Callie Hutton

by The Elusive Wife

  “Indeed, have you, Lady Olivia?” He regarded her with a heart-stopping smile. “I hope you are feeling better today.”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped.

  His smile faltered, but recovering quickly, he said, “I was on my way to an appointment when I spotted you through the window and just had to stop and give you my regards.”

  “It’s always a pleasure.” Elizabeth gave him a tight smile.

  Olivia nodded.

  “Ladies.” Jason bowed once more and took his leave.

  Olivia released a huge breath. “Elizabeth, what am I going to do about this? I spent the better part of the night tossing and turning. I imagined all sorts of reactions from him when we met, but I never expected it to be complete ignorance.”

  Elizabeth considered her for a moment. “I really don’t know what to say. My suggestion is to let things go the way they are and see what happens. One day Lord Coventry is going to have to come to terms with the fact that he’s left a wife who he thinks is tucked away in the country.”

  Olivia sighed and gazed out the window at women of the ton who passed by, elegantly dressed, bejeweled, powdered, and followed by maids struggling with packages. They belonged to this world of London society.

  Where in the world do I belong?

  …

  What was I thinking, going into Gunter’s to speak with Lady Olivia? Jason chided himself as he stalked away from James Gunter’s Tea Shop. The problem was he hadn’t been thinking. Not with his brain, anyway. His attraction to the lady was far too dangerous. Even though he’d snapped at Drake when he’d reminded him of his marital status, his friend was right and Jason should stay far away from her. At least until he came to terms with what to do with the wife stashed at Coventry Manor.

  The wife he’d never bedded.

  The thought of an annulment had reared its head more than a few times since the disastrous morning of his wedding. Now that he’d calmed down, perhaps he should make a trip to Coventry Manor and discover how Lady Coventry felt about calling an end to this farce of a marriage.

  Surely she would be amenable to the idea. Aside from their marriage vows, they hadn’t spoken two words to each other, and by now she must realize she’d married a cad. Since no one knew of the arrangement, they could seek a quiet annulment. He would do the gentlemanly thing and set her up with whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted, and they would be free. He would be free—to explore his attraction to the delectable Lady Olivia.

  He cursed at the irony. After years of his father’s threats, he had finally found the woman he could imagine as his countess. Too late, thanks to the old earl’s machinations.

  “I want you to investigate something for me.” Jason leaned back in the large leather chair behind his desk as he regarded young Mr. Meyer. Even though the solicitor was well into his fifties, Milton Meyer would forever be known as the ‘young’ Mr. Meyer, in deference to his father. David Meyer, founder of the business, passed on to his eternal reward some thirty years before.

  “How may I be of service?” the man replied.

  “I would like to know the possibility of securing a quiet annulment from Lady Coventry.”

  The solicitor regarded him in frowning silence. “My lord, I would have to go over your late father’s will. I don’t remember offhand if there were any contingencies placed on the marriage. The Earl made that particular provision somewhat hastily—against my advice—I might add.” He cleared his throat briefly. “However, since parliament passed the Hardwicke Act, it is very difficult to obtain an annulment. The usual excuse of non-consummation is only acceptable if,” he lowered his voice, “the gentleman is unable to perform his husbandly duties.”

  Jason opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “That will never do.”

  The solicitor nodded. “I had no reason to believe it would, my lord.” He removed his spectacles, and rubbed them in concentration. “However, there is a clause that states if you were not in your right mind when you spoke your vows, that condition could be grounds for an annulment.”

  “Are you saying if I contend I am crazy, I may be granted an annulment?” Jason said without a trace of humor.

  “No, my lord,” Mr. Meyer hurriedly added. “But since your lordship was not, shall we say, completely sober when the vows were spoken, that may leave grounds to pursue an annulment. But, in any event, I would need to research if there were any conditions placed on the marriage to Lady Coventry via the terms of the will.”

  Jason sat for a while, staring in the distance, then closed his eyes to press his fingers against them. “See what you can find out and keep me posted.”

  As Jason moved to dismiss the man, the solicitor continued. “One more thing, my lord. I have been in contact with Coventry Manor since your ah—wedding—and I find it most peculiar Lady Coventry has requested no funds in all the time she has been there.”

  Jason frowned and sat back down. “No funds?”

  “None, my lord.” He shook his head.

  A woman who had no need for funds? Who was this strange woman his father had foisted on him? “Had she funds of her own transferred from Italy?”

  “Not that I was aware of. Although, it is indeed quite possible she retained her own solicitors to do so on her behalf. I find it odd she has requested nothing. Most unusual for a young bride.” He stared at Jason, his spectacles making his eyes large and disturbing.

  “Yes, a mystery. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

  The solicitor nodded his understanding, and left. What the devil was going on with the woman ensconced at Coventry? It remained hard to think of her as his wife.

  Several hours later Jason entered White’s and spotted Drake, whom he had been searching for most of the evening. The Marquess had comfortably established himself in a substantial chair, his long legs stretched in front of him, his ankles crossed. He swirled amber liquid in a cut crystal snifter and smiled lazily at his friend.

  “I wondered where you had got off to.” Jason sat across from him and signaled the footman to bring him a drink.

  “Been here only an hour or so. Spent the best part of the night dodging the marriage-minded mamas at the Onslow ball.”

  “Can’t say I’m sorry I missed it.” Jason leaned back and accepted a glass from the footman. He stared into the fireplace, thinking about his earlier conversation with the solicitor.

  Drake studied his friend’s demeanor. “Indeed, since you are already leg-shackled.” When Jason didn’t respond to his jest, he said, “What are you looking so somber about?”

  Jason studied the liquid in his snifter for a minute before answering. “Sent for my solicitor today.”

  “And?”

  Jason quaffed a healthy swallow and looked at Drake. “I asked him to investigate the possibility of an annulment.”

  Drake didn’t answer, but continued to stare at him, which allowed him time to gather his thoughts.

  Jason put the glass down, and closing his eyes, rotated his neck. “I don’t know what to do. I feel immense guilt toward the woman, but then anger pushes away the guilt, because I shouldn’t even be in this blasted position.”

  “Neither should she. Why don’t you give the chit a chance? Go to Coventry, talk to her. It may turn out you like her. You may even suit.”

  Jason ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “You’ve hit on the problem. I don’t feel as though she will be too eager to give me a chance. If she doesn’t hate me by now, there’s something the matter with her.” He sighed. “And then there’s the lovely Lady Olivia forever taunting me in the back of my mind.”

  “Forget her, old man. She’s an innocent, and no one you should be dabbling with.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Jason snapped. “I’ve been trying to avoid her. I assume she was at Onslow’s tonight?”

  “Yes.” Drake’s eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. “Surrounded by young bucks, all jockeying for a position. The lady had a partn
er for every dance.”

  Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. The thought of Lady Olivia in the arms of another man made him want to punch something. He shook his head in wonder, never having had that reaction over a woman before.

  Better get hold of yourself. You’ve a wife to contend with first.

  “And a strange thing.” Jason sat forward. “My solicitor tells me Lady Coventry has not requested any funds the entire time she’s been in residence.”

  Drake’s left eyebrow rose a fraction. “She’s not asked for anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps you should not be so quick to rid yourself of a wife who requires so little.” He grinned.

  “I’m serious. Something doesn’t seem right.”

  “Agreed. You should see the stack of bills arriving daily at m’sire’s desk for m’sisters’ gowns, shoes and whatnots.”

  Jason smiled at the vision of His Grace buried under a sea of demands for payment from the tradesmen in town.

  “Can I suggest something?” Drake rose.

  Jason looked up at him. “What’s that?”

  “Take a trip to Coventry. Talk to the woman. If it’s an annulment you desire, maybe she’ll be just as anxious to be rid of an absent husband as you are to be rid of an unwanted wife.”

  Jason rubbed the nape of his neck. “It appears that’s the only thing I can do. It’s also time for me to meet with my estate manager anyway.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rain fell in torrents as the crested carriage rose to the top of the hill, then traveled the distance to the front entrance of Coventry Manor. Malcolm opened the door before Jason had alighted from his carriage.

  He hurried down the stairs, holding an umbrella. “Good day, my lord.”

  Jason nodded. “It’s good to be home.” They hurried, huddled under the umbrella to the foyer. Jason handed his gloves and hat to the butler, who then helped him with his wet coat.

  “Please inform Lady Coventry I’ve arrived and I await her in the library.” He spoke over his shoulder as he started down the hall.

  Jason stopped at Malcolm’s quickly drawn breath. “I’m sorry, my lord, but Lady Coventry is not at home.”

  “Not at home?” Jason turned back, his eyebrows rising. Where could she be, in this terrible weather, and not knowing anyone? He wanted to get this conversation over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. “When is she expected?”

  Confusion marked the man’s face. “My lord, I’m not sure. That is, I mean. . .”

  Jason had never seen this long standing member of Coventry’s staff quite so flustered.

  “What is it, man?” he retorted impatiently.

  “Well, my lord, Lady Coventry has not been in residence for quite some time.”

  Jason’s jaw dropped, his brows furrowed in confusion. “When did she leave? Where did she go?”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but I’m not quite sure where her ladyship went.”

  “Not sure where she went? You mean she just sailed out of the house one day, never to return, and you hadn’t thought to notify me?” His eyes widened.

  Malcolm drew himself up, obviously irritated at being questioned about the performance of his duties. “My lord, Lady Coventry had Evelyn, the upstairs maid, pack her belongings and then left for London. However, she did not state directly to me where in London she intended to go, and I assumed, wrongly it seems, that she planned to travel to your townhouse.”

  “She did not come to Coventry House, unless we passed on the road. When did her ladyship leave?”

  “More than three weeks ago, my lord.” The butler’s face had paled.

  Jason sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Send me the man who drove her to London. I’ll be in the library.”

  Getting something very strong to drink.

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Where the bloody hell is my wife? Why isn’t she here where I left her?

  As he poured himself a brandy, he realized he would have to stop thinking of her in that way if he planned on requesting an annulment.

  He sipped the brandy and walked to the large window, watching the rain create rivulets in the newly dug garden. He moved to his desk, then collapsed into the chair behind it and stared into space. What a muddle this thing had become.

  “My lord?” Malcolm approached Jason’s desk in his usual quiet manner.

  “Where’s the driver?” He clasped his hands and tapped his mouth with his index fingers.

  “It seems the driver who took her ladyship to London has recently been dismissed, my lord.” Malcolm regarded him uneasily.

  “Was he dismissed, by chance, for losing Lady Coventry?” Jason raised one mocking eyebrow.

  The well-trained butler ignored the sarcasm. “No. He was dismissed by Mrs. Watkins for thievery.”

  “Wonderful.” Jason made a shooing motion with his hand. “That will be all, Malcolm. Please have Cook fix something for me, and serve it in here. I need to go over some reports.”

  The butler bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  What was he supposed to do now? His wife—no, don’t think of her that way—was somewhere in London. He would have to search her out, but at this point he didn’t know where she resided, or with whom. Then he choked on the last bit of brandy when he realized he did not even remember what she looked like.

  Bloody hell!

  That little fact should make the search interesting.

  He leaned back and studied the raindrops sliding down the windowpane as he drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair. She obviously did not move about in society as Lady Coventry, or he would have heard about it.

  Drat, this was supposed to be a simple matter!

  Jason felt uncomfortable as he walked into the countess’s bed chamber, where he assumed she had slept while in residence. If she’d already been gone for some time, then she hadn’t been here very long at all, only a couple of weeks.

  The smell of lavender still hung in the air. He didn’t remember that scent from his wedding, but then his memory of the event was nil. Jason opened drawers and closets, finding nothing, almost as if the whole encounter had been a dream. He didn’t remember her and nothing of hers remained here. Except the scent of lavender.

  He gazed around the room trying desperately to remember something that might help find her. He grimaced. Asking the staff what she looked like was beyond the pale, even for him. After taking one more glance at the deserted room, he left.

  Breakfast the next morning filled him with guilt. Lady Coventry had suffered this silence and neglect every day after he left her until she departed. What did she think about? Did she hate him, or not care one way or the other? Did he hurt her, or was she only too happy to have the title and money, and no husband to foist his attentions on her? Although, according to his solicitors, she hadn’t requested anything. Which led him to believe she must be residing in London with someone of means.

  Jason’s concentration on the column of numbers he attempted to reconcile was broken by a light tap on the library door. Mrs. Watkins entered at his bid. Jason replaced his pen in the holder, and greeted the housekeeper.

  “My lord, will you be wanting dinner at the usual time, or should I send a tray in here when you’re ready?”

  “A tray in here will be fine, Mrs. Watkins. Shall we say around six o’clock?”

  “As you wish, my lord.” She turned to go, and then Jason called her back.

  “Mrs. Watkins, ah, how did Lady Coventry get on while she was here?”

  “Oh, my lord, we are all so fond of her ladyship.” The older woman’s eyes glowed. “Truly a ray of sunshine. The tenants loved her as well.”

  “The tenants?” His eyebrows rose inquiringly.

  “Yes, my lord. She fancied going to the tenants and bringing some of Cook’s breads and sweets for the little ones. They all loved her.” She put her hands to her chest and sighed. “And the music! Oh
, could she make music!”

  “Music?” He was beginning to sound like a goddamn parrot.

  “Her ladyship is a wonderful pianist, my lord. When she played, we would all stop to listen. It brought me to tears most times.” The woman wiped her eyes.

  “But the pianoforte hasn’t been tuned in years.” He frowned.

  “Oh, my lord, she tuned it herself. And she played like an angel.”

  Feeling decidedly uncomfortable with this turn of events, he nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Watkins. That will be all.”

  She inclined her head and left the room.

  So her ladyship had captivated the tenants and staff? And everyone just loved her? Then why the deuce didn’t she stay put so he could get to know this paragon? No, she went traipsing off to London, staying heaven knows where, and now he had to chase her down like a dog on the hunt.

  Three days later Jason felt confident enough in his dealings with his estate manager and the books they had gone over together to make the trip back to London. Even though he had given his staff enough leeway to discuss the missing Lady Coventry, the only thing he got for his trouble was the image of a beautiful, quiet, sensitive woman who caught the affection of everyone she encountered. And, of course, the delightful music no one failed to mention. Then he snorted, remembering the young buck who had called yesterday.

  Jason had been busy at his desk when Malcolm entered the library.

  “My lord, there is someone here asking after her ladyship.”

  Jason looked up sharply and rolled the pen in his hand between two fingers. “Indeed. Who is the caller?”

  Malcolm presented him with a calling card.

  Sir Garrett Brooke, Coventry, England

  Jason raised his eyebrows. “By all means, send Sir Brooke in.”

  A tall, lanky gentleman, with dark blond hair and a skin color darker than most Englishmen, arrived within a minute. His confident walk belied any intimidation he might have had at presenting himself to the Earl.

  “My lord.” He inclined his head.

  “Please, have a seat.” Once his visitor settled himself, Jason continued, “I understand you asked after Lady Coventry?”