"There were tear-stains on the paper," Margaret said.
He inhaled. "Where did she send this letter from?"
"Twas on her pillow," Aldora said. "Her maid had gone home for several days while her mother gave birth. I went to speak to Nicola." Aldora reached into the sleeve of her dress and pulled out a piece of paper. "I cried when I read her words. Drew, how could you be so cruel? How many times have I warned you about your attitude? Why didn't you listen?"
He took the note from her. "I behaved like an ass but until I know where she has gone, I can't change the situation." He read the letter and felt as though a horse had kicked his chest. "I will find her."
"Where?" Elizabeth asked. "Will you go to India?"
"If I must."
"She is alone, but for Sarad," Margaret said.
"Sarad?"
Aldora put her arm around her granddaughter's waist. "He's gone as well and he didn't tell his mother he was leaving. My boy, you have much to answer for."
"She took Prabha's saris," Margaret said. "My amah is most worried."
"Do you think I'm not?" Drew asked.
"How nice." The irony in Elizabeth's voice slashed him. "'Tis about time you cared for someone other than yourself. How could you cause her to believe you would deny being the father of her child?"
"La Drew, I'm afraid that man who tried to steal her will carry her away." Tears ran down Aldora's cheeks. "I can't bear another loss. My daughters are gone and now my granddaughter is lost to me."
Margaret hugged her grandmother. Elizabeth kissed the Dowager's cheek.
"I'll find her," he said. "She couldn’t have gone far for she had no money."
"A lot you know," Margaret said. "She has the gemstones she brought from India."
"The ones Cousin Fergus wants," Elizabeth added.
Drew groaned. Nicola had surely gone to London. Where else would she find a ready market for the gems and where else could she find a ship leaving for India. "I'll find her. I'll leave at once."
Aldora put her hand on his arm. "What good will it do if you rush off exhausted and hungry? Have dinner and then rest for a few hours."
Though his urgency to leave was strong, he knew she was right. He wasn't sure his leg would bear up under another long ride. "You're right."
He offered Aldora his arm. "Let's go in to dinner." He glared at Margaret. "The pig isn't a guest I care to have at my table."
"I know. Lucinda stays with the footman during meal times." She picked up the pig and carried her to the door. "I won't blame Nica if she refuses to speak to you."
"I'm in agreement with you." He led the way to the dining room and pulled out a chair for the Dowager. "I've made a muddle out of our lives."
Elizabeth took her seat. "Do you love her?"
Drew lifted a spoon of soup. "That is between Nicola and myself. I promise I'll do everything possible to bring her back to Denmere."
"My boy, I believe I'll set Bertha and Prabha packing for the girls and myself. We must marshal out forces. I wouldn't want to see you make a cake of yourself."
Drew rolled his eyes. "The townhouse is understaffed and sparsely furnished. You wouldn't be comfortable there."
Elisabeth clapped her hands. "We must go. There's nothing I like better than bringing a house alive."
"She's right," the Dowager said.
Drew groaned. He couldn't keep them here. Once Aldora had made a decision, she moved ahead like a boulder pushed from the peak of a mountain.
"Once Nicola is found, I'm sure there will be many invitations," Aldora said. "Oh, we will have a lovely time."
Drew stared at his plate. If he had his way, he and Nicola would retire to their chamber and remain there until she believed in his love.
* * * *
Drew left at dawn, and by mid-morning Aldora had her troops gathered in the Great Hall. The footmen loaded trunks on the carriage where Bertha, Prabha, Peggy and Bevel were to ride. Margaret clutched her pig and danced from foot to foot.
Elizabeth examined her bonnet in a mirror. "Why must she bring the pig? People will stare and think we harbor a ninny."
"Just because you are vain and proud doesn't mean I must be like you," Margaret said. "Lucinda is most well behaved." She grinned. "Besides, her presence irritates the Earl and I think he deserves to be uncomfortable."
"Come girls," Aldora called. "I've sent one of the grooms ahead to secure rooms at an inn for the night." She herded the girls ahead of her and saw them into the carriage. Then she turned to Greene. "If you hear anything from Nicola or Sarad, send a message to the townhouse."
When the coach rolled forward, Aldora smiled at her granddaughters. "I'm sure Drew doesn't expect us to come so soon, but with frequent changes of horses, we'll be in London by Saturday. Now, let us plan our strategy to bring the pair together."
"Lock them in their rooms," said Margaret. "Bind them hand and foot."
Elizabeth shook her head. "A foolish idea. Maybe we should let them solve their own difficulties."
"I won't allow them to act like cabbage heads another minute. He isn't to be trusted. I feel he'll make a stew of something as simple as an apology for his boorish behavior."
Elizabeth sighed. "Do you think he loves her?"
"How could he not?" Aldora reached for Elizabeth's hand. "While we're in London, we must hire a dancing master and a music teacher. I believe the three of us will remain in town until summer and banish the lovers to Denmere. Oh la, 'tis a brilliant idea."
* * * *
On Friday, the invitation to Countess Truesdale's ball arrived. Sarad dropped the envelope in Nicola's lap. She pulled out the enclosed note and chuckled. "It seems you have made a conquest. She will be distraught if you don't attend her ball. And of course, you must bring your wife." She tapped the card against her hand. "I'd like to go."
"Attending would be a foolish idea and would draw too much attention to our presence in London," Sarad said. "What if Crawford learns you are here? And someone might discover we are not what we seem."
Nicola frowned. "What would be the harm? By Monday, I'll be gone from London."
"I can't forbid you." He shook his head. "Sometimes you are as heedless as Margaret."
"You're right." Nicola sighed. Just once, she would like to attend one of the glittering balls Cynthia Rasher had boasted about. According to Cynthia, the Baron's ball and the wedding celebration had been small gatherings compared to the crush of a London ball. Just once, she thought. Instead of discarding the invitation, she placed the envelope on the table.
Sarad picked up the book of maps. "Are you sure you want to purchase the cottage in Cornwall?"
She nodded. "According to the description, the village is small. The cottage is sound and near the ocean. 'Tis not the bay or the Ganges but it will remind me of India."
"Then I will go to the land agent and make the payment." He disappeared into his room. A short time later, he emerged wearing dark gray trousers and a navy blue jacket.
Once Sarad left, Nicola felt restless. She had read the two books she'd brought from the library at Denmere. Her Sanskrit texts were on the table beside her bed, but she had no desire to read tales of heros and heroines. Nor did she want to read the Kama Sutra.
For a time, she paced from the sitting room to the bedroom. Without some diversion, she would go mad. Questions about her decision plagued her. Was it right to deprive Drew of his child? Not that he would ever admit to being the father. Was it right to abandon her sisters and grandmother? If she sent for them, Drew would find her. Could she live for years in the company of strangers and without the love of the man who held her heart?
She slumped on the bed and fought the nausea that still made her mornings miserable. She curled on her side. How long would Sarad be gone?
After a short nap, she walked to the wardrobe. The drab unfashionable dresses she'd brought from India hung behind the colorful saris. She took out a black bombazine. Dare she put on the dress and venture from the hotel to visi
t a bookseller's? The more she considered the idea, the better it seemed. Yes, she would go.
She removed the sari and changed into the black dress. From a hatbox, she took a black bonnet with a heavy veil she'd chosen to complete her disguise as a widow. Taking care not to be observed by the other guests or hotel employees, she slipped down the stairs and across the lobby. The doorman hailed a hackney and she gave the driver the address of the bookstore on Bond Street she'd visited during the time she and her sisters had stayed with Mr. Grey.
As she leaned back in the seat, she caught a glimpse of a man who resembled her father's cousin. Ridiculous, she thought. She couldn't imagine Cousin Fergus leaving the vicinity of Denmere until he had the gems.
A short time later, she entered the bookstore. Rows and rows of books, the smell of leather bindings overwhelmed her. Slowly, she moved among the shelves, touching the tooled leather covering a book, lifting a volume and scanning the pages. Finally, she selected a book of poems by Shakespeare, one by Blake and a novel. After paying for her purchases, she stepped outside and looked for a passing hackney.
A hand grasped her arm and nearly caused her to drop the package of books. "Tis ye. Ain't ye a bit feckless?"
Nicola swallowed. The voice belonged to Cousin Fergus. She turned and looked at him. His dark eyes glittered like a cobra's and she was nearly trapped by their hypnotic gleam.
"You are mistaken. I don't know you."
His laughter raised gooseflesh. "Ye can't fool me, Lassie. Thought ye'd seen the last of yer dear cousin, did ye?"
She tried to pull free. "Let me go."
"Give me the Eye and the monies ye got from selling the other gems. Seems I don't have the persuasive powers of yer pa. Couldn't talk his thieves ta sell ta me. I needs what ye stole ta make good on some promises."
"I do not know who you are and what you're talking about." She fought to keep fear from her voice.
"Foolish chit. Never thought yer husband would let ye prance around London town."
"I will scream if you don't let me go."
"No one be believing ye when I tell 'em grief has made ye crazy." He pulled her toward a closed coach.
Nicola swung her reticule and smashed it against his face. He jerked back. She pulled free and plunged past a group of people and around a corner."
"Demme, I will have ye."
Nicola continued her flight. She dared not look back to see how close he was. Why had she forgotten to order the hackney to wait?
She collided with a solid barrier. Arms enclosed her in an embrace. For several seconds, fear caused her heart to pound against her chest and thunder in her ears.
"What's wrong?"
"Not Cousin Fergus, but a familiar voice. She looked up. The Duke of Cairnton held her against his chest.
She looked away and prayed he hadn't recognized her. Perhaps her drab clothes and the heavy veil would blur her identity. He was Drew's friend and being discovered by him was nearly as bad as being recaptured by Cousin Fergus. The Duke would inform her husband.
"Can I help you?"
She heard no recognition in his voice and relaxed. "My reticule...a man...tried to steal." Would he believe the words that popped out or her mouth like peas from a pod?
"Do you see him?"
She turned and looked in all directions. "He's gone." She slumped against the Duke. Would her legs support her until she reached the hotel?
"May I take you somewhere?"
She shook her head. "I won't trouble you further, sir. You've been a savior. Just let me find a hackney."
He stepped from the curb and hailed a passing coach. "I'm glad I could be of service."
"Thank you, your...sir." Nicola lifted her veil and gave the driver her direction. Then she collapsed against the cushions. Shivers shook her body. She clutched the books. Twice she had barely escaped recognition. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Since she had fooled Drew's friend, she and Sarad could safely attend Countess Truesdale's ball. As soon as she reached the hotel, she would send their acceptance.
* * * *
Tristan stared at the hackney. What the blazes was she doing in London? He couldn't have mistaken those blue eyes as belonging to anyone other than Nicola Barlow, Countess of Denmere. What a coil. Drew had left London and headed for the manor house to repair his fractured marriage, but his wife was in London. For a moment, Tristan considered hauling her from the carriage and depositing her in Drew's townhouse. He shook his head. He had no desire to stand guard over anyone's runaway wife.
He signaled to the young lad he'd hired to hold his horse and climbed onto the high perch phaeton. The tiger scrambled to his position on the rear of the carriage. Tristan pulled into the street and allowed several carriages to form a line between his and the one bearing his friend's bride. He followed until the vehicle halted in front of the Pulteny Hotel. After handing the reins to the tiger, he walked to the hotel. In the lobby, he inquired after the Countess of Denmere.
The clerk frowned. "There is no countess of anywhere in residence, sir."
Tristan turned to leave and halted. Striding across the lobby was the young man from India who acted as Drew's secretary. Tristan smiled. He'd been right. Nicola Barlow was here, but under what name? He returned to the desk. "Who is the foreign gentleman who just came in?"
"The only foreign gentleman we have here is the Maharajah of Calcutta and his wife."
Aha, Tristan thought. He strode to the door and hurried to his phaeton. When he reached Drew's townhouse, he left a message requesting his friend to call on him as soon as he reached town.
That evening, he joined several acquaintances at White's for dinner. A portly young man stopped at the table. "Cairnton, good to see you."
"And you, Truesdale. How is your charming wife?"
"In the boughs for she has stolen a march on all of London. The Maharajah of Calcutta has accepted an invitation to our ball. Will we see you?"
Tristan smiled. "I wouldn't dream of being absent. I'm expecting Denmere to arrive sometime tomorrow."
"Then bring him along. My wife will be delighted."
* * * *
On Saturday at mid-morning, Drew entered the townhouse. The butler took his coat. "My lord, we didn't expect you to return so soon. The Duke of Cairnton wishes you to call on him immediately."
"Later," Drew said. "Inform the housekeeper that the Dowager Countess and my wards will arrive tomorrow or the next day. Rooms will need to be prepared."
"I will see to it at once," Percy said. "I will also notify Cook about the influx of guests. Are you off to the Duke's?"
"First a bath. Have a footman lay out a change of clothes for me."
Instead of heading directly to Tristan's townhouse, Drew visited some of the London jewelers. In shop after shop, he heard the same words. "I'm sorry, my lord. No English lady has been here with gems to sell."
By late afternoon, Drew felt discouraged. Would he find Nicola before Crawford did? Drew entered yet another shop. The response was the same. He turned to leave.
"Excuse me, my lord, I have some choice emeralds. From India, they are. It is strange, but they are a near match for some I purchased from a young English woman some months ago."
Drew halted. "Who did you buy them from?"
"The Maharajah of Calcutta."
Could it be, Drew wondered. Sarad had come to London with Nicola. Had he posed as a maharajah? "Do you happen to have his direction?"
The jeweler shook his head. "I never thought to ask. Would you like to look at the emeralds?"
"Not today."
Drew mounted his horse and rode to Tristan's. His friend stepped out of the house dressed for riding. "Drew, aren't you dizzy from all the galloping about? How are things at the estate?"
"Nicola has taken some foolish notion and has come to town to sell some gems. I've been visiting the jewelers with little success."
"About your wife."
"I've no wish to discuss the matter. Where are you off to?"
Tristan tapped his crop on the railing of the steps leading to the house. "How would you like to join me at the Truesdale's ball this evening?"
Drew groaned. "I've other matters to consider."
"I half promised you would be there."
"She is a ninnyhammer and he's a nodcock. I've no time for frivolity. Nicola's in danger. Crawford has been seen in London and unfortunately, he has gone to ground."
"Humor me. I promise a most enlightening evening. Seems the Countess has snared a pair of enigmatic guests."
Drew shook his head. "I must locate the Maharajah of Calcutta."
Tristan grinned. "How very interesting. Seems he and his sweet wife plan to attend the very ball I've asked you to attend. I hear the Countess is beside herself."
Drew nodded. "I believe I'll join you. What time should I expect you?"
"Tenish. Wouldn't want to be among the first to arrive, would we?"
Drew inhaled. He would like to be standing on the steps of the Truesdale house when his bride arrived. "Of course not. I'll see you then." He waved as Tristan rode away. Drew smiled. When he had his wife in his arms, first he planned to convince her of his love. Then he would scold her until she promised she would never leave him again.
Chapter 20
Nicola stepped from her bed chamber into the sitting room of the hotel suite. Silver embroidery on the midnight blue sari she wore glittered in the candlelight. In her hand, she carried a sapphire caged by six strands of silver that dangled from a silver chain. Though the setting was crude, the gem was magnificent and as large as her eye. She had found the strangely set stone in the secret compartment of the box her father had given her.
Sarad sat on the sofa. His red coat covered with designs created from thin strings of gold outshone her sari. "I am still believing this ball is the wrong action." His eyes widened. "Where did you find that?"
"The sapphire?"
He reached for the jewel and studied it intently. "I have heard tales about the Third Eye of Siva missing for more years than you and I have lived combined. How do you have it?"
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