Nothing was better than an unexpected breakthrough. The first tantalizing crack in an enemy's skillfully crafted plan always held a certain alluring promise. Once he saw the thin outline, Will would set to work weakening the facade of Hattie’s story. Soon the whole structure she had built would come crashing down around her.
Then he would know the truth.
He sat back in the chair, shocked at the passion which had roared to life within him. The realization that this had little to do with running Hattie to ground; and nearly everything to do with her having rejected him, hit Will hard.
Bloody hell.
The emotions causing turmoil in his mind were nothing like what he had felt when on the hunt for French agents and English traitors. Even the taste in his mouth was not the same.
Hattie was not his prey.
“What I don’t understand is what she was doing at Evensong. If Edgar is indeed her brother why didn’t she speak to him? I watched her. She was beset with indecision. Time and time again she started to walk toward them, and each time she stopped herself and retreated.”
Rosemary walked over to where Will sat and took a seat next to him. She took hold of his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“This behavior is most unlike you Will. You saved this girl and saw her safely returned to England. Why then are you still so concerned about who she is?” she asked.
As a former spy, Lady Shale was as perceptive as Will was in reading the undercurrent in a conversation.
He looked at her, sensing that once the questions began, they would not stop until he had told them everything. He was tired of keeping everything in his life to himself.
“Because on the boat back to England, Hattie and I shared a cabin. Suffice to say events occurred during that time which demand a settlement of marriage.”
Rosemary let out a low whistle. Will took her meaning as one of disapproval.
“I didn’t ruin her. Her blackguard of a fiancé had already seen to that. And no, I didn’t set out to seduce her either. In fact, she was the one who made the offer. I entered into the arrangement with every intention of marrying Hattie as soon as we got to London. I still do,” he replied.
The room fell silent, apart from the gurgling of the baby.
Rosemary leaned over and playfully ruffled Will’s hair.
“You my dearest Will are in love. It is written as plain as day on your face. We couldn’t be happier. You deserve it.”
Bat sagely nodded. When he and Rosemary were first married, he had fought tooth and nail not to fall in love with his wife. Will had been the one to convince him that he was fighting a losing battle. The earl had been madly in love with his wife ever since.
Will looked at his friends and softly chuckled. There was nothing else he could do.
Hattie had been so close to finally reaching out to Edgar, but at the last minute her courage had failed. Her long walk from Newport Street all the way to Ludgate Hill and back had resulted in nothing except sore feet and a long walk home in the early evening rain.
It had been the first time in nearly two years since she had been inside the cathedral. Once it had been her father's favourite place for Sunday worship, now he viewed it as an ostentatious display of ill-gotten wealth.
“They should tear all the fine buildings down and use the stone to build new homes for the poor.” Hattie could count on her father making that particular remark every time they left the house and ventured near the finer homes close to Hyde Park.
Aldred Wright had argued the redistribution of wealth as one of the fundamental duties of the new church. Edgar however had not shared such radical views.
Week after week the arguments between her father and her brother had raged. Edgar had not taken up the new-found faith of his parents, preferring the traditional church. What had started out as a mere difference of opinion eventually became a gulf of differing beliefs.
Eventually Edgar and Miranda stopped making regular visits to the house, coming only on high days and some holidays. After the final exchange of harsh words, they stopped visiting altogether.
Reaching home in Newport Street, Hattie slumped despondently onto the wooden bench in the lower kitchen. She was grateful when Mr. Little did not bother to ask how things had gone on her trip to St. Paul’s.
After a small supper of a cold pork pie, Hattie climbed the stairs and went to bed. She was out of ideas as to how she could resolve her current predicament.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Catching up with family members and sorting out affairs of business, put the issue of Hattie to the back of Will’s agenda for several days. At night she came to him in his dreams. Memories of making love to her onboard the ship mixed with anger and pain created a strange cocktail of images which had him waking in the dead of night drenched in sweat and heavily aroused.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that when he did finally run her to ground, she would be even more surprised. At this moment, Hattie was living the false reality that she had managed to escape from Will.
“Looking forward to tonight?”
His father gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. They were standing in the foyer of their home in Dover Street awaiting the arrival of the bishop, his wife Mary and two of their adult children.
“Yes, it was good to catch up with Uncle Hugh the other night after Evensong, I am looking forward to spending an evening with the rest of the family,” he replied.
Gatherings within the Duke of Strathmore’s extended family were always light hearted and at time raucous affairs. New Year’s Eve Hogmanay celebrations at Strathmore Castle in Scotland, were a time of late nights and never- ending snowball fights.
When the Radleys arrived, the Saunders were waiting to greet them.
“William! About time you got your foolish self back home to England.”
His cousin James had never been one for mincing his words. The only boy in a family with two girls, he had forever been loud and boisterous. Always up for a laugh, but possessed with a generous soul. James Radley would give you his last penny if you asked for it, and his last pound if you did not.
Sitting down to dinner with his extended family members reminded Will of how much he had missed them all. Knowing that the war was over; and Europe was once again at peace was comfort for those long years away.
The only family member not appearing to be having a wonderful time was Eve. She sat quietly at the table, barely saying a word. Will worried for her. In falling in love with Frederick Rosemount, she appeared to have given her heart to a young man unable to see the true worth of her.
“Cheer up Eve,” he said.
She gave him a small smile, one he suspected had taken a lot to muster. An odd realization dawned on him. He and his sister were both somewhat crossed in love. Freddie valued his gaming and hell raising friends above Eve, while Hattie could not see her way to find a good enough reason to marry Will.
A footman stopped at Will’s chair and handed him a card. Will excused himself from the table, as Lord Shale entered the dining room.
“Sorry to disturb. An urgent matter which I need to discuss with Will has arisen.”
Adelaide Saunders greeted her nephew.
“Bartholomew, how lovely to see you. Do come and join us. It’s just a family gathering.”
He shook his head.
“Sorry Aunt Adelaide, I have just dashed out into the night to give Will some news. Rosemary and our son are waiting for me at home,” he replied.
Will handed him a glass of wine and pointed toward the doorway of an adjoining room. He followed Bat into the room, closing the door behind them.
Bat opened his coat and withdrew a large leather satchel. With a flourish he handed it to an intrigued Will. A school boy grin was spread across his lips.
“My man of business has been busy following up on Felix Wright. While the trail ran cold with Felix now being based in America, he did manage to turn up something else. Or, should I say someone else. One Aldr
ed Wright, who until he recently set sail for Africa with his wife and daughter, lived at number forty- three Newport Street.”
Will frowned; an address wasn’t much to get excited about. Bat pointed to the satchel.
“Number forty-three Newport Street is up for lease.”
Will opened the satchel and took out a document, marked LEASE. His heart began to beat loudly in his chest. Adrenaline his old and trusted friend coursed through his veins.
“They were asking a little over market price for the lease, but it's a good house. I assumed you would want it, so I instructed my man to tell the agent you would take it. The agent will see you tomorrow at ten to make final arrangements. The house is yours until the Wright family returns,” said Bat. He clapped his hands in boyish delight.
For Will this was a most unexpected, but welcome development. Moving into the house would effectively kill two birds with one stone.
He had held reservations about moving permanently back into his parent's house since his visit home earlier that summer. He loved his family and it was wonderful to be able to see them again, but the years had passed, and he was no longer a carefree young man. The house in Newport Street was close enough for him to see his parents and siblings on a regular basis, without having to live under the same roof as them.
He now desired privacy and his own home in which to reestablish his life. To create his own family.
Moving into Newport Street would also help move matters forward with Hattie. There was a good chance she was hiding out from society and her family within her parent’s vacant house. If he took over the lease, she would be forced to come out of hiding and face him.
He was not looking forward to the difficult conversations which he knew lay ahead with her, but if they were at least able to speak to each other, face to face, they could make a start.
“Bat, you are a genius. Tell your man I owe him a tip for the work he has done.”
He slapped his cousin firmly on the back. Then shook his hand for good measure.
The earl smiled. “I have already paid him a bonus of five pounds on your behalf. You can pay me next time we are at the card tables.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After his conversation with Bat, Will found it impossible to stay at the dinner party. He was itching to read the lease contract and see the house. After managing to make polite conversation for the next hour, he finally made his apologies and headed out into the night.
Out the front of the house he hailed a hack. It did not take long for him to reach Newport Street.
As the carriage drew to a halt outside number forty- three, he looked up and checked the windows. There was no light to be seen in the upper windows of the house. If Hattie was indeed hiding out in her parent’s house she was being cautious and making sure not to draw attention to the house.
He paid the driver and got out. He waited in the light evening rain until the hack had disappeared around the corner, before walking up to the high stone wall which hid most of the house from the street. In the middle of the stone wall was an iron gate. He tested it and found to his annoyance that it was not locked. He would be making new arrangements regarding security as soon as he moved in.
At the gate, he peered inside the front garden. Black painted door. Small, badly tended flower pots on either side of the front door. One pot broken.
With calculated stealth he unlatched the gate. He left it opened just enough to allow him a hasty departure if one was required. Who was to say that the Wright family did not have a large and unfriendly dog that they had left behind? Will was taking no chances.
The house would be his as of tomorrow, but he wanted to gain an understanding of where Hattie was in the house before he moved in. After tonight, she would be on her guard. Tonight, she still thought she had gotten the better of him.
He was looking forward to finally seeing her face when she discovered that he was the new tenant of her family home.
“You have some explaining to do young lady,” he muttered.
It was frustrating to know that the woman he was so intent on throttling was the very same woman who inhabited his nightly dreams. Heated, lust filled dreams.
Breaking into other people's gardens and snooping about was beneath a gentleman of his birth. If anyone stopped and asked what he was up to, he had a convincing drunk act at the ready. Getting arrested or shot as a suspected burglar would not go down well with his family.
Reaching the back door, he slipped a set of skeleton keys from out of his coat pocket and set to work picking the lock. He stole inside and silently closed the door behind him.
He headed upstairs. The first thing he noticed as he crept about the upper floors of the house was the chill in the air. From the feel of it, fires had not been lit in the various rooms for many days.
He got to one door in the middle of the long hallway and stopped. A faint light could be seen under the bottom of the door. Someone was living in the house.
The temptation to open the door and step into the room was tempered by the knowledge that he had no legal right to be in the house. If Hattie was in residence, she would be well within her rights to shoot a late-night intruder.
He put his face close to the door and whispered.
“Tomorrow my love. Sleep well tonight.”
The following morning Will caught up with his father before heading out to meet with the agent who was handling the lease of the Wright’s house. There was no point in delaying the news that he was not going to be staying at Dover Street for much longer.
“Your brother and sisters will be disappointed, not to say anything of how your mother will take this news,” remarked Charles.
Will grimaced. There was never going to be an easy way to inform his family that he was moving out of Dover Street and into his own house.
“I'm sorry father, but it has to be this way. I have lived too many years on my own, I find it difficult to live here. No offence intended,” replied Will.
His father nodded.
“None taken.”
As soon as he had arrived back in London, Will knew the days he could stay in his childhood home were numbered. In the years since Yvette's death he had become used to his own company. The silence of the house in Paris where he had lodged with Madame Dessaint had been a blessing. The calm quiet had allowed him to mourn his wife's death and attempt to find the inner peace he so desperately craved.
The near constant interaction with his family was confronting. At times he found himself wincing at the volume of the discussion around the breakfast table.
“I won't be far away. Bat has managed to find me a house in Newport Street. That’s why he called in last night. Besides the sooner I have my own digs, the sooner I can look to securing a wife,” he replied.
“I am pleased that you are ready to move on with your life. Not that you will ever forget Yvette.”
It was comforting to know that he could now talk about Yvette without feeling that the blackness of grief would overwhelm him.
As for his parents, they had made no secret of the fact that they wished to see all their children settled in happy marriages. If Will remained at home, then Francis and Caroline would feel under no obligation to enter the marriage market. He owed it to them and himself to set up his own home.
There was another bonus to having his own home. By being away from Dover Street he could find out more about Eve’s potential husband Freddie Rosemount without her knowledge. Saving his sister from an imprudent marriage was worth more than a year’s lease on his new home.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hattie closed the garden gate behind her. While she made certain to do it quietly, the anger which flared in her mind made her want to do otherwise. How sorely she wished she could slam it shut.
“How hard can it be?” she muttered tersely.
She and the Littles had agreed that as part of the subterfuge of her living undetected in her family home, it was paramount that any passer-by considered th
e house to be unoccupied. No lights were to be seen from the upper floors at night. The single candle she used in her bedroom was always kept well away from the windows.
Returning to the house late in the evening after having helped Mrs. Mayford through a difficult day, Hattie was in no mood to deal with servants who could not be trusted to follow simple instructions.
As soon as she turned into Newport Street, she could see that the whole of the second floor of the house was flooded with light.
“It looks like a fairy palace.”
Once inside she would be having stern words with Mr. and Mrs. Little. She stomped down the garden path, only to be met by Mr. Little who was waiting for her outside the door to the kitchen.
Hattie shot up her hand and pointed it skyward toward the well-lit windows.
Mr. Little sighed. “Now before you go getting all upset Miss Hattie, let me explain something,” he said.
She gritted her teeth. From the worried expression on his face, she suspected Mr. Little was the bearer of bad news.
“Yes?” she replied.
“Someone's taken the house.”
It took a moment or so for her to process his words. As much as she tried to accept what he had said, her mind firmly blocked it.
How could someone have taken the house? This was her home. Who had taken possession?
“Says he has the contract and paperwork all in order. Man, from your father's solicitor came with him earlier today. Told us we had to get out.”
Hattie blinked. “He threw you out?” she exclaimed.
“He did, but the new tenant said we could stay. He said since Mrs. Little and I know the house so well, we could be of use to him.”
Hattie swallowed down the lump of fear which had formed in her throat. As of this moment she was homeless. She suddenly felt a strong kinship to those whom she routinely rendered charitable assistance. Apart from her well-made clothes and comfortable boots she had little more than they did at this moment. What was she to do?
My Gentleman Spy (The Duke of Strathmore Book 5) Page 15