Evangeline carried a stack of books to the library table to add to the other towering stacks. “Auntie,” she teased, “you would ask for a blanket in hell.”
“Evangeline, language!” Aunt Beatrice made a tsking noise, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.
Sophia, who had claimed a spot on the ladder, tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Shouldn’t she be sent to bed without supper? I could eat her dessert, so it doesn’t go to waste.”
“You always were a plotter,” Evangeline grumbled, but it was all in good fun.
Regina chuckled and grabbed a book from one of the towering stacks crowding the sturdy table. There was just enough space for one of them to flip through the books in search of the map. She fanned the pages before turning the book upside down and shaking it.
Aunt Beatrice looked up from her knitting. “What in heaven’s name are you doing, Regina?”
“Clearing the dust from the pages.”
“Why isn’t Mrs. Cox cleaning the library?”
“Dust makes her sneeze, Auntie,” Sophia said as she passed a book to Evangeline who was standing at the foot of the ladder.
“A maid with an aversion to dust? I have never heard of such a thing.”
It took a moment for Aunt Beatrice to realize Sophia was joking. “Oh, Sophia Anastasia Marietta Jane.” Aunt Beatrice snorted. “Jane? Whatever was your mother thinking when she chose names for you girls?”
Regina laughed. Only Aunt Beatrice would oppose a normal name like Jane. “If I recall, Papa insisted his mother’s name be included somewhere.”
“Such an unreasonable man,” Aunt Beatrice said with a pitying shake of her head and returned to her knitting.
Regina hardly thought allowing Mama free rein to name her and her sisters was the act of an unreasonable man. Smitten and indulgent? Absolutely. Also a testament to how much their father had loved their mother. And she had loved him, so each of her daughters bore the name Jane in addition to a Christian name shared with an angel.
“Was Mama always interested in angels?” Sophia asked. “Sometimes I drag out her charts just to see her handwriting.”
Aunt Beatrice’s face softened. “Not when she was a girl, but your mother and uncle were curious children. She was as likely to be caked in dirt as Charlie was. The two of them were always traipsing around the countryside in search of buried treasures.”
Evangeline returned to the table with a load of books in her arms. “I never knew Mama was interested in antiquities. It must be in my blood.”
“Oh, yes. She was heartbroken when Charlie left on his first expedition and your grandparents made her stay behind. Her interest in angels began after he returned and brought back his first find. It was a piece of a sculpture depicting an angel. She was intrigued by the fact he’d uncovered it in India.”
The front bell rang, interrupting their reminiscing.
“I will see who it is.” Evangeline placed the stack of books on the table and left to answer the door.
“Are you expecting Mr. Vistoire?” Sophia asked as she descended the ladder.
“Not until this afternoon. He has taken rooms at the Pulteney Hotel and is moving his belongings this morning.”
Aunt Beatrice muttered her approval. “The man is thinking ahead. You’ll need a place to spend your wedding night.”
Grabbing another book from the pile, Regina ducked her head as heat flooded over her, fearful if Auntie saw her face, she would know Regina and Xavier hadn’t exactly waited for their wedding night.
Her aunt chuckled. “You young girls fluster too easily.”
Evangeline returned with Crispin in tow before Aunt Beatrice said anything else embarrassing. “Look who I found lurking on the front stoop. Lord Margrave.”
Cupid’s head popped up at the mention of his favorite visitor’s name.
Crispin’s gaze darted toward Sophia. “I wasn’t lurking. I have come with a purpose.”
Sophia shrugged as if she didn’t care why he was at Wedmore House, but she abandoned her task to sit in a chair and fold her hands in her lap.
“The special license has been granted.” He pulled a folded paper from his jacket and brought it to Regina. “I took the liberty of speaking with Vicar Burnett, and he has agreed to perform the ceremony tomorrow morning at nine.”
Regina’s stomach pitched. “Tomorrow? That is sooner than I expected.” She’d hoped to find the map and remove it from Wedmore House before she and Xavier were expected to retire to the hotel.
“I will cancel with the vicar if you have come to your senses,” Crispin said. “Perhaps you would like more time to become acquainted with your betrothed.”
She smiled as sweetly as possible while grinding her teeth. Most ladies knew much less about their future husbands than Regina did about Xavier, but she couldn’t very well contradict Crispin without admitting to matters that were none of his concern.
“You are a dear friend.” Regina accepted the license and cupped his hand between hers. “Tomorrow will be grand. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” His grim expression said otherwise. “Do you mind if I sit a moment?”
“Not at all,” Aunt Beatrice said. “You are always welcome at Wedmore House.”
He grabbed a library chair from the table and sat, tipping his head to the side to study the piles of books. “What are you doing to Wedmore’s library?”
“Dusting the shelves,” Sophia said with a slightly defiant edge to her tone.
“I see.” His brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath, releasing it in a slow stream. Considering he and Sophia had been at each other’s throats the last time they’d gathered, he was likely trying to control his temper. “Miss Sophia, this morning at the club I heard you have developed an interest in cartography.”
Sophia sat up straighter. “At your club? How could that be?”
“Your suitors were discussing it. They seemed perplexed by the possibility anyone would find the subject fascinating, much less a lady.”
Sophia bristled. “What does being a lady have to do with anything? Am I supposed to have wool between my ears and care only about gowns and bonnets?”
A grudging smile spread across his face. “Not all ladies have wool between their ears. I’ve always found Miss Darlington and Miss Evangeline better conversationalists than most gents.”
A scarlet flush climbed Sophia’s face. “My sisters are intelligent.” She surged to her feet, appearing ready to storm from the library. “And I’m just another dotty chit with nothing on her mind besides marriage.”
“I never said you were dotty.” Crispin grabbed her hand when she tried to bolt. “You are just as intelligent, I’m sure of it. But you must admit, you rarely engage in conversation with me, so it is difficult to form an opinion about what is between your ears.”
“Is it any wonder I avoid you when you insist on insulting me?” She tried to jerk her hand free, but he held tight.
Aunt Beatrice glanced up from her knitting, appearing not the least bit unsettled by their display. “Please don’t quarrel, children. It is growing tedious.”
Sophia gawked at their aunt.
“Do they argue often, Auntie?” Evangeline asked.
“Only every time they cross paths.”
Sophia glared at Crispin. “And only because he has a knack for being annoying.”
“I didn’t come here to insult you,” he said with an impressive modicum of decorum. “I was hoping to call a truce. Wedmore wouldn’t want us arguing like we have been.”
Sophia’s angry glower began to slip. “I am sure you are correct, and I don’t want to disappoint Uncle Charles. He considers you as close to a son as he will ever have.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as if she was defeated. “Very well. I promise not to argue with you anymore.”
He smiled and released her arm. “I hope you will still challenge me occasionally. Otherwise the Season would become exceptionally dull.”
“We can’t even agree on not a
rguing.” She released an airy chuckle and plopped back into her seat.
“Yes, but we do have a common interest,” he said. “Cartography. When I travel, I chart the lay of the land.”
Regina came forward. “I never knew that about you. How long have you drawn maps?”
Crispin shrugged. “As long as I can recall. I used to copy old maps when I was a child. Then I drew maps of our house and neighborhood.”
“Did you ever draw any for Uncle Charles from your travels?”
“A couple of times, maybe. Why do you ask?”
Regina waved off his question. “Curiosity. We were discussing Mama and Uncle Charles earlier. It is fun to discover new facts about others.”
His strong brows lowered over his hazel eyes. For one tense moment, she worried he would question her further. Instead, he swung his attention back to Sophia.
“There is a noon lecture at the museum on travel routes used during the Crusades and the men who charted the terrain. Given your interest in such subjects, I thought you might like to accompany me.”
“We accept,” Regina blurted.
Crispin’s jaw muscles bulged, and when he smiled, it was more a gritting of teeth than an expression of pleasure. “You should join us as well, Miss Darlington.”
“I would be delighted.” She flashed an innocent smile, fully recognizing the sarcasm in his voice and choosing to ignore it. “Thank you.”
“Aren’t your forgetting someone, Regina?” Aunt Beatrice piped up. “You are expecting Mr. Vistoire.”
“Not until much later.”
“Be that as it may, you are not an appropriate chaperone for your sister, at least not until after your wedding.” Her aunt folded her knitting with the needles tucked inside and bent forward to drop it in her sewing basket, waking Cupid again. “I will resume chaperone duties.”
“Auntie,” Regina said, “Dr. Portier recommended you rest for the next few days.”
“I will have plenty of time to sleep. I am attending a lecture.”
Further protests proved futile, so Regina conceded. “Very well. Evangeline and I will finish cleaning the library while you are gone. In the meantime, I can assist Sophia into a fresh gown.”
Regina linked arms with her youngest sister and hauled her from the chair. When they reached Sophia’s chambers above stairs, Sophia placed her hands on her hips. “While you and Aunt Beatrice were debating who should perform chaperone duties, no one thought to ask if I would like to go to the lecture.”
Regina swept to Sophia’s wardrobe and flung the doors open. “You must go. The man who wants the map could be at the lecture.” She snatched a green walking dress from a peg then presented it to Sophia for her approval.
She shook her head. “The blue one, please.”
Regina exchanged the green gown for the blue and brought it to the bed. “I am sorry, Soph. I realize Crispin tries your patience, but one of us should be at the museum today. You needn’t question anyone. Just take note of the speaker and who attends his lecture.”
Sophia dropped on the side of the bed, rested her elbows on her knees, and propped her chin in her hand. “I understand that I must go, and I will, but what if Margrave asks me a question I cannot answer? I know nothing about maps.”
“You can pretend to trip. He will forget what he asked while he is seeing to your welfare.”
Sophia’s blond eyebrows lifted. “And what if we’re sitting?”
“I don’t know. Uh, drop something.”
“Like what?”
Regina swung her head side to side searching for an object Sophia could take with her that wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. She spotted a folded handkerchief with delicate pink roses stitched at the corner on the bedside table and grabbed it. “Drop this.”
Regina shook the flimsy muslin square in front of Sophia, and she grabbed it. “Fine, but I might be dropping my handkerchief all afternoon.”
“Then perhaps Crispin will be too winded from retrieving it to ask anymore questions.”
Sophia giggled and hugged the square to her chest. “Now I want to drop it more than necessary. A silent Margrave would be music to my ears.”
Twenty-seven
Later that morning, Xavier’s sister followed him to the foyer of the town house she shared with her husband and son. “I still don’t understand the reason you are letting rooms at the Pulteney. We have plenty of space and we enjoy your company.”
Xavier placed his valise beside the door and decided to change tactics. “You will have less space once the baby arrives. I’m sorry, but I need quiet and privacy.”
Serafine winced, and he wanted more than anything to recant. Hurting his sister was not part of his plan to protect her, but she wasn’t accepting his decision to move to the hotel.
He softened his voice. “I enjoy your company as well, Sera. I’m not setting up house across the sea. Once you return from Brighton, you may visit whenever you like. Simon and Isaac are welcome as well.”
“Perhaps we should postpone our holiday until after your wedding.”
“Lisette needs you more than I. Our cousin will give birth any day, and she is likely frightened out of her wits. She has always looked to you for guidance. You should be there for her and Rafe.”
Rafe was Lisette’s younger brother, and he’d been the center of his sister’s attention since their mother died in childbirth. An infant in the home would take some adjustment.
“The boy might feel ignored for a while after the baby arrives,” he said, “and your presence will bring him comfort.”
She bit her bottom lip, as she seemed to grapple with her choices. “I suppose you are right about Lisette needing me,” she said at last, “but I would like to be here for you, too. I wanted to be present for your wedding.”
“I understand. I wish I could have been here for your wedding. I’m sorry I missed your special moments.”
And all the smaller ones in between.
A lump formed in his throat, and Xavier placed his arm around Serafine’s shoulders. Too much time had been lost between them already, and now even more was being stolen. But a temporary separation was preferable to losing each other forever.
“Please go to Brighton. Miss Darlington and I won’t marry for several weeks, and you would miss out on the birth if you waited.”
He hated lying to his sister, but he wanted her far from London when the time came to challenge Farrin.
“What if my bride and I honeymoon in Brighton?” he asked. “Our family would have an opportunity to become acquainted with Regina, and I would like to meet Lisette’s husband and welcome the new babe.”
A bright smile lit Serafine’s face. “That would be lovely.” She gave him a brief hug then stepped away as if she needed to release him quickly or she would never let him go. “Do you promise to come to Brighton?”
“I do. And do you promise to set off at dawn? You have a long journey ahead.”
“I will see that she makes good time.” Xavier looked up to see Isaac descending the stairs. Serafine’s husband came to slip his arm around her waist. “It is time to let your brother go. You will reunite soon.”
“I know.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she leaned her head against Isaac’s shoulder. “Do you swear we will see each other again?”
“Yes.” Xavier’s voice cracked. “This is a temporary separation. Remember, I am not going anywhere.”
After his discussion with Regina’s aunt, he’d come to a decision. The family house in New Orleans held too many unpleasant memories. He didn’t want to raise his children in a home tainted by anger and despair. England would become his home, where his bride would be happiest and his kin would be close.
He retrieved his valise. “We will see you in Brighton.”
Serafine allowed him to walk out her door this time. The hack he had ordered was waiting in the street. He glanced around the neighborhood in search of Farrin’s men, but he only spotted an old woman in a hooded cape moving in his direc
tion, a footman approaching the door of the house on the corner, and a few ladies out for a stroll. The street had been clear of Farrin’s thugs all morning, but Xavier had no doubt he was still being watched. A prickle of unease lifted the hair on the back of his neck.
The coachman opened the carriage door and placed the steps for him. “May I take your case, sir?”
He handed it to the man and grabbed the door to steady his climb when something tugged at his jacket. He startled and turned to discover the old woman clinging to him. The hood blocked her face from view. A beggar in need.
The coachman’s boots thudded against the cobbles when he hopped from the carriage. “Move away, wench.”
“Xavier,” she mumbled and lifted her head.
He gasped at the sight of her—her eye was swollen shut and her lip was split. “Claudine? What happened? Who did this to you?”
Her chin quivered. “The duke.”
Xavier cursed under his breath and darted his gaze around the neighborhood to see if she’d been followed. Madame Parma had compared Claudine to a bird in a gilded cage. The Duke of Stanhurst wouldn’t allow her far from sight.
“Are you certain you were not followed?”
“No one pays attention to old women. I wasn’t followed.”
He took in her tattered attire, recalling how he had mistaken her for an elderly woman moments earlier. The way she’d slumped forward, as if her back were bent from years of bearing heavy loads, and her wobbling walk had convinced him at a glance. She had always been an excellent actress.
Xavier placed his hand on the small of her back. “Climb inside. I will take you someplace safe.”
He considered providing shelter at the Pulteney Hotel and quickly discarded the idea. She might be recognized, which would make the duke’s task of tracking her easier. He knew of only one place where she would be given safe haven.
Once he had her settled in the carriage, he spoke quietly with the driver. “My destination is Conduit Street. Wedmore House.”
Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Uncle Charlie's Angels Book 1) Page 20