by Deb Marlowe
“We must call on Miss Minett at her home.”
Barbara’s book snapped closed and she perched on the edge of her chair. “You wish to know her better? Oh, this is so exciting. She’s the sweetest girl, I know you’ll love her as much as I do.”
Panic hit him. Holding up his hands, Giles stepped back. “No, it’s nothing like that. While you visit with her, I’ll be looking for a painting Grandmother is certain was left behind when she and Grandfather moved.”
“That was more than sixty years ago. She believes the painting will be hanging in the same spot now? And more, she believes it wasn’t thrown out when the new owners moved in?”
“I asked those very questions, but she insists it’s extremely important she find it.”
Slumping back in her chair with a grunt, Barbara gritted her teeth. “And here I thought you were attracted to her. I cannot allow you to break her heart by pretending interest for the sole intention of looting her home.”
“That’s not it at all. Grandmother wants her painting back.” He agreed with his sister completely, but could see no other way of finding the painting.
“Why don’t you ask Mrs. Minett if she knows of the painting and if we might buy it from her?”
Giles stroked his chin. Leave it to Barbara to find the logical answer. “Will you accompany me, then? I don’t want Mrs. Minett to make assumptions about my paying them a call.”
Barbara shook her head and toyed with a loose curl in front of her ear. “I should force you to go alone.” After a moment, she frowned. “No, I can’t do that to Tabby. Mama will want to go with us. I’ll ask her when we’re free to visit them.”
His mother must come, too? How would she feel about the quest for the painting? Did she even know of its existence?
If he were wise, he’d let Mother know of Grandmother’s request and let her negotiate the entire matter. He snorted. If he were wise, he’d spend his days at St. Stephen’s Chapel in Parliament. Grandmother would soon forget she’d asked about the painting.
Once Barbara had the chance to bring Giles and Miss Minett together, she wasted no time in making it happen. The very next day Giles led his mother and sister up the town house steps to pay a morning call on the Minetts.
Tabitha and her sister Lavinia were in conversation with two other young ladies when they arrived. Mother and Mrs. Minett took seats to one side of the room, likely to share some gossip they wished to keep from younger ears.
Giles took a spot at the window and watched the carriages roll past. He hated polite visits as much as he hated parsnips. He approached the older women in just the same manner as he’d eaten parsnips—held his breath and forced himself to finish the distasteful task.
“You and your daughters are as lovely as always,” he said, and allowed her time to preen and brag on her daughters. Pretending to study the large seascape over the fireplace, he said, “Your husband’s parents bought this house from my grandfather, I believe.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Minett answered.
Mother frowned, watching him through narrowed eyes. She had an incredible knack for knowing when he had a scheme in mind.
“Were the furnishings included in the purchase?”
“Giles, don’t be rude.” Mother kept her voice low, but her fury was poorly restrained.
“Forgive me, I merely wondered about some of the artwork. My grandmother has mentioned a painting of her childhood home that meant a lot to her. She believes it might have been left here when they moved.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know. No one would have paid much attention to that sort of thing. Was it of great value?” If Mrs. Minett was affronted, she hid it well.
“Only of the sentimental sort.”
“Giles, you mustn’t put much thought to the ramblings of your grandmother. Have you spoken to Miss Minett and Miss Tabitha?” She motioned slightly with her head for him to leave.
He nodded his head in a polite bow and joined his sister and the others. Barbara raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook his head. “What is the latest on dit? Have any betrothals been announced?”
Tabby tipped her head to one side, her green eyes as bright as when they’d agreed to protect each other from unwanted attachments. He hoped she hadn’t misconstrued his ridiculous suggestion. “I can’t imagine you are interested in hearing such things. You preferred to speak with our mothers than us. Whatever could they have been talking about to draw your intrigue?”
“Ah…yes. I…My grandparents used to live here, were you aware of that?”
Her brows drew together and she waved her hand absently. “I hadn’t given it a thought. What a happy circumstance.” She spoke with a heavy dose of treacle which he understood to be sarcasm.
“Isn’t it?” He never should have come.
Barbara leaned closer to the sisters. “Grandmama recently recalled a painting she hasn’t seen in years. She insists it is here, in your home. It’s a ridiculous notion to which we should pay no heed.” She gave him a warning glare.
Lavinia, Tabby’s elder sister, shook her head in sympathy. “Our grandmother was much that way before she died. It’s sad to see their minds drift away.”
Giles stiffened. His hands clenched to keep him from defending his relative. She wasn’t senile, even if she was a bit more sentimental that one should be over an object.
“I find it exciting. There must be a story behind it, for her to remember it after so long. I can’t imagine it was a family portrait. Someone would have noticed it had gone missing. Was it a favorite pet, perhaps?” Tabby smiled coyly.
He’d made a cake of it, to come here in the first place. He must change the subject before it got any further misconstrued. “Merely a landscape. She likely misses the home of her childhood.”
“Perhaps we should look for it?” Tabby rose and walked toward the hallway.
“No, I don’t think that’s wise.” It was exactly the solution he needed, but he couldn’t slip away with her unnoticed.
“Tabitha, where are you going?” her mother called.
“Lord Giles wishes to see the home where his grandparents lived.”
Barbara jumped to her feet. “I do, too. May we explore, Mrs. Minett?”
“I suppose so.”
Giles followed the two girls out of the room. If his luck held, they’d find the landscape and he could be done with the entire scheme.
“How will we know the picture?” Tabby led the way into the next room.
“We should recognize the land around Danby Castle. The artist is Jean Claude Pinot.”
“I told him not to go on such a foolish errand,” Barbara said, her chin lifted. “But Giles is quite stubborn. You shouldn’t encourage him, Tabby.”
“I hope when I’m in my dotage, my grandchildren will humor me.”
The first three rooms they searched had no landscapes of any sort.
Tabby opened the door to the library. “Did the dowager duchess mention where the painting hung while she lived here?”
“I hadn’t thought to ask,” Giles admitted. “At the time, I wasn’t certain I’d even look for the painting.”
“If you’d have listened to me, we’d be on our way to our next call.” Barbara crossed her arms over her chest.
Standing beside Tabby, he smiled and nodded toward his sister. “She doesn’t mean to imply she’s eager to leave you.”
Barbara shook her head. “I meant nothing of the sort. This is a foolish errand and I’m sorry we’re taking up your time. We’ve overstayed our welcome.”
Having viewed the four walls in the room, Tabby returned to the door. “I’m still enjoying your company, so you are more than welcome to stay.”
Giles realized he enjoyed being with Tabby. Their conversation was casual, there was no flirtation at all, and he was quite content to walk through the house with her. He was comfortable beside her.
At that moment, alarm struck him. His stomach clenched. He’d better find the painting quickly or he might do something foo
lish like call on Tabby on his own.
A loud knock woke Giles the next morning. “Yes?”
A footman peered around the doorway as if he feared his head might be bitten off. “A letter has arrived for you, my lord.”
“Set it there.” Giles motioned toward a small table and pulled his bedclothes over his head.
“I was told to inform you it is urgent you read this.”
“And you’ve done your duty. That will be all.”
“Your father’s servant brought it here directly.”
Sighing, Giles yanked the covers down. “Very well.”
The footman disappeared before Giles could rise. The letter bore Barbara’s handwriting, not his father’s. He unfolded the paper.
Danby is in Town.
He dropped the note like a stray ember. The Duke of Danby abhorred London. There could only be one reason for their great uncle to come this far from Yorkshire. He hadn’t managed to trick enough of his grandnieces and -nephews into marriage when they were at Danby Castle last Christmas.
Even as far back as Giles’ grandmother’s time, Danby decided who and when his relations should marry. Most of Giles’ relatives were married due to the Duke’s interference, either directly or indirectly.
Wickham and Eleanor were among those victims from this past Christmas. Granted, they were happy and undeniably in love, but they’d never have met if Danby hadn’t sent out his annual invitations. Invitation translated into a summons, in this case. One that couldn’t be ignored.
Someone must have ignored his demands, however, or Danby wouldn’t have come looking for them. Having no intention of marrying anytime soon, Giles decided to spend as much time as possible at St. Stephen’s Chapel performing his duties as a Member of Parliament.
Picking up the note, he read the rest.
Cousin Harriet heard from Cousin Meredith that Cousin Grace saw Uncle Danby at Emma Heathfield’s al fresco yesterday. Please come home as soon as you read this. We must make plans to avoid Danby.
What good would Giles’ presence at home do to prevent the duke from meddling? The man could send for any of his relations at any moment and pronounce who he’d chosen for them to marry. The farther Giles stayed from his family, the better.
As he re-folded the note, he saw his sister’s delicate writing on the back.
Please!
He couldn’t ignore her. If he dressed quickly, he could call on her and be on his way to St. Stephen’s in no time.
Barbara rushed out of the morning room the moment Giles stepped inside the entry door. “What shall we do? I refuse to be forced to marry someone I’m incapable of tolerating.” She grasped his hands, squeezing them tightly.
He urged her back into the morning room. “Danby can’t force you to marry. You and I both escaped his matchmaking schemes at Christmas. We’ll do so again. With as many cousins as we have he’ll be too busy to notice we aren’t at hand.”
“I’m not as confident as you in my ability to avoid him.”
“What about Lord Aaron? He’s paid you some notice this year. Has he spoken of his feelings? If you need me to encourage him to speak up soon, I will gladly do it. Then you needn’t fear being forced to marry.”
“He’s said nothing. He’s…he’s not as outspoken as you are. At times I’m certain he’s about to declare himself, but he talks of the weather instead. I’m losing hope.”
“If you think I’m outspoken regarding my feelings, you are quite mistaken. When it comes to love, I’m safe from that trap. Lord Aaron is reserved. He might never speak poetic words to you, but I’m certain he’ll talk to Father before the end of the Season.”
Barbara’s eyes welled with tears. “Do you really believe that? I hope he does so quickly enough. I can’t quite tell Uncle that I suspect I can expect a proposal soon when I don’t know Lord Aaron’s true intentions.”
Giles must speak to Wickham about staying close to Barbara at any entertainment they attended. He and Ellie could whisk her away if Danby drew near. “All will be well, Barbara. Rather than distressing yourself, sit back and enjoy the entertainment of watching our cousins escape the threat of leg shackles.”
She could enjoy it, but Giles would avoid it at all costs. He had no desire to hurt whichever poor, innocent young lady his uncle has chosen for him. They weren’t pawns for Uncle’s entertainment. Even if Danby felt he could interfere with his family, he had no right to meddle in the futures of others.
Chapter 3
“Giles, you’re aware you can’t hide from Danby for the entire season.” Wickham smiled and nodded at a matron and her daughters walking past them as they strolled a path in Hyde Park. The usual crush filled the park in their curricles, on horseback, and on foot, eager to be seen as a member of the ton.
Giles stepped around a mud puddle. “I can do my best to try. I was able to escape his castle without becoming betrothed last Christmas. With so many cousins to meddle with, how can he keep track of each one?”
“He’ll manage. You may as well accept the fact it’s time to choose a wife.”
Gritting his teeth, Giles bristled at the idea of not being free to marry at his own choosing. Having someone select his bride was intolerable. Having that someone tell him when he must marry was beyond the pale. If Giles were the heir to the dukedom, he might see the reasoning behind some urgency in marrying and producing an heir. Yet Giles was heir to nothing. He could stay single his entire life and not upset the legacy of Stapleton.
He did want a family. Eventually. He enjoyed the company of his brother and sister, and always assumed he’d have several children. He’d have several children in his own time. How belittling it was for Danby to treat them as if they still wore leading strings. Boys in shorts unable to think for themselves. Unable to plan their own futures.
If he had a girl he was fond of he might feel differently about the subject. But he didn’t. Many of the girls of his acquaintance were pretty, were pleasant company, but he wanted more. Even though it made him sound like Barbara after reading one of her novels, Giles wanted a passionate love. Only a woman who lit up a room, lit up his heart, would do.
A grand barouche approached, its brightly-colored wheels making it stand out. Its passengers were obviously nobility from the way those on the path around it bowed their heads and smiled.
“It appears you’ve been discovered.” Wickham nudged Giles. “There’s Danby himself. Too late to avoid him now.”
The vehicle stopped in front of the men, blocking the lane in either direction. Danby said nothing, his gaze pinned on Giles.
“Your Grace, how pleasant to see you again so soon.” Danby would know Giles meant nothing of the sort.
“Wickham, Giles.” Danby’s smile was predatory. A matron sat beside him, and two young ladies in the opposite seat twisted to peer over their shoulders at the brothers. “May I present Lady Auburton and her daughters, Lady Marjory and Lady Uriana?”
Giles nodded in acknowledgement. “Are you ladies enjoying your ride? It’s such a pleasant day.”
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Did you receive the invitation to our ball tomorrow evening? I know we sent one. I do hope you’ll dance with me.” Lady Marjory paused for a breath but her mother spoke before she could continue.
“Daughter, one mustn’t ask a gentleman to dance. One waits for him to ask.” Lady Auburton glared at Giles with obvious intent.
“Ah, yes. My sister and I do plan to attend. And I hope you’ll save a dance for me.”
Wickham kept silent. Being married, he was exempt from the expectation of asking for a dance. Without even looking at his brother, Giles knew he was chewing the corner of his lips to hide a smirk. He had no sympathy for Giles’ situation, even though he’d been there himself just a few months prior. Not only had Wickham found the woman he loved, he married her at the soonest moment. Of course he would laugh at Giles’ hope to escape the parson’s noose. Perhaps if there were another young lady of Eleanor’s beauty, wit and accomplish
ment Giles would consider the possibility of falling in love.
As he’d never met a woman who compared to Eleanor, with the exception of his sister Barbara, of course, there was no need to even discuss the matter.
He realized Lady Uriana’s eyebrows were lifted as she looked at him, her hopefulness plain to see in her eyes. “Lady Uriana, will you also grace me with a dance?”
Her gloved fingers pressed against her lips but her giggle escaped anyway. “Yes, Lord Giles.”
Giles turned his gaze on Danby, asking the silent question if he’d met his duty.
Danby nodded. “We’ll continue with our drive. We’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
The brothers stepped to one side to let the barouche pass. Watching it drive away, Giles shook his head. “It’s eerie how he always knows where his family members can be found. Do you suppose he’s part gypsy?”
“He likely keeps one in his basement with her gazing ball at hand to track us down. Escape is futile, I tell you. My guess is Lady Marjory has been chosen as your wife. She seemed to think so, from the way she looked at you.”
“You mean that predatory gleam in her eye? I wonder if any of Eleanor’s sisters would be willing to pose as my particular friend?”
“They’re looking for husbands. You’d jeopardize their chances for the season.”
Giles toed a pebble off the path, only barely restraining from kicking his frustration away. “I could always leave Town.”
“And go where? You’d do better to spend your evenings in St. Stephen’s Chapel. That’s a valid excuse. Except for tonight. You’ve already promised yourself.” Wickham chuckled. “I hadn’t planned to join Eleanor and Barbara, but now I believe all shall. This should be quite entertaining.”
An hour after Tabby arrived at Lady Auburton’s ball she had yet to see Giles. He had other duties, she knew, but that didn’t make her disappointment any easier to bear. Just as she let out a sigh, she spotted him across the room. She whispered to Ellie. “He’s here.”
“Shall we say hello?”