After a moment, Nate nodded. “Lieutenant Avery, isn’t it?”
Avery! That was most definitely it. “Yer memory is better than mine.”
“He was in the same infirmary Throssell was before we left Belgium. Visiting an injured friend of his, a Major Moore, I believe.”
That did sound right. At this point, a familiar face was better than a non-familiar one. And a fellow officer was an added bonus. “He seems like a good one to ask.” Griff started towards the small group of men that made up the lieutenant’s set, Nate right behind him. “Avery, isn’t it?” he asked just as soon as he was within earshot of the man and his two companions.
Lieutenant Avery turned his attention from his friends to Griff and Nate and smiled welcomingly. “Captain Reid and Lieutenant Colonel Carrick?”
“Aye.” Griff cocked his head towards Nate. “But he’s Healeyfield now, courtesy of His Majesty.”
The lieutenant and his companions all glanced in unison at Nate. “Well, congratulations,” a blonde fellow said. “I’m Clayworth and—” he gestured to the larger man beside him “—this is Astwick.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nate replied.
“You as well.” The large, burly Astwick nodded in greeting.
“I was hoping ye might be able to point us in the right direction.”
“The right direction?” Lieutenant Avery echoed.
“Aye. We’re looking for the Earl of Peasemore. Have ye seen him by chance?”
“Actually, yes.” Clayworth gestured to a doorway at the far end of the wall. “He went into the card room, not long ago.”
What a stroke of luck. Griff truly hadn’t thought their little wild goose chase would merit any results. But now…Well, what was he supposed to say to a man he’d never met before? Pardon me, but my fiancée would like to know which social event ye’re planning on attending this evening. Most definitely not. He’d have to come up with something better than that.
“You served along side Lieutenant Avery?” Lord Astwick asked, his light green eyes focused on Griff.
Griff shook his head. “We were involved in some of the same campaigns. But Healeyfield and I are part of the King’s Dragoon Guards.”
“Of course, of course,” Lord Astwick began. “The regimentals should have given that away.” Then he smiled. “My wife’s from Dumfriesshire. Her first husband was part of the Scots Greys.”
“A valiant group of men.”
“Indeed.” His lordship agreed with a nod of his head. “Hannah spent a dozen years with them, following the drum. I’m certain she’d love to meet you. Returned officer and Scotsman, you’ll make her day.”
Well, making the acquaintance of some English lord and his Scottish wife had been the furthest thing from Griff’s mind when he’d walked into the club. But an ally was an ally. And who knew when Griff might need a powerful English friend. “I’m at yer service.”
Nate cleared his throat. “Peasemore,” he muttered, reminding Griff of their purpose.
Oh, of course. The real reason he was here. However, it might be easier to ask these fellows than Peasemore himself, at least until he knew what he was dealing with. “I know ye said he was in the card room, but what sort of man is this Peasemore, if ye don’t mind me asking?”
Lords Clayworth and Astwick glanced at each other and shrugged. “Seems an all right sort to me,” Clayworth replied.
“A bit of a rake,” Lieutenant Avery added.
“Not the best card player,” Astwick said with a shrug.
Lord Clayworth laughed at that. “No one is the best card player in comparison to Astwick here. So take that with a grain of salt.”
Not that Griff cared one whit about the man’s abilities at a gaming table. But… “A bit of a rake?” he echoed, focusing his attention on the lieutenant. Why the devil was Ellie trying to keep track of a rake? He was quite certain he wouldn’t care for the answer to that, and his blood began to boil anew. Damn her. Whatever she was up to…
“Nothing in comparison with how my brother was,” Lieutenant Avery assured him. “But he does have rakish tendencies.”
“Carraway’s cousin, isn’t he?” Clayworth asked, to which Lieutenant Avery nodded in response.
The look Nate flashed Griff made it clear he thought there was nothing to worry about. But Nate always thought the best of people. Nate was accustomed to dealing with honorable men regardless of their station in life. Nate hadn’t been raised right alongside the MacLarens.
“I’m supposed to find out which event the man is planning to attend this evening,” he said before he realized the words were out of his mouth and thought the better of saying them to near perfect strangers.
“Oh.” Lord Astwick perked up. “He’ll be at Louisa Ridgemont’s ball, if he wants access to her bed.”
“Chet,” Clayworth admonished beneath his breath. “You gossip worse than a lady.”
“Who do you think told me about Peasemore and Louisa Ridgemont?” Lord Astwick’s booming laugh echoed about the room. “Your wife, that’s who.”
“Huh.” Lieutenant Avery snorted. “Cordie’s been holed up in Clayworth House nearly all season. If she knows it, must be public knowledge.”
“Caroline Staveley is an old friend of Lady Ridgemont,” Clayworth said quite stoically. “I’m certain the topic came up during one of Caro’s many visits.” Then he shook his head in reprimand. “But, regardless, we shouldn’t perpetuate the rumor.”
Griff couldn’t care less whose bed Peasemore was sharing, unless the man had his eye on Elspeth MacLaren. But did he? That was the question.
So the Ridgemont ball, was it? A way to keep his eye on the man, gather a bit of intelligence? That was a bit of good luck, he supposed. Nate would have to be at that particular ball anyway. At least he’d have one friendly face in the crowd, perhaps more. “Is that where all of ye plan to be tonight?”
“My wife and I’ll be at home this evening,” Lord Clayworth said, without missing a beat.
“Mine will drag me there, I’m sure,” the lieutenant complained as though he was most put upon.
Lord Astwick shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on it, but my interest has been piqued. Besides, it’ll give me the opportunity to introduce you to my wife.”
That was good news, actually. With Avery and Astwick present, the two could point Peasemore out. Griff wouldn’t have to make his presence known to the man, at least not until he’d decided if doing so was necessary.
Eyes closed, Ellie slid her bow across the strings of her violin. Pergolesi’s Concerto is B-Flat Major emanated from her instrument, filling the music room, equally matching her gleefulness. She let the music envelop her heart, lifting her further into the clouds. How she loved this song. So light, so happy, so perfect in everyway. Just like her day had been.
Lord Peasemore had smiled and tipped his hat at her. She finally released the sigh she’d held back since that moment in the park. Everything was turning out even more perfectly than she’d planned. Of course, how could she have planned for Griffin Reid? Seeing him had been kismet. Heavens, he’d become so strapping, so handsome…
Ellie’s bow scraped across the strings making a horrible sound echo throughout the room.
“Ack!” Ian, her older brother, complained from the threshold. “Are ye trying to deafen me with that noise?”
Ellie lowered the violin to her side and narrowed her eyes on Ian. “Ye don’t know the first thing about music.”
“Nay, but I know when my ears feel like they’re going to explode.”
Irritating brother. Ellie wasn’t certain, at all, why she put up with Ian…Well, she did need his support as far as her pin money, gowns, ribbons, reticules, bonnets, slippers, and well, everything she wanted.
There was that.
Placation was generally the best way to deal with Ian. “Actually, I am happy to see ye.”
“Why? What do ye want now?” Suspicion clouded his eyes.
“Nothing.” She smiled as she p
laced her violin in the chair beside her.
“Then that would be the first time ever since ye were born.”
“Ye are quite a skeptical Scot, do ye know that?”
A smirk tipped his lips. “Always have to be on my toes with ye, Ellie.”
Well, that was probably true. She could dance circles around him most days, without him ever being the wiser. “Well, my mistrustful lord, all I wanted to say was ye’ll never guess who I saw in the park today.”
“Some fellow whose fortune ye’ve decided to make yer own?”
“Or course.” Ellie giggled. “But that’s not who I meant.”
“Oh? Who then?” Her brother stepped further into the music room, his brow scrunched up a bit. “Beau Brummel or some other self-important Englishman ye hold in high esteem?”
“Griffin Reid,” she replied, loving the look of complete shock on her brother’s face.
“Griffin Reid?” he echoed. At her nod, he said nothing, which wasn’t like Ian at all. An expression she hadn’t ever seen her brother wear before flashed across his countenance. “What did he say?” he finally asked.
Very little, actually. Unless it was about that odd Wilhelmina Throssell, not that Ellie wanted to get into any of that with her brother. Honestly, Ian was behaving just as strangely as Griff had done. Very odd, that. She shrugged and said, “Seems he’s in Town with a friend of his. Someone he served with in the Dragoon Guards. I asked him to come by MacLaren House today. I knew ye’d want to see him.”
But looking at her brother right now, the pinched expression on his face, his fidgeting hands, Ellie wasn’t certain Ian ever wanted to see Griffin again. How very odd. The two of them had been thick as thieves in their younger days.
“That was it? He’s in Town with some friend. He didn’t say anything else?”
What in the world was all of this? Between Griff’s reaction to seeing her and Ian’s reaction to hearing Griff was in Town, something was most definitely not right. “What’s going on, Ian? Ye’re behaving stranger than normal.”
From the threshold, Howard, their butler, cleared his throat. “Captain Reid to see you, milord, milady.”
Ellie was fairly certain she could hear Ian’s teeth grind from where he was standing just a few feet away before he asked, “Where is he, Howard?”
“The yellow salon, milord.”
Ian nodded tightly, then he glanced over at Ellie. “Ye stay here and practice yer noise.”
“Stay here?” she echoed incredulously. Griff had asked for her too. “I am not a dog, Ian MacLaren. And ye’re not going anywhere until ye tell me what this is all about.” Besides, how was she to learn which event Lord Peasemore meant to attend if she didn’t get to see Griff herself?
Anger flashed in her brother’s eyes and Ellie sucked in a breath. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him look so furious, not one time, ever. “I don’t answer to ye, Ellie. It’s about time ye remembered that.” Then he strode from the room without a glance back over his shoulder.
Ian MacLaren, the Earl of Ericht, pinched the bridge of his nose, in a vain attempt to stave off a headache. Griffin Reid. Of all the damned people he never wanted to see again, Griffin Reid was at the very top of that list. A decade spent on the continent, embroiled in one campaign or another, one would think the man wouldn’t have ever made it back to the shores of Britain.
But he had.
And nowhe’d come to claim Ellie and half of Ian’s lands.
Of course, Ian knew this day would eventually come. Or rather he’d feared it would come at some point. There was nothing to do about it, but face Reid head on. Ian took a calming breath, then stepped into his yellow salon.
Griffin Reid – older, larger, more confident than ever – stood in the far corner, his hands clasped behind his back, something akin to a scowl upon his face. “MacLaren,” he grumbled in greeting, just as happy to see Ian as Ian was to see him, apparently.
“Reid,” Ian replied in kind. “Ye look to be in once piece.”
A mirthless laugh escaped his one-time friend. “Despite yer father’s best efforts in regards to the choice of my regiment.”
Father had thought the likelihood of Griffin returning alive would be diminished if he purchased the lad’s colors in the King’s Dragoon Guards. “Ye mean, giving ye the opportunity to make a name for yerself in one of the most elite divisions?”
“It was a death sentence and we both know it.”
Ian couldn’t deny that, but he didn’t want to openly agree and cast a poor light upon his late father either. Besides, it had been his father’s solution to the problem, not Ian’s. He shouldn’t have to answer for it. He folded his arms across his chest, leveling Griffin with his most arrogant glare, the one he’d long ago learned from his father. “Look, Reid, a lot has happened since ye’ve been gone.”
“But I’d imagine quite a bit is the same as it’s always been.”
The derision in Griff’s voice made Ian inwardly wince. Had their positions been switched, he’d probably sound just as self-righteous, he’d probably be filled with just as much anger and hatred. “We were friends once.”
Griff nodded in response. “As were our ancestors before us. And look where that got the Reids.”
So he wasn’t going to be reasonable. Not that Ian was surprised. Still, the interview would go a lot better if they were able to put the past behind them, if they could look forwards rather than back. “I’m not Angus MacLaren, and you’re not Dougal Reid.”
“Nay. I’m not.” Griff unclasped his hands from behind his back. “No one would ever accuse me of being disloyal to the crown, not after the way I’ve defended England over the past decade.”
Something Ian hadn’t done. Not that he hadn’t wanted to when he was younger. He’d begged his father to let him join the Dragoon Guards with Griffin at the time, but that request had been rejected in the same cold, steely way his father went about most things. “And now ye’re here for yer reward. For Ellie and half of my land.”
“Yer land?” Griff snorted. Loudly. “The MacLarens have no rights to those lands.”
Here they went again. The very argument that had first induced his father to send Griffin away all those years ago. “I have a deed that says differently,” Ian replied calmly.
“A deed spun upon MacLaren lies.”
Ian heaved a sigh. “I won’t defend Angus MacLaren’s falsehoods, Griffin. But whether or not he gave his own name or Dougal Reid’s when they captured him at Culloden, Reid land would still have been seized. Dougal was on the losing side.”
“Aye.” Griffin agreed with a nod of his head. “But so was Angus. Had he told the truth, the MacLaren lands would have been seized right along with the Reid lands.”
“And then where would any of us be?” Ian growled. “For seventy years the Reids stayed on that very land thanks to the generosity of my great-grandfather. We all had a place to live, a roof over all of our heads because of that lie.”
“Generosity?” Griffin spat. “Guilt is more fitting, don’t ye think?”
Both were accurate, but Ian didn’t feel inclined to agree with his old friend. And he’d really rather not argue the rest of his life over it either. What was done was done and had been for seventy years. “I’ll pay ye for it. We’ll call it even, how about that?”
Griff blinked at Ian MacLaren. With the blood pounding in his ears, he must not have heard his one-time friend correctly. “Pay me for it?”
Ian shrugged, stepping further into the room and grasping a high-back chair in his hands. “As I said, a lot has changed since ye’ve been gone. We’ll call it recompense for a broken marriage contract. I’ll pay ye for the value of the land and ye can go anywhere ye want, do anything ye want. Ye can start over, start a new Reid legacy somewhere else with the funds.”
Somewhere else? A broken marriage contract? Griff sucked in a surprised breath. Was Ian truly suggesting what Griff thought he was? “The deal yer father made was that I’d join the Dragoon Guard
s, learn to become a man, then I’d get the Reid land back when I married Ellie.”
“Ye don’t want to marry Ellie.” Ian sighed. “Ye can trust me on that.”
An image of Ellie, so damned beautiful in the park that day, flashed in Griff’s mind. Wanting to marry Elspeth MacLaren had never been in his thoughts. He’d known he would marry her. He’d known it for so long that the thought of not marrying her left him feeling slightly empty, which was odd. After all, she’d always driven him half mad. “Ye’re not honoring the bargain that was agreed upon.”
Ian scoffed. “I’m trying to do right by everyone involved, Griff. Ye’re not the sort of man Ellie has her heart set on. And irritating as I find her most of the time, she is my sister and I do want her to be happy. The two of ye together would make each other miserable, especially considering yer hatred for her entire family, both alive and dead.”
He wasn’t the sort of man Ellie had her heart set on? Who did she have her heart set on? That rakish Peasemore fellow? The very thought of that was like a slug to his chest.
If Griff had never entertained the thought of marrying anyone else, why had Ellie been allowed to do so? And then the answer hit him. “She doesn’t know,” he breathed aloud, clenching his hand into a fist.
He knew the instant the words came out of his mouth that he was correct. The sheepish expression on Ian’s face only confirmed his suspicions. It explained why Ellie had introduced him as a friend of the family and not as her fiancé in the park that day. It explained why she was so certain Ian would be happy to see him, she obviously had no idea the two had had a falling out. And it explained why she had no qualms asking Griff to gather information on Peasemore. She didn’t know she was Griffin’s intended. She had no idea.
“Why doesn’t she know?” he asked louder, though a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach answered that question as well. The late Earl of Ericht truly hadn’t expected Griffin to make it back alive. That’s why he selected the King’s Dragoon Guards in the first place. That’s why he never bothered to tell Ellie she was Griffin’s betrothed. One way or another, he’d been determined to keep those lands for the MacLaren earldom, no matter how ill-gotten they were.
An Encounter at Hyde Park Page 19