by Rose Gordon
Madison did understand rejection, better than most it would seem. She had fancied herself in love with Robbie Swift, a local banker’s son, since she was thirteen. When Madison came of age she did everything she could to get his attention, then one day he started courting her. They courted for an unusually long time—five years. The promise of a proposal always seemed to hang in the air, but nothing more than a promise. However, it seemed to be enough for Madison not to look elsewhere. In the end, he decided Madison wasn’t up to his high standards for a wife and he cast her aside for Laura Small, who he married after only courting her for a matter of days. This hurt Madison deeply and she felt rejected, but it actually was for the best and Madison knew it. However, Brooke wasn’t going to be mean and point it out.
“I have an idea,” Madison burst out excitedly, bringing Brooke back to the present where she belonged. “Your ship doesn’t board until three tomorrow afternoon. That means we still have some time in London together. Why don’t we do something fun together in the morning?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” Madison admitted. “What’s something you wanted to do while we were here that we never did?”
Brooke had to think about that. They’d gone to balls, musicales, soirees, breakfasts, operas, plays, and even the British Museum of Natural History. It seemed they'd done everything already. Then an idea struck her and she couldn’t suppress the burble of laughter that passed through her lips. “You cannot laugh,” she told her sister, who looked at her like she wanted to point out that Brooke was the already laughing, but she didn’t say a word. “I should like to go to Covent Garden and see the street performers.”
Madison tried to keep a straight face. Brooke could see she was trying to restrain herself from laughing, but in the end she couldn’t hold it and she let out a tiny giggle. “Very well then, if you want vendors to hassle you to buy their vegetables while you’re trying to strain your neck to watch a man on stilts juggle six knives during your last day in London, then I shall be right there with you.”
Chapter 29
Andrew’s past few days had not been any better than Brooke’s. He’d left Rockhurst and rode his horse as fast as he could to the Watson estate.
He looked around the estate and saw no sign of Gateway’s carriage, and his heart sank. He wondered if she went straight to London instead of coming here first, but he needed to be sure of that before he left.
He gave his horse over to a groom and headed for the house. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be well received when he arrived. But he had no choice. He had to find out if she was in there and explain everything to her.
Before he even reached the house he encountered Alex. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon, old chap,” Alex said, clapping him on the back.
“I didn’t expect to be back here so soon, to tell the truth,” Andrew replied solemnly. Judging by Alex’s tone and manner, he guessed his friend knew nothing and didn’t even suspect anything was amiss. Did that mean she hadn’t come here? Or did it mean that in typical Alex fashion, he was out to sea on the whole situation?
Quickly concluding that he'd have to seek out another source to question about Brooke’s whereabouts, he made his excuses and went in search of someone who would know where Brooke was.
He walked about the house and went to find the chamber Brooke had occupied during her stay. When he got there, he knocked on the door and waited for an answer. None came. Looking both ways first, he opened the door. He stepped in and quickly looked around, only to find for the second time today an empty room.
He left her room and decided his best course of action would be to hunt down her father. When he found Mr. Banks, he was in the baron’s study speaking with his brother. It was rude to interrupt, but he did it anyway.
John turned a stiff smile to him and invited him to sit down. Andrew took a seat and inquired about Brooke’s whereabouts. “Lost your wife, have you?” Watson asked jovially.
Andrew nodded and waited for John to tell him something useful.
John didn’t speak right away. He just sat there looking at Andrew as if he were enjoying the sight of his distress.
“To be honest, I have no idea what’s going on, nor do I know her whereabouts,” John said at last. “But, if you would like to wait here with my brother—” he shot a glance to Watson, who nodded in return— “I would be happy to go speak to her sisters and see what I can find out.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said stiffly. He would have rather been the one to go track down Brooke’s sisters and find out where she was. Reluctantly, he agreed to wait while John talked to his own daughters. They were more likely to tell their father Brooke’s whereabouts than him anyway.
Andrew and the baron didn’t have much to say to each other. They just stared at each other for a few minutes then looked around the room. Every so often they’d have a couple words about who was hosting a hunt this fall or other such nonsense. Andrew resisted the urge to look around at the clock several times. It felt like time was crawling by, but he convinced himself it was only his imagination.
He put his elbows on his knees and leaned his head down, cradling it with his hands. He threaded his fingers through his hair. All he could do was sit and wait.
Keeping the same position, he studied the floor. The patterns made from the lines in the wood were not so interesting, but at least it kept his mind off the time. His gut was in knots from anticipation when the door finally opened.
His head shot up and disappointment washed over him when he looked up to see it was just the butler.
“Dinner is served, my lord,” the butler told Watson.
At those words, Andrew twisted his neck around to see the clock that hung right behind where he was sitting. “You tricked me!” he burst out at Watson.
“I did no such thing,” Watson countered, his lips twitching. “My brother did. He thought you’d come here before going to London. While he and I were talking, a carriage was being loaded. Sorry, but they left—” he looked at his watch— “more than three hours now. I’m actually surprised you lasted so long.”
Fighting the impulse to strangle Watson, Andrew dashed out of the room. He was trying to be polite not checking the time, convincing himself it was just his imagination, and all the while he was being made a fool.
He rode as fast as he could to get to London, but didn’t make it fast enough for it to be an acceptable hour to make calls. He considered doing it anyway, then dismissed the idea because he didn’t want to cause more trouble by going over there so late, even if it was his right as a husband to collect his wayward bride.
The next morning he left his house at noon and arrived at the Watson townhouse in less than twenty minutes. He knocked on the door and demanded the butler allow him to see his wife. Turner, not the most professional butler in England, gasped at the idea of a countess in residence. Then he gathered his wits the best he could, told Andrew the Bankses were not home, and extended a hand to take Andrew’s card.
Andrew wasn’t about to be deterred. “I know the way,” he told the butler tersely, leaving Turner in the entryway with his mouth agape.
He’d only walked about three steps when Mrs. Banks appeared. “Out!” she ordered, making a rigid shooing motion toward the door.
“I have come to collect my wife,” Andrew said, hoping it sounded nicer to her than it did to him.
Mrs. Banks eyed him skeptically and looked like she wanted to blister his ears. “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” she said coolly.
Andrew shot her an icy glare. “If you think I’m going to fall for that again, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
Mrs. Banks looked at him with a confused look on her face but didn’t ask him anything. “Young man, you may be a peer of the realm and, as much as it pains me to say it, my daughter’s husband, but you are still a guest in this house and will act accordingly or be removed,” she scolded.
“Fine,” he ground out. Then he stood and
watched her leave.
In no time at all, two pair of footsteps could be heard coming in his direction and his heart almost burst out of his chest knowing she was going to speak to him. But when those feet rounded the corner, Andrew’s heart nearly stopped. The owner of the pair that didn’t belong to Mrs. Banks wasn’t Brooke like he expected, but Mr. Banks.
The following conversation was very one-sided in which Mr. Banks told Andrew in no uncertain terms he was not allowed back in their house or anywhere near it. Mr. Banks took a minute to recount Andrew’s many sins involving Brooke and told Andrew it would take his witnessing a miracle before Andrew would be allowed to speak to Brooke again. Quite simply, he was being permanently dismissed.
The next two days had been just as fruitless. Both days, he’d knocked on the door to Brooke’s townhouse. Both times, he was denied entry. After each time, he sat on a bench across the street holding up a newspaper and waited for her to come out so he could speak to her. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.
At the end of the second day, he decided he would try this method one more time. After that, he’d make sure to get his way inside. If not the traditional way by using the front door like they do in a normal, civilized society, then he’d scale the wall and go in through the window the next night.
The only problem was he had no idea which window was Brooke’s and wasn’t keen on the idea of entering the wrong room. It would not do for him to creep into John and Carolina’s bedchamber, or even worse, Liberty’s. He would just deal with whatever happened when the time came. He couldn’t stand to go any longer without talking to her.
He rose from his chair and walked to his bedroom, resigned to spend another sleepless night lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking of how much he missed his wife. He’d hardly slept in the past few nights. Tonight would be no different.
Just when he’d finally passed out from sheer exhaustion that night, there was a knock on his door. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away, like he'd hoped; instead, the knock just got louder and more adamant.
Andrew crawled out of bed and threw on his dressing robe to cover his naked body before yanking open the door.
“Yes,” he barked irritably at a very tired Addams who wore a slightly askew night cap, but otherwise resembled his usual stiff-rumped, butlering footman.
“My lord, you have a guest,” Addams told him.
“A guest?” Andrew repeated. He wasn’t expecting any guests. The only person who ever came to see him was Alex. It wasn’t likely Alex would come this time of night. Why would he? Unless he’d found out about what happened with Brooke and was coming to rescind his offer for a loan. Andrew hoped that wasn’t the case. He had run into Alex earlier in the evening and explained his situation with the mines, and even though it killed his pride to do so, he asked his friend for a loan. Alex was in an excellent mood and readily agreed. Maybe now that he’d had time to think about it he’d changed his mind. Andrew groaned. “Is it Alex?”
“No, my lord,” Addams said, turning a little pink. “Your guest is a not a man.”
Andrew’s heart skipped a beat. “Is it Lady Townson?” he asked hoarsely, not remembering that Addams had never seen Brooke before.
“I do not believe so, my lord. Though your guest is female, I do not believe she is a lady. She is more of the hooded female variety,” Addams said with a slight cough.
Andrew gave a sour look. “Tell her I have a wife and send her away. I’m not in the mood to deal with this now.”
“I tried, my lord. But she is most persistent. She said it is most urgent she speak to you immediately. She is waiting in your study.”
Andrew glanced longingly at the bed but walked to the door. He didn’t bother to dress. There was no need. He was going to go speak to a woman of ill repute. She was used to men in their dressing robes, and less.
His study was almost completely dark. Only one candle in the middle of his desk was lit. “Hello,” he hollered, hoping the woman had already left. When he heard a delicate cough from the shadows, he stopped walking. He couldn’t see anyone and his hands flew to the sash around his robe to make sure it was tight. There wasn’t anything he could do about the middle of his chest showing where the robe came together, nor could he help that his legs below the knee were exposed, but he could do his best to cover up the rest from this mystery woman’s gaze. He was now wishing he had bothered to dress. It felt awkward to be almost naked in front of another woman after he’d been intimate with Brooke. Nor did he want this woman to take his state of undress as an invitation. “Madam, I have no need for your favors. If you would be so kind as to remove yourself from my study so I can return to bed, I would be most appreciative,” he said icily.
“I object. I think you're in need of my favors,” a female voice whispered.
“I assure you, I do not.” Andrew said, stepping closer to the shadows to determine who this woman was. It was hard to recognize voices when they were whispering but he knew when she first spoke that she wasn’t Brooke.
“Do not come any closer or I will not help you,” the voice hissed.
Andrew thought he heard a hint of panic in her voice and he stopped walking.
“Step back, please,” she whispered again.
With an irritated sigh, Andrew stepped back and sat in his chair.
“I have some information about your wife, Lady Townson,” she whispered at last. “She is leaving for America tomorrow.”
Andrew’s throat convulsed. Was she telling him this to torture him or spur him into action? His throat was too thick to push words out, and he made some sort of grunt that the woman must have taken as a response.
“I may have heard she and her sister are going on an outing tomorrow morning if you’d like to catch her.”
“Catch her?” he choked. Had people taken notice of him sitting on the bench across the street from her house? “Where are they going?” he asked when she didn’t elaborate.
“Covent Garden, I believe. Lady Townson and Miss Madison were heard speaking of it to Mr. and Mrs. Banks. I do not know the time.”
“Will the whole Banks family be present?” he asked, hoping she’d say no.
“No.”
“Just Brooke and Madison, no maids or anyone else?” he asked skeptically.
“Correct.”
The pressure lifted off his heart. Madison wasn’t a bad sort at all. In fact, she probably wouldn’t try to stop him from speaking to Brooke. Rising from his seat, he kept his gaze fixed on the dark corner she was in. “Thank you for the information, miss. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”
“Yes, there is one thing.”
“What?”
“Dismiss your mistress.”
Andrew’s jaw dropped. Where had that come from? “Excuse me. If I had realized that would be your price for this information, I might have taken my chances sitting on the bench,” he said irritably.
“I’m not vying for the job, I am quite satisfied with my position,” she whispered, sounding annoyed. “I just think Lady Townson deserves to have you—all of you. That is if she decides to take you back.”
Andrew nodded. This was obviously a woman who cared a great deal for Brooke, and she was only looking out for her happiness. Realizing this, he said, “I do not make a habit of talking about my personal life, but, I do not now, nor do I plan to, have a mistress. Ever.”
“Excellent choice,” she whispered.
Andrew took that as a dismissal and started to go. But when he reached the doorframe, he turned around. He’d reached the conclusion this was a servant from the Watson townhouse. Servants always knew everything. He didn’t know why she would want to help him and he wasn’t going to question it. She'd offered him invaluable information; he needed to repay her in some way. “Your information has been invaluable to me, I thank you very much. If you ever need anything in the future, please do not hesitate to come to me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered softly.
&nbs
p; He walked back up to his room and went to the window. He watched the cloaked woman climb into a hired hack and drive away before going back to his study where he stayed until morning.
Andrew decided his best tactic would be to accost Brooke at the main entrance. There was still a chance of missing her, but he had a better chance of being allowed to speak to her if he waited for her there rather than outside her residence.
He waited at the entrance all morning. He sat. He stood. He paced. He leaned on a post. All the while tramping down his nerves and thinking of what he would say to her when she finally came.
He started to fear he’d missed her and would have to go in search of her. He took out his pocket watch once again and frowned. With a snap, he closed his watch, pushed off the post he was leaning against, and looked up. That’s when he saw her and his heart raced like a horse at Ascot.
Chapter 30
Brooke tried to put on a happy face, but her smile just wouldn’t stick. Madison only wanted to spend time with her before she set sail for New York, she reminded herself every time she opened her mouth to suggest they go back. Unfortunately, her tangled mess of emotions regarding Andrew got in the way of her enjoying their day together.
Madison had convinced her to go to Andrew’s townhouse, demand an explanation, and see if they could work it out. But when they arrived, the snobbish man who answered the door informed them stiffly that ladies do not call on gentlemen under any circumstances, besides which, his lordship was not in.
Willing herself not to lose her composure, Brooke smiled and walked away. She decided to continue with their original plan and go to the garden to be harassed by vendors and watch men on stilts juggle dangerous objects.
They were just about to the entrance when Madison stopped walking and looked straight ahead. Brooke followed her gaze. Next to the entrance, leaning on a post and looking at his pocket watch, stood Andrew.
Now that the moment had arrived, she briefly entertained the idea of running away. However, that idea was soon dismissed when Madison softly touched her elbow. “You wanted to know. Now is your chance.”
