~~~~
"What do you mean, she left London?!"
The bellow came rolling through the foyer and into Lady Brookhampton's parlor like a thunderclap. Nervously, she set down her little telescope — with which she had been perusing de Montforte House across the street, from where the Duke of Blackheath had just stormed — and hurried out to the door where the chalky-faced footman was shrinking from the wrath of that very same duke. Lady Brookhampton paled. Never had she seen Blackheath so furious.
"Your Grace! What a pleasure it is to see —"
He tore off his hat and stalked inside, the walls themselves seeming to shrink in terror of his fury. "You know everything that goes on in this city; where is she? And where's that confounded brother of mine?"
There was no use pretending ignorance; the duke knew she had a telescope, knew she was a valuable font of information. Lady Brookhampton waved the footman off and bravely met Lucien de Montforte's black glare. "He abandoned her for three days, you know. Married her, lost all their money, then dumped her." She cupped a hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, "Is it true that the brat is Charles's?"
"Never mind that, where did they go?"
"Surely, Your Grace, your own staff would be better prepared to answer such a question than I —"
"Where — did — they — go?" he ground out, a blood vessel throbbing in his temple.
"Well! If you must know, I did just happen to see Lord Gareth return this morning, then come back out with that ... that woman. But as to where they were headed, why, that is beyond me, Your Grace." She saw him growing angrier and angrier, and, in an attempt to mollify him, wrung her hands in a pretense of concern. "Oh, Lucien! You know as well as I that your brother will never be able to care for her and that babe! He'll have them sleeping in the street and starving for want of food! He'll have them begging like waifs! You have to find them!"
"Where is Perry?"
"I don't know, I never know where Perry is nowadays, thanks to —"
"And those useless friends of theirs?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't know that, either ..."
The duke swore angrily and strode back out the door, jamming his tricorn on his head as he went. His face was thunderous. His grip on his riding crop was savage. He swung up on that vicious black beast he called a horse and, without a backward look, went galloping off down the street.
Her knees shaking, Lady Brookhampton released her pent up breath, leaned back against the wall, and dabbed at her forehead. For the first time in all these years, she actually pitied the Wild One.
God only knew what the duke would do to his errant brother when he found him.
The Wild One Page 52
