Gooseflesh rose along Xavier’s arms. Farrin had no way of knowing about Serafine. Xavier had never spoken of his family, because he suspected his enemies would employ the knowledge to torture him.
Farrin’s eyes glittered in the dim carriage, reminding Xavier of a wolf preparing to sink his teeth into his prey. “Haven’t you heard your precious sister has made her home in London? Of course you haven’t. What am I thinking? You’ve kept to yourself these past couple of years.”
Xavier cursed Farrin for the liar he was, but the churning in the pit of his stomach suggested the blackguard was speaking the truth.
“Serafine.” Farrin drew out the name and Xavier’s blood chilled. “Your sister came to London looking for you and instead reunited with her American beau. Even an ocean cannot keep true lovers parted. I am certain your sister and Mr. Tucker missed you at the wedding, but when you retired from Society, you neglected to leave a forwarding address.”
“Go to the devil!”
“I must say, it was a stroke of luck that dear Serafine found Mr. Tucker since she was already carrying his child. Bastards are a messy affair, are they not? By all reports, she birthed a healthy boy. We’ll be at their door any moment, and we can see for ourselves.”
Xavier’s gaze narrowed on the pistol resting in Farrin’s lap. “I will take you to the grave with me before you get anywhere near my sister.”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Vistoire. You can see yourself to the door. My presence is needed elsewhere.”
The carriage stopped and a few moments later, the door swung open. “You have a week to retrieve the map, Mr. Vistoire. Any longer and your sister can expect a caller.”
Xavier’s fists tightened. “I will do what you ask. Just leave Serafine alone.”
“Splendid. We’ve reached an agreement. If you speak to Serafine, Wedmore’s family, or to anyone about your task, know you are placing lives in danger—including your own. The interested party will not stop until the map is delivered to him, and he values discretion above human lives.” Farrin raised the firearm and flicked the barrel toward the open door. “Get the hell out of here before I change my mind about shooting you.”
“Stay away from my sister.” He’d like to cross paths with Farrin when he didn’t have his pistol to protect him. The man was a bloody coward.
As Xavier’s feet hit the ground, he looked up at the modest town house with its lights still aglow. Could it be true? Had his sister come looking for him only to make a life for herself in England?
God, he hoped it was true. At the back of his mind, he’d always harbored the fear some tragedy might have befallen her while he was locked away. Something he could have prevented if he’d not allowed his pride to come between them. But Serafine was here. She was well. And she had a family of her own.
Suddenly, his throat was too tight and an ache radiated in his chest. Serafine was just as proud as he, perhaps even more. Forgiveness did not come easy to her, and no apology could erase his bad deeds.
“Seven days, Mr. Vistoire,” Farrin called from the carriage. “You are wasting time.”
Xavier tossed a glare over his shoulder, then took a deep breath and approached the town house door. The carriage and its squeaky wheel pulled away, leaving Xavier a few seconds to collect himself before the door swung open.
An older woman answered the door. “May I help you, sir?”
“I would like to request an audience with Serafine.”
The housekeeper looked down her nose. “Mrs. Tucker is not in the habit of receiving callers this late, sir. Perhaps you should consider returning at a decent hour dressed in appropriate attire.”
“Mrs. Oats, who is it?” Xavier’s breath caught at the sound of his sister’s voice. “Is everything all right?”
She swept into the foyer, as willowy and regal as he remembered.
“Serafine,” he murmured.
His sister skidded to a stop, her elegant fingers catching her gasp. Her face paled.
“Sera, was that someone at the door?” a man called from the top of the curved staircase—Serafine’s husband. His accent was American without a hint of the lyrical accent of Xavier and Serafine’s people. When his sister didn’t answer, her husband came to investigate. His sensible brown slippers became visible before the rest of him. He leaned down to see halfway in his descent, his blond hair falling forward on his forehead. His gaze shot back and forth between Xavier and Serafine.
“Do you know this man?”
Serafine nodded. Apparently the shock of Xavier’s sudden appearance had rendered her mute.
“Thank you, Mrs. Oats,” Serafine’s husband said as he reached the foyer and crossed to her side. “You may go.”
The housekeeper dawdled as she went, perhaps hoping for answers to her mistress’s strange visitor. When they were alone, her husband slipped his arm around her waist as if she needed help standing and offered Xavier a hesitant smile.
“Darling, are you all right?”
Serafine broke free of her trance. “He is my brother. Xavier, Sweet Mary! You’re alive.”
“Yes, yes, I am.” Xavier rushed forward to meet his sister and envelop her in a hug.
Serafine clung to him, laughing as tears rolled down her cheeks. His own eyes burned with long suppressed emotion. He didn’t think she was ever going to release him, but when she did, he realized he should have held on longer. Sparks ignited in her eyes. He was about to receive the scolding of his life.
She threw her hands in the air. “Where have you been?”
Because he couldn’t think of any excuse to account for his disappearance, he told her the truth—or the parts he could reveal without endangering her.
“The dimwitted British thought I was a spy.”
Nine
Regina hid a yawn behind her fan and hoped the Countess of Norwick didn’t notice and take offense. Alas, her hostess for the evening was a keen observer.
Lady Norwick’s chocolate brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “Tired so soon, Miss Darlington?”
Regina dropped her gaze to the intricate block pattern set in the wood floor as heat washed over her face. If ballrooms incorporated a trap door like theatre stages, she would gladly disappear through it. “My apologies, Lady Norwick. I’m afraid my sleep has been poor lately.”
After Mr. Vistoire’s departure from Wedmore House two nights ago, she’d paced the length of her bedchamber, stopping to look out the window more times than she would ever admit. It wasn’t like her to fret over a gentleman, especially one she barely knew and would never see again.
Still, she’d worried for him. London could be a dangerous place where footpads and murderers prowled for victims, and pedestrians stumbled into the river to drown. Neither fate was one she wished on Mr. Vistoire. Last night, she hadn’t slept much better for thinking about him.
“Hmm,” the countess murmured. “And here I thought fending off advances from that wretched Lord Geoffrey might account for your fatigue.”
Regina’s heart jumped into her throat. Every sidelong glance she’d received that evening took on new meaning.
“I thought the scoundrel might swoon when the footman announced your arrival,” the countess added in a stage whisper.
Regina wet her lips. Perhaps she and her family should leave before the evening turned nasty. “What are the gossips saying?”
“Not a word.” Lady Norwick’s smile vanished; her nostrils flared slightly. “Lord Norwick and I do not abide gossips, and everyone is aware of our position. Unless one wants to be tossed from Norwick Place and excluded from future gatherings, one does not discuss others’ affairs.”
With all of Society clamoring for invitations to the Norwicks’ unorthodox parties, the lady’s threat likely caused many to tremble in fear, which afforded Regina some measure of relief.
“Thank you,” she said with genuine gratitude.
“No thanks are necessary, Miss Darlington. I had my fill of gossips a few years ago, and swore they would n
ever control my life again.” Lady Norwick patted her arm comfortingly. “Only Lord Norwick and I are aware of your run-in, so please don’t fret. Lord Geoffrey pulled my husband aside to request he keep you far away this evening, and the blackguard looked none too pleased when Norwick demanded an explanation. I cannot fathom Lord Geoffrey wants anyone else knowing what transpired. He will keep quiet.”
The mischievous smile the countess was known for played upon her lips. “Did you truly have Lord Geoffrey groveling at your feet? I do hope he wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Is that what he said?”
Lady Norwick nodded.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but he was not groveling. Expanding my knowledge of vulgar language, yes, but no pleading was involved.”
The countess tossed back her head and laughed with abandon. Her laughter was the richest, most genuine, infectious sound Regina had ever heard, and she couldn’t hold in her own soft chuckle.
“Oh, I do like you, Regina Darlington. I think we could become fast friends.”
Regina had no lady companions outside of her sisters and aunt. She’d always seen herself as too different from other ladies to fathom they would want her friendship, so she’d kept to herself. But the countess had something in common with Regina—Lady Norwick was different, too.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Bianca,” a voice called from behind Regina. “That braying laugh of yours carries everywhere.”
Lady Norwick offered a blinding smile for her detractor. “Fiona! How lovely to see you.”
Regina spun around to find three fashionable ladies making their way through the crowd gathered around the ballroom floor chatting while the dancers enjoyed the set. Lady Norwick had designated a set for partnering with widows, matrons, and spinsters only, and the gentlemen were highly encouraged to comply. This was simply more evidence of Lady Norwick’s uniqueness.
The countess took the older woman’s hands in hers and placed kisses on each of her prominent cheeks. “Fiona, I wasn’t certain you would feel up to socializing so soon after arriving home. Did you have a pleasant stay in Vienna?”
Fiona, Lady Banner, returned her sister-in-law’s greeting with affectionate kisses on her cheeks as well, discrediting rumors the two ladies had been enemies at one time.
“Vienna was tolerable,” Lady Banner said. “How is my darling niece? Has she missed her auntie?”
“Not a day has passed without little Fi asking after you. You must call tomorrow. We all missed you.”
The countess welcomed the other two ladies with the same enthusiasm before all four began talking at once. The friends shared a gift for communication that didn’t seem to require anyone to complete a full sentence to be understood. Regina held back, not venturing to join their conversation. She knew the ladies by reputation only, and she didn’t want to appear forward by speaking out of turn.
Lady Norwick glanced in her direction and waved her forward. “Fiona, Amelia, Serafine. Allow me to present Miss Regina Darlington, Lord Wedmore’s eldest niece.”
The ladies regarded her with expectant smiles as the countess completed the introductions. Regina curtsied to Lady Banner then returned Amelia Hillary’s and Serafine Tucker’s smiles with a shy one of her own.
“It is an honor to meet you,” she said.
The ladies reassured her the pleasure was theirs then began asking polite questions about her and her family. Their show of interest made her feel oddly at ease when she typically did not like to talk about herself. Invariably, when she had opened up in the past, ladies would comment on her unique family, and they had a way of making the word sound insulting.
Eventually, Lady Norwick directed the conversation toward a different topic. “Serafine, I thought your brother was accompanying you this evening. I’ve been eager to lay eyes on him ever since your message arrived yesterday.”
The willowy young woman with the dewy skin smiled. “He is here, but he received an invitation to partner for the waltz.” Serafine Tucker had a pleasing airy sound to her voice, like a gentle breeze.
“Brava for the lady in question,” Lady Norwick said. “I admire a woman who pursues what she wants. It sounds like your brother could be in trouble, unless he doesn’t mind being led around by the nose.”
Mrs. Tucker’s striking green gaze briefly met Regina’s before the other woman looked away.
Lady Norwick’s sister-in-law snorted. “Do you have a twin, Bianca?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I remember correctly, not long ago you were the lady pursuing what she wanted. Poor Tubs didn’t know what hit him.”
The countess laughed good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know your brother is perfectly happy being at my beck and call.”
“That he is,” Lady Banner conceded with a satisfied nod.
Mrs. Tucker swept a hand toward the dance floor. “My brother is headed this way” —she nailed Lady Norwick with a pointed glance— “and his partner is simply charming.”
Curious, Regina craned her neck for a glimpse of the woman’s brother and his charming partner. Her eyes locked onto a plume of red and black feathers, much like the ones Aunt Beatrice had been wearing in her headdress when they’d left Wedmore House that evening.
Oh, dear.
Regina’s mouth grew dry. Aunt Beatrice sometimes ignored the fact she was no longer a young lady. Most gentlemen overlooked her harmless flirtations, but the insufferable members of the ton made a joke of her when they thought Regina and her sisters wouldn’t overhear. She felt slightly queasy as it occurred to her that Lady Norwick might be having fun at hers and Aunt Beatrice’s expenses.
Lady Norwick’s face lit with a bright smile as she linked arms with Regina. “Isn’t that your great-aunt, Miss Darlington?”
Regina braced herself for the snide remark she knew was forthcoming.
“Miss Allred is glowing,” Lady Norwick said. “This is exactly what I’d hoped for this evening, a lovely time for all of our guests.”
The lack of guile in the countess’s manner chipped away Regina’s defenses, and she allowed herself to take in the scene. All she could see of Aunt Beatrice’s dance partner was a pair of broad shoulders, but she wasn’t really looking at him anyway. With blue eyes twinkling, Aunt Beatrice turned a slow circle under her partner’s arm and giggled like a debutante.
Regina covered her heart and sighed. She already liked Mrs. Tucker’s brother, for he was allowing Aunt Beatrice to re-experience the joy of her youth. Gratitude welled up inside of Regina.
“Auntie is having the time of her life,” she said.
“Yes.” Mrs. Tucker smiled fondly in the couple’s direction. “Xavier is enjoying himself as well.”
The name hadn’t quite penetrated Regina’s awareness when Aunt Beatrice and her partner turned the corner, allowing Regina her first glimpse of his handsome face.
“Oh, my,” she uttered with a rush of breath.
Aunt Beatrice’s partner was Mr. Vistoire. And he looked positively dashing. Black breeches hugged his slim hips as if they had been tailored for him, and the red and black damask waistcoat was simply exquisite topped with a black jacket.
Blood thrummed through her veins. How was he here? He’d told her that he was sailing to New Orleans without delay to reunite with his sister, and as long as Regina had been out in Society, Serafine Tucker had resided in London.
“How many siblings do you have, Mrs. Tucker? Do you have a sister in New Orleans?”
The woman’s soft smile fell away. “I am surprised you remember where I’m from.”
A prickly heat invaded Regina’s body. “I’ve always had a good memory for details. You arrived in London with your American cousins and your cousin’s husband, Captain Hillary.”
“You do have an excellent memory.” Mrs. Tucker’s smile reappeared. “We have no more family in New Orleans. Xavier and I were our parents’ only children. What about you, Miss Darlington? Is it just you and your two sisters?”
“Yes,
three girls.” Regina narrowed her eyes as she watched Mr. Vistoire guide Aunt Beatrice around the floor. What game was he playing?
“He is enthralling, is he not?” Lady Norwick murmured in her ear. “I can barely look away.”
Regina reluctantly forced her gaze from Mr. Vistoire only to discover the countess wasn’t watching him at all. She was regarding Regina with a slight curve to her ruby lips.
Regina cleared her throat. “I have never seen my aunt on the dance floor. It is a pleasant surprise.”
“Yes, I can see the pleasantness and surprise written all over your face.”
Regina warmed under the countess’s scrutiny, and she flicked her fan to create a breeze as the last of the string quartet’s notes faded on the air.
“Serafine, you must make introductions,” Lady Norwick said. “Would you collect your brother?”
“Of course. I’ll only be a moment.” Mrs. Tucker slipped into the crowd.
Regina would have taken her leave as well, if not for Lady Norwick attached to her side.
“I have already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Vistoire,” Amelia Hillary said, “and I see my husband coming this way to claim the next dance. We will catch up later, dearest.” The petite blond kissed the countess’s cheek before waving to Regina and Lady Banner. “Good evening, ladies.”
Lady Banner came up on Regina’s other side as if she and the countess were colluding to keep her from running away. “It’s a wonder Mr. Hillary allowed his wife from his sight as long as he did,” Lady Banner said.
“Oh?” Regina’s curiosity was piqued despite her wish to escape before Mrs. Tucker returned with Mr. Vistoire. “Is her husband the overbearing type?”
“Jake Hillary is the smitten type,” Lady Norwick said. “I’ve never seen a man more in love with his wife, aside from my own.”
Lady Banner pursed her lips. “I believe we’ve already established you have my brother wrapped around your finger, Bianca, and quite happy to be there. Does he deny you anything?”
Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Gentlemen of Intrigue Book 1) Page 8
