“We would gratefully welcome the help.”
~ ~ ~
HIS EYES STRAINED and his hands ached from decoding messages from the Peninsula, but Haverstock still managed a fleeting rush of pride. The information he received from Monsieur Herbert had contributed to the French defeat at Salamanca. Haverstock had been very careful to personally dispatch the information himself to keep it from others in the London office.
This afternoon he would meet Pierre at their new meeting place. Poor Pierre suffered under the delusion that France would once again be what it was before the revolution. Before Pierre’s wife and children had been slaughtered. To this end, he risked his life countless times on clandestine missions to France in the cause of Britannia. Because he still had friends in positions of importance, Pierre had been able to provide Haverstock with invaluable information. All for a few guineas and the satisfaction of knowing he hastened bringing peace to his native soil.
Haverstock, too, would do anything in his power to bring this devastating war to an end. For his own self, it could not be too soon to get his brother back in England. Every time he heard of casualties in the Light, his stomach did an odd flip, and he worried about James. God, but it would be good to see his little brother again.
He wondered what James would think of Anna. Of course, being a connoisseur of beauty, he would love her. And how would she feel toward him? Would she kiss him and flirt with him? He did not like to think of it.
At least she had not flirted with that insufferable Harry Churchdowne last night. How Haverstock longed to get in the ring with him at Jackson’s. The man did not even have the decency to avert his gaze from Anna all night. Morgie had told Haverstock that Churchdowne had the audacity to ask Anna to ride with him in the park.
Now that he was thinking on it, Haverstock was not as receptive to her riding with Morgie as he once had been. And he really didn’t like the idea of her kissing Morgie, either. Morgie was one of the juiciest prizes on the marriage mart. He was tolerably good looking, extremely well dressed, fun to be with and in possession of a vast fortune. Then, Haverstock remembered Anna knew Morgie before she knew him. And it was not Morgie she desired as a husband. She desired him. She had not sought to be his wife for love. Quite the opposite, he painfully reminded himself.
His breath caught. Did she still hate him? Had she feigned concern for him only to secretly go about wreaking havoc on his life? He thought back to all the times she had seemed so genuinely concerned over him. Especially two nights ago. He could still see her ashen face as she opened her chamber door and thanked God he was all right. He could almost feel her trembling beneath him as she gave him the greatest sexual pleasure he had ever experienced.
Was all that an act to conceal her lewd ways? She had willingly gone alone to Lord Wentworth’s library with Sir Henry Vinson. She had gone alone to the stables where she had been rather intimate with Jimmy. And she and Jimmy had obviously gone off together in a rented hack. Why would the Marchioness of Haverstock, who had half a dozen conveyances at her disposal, rent a cab unless she was concealing her destination?
He put his head in his hands. He was better off before his marriage. He might not have been happy then, but he certainly was not happy now. That cursed wife of his was a constant source of consternation. Why just this morning he had to fight against his urge to check on Anna. When she did not show up for their morning ride he remembered she had not felt well the night before. Throughout the entire ride he worried foolishly about her.
That was the problem with a wife. Good or bad, they belonged to you. You had to take care of them. To care for them. And despite all the reasons why he should not care for Anna, he still cared for her and wanted to protect her. For her, he had said terrible things to his own mother.
Would that he had never laid eyes on Anna.
~ ~ ~
“REALLY, LYDIA, your brother would be shocked if he knew you discussed such things with a man,” Anna chided as they rode through Hyde Park in Morgie’s curricle that afternoon. Lydia and Morgie had made a wager concerning the probability that Lady Rand, who was very much married, would meet with John Hancombe, her lover, in the park that afternoon.
“Morgie doesn’t count as a man,” Lydia said.
“Don’t know that I like your line of reasoning, Lyddie,” Morgie said.
A broad smile crossed Lydia’s plain face. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. What I meant is that you’re like a brother, not a man with whom I have to act properly.”
“Nice to know ladies don’t have to act properly when I’m around,” Morgie said mischievously.
“The fact is,” Lydia continued, unflapped by his remark, “you’re better than a brother. Charles has been an absolute ogre lately.”
“I will accept that as a compliment, even if it is at the expense of my best friend.”
“You must allow, Lydia,” Anna said, “Charles is very tolerant of your wagering on horses even though it is not a ladylike pursuit.”
“As well he should, since he led her down that unladylike road himself!” Morgie defended, nodding to an acquaintance who passed by.
“I have no complaint in Charles’s treatment of me,” Lydia said. “I could hope for him to be more amiable at home and to not stay away so much. When he’s home, he’s cross and tired and acts as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.”
“That he does,” Anna lamented.
With smiling faces and a profusion of waves, they drove past Cynthia and Captain Smythe. When Captain Symthe’s phaeton was well past them, Lydia turned to Morgie. “Has the expected union between my sister and Captain Smythe made it into the betting book at White’s yet?”
“Indeed it has,” he said, calmly reining in.
“Oh, please enter a wager for me, Morgie,” Lydia said.
“’Pon my word, Lyddie, even your brother would draw the line at that.”
She pouted. “But I know, as a gentleman, you will not disappoint me, Morgie.”
“Very well, Lyddie. What bet do you wish me to place?”
“That Captain Smythe will make his offer by the end of the fortnight.”
“It would not surprise me if Mr. Reeves did not offer for Kate by that time also,” Anna said.
“Now I draw the line at betting for a marchioness,” Morgie said. “Haverstock wouldn’t like that one bit.”
“I assure you, Morgie, I have no desire to wager.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “I cannot like that match one bit. Kate positively detested the man two seasons ago, and now because she believes he will be duke, she welcomes his address with enthusiasm. It would serve her right if old Blassingame took a young wife and sired sons.”
Anna refrained from commenting, though her thoughts matched Lydia’s.
“Morgie,” Lydia exclaimed, “you’ll never guess where Anna and I were this afternoon.”
“Let me think. Was it Bedlam?”
“No!” Lydia said with feigned irritation.
“Am I to enumerate all the sites in London, or do you enlighten me?”
“I shall enlighten. We went to Anna’s sewing school in the East End.”
“In the East End?” he queried, his gaze leaping to Lydia.
She nodded.
“On what street, pray tell?”
“Oh, a most unfashionable street, to be sure,” Lydia answered.
“Whatever are you talking about? A sewing school?”
“Yes. Anna has founded a school to teach sewing skills to the unfortunate so that they can seek employment. She and her maid give instruction there every afternoon. They allowed me to come today, and I enjoyed it excessively. I found that I was able to make a small contribution, and it was most rewarding.”
He pulled rein and shifted his gaze to Anna. “What does Haverstock have to say about this?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“She’s not hiding it from him,” Lydia added.
“Oh, no,” Anna said. “I would tell h
im all about it if he were interested. It’s just that we are seldom alone together to share a conversation.”
“Well, I can tell you he would not at all countenance you two going to that part of town unescorted.”
“Oh, but my groom comes along to keep a watch out for our safety.”
He frowned. “I can’t say that I like it—nor would Haverstock.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “Well, we are not going to stop!”
“Then, I’ll have to accompany you.”
As they left the park, Lydia spotted Lady Rand’s carriage heading down a little used path. And behind her, John Hancombe followed in his gig. “You owe me a crown,” Lydia happily announced to Morgie.
~ ~ ~
JIMMY STOOD POST outside the Whitehall building that lodged the Foreign Office. Day after day he had stood in watch for his master, but his lordship never left the building before dusk. On this day, however, Jimmy’s heart quickened in anticipation when he saw his master skip down the marble steps just before two in the afternoon. He watched as Haverstock waited for his gig to be brought around, then Jimmy mounted his own horse and began to follow.
A hackney coach rounded the corner, cramming between Jimmy and the gig to obstruct his view of Haverstock. With a spurt of speed, Jimmy passed the coach just in time to see Haverstock turn onto Charing Cross. Holding back fifty yards, Jimmy also veered onto the busy Charing Cross, and within minutes followed his master when he turned onto The Strand, which was thick with pedestrians and every sort of conveyance. Before long, Haverstock pulled up in front of St. Clement Danes Church.
Unconsciously reciting a snatch of the nursery rhyme Oranges Lemons say the bells of St. Clemens, Jimmy watched as Haverstock tied up his gig and entered the church. Jimmy tied his horse around the corner and went back to the church’s entrance, where he gently eased open one of its massive doors and slipped into the vestibule. Walking like a cat on soft paws, he edged toward the front of the vestibule and saw Haverstock sitting in a pew at the front of the darkened church where he was the only occupant.
A moment later, Jimmy heard the door squeak open and he darted into the shadows. A short, swarthy looking man who dressed like a gentleman strode down the center aisle of the church and sat next to Haverstock. They talked for a few minutes.
While they were talking, Jimmy quietly slipped from the church. He saw a black gelding tied up next to Haverstock’s rig. Rounding the corner, he untied and mounted his horse and waited for the swarthy man to mount the black gelding.
A few minutes later, the man came out of the church and took off on the black horse, with Jimmy following at a discreet distance. The man rode to Billingsgate where he purchased fish. From there he rode through the bustling city, avoiding as many toll gates as he could, much to Jimmy’s satisfaction.
After an hour, the man left his mount at a livery stable near Russell Square. Jimmy held back and watched as the man walked from the stable to a slender house in Bloomsbury. Number twenty-three.
SEVENTEEN
AFTER ANNA AND CHARLOTTE had walked through Green Park, Jimmy awaited at the foot of the steps to Haverstock House, begging a private word with Anna.
She watched Charlotte mount the steps before turning her attention to Jimmy. “Is his lordship all right?”
“Yes, me lady,” he answered. “It is just that I followed him from that building in Whitehall, and he met with a man under what seems to me very suspicious circumstances.”
Anna walked some distance away from the footmen, Jimmy at her side.
Jimmy told Anna of the secretive meeting at St. Clements and proudly announced that he followed the man to his lodgings at Number twenty-three Tavistock Place in Bloomsbury.
“What did the man look like?” Anna asked.
“’Bout forty years old. He was of dark complexion and medium size. Dressed like a gentleman but was not flush with money, if ye know what I mean. Made a big effort to avoid paying tolls.”
Anna nodded and thanked Jimmy before returning to the house. She would finally have something to report to Sir Henry when she met with him the following day.
~ ~ ~
INSTEAD OF COMING straight home that night, Haverstock chose to go to White’s where he had the good fortune to meet Morgie.
The two men sat alone at a table and proceeded to consume a large quantity of port. Haverstock kept a watch over Harry Churchdowne, who sat with a group of young bloods on the other side of the room. “You would think with as many women who set their caps at him, the insufferable man would not have to dance attendance on married women,” Haverstock said.
“What if the lady’s husband has no desire for her company?” Morgie challenged.
Haverstock met his friend’s quizzing gaze. “You have it all wrong, my dear fellow. I have a very great desire for my wife’s company even if she vexes me to death.”
“Strange way you have of showing it.”
“I get so blasted angry with her. Do you know what she has done now?”
“Enlighten me.”
“She and that maid of hers have been going off with that same old groom in a rented hack! I ask you, why would the Marchioness of Haverstock be renting a hack if she didn’t have something to hide?”
“Have you asked her?”
“Course not. Can’t let her think I’ve been spying on her.”
“Nor can you let her know you care. Heaven forbid a man should care about his wife.”
“Now, Morgie, blast it all! You make me sound like the one who needs to apologize.”
“I believe you are, old chap. I do, in fact, know why your wife rented a hack, and I assure you it was all perfectly innocent.”
“Enlighten me, if you please.”
Morgie shook his head. “I believe you and her ladyship need to talk. Ask her yourself.”
Haverstock stiffened as he saw Churchdowne rise and walk toward him. “I will bloody well strike a blow to the man if he tells me one more time how fortunate I am to have wed Anna before the ton discovered her,” he whispered to Morgie.
“Fancy finding you here, Haverstock, when I saw your wife not half an hour ago.”
Haverstock raised a single brow.
“Yes, I had the good fortune to speak with Lady Haverstock at the entrance to Green Park. She was quite alone though she insisted she was meeting Lady Charlotte there. A pity. Were such a beautiful woman my wife, I would never let her out of my sight.”
“I suppose you offered your services as her escort,” Haverstock said.
“Yes, indeed, but she refused me again. You may be assured when the novelty of her marriage wears off, I will be first in line for her favors, Haverstock.”
Haverstock leapt to his feet and crashed his fist into the smaller man’s jaw, knocking Churchdowne to the floor. He was ready to assault the man again when Morgie restrained him and led him from the club.
~ ~ ~
WHEN HAVERSTOCK ARRIVED HOME, he found Mr. Reeves waiting for him.
“Ah, my lord, I beg a private word with you.”
Haverstock, knowing very well what Reeves had come for, led the man to his library and offered him a chair near his desk. The man was a good ten years his senior, and Haverstock did not at all warm to the idea of having him for a brother-in-law. Especially since Kate herself had spurned him two seasons previously. He ran his eyes over Reeves. Though Haverstock was certainly no judge of what was considered handsome, he knew that no maiden could be attracted to this man who sat nervously before him. A circle of fat hung under his chin and on his waist, where one of the buttons of his waistcoat popped open. His coat, too, was much too tight. Had he gained so much weight of late or did he insist he was the same size he was decade earlier?
“You may have noticed my partiality toward Lady Kate,” Reeves began.
Haverstock nodded.
“I have come to ask your permission to pay her my addresses.”
“Have you spoken with her yet?”
“No, my lord, though I dar
esay she is aware of the constancy of my affection. I felt it proper to speak to you first. I am not a wealthy man, but I have grand prospects since I am the heir to my uncle, the Duke of Blassingame.”
Was that all the poor man had to recommend him? “You most certainly have my permission to court Kate, but I cannot speak for her. If she welcomes your suit, you have my blessing.”
A smile crossed Reeve’s perspiring face.
“Glass of port?”
Reeves thankfully accepted.
~ ~ ~
WHEN REEVES LEFT, Haverstock hastened up the stairs and knocked on the door to Anna’s chamber.
Her sore feet soaking in a pail of hot water when her husband entered her room, Anna looked up and smiled at him.
“I see your feet are no better than they were on the way home last night,” he said.
“Oh, they do not hurt nearly as much,” she said, removing them from the water and toweling them dry as she dismissed Colette.
“Did you speak with Mr. Reeves?” She walked barefoot to the settee and beckoned for him to join her.
“Did everyone in the house know of his call?”
“Of course.”
“And, pray tell, what was my answer to be?”
“Kate said you would be delighted to have her a future duchess.”
“And you?” he asked.
“I said you would tell the man you would abide by your sister’s choice.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “It seems my wife knows me better than my sister.”
“I do not think she will be happy with the man, Charles.”
“Nor do I, but it is a scheme of her own making.”
She smelled the liquor on him, and knew it had loosened the rigidness that so often kept him from her. “Did you go to White’s?”
“Yes. I met Morgie there.”
“You seem more relaxed. While other wives complain about their husbands frequenting their clubs, I must welcome it if it brings you more often in my company.”
He seemed unable to remove his eyes from her. “Where did you go in a hackney carriage?”
“How did you know about that?” she asked.
Scandalous Brides Page 36
