The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (46 page)

“Hmmm...” He puts
his arms loosely around her waist and pulled her back to lean against
him. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“What are you doing?”
Oh lord, she didn’t think she had the strength to resist him this
time. Each kiss, each touch made her will weaker.

“I mustn’t be doing
it well if you have to ask!” Laughter laced his facetious comment.

“But...”

“I think that must be
your favorite word, ‘but’.” His hand played with the bow that
held her collar closed.

“We can’t do this,
especially not now!”

“Why “especially”
not now?” He continued his exploration of her gown and how it was
fastened.

“Because my
grandmother could show up at any moment.”

“And she would be
shocked to find her married grandchild kissing her husband?” he
mocked.

It did sound flimsy
when put like that, but what other defense did she have? Where was
Foster when she needed him! “I told you. She doesn’t know we are
married.”

“And when are you
planning on telling her?” His index finger circled her ear, causing
her to shiver. “I thought you might like to know that I stopped
taking the nightly laudanum you’ve been giving me a few days ago.”

“I see. Why didn’t
you tell me sooner?” Just as they feared. The timing couldn’t
have been worse! Just when she needed him sedated and sleepy so he
would stay away from her grandmother! At least he was still receiving
the daytime dose. That should help him rest and keep him dull enough
not to notice how strange their circumstances were. And out of
Grandma Eva’s way!

“And I’ve stopped
the second dose too, now that I’ve realized how it was being
administered.”

“Oh.”

He took in her dismay
silently. “If you were hoping to weaken me, stunt my will to live,
you haven’t succeeded.”

Her head jerked up,
shocked by his accusation. She hopped off his lap, standing there
wanting to stay yet needing to escape. “I never wanted that!”

“Then what did you
want?”

“I... You have no
memory of who you are. We have no …” she stopped before she said
the wrong thing. “Dr. Graham said you needed to rest a great deal
in order to recover it.”

He shook his head.

He didn’t believe
her! She couldn’t live this lie anymore! “I needed to know
why...”

When he reached for
her, she fled across the room away from him, heading for the door.
She knew she wasn’t making much sense.

“Why what?”

“Why you climbed into
my bedroom window!” She looked over her shoulder in a hunted
manner. She unlocked the door and opened it. Just before she ran off
she added, “Was it to kill me?”

* * *

“Missy.”

“Yes, Foster.”

“There are two
callers in the drawing room that I think you should see.”

Something about these
visitors had unsettled her butler. Rather than send Joseph, he’d
come up himself to tell her. And he was looking uneasy. She joined
him to go downstairs.

“Not Grandma Lawton
or any of her entourage, I hope?” That would explain his unusual
caution.

“No! I’d have
warned you!” Lowering his voice he said, “These aren’t yer
normal callers, Missy.” He handed her their cards. “They could be
trouble.”

Trouble?
“Where is Mr. Mason? Will we need him?” She was still shaken from
her... encounter… with Reed.

“Heh...heh... When I
told him about your grandmother moving in, Mr. Mason said not to
expect him until late tonight. I don’t think we’re going to have
to warn him to avoid Lady Lawton. He’s already doing it!” He came
closer to lower his voice. “I didn’t mean that kind of trouble.”

“Then what kind of
trouble could they be?”

“It’s just...
There’s something mighty familiar about them.” He seemed
reluctant to say more.

She glanced at their
cards. “Charles (“Chase”) Eames. And this one says, Francis
Eames.” She stared at the cards as if they could tell her more
about who her visitors were. She’d never heard the name. “Brothers?
Do we know anyone of that name?”

“No.” He squinted
his eyes. “But I still say they’re going to be trouble.”

As she moved toward the
drawing room door, he said in a gruff whisper, “Them’s gentlemen,
Miss Tally.” His hushed tone warned her to be careful.

She entered the room to
find two tall men, standing with their backs to her, gazing out the
window.

She admired their
equally square shoulders, which owed nothing to padding, she was
convinced. Her fingers itched to grab a piece of charcoal and sketch
the two from behind. They already looked like brothers just from
their physiques and stances. Indeed, they resembled Reed from behind.

They turned to greet
her and all notions of sketching them scattered.

Could
be trouble! Something familiar! Foster had vastly understated the
matter. These men resembled Reed more from the front! They were
relatives — close relatives — of his, that much was obvious! One
of them was easily his twin, except for the eyes. This one’s were
golden brown! The other one, though he looked less like Reed, had the
same sea-colored eyes and both had his dimples.

Oh my god, what was she
going to do? She couldn’t tell them about Reed being here. Not when
he had no memory and thought he was married to her. He’d probably
introduce her as his wife! She felt she’d just entered a horrific
dream from which she wasn’t sure she would ever awake.

“Good afternoon.”
Catching her breath to calm herself, she advanced into the room.
“Won’t you sit down.” They seemed about to refuse, so she gave
them one of her rare smiles and said, “I’m rather short and when
I look up at tall people, it makes my neck ache.”

One chuckled, the other
gave a little grin, but they both obliged by sitting on the settee
facing her, one beside the other. She’d chosen the armchair for
herself, hoping for that very outcome. She wanted to observe both
their reactions, at the same time. One talent she had acquired as a
painter was knowing where to place subjects.

What
if Reed came in while they were here?
She wished that
dreadful notion hadn’t occurred to her. The whole debacle her life
had become was poised to blow up in her face. He’d told Foster he
was going to walk to the market with Mrs. P and Joseph. Please let
them take their time!

“How may I help you?”

The more convivial of
the two, the one with Reed’s eyes, said, “I’m Francis Eames and
this is my brother, Charles Eames. We’re looking for our older
brother, Reed Gordon Eames, Viscount Selwich. Our father, the Earl of
Merkvale, is worried about him.”

Viscount!
It took enormous control to keep her expression steady and polite.
Reed was not just a gentleman,
now he was a peer!

He continued, “He
owns this house.”

It
kept getting worse and worse!
Aloud she maintained her
calm facade and said, “My butler must have told you that we’re
merely renting it for the Season?”

“He did indeed. The
problem is our brother wrote us that he intended
not
renting it out this Season. That he planned on living here when he
returned from his travels. Indeed, he should have arrived by now.”

She was dismayed at the
slightly accusatory tone of the man’s voice.

She knew she looked
shocked, but not for the reason they probably imagined. Heavens! Reed
had been climbing into his
own
house! A house he had every reason to believe was uninhabited.

And
she had shot him! A Viscount!

The quieter, brown-eyed
one spoke up for the first time. “Do you know why the house has
been rented to you? It was not supposed to be available.”

Neither one of them
believed in beating about the bush, it seemed. “I’m afraid I
can’t help you. All the rental arrangements were made by Monsieur
Antoine Moreau, on my behalf.” She paused to think. “He dealt
with attorneys. I believe the name of the firm was Hornings &
Crosbie?” Dear God, she had to get them out of the house as fast as
she could! Before Reed returned and they saw him!

“Yes, they represent
my brother.” Smiling now, the more talkative of the two voiced his
relief. To his brother, he added, “He must have changed his mind
about staying here.”

“It seems the likely
answer, doesn’t it?” Standing, the quiet one moved to the door,
his gregarious brother just behind him. When they reached the door he
turned. ”We’re sorry to have taken up your time, Miss .....?”

“
Mrs
.
Leighton.” She walked with them to the door, where Foster was
waiting to open it. A cloud of doubt still hung about the quieter
one. She could see he didn’t believe her. “I regret I’ve been
unable to help you. Perhaps if you inquire at the lawyers?”

“We have every
intention of doing so, thank you,” the friendlier one responded.
They took their hats and gloves from Foster. “Good day.”

She couldn’t wait for
the door to be closed. She cocked her head in the direction of the
library. They walked there together without a word, entered and shut
the door.

She spun around to face
him. “They’re Mr. Gordon’s brothers,” she moaned. “Or
perhaps I should say that they’re
Mr.
Eames
’ brothers. Or even worse,
Viscount
Selwich
’s brothers!”

Nodding, Foster’s
glower was fierce. “Viscount! So that footman
was
asking for yon Gordon! I should have told them their brother was a
criminal who climbs into ladies bedroom windows.”

“Into his
own
bedroom window,” she said in a small voice. “This house belongs
to him.”

“What! This is yon
Gordon’s house!” She’d finally managed to horrify her butler.
“You’d think he’d remember his own house! That must have been
some crack on the head!

“They said he’d
just returned from abroad and intended to reclaim his house. There
must have been some mix up, because his attorneys leased it to us.”
She paced to the window and turned back to look at him. “They did,
didn’t they?”

“Of course.” An
arrested look of comprehension, quickly followed by dismay, crossed
his face. “You’re thinking about how the key didn’t fit that
first night?”

“We assumed they’d
sent us the wrong key!” She reviewed their actions. “and it was
so late we…“ She bent her head and covered her eyes with her
hand. “Oh my goodness, what if we’ve been in the wrong house all
this time?”

“With Moreau gone,
how in darnation could we have known that?” Foster complained. But
he wasn’t sounding quite as belligerent as before.

“What are we going to
do?” she wailed. What a mess she’d gotten them into! Was it
possible to be charged and jailed for living in someone else’s home
without permission? Gracious, that was nothing compared to shooting a
man in his own house!

“You must go to them
attorneys, Missy. First thing tomorrow! Mason can go with ye. You
need to see what they have to say about this.”

“But Foster, I shot
the man!”

“They don’t know
that! Anyway, t’were an honest mistake,” he averred loyally, “and
it was in self-defense.”

“Perhaps, but the
man’s a Viscount, in line to be the next Earl! What’s he going to
do when he finds out I shot him?” She frowned. She’d just
realized something. “He can’t be involved with those trying to
kill me. Who attacked him in the lane and why? Someone is also trying
to kill him!”

Foster shrugged his
ignorance.

“This story becomes
more and more opaque every day. I shudder to think how it is going to
end.”

* * *

When the Eames brothers
left Reed’s house that afternoon, they were full of questions and
continued suspicions. Especially Chase.

“What can it hurt to
go have a talk with Hornings or Crosbie, and inquire about Reed’s
house being rented out or not?”

On the way to the law
office they discussed how much to say. It was more gut instinct that
had them worrying. Gut instinct and knowing their brother well enough
to be certain he’d never have arrived in London and not gotten word
to them somehow. When Kit Grainger, another Spare, told them Reed had
come to Town days ago, they’d immediately known something was
wrong.

The attorney asked them
why they wanted to know if Reed’s house was leased out or not.

“We’ve just come
from there,” Chase told the attorney. “We spoke to the lady
renting the house. For the Season, she said, and she has no idea who
our brother is.”

“We have definitely
not leased his house. The Viscount gave us specific orders not to. We
even sent in cleaners to prepare the place for him.” The attorney
was outraged. “I will send a letter advising the lady to vacate the
premises immediately.” He assured them he would even go in person
the very next day to make sure she departed.

They tried to deter
him, not wishing to get in the middle of what might be their
brother’s plans, but there was no stopping him. He felt his
professional reputation was being impugned.

They at least convinced
him to send the letter, but to wait two days before going in person
to evict the lady. Now Chase and Francis worried what Reed was going
to say about this new turn of events.

As they bid the lawyer
good afternoon, they thought that perhaps their visit to him
was
going to hurt. A great deal, if Reed found out what they’d
unleashed! He wasn’t going to thank them for their interference
when Mr. Hornings descended on Reed’s mistress and tried to evict
her! For, who else could she be?

Standing outside the
attorneys’ office, Chase said, “Since we can’t reach Jace and
Max, who are on assignment, maybe we should talk to the Baron. He’s
involved in investigative-type work and might be able to help unravel
what’s going on here.” He hailed a passing hackney. “I’m
starting to have a bad feeling about all of this.”