The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (50 page)

“I seem to remember
that was the scheme you and Monsieur concocted prior to our coming to
London,” Foster reminded her. “The only hitch was, a real husband
showed up!” He chortled.

“You think that’s
amusing, do you?” But he was absolutely right. If only Monsieur
came home now and she could begin her dreamed-of future all over
again. A little tarnished now, it was true — there was still the
matter of her father’s name being forged on her paintings — but
she’d be very thankful if that was the only thing she had to
resolve after the madness of the past few weeks.

“How are you going to
break the news to yon Gordon?”

“Carefully?”

He grimaced at her weak
attempt to be funny. But she was actually being quite serious. She
was not looking forward to that confession!

“He’s not going to
take it well when he finds out you two aren’t married. He likes
being your husband a little too much for my peace of mind! I’d
better have my blunderbuss ready.

“He’ll probably
have us thrown into Newgate! Especially if he finds out I’m the one
who shot him.”

Foster surprised her by
shaking his head, making a complete reversal. “He’s not like
that. He’ll understand.” He sounded quite certain.

“Since when have you
become an admirer of his?”

“Mebbe about the time
he saved your neck outside Moreau’s studio?”

She winced. Foster was
a sarcastic old dear, but he rarely sharpened his wit on her. He
usually preferred to bludgeon her with a direct hit. His acerbic tone
meant he thought she was being unfair.

“And I’m grateful
for that.” She shook her head morosely. “I’m going to have to
tell him all of it.” She snagged her nail on the strap buckle of
her valise. Could nothing go right? What had she done to deserve such
bad luck? “While he was anonymous, it seemed less... serious… to
continue with the marriage charade, but now that I know who he is…
what he is, I’m terrified.”

Her voice rose with
each word. She was in so much trouble! “But now, even though he
hasn’t got his memory back, I have to risk telling him. What if, by
doing so, I impede his chances of regaining his memory?”

“I suspect he has
more of it back than we know and the rest will be coming back real
soon,” Foster said. “I didn’t tell you earlier, because I
didn’t want to worry you none, but I think he may have remembered
more than he’s been letting on.”

She stopped her folding
and looked up sharply in askance.

He shuffled his feet
awkwardly. “Today, I spotted yon Gordon leaving the house by the
back door, so I followed him. He went all the way to the park and out
the other entrance, down the lane behind the houses across the street
and into that house where those men be spying on us. Once he was
inside, I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I saw enough. They
know each other.”

“And you still don’t
think I should be worried!” She couldn’t believe Foster hadn’t
told her this, the moment he came in.

“I know it sounds
strange, Missy, but I’m not as worried as I used to be. I’ve seen
the way he is with you and I’m confident that Gordon… or Eames…
or Selwich, whatever name he goes by, has no evil intentions towards
you. Quite the opposite.”

Upset with her own dire
imaginings, she was no longer hearing what he was saying. Full of
nerves, she paced. “Could this day get any worse? First, a proposal
and now this!”

“What proposal?”
Foster looked alarmed.

“Mr. Dubuc. I met him
at the Library today, after going to the lawyers. He’d led me to
believe he had something important to tell me. I thought he must have
news from Monsieur. You know, in reply to the letter he said he’d
try to deliver to his uncle on my behalf.”

“I’ve been thinking
about that. How was he gonna do that if he don’t know where his
uncle is?”

She flashed him an
affectionate grin. Trust Foster to catch the inconsistency of it.
“Exactly what I’ve wondered... but it was worth a try.” Her
smile faded. “I was mortified. He got down on his knee and
proposed! He probably thought that, by promising to try to deliver
the letter — even if he had no idea how to do that — he could
turn me up sweet and I’d accept his proposal.” She shook her
head. “He doesn’t know me at all, does he?”

“I take it you
refused him?”

She gave him a
“did-you-have-to-ask” look.

He began to stroke his
pugnacious chin.

It was a sign he was
thinking. She noticed his swollen knuckles and winced in sympathy
with him. He must be in terrible pain, yet here he was listening to
her woes, determined to help her out of this morass. What would she
do without him, her staunchest friend and supporter?

“Mebbe he has
something to do with his uncle’s disappearance.”

“Of course not.”
She discounted the idea as easily as she had the first time he
suggested it. Despite his age, she’d be more inclined to blame
Beauclaire, the agent, for both Monsieur’s disappearance and
signing her father’s name on her paintings. Monsieur’s friend
made her feel uncomfortable, with his odd questions and comments. And
like she’d said to Reed, why would Mr. Dubuc want to bite the hand
that fed him?

She turned back to her
packing. “We don’t have time to think about that now.” She
sighed morosely. “Best get started on your packing, Foster. The
sooner we move our things next door, the sooner we can begin a new
slate. If he’s recovered his memory, Mr. Gordon might even evict
us!” She finished buckling the strap on her valise and
straightened. “If you think about it, this is the perfect solution.
Especially now that my grandmother insists on moving in with us.”

That made Foster budge.
He hobbled to the door, faster than she’d seen him stir in a long
time.

Shaking her head and
smiling at his reaction, she said, “I can’t have her living in
the same house with Reed.”

“Amen to that,” he
agreed and pulled the door shut on his way out.

That was the silver
lining in this dark cloud, she realized. She didn’t know how she
was going to explain their move to Reed, but she was relieved Grandma
Lawton was going to live in a house minus him. With her ill luck of
late, she’d count herself fortunate if she emerged from this mess
with her reputation intact and not being forced into getting married.

* * *

Reed had just returned
from his meeting with Jace. He heard Tally moving about in her room
and went to join her there, ready to have it out with her. First,
though, he was going to act the loving husband and see what she would
say to him.

“Hello, my sweet.”
He leaned down to drop a kiss on her lips. She turned her head so
that his kiss landed on her cheek.

She was upset. Yet she
didn’t even know that he’d recovered his memory. Something else
must be troubling her. Had there been another attempt on her life?

There he went worrying
about her again! He mustn’t allow himself to be sidetracked. He was
furious with her and itching to let her know what he thought of her!
“What have you been doing this fine day?”

“This morning we went
to the library, as I told you. Foster put the book we got for you on
your night table.”

She was fidgety...
nervous.

And she would be even
more so if she knew that his memory had come back, that he knew her
for the lying jade she was!

“You’re packing.
Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I’m moving
out of this house and into the townhouse next door.”

“Moving? Next door?”
He hadn’t expected this! He didn’t have to act startled, he was
in fact astonished. Something had happened while he was out. Had the
attorney come early? And what was this about next door?

Here he’d been
preparing for a battle royal with her, but not this. Not to find her
slinking away without an explanation. Perhaps he should have expected
it, after hearing that his brothers had been here and met with her.
What had they said? Done?

“Why ever for?” he
asked, then listened in silence while she explained about the error
in houses and why it was imperative that they move as soon as
possible.

“I see.” Was she
not going to tell him, even now, that he owned this house? He’d
kept the lawyer’s letter, expecting to be there. He’d wanted her
to feel the heat of embarrassment at being evicted and, then, he’d
planned to straighten matters out temporarily until he knew what was
what. But surely she had to know he was the owner. She’d been
living here before he even arrived.

Maybe she’d react if
he went along with it. “Well I don’t have much, so my part should
be fairly easy. I can help with the rest of the household items.”

He certainly had no
intention of telling the little liar he’d finally recovered his
memory. He would play this out.

He wanted her to leave.
He did, didn’t he?

But before she did, he
needed to understand what it was all about. Could it be as simple as
her being in the wrong house, him climbing in the window and her,
terrified, shooting him? Sounded unbelievable and like a lot of
coincidence to him.

If it wasn’t that,
then what was her ploy? What did she want from him? Why hadn’t she
just told him the truth?

“No!” At his
surprised look, she seemed to realize she’d reacted too vehemently
and, after a calming breath, she began, “as to that… you and
Mason will be remaining in this house.”

She glanced at him
nervously, not knowing what to expect.

And so she should. She
hadn’t revealed important facts to him when she should have, so he
didn’t see why he should reveal his memory recovery to her.

She gave him a piercing
look. Did she suspect he knew something more than he was letting on?

But she couldn’t know
his memory had returned. No one knew except Jace.

It must be his damn
foolish guilty conscience at not telling her, that was making him
think she knew more. But she was the one at fault here, not him!

Moving behind her, he
wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “Why do you want me to
stay here if you are going? My place is beside you.” Hah! What was
she gong to make of that?

He nudged her chin up
gently with a finger. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
He was amazed at his self control. He was giving her enough rope to
hang herself. He was torn between wanting to kiss her into submission
and wanting to shake her for all her lies.

“I... You...” She
was struggling to find words. To say what? To tell him that he meant
nothing to her, that she’d taken care of him expecting some reward?

“Yes, my dearest
Brown Eyes, tell me what is in your heart.” Your black heart full
of lies! As if he’d believe anything she told him now. He wanted
to! Wanted to believe she was fond of him, but how could he ever
trust her again?

She looked into his
face, searching, trying to penetrate within. She sensed he was
behaving differently, but didn’t know why. Well, she could wait for
her answer. Just like he had waited for her to help him find his
memory!

There was a sudden
pounding on the door. Damnation!
If
that was Foster again!

He didn’t want to be
interrupted. He had too much to ask her. Too much to learn about her
reasons for doing what she did. Too much to tell her about how
betrayed he was feeling.

But this time it wasn’t
the butler who intruded. Someone was at the front door and Foster was
likely the one who answered it. He probably knew his Missy was in
here attempting to confess her deception. Those two were thick as
thieves.

Reed understood the
servant’s untimely interruptions now. He’d been trying to save
his “Missy” from Reed’s advances. He inhaled sharply. What if
they’d completed the deed! They’d come awfully close. Would he
have remembered then? Would he have known she wasn’t his beloved
spouse but a complete stranger, a lying baggage and a total fraud?

He didn’t want to
even think about that!

Joseph came skidding to
the door.

“Ma’am.”

“Yes, Joseph?”

If she wasn’t
remonstrating with the boy for running, she must be really
distressed. The boy’s racing about was a continuous scold between
them.

“Mr. Foster said to
tell you that yer grandmother is here, with her bags, ready to move
in.” Joseph’s eyes grew big at the mention of her baggage, which
must mean there was a mountain of bags. The child was becoming such a
miniature replica of Foster, Reed found himself smiling. His good
humor, however, vanished quickly. As soon as the boy’s message
repeated in his head.

Good
Lord!
He knew who her grandmother was! His grandmother’s
best friend!

Lady Lawton. A
formidable, outspoken dowager. And he’d just about told her he was
wed to her granddaughter!

Yet, she’d said
nothing? Why not? What was her game?

More to the point, what
game did she think he was playing? And did she intend to do something
about it?

He had no idea why
Tally had perpetuated the lie, but he was confident he knew how to
handle her. Her grandmother was another matter. Dealing with her
could become complicated and would involve his family.

She could so easily
have raised a hue and cry and, in the circumstances, he would have
dishonored his whole family had he refused to offer for Tally. If the
plan was to ensnare him into marrying her grandchild, why had she
kept silent?

He didn’t know the
answers to those questions, but he was certain of one thing: he
wasn’t staying around to meet her again, now that he knew who she
was and who he was!

“I’ll start getting
my things together, while you see to your grandmother.” He was out
of the room in a flash. He ignored her half-hearted “Oh but…”
and headed for the back stairs, taking them two at a time, all to
avoid coming face to face with her relative. Reflecting on it, he was
pretty sure he’d seen relief on Tally’s face as he left. Seemed
she was no keener on him meeting her grandparent than he was.