The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (66 page)

Grandma Lawton, was
adamantly against her leaving London. She’d been so upset, she
rushed off to see her dear friend, Daphne. How she thought that would
help, Tally had no notion.

Foster and Mrs. P were
out. She’d sent them with Joseph to bring the household’s
leftover provisions to his family.

No one was pleased by
her decision to go home, not even her faithful servants, who both
hated London.

Once again, she was
upstairs in the studio when the knock at the front door came. Her
clothes and paraphernalia were packed and ready to go. Now she was
just finishing up readying her paintings to be sent to Monsieur. She
rushed to the window to see who it was, but of course the front door
wasn’t visible from the studio. The portico roof made that
impossible.

Was it Reed?
Oh
please God, no.
She didn’t know if she had the strength
to hold out against him if he tried to convince her to become his
mistress. Gentlemen often had this erroneous notion that women
artists were easy pickings.

Why
did he have to come now?
She was ready to go home and
forget about him.

Minutes later, one of
her grandmother’s servants came to the door. “A gentleman to see
you, Miss.” He held out the tray with a card on it.

So, not Reed. He’d
never send up a card. Who then? She knew few people in town. She
crossed to pick up the card and read, ‘
George
Eames, The Earl of Merkvale
’.

Reed’s father! What
did he want with her? “Please show him to the drawing room and tell
him I will be a few moments.” She turned to pick up her shawl.

She hurried to her
bedroom to wash her hands and face and set her hair to rights. It was
the best she could do in the few minutes she’d taken. She hadn’t
time to change her dress. Besides, what did it matter what he thought
of her? She had no need to impress him. No plans to become part of
the family.

“Good afternoon.”
She approached the pacing man and bobbed a quick curtsy. Courtesy was
engrained in her and, after all, he had done nothing to her.

“Good afternoon.”
He stared at her openly, rudely. “I see now. It is your beauty that
has won him over.” He began to attack immediately. “But beauty
fades, money does not.”

“I beg your pardon?”
This odd little man was Reed’s father? He certainly didn’t
resemble his charming son, snapping at her like an angry terrier.
Reed must take after his mother.

“Lady Lawton was
telling us that my son is planning on marrying you. I won’t have
it!” He ended on a shout.

“My lord, won’t you
please sit down and calm yourself.” Somehow she wasn’t surprised
her grandmother knew Reed’s father. She set her chin and stiffened
her resolve. She’d had enough of people making decisions for her.
This stranger — even if he was Reed’s sire and even if he did own
this house — was not going to come into her temporary home and
order her about.

He must have seen her
determined look because he sat immediately.

“You have your
mother’s “evil” eye.” He gave a surprised laugh.

“You know my mother?”

“I do. And your
father. We all used to be in the same group of friends. Until…”
He paused... as if trying to recall exactly why their relationship
had ceased. “...well, until life took over, I guess. I inherited.
Wendal’s art took him further and further from London and Society,
and we just never seemed to meet anymore.” He looked pensive before
adding, “Haven’t thought of those days in years. We had some
jolly good times.” He straightened, obviously realizing how far
from his point he was straying. His voice hardened and he said, “But
I didn’t come here to reminisce.”

“No. I suspect you
came here to tell me what to do… or not do.” With the right
provocation, Tally could be as blunt as any Earl!

Taken aback by her
forthright candor, he blustered a bit before blurting out, “My son
needs to marry well.”

She nodded in
agreement.

He seemed puzzled she
wasn’t arguing. Did he expect her to disagree with something so
obvious?

“Years ago, I
arranged the perfect union for him with the youngest daughter of the
Duke of Archstone. She also is beautiful, though perhaps not as
comely as you, but she will bring my son a substantial dowry.” He
looked at her uncertainly. “You do understand how important that is
for him?”

“Naturally.” Did he
think to throw her a sop by flattering her that she was more
attractive than the Duke’s daughter? “Although, after witnessing
her appearance here yesterday, you will permit me to say that you
must not love your son very much to betroth him to that woman. I fear
you will rue the day you have brought such a daughter-in-law into
your family,” she said it calmly with, she was almost certain, no
nasty edge to her voice.

His brows rose at that
but, mostly, he seemed baffled by her attitude. He’d expected her
to fight or beg him?

Truth to tell, she
wanted to go at him tooth and nail! When he’d said the duke’s
daughter would bring Reed untold wealth, Tally had wanted to rip
Reed’s father into shreds and, as for that arrogant beauty who, it
seemed, was indeed Reed’s betrothed, she’d like to gouge her
insolent eyes out.

Had she not already
known she loved him, she knew now! Jealousy ripped through her,
shredding her heart into ragged little pieces.

But she had vowed never
to wed a man like her father and brothers, who would make her endure
a repetition of the misery of her childhood. She’d been prepared to
give Reed a chance to prove himself but, if his father said he needed
money that much and if he carelessly forgot his own fiancé, then he
was no different from most artists she knew, excluding Monsieur.

She’d give him up
because of that and because she loved him and wished him a good life.
Not that she could imagine him being happy with Lady Christabel, but
a duke’s daughter would unquestionably be able to bring him more
than he could ever spend. At least the duke would make certain the
fortune was not foolishly frittered away.

“I believe you are
under some misapprehension.” She managed a faint smile. “Your son
is not marrying me.”

“But your
grandmother–”

“…is also
mistaken,” Tally interrupted. “We, Reed and I, were involved in
strange circumstances that led her to believe we should wed. However,
I told her that I am moving back home tomorrow and that there will be
no marriage.”

“Why not?” He
queried in a belligerent tone. “I’ve been given to understand my
son and you were living together, as husband and wife. Have you no
care for your reputation, young lady?”

First, he warned her
off, and now, he was insulted when she agreed with him. This man
wasn’t going to be happy, no matter what she said. “We were
living in the same house, not in the same room! He was ill. He had no
idea who he was. I was taking care of him, which is
not
the same as living as a wedded couple.” She bit out. “No one
knows, other than your family and my grandmother. There is no need
for my reputation to be tainted if everyone keeps it quiet, which I’d
have thought would be to your advantage.”

He looked ready to
argue some more.

“I’m telling you
what you want to hear, why are you arguing with me? She was
exasperated with him.

“I am not so far gone
that I wish you to be ruined because of my son.” He said. “Why
don’t you want to marry him?”

Oh
for heaven’s sake!

“My reasons are my
own.” She stood, signaling the end to their interview. She had said
all she intended to say and wasn’t sure how much more she could
take without breaking down. “Now, you’ve achieved your goal.
Please go.”

He trailed her to the
door and took his leave quietly, looking thoughtful and less sure of
himself than when he’d arrived. Yet he’d accomplished what he
wanted without even a skirmish.

Men! They were never
happy. She was better off without them.

“A hot bath, that’s
what I need first.” Reed was exhausted and dusty from riding
through the night and all day to get back to Town. After rescuing
Tally and Monsieur Moreau, he’d been summoned by the Chief to his
estate in Somerset. Olvin had moved his operations to his estate for
now, to deal with urgent estate matters, while overseeing the
interrogation of his step-brother and his gang. Of all the
outstanding cases, he wanted this one ended before he gave up his
command and he wasn’t about to cede the reins until it was
completed. He was concerned that others might decide to be lenient on
his step-brother out of a misplaced loyalty to him.

Reed, as one of the
three primary investigators — though he’d been more or less
pressed into service on a voluntary basis, by Jace and Max — had
been needed for the interviews of the Vanisher’s associates.
Traubridge’s butler, Clarence, had revealed a lot. Having concluded
he was likely next on the list of items to be cleaned up before his
master left the country for good, he’d been more than willing to
divulge everything he knew. Atley had been next and had been almost
as cooperative, having been promised — much against Jace, Max and
Reed’s wishes — transportation rather than the noose, in return
for telling all. Next, came the Horde. But to interview them, an
interpreter of their dialect had to be found.

That was when Jace and
Max, knowing how impatient Reed was to get back to London, urged him
to go do what he had to do. They planned on convincing the Chief to
move them all back to London, where it would be easier to conduct
their inquiries. Meanwhile, they could deal with whatever came up by
themselves.

Reed hadn’t realized
his eagerness to get back to Tally was so obvious. It had been
nagging at him. He worried he’d not been clear in that last hurried
conversation with her. He had this sense of foreboding and hoped it
wasn’t connected to her.

He was anxious to see
that she was safe. Anxious to make her his wife — his real wife,
this time.

He rushed through his
bath. His new valet had done as Reed had asked and left his clothes
out, ready for him to don by himself. It was good to have the place
fully staffed and running smoothly again. He chuckled at the thought
of Tally and Foster trying to keep the house going with just the two
of them and Joseph for almost three weeks!

At least he couldn’t
complain that his future wife was a spoiled debutante who expected
bang-up-to-the-mark service all the time. Not like that duke’s
dizzy daughter his father had wanted him to marry! He shuddered at
the thought. Tally suited him so well. She was smart and had common
sense. And she drew him to her like... a magnet to steel. He wasn’t
good with similes but he knew his love for her felt as strong as
steel. A nervous trill jumped about in his gut at the thought of
being truly married to her.

You
should be an old hand at it
, he told himself bracingly,
after spending weeks certain you
were already married to her.

“I’ll be next
door,” he told Hislop.

“I’m afraid you’re
going to be disappointed, my lord.”

“Hm?” Reed was
already half way out the door by the time he caught the words. He
halted his forward motion. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve all gone,
sir. They left three days ago.”

“Gone?” It was as
if he’d never heard the word before. “Gone where?”

“I’m not sure, sir,
but I think I heard them say they were going home.” He was
apologetic. “I watched them stow their bags into a very full
carriage and leave.”

“Did sh... they not
leave me a note?”
Gone? She
was gone?

Hislop shook his head.

Without
a word!

“If I may be so
bold?” The butler offered tentatively.

“Yes, go ahead
Hislop, have at it.” He backed into the hallway and waited while
the butler closed the door. Damnation! Why? Why had she left? Hadn’t
she understood…? He’d never even got the name or direction of her
home.
Don’t be ridiculous,
you’re a spy, you’ll find a way to find her.

“There were goings-on
here that I think might have... um... precipitated matters. If I’d
known the situation better.” Hislop sounded apprehensive that he
didn’t have all the answers. Did he think Reed expected him to be
omniscient?

“No one’s blaming
you, Hislop.” Reed reassured him. At the moment, he was far more
interested in finding out what happened to cause Tally to bolt.
“Goings-on? Such as?”

“Such as your
“fiancé” showing up at the front door.”

“My… fiancé?”
Was the whole world going crazy? “I have no fiancé!”

Hislop was too well
trained to react to that statement, but Reed fancied he caught a
gleam of relief flitting through the stiff-lipped butler’s eyes.

The man had come from
the Chief’s household. Now that Hallmoor... Olvin! was shutting
down his own household to move into his father’s home to assume
responsibility for all of the marquisate’s properties, places had
to be found for his servants. The Chief would have liked to keep
Hislop. Said he was worth his weight in gold, but the butler hadn’t
wanted to join the larger staff under the senior butler in place at
the old marquess’ London home. So the Chief “bequeathed” him to
Reed.

“I see. The young
lady insisted I tell her where you were and looked ready to assault
me because I wouldn’t allow her into the house to begin planning
renovations.”

His voice was as bland
as any properly trained butler’s should be. Reed wasn’t certain
why he sensed his new servant would have left and sought another
position had this woman been, in fact, his betrothed. “What did she
look like, this lady who claimed to be engaged to me? It wasn’t
Mrs. Leighton from next door?”