The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (67 page)

“No, my lord! And I
can do better than describe her, sir.” He whipped a card out of his
breast pocket and extended it to Reed. “Her footman gave me her
card. She claims to be Lady Christabel, daughter of the Duke of
Archstone.”

Damnation! His father
was meddling again! The reason for Hislop’s qualms became clear. He
well imagined the scene Archstone’s over-indulged daughter might
have created. As an adolescent she’d craved attention, at any cost.
The Duke was an old friend of the Earl’s, and his daughter
Christabel was a spoiled little shrew to whom his father had tried to
betroth him six years ago! The was the reason he’d left England and
settled in Egypt.

His years away hadn’t
taught the old man a thing!

“You said goings-on,
plural?” he prompted his butler.

“Yes. The next day
the Earl, your father, dropped by and, after satisfying himself that
you were not here, he went next door and spoke with the young miss.”

“My father came here!
How did he–?” he bit off his words. Time enough later to find out
who had betrayed his confidence by revealing the location of his
townhouse. “You saw my father speaking with Miss Lei–?”
Had
they conversed on the doorstep!
If Hislop was capable of
overhearing a conversation that took place next door, it was no
wonder the Chief hated to part with the man!

“Not precisely.”
Hislop broke in. “I watched your father knock next door. I waited,
as I believed no one was home at the time. I thought he may wish to
give me a message for them.” He continued, “One of Lady Lawton’s
footmen opened the door.”

Reed couldn’t help
but reflect that Hislop seemed remarkably well-informed despite his
brief time in residence.

“Your father was
invited in and remained for approximately a quarter of an hour. When
he left, I noticed it was Miss Talia Lawton who escorted him to the
door.”

So she’d taken back
her true identity...

But Reed didn’t like
what he was hearing. It was clear his father had interfered once
again. He clenched his fists, struggling to control his anger. Like
so often in the past.

If the Earl was
responsible for Tally leaving Town, Reed was going to ring a peal
over his father’s head. He’d make sure his sire never stuck his
noble nose into Reed’s affairs ever again!

“Excellent work,
Hislop. I thank you for your keen observations,” he said. “If
there is anything else you think I should know, please do not
hesitate to inform me.”

“None that I am aware
of at the moment, my Lord. I will, however, be sure to remain alert.”
The butler was about to head back into the deeper recesses of the
house when he added, “I forgot to mention that young Joseph came to
us once Foster and Miss Lawton left.”

“Good! I’ll speak
with him now. He might know something about their whereabouts.” He
waved Hislop on, preparing to follow, but the butler’s reply
stopped him.

“He has already gone
home at this hour, my lord.”

Reed glanced at the
grandfather clock in the hall and saw it had gone six. Damn! “Of
course. Tomorrow then.” He noticed he was gripping his kid gloves
so tightly they were going to be ruined. He slapped them against his
thigh, impatient to be doing something to get some answers.

He thought about what
course to follow now. “I believe a visit to my parents’ home is
in order.” He was almost out the door, when he turned back to add,
“Should my supposed fiancé return, do precisely what you did the
first time. She is not to be allowed into my home, under any
circumstances.”

* * *

Reed soon realized he
had no choice but to call on Lady Lawton, Tally’s grandmother.

After a serious
discussion with his father, who did a lot of blustering but admitted
that, following his visit to Tally, he’d gone to see the Duke and
told him they had to wait for Reed’s return to finalize any
betrothal agreement.

“How
uncharacteristically thoughtful of you, father.” Reed’s sarcastic
compliment was coated in ice.

His mother chuckled.
“You deserve every bit of that, you meddling old fool. Didn’t
making him flee for six years, teach you anything?”

His father winced at
his wife’s scolding.

Reed didn’t bother
telling him they’d sat together and talked in the park. But he did
ask how his father had learned of Reed’s address.

“I overheard your
brothers,” the Earl explained. “It didn’t take my investigator
long to discover which law firm you were using and then to find out
which property you owned.” He sounded proud of himself.

“I will be changing
my attorneys forthwith.” He reined in his rage. “This has to
stop, father. If my leaving for that long hasn’t taught you to stay
out of my business, I promise you that next time, I will go away to
America for good and only return after you have cocked up your toes!”

“Reed!” His father
sounded shocked.

“I mean it, father. I
will not put up with you trying to manipulate and run my life
anymore.”

In the end, his father
reluctantly agreed he’d stay out of Reed’s affairs and went so
far as to admit he was glad to see Reed home.

In return, Reed unbent
enough to tell him he’d been suffering from amnesia this past
month, but left his mother, to whom he’d told all earlier, to
explain further. He needed to find Tally as soon as possible.

Neither parent had any
idea where Tally’s family lived. His heart sank when he realized
who he was going to have to ask. Lady Lawton. He groaned at the
thought. He dreaded facing the old dragon. Nevertheless, he went home
to change into more formal visiting apparel. He needed all the
armament he could find for a visit with Tally’s formidable
grandmother.

* * *

“Miss! Miss Tally! A
package just arrived for you.” Ned, the hefty young man she’d
hired to do the heavy work, to save Foster’s back and arthritic
limbs, came rushing into the stable where Foster was scolding her for
mucking out and working too hard and neglecting her painting.

“Mr. Slade from the
Village brought it.” Ned said.

“A package for me?”

“Yes, Miss, it’s
huge.” The awe in Ned’s voice warned her to expect an
impressive-sized package.

Foster betrayed no
excitement at all. Like her, he was well accustomed to huge packages
being delivered for her father or the others. He said, “Ned can
finish this later, can’t you?”

“Yes, sir, Mr.
Foster.”

“Come on then, let’s
go see what this package is all about.” He patted her shoulder and
turned to lead the way.

She smiled at the
tender gesture. How she loved the old dear. She stood and washed her
hands in the water Foster had brought for that purpose. He’d been
stalwart in his support this past week. One surprise he’d revealed
was her grandmother’s close friendship with Reed’s grandmother.

“Daphne is Reed’s
grandmother?” Had Grandma recognized Reed as her great friend’s
grandson?

“Are ye going stand
there in the moon all day?” Foster called back to her from the barn
entrance.

“Coming!” She wiped
her hands on her protective apron and hurried after them, focusing
her mind on the package that awaited her. Who could have sent
anything to her? Monsieur?

It was indeed huge.
Large, rectangular, and wrapped in leather, it was taller than she
was. It was a painting, of course, but she was usually the one
sending her pieces out, not receiving them. And this one was framed!
Very unusual.

There was a time when
such a delivery had been commonplace — when her father and the rest
of her family lived here — but that hadn’t been for years now.
And her brothers had been much more likely to receive deliveries of
large rocks and marble slabs for their sculptures.

There were no markings
to indicate who the sender was. “Let’s put it in my bedroom.”
Nerves fluttered around in her stomach. Could Reed have sent it?
Foolish thought, she castigated herself. Why would he do that? But
love had him always in the forefront of her mind and she couldn’t
help herself from wishing it was from him as a token of his
affection.

She was relieved when
the package reached her bedroom in one piece. It was the only place
she dared open it, for she had no idea what it might contain. Once
Foster and Ned left, she could be confident of total privacy here.

She asked them to
remove it from the thick leather pouch it was enveloped in. It was
wrapped inside again, in soft cloth. Thanking them, she assured them
she could finish the task on her own.

She was almost afraid
to open it. Anxious about what she might find, if it was from Reed.
It was wound in long, thick swathes of soft felt. They had placed it
standing against her sturdy cheval mirror in the middle of the room.
Round and round the frame she walked, having to squeeze between it
and the mirror each time, unraveling the material covering the
painting. She forced herself not to peek at it. Once it was totally
free of its wrapping, she stood with her back to the painting then,
closing her eyes, she turned to face it. Taking a shaky breath, she
slowly opened them.

“Oh my heavens!” It
was
from Reed! He had
painted her! No one had ever done that before, not even one of her
family. Too dull a subject for them to tackle, no doubt.

He’d made her
beautiful. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the painting. She
gazed in awe at her image, dressed in her finery, the night of her
sister’s party. He had an excellent sense of observation and recall
to have replicated d her dress and hair so well. How translucent her
skin looked. How huge and deep her eyes appeared, and how soft and...
dare she say
alluring
?...
he’d made her lips.

He saw her like that!

A paper was wedged into
the side of the frame. A note! Excited, she yanked out the paper. But
it wasn’t a note. Why would he send her a newspaper article from...
The Times?
It was
about Lady Christabel! A notice placed by the Duke, her father. Oh my
god! On shaky legs, she went to sit on a chair by the window.

Reed’s betrothal
announcement! This was his notion of breaking it to her gently! Her
heart galloped.
Be brave.
She forced herself to read the notice.
“The
Duke of Archstone is pleased to announce his daughter, Lady
Christabel’s betrothal to Mr. Spencer Allerton of Evesham. Their
wedding will take place on...”

Spencer!
Spencer
was marrying
the Duke’s demanding daughter!
He
was the groom-to-be, not Reed. When she thought of the parents-in-law
the bride was acquiring, for an instant she felt sorry for Lady
Christabel. Then, reflecting on that young lady’s behavior, she
spared a thought for poor Spence. Of the two, he was more to be
pitied.

Suddenly she leapt to
her feet. “Foster!” she called.

“Yes, Miss.”

“That was fast.” He
must have been waiting around the corner. His eyes glimmered with
hope at the change in her voice.

“We’re going to
London.”

“We are?” He didn’t
even try to hide his delight at her decision. “When?”

“At first light
tomorrow.” She touched his arm to show him she appreciated his
eagerness to return to a city for which he had no fondness.

“So we need to get
packing quick like,” he said.

“Yes, we do.” Tally
said. “And Foster” she said before he hustled away. “We’ll
need to bring that large painting we packed away in the attic.”

* * *

“You’ve come to
your senses, I see.” Grandma Lawton said, stating the obvious.

Tally had just been
ushered up to meet her grandparent in Eva Lawton’s private sitting
room. Tally thought she should live here while she tried to find out
what Reed was thinking. Deciding attack was the best form of defense,
she said, “You might be interested to know that you were in part
responsible for my precipitous departure.”

“I? Never! I even
tried to mend...” Her grandmother stopped her justification at
Tally’s knowing nod.

“Exactly. The Earl of
Merkvale lost no time in coming to see me. To tell me he had arranged
a far better match for his son.” She sat down beside her
grandmother on the sofa.

“That fool! That
interfering nincompoop!” Her grandmother exclaimed, failing to see
that she had indulged in her own brand of interference.

Cutting off her
grandmother’s imprecations against the Earl, Tally said, “It
might not have mattered, Grandma. I had already witnessed the Duke of
Archstone’s beautiful daughter visiting her “fiancé” next
door.”

“Glory be! You
thought she was betrothed to Selwich?”

“
She
thought she was too!”

“That George Eames!
Always trying to control his children’s lives! Not that the Duke
isn’t as much to blame, if he let his daughter think she was
betrothed before the contract was final.” She paused, having just
made some connection. “So that’s why the announcement in the
Times. Mr. Spencer Allerton is a huge come down for one such as she.”
Grandma wrapped Tally in a warm hug. “You poor dear. How you must
have suffered.”

Tally was so moved that
someone in her family understood what she’d been going through,
even just a small portion of it, she couldn’t talk for the few
moments it took to swallow the tears blocking her throat. She’d
been feeling so alone, it was nice to have someone on her side. “I
hope you don’t mind that I’ve arrived without warning, but you
did say I was to feel welcome any time and…” She tapered off. She
couldn’t tell her grandmother she’d come back to fight for the
man she loved. What if she had misunderstood his tacit message? She
hoped his gift was a positive sign and not his way of ending an
unhappy episode of his life.