The Third Duke's the Charm (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

“Caverleigh. I was ho
ping to find you here. I stopped by the ducal residence and your father’s secretary said you’d mentioned your club.”

Charles glanced up, drink at his elbow, the papers he needed to go over stacked on the table. The establishment was quiet in the early afternoon, but he’d been famished and stopped in for food and a glass of whiskey before he tackled yet another long afternoon of sorting through correspondence.

It was cumbersome to try to take over not just for his father but also for Lucien all at once, but he’d found he was surprisingly good at making decisions on the financial side of it, or at least he’d won a rare nod of approval from both Lucien’s banker and his father’s solicitor.

Unfortunately, any sense of satisfaction was mitigated both by grief and by the fact he missed Louisa. For that matter, he missed Vivian as well.

“Please, have a seat.” He watched the other man take a chair at the table. “Looking for me? Why?”

Damien Northfield just sat there for a moment with an enigmatic expression, and then he blew out a short breath. “I think I might be responsible for your brother’s disappearance.”

That was confounding enough that Charles couldn’t dredge up a single comment. However, Northfield didn’t seem inclined to rescue him, so finally, he said, “I’m damned interested in hearing what you have to say next.”

“I’m rather interested in discovering what it might be as well.”

A waiter discreetly arrived and put down a whiskey in front of Lord Damien, departing as quietly as he had arrived. The younger brother of the Duke of Rolthven fingered his glass but didn’t take a drink. “My wife and Vivian Lacrosse are quite good friends, as I’m sure you know.”

“Yes.” Charles was well aware of how Lady Lillian’s first season had ended in a spectacular scandal but Vivian had been a staunch supporter. Later, at her brother’s insistence, Lily had reentered society and Vivian had been delighted for her when she met and consequently married the man sitting across from him.

“She asked me to look into what might have happened to Stockton.” It was said matter-of-factly. “In the war I dabbled in a bit of espionage. Retrieving lost items and tracing information were part of my duties.”

From what he understood, “dabbled” was a modest way of putting it, but Charles was hardly an expert on what qualified a man to be a spy, and besides, the war was over. “That must have been interesting,” he said with a slight edge to his voice, “but can you clarify how that makes you responsible for Lucien’s inexplicable absence?”

“There are men who might seek revenge.” Northfield finally took a drink, the movement of his hand deceptively casual as he lifted his glass. He set it back down again. “I suspect some of them would very much like to exact vengeance. When men pit their wits against each other in a deadly game, it can become personal rather than political. The war is behind us, but the ramifications linger.”

“I still don’t see—”

“My inquiries have led me to believe your brother was taken by mistake. We are of the same age, both sons of a duke, we frequent the same club, we are of a height, and I am sure he has been seen leaving my residence after escorting Vivian on calls to my wife. As I began to make inquiries, it occurred to me that his habits were quite similar to mine, right down to our tailor. It turns out we both had an appointment there the same afternoon.”

That was an interesting theory, but a grim one. “I take it these enemies weren’t intent on inviting you to tea.”

“No.” Northfield’s dark eyes were somber. “I can think of two possibilities who might hate me with enough intensity that an abduction would be worth the time and effort involved to plan it.”

It was impossible to not look at him with sharp inquiry. “You know
two
people who might want to abduct you?”

Northfield said with calm intonation, “No. I know two people who might be
capable
of it. Not at all the same thing.”

Digesting that, Charles said slowly, “I see your point. What are the chances my brother is still alive? Surely they will have realized the mistake at some point. It’s been weeks.”

“I would be tempted to soften the truth, but that is not a favor to you. Hopefully Lucien understood early on what was happening and could form some sort of strategy.”

In other words, the outcome was bleak. Not that Lucien wasn’t perfectly capable of defending himself, but he would be taken completely off guard, which might explain why he vanished without a word.

Sick at heart, Charles murmured, “Surely they might—”

“Ransom him? Not when this is, and never was, not about money.” Damien smiled thinly, reclining in his chair, his dark eyes shadowed. “I won’t lie to you, though if Vivian asks me I can’t promise I won’t hedge when I answer her. These men aren’t brimming with the milk of human kindness. However they wish to exact penance for my perceived sins, they want every drop of blood. When Artemis realizes he has the wrong man, he will consider Lucien disposable. This isn’t about death, it is about vengeance.”

“Artemis?”

“An archrival. If I had to choose which one would go to this trouble, he would win the wager. He’s never been entirely sane in my opinion.”

“Who the devil is he?”

“Someone you’d never care to meet.”

“That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“I wasn’t trying to reassure you, just inform you of my conclusions.”

They regarded each other for a moment while others laughed, lit pipes, and ordered more claret around them. Northfield drank his whiskey and set aside the glass. “They would take him elsewhere, of course.”

Charles wasn’t so much bitter after all these weeks as he was angry. “Such as?”

“I’m not sure but I’ll find out,” Damien said briefly and got up to limp away as quietly as he had arrived.

***

Louisa hesitated at the door before knocking firmly.

No answer.

Maybe Vivian was just resting.

She was a country girl: unsophisticated, unaware of the nuances of the city, and yes, naïve. But she did understand some parts of the natural process of life more than all of those enlightened, elegant ladies back in London and she thought perhaps she now saw why Charles had sent her to Cheynes.

“Vivian?”

“Yes.” It took a moment but she answered the door, her shining hair a loose halo around her shoulders. “Louisa, I’m sorry. I was napping. Please come in.”

This was not going to be the easiest conversation ever, especially since she was the outsider, but Louisa went to take a chair. The sitting room was elegant and a bit on the masculine side, and even if he and Vivian hadn’t yet married, Louisa assumed it belonged to the missing marquess. The furniture was heavy and dark, and the shades without ornament, not to mention the decanter of brandy on the table in the corner and the newspaper—months old—sitting on the chair.

The duke was very fond of his almost daughter-in-law.

Not quite so much of her. Maybe it was all those plants they discussed and the time they spent together in the conservatory, but they seemed to have so much in common, whereas she had virtually . . . nothing.

How awkward this all was in retrospect.

“I miss Charles,” she blurted out.

“So do I.” Vivian looked at her quizzically. “I thought you said he wrote he was going to come home soon and stay for at least a week.”

“He did.” She hesitated. “And I cannot wait to see him, but he is busy to the point of madness. He didn’t offer a date, and I can hardly criticize his desire to make sure he thoroughly does his duty. Besides, that isn’t why I am here.”

“Oh?”

“I suppose I wondered if you didn’t miss Lord Stockton just as much as I do my husband.”

Vivian turned away briefly. Just a glance at the window, but her expression was very poignant. “Of course.”

“I was wondering if perhaps . . . well, is it possible . . . I am not sure how to ask this in any other way, but are you going to have his child?”

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt, but circumstance dictated it. She was, after all, there ostensibly because Charles was worried about Vivian and she was beginning to understand why.

Obviously startled, Vivian turned back to stare at her. “You can tell?”

Louisa had debated how to handle this moment all morning. She took in a breath. “You are fatigued and almost exclusively shun anything for breakfast except dry toast. I haven’t even noticed you in the garden as much.”

Pretty in a pink muslin day dress, so feminine with her pale skin and dark hair, Vivian looked at her hands for a moment and then nodded. “I am pregnant. At first I just wondered, but it seems a certainty now.”

“I take it you told Charles.”

“Of course.”

How easy their relationship was, and though she wasn’t precisely jealous, Louisa wished she had a friend to confide in as easily. “When he sent me here with you, he said you might need me. Now I understand why.”

“He needs you too, so it was quite generous of him.” Vivian’s smile was misty. “I know he must be bereft stuck in London without you.”

That was a pleasing thought, though Louisa hardly wanted him to feel lonely. “I won’t deny the city intimidated me a bit.”

Vivian gave a visible shudder. “I have never cared for it all that much. My mother loves it. She finds the countryside to be dull.”

“Does she know?”

“About the babe? Of course not.” Vivian sighed and shook her head, her long hair catching the light. “She will be appalled.”

Louisa considered her thoughtfully. “But you do not seem to be.”

“I know I am irrevocably ruined, but as this is Lucien’s child . . . I cannot grieve for my reputation. We are talking about a life, not something so superfluous as whether or not I will get the cut direct if I attend a fashionable event. I’ve thought about the ramifications, and in the end, decided they do not matter. The duke is delighted actually, even considering the circumstances, that he will have a grandchild.”

“You told him?” Louisa still found her father-in-law an imposing figure and she couldn’t quite imagine discussing such a personal matter with him.

“Did I have a choice?” Vivian asked dryly. “Sooner or later everyone will know. You seemed to guess easily enough. So much the better if he heard it from me rather than through idle gossip. As I said, he took it quite well.”

“What if he were to have two?”

“Two what?”

“Grandchildren. Quite close together at a guess.” Louisa blushed, but then again, it was a delicate subject.

That widened her eyes. “Truly? I am so happy for you and Charles!”

She was. Louisa could see the genuine warmth in her unusual eyes.

“I am not yet quite certain, but . . . I think so.” Louisa had carefully counted the days, recounted, and then as each passed, her belief strengthened. Something could go amiss, she knew that, and it was possible her courses were just a bit off schedule, but somehow she
knew
.

That sounded rather romantically sentimental, but then again, shouldn’t it be?

“It’s an extraordinary feeling, is it not?” Vivian smiled, as usual without affectation, her lovely face animated. “I would think I might be horrified as I am not a married lady, but I just . . . am not. If it is considered outré to like to cultivate plants, just think how people will react when I suddenly am a mother without a husband. At least you have one of those.”

“He could have been yours.” They hadn’t discussed yet the elopement and this seemed like the right time.

“Charles?” Vivian said slowly, “I don’t know if you will take this is as it is meant, but he would never have been mine, and at the same time, he will be mine forever. A paradox, I know, but what I mean is that he and I will always share a friendship that is unique and deep, and while we do love each other, not with the passion he feels for you. It was never like that, and I didn’t know for certain that even existed until he told me about you. He has always been enthusiastic about different pursuits and he teased
me
unmercifully about my hobby as well, but when he told me about the first time he’d met you, I could tell he was
different
.”

There was a part of her that would always be a bit jealous of her husband’s special friendship with the woman sitting across from her, but Louisa was also grateful. “You persuaded him to court me.”

A brunette eyebrow lifted in an ironic arch. “Was it a courtship? I thought more likely it to be a whirlwind romance in which he swept you away. That is Charles. Impetuous and yet charming almost to a fault. He persuaded me to do some things when we were children that were foolhardy at best. Luckily, he usually took the blame.” She added softly, “Your children will adore him.”

And Lucien’s son or daughter would never know their father.

Though she wasn’t acquainted with the marquess, Louisa felt a pang, both for her husband and for Vivian. Impulsively she leaned forward and covered the other woman’s hand. “You will be their favorite aunt, I am sure.”

“Their scandalous aunt.” There was no bitterness in her voice, only resignation. “I am glad the duke supports my desire to keep this child but I am not going to fool myself into thinking it is going to be an easy road to travel. I am already the subject of gossip because of Lucien’s unexplained absence and when it becomes obvious that I am enceinte, it will be much, much worse. I need to tell my parents so they can prepare themselves, but I preferred to tell the duke first. My mother is going to try to insist I go away. I suspect she might even try to persuade me to give up the child, but that will
never
happen. Every single time I look at our son or daughter, I will see Lucien.”

There were all different forms of courage in this world. The valor of soldiers risking their lives for king and country, the determination of a farmer to wrest from the earth a harvest to feed his family, the leap of faith it takes for men and women to entrust their entire life to the church because of their belief that God exists . . .

And there was also the quiet courage Louisa saw before her. It was a bit humbling because she was so afraid of public censure she had gladly fled London lest she stumble socially and humiliate herself and her husband’s family. Yet here was Vivian, more than willing to face a firestorm of reproof because she loved her unborn child as much as she had obviously loved Lucien Caverleigh.