The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (44 page)

Something strange was
at play, she thought, now that she was recovering her aplomb and was
able to think calmly about it. She’d have expected him to know who
she was. Not that they’d met all that often, being two generations
apart. And men were notorious for their poor memories about matters
other than their horses and attractive young women. But even so…

She’d almost had an
apoplexy when he’d introduced himself as someone else!

He’d looked her
straight in the face, without a glimmer of recognition, and told her
a barefaced lie… and he’d practically claimed to be living with
Talia!

She’d come close to
confronting him, to telling him she knew exactly who he was, but
she’d been unable to detect any sign he recognized her. Had some
misfortune addled the lad’s brain? That might explain Daphne’s
not mentioning his return. Perhaps she was ashamed to admit their
heir had lost his mind. He might not be such a fine match, after all.

She had the feeling
that this was one of those times when it would be wiser to hold her
tongue until she knew more about the situation.

And what was her
granddaughter’s role in this? She was hiding something. Until this
afternoon, Eva believed she’d known what that was.

They couldn’t have
wed in secret, could they!

What if he’d married
Talia under a false name? She’d cheerfully throttle him if he’d
done that! But if her first thought was correct and they’d wed
while he had no memory, matters could become very tricky, indeed. Eva
knew Reed’s father, George. He was the epitome of the intrusive
father who wanted to control his children’s lives. Daphne had
confided that was why her grandson left all those years ago. No,
George would not be pleased.

Such baffling
circumstances. They bore watching… up close. She needed to protect
Talia from ruin. The child thought her Grandma didn’t know about
poor Cousin Minerva falling ill and being quarantined.

Oh
Ida, how I wish you were here.
As she often did, she
silently spoke to her long-departed twin.
Don’t
fret, dear sister, I won’t barge in and cause trouble. I’ll bide
my time for now and see what is really going on before squawking.
But she couldn’t allow Talia to continue like this. Something had
to be done immediately… and Eva knew just what she was going to do.

“Sorry for taking so
long, Grandma,” Tally hurried back into the room, followed by
Joseph struggling to carry a tray loaded with tea, biscuits and the
very best china. She prayed he didn’t drop it. To avoid that, she’d
carried it from the kitchen to the door, but she didn’t want her
grandmother to know how few servants she had, so she’d allowed him
to take it these last few steps. “Mrs. P is out, so it took longer
to organize the tea.”

And she’d asked
Foster to keep a watch on Reed so that he didn’t decide to join
them for tea in the drawing room.

She pointed to the
small serving table beside her grandmother. “Put it down right
there, Joseph. Good. Thank you. You can go help Foster now.” He
started to race toward the door, but slowed down to a more seemly
walk when she cleared her throat.

“So Mrs. P came up to
town, did she? Marvelous, I do love her cooking.”

That sounded like
Grandma intended on being here often enough to enjoy Mrs. P’s
cooking. “Have you been here long, Grandma? No one warn– told me
you were here.”

“That would
presuppose you had enough servants to do that,” was her
grandparent’s wry retort.

Tally groaned inwardly.
Grandma Eva had just arrived and already she’d assessed the
situation accurately. “I haven’t had time to hire everyone I need
yet.”

“Surely it doesn’t
take long to hire sufficient servants!”

“It does when it’s
your first time in London and you aren’t sure where to go to hire
the best people.”

“And whose fault is
that?” Her Grandma went on the offensive. “Had you advised us of
your arrival, we’d have done our utmost to help you.”

“No, you wouldn’t
have, Grandma. You’d have twisted my arm until I gave in and went
to live with you.” She knew her grandparent well.

“And why shouldn’t
you come live with your old grandmother?”

“Ha! You only pull
out your age, like a trump card, to get your own way. I know of few
people who have your energy and verve. Not even women many years
younger than you.”

Her grandmother tried
to hide her pleased smile.

“I want to live
alone, Grandma,” she explained. “I’ve spent my whole life in a
house full of people, taking care of them. It’s time for me to
think about myself and what I want.”

“I understand, dear,
but in this case, until you have your house well organized, with all
your servants in order
and with
a bona fide companion
, I see no option but for me to move
in with you. To protect your good name.” She continued, “It’s
unseemly to have my grandchild alone in a house in London,
particularly when she has family around. People will think you are at
odds with the family.”

“Ah, Grandma…”
She knew she was bleating, but darn it all, why did her family always
have to interfere in her plans? She might have known Grandma knew
about Cousin Minerva.

“And who is this Mr.
Leighton you introduced me to and why is he making free of your
library?”

“The owner of the
house has granted him the use of the library for research purposes.
He’s no bother.” She congratulated herself on her quick thinking,
while inwardly bemoaning the fact that she was becoming far too adept
at telling tales.

Her grandmother
sniffed. “Highly irregular. It makes me glad I’m moving in to
ensure nothing untoward happens.” She directed a stern look at
Tally and said,

“I will be moving in
tomorrow, the day after at the latest.”

“But Grandma...”

A discrete knock at the
door preceded Foster’s entry into the room. He gave an abbreviated
bow in her grandmother’s direction then said, “Mr. Leighton would
like a word with you, Miss.” When she didn’t immediately move, he
added, “Best not keep him waiting.” And, making sure her relative
couldn’t see, he winked at her!

What was he trying to
do, get her in more trouble?

She left the room
reluctantly. She didn’t like leaving those two old conspirators
together unsupervised. Who knew what plots they’d devise to
complicate the situation even more? Instead of going to see Reed, she
put her ear to the door, thankful there was no footman to see her do
it.

“Quick, Foster, tell
me what’s going on between those two,” her grandmother said.

“Nothing ma’am.”
Foster sounded far too innocent. Grandma was going to suspect he was
hiding something.

“Oh don’t you
“ma’am” me, you old fraud. Something is definitely going on and
you’re in it up to your neck!” At his continued silence, she
said, “Well, I’ll be moving in and will get to the bottom of it,
fear not.”

“No need, ma’am.”
At Grandma Eva’s annoyed snort, he must have moved closer to her
because she couldn’t hear him as well. “You can be sure nothing
is going to happen on my watch. If Mr. Leighton tried anything
untoward, I’d use my trusty blunderbuss to put a hole in him so big
we’d see his ar– er...”

Tally almost choked
trying to stifle her laughter. She imagined the quelling stare her
grandmother had leveled on him to stop him that abruptly.

“Well, ye know what I
mean. Heh heh...”

“Good. I know you’d
not see a hair on that child’s head harmed, that’s why I haven’t
interfered sooner. Ida had utter confidence in you and so do I. At
least I won’t have to move in today. However, I will be moving in,
make no mistake about that. Somebody has to watch out for the child’s
reputation.”

“When may we expect
you, ma’am?” He sounded all-butler now.

“Now that I know you
have the situation in hand, I’ll arrive the day after next,” She
heard her grandmother say. “I have an appointment tomorrow, I
really cannot miss.”

She stood and adjusted
her skirts, ready to bid her dear grandmother
arrivederci
.
She was grateful Foster had once again saved the day. Although it was
going to be far from easy, they’d been given a reprieve and had one
more day to find somewhere to send Reed.

* * *

“We’re no closer to
finding a solution and Grandma Lawton will be here tomorrow!”

“Humph,” grunted
Foster.

The look Tally threw
him held equal parts exasperation and panic.

“What are we going to
do?” She was almost ready to confess all to both Reed and her
grandmother and beg their help.

She should be doing
something about it, instead Mr. Dubuc was about to arrive any minute
to take her for their drive in the park. And, although she knew she
needed to be here resolving their problem, she was anxious to leave
in case her grandmother changed her mind and arrived early.

She had on her most
concealing hat, a straw gypsy bonnet with a wide navy blue scarf tied
under her chin. Even if few in London knew her, she was not keen on
being noticed. She looked sufficiently like her sisters, who were
well-known portrait artists, to be recognized as a Lawton.

Suddenly Reed stalked
into the drawing room, where she was waiting. “What do you mean
you’re going out for a ride with that French fellow?” He was
incensed that his wife was going out riding in the park with another
man, especially
that
man. He’d taken an immediate dislike to Dubuc. Watching him cozying
up to Tally at the party had not endeared the man to him. “Are we
not husband and wife? Do I not have the right to forbid it?”

“But married couples
do this all the time. The husband goes out with his friends and the
wife with hers.”

He noted she never said
that
they
did that
all the time. Was he crazy to wonder if they were, in fact, married?
His memories had started to return, but not one of them concerned his
wife.

“That may be so, but
not usually with young, unmarried men, I’m convinced.” He felt
belligerent. Like he needed to protect what was his.

“In truth, they do.
However, flirting is not why I am going for this ride with Mr. Dubuc,
if that is what concerns you. I need information regarding his
uncle.”

“Who is his uncle?”
Was she trying to fool him with a trumped up story?

“Monsieur Moreau
.
”

“Ah…” He should
have realized it. His wife was very single-minded regarding her art.
“So he’s still missing?”

“Yes and I’m
terribly worried about him.” She wrung her hands anxiously. “I
know he’d never abandon me like this. He’d take measures
beforehand to see that I was well taken care of.”

“You think foul play
has occurred?” Once the statement was out of his mouth, he realized
it had come out very naturally. He seemed to be accustomed to dealing
with foul play.

Disturbing thought.

“I suspect it,” she
replied, “unless I am badly mistaken in the man’s character.”

“What if the nephew
is involved in the foul play?”

“That is absurd.
Monsieur has raised Mr. Dubuc like a son? Why would his nephew turn
on him?”

“Since time
immemorial, men have been known to turn their backs on family for
their own selfish needs.” He wondered if that was what he himself
had done six years ago.

“But to make a man
disappear…. To harm him? Really!” She exclaimed. “You’re just
trying to frighten me.”

“Nevertheless, I’d
be happier if you weren’t alone with the man. Take Mason with you.”
Ever since that runaway cart episode, he worried about her being
exposed to whoever had tried to harm her that day.

“Impossible. He’s
going to…” Tally bit her tongue to stop herself from continuing.
She’d been about to say,
follow
you, in case there is another attack.
Instead, she changed
it to “…meet someone.” Despite his lack of memory, Reed was no
slow-top. He’d obviously taken Mr. Mason’s measure and sensed he
was there as more than just her brothers’ friend.

“Don’t worry, I’m
planning on bringing Joseph.”

The look he gave her
made clear how he viewed that solution, but before he had a chance to
object further, Foster — who had gone to answer the front door —
came to the open drawing-room door.

“Monsieur Dubuc is
here, Mrs. Leighton.” He sounded stiff and she knew he had
overheard Reed’s concern. Lord, what a pickle! Now Foster was going
to spend the entire time she was gone fretting about her safety.

“Coming.” She went
into the hallway. “I’ll wear my royal blue pelisse, Foster.”
She smiled at his relieved expression.

He nodded. He
understood she was taking this seriously and was taking precautions.

He held the pelisse for
her and, once it settled over her shoulders, she patted both sides of
the coat to show him she was carrying her pocket pistol and knife
just as they’d planned. To him, London was a dangerous city, and
he’d prepared her for most eventualities.

“Come Joseph.”

Standing at the window,
Reed watched her go. Dubuc certainly didn’t lack for money. That
was an excellent pair of high steppers behind the obviously brand new
curricle. He would not have expected an artist’s nephew to have
that kind of blunt. There must be a rich relative somewhere in the
picture to afford such quality.

Foster re-entered the
drawing room. He stood there, clearly wanting to say something.

“What’s going on,
Foster? My memory may be gone, but my brain isn’t and I sense
something that doesn’t smell right.”

“I can’t rightly
say, sir.”

But the old butler
looked like he very much wanted to say.

“I am concerned about
my wife. If you know of some further danger to her, speak now.”