The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (45 page)

“Humph.” He paused
so long Reed thought he wasn’t going to speak, then he added
grudgingly, “In addition to that fugitive cart the other day, there
have been several incidents since we arrived in London.”

“Incidents like
what?”

“Like a rock thrown
into our carriage that almost hit Missy in the head. Like a carriage
narrowly missing running her over the first week we arrived. I kept
telling her they were no mere accidents, but it was only when…”
The old codger cast a furtive look at Reed.

Had
it something to do with him?

“…the rock was
thrown, that she began to take it seriously. That’s why we hired
Mr. Mason.”

He’d be willing to
bet hundreds that Foster had changed what he’d originally meant to
say, but Reed knew he was not going to get more than the butler was
willing to offer. He concentrated instead on what he’d just been
told. “Ah. So Mason is here to protect Talia?”

“So to speak,”
Foster admitted. “He’s here to investigate, as well.

“Then why is he not
accompanying her today?” It seemed the most important thing Mason
should be doing.

Foster shrugged. “A
good-looking young man like Mason does not make for a good chaperone
when a lady is out with a young man.”

Reed didn’t like the
shifty look the ordinarily blunt retainer gave him, before glancing
away. The old codger knew more than he was saying. Was Foster
reluctant to tell him that Reed was the one bringing danger hovering
over them all?

“Foster, is there
something important I should know about my relationship with Mrs.
Leighton that I can’t recall?”

“It’s not my place
to say, sir.”

Which meant there
probably
was
something going on in their marriage. Something Tally didn’t want
to tell him.

Foster hesitated, then
asked, “Are you getting any of yer memory back at all, sir?”

“More memories are
returning since... these last few days,” he admitted. He still
hadn’t mentioned the attack. He didn’t want to worry his wife.
She had enough troubles with him losing his memory, attacks on her
person, and her absent art teacher. “The odd thing is not one of my
memories includes Mrs. Leighton… though, I’d appreciate you not
mentioning this to her.”

The butler’s face was
a study in impassivity. “I’m glad you’re beginning to recollect
yer life, sir. Matters should sort themselves out once you’ve
recovered more of it.” He moved to the door and, before leaving,
turned to add, “Just remember, things aren’t always what they
seem. There can be good reasons for doing what seems like dishonest
things.”

And on that cryptic
comment the old fellow trudged out of the room, leaving Reed more
perplexed than ever.

The sun cast dappled
shade on the young lady sitting on a park bench, beneath a large
willow tree, the Serpentine winding its sinuous way in front of her.
She wore a bright magenta poke bonnet of the latest stare. It set her
apart somehow. Or maybe it was the way she held herself so still, not
wishing to frighten away the little bird pecking at something on the
ground beside her bench. She was sketching the small winged animal
and Tally itched to join her on the bench to do the same. She tried
to imprint the image in her brain so she could draw it later.

Mr. Dubuc had wanted
them to walk, while Joseph watched his horses and curricle, but she
said that would be unwise. Joseph had no experience with horses and
Mr. Dubuc’s were highly strung. Besides, she was not willing to
stroll the paths without a proper chaperone. She may not be the most
town-savvy miss, but Grandma Eva had taught her enough that she knew
it wasn’t wise for an unmarried female to be seen walking in Hyde
Park at the peak hour without a suitable companion. As a result, they
took in the sights and enjoyed nature’s beauty from the seat of his
curricle, driving along, as slowly as he was able to control his
eager horses.

It puzzled her that
someone who cared so much what others thought of him, should be so
careless of her reputation. But she was so happy to be outside,
surrounded by nature again, that she cast aside such troublesome
nigglings.

Despite not getting his
way, Mr. Dubuc was in fine humor. His good-looks were attracting
female attention, as many of the young ladies they passed sent coy
looks his way. His top hat in no way detracted from showing off his
perfectly coiffed, wheaten hair. She took a moment to observe him.
His neck cloth was elaborately tied and his aubergine-colored
waistcoat was the perfect foil for the pearl gray of his exquisitely
cut tail-coat. She hadn’t realized how tall he was, shorter than
Reed, but not by much. He was, however, slighter and a lot less
muscular than her sham spouse.

Shame
on you for being so mean-spirited as to compare him negatively,
she admonished herself,
the poor
man has been all that is nice to you.
And he was lively
and good company, she admitted, despite being a little too
preoccupied with himself.

“Just like a
painting,” he said, echoing her earlier musings. “We have to take
advantage of this sun. There are so few really nice days in London.”
He smiled down at her.

She watched an elderly
couple feeding a... gaggle? No, was it a drift of du…no no, it was
a drift of hogs! What did one call ducks? Now she had it! It was a
paddling of ducks. The whole flock of them were… swishing about,
trying to edge their brothers and sisters out, while they quacked
vociferously for more. Further along, a young boy, carefully watched
by his nanny, pulled a bright red toy boat along the shoreline.

“Paris is so much
brighter than London for most of the year.”

She heard a touch of
longing in his words. She found it odd he’d long for France, given
he’d been living in London all his life.

There certainly was a
lot of activity in the park at this hour. Belatedly, she recalled
that this was where everyone who wanted to be seen came. She had
heard about this, but never imagined she’d be among the
participants one day. To be frank, she’d have preferred not to be.
Such public exposure did not fit in with her plan to remain
incognito.

Not that anyone who was
anybody knew her. But nor did she want them to, and with the way her
companion was greeting almost everyone they passed, her anonymity was
in grave danger of being threatened.

Nodding cheerfully to
this one and that one, Mr. Dubuc clearly was trying to impress her
with how well he fit in with members of the ton assembled here in
their vehicles and on foot. He wasn’t to know that she’d never
cared very much about appearances and secretly found this crowd a
curiosity, to be mocked for their self-satisfied, supercilious airs.
Her only interest would have been to paint them!

Ahead of them, a man
stopped and bowed to two ladies on a park bench. The ladies’
companions were seated on the next bench, a little ways away. The
women laughed gaily at the gentleman’s comments. There was
something familiar about him. Just before they reached the trio, he
bid the ladies adieu and turned, in their direction, to continue on
his way.

Baron Morley! Oh no!
Why did life have to be so perverse?

She kept her head
averted, hoping they’d pass him by without his noticing her.

“Good day, Lord
Morley.”

Tally’s head snapped
around so quickly she almost lost her bonnet.

Her escort pulled on
the reins and stopped the curricle.

Mr. Dubuc knew him too?
Reluctantly, she looked down at the man who came to stand by her side
of the vehicle.

“You two must have
met the other night?” Mr. Dubuc said.

Of course! They’d
both been at her sister’s
soirée
.

She shook her head,
determinedly avoiding the Baron’s knowing smile. She hadn’t seen
them greeting each other the other night, but she might have known
they’d know each other. London seemed smaller and smaller the more
she knew of it.

“Miss Lawton, may I
present Baron Morley?”

Too much to hope he’d
not recognize her. She prayed he didn’t ask about Reed.

“Ah... Miss Lawton.”
He gave a snappy little bow. “The elusive youngest daughter of
Wendal Lawton.”

She released her
breath. Maybe he wasn’t going to mention seeing her with Reed
outside the Academy. “In person.” She nodded. “Why elusive?”

“I never managed to
get close enough to you the other night to be introduced.” His
knowing smirk made it clear he’d known she was avoiding him.

She reassured herself
he probably hadn’t seen her properly in front of the Academy the
other day so had no way of knowing why.

He must have decided to
take pity on her obvious discomfort, because he changed the subject
before Mr. Dubuc could question his manner. “I have several of your
father’s paintings in my home. I’m an avid admirer of his work.”

“I am glad to hear
it.” She noted her companion’s self-satisfied smile. As if the
Baron’s admiration of her father’s work reflected well on him
just by being with her. How ridiculous! Then, she wondered. Was that
the reason for his sudden interest in her?

She searched for some
pretext, to bring up a topic that might include Reed, so she might
find a clue to his identity. In vain. Here was someone who had the
information she desperately needed but she couldn’t ask without
getting herself into hot water.

“Well, my dear lady,
it has been my pleasure to meet you, but I regret I have no time to
further our enjoyable discussion about your father’s work. I have
an appointment in,” he pulled his fob watch from a small pocket in
his vest, “precisely twenty minutes, for which I am loathe to be
tardy.” He nodded at Mr. Dubuc and, tipping his hat, bowed to her.
“We shall meet again, Miss Lawton. I wish you both a good day.”

Oblivious to
undertones, Mr. Dubuc smiled contentedly on their ride home. Tally
wasn’t as sanguine. The Baron’s parting comment had sounded
remarkably like… perhaps not so much a threat, as a promise.
Neither was reassuring.

This morning, she’d
finally cornered Mr. Mason — who had been illusive since the party
— and asked him if he’d discovered anything about the Baron.

He’d told her that
Lord Morley knew everyone who was anyone. It seemed he was a bit of a
rake, who was more apt to be the butt of salacious gossip than
fear-inspiring. Not the kind to be involved in attacks on a woman.

Mr. Mason never
mentioned knowing the Baron. Could she have been mistaken? Had they
sounded friendlier than they were?

Nevertheless, she was
reassured by his opinion that they didn’t have to worry about Lord
Morley, that he was known to be more of a lover than a fighter. Even
if Mr. Mason did know the man, he may have a good reason for not
telling her. Perhaps the Baron was another client and Mr. Mason
didn’t want to betray his trust.

Mr. Dubuc spent the
rest of the outing relating amusing stories of the ton. She enjoyed
his sense of humor, even as she wished he could be less artificial,
more natural. And, though he was all that was complimentary and warm,
his marked attention made her a little uncomfortable.

She no longer had the
slightest urge to paint his almost perfect, angelic looks and that
was not a good sign… for him. She had no wish to encourage his
interest.

Or anyone else’s, she
assured herself. The love of her life was her art!

She felt only relief
when the curricle halted in front of her house. “Thank you, Mr.
Dubuc…” Tally ignored his hiss of annoyance at her continued use
of his family name. “Pray don’t leave your horses untended. I’m
well able to make it into my house from here, and Joseph can help me
down.”

Accepting the wisdom of
her suggestion, he said he’d be in touch soon. “I will do my best
to get your missive to my uncle,” he assured her.

She was glad of his
promise, but hoped he wouldn’t be back too soon... unless it had to
do with Monsieur’s return.

Once down, she murmured
quietly to the young boy, “You go on home now, Joseph. Your mother
is going to be worried about you.” He was already later than usual.

Mr. Dubuc waited for
her to go inside, but she dallied as she went up the walkway to the
door. What if Reed was standing in the hallway waiting for her and
Mr. Dubuc saw him? His pair were prancing sideways nervously, so she
waved and just as she’d hoped, he let his high-spirited horses have
their head. She waited until he was well away and rounding the corner
before knocking on the door.

* * *

Reed was waiting for
her on the landing at the top of the stairs. He took her arm and
pulled her into his room, locking the door behind him.

What
on earth!

“I’ve missed you.”

“I was gone but a
short while.” A frisson of fear shuddered through her.
Had
his memory come back?

“I always miss you
when you’re not here,” he crooned.

Heavens! Her legs felt
weak.

“Did you have a good
time?”

“Not really. I
learned nothing new. All I managed to do was to give Mr. Dubuc a
letter to try to deliver to his uncle.”

“He said he would do
it?”

“No, he said he would
try
to do it.”

“Ah...” He sat in
the armchair and shocked her by pulling her down onto his lap. She
didn’t know how to sit, so she perched primly on the edge of his
knees.

“Did you meet anyone
on your drive though the park?”

Should she mention the
Baron? Yes! It was time to jog his memory, if she could. “We only
spoke to one gentleman, a Baron Morley.” She paused to see if he
recognized the name. When his look remained the same, she continued,
“He said he was at my sister’s the other night, but we didn’t
meet.”