Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (15 page)

Clarence was inexplicably nervous about seeing Lady Annalise again, which was perplexing. He was
never
nervous. She was a chit of a girl—spirited, beautiful, and lively enough to make him feel dull by comparison—but that hardly explained the desperate determination he felt to be of service to her and earn her respect. Clarence shook his head. It made no sense. No sense at all.

The ride to Berkeley Square was a short one, affording Clarence little opportunity to settle upon an explanation that
did
make sense. A methodical, rational man, Clarence disliked being unable to account for any part of his behaviour almost as much as he disliked not being in control of his reactions. His father had routinely taken a strap to his backside for acting impetuously, effectively beating all impulsiveness out of him.

“Facts, my boy,” he could still hear his father booming. “Facts are the only things that signify. Establish those and do not be swayed by emotion.”

Clarence never had been. Until now.

Faraday admitted Clarence to Sheridan House and conducted him to the drawing room. To his considerable surprise, only Winchester and Lady Annalise were in occupation of it. Clarence had expected to be confronted by three angry Sheridans and the duchess, all demanding to know what progress he had made. Pleased at the respite, he glanced at Lady Annalise, wondering if she was responsible for the reprieve. He still recalled how she had taken her brothers to task for blaming him for her abduction, and would not put anything past her. She was dressed in a stylish, warm-looking walking gown and her hair had been dressed partially to cover the injuries to her face.

The lady sent him a radiant smile that caused all other considerations to flee from Clarence’s head.
Do not be swayed by emotion
, he heard his father caution. Clarence ignored the warning and concentrated on Lady Annalise, allowing intense feelings that were as pleasurable as they were inexplicable to course through him. The look she sent him was recklessly sensual, and it was quite beyond Clarence not to react to it. She looked so much better today, but the sight of her ugly bruises, visible in spite of her maid’s best efforts with her hair, made him frown.

“I am very pleased to see you looking much more like your usual lovely self,” he said, bowing over her hand. “And your fingers are better, I see.”

“Thank you, Lord Romsey. I feel a great deal better, and quite ready to help find the location of my prison. I would like to see it in daylight, just to remind myself of the obstacles I overcame. How very annoyed my captors must have been when they discovered I was missing. I take great comfort from having outwitted them.”

“A perfectly natural reaction.” Clarence reluctantly turned his attention to the duke. “Winchester,” he said, inclining his head.

“What news do you bring for us?” the duke asked.

“Frustratingly little.” Clarence spread his hands as he selected the chair on the opposite side of the fire to Lady Annalise. “So far, the count is proving to be everything he purports to be. However, I have people combing through my archives. If that does not help us, I hope the papers Amos brings from Frankie’s home will throw some light on the matter.”

“Let us all hope for that.” It was evident from Winchester’s demeanour that he shared Clarence’s frustration at the lack of progress, but he was clearly mindful of his sister’s feelings and said nothing more.

“I saw the foreign secretary this morning and informed him of your abduction, Lady Annalise. He was most put out about it, sends you his apologies, Winchester, and wants to be kept informed. We have his full support, and he has given me access to just about any record I need to examine.”

Winchester nodded, looking grim. “Whatever concerns the count will not be held on record anywhere,” he said, echoing Clarence’s own thoughts. “You would have found a clue of some sort by now if it was, Romsey. No, it must be something more delicate than that.”

Clarence nodded. “I keep coming back to his Prussian roots. Do you have any idea, Lady Annalise, where Miss Outwood and the count plan to live when they are married? Do they intend to settle in England or does the count favour a return to Prussia?”

“I’m sorry, no. Miss Outwood and I are not particularly close, but I can easily ask her the next time our paths cross.”

“You can’t return to society until your bruises are healed,” Winchester reminded her.

“Fustian, I had forgotten that.” Lady Annalise brightened. “But I believe Mama and Portia plan to attend Mrs. Davis’s party this evening. I expect Miss Outwood will be there. Portia could ask her.”

“No, that wouldn’t be wise,” Winchester said. “If von Hessel overhears the conversation, he will know we suspect him. He knows you were abducted in error, Anna, and will expect us to try and discover why.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She wrinkled her pert little nose. “How very disobliging of him.”

Winchester laughed. “Patience, Trouble. Romsey will get to the bottom of this affair, given time. I have every confidence in his abilities.”

“As do I.”

“Thank you.” Clarence bit back a smile. “I shall endeavour not to disappoint you both.”

Lady Annalise indulged her enticing habit of biting her lower lip, seeming to forget it was cut. Clarence found the gesture very sensual and hoped she did not notice his inappropriate reaction to it. Damnation, he had no right to entertain the possibilities that sprang to mind but, for once, was unable to discipline his thoughts to matters of actual fact. Or rather, he was. Lady Annalise biting her lower lip was an exceedingly arousing.

Fact.

“Botheration, I so wanted to suggest something that would be of use,” she said.

“She wants to go to the east end and see if she can identify the warehouse where she was held,” Winchester said. “Are you willing to take her, Romsey?”

Clarence was surprised by the question, and more so by Winchester’s readiness to go along with the plan. Astonishingly, it did not sound as though he planned to be a member of the excursion. “Her suggestion has your approval?”

Winchester slanted a resigned glance in Clarence’s direction. “She can be very determined.”

“Do you think she is well enough to withstand the emotional trauma?”

Winchester lifted his shoulders. “She is insufferably stubborn when she decides upon a course of action.”

“Well then, if I have your permission, we might as well attempt it. We have made precious little progress elsewhere.”

“Even if you find the warehouse, I suspect the owner will be ignorant about the use to which it was put.”

“You are probably right, but there has to be a reason why it was selected. Perhaps the men who actually carried out the abduction have some connection with it.”

“That’s true enough, but with regard to Anna—”

“Oh, for goodness sake, you two. Would you please stop talking about me as though I was not in the room, or perfectly capable of speaking for myself?”

Clarence’s lips quirked. “I apologise, Lady Annalise.”

“Apology accepted. Now, we are wasting time. I would like to leave before Mama discovers our plan. She is bound to make difficulties if she learns of it.” Lady Annalise stood up. “If you will give me a moment, Lord Romsey, I shall fetch my outdoor garments and we can leave at once.”

Clarence stood also, watching her as she bustled from the room, wondering what he had just committed himself to and whether he had the fortitude to withstand the experience without disgracing himself.

“Try not to lose her this time, Romsey,” Winchester said in an indolent tone.

***

Fanny awaited Anna in the adjoining small sitting room, Anna’s bonnet and warmest pelisse at the ready. Mama, Portia and Frankie were changing into afternoon gowns in anticipation of receiving callers, and Anna didn’t wish to be seen by her mother, wearing her outdoor clothing. The bonnet she had selected sported a small half-veil that partially concealed Anna’s bruises and, hopefully, added an air of sophistication to her appearance. Lord Romsey obviously thought her a silly young girl, and she intended to prove him wrong. She was already wearing her thickest wool walking gown and warm half-boots. Her pelisse was fur-lined vivid blue velvet with matching muff. She donned her bonnet first, then the pelisse and her gloves.

With her hands tucked into her muff, she was as ready as she would ever be for her first sortie outside since her abduction. Was that only two nights ago? If felt like half a lifetime. Well, she thought, as she adjusted the angle of her bonnet, at least one good thing had come out of it. She would never have been permitted to ride in a carriage with Lord Romsey—alone with Lord Romsey—under any other circumstances.

She found Zach and Lord Romsey awaiting her in the vestibule. The latter gave her person an approving look, which imbued Anna with much needed confidence. Clearly, he was not quite as immune to her appearance as he would have her believe.

“Are you warm enough, Trouble?” Zach asked.

“Yes, don’t worry. I am perfectly sure Lord Romsey will take care of me.”

“He had better,” Zach muttered in an undertone that Lord Romsey was clearly supposed to hear.

Faraday’s expression was impassive as he opened the front door, but Anna knew him well enough to discern disapproval beneath his bland features. Why was everyone in this household so determined to blame Lord Romsey for the fate that had befallen her? It was most unreasonable of them, and she felt a strong urge to protect him from his detractors. His only crime was dedication to King and country; a circumstance which Anna fully intended to alter, starting with this opportunity she had created for herself.

“The weather is a little warmer today, Lady Annalise,” Lord Romsey said, taking her elbow and escorting her down the front steps. “And my carriage is very warm.”

He led her to the conveyance and helped her inside. Naturally, he took the seat with his back to the horses, having first insisted upon tucking a blanket over her knees.

“Thank you,” she said as the person she recognised from the fateful night of her abduction as Lord Romsey’s secretary drove the carriage off at a steady trot. Clearly, he was a man of many talents. She was equally sure the tough looking individual who had opened the carriage door for them and then hopped up behind was more than a mere groom. Lord Romsey was taking every possible precaution.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

No!
“Perfectly so, I thank you, but it might serve better if you sat beside me.” She waved a gloved hand in dismissal of the protest she sensed him formulating. “Oh, I know that is not the accustomed way, what with your not being my husband or related to me. But these circumstances are rather extraordinary. I want you to see the same view as me at the same time, just in case something looks familiar.”

He sent her a speaking look, and she thought at first he would refuse. Then, with one of those lopsided smiles of his that gave his normally impassive, albeit brutally handsome countenance the boyish appearance that so appealed to her, he did as she asked. She was immediately conscious of his muscular thigh in very close proximity to her own, of the breadth of his shoulders, and the raw masculine power that emanated from him. Anna’s insides churned with a bewildering paradox of pleasure and deep longing. Far from being too cold, she suddenly felt overheated and wondered at her stupidity in not bringing a fan with her.

“Is everything all right, Lady Annalise?” he asked in a provocative tone that implied he knew perfectly well the effect he had upon her.

Anna tilted her chin, prepared to play him at his own game. At least for now. “Indeed. You have made me very comfortable.”

His gloved hand briefly covered one of her own. “I realise just how difficult this must be for you, but if it becomes too much we can turn back at any time. You have nothing to prove to anyone.” He lowered his voice to a compelling purr. “Certainly not to me. I admire your courage, and your bravery.”

But not me?

Anna swallowed. “Perhaps I need to prove something to myself,” she said softly.

“Yes, I can understand why you might feel that way.” He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned away to stare at the passing streets. “You say you found yourself and your cob in Piccadilly. Can you recall which street you approached it from?”

“No, I have been trying to think, but I must have been delirious by that point, and it was Betty who found the way.”

“Betty?”

“That is what I have decided to call my cob. The name suits her.”

He smiled. “Betty it is then.”

“I’m sorry it’s all such a blank.”

“Don’t give it another thought.”

They left the smarter part of town behind them and Pierce slowed the carriage to walking pace as the streets got progressively narrower. Anna’s breath hitched in her throat, her fear palpable as the reality of what she had agreed to do was brought into startling clarity by the scenes outside the carriage window. As though sensing her anxiety, Lord Romsey removed one glove and ran his forefinger down her bruised face with a feather light touch that made her insides melt with raw desire.

“My brave, Annalise,” he muttered softly. “So beautiful. You do not deserve this.”

“Anna,” she replied. “Everyone calls me Anna.”

“But I shall not. You have a beautiful name that suits you.” The pad of his thumb traced the line of her lips so gently she could almost have imagined his touch. “Why would I wish to shorten it?”

He thinks I am beautiful
. His words imbued Anna with renewed courage. She tore her gaze away from his face and the blazing intensity she thought she observed in his eyes. The streets were crowded with vendors, urchins, people bundled up against the cold, hurry about their business, and all imaginable forms of transport—everything from handcarts to fine carriages such as theirs. The roads were noisy, dirty and very different to her recollection of the cold misery two nights’ previously. Even so, she knew that misery was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the sun to go down so it could continue to wreak havoc.

“We really have to do something,” she said, shaking her head and brushing aside tears.