Romancing the Earl (10 page)

For the first time she looked at him with something akin to interest. “I’m sure you’ll be an excellent earl. Your father always thought very highly of you. He’d be very proud to see how you comported yourself as an officer.” No mention of how she felt, but he supposed this was as close as she’d ever come to praising him.

With a gentle nod, she moved past him.

Elijah cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Matthew died. I would’ve preferred for things to remain as they were.”

She turned to look at him. “You were happy across the world?”

He thought of his simple life in Australia—his small house, his horse, his mistress. “I was.”

She said nothing, just blinked at him and left.

Elijah wondered if Denkins would return or if he’d have to go in search of the butler. After a moment, he went toward the door, but then Denkins appeared.

“Mrs. Hollister said you wished to speak with me.”

“Yes. When my brother visited, he brought his valet, a chap called Mason. Do you recall why he left before Matthew?”

“Let me think, my lord.” Denkins stared at the window while he pondered. “It was some sort of errand, but I don’t know the details. His lordship put him on a post chaise to Worcester.”

Worcester . . . They’d grown up near there . . . A thought sparked in Elijah’s mind. Could Mason have taken the map and hidden it?
Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Elijah was more keen than ever to speak with Mason. Bradford was a short ride southeast of Bath. Finding Mason there would be a boon, but Elijah doubted he’d be that lucky. At best, he hoped to speak with Mason’s family and hopefully run the valet to ground.

“Thank you, Denkins, you’ve been most helpful.” Plucking his hat from the settee, he dashed from the house. And stopped short at the sight of Miss Bowen and her ever-present companion awaiting him on the sidewalk.

Cate tensed as she watched Norris come toward them. She couldn’t exactly read his tight expression, but he looked somewhat anxious. Like as not, he was annoyed to find her and Grey waiting for him. She summoned her most charming smile in an attempt to soothe any discontent. “Good morning, Lord Norris. Did you receive my note?”

He stopped, eyeing them deliberately. “Yes. I’ve been busy. Come, let us not stand in front of my mother’s house.” He said this with such distaste that Cate assumed he was even more irritated by her arrival than she’d thought.

“Shall we take a walk?” Cate suggested.

Norris glanced up at the steel-gray sky. “It’s going to rain.”

“Not for a bit.” Cate had spent enough time outside to anticipate the weather with a good amount of accuracy.

“A short one around the block,” Norris said. “I’ve things to do.”

She cast him an inquisitive look as they started out along the sidewalk. “Things you plan to tell me about?”

Grey followed behind them, close enough to probably hear most of what they said. If not, Cate would fill her in later.

Realizing he didn’t mean to answer her question, which she took as an answer—
no
—she attempted a hopefully informative conversation. “How was your visit with your mother?”

He spared her a brief glance. “Blessedly short.”

“That’s all? Have you nothing else to share?”

He looked over at her as they strolled. “What about you, Miss Bowen? What have you to share?”

She wished he wasn’t so irritable. “Nothing yet, but then I didn’t just come from an interview that may have yielded information about our objectives.”

They’d reached the end of the street and the river. He paused and turned to face her. “And just what are ‘our’ objectives?”

She stopped with him and pivoted so she could look him in the eye. “You wish to determine the circumstances of your brother’s death, and I wish to find the tapestry.”

“I also wish to find the tapestry.”

Did that mean he wouldn’t allow her to buy it? She pretended to be obtuse. “So you can sell it to me.”

His mouth flattened into a grim line. “That remains to be seen.”

Frustration eroded her attempt to remain pleasant. She’d been foolish to think they were perhaps working together with common interests. “I don’t appreciate your tone or demeanor this morning. I’ve done nothing to warrant your disdain.”

“Am I being disdainful?” He looked beyond her for a moment, then exhaled. “My apologies. Visiting my mother is a stressful occasion.”

She felt instantly contrite.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She loved her parents more than anything and couldn’t imagine having a cool relationship, as it seemed he did with his mother. This made her unaccountably sad for him. “Why is it stressful?”

He looked at her in surprise. “It . . . it just is.”

She touched the sleeve of his coat. “I should be happy to listen. Perhaps that will ease your stress.” She curved her lips into a gentle smile.

He stared at her as if he couldn’t quite make sense of her offer. “I . . . thank you. I’d rather not speak of her, if you don’t mind. Let us focus our energies on things that matter.”

His mother didn’t matter? Her heart ached for him and whatever had caused such cold feelings toward the woman who’d raised him.
 

She didn’t wish to make him uncomfortable and so she dropped the topic of conversation—for now. She made a mental note to pursue it at a later date. She always felt better after unburdening herself to her friends. He would undoubtedly feel the same. “I’ve arranged for us to visit Septon House today. As it happens, Septon is hosting a gathering at present, not quite a country-house party, since the focus is on the discussion of antiquities, but there will be typical amusements such as picnics and dancing. We shall have ample time to speak with him about the men who visited your brother.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not entirely sure I wish to do that. I’m afraid I don’t trust anyone at the moment. The situation has become a bit more complicated.”

Had he learned something new? “Because of your meeting with your mother? I do hope you’ll share what you discovered. You
can
trust me. We want the same things.”

His gaze was skeptical, as it often was. “I’m not certain we do.”

“We do,” she said firmly. “I want to identify the men who sought to purchase the tapestry as much as you do. I need to know who else is aware of this map and the fact that it leads to Dyrnwyn. I’d also like to know if there is danger. No, I
need
to know that too.”

He exhaled as he turned and retraced their path. “There was a robbery at my mother’s house after Matthew died. Some silver went missing, but I don’t think that’s what they were looking for.”

“You think they were after the tapestry.” Alarm spread through her, tightening her frame. “Did they find it?”

“It’s impossible to know, unfortunately. I do, however, plan to make another inquiry this afternoon.”

He did? “Where?”

He cocked a brow at her. “I do not recall that we agreed to share every bit of information with each other.” He continued toward where her coach was parked, just beyond his mother’s house. “I believe I felt a raindrop.”

A fat droplet landed on Cate’s arm. “Perhaps Grey and I will follow you on your errand this afternoon.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” He seemed to have lost a bit of his irritability as they lapsed back into their habit of provoking each other. “Very well. Wade and I will be journeying to Bradford to speak with the family of Matthew’s former valet. I believe he might know something about the tapestry, if not its location.”

Cate was relieved to hear the trail wasn’t completely lost. “We’ll accompany you.”

“I didn’t offer an invitation. Wade and I will conduct the inquiry on our own, and I
promise
to share the results with you when we reach Septon House.”

She preferred to go with him, but she wouldn’t press the matter, not in his current agitated state. Perhaps she and Grey would stop in Bradford on their way to Septon House. They might become thirsty after all . . . “Thank you. Who’s Wade?”

“My valet.” He glanced back at Grey walking behind them. “Think of him as my version of Grey, minus the chaperone part.”

They’d arrived at Cate’s coach. The drops began to fall more frequently, but it still wasn’t full-out rain yet. Cate’s footman opened the carriage door.

Norris looked at Cate. “I’ll see you at Septon House later, then, and we’ll continue our investigation.”

He’d said
our
. Maybe they were working together after all.

Cate blinked against the rain. “Are we a team, then?”

He looked at her, and the heat of his blue-gray gaze warmed her. He was familiar now, not quite a friend, but something more than a mere acquaintance. “You aren’t going to leave me alone until you obtain that map.”

It was a statement of absolute certainty. He sounded as if he appreciated her tenacity, which only heated her further. Something pushed her to move just a hairsbreadth closer. “Do you want me to?”

His nostrils flared slightly, but it was his only visible reaction. The other response was his delayed exhalation, as if his breath had just caught. “I haven’t decided. I’m concerned about the well-being of anyone in pursuit of this tapestry.”

“Yet another reason for us to band together.” A huge raindrop splashed against her nose as she looked up at him.

“You should go,” he said, reaching out to swipe the moisture from her face. Though his gloves kept the touch from being flesh to flesh, it still felt intimate.

Quickly, before she could think too long about her reaction, she climbed into the coach, swiftly followed by Grey. “See you this evening.”

The footman closed the door and the rain began to fall in earnest, hitting the roof of the vehicle with a steady pit-a-pat. Cate caught sight of Norris jogging back to his own coach, which waited in front of his mother’s house. She settled back against the seat as they moved forward.

“You looked friendly with him.” Grey’s voice was carefully monotone.

Cate glanced at her and made a noncommittal noise.

“You like him,” Grey said.

“I
need
him. There’s a difference.”

“The last time I saw you behave in this manner was with Iscove.”

Cate scowled. “Don’t say his name.” He’d been a fortune hunter, not that she’d known it straightaway. She’d been taken in by his silver tongue and gilded looks. He’d encouraged her antiquarian activities and hadn’t cared that she was a woman. In fact, that had inspired and attracted him—or so he’d said. Cate had been utterly foolish to fall for him, even for a short time.

Grey held up her hand. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t tell you what I saw?”

“Norris is nothing like him. He’s autocratic”—though perhaps less so than when they’d first met—“suspicious, secretive . . . The list goes on.”

“Does he still seem secretive? He did tell you about the robbery and his brother’s valet. He appears to be trustworthy.”

Cate fixed her companion with a perturbed stare. She wanted to argue, but was afraid Grey was right. With a resigned sigh, she looked back out the window at the falling rain. “I have to trust him, and it’s in his best interest to trust me. But if we can find our way to the map, I won’t have any further need of him.”

“But you’ll still like him.”

“Oh, do stop, please. Why does everyone insist on trying to pair us off?”

Grey shrugged. “I wasn’t. Just observing.”

Cate was past ready to change the subject. “I wonder if we should try to get back into the secret library tonight?”

“I’d wondered the same thing. I’m up for it, if you are.”

Cate nodded. “The single page of information by de Valery is suspect—I have to think there are more like it. Perhaps something that would tell us how to read the map.” Once they found the tapestry, they had to figure out how it was a map. It looked like a battle scene and nothing else. She’d never seen the back, however. It was possible the map was there.

“We’ll go after dinner, while everyone is surveying Septon’s latest acquisitions.”

“And what about Norris?” Grey asked, her gaze probing across the dim interior of the coach.

“What about him? He’s not invited to join us in our search.”