Simply Voracious (24 page)

“Major Wesley, a pleasure.”

“Likewise.” Thomas took a seat by the fire and rubbed his hands together. “It is damned chilly out there today. I miss the warmer climate of India.”

“Would you prefer something hot to drink?” Con inquired. “Some punch or a hot toddy, perhaps?”

“That would be delightful.”

Con instructed Gregor, and then took the seat opposite Thomas and waited for his visitor to get comfortable enough to disclose his errand. It occurred to him that Thomas Wesley was a very handsome man. Con almost wished he could convince himself to take him to bed, but it wouldn’t be fair. In Con’s mind there was only the slim strength and fair skin of Paul St. Clare.

“I hope you don’t mind me bothering you, Delinsky, but I wanted to give you the news as soon as I could.”

“What news would that be?” Con asked.

“Well, after our last conversation when you told me about your missing wife, I had occasion to visit the Russian embassy. I put your problem, quite anonymously of course, to the ambassador, and asked him what a man could do in such circumstances.”

“That was very kind of you, my friend.”

Thomas smiled. “He said he would look into the matter for me, and I’m awaiting his reply. He did say that after the terrible events of the war, your situation was not as uncommon as you might think. Thousands of people have disappeared or been misplaced, and it is the devil’s own job finding out what has happened to them.”

“I’m sure, which is why I haven’t instigated such a search before. My needs are far less pressing than many.”

“Because you don’t want to marry again anyway, eh? And being married gives you some protection from the matchmakers of the
ton.
”

“Exactly, sir.”

Gregor appeared with two steaming glasses, which smelled strongly of whiskey, ginger, and cloves, and handed one to each man.

Thomas inhaled deeply. “Ah, that smells wonderful. The reason why I called in person is because I’m off to the Russian embassy this afternoon. I thought you might wish to accompany me there to see if there is any news.”

“I was about to go out riding myself, so I suppose I could accompany you.”

“You don’t sound too keen on the idea, old chap.” Thomas finished off his punch. “If it bothers you, I can call off my hounds, and tell the ambassador the matter has been resolved to your satisfaction.”

Con thought about that and then glanced down at the letter addressed to his mother. Shame rose over him at his continued aversion to all things Russian. He could at least do this for his family. It was one matter he could set to rest, which would benefit them all.

He finished off his punch in one swallow. “I’ll come with you. Just let me find my hat and my gloves.”

Con looked warily around the entrance hall of the embassy and marveled at the sound of Russian voices echoing around him. He only spoke Russian to Gregor these days, but it was still so ingrained in him that he understood every word. Of course, the Russian nobility spoke mostly French, but as a child he’d heard nothing but Russian from the servants and serfs at his family home.

“You may come up, sirs. Count Lieven will receive you in his office.”

For a moment, the English was jarring before Con collected himself and followed Thomas up the stairs. The Russian ambassador rose as they entered the room and bowed.

“Major Wesley, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

Thomas saluted. “Indeed it is, sir. May I introduce Lieutenant Colonel Constantine Delinsky?”

Count Lieven came around his desk and held out his hand to Con. He lapsed into Russian. “There is no need for such formality between us, Delinsky. I believe my aunt is related to one of your second cousins.”

Con shook the proffered hand, and then found himself being embraced and kissed in the more traditional Russian style. From habit he returned the salutation and mumbled something appropriate in Russian before stepping back. The ambassador resumed his seat behind the desk, and Con and Thomas sat down.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing Delinsky along with me this afternoon, but he was particularly interested in your response to the problem I put to you a few days ago.”

“In truth, ambassador”—as Thomas drew breath, Con spoke over him—“I am the one who needs to find out what happened to my wife.”

“Ah.” Count Lieven looked thoughtful.

Thomas half rose from his seat. “Do you want me to leave you in peace, Delinsky?”

“No, I’d rather you stayed. Your advice is always useful.”

Thomas subsided, and Con turned back to the ambassador.

“My wife was residing in Moscow, and she refused to leave despite being told of the French advance. As far as I understand it, she was still there when the French arrived. By the time I got back to Moscow after the French abandoned it, there was nothing left of our house but a smoking ruin.”

“Do you believe she died in the fire?”

Con exhaled. “That would be the easiest explanation, but I fear the truth is not that simple. There were rumors that Natasha had found herself a lover among the French officers, and that she might have left with the French army.”

“She might have left with the army, Delinsky, but precious few of the French survived the retreat; you know that.”

“I do, ambassador. I was sent on many a scouting party to count the bodies of our enemies.” Con sighed. “I never found Natasha though, or discovered any further word of her.”

Count Lieven folded his hands in front of him on the desk. “A sad tale, Delinsky, but not that uncommon. It’s a long time since Moscow was occupied. Considering your wife might have betrayed you with a Frenchman, why didn’t you simply assume she was dead and carry on?”

“She was very young, sir. I bear her no ill will. For her family’s sake, I’d prefer some kind of legal settlement of the matter for all concerned.”

“Quite understandable, Delinsky. I will share with you the information I intended to give Major Wesley. We will ask the Russian community here in London and our new allies at the French court to see if we can discover any trace of your wife. If we cannot, we can set about the legal process of declaring her dead. Once that is achieved, you will be a free man again.”

“Thank you, sir.” Con bowed his head. At least he could sort out this one thing, and please his mother. Although he had vowed never to marry again, it would also bring him peace.

Thomas rose to his feet, and Con followed suit. “Thank you, ambassador. You have been all that is gracious.”

Count Lieven spread his hands wide. “I am honored to help a countryman, especially one who has fought for his homeland and suffered great loss.” He smiled. “I will contact you by the end of the month with the results of my preliminary investigation.”

“Thank you.” Con bowed deeply again, and he and Thomas were shown out into the hallway. It wasn’t until they were out of the residence that Thomas turned to speak to him.

“Delinsky, you look quite white around the gills. Let’s stop at my club and have something to drink.”

Con allowed Thomas to lead him where he wanted. For a so-called man of action, Con realized he dreaded change. Was that why he’d been so slow to deal with the complications of Natasha’s death? Or was Thomas right, and he’d preferred to keep his marital status to ward off other women?

He handed his hat and gloves to the footman at the door of the club and followed Thomas into the warm, smoke-filled depths of the building. Waiting for news from the ambassador would be difficult, but he’d waited for over a decade to settle this. A few more weeks would hardly make a difference.

“Still no sign of your monthly, my lady,” Milly said brightly. She winked at Lucky. “Maybe you are already carrying another heir to the dukedom.”

Lucky managed a weak smile and unconsciously rubbed her stomach. Her cycle had never been very regular, but there was no denying that she hadn’t bled since the night Jeremy had forced her. And that was almost two months ago. The notion that she might be carrying his child made her feel nauseous.

Lucky sat down as Milly began to pin up her hair. But what if it was Paul’s child? It was a possibility. She should have waited to make certain before she had insisted on Paul sharing her bed. Her gaze dropped to the strange letter she had received from Jeremy. She still couldn’t believe he would let her be so easily.

She sighed and stared at her wan reflection. There were so many things that weren’t right in her world, and she wasn’t sure if she could fix any of them. Paul had confessed to an attachment to Lieutenant Colonel Delinsky and then refused to do anything about it, Jeremy had stopped threatening her, and she might be carrying a child whose father was unknown.

“Cheer up, my lady, it is a beautiful day,” Milly said as she deftly pinned Lucky’s curls in place. “You should go out for a walk and get some color into your cheeks.”

“Perhaps I will do that,” Lucky replied.

One of the things her father had always taught her was to break problems down into smaller pieces and conquer them individually. She’d already invited Lieutenant Colonel Delinsky for dinner and would endeavor to find out how he felt about Paul. She hoped he might be willing to be honest with her, but even just seeing the two men together would give her a better idea of how to deal with the situation.

She could do nothing about the possibility of being pregnant, but she could write a note to Jeremy and ask him to confirm what he’d said in his last letter. She needed to be sure that he’d meant what he’d said. She was suspicious that he’d been coerced into writing that note and wouldn’t abide by its dictates for long.

She smiled into the mirror and Milly smiled back at her. “Feeling better, my lady?”

“Indeed I am, Milly. I need to write a letter, and then I’m going to see if my mother has any errands for me, so go and put your bonnet on.”

19

“I
know. I’m late, Gregor.”

Con went straight into his bedchamber and started to unbutton his coat and waistcoat. He’d spent most of the day with the Duke of Wellington’s staff, and had barely managed to escape in time to dress for dinner with the St. Clares. He stripped off his shirt and breeches and turned to find Gregor offering him a bowl of hot water, soap, and a drying cloth.

“Thank you.” Con busied himself washing as much of his skin as he could manage. Being so fair, he rarely had to shave, which in this instance was a blessing.

Gregor had already laid out his best dress uniform on the bed, and Con hurried to put it on. At least wearing a uniform meant he avoided spending two hours folding his cravat like some men.

“I’ve already hired you a hackney, sir. I assumed you wouldn’t wish to take your own horses out in this weather.”

“You are indeed a treasure, Gregor. Please, don’t wait up for me.” Con snatched up his hat, cloak, and gloves and headed for the door. On the silver tray he noticed a sealed letter, and he took it with him to read. He gave the driver his direction and settled back on the cracked leather seat.

It was already dark and most of the streetlamps had been lit, spreading meager pools of light among the gloom. It wasn’t far to Haymore House, but as the cold crept over him, Con wished he’d brought a scarf.

He opened the letter, scanned the sentences, and frowned.
What the devil?

“Haymore House, guv,” the driver called down.

Con searched for some coins, paid the driver, and found himself standing in front of the towering mansion. He ascended the steps, his thoughts still caught up in his mysterious letter. The door opened as he approached, and the Haymore butler welcomed him by name.

“Please come in, Lieutenant Colonel. Her ladyship is awaiting you in the small drawing room.”

It didn’t occur to Con that he might be the only guest until he was ushered into the room and discovered his hostess sitting alone by the fireside. She rose to her feet, her expression apprehensive, and held out her hand.

“It’s so kind of you to come, Lieutenant Colonel. I’m afraid Paul has been delayed.”

Con realized he was still holding the offending letter in his hand and hastily stuffed it into his pocket.

“Good evening, my lady.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “If this is inconvenient, do you wish me to leave?”

“Oh, no, not unless you have to, sir. I’d be happy to share my evening with you until Paul arrives.”

“Then I’ll stay. It will be an honor.”

Lady Lucinda smiled up at him, and he was struck again by the calm openness of her face and the directness of her gaze. She might appear quite young, but he sensed a maturity in her blue eyes that spoke to him. She was charmingly attired in a yellow silk gown with blond lace that suited her perfectly. He wasn’t surprised that Paul had wanted to help her. After all, he’d had the same desire when he’d encountered her at the ball.

“Are you sure that everything is all right, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“I apologize if I seem a little distracted. I just received a rather strange letter.”

“Strange in what way?”

“The person who wrote it didn’t sign it.”

She shivered. “That is horrible. Do you have any idea who it was from?”

He forced a smile. “My problems can hardly be of interest to you, my lady. Shall we talk about something else?”

“If you wish, sir, but I’m quite happy to help you puzzle out who sent you the note.”

His smile now was genuine. “Paul said you had an inquiring mind. Are you sure I’m not boring you?”

A footman appeared at the door and announced that dinner was being served. Con took Lady Lucinda’s arm and walked through into a small paneled dining room lit by two branches of candelabra. The upper walls were covered in faded red silk and the lower level paneled in oak. The embroidery on the chairs matched the walls and gave the room a lovely, homely feel.

Lady Lucinda glanced up at him as he pulled out a chair and waited for her to sit. “What did your peculiar note say?”

“I’d let you read it, but it is written in Russian.”

She held out her hand. “I speak Russian and French. My father thought it was important for me to be able to talk to anyone.”