The Dark Earl (46 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Dark Earl
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His eyes searched her face. “I’m not so gullible. He’s asking the ridiculous price of two thousand apiece for them, so I’m ignoring him.” He closed the distance between them. “Let me do that.” He unfastened the back of her gown and dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck. When she stepped out of her gown, he untied her corset strings.
“That price is outrageous! He said he’d likely see you tomorrow night.”
He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. “Promise me you won’t even think about the rapacious swine.”
She watched him undress. “I promise.”
He slipped into bed and enfolded her against his heart. Once the kissing began, it was easy for Harry to forget everything else.
In the middle of the night, however, as she lay awake against her sleeping husband, it was not so easy to keep her promise. In her mind’s eye, she relived Marlborough’s visit, and examined every word he had said. Like a silent whisper, she heard the name
Solange.
 
 
When morning arrived, it completely banished the darklings, and Harry laughed at her foolish fancies. She made a decision to keep the unsavory Duke of Marlborough out of her thoughts. From now on she would trust Thomas to deal with him, and was confident that her husband would find a way to acquire the beloved centaurs.
After breakfast, she got a note from Trixy letting her know that she’d had no more bouts of nausea and would pick her up and take her to Langham Place this evening. Harry looked forward to the meeting. The topic of conversation would be politics, and she would be able to voice her opinions on who would be the next prime minister. If it was her uncle Lord John Russell, she was sure he would present their petitions to Parliament regarding married women’s property rights.
 
At the end of the month the Abercorns held a family dinner at Hampden House before they left for Ireland. Trixy and D’Arcy, who were returning to Durham shortly, arrived at the same time as Harry and Thomas. John Russell and his wife, Fanny, were also invited.
At the dinner table the primary conversation was politics. “I understand that the queen asked the leader of the opposition, Lord Derby, to become her prime minister and form a government.” Abercorn looked at John for confirmation.
“True, but when Derby asked Palmerston to become secretary at war, he politely declined, making it impossible for Derby to form a government.”
Harry’s eyes lit with excitement. “Then did the queen invite
you
to become her prime minister?”
“As a matter of fact, she did. However, when I asked Palmerston to become my secretary at war, he once more respectfully declined. So I thanked Her Majesty profusely for the great honor, and told her it was impossible for me to become the next prime minister.”
Harry’s face fell. “Why didn’t Palmerston cooperate?”
“My dear, we had a gentleman’s agreement. Lord Palmerston deserves to be prime minister, and I back him wholeheartedly. This morning the queen asked him to form a government. Though reluctant, she had no choice.”
“A pox on
gentleman’s agreements
! It’s outrageous how easily men can manipulate a woman—even the queen.” Harry looked pointedly at all the males at the table.
“Since you backed Palmerston, what are you getting in return?” the duchess asked shrewdly.
“I shall be going to Vienna for the peace talks to end the war.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” Harry declared, and they all had a good laugh.
After dinner, Harry took Jane aside and gave her an envelope. “I’ve written Rachel a long letter. Be sure to give her my love, and find out if she’s finished the story about the lady who was given in marriage to settle a gambling debt.”
“What a scandalous thing to do. How could her story have a happy ending if the bride was no more than a pawn?”
Harry smiled knowingly. “Love conquers all.”
Chapter Twenty-four
 
“I
’m keeping my fingers crossed that spring will come early. I know it’s only the middle of March, but the sparrows are already building their nests.” Harry was in her dressing room, deciding which clothes she would take with her to Shugborough. “I’d like you to come with me, Rose. Staffordshire is so lovely.”
“I’d like to come, Lady Harry, but if you stay all summer, my family would sorely miss my visits.”
“We have to come back to London at the beginning of May for my sister Jane’s debutante ball, so we’ll only stay for April. Hopefully Thomas and I can go back later. You don’t have to decide right away.” She handed Rose her jade velvet evening gown, then began to sort through her riding dresses.
“Will one gown be enough, Lady Harry?”
“I think so. We are not formal at Shugborough. I need country clothes and day dresses, sturdy walking shoes and riding boots. There are a few books in the library I’m taking. They can go at the bottom of my trunk. While I’m thinking of it, I’ll get Norton to bring it from the attic.”
Harry went downstairs and heard voices coming from the library. She remembered Thomas had mentioned his attorney was coming.
I should say hello to Simon Kendall.
Her footsteps slowed.
Perhaps I shouldn’t disturb them.
As she hesitated, she heard Kendall say, “I have renewed the lease on the Shepherd Market house.”
I didn’t know Thomas had any leased property.
A picture of the striking-looking woman she had seen in Shepherd Market flashed into her mind. Then she heard Kendall say, “The lease on the other property comes due May first. Do you wish me to renew it?”
Thomas replied, “I’m not sure. I’m seriously considering giving it up, but it will depend on what Solange decides to do.”
Solange.
The name filled Harry with disquiet. She hurried past the library and went in search of Norton. When she found him in the dining room polishing silver, she looked at him blankly. “Ah, now I remember. Would you please find my traveling trunk and take it to my dressing room?”
Clara appeared at the door carrying a tray. “Will you take your afternoon tea in your sitting room, Lady Harry?”
“Tea?” She made an effort to gather her thoughts. “Yes, thank you, Clara.”
As she sipped her tea absently, her thoughts chased one another in circles.
I believed Thomas put any money he had into Shugborough. I didn’t know he leased properties in London. What else don’t I know?
Harry shook her head.
Stop being ridiculous!
But the silent whisper grew louder:
Solange.
She tried to dismiss her suspicious thoughts.
She is his associate.
Harry thought of her husband’s affiliation with Whitfield Cox.
Solange must be an associate in the art dealership.
She put her cup and saucer back on the tray, and examined her emotions.
Could it be jealousy? Is that what I’m feeling?
She dismissed the idea as nonsense. She could not possibly be jealous of someone she didn’t know and had never met.
I’m simply curious.
That night, and many nights following, Thomas was particularly attentive and tender with her. After making love, they talked about Shugborough. He told her that he had bought two suites of bedroom furnishings from Althorp that had come from Shugborough, and that he’d arranged to have them shipped from Northampton at the end of April.
In the last few days, Harry had successfully pushed away all thoughts of jealousy. She smiled into the darkness. “I can’t wait to see the daffodils in the riverside garden.”
 
 
The next morning, Harry went to the library to gather the books she intended to take to Shugborough. As she passed her husband’s desk, she paused to read a notation he’d made on his calendar:
Lease renewal.
Her thoughts came flooding back. Thomas and his attorney had spoken of the lease renewals in connection with Solange.
I’m not jealous of his associate—I’m simply curious.
A picture of the woman she’d seen in Shepherd Market came unbidden.
My imagination is playing tricks on me. Because I don’t know what Solange looks like, I picture the woman I saw in Shepherd Market.
By lunchtime, the silent whispers had magnified. Questions to which she had no answers taunted her. In the early afternoon, Harry decided there was only one way to satisfy her curiosity. She put on her hat and coat, and took a hackney to Oxford Street.
She went into Whitfield Cox, the fine-art dealer’s, and looked around the showroom.
A gentleman came forward to greet her. “Good afternoon, madam. May I be of service to you?”
She smiled. “Thank you. I’m here to see one of your associates recommended by a friend. Her name is Solange.”
“I’m sorry, madam,” he said politely, “Whitfield Cox has no associate by that name, but I would be more than happy to show you any of our paintings or artifacts. As well as this showroom, we have a large warehouse of fine-art pieces.”
Harry clutched at straws. “Perhaps Solange is employed at the warehouse.”
“I’m afraid not, madam. Whitfield Cox has no female associates.”
“I see. . . . My friend must have been mistaken.” She turned to leave. “Good afternoon.”
Outside, Harry glanced up at the sign to make sure it said WHITFIELD COX. She had been prepared for Solange to be absent, but the man had obviously never heard of her.
Bugger and balls! That was a complete waste of time.
On the ride home, Harry thought about Simon Kendall.
He would be able to tell me who Solange is.
She decided that it was impossible to question her husband’s attorney. It would prove that she didn’t trust Thomas.
That night, her husband worked late in the library, catching up on paperwork before their sojourn to Shugborough. Harry did not take him the usual jug of ale to lure him from his desk, and when Thomas finally came up to bed, she pretended to be asleep.
 
 
Harry spent a fitful night, and in the morning, though she could not recall her dreams, they left her feeling out of sorts. She brightened when Rose told her she would like to come to Shugborough.
“I’m so glad, Rose. As well as warm things, you must pack some lighter clothes. The weather is already mild, and I’m convinced that Staffordshire will have some lovely sunny days in April.”
The minute Rose left the room, Harry lapsed into thoughts of Solange, and yesterday’s futile attempts to meet her and satisfy her curiosity. Then her memory took her back to Marlborough’s visit.
He said Solange was my husband’s associate.
Her mouth went dry as her imagination led inexorably to thoughts she had tried to avoid.
Marlborough insinuated that Solange was my husband’s mistress.
Her mind conjured the conversation she’d overheard between Simon Kendall and Thomas.
“I have renewed the lease on the Shepherd Market house.”
A vivid picture of the woman she’d seen in Shepherd Market filled her head. She saw the striking woman step up into a coach. Harry could deny the truth no longer.
It was Thomas’s coach I saw in the rain that night.
 
 
At lunchtime, the knot in her stomach made it impossible for her to eat. She pushed her plate aside and left the table.
Perhaps if I lie down for a while, I will feel better.
But as she reclined quietly on the wide four-poster, she found it impossible to relax. She grew tenser by the minute as doubts and questions swirled about in her mind. After a half hour, she left the bed and decided that a long, warm bath would soothe and calm her nerves.
By three o’clock, Harry knew she must find out the truth or she would never again enjoy a peaceful moment. She went into her dressing room and carefully chose an outfit she knew was flattering. The amethyst wool dress had a matching cloak. She donned a smart gray hat adorned with violets.
On her way downstairs she encountered Clara, who looked surprised that she was going out. Then she remembered that it was Friday and that she didn’t usually leave for Langham Place until after dinner.
“I’ll be out for the rest of the day, Clara.”

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