The Elusive Wife (7 page)

Jason looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“Take a trip to Coventry. Talk to the woman. If it’s an annulment you desire, maybe she’ll be just as anxious to be rid of an absent husband as you are to be rid of an unwanted wife.”

Jason rubbed the nape of his neck. “It appears that’s the only thing I can do. It’s also time for me to meet with my estate manager anyway.”

Chapter Seven

Rain fell in torrents as the crested carriage rose to the top of the hill, then traveled the distance to the front entrance of Coventry Manor. Malcolm opened the door before Jason had alighted from his carriage.

He hurried down the stairs, holding an umbrella. “Good day, my lord.”

Jason nodded. “It’s good to be home.” They hurried, huddled under the umbrella to the foyer. Jason handed his gloves and hat to the butler, who then helped him with his wet coat.

“Please inform Lady Coventry I’ve arrived and I await her in the library.” He spoke over his shoulder as he started down the hall.

Jason stopped at Malcolm’s quickly drawn breath. “I’m sorry, my lord, but Lady Coventry is not at home.”

“Not at home?” Jason turned back, his eyebrows rising. Where could she be, in this terrible weather, and not knowing anyone? He wanted to get this conversation over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. “When is she expected?”

Confusion marked the man’s face. “My lord, I’m not sure. That is, I mean. . .”

Jason had never seen this long standing member of Coventry’s staff quite so flustered.

“What is it, man?” he retorted impatiently.

“Well, my lord, Lady Coventry has not been in residence for quite some time.”

Jason’s jaw dropped, his brows furrowed in confusion. “When did she leave? Where did she go?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I’m not quite sure where her ladyship went.”

“Not sure where she went? You mean she just sailed out of the house one day, never to return, and you hadn’t thought to notify me?” His eyes widened.

Malcolm drew himself up, obviously irritated at being questioned about the performance of his duties. “My lord, Lady Coventry had Evelyn, the upstairs maid, pack her belongings and then left for London. However, she did not state directly to me where in London she intended to go, and I assumed, wrongly it seems, that she planned to travel to your townhouse.”

“She did not come to Coventry House, unless we passed on the road. When did her ladyship leave?”

“More than three weeks ago, my lord.” The butler’s face had paled.

Jason sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Send me the man who drove her to London. I’ll be in the library.”

Getting something very strong to drink.

“As you wish, my lord.”

W
here the bloody hell is my wife? Why isn’t she here where I left her?

As he poured himself a brandy, he realized he would have to stop thinking of her in that way if he planned on requesting an annulment.

He sipped the brandy and walked to the large window, watching the rain create rivulets in the newly dug garden. He moved to his desk, then collapsed into the chair behind it and stared into space. What a muddle this thing had become.

“My lord?” Malcolm approached Jason’s desk in his usual quiet manner.

“Where’s the driver?” He clasped his hands and tapped his mouth with his index fingers.

“It seems the driver who took her ladyship to London has recently been dismissed, my lord.” Malcolm regarded him uneasily.

“Was he dismissed, by chance, for losing Lady Coventry?” Jason raised one mocking eyebrow.

The well-trained butler ignored the sarcasm. “No. He was dismissed by Mrs. Watkins for thievery.”

“Wonderful.” Jason made a shooing motion with his hand. “That will be all, Malcolm. Please have Cook fix something for me, and serve it in here. I need to go over some reports.”

The butler bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

What was he supposed to do now? His wife—
no, don’t think of her that way—
was somewhere in London. He would have to search her out, but at this point he didn’t know where she resided, or with whom. Then he choked on the last bit of brandy when he realized he did not even remember what she looked like.

Bloody hell!

That little fact should make the search interesting.

He leaned back and studied the raindrops sliding down the windowpane as he drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair. She obviously did not move about in society as Lady Coventry, or he would have heard about it.

Drat, this was supposed to be a simple matter!

Jason felt uncomfortable as he walked into the countess’s bed chamber, where he assumed she had slept while in residence. If she’d already been gone for some time, then she hadn’t been here very long at all, only a couple of weeks.

The smell of lavender still hung in the air. He didn’t remember that scent from his wedding, but then his memory of the event was nil. Jason opened drawers and closets, finding nothing, almost as if the whole encounter had been a dream. He didn’t remember her and nothing of hers remained here. Except the scent of lavender.

He gazed around the room trying desperately to remember something that might help find her. He grimaced. Asking the staff what she looked like was beyond the pale, even for him. After taking one more glance at the deserted room, he left.

Breakfast the next morning filled him with guilt. Lady Coventry had suffered this silence and neglect every day after he left her until she departed. What did she think about? Did she hate him, or not care one way or the other? Did he hurt her, or was she only too happy to have the title and money, and no husband to foist his attentions on her? Although, according to his solicitors, she hadn’t requested anything. Which led him to believe she must be residing in London with someone of means.

Jason’s concentration on the column of numbers he attempted to reconcile was broken by a light tap on the library door. Mrs. Watkins entered at his bid. Jason replaced his pen in the holder, and greeted the housekeeper.

“My lord, will you be wanting dinner at the usual time, or should I send a tray in here when you’re ready?”

“A tray in here will be fine, Mrs. Watkins. Shall we say around six o’clock?”

“As you wish, my lord.” She turned to go, and then Jason called her back.

“Mrs. Watkins, ah, how did Lady Coventry get on while she was here?”

“Oh, my lord, we are all so fond of her ladyship.” The older woman’s eyes glowed. “Truly a ray of sunshine. The tenants loved her as well.”

“The tenants?” His eyebrows rose inquiringly.

“Yes, my lord. She fancied going to the tenants and bringing some of Cook’s breads and sweets for the little ones. They all loved her.” She put her hands to her chest and sighed. “And the music! Oh, could she make music!”

“Music?” He was beginning to sound like a goddamn parrot.

“Her ladyship is a wonderful pianist, my lord. When she played, we would all stop to listen. It brought me to tears most times.” The woman wiped her eyes.

“But the pianoforte hasn’t been tuned in years.” He frowned.

“Oh, my lord, she tuned it herself. And she played like an angel.”

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable with this turn of events, he nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Watkins. That will be all.”

She inclined her head and left the room.

So her ladyship had captivated the tenants and staff? And everyone just loved her? Then why the deuce didn’t she stay put so he could get to know this paragon? No, she went traipsing off to London, staying heaven knows where, and now he had to chase her down like a dog on the hunt.

Three days later Jason felt confident enough in his dealings with his estate manager and the books they had gone over together to make the trip back to London. Even though he had given his staff enough leeway to discuss the missing Lady Coventry, the only thing he got for his trouble was the image of a beautiful, quiet, sensitive woman who caught the affection of everyone she encountered. And, of course, the delightful music no one failed to mention. Then he snorted, remembering the young buck who had called yesterday.

Jason had been busy at his desk when Malcolm entered the library.

“My lord, there is someone here asking after her ladyship.”

Jason looked up sharply and rolled the pen in his hand between two fingers. “Indeed. Who is the caller?”

Malcolm presented him with a calling card.

Sir Garrett Brooke, Coventry, England

Jason raised his eyebrows. “By all means, send Sir Brooke in.”

A tall, lanky gentleman, with dark blond hair and a skin color darker than most Englishmen, arrived within a minute. His confident walk belied any intimidation he might have had at presenting himself to the Earl.

“My lord.” He inclined his head.

“Please, have a seat.” Once his visitor settled himself, Jason continued, “I understand you asked after Lady Coventry?”

“Yes, my lord. My mother tells me she saw your coach arrive a few days ago, and I hoped her ladyship had accompanied you.” He flashed Jason a smile that had him wondering if Lady Coventry had been entertained by this young man’s smile and attentions while she cavorted around the countryside charming his tenants with her affection and sweets.

“Actually, Lady Coventry is not currently in residence. She is still in London.” He watched the other man’s expression closely to see what effect his information had on him. Sir Garret Brooke showed neither disappointment nor irritation.

No clue there.

“In that event, I’m sorry to have taken up your time, my lord. Please give my regard to her ladyship when you return to London. She is such a delightful woman. And her mus−“

Irritated, Jason stood. “I will be sure to make your visit known to her. Now if you will excuse me.”

The man hopped up, inclined his head, and left.

I will certainly relay your regard if I can find the blasted woman.

It appeared Lady Coventry had made her mark, for all the short time she’d stayed here.

Jason had been settled in his London townhome only a few hours when Drake arrived.

“How was your trip?” Drake sank into a large leather chair in front of the fireplace. “Things must have gone well. You weren’t away overlong.”

Jason sat in the chair opposite him. “Things didn’t go at all.”

Drake studied him. “Was she not amenable to your suggestion?”

Jason leaned his elbows on his spread knees, dangling his hands between them.

“She wasn’t there.”

Drake stiffened. “Not there? Where was she?”

“London.”

“Here in London? Residing with whom?”

“I don’t know.” He blew out a huge breath.

Drake smirked. “Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning, old man, you’re not making much sense.”

Jason rose and paced in front of the fireplace. “She apparently hied off to London not too long after the wedding. But, she was certainly there long enough to endear herself to the local gentry, the tenants, and my household staff.”

“You don’t say.” Drake flashed a delighted smile.

“It seems her ladyship visited the tenants while she was there, delivering sweets and breads and ingratiating herself to their hearts.” Gesturing in the direction of the window, he continued, “Then when she wasn’t running about the countryside bestowing her benevolence on one and all, she entertained my staff with hypnotizing pianoforte music.”

“Indeed?”

“Precisely.” Running his fingers through his hair, Jason threw himself back into the chair and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “But it gets worse.”

Drake waited patiently.

“No one knows where she went.”

“Not the staff at Coventry?” His friend sputtered. “She’s disappeared?”

“She packed up and left and only told the staff she was going to London. They naturally assumed she was coming to me here in Coventry House.”

“What about the driver, can’t he tell you where he brought her?”

“The driver has been dismissed, and all my efforts to find him failed.” Jason returned to the front of the fireplace, his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed. “As it stands now, I have a wife somewhere here in London. I don’t know what she looks like, I don’t know where she is, or with whom she is staying.”

Drake’s jaw muscles worked, but the laughter burst out anyway. “I say, you have a bit of a problem here.”

“I know that.” He scowled at his friend. “I’m so pleased my life is able to provide you with entertainment.”

“Sorry. Really I am, but only you could get caught in a mess like this.” Drake eyed him. “What will you do now?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure where to even begin a search. I know nothing about her.” He blew out a deep breath. “What a fix.”

After tapping at the door, Barton entered the room to hand Jason several envelopes. “The morning mail, my lord.”

“Thank you.” Jason shuffled through the items, his eyes growing wide as he perused two of the envelopes. Tearing open one, he skimmed it, and then the other. “Well. It seems her ladyship does have need of my funds after all.”

Drake rose to join him. “What is it?”

“Two bills. One for several gowns from Mademoiselle DuBois. The other from a shop who sold Lady Coventry gloves, shoes, hats and three reticules.”

“Ho, ho.” Drake grinned. “She’s taunting you. I like her. If indeed you do cast her aside, send her my way.”

Jason slapped the envelopes against his leg. “What game is she playing? Going off to London, not telling anyone where she would be staying. Not using her name in society—we surely would have heard of her by now—but still making free with my money.”

“Pardon my impertinence, my lord, but is it not Lady Coventry’s due to be housed, clothed and fed by her husband? Maybe it’s her way of gaining your attention.” Drake’s voice softened.

“She certainly has it now, hasn’t she?”

“I fail to see why you’re so upset with the chit. You married her and left her to fend for herself. If she has the mettle to come to town and dress as a countess should be dressed, what is your objection?”

“My objection is I need to speak with her, to see if we can make arrangements to end this farce. How am I even going to find her?”

Drake stretched his long frame, then tapped the envelopes in Jason’s hand. “I suggest you start with the bills. Obviously,
someone
knows what she looks like.”

“Oh yes, I can see it now. ‘Excuse me
, Mademoiselle
, I have these bills in hand for gowns for Lady Coventry. Could you please tell me what she looks like?’” He glared.