“All right.” Something broke through Lark’s worry for Hugh and he really saw this woman, who was a little aggressive and seemed protective of Hugh. Lark wondered if he should infer something about her. He was certainly curious to see how Hugh regarded her.
They walked outside. A carriage that had seen better days was indeed waiting in front of the house. The Sweeney coat of arms was painted on the door. As a devoted reader of the scandal sheets and society columns, Lark prided himself on his knowledge of everyone in theton, and he could not recall how the Paulsons and the Sweeneys might have been related. Lark gestured to the Sweeney symbol.
“Perhaps I should have explained,” Lady Adele said. “I am a companion to the Countess of Sweeney. I reside in her house in Marylebone, near Regent’s Park.”
The address surprised Lark. Had the Sweeneys fallen on hard times? But there was a more pressing question. “How did Hugh end up in Westminster?”
“That remains a mystery, my lord.”
As the carriage got underway, Lark asked, “Does he remember how he came to have a head injury?”
“No. He doesn’t remember much of anything before he woke up at my house six days ago. He’s recovered snatches of childhood memories, but not enough to reveal his identity.”
Lark nodded.
“Can you tell me much about him?”
Lark considered the question. “I’m not sure what would be best to reveal. His father, the previous duke, died about six years ago. He and Hugh were not especially close. His parents had one of those customarytonmarriages where they knew each other for about three days before the duke offered, and once the requisite heir was produced, the duke left his family in the country and spent most of his time in London. But Hugh is quite close with his mother, despite the fact that she is a difficult woman.”
Lady Adele huffed out a laugh and said, “This tells me nothing about the current duke.”
Lark nodded. “I suppose if he has lost his memories, he may have lost some aspects of his personality as well. But the Hugh I know is a very proud man who performs his duties without complaint even though I know he loathes some of them.”
“Give me an example.”
“He hates balls for once. Don’t tell him I told you that.”
“Does he hate dancing?”
“No, it’s not that. I think he is fond of dancing, in fact, but he will never admit it.” Lark laughed softly, thinking of a discussion they had on the last night Lark had seen Hugh. “You see, as a handsome duke of good marriageable age, all of the society mamas have been throwing their daughters at him. He is the most eligible bachelor in London, you see.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Lark watched her face carefully for a reaction. He was not disappointed. She’d obviously grown quite fond of Hugh in the time he’d spent at her house. Lark supposed that made sense; Hugh was a good man, even if his priorities had been a little off-kilter of late. Lark worried he’d been close to succumbing to his mother’s pressure and just picking some debutante at random. Hugh had always said he’d wanted more for himself than a marriage like his parents. Hugh’s father’s absence had made Hugh feel disconnected from his title in some ways, or so Lark had long hypothesized. He played the role of the noble duke for the sake of his mother, but some part of Hugh had wanted a quiet life and a family and none of his ceremonial responsibilities. Perhaps that was still possible; plenty of members of the peerage, even those with familial ties to the king, lived far from London and did not participate much in the rituals of society. But the dowager duchess had plans for her son.
Lady Adele clasped her hands in her lap and looked forward, as if willing herself to get home faster. Likely Lark was making her uncomfortable.
“You do not travel with a maid?” he asked, likely pushing his luck.
“I did not see the need when I left home a few hours ago. My intention had been to look up the coat of arms at the bookshop to see if I could identify from which family His Grace came. Based on his manners and the few memories he’s been able to retrieve, I gathered he was a lord, although I honestly had no idea he was a duke.”
“They are precious few, the dukes. Although my father is one, so I forget that sometimes.”
“Who is your father?”
Lark smiled. “The Duke of Beaufort. Hugh and I are in fact cousins of a sort. We’re both descended from ancestors who married into royal family at some time. Only his relative is agreat aunt and mine married a Plantagenet. My future dukedom was a weird consolation prize from Charles II. As in, sorry your family was nearly brought to ruin by several generations of Tudor rule and then civil war, but here is a title.”
Lady Adele laughed, but it was reluctant. “Do you and His Grace sit around discussing English history? You just said quite a lot. I barely recall the lessons my governess taught me, although I admit I was an inattentive pupil.”
“I suppose we do. It’s an interest for both of us.” Lark tilted his head. “We could perhaps mine his memory for any of this knowledge. He may know it somewhere deep in his foggy brain.”
“Perhaps you can try that. But no need to spell it out more for me. We are here.”
Chapter Eight
Smith had finishedEmmaand found it quite charming. This afternoon, he had chosen a novel at random from the library and was now skimming it while lounging in the gold salon. After he’d said that reading might be a pleasant diversion, the countess had told him which shelf contained her most beloved books, and he’d promised to take the utmost care of them. He now sat alone, readingGulliver’s Travels, which was proving to be quite familiar. He’d read this book before, he knew, even though he could not recall the plot.
Adele entered the room, still in her coat. Wilton trailed behind her and helped her out of it as she spoke.
