Stephen inclined his head, though he had no intention of disclosing any information. “I’ll advise you if I discover anything.” He rose and escorted his guest to the door. “Good afternoon, Carstairs.”
The viscount departed, and Stephen was still convinced that he’d played a role in the lost shipment. Carstairs kept trying to place blame upon Hollingford, and though Stephen could not fault it, his suspicions grew.
He returned to the parlor, sitting down before the hearth. He steepled his fingers, trying to think. What had he missed? Closing his eyes, he struggled to piece together the images of that night.
The memories remained locked away, despite his attempts to uncover them. He suspected he would not learn more until he had found the list of investors. Someone had stolen the profits fromThe Lady Valiant.
Someone who needed money.
Silence permeated the room, and Stephen was about to leave when he noticed the motionless body of the cat. His spine grew rigid when he realized that, beside the cat lay the abandoned biscuit.
Chapter Nineteen
Thefamiliargreyskiesof London greeted Emily as she disembarked from the coach. Nigel had insisted that she come with him on his trip to town. Although Stephen would be angry, she didn’t want to remain alone at Nigel’s residence.
Her uncle took her hand, assisting her down. “Chin up, my dear. Remember, you are the daughter of a baron and the wife of an earl. There is no need to look as though you wish to flee into the streets.”
His warm smile encouraged her, so Emily straightened and followed him into his London residence. The townhouse was every bit as grand as the country estate with white windowsills against a dark brick façade.
They had brought the children with them, for she would not even consider leaving them behind. Royce had whined and moped, at first, but brightened when she mentioned seeing Stephen again.
The servants welcomed her, and her bedchamber was decorated in shades of delicate cream and blue. A thick, luxurious carpet covered the floors, and she warmed herself by the fire. Though she tried to rest from her journey by reading the book of cooking receipts Stephen had given her, she could not prevent herself from pacing.
The very thought of seeing Stephen again filled her with trepidation. He wasn’t going to be pleased with her. And if she dared set foot in society, as Nigel wished her to do, he’d be furious.
Was it only because of the danger? Or was he ashamed of her? The self-doubts plagued her, multiplying with each hour.
In the past few weeks, Nigel had tried to build up her confidence. He’d practiced dancing with her, despite the painful gout that plagued his knee. He’d shared long talks with her in the evening, encouraging her and listening when she confessed her fears.
She had come to see him as a lonely man who wanted to fill his days with the children. But she still didn’t want to give them up, regardless of what Daniel’s will stated.
Nigel had been especially indignant when he’d learned of Lord Rothburne’s refusal to recognize her as Stephen’s wife. He vowed to force the marquess into accepting her.
Tomorrow night, he planned to escort her to Lady Thistlewaite’s ball. He had it on good authority that Stephen would attend. The aching emptiness in her stomach tightened with anticipation, for she longed to see him. And yet, the thought of facing Lady Thistlewaite made her consider developing a sudden case of hives.
How would the earl react when she arrived? Stephen did not want her here; he had made that quite clear. Neither did the marquess. When she arrived at the ball, it would be without their knowledge.
She was strongly tempted to pay a call upon her husband, to warn him of her intent. Oh, he would be angry all right. But it would be worse if he learned of her arrival at the ball. Better to let him know sooner, rather than later.
She donned her cloak and bonnet, just about to leave when Nigel stopped her. “Why, Emily, is something the matter?”
“No.” She glanced at the door. “I was planning to pay a call.”
“Not alone, I hope.”
“Of course not. I was going to take a footman as an escort.”
Her uncle relaxed. “Very well. But you will, of course, take the carriage. I’ve no wish for harm to befall you on the streets when we’ve only just become reacquainted.” He summoned a servant. “Have my landau and driver brought to the front. Lady Whitmore wishes to pay a few calls.” Nigel bowed gallantly. “There is no need to walk.”
“It isn’t so very far,” she protested.
“Perhaps not, but you are a countess, and you must present yourself as such. I look forward to introducing you to society tomorrow evening.” His blue eyes grew thoughtful. “It should have been done years ago. I am sorry once again that your circumstances were not different. But enough about the past.”
Nigel cleared his throat and predicted, “You will enchant them all.” Offering her a wink, he added, “I may not possess a title, but I do have connections.”
“Thank you, Uncle Nigel.” Impulsively, she gave him a hug. He smelled of tobacco and tea.
Nigel patted her on the back. “Enjoy your outing then.”
