“I didn’t expect to see you this week, Your Grace,” Vince said with a nod, as he wiped a glass with a cloth.
“You may not see me for some time,” Henry replied, glancing around at the empty establishment. “I have some business to attend to that may keep me occupied for some weeks. Send your reports to Holdridge Court. Send them with a trusted messenger.”
Vince dipped his head. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“And have the waiters listen closely,” Henry added, meeting Vince’s cautious stare with a stern one of his own. “Write anything unusual in the reports.”
“You want the boys to eavesdrop?”
Henry paused, then nodded. “As ever, discretion is of paramount importance.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Vince replied.
“There will be a fair sum for information,” Henry added, by way of explanation.
“Any information in particular?” Vince pressed.
Henry shook his head. “As I said, just anything… unusual. Suspicious. I trust that you will not let me down.”
“I won’t,” Vince replied, and Henry knew the man meant it.
Inheriting a seedy gambling den from his father had been a rare shock to Henry, but he had transformed it into one of society’s best-kept secrets: a gentlemen’s club where gentlemen could feel entirely at ease, outside of the watchful eyes of London.
The place still felt like a distasteful thing to Henry, a stain upon his reputation, but that was only in his own opinion. After all, no one else knew it belonged to him, and that, he hoped, would be his advantage if there was anyone at all in society who knew what had happened to his wife.
CHAPTER 7
Thalia could not sleep, could not eventryto sleep, her head buzzing with everything Rowena and Mrs. Fisher had told her earlier.
“Why did he not tell me that he was the one who found me?” she hissed to herself as she paced the floor yet again, weary to the marrow of her bones yet unable to rest. “Why would he withhold such information? Why hide that when I was pleading for some truth?”
The rest of the earlier tour had gone by in a blur, for she had been in no mood for marveling at her own taste and admiring endless rooms after hearing about Henry’s part in finding her after the fall. She had asked Mrs. Fisher if she might speak with Henry, only to discover that he had departed Holdridge Court without telling her.
“You don’t often announce your comings and goings to each other,”the housekeeper had explained with a pitying frown.“ButI can leave word that you wish to see him tomorrow? I expect he’ll be back by then.”
But tomorrow seemed too far away, even as the carriage clock on the mantelpiece ticked toward three o’clock in the morning. It wasalreadytomorrow, yet she had no idea if her husband had returned or not, or if she would have to delay her interrogation of him a while longer. It was interminable, having to wait to hear what he had to say.
WhyshouldI wait? If he will not be forthcoming, perhaps others will be…She was struck by a sudden, intense need to see her siblings, to be among truly familiar faces, to be in her own home at the very least.
Her father had also disappeared from Holdridge, but Kenneth would be able to squeeze him for information; she was certain of it.
Compelled by the desire to be anywhere else, Thalia dressed quickly, pinned a cloak at her throat, and headed out of the bedchamber before she could change her mind. If nothing else, seeing Dorothy would be a necessary, calming medicine to her chaotic mind and soul.
She had just made it down the stairs to the entrance hall, having taken at least four wrong turns on the way, when a voice called out.
Thalia jumped in fright, for she had not heard anyone emerge from one of the adjoining hallways, no footfalls at all. Yet, rightthere in the entrance to the right-hand hallway was a man, tall and slender, with sharp blue eyes and well-oiled hair that was graying at the temples. Dressed in livery, she guessed he was a member of staff.
“Your Grace, are you well?” the man repeated the question she had missed in her fright.
“I am,” Thalia replied, catching her breath. “I apologize, I do not believe I know you.”
The man bowed. “Of course, Your Grace. I had heard about the effects of your unfortunate accident. I am Mr. Baxter: the butler.” He raised his head. “Please, allow me to offer my deepest sympathies for your affliction.”
“Thank you.” Thalia hesitated, suddenly uneasy in this man’s presence. “Might you fetch a carriage for me?”
He was the butler, after all. Arranging a carriage for the duchess of the household should have been no trouble whatsoever.
“Where is it you mean to go, Your Grace?” he asked.
