“It must have been great fun,” Bella ventured, relieved that the pallor of grief had lifted from the carriage. She had hoped the shopping trip to London would be a chance to distract from the loss.
“It was! I recall the excitement of the festivities, the games, the majesty of the elephants, and the food! Goodness, there was so much good food. As a boy, I thought I had stumbled into the most magical place in the world,” her father reminisced. “I'll own that you would have loved it, Bella. Maybe we will have another in a few years.”
“I attended once as a young girl. I wish I had gone to more, as they were held. We had discussed taking you to the one a few years back, but we already had plans for Christmastide at home. Planning for them is difficult. Once the weather is cold enough and creates the stability of the ice, they are planned. However, London will be wonderful regardless of the Frost Fair. Your favorite shops will be decked out for the holidays. There will be many, many more items in stock which they rarely offer, making shopping that much more fabulous,” Mama soothed.
“It would be nice to spend Christmastide in London,” Bella murmured. She had decided to only drop a hint or two. Slade had mentioned he would be here for the duration, although she realized special circumstances because of the deaths of his father and brother probably drew him to the city. Closing her eyes, she found solace in memories of their time together.
Bella felt a slight nudge on her arm at the same time she felt the abrupt change of road to cobblestones beneath the wheels of the carriage. She stirred from sleep and awoke to the vista of London’s buildings as they entered the city. They had been traveling for days, and she felt ready to sprawl on her bed and take a nap. Traveling had that effect on her.
“Milady! We are almost at the townhouse.” Mary’s excitement was obvious. “I see it!”
Mama smiled in the maid’s direction. Mary always got excited when they came to London. When Bella had remarked on it once, Mary explained she felt a piece of the puzzle of her life was here, and even if she didn’t know it, she felt closer to it. It gave her the feeling of wholeness to be in London.
An hour later, Bella was resting on her bed. Her fireplace had a roaring fire and her pink velvet counterpane called on her to stretch her legs and read . . . or daydream. The cloudy skies threatened snow, she noticed, checking the windows. She could see the garden area of her yard, the rooftops of Mayfair, and the mews from her window. If it did snow, she hoped it would not mess up an opportunity to see Slade. Although since he had now become a duke, he might find little time. He was in town for business, after all.
She sent Mary to her room to rest after she and the maid had hung up her dresses and other fripperies and set about putting her belongings away. Bella preferred to know where her things were and wanted this time to be relaxing. Pulling out her book, she lit another taper from the fireplace and placed it on the bedside table. Leaning back against the pillows of her bed, she tried to focus on the book she was reading. It had gotten interesting, but despite her best effort, her eyelids closed, and soon she was asleep. Her last conscious thought was of a handsome man with dark hair and brown eyes gazing down at her.
Ten
Light pierced Slade’s lids, and he pulled his pillow over this face before recognizing the familiar sound of the heavy dark green velvet curtains sliding across the iron window rod. His brain scrambled to determine the day of the week and why he was being awoken at this ungodly hour.
“My lord, you asked me to wake you early and remind you of a meeting at the wharf this morning.” Talbert said, opening the curtains in his room.
Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling. Life had moved so quickly these past several weeks. His father had died, and Slade had not seen him in almost a year. His brother was faking his death, hoping to draw out the killer of his father. And Slade had finally met a woman who drew him to her. His father would be happy about that. He was certain of it. Talbert had asked if he had plans to take over his father’s rooms as duke, but he had declined. He liked his rooms. He had no plans to change. His brother would be home soon—he would make sure of it.
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. “Talbert, I am glad to see you. What time did you get in?”
“It was late, my lord. I chose not to disturb you but knew you would want to know what I found out in Brighton,” his valet said, laying out his clothing. “And your bath is ready for you.”
“Wonderful to both things!” Slade moved over to the side of the bed and grabbed the robe lying across the bottom of his mattress. Easing into it, he stood. “What did you find?” he asked, walking toward the tub and lowering himself into the water after discarding his robe.
“According to her servants, she had been very busy on the social scene, and had done quite a lot of entertaining,” he began.
“I figured as much,” murmured Slade.
“She maintained propriety, and only women visited, as she was betrothed,” Talbert continued. “I understand that when she and her mother left, they said they would not be back for some time and to cover the furniture.”
“Seems like her existence was all legitimate,” Slade commented.
“Except for the time they saw a man with dark hair and a black mustache arguing with her across the street from the family’s townhouse,” added Talbert. “My source did not recognize him as anyone that had ever visited.”
Interesting. “Any other details?” Slade probed.
“Not much, my lord. Only that his clothes were in some disrepair. They did not get a good look at him. She walked in and said a beggar had accosted her but told the footman not to do anything.”
“Strange, to be sure. Thank you for doing that, Talbert. I am sure I can trust you to keep this between us.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Slade leaned back in the tub and took a few minutes to soak and think. He had not yet seen Graham but had received a note from Wortle upon arriving, saying his brother had awoken. He was most anxious to see him. Worry over Graham had preoccupied him throughout the journey, to the point of distraction. It took him two tries to focus on the damn campfire where the dog was found. Investigating it should have been second nature to him.
A stomach rumble reminded Slade he needed to break his fast, and he dressed quickly. Leaving his room, he met Latham on the stairs.
“Good morning, Hertford,” Latham said as they descended the stairs together.
“Ah, good! You are up,” Slade replied.
“I should not remind you that you are the late riser,” laughed Latham.
