“Ah.” A lighthearted voice came over the sound of Peter’s carriage jangling away. “I do beg your pardon. I am rather good at interrupting at entirely the wrong moment.”
Donata stepped from me hastily, eyeing the intruder who had entered from the vestibule, another of our footmen fluttering behind him. Donata and I were usually in some other part of the house when visitors arrived, not kissing in the front hall. The guests would be invited to kick their heels in a reception room while Barnstable determined whether they’d be admitted or simply allowed to leave a card.
Today, we were decidedly informal.
“Eden,” I greeted him heartily. “My dear, this is Major Miles Eden, of the Thirty-Fifth Light Dragoons. Eden, my wife, Donata Lacey.”
“How do you do?” Eden had swept off his hat, and he lifted Donata’s hand to his lips in old-fashioned courtesy. “Lacey, you have managed to steal the most beautiful woman in England. The rest of us have no hope.”
“Nowheis a master flatterer.” Donata withdrew her hand before Eden could hold it too long, and gave him a nod. “Perhaps you should learn at his feet.”
She spoke in her usual cool tones, but I could see she was pleased. Eden knew how to flirt without becoming smarmy, to compliment a lady without angering her gentlemen enough to call him out.
Barnstable floated in from wherever he’d kept himself and took Eden’s greatcoat and hat. “Coffee and brandy, sir?” he suggested to me.
“Just the thing. In the library would be best. Shall you join us, Donata?”
“A pair of army officers from the same regiment?” Donata feigned a shiver. “No, indeed. I have plenty of letters to write and will leave you to it. Good afternoon, Major Eden. Delighted to have met you.”
Eden bowed to her, and Donata gave him another nod, touched my arm fondly, and glided up the stairs.
“I say, she is quite stunning,” Eden told me once we heard her sitting room door close. “Even more beautiful than rumor has it. Congratulations, old man.”
“Please return your eyes to your head,” I said, not without a note of pride. “But I will accept your congratulations. I rejoice every day that she is mine. Shall we?”
I led him to the high-ceilinged library, which was lined with bookcases, a heavy desk that I’d cluttered reposing in its midst. The tall window that looked out to the back garden lent us some light, though gray fog had once more descended on London.
Barnstable brought in coffee and brandy, taking his time to set out cups, glasses, spoons, and a pot of sugar perfectly before asking if we needed anything more, and skimming away.
Eden gazed about in approval as we took our seats, I behind the desk and he on a Louis XV chair. “A lovely house, a beautiful wife, a perfect butler, reams of books—you have done quite well for yourself, Lacey. Is Brandon apoplectic with fury at you for it?”
“We’ve mended our fences.” I recalled how Brandon had enjoyed himself coming to my aid in Brighton this summer. I shrugged. “More or less.”
“How is the beautiful Mrs. Brandon? I should have eloped with her long ago, but I knew you had a tendresse for her, so I gallantly stepped aside.” Eden ended with a flourish of his hand.
“Mrs. Brandon and I are friends,” I said in a light tone. “If you had eloped with her, as you pretend you wished to, she’d have had you firmly under her thumb from the first moment. Might have improved you.”
Eden burst out laughing. “You have the right of it.” He trailed off. “I apologize for abandoning you this morning. I found Brewster and told him where you’d gone, but I had a devilish important appointment to keep. Business, you know. It wouldn’t wait. I came to see if you’d fared all right against that horrible man.”
I gave him a nod. “He released me without damage. Brewster was charging to my rescue even as I emerged from Creasey’s lair. Creasey didn’t torture me. We played chess.”
Eden looked alarmed. “I thought he was a master. What did he want from you?”
“To teach me my place. He won, of course, but I tried to play better than he expected so he’d not become disgusted and have me beaten for the entertainment of it.”
Eden shuddered. “I met Bonaparte once. He was a man well confident of his own power, fairly certain he was destined to become a god, but he was also polite and intelligent, courteous to an officer of his enemies. He made me know I was less than nothing to him, but he did not frighten me anywhere near what this Creasey does.”
“You will be glad to learn that I have decided to leave him to Mr. Denis. Both Denis and Creasey—and Brewster—are correct that I should step out of the way.” I poured a dollop of brandy into my coffee and sipped. Both beverages were excellent, and combined they made a superb concoction. “Which gives me more time to focus on your problem.”
Eden gave a heartfelt sigh and lifted his coffee. “I thank you. I will be glad to have Pomeroy not popping up to greet me wherever I turn, with that hearty laugh of his. I imagine every criminal in London is terrified of him.”
“They are,” I assured him. I set down my cup and folded my hands on the desk. “But I need perfect frankness from you if I am to help.” I leaned forward and gave him an intent stare. “Tell me, Eden. Who is the lady?”
CHAPTER 12
Ihad expected Eden to splutter into his coffee, cough, and send me a flurry of lies as his face grew crimson.
Instead, he lowered his cup in puzzlement. “What lady?”
