He understood Mariel’s marriage may have given her purpose, but at what cost? She hid her scars from her family, yet had revealed them unwittingly to him. If she kept those a secret, it was not his place to divulge them. “That may be, but I did not know it at the time. As for any other questions, I suggest you ask Mariel as I’m finished here.”
He turned on his heel and strode for the closed door. Opening it, he paused and faced the two family members who had thought to protect Mariel then and now. “You may send the marriage settlement to Blackmore House. I will review it and determine if it’s acceptable. Tell Lady Beaumont I am sorry she was unavailable today.”
Barely keeping himself from slamming the door, he closed it with a thud. Striding down the corridor, he heard women’s voices coming from the parlor, but continued out the door once retrieving his hat. Not waiting for his footman, he pulled open the door of his coach and jumped inside, slamming it closed behind him.
He found his coach already occupied and his muscles tensed. “Who the devil are you, and what are you doing in my coach?”
The man sitting across from him was about his age with a trimmed black beard and mustache, with dark brows over green eyes. A light scar along the side of his right cheek gave him a sinister appearance and he was dressed head to toe in black.
“I suggest you send the coach to Blackmore House while we talk.” The voice was gravelly as if the man had escaped the hangman’s noose just in time.
Since they sat outside Craymore Hall and he didn’t wish to endanger Mariel or her family, no matter how irritated he was with them, he used his walking cane to knock on the ceiling and they started to move. “There, now explain who you are and why you are here.”
The man held his cane between his legs with both hands on the head. There was a large ring on one finger, but Marcus couldn’t see what stone or signet it might contain.
“I’m here because I understand you search for a man by the name of Cobby.”
Immediately, his interest was caught. “That is correct.”
The man grinned, making the scar crinkle, giving him a maniacal visage. Then he lifted the hand with the ring, which proved to have a blood red ruby in it, and tugged at his beard.
As the hair pulled away, Marcus contemplated his options to defend himself. With the beard stripped away, he stared at the man. Why would the man disguise himself?
“Do you not recognize me?” The familiar voice held laughter as the man rubbed the scar until it made a large smudge on his face.
“Anthony!” Relief mixed with impatience. “What are you about?”
Anthony lifted his top hat and pulled the dark wig from his blond head. “I was gathering information among strangers, but after seeing their reaction to this disguise, I thought I’d test it with someone I know. You didn’t know it was me. Don’t deny it.”
He shook his head, only now truly appreciating the lengths his friend went to for his benefit. “I would not deny it. I did not know you. But you are lucky you revealed yourself as I was about to pull the dagger from my cane.”
Anthony’s eyes rounded. “You were? Excellent!” He laughed, obviously very pleased with himself.
“Did you mean what you said? Do you have news of Cobby?”
His friend sobered immediately. “Yes, I do. He has returned home to Berkshire. He is aware that you are in London. My instinct tells me he is trying to figure out how to get to you. I doubt he’s willing to wait until after the season.”
Knowing where his enemy was had him calming. “Then I need to go there. It’s time I eliminated the man from humankind. He is a danger to every woman he meets.”
“No.” Anthony shook his head. “He is well known in Berkshire and has far too many friends who would come to his defense. The man has a way of attracting others of his ilk. It’s not safe. I suggest finishing here in London and then we can devise a scheme for drawing him out.” Anthony held up the wig. “I could even disguise myself as you and you can deliver the pièce de résistance.” The man flicked his wrist as if the conductor of an orchestra.
He felt like a horse biting at his bit, anxious to put an end to the threat Cobby was, but what Anthony said made sense. He had only a fortnight before Mariel would break their betrothal and while in London, they were safe for now. He had so little time left with her, and so much he wanted her to know before he set her free. Despite the pain in his chest from the thought of giving her up, it was the right thing to do. Someday, she would have the children, household, and stables she always wanted, and he would be content that she was happy.
A sudden thought chilled him. “How do we know Cobby will remain in Berkshire for the next fortnight?”
Anthony pulled the ring from his finger and dropped it in his pocket. “Because I have a man watching him. If he leaves Berkshire, we’ll know.”
Relieved, he finally relaxed back into the cushions of the coach. “I received word that Madame Fontaine has booked passage for herself and her granddaughter on theWind Spriteand is due to arrive in England in a fortnight. See if you can secure lodgings for them in a respectable area of Town.”
“She will not stay at Blackmore House?”
“No.” He tensed as he imagined his mother being told a woman of thebourgeoisclass would be staying in her home. “She wishes to be in the center of the city. Blackmore House is too far if she is hoping to enjoy the entertainments of London.”
Anthony studied him, obviously guessing there was another reason, but he didn’t comment on it. “How was your visit with Lady Beaumont?”
“I didn’t see Lady Beaumont. I probably should have had you watching the Duchess of Northwick. That woman interrogated me on why I didn’t let her sister know I was alive.”
“She did? Does she not know that you were severely wounded, left to die, and then heartbroken over her sister’s marriage?”
