When Matthew leaned in to kiss her, her heart ached. The problem, she realized, was clearly etiquette. Somewhere in one of her beloved books on manners, she’d read about the danger of a lady expressing her love ahead of her suitor. However, she and Matthew were past that, and she was a married woman able to think for herself. That night, she would tell him plainly of her love and see what came of it, for she could not go on tormenting herself.
Meanwhile, she expected Clarity any minute with the painting.
However, before her sister arrived with the special surprise, Mr. Jacobs entered her salon with a note delivered by a stranger. Unfolding the page, she was puzzled by the brevity of the words as well as their intent.
Our little girl is unwell. Come to Fenton’s Hotel at once. I know she will feel better when she sees you.
Foxford
“Is Miss Norland here?” she asked Mr. Jacobs, thinking her husband’s note especially odd since he’d been out of the house for less than an hour.
“No, my lady. She went on an outing with Mrs. Caldwell to Green Park, about the same time as his lordship departed.”
Purity supposed if they left at the same time, then Matthew must have bypassed Tattersall’s, deciding to walk with Diana to the park, which was not far from the hotel on St. James’s Street. If Diana had become ill, then he would have wanted to get her indoors out of the sun and onto a soft bed.
“Very well. Please hail a hackney and give the driver this address.” She handed the butler the single sheet. “I shall be downstairs directly.”
Feeling a sense of urgency, she hurried to her dressing room, deciding not to change but merely to don her hat and gloves before going downstairs to the waiting cab.
Despite the usual traffic, Purity thought the driver excelled in his duty of getting her across Mayfair. After alighting, she waved him on, knowing she would ride with Matthew on the way home. A quick glance up and down St James’s Street, however, showed no sign of his curricle, and she hurried inside Fenton’s.
Not the least bit lowly or in any way alarming, the inn was bright and smelled of furniture polish. The carpets wereclean, and the establishment had been known to house foreign dignitaries, according to the newspapers.
“Lord Foxford, please,” she said to the manager, “and he has a child with him.”
“I didn’t see a child,” the man said, “but his lordship told us to expect you. Room thirty-six. Top of the stairs, end of the hall, upon the right.”
“Gracious!” she said. “Do you have thirty-six rooms?”
“No, my lady, we have sixteen.” And with that mystifying statement, he bowed and gestured for her to take the stairs.
Upon finding the indicated door, she tapped, and it swung open. Peering inside, she saw no one at all.
All at once, it occurred to her that Matthew was behind the door, and this was a game. Only the night before, they’d been discussing finally going on their wedding trip to Scotland. She had told him how she’d never stayed in a public inn and was looking forward to it.
With a smile on her face, she stepped inside onto a plush carpet. However, when the door closed with a solid thump, it was Lord Varley’s hand on the wooden panel, not Matthew’s.
“How good of you to come,” he said, and his tone sent shivers up and down her spine. She stepped away from him, farther into the spacious chamber, sporting a four-poster bed, a wardrobe, and a writing desk.
“I came because my husband said young Miss Norland needed me.” There was no sign of the little girl or the baron.
“Naturally. I knew you would come, regardless of the fact she is your husband’s misbegotten brat. As I said, good of you because you are, by all accounts, a good person. Which is why I cannot understand your continued fascination with Foxford, a decidedly bad person.”
Purity knew one thing with certainty — Diana wasn’t Matthew’s, and yet he was caring for her regardless, through the kindness of his nature.
He was no more a bad person than was her Grandfather Diamond, despite having been of a similar nature in his younger days. Thundering bucks were not necessarily bad men, a mistake it had taken her many misjudgments to learn.
None of this was Varley’s business. “Where is Miss Norland?”
He cocked his head. “I assume she is with her whey-faced nanny with whom I saw her depart earlier.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Caldwell is particularly whey-faced at all. Random insults are beneath a gentleman,” Purity reminded him, unsettled with the knowledge he had been watching their home.
Lord Varley shook his head. “You are truly a gem, an actual Diamond. I wish I hadn’t stepped into the parson’s mousetrap before we met, or I would have wooed you with the fervency of a hound having scented a fox.”
He laughed softly. “I suppose I shouldn’t use any fox metaphors where you are concerned. In any case. Here you are, misled and brought to ruin, and yet you are still chastisingmefor insulting someone’s nursemaid.”
Purity caught her breath.How stupid of her!
