“Yes, of course,” Sarah said. “Why?”
“Where’s the carriage?”
She stared at him. “And the coachman? Where’s Tim?”
Edmunds drove them to the front of her father’s home.
“You go inside,” Alano said, “and I’ll do some snooping out here.”
She nodded, left her reticule in the carriage, and stared up at the façade of the Duke of Herridge’s town house. He’d ceased to be Father to her, even in her mind. Even if no one actually came to her and told her that Michael Tulloch was her father, she knew it in her heart.
As she stood there, gathering up her courage, she knew that what happened next might well change her life.
Alano watched Sarah enter the house.
The approach of night was greeted by the lighting of lamps. Next door, a footman exited the house, lit a lamp at the base of the steps, then disappeared inside.
Alano walked around the end of the block and back up the alley to a small courtyard leading to the stables. Here, too, there were lights burning brightly against thedarkness. All in all, the place was relatively spacious for a London home, with eight stalls for horses and three bays for carriages.
All eight stalls were occupied by fine-looking horses, all more than acceptable for pulling the two carriages located there. Each of them was ebony, heavily lacquered, but only one boasted a small ducal crest on the door. The other was brand-new, and belonged to Douglas.
He approached the stable complex warily, hearing whistling but being unable to pinpoint the source. A young man suddenly emerged from one of the stalls, pitchfork in hand.
Alano took a few steps forward. He flexed his hands, and began to smile, wondering if he’d get a chance to practice his boxing. It had been a long time, but he was more than willing to test his skills.
He began to grin.
Chapter 32
“The Duke of Herridge is an excessively greedy man, Simons,” Sarah said, probably the most personal remark she’d ever made to the majordomo.
From his expression, he wasn’t exactly certain how to answer her.
“I believe that he would do anything to acquire wealth,” she added.
She removed her bonnet, and handed it to him. Slowly, she divested herself of the gloves as well.
“I am sorry for my part in that, Lady Sarah,” he said, placing her garments on the sideboard.
“I am not speaking of my mother’s jewels, Simons,” she said. “But of other deeds. Are you involved in those as well?”
She eyed Simons. This man probably knew more about the duke than any other living individual.
“I am not certain, Lady Sarah,” Simons said, his voice a mere whisper, “whether it is greed or desperation that compels your father’s actions. He is, after all, a duke, and expected to live a certain way and to demonstrate a certain style of living.”
“He has no money.” She’d occasionally wondered about her father’s income, about his insistence in takingfrom Chavensworth anything worth selling, but she’d put it down to her father’s lavish spending. She’d never thought that he was completely without funds.
“Is that it, Simons?”
The man didn’t answer, but his silence was assent enough.
“When the opportunity came along to get me married without any expense on his part, it must have seemed heaven-sent.”
Simons allowed himself a small smile. “As you say, Lady Sarah.”
“He could not have been happy about the delay in Douglas’s diamond process.”
He looked directly at her. “He was not, Lady Sarah.”
