“Yet there will be no more meetings. Hence the cold water of righteous living.”
“I did not say that there would be no more meetings. The cold-water reference was to the restraint itself.”
“Do you know her name yet?”
Gabriel threw down his cards and stood.
Stratton pulled out his pocket watch again. “How long did you say you would keep me away?”
“Longer than this, but go now.”
“Should I? We don’t want Clara angry with you.”
“Go. I insist.”
“I can dally another hour if that is appropriate.”
“Go home. Go to hell. Go anywhere before I punch you.”
* * *
Two nights later, Gabriel entered his brother’s house. The servant no longer slept near the door. Rather, he sat upright, probably hoping for just such a visit and the coin he received to make himself scarce.
As soon as he saw Gabriel, he was on his feet. “Dawn as usual, Your Grace?”
Gabriel handed over the money.
“No. Wait here. If I am not back by ten-thirty, then go away until dawn.”
The fellow cocked his head in curiosity, but accepted the change. “Oh, I should probably tell you. Lord Harold wrote that he will be returning in the next few days.”
“That was not long. One wonders he bothered to leave.”
“He won’t be staying. He will just visit, then go back.”
Why would Harry even need to visit? Gabriel did not wonder long. He had ceased trying to comprehend Harry years ago.
He went below and unlocked the garden door. Then he mounted the stairs to the library. He made himself comfortable, took out his pocket watch, and set it on the divan beside him.
He had placed another notice in the newspaper.Shepherdess, same time, same place June 10.In twenty minutes, he would know if she’d seen it and came.
He had no champagne with him tonight. That served as a testimony to his soul-felt belief that she would not show. There had been a finality about how she’d slipped away last time. And yet—
The time moved slowly. He could not distract himself with thoughts of the bill or memories of prior conquests. He forced himself not to stare at that watch, but he managed to glance over every five minutes just the same.
Ten o’clock came and went.
At ten after ten, a floorboard creaked. His heart rose. He almost jumped to his feet as well. Only no form materialized in the shadows. It had only been a sound such as houses make at night.
At ten-twenty, he accepted she would not come. The depth of his disappointment surprised him.
At twenty-five after, he walked down to the entry door. “Lock up after me,” he said to the servant. “Then go down and lock the garden door too.”
He stepped out into the damp night.Damnation. You are an ass, Langford.
* * *
Amanda entered Mr. Peterson’s print shop on The Strand. She shook the rain off her wrap. Despite the steady drizzle, she dared not skip this daily detour on her way home.
