Then he was gone, striding through the garden to the side portal.
CHAPTER6
“Isee my letter found you,” Ives said as Gareth walked into the library of Langley House in London.
“I hired a man for Albany Lodge who had enough sense to forward it on. What are you doing here?” The letter had arrived that morning, catching Gareth as he planned to leave town. The count’s paintings had arrived, their purchase completed, and transport to their new home arranged. Hendrika’s fee had already made its way to Amsterdam, and his own purse bulged happily with his commission.
If he did not face the return to Langdon’s End with total contentment, the reason had to do with Eva Russell. A pleasant friendship had become complicated in the span of one minute during his visit to her.
He had almost kissed her. He could not deny it, although it made no sense. Eva Russell was not the kind of woman he pursued. Unmarried, gentry, country—she was the opposite of the ladies with whom he had affairs. Nor did he kiss, or do anything else with women, impetuously. Yet in that garden the joyful simmer of arousal that he knew so well had almost defeated his better sense.
He had warned her off while the battle with his inclinations raged, but it had done no good. It still amazed him that he had managed to walk away from her breathless anticipation. His ownastonishment with his own impulses had probably saved the day.
Ives set aside a book he had been reading. “Lance insisted on coming. He was going mad. I could not stop him, so I had to accompany him to keep an eye on things.”
“Any change in the inquiry?”
Ives shook his head. “It is stalled, but they won’t give it up yet. The magistrates visited to chat with Lance. None dared accuse him, but the questions turned pointed.”
“And his answers?”
“He regaled them with explanations of the many far better ways to kill a man than poison. Some were quite creative.”
Gareth laughed. Ives did not. He leveled a curious look at Gareth instead. “Albany Lodge?”
“It needed a name.”
“I wish Percy were alive to hear the one you gave it.”
“Once the property is mine free and clear, I will go to his grave and tell him all about it.”
“That will ensure he does not rest peacefully for a long while.”
Gareth walked around the library. “I have not been in this house in years. Nothing has changed much. I am glad.”
“I hope the memories you are pacing through are good ones,” Ives said.
“Better ones than the memories bound to Albany Lodge. Percy tainted those, deliberately, while the time in this library with the duke had nothing to do with Percy, or anyone else.”
He circled through the vast space, impressed by the warm familiarity it produced. Dukes by nature and position were not given to easy intimacy, but there had been a few times here when he had felt like a son.
Let me hear you read this here, so I know that school is not neglecting you. A gentleman is known by his mind and education, Gareth, as well as his blood. The boys at school arehard on you because you are a bastard, but remember why you are there, and whose son you are.
“You are free to stay here when in town,” Ives said. “Lance said as much. Or at Merrywood, when you are near there. He told the servants you would use the family properties as our father’s son.”
Gareth kept pacing and peering at details, mostly to hide his reaction to this astonishing offer. With one small gesture of generosity, Lance had wiped away a lifetime of never belonging in any of the houses, or anywhere at all. It moved Gareth, and would take some time to accommodate.
“Have you made any progress on that investigation?” Ives asked.
“A little. I traced the likely path of the wagons. I rode the same route when I came to town, taking note of my surroundings and the properties I passed or crossed.”
“I have taken the opportunity while here to gather some information for you. Names of servants and teamsters, such as can be remembered. Also letters of introduction to the families who live near the final resting place of the paintings. I am sure you can find an excuse to visit them.”
“That will be helpful.” Hell if he knew how he would find an excuse to visit them. Ives sometimes forgot that he and Lance could turn up at the door of any aristocrat and expect the easy hospitality those families shared without question. Gareth could not. “Do you have a list of the paintings that went missing? Without it, I will not know what I have found, should I find anything at all.”
“That will be forthcoming in a week. I will have it sent to you. Here? Or... Albany Lodge?”
“I should be back there by then. In fact, I should be leaving in the morning, so I will take my leave now.”
