“He has a good deal of character. I like him very much, and so does your father.”
“Yes. I thought he did.”
“I know you feel you’re doing the honorable thing, my dear. But love, and I am sure Peyton does love you, can overcome most obstacles. Will you promise me that you’ll at least reconsider his offer?” Mama placed an arm around her. “I’ve been observing the two of you and believed…” She sighed. “I had such hopes for you, dear child.”
What good would it do, when the answer must always be the same? “I promise, Mama.” Helen rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and sadly resisted saying anything more.
***
Russell appeared at the breakfast room door. “Mr. Dalby from Bow Street is here to see you, my lord.”
Jason looked up from the newspaper he was reading, his kippers half eaten. “Send him in, Russell.” He motioned to the footman for more coffee and pushed his plate away, his appetite deserting him.
The runner hurried into the room still in his greatcoat, hat in hand. “Sorry to bother you so early, Lord Peyton, but the magistrate wanted to alert you to the fact that the man claiming to be Baron Bianchi has slipped the net.”
Jason pushed back his chair. “How did he manage to do that? He was here in London yesterday.” And tonight, Bianchi expected to be granted Lizzie’s hand. “What caused him to run?”
“We don’t know, milord. We went to his digs this morning and discovered he’d packed up and left some hours before.”
“Could he have known you were after him?”
“One of our men followed him last night, but he gave him the slip. Must have got wind of it.”
Jason tightened his jaw. “Your man must have stood out like a sore thumb.”
“It appears that Bianchi, so called, and another gentleman left in a carriage several hours ago, milord. Traveling north to Liverpool.”
“Where are they off to, Ireland or New York?” Jason mused. “They’re after fresh pickings, eh, Dalby.” Jason did not have the authority to arrest Bianchi. He’d need the runner to accompany him. “Care to pursue them?”
Dalby pulled back his greatcoat and indicated the gun that runners always carried with them. “Left my horse in your stables. I’m keen, milord.”
Jason turned to the footman. “Henry, send word to the groom. I want Icarus saddled. Dalby, there’s coffee in the pot. Help yourself. We shall leave in a few minutes.”
He ran up to Lizzie’s rooms.
“Lady Greywood has just left for Madam Bernard’s salon in Oxford Street,” Sally said. “She needs an alteration to her ball gown.”
Jason cursed under his breath. “Why didn’t you accompany her?”
“Milady wished me to finish some mending.” She flushed and eyed a corset on the table beside her workbasket.
Jason went to bang on Charlie’s door then remembered his brother had stayed with a friend the previous evening after attending a bachelor dinner.
He needed first to alert Lizzie. It seemed likely that Bianchi intended to quit England. But he didn’t trust the Italian not to try some sneaky ploy. Hopefully, he and Dalby, riding hard, could overtake their carriage in a matter of hours. It depended on whether Bianchi thought he’d got away with it and was traveling at a leisurely pace or making flat-out for Liverpool. If it was the latter, Jason might not return to London until the early hours of the morning. As he left with Dalby, Jason preferred the former, considering theforger’s over developed sense of his own capabilities.
His only chance to change Helen’s mind was the ball tonight. If he failed to appear, he feared he might not get another.
In Oxford Street, Jason left Dalby with the horses and strode into Madam Bernard’s salon, causing a lady to shriek and disappear behind a curtain.
Madam Bernard erupted from a dressing room, moving with surprising speed for one so well endowed. “Milord?”
“Madam. I believe my sister, Lady Greywood, is here?”
“Yes. Milord.” The modiste turned and addressed the stunned servant with her. “Annie, fetch Lady Greywood. “Would you care to take a seat in the salon, Lord Peyton? A glass of wine, perhaps?”
Relieved to find Lizzie safe, Jason tamped down his impatience, keen to continue his pursuit. “No, thank you.”
Madam Bernard twisted the tape measure around her neck with her fingers. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see if I can assist Lady Greywood.”
