He did not mention love. She sucked ina breath as her dreams of love floated away like a soapbubble.
“You are my best friend,Harry,” she said finally accepting defeat. And it was true. He was.“I would be honored to marry you.”
His smile was warm and steady as thesummer sun. His brown eyes softened like melted chocolate. “Thencome over here and kiss me.”
Her pulse racing, she bent over him.He held the back of her head with his free hand. His lips pressedagainst hers then gently covered her mouth. She teetered forwardand placed a hand on his good shoulder to steadyherself.
The door flew open. “That’s enough ofthat!” cried her outraged father.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack’s stay at Albany was at an end,his luggage delivered to the townhouse. The staff had arrived, andJack had been introduced to the butler, Livermore, and his newhousekeeper, Mrs. March. Now, the house quietly hummed as servantswent about their business while the smells of beeswax and lavenderperfumed the air.
Bascombe had sent word thathe’d arranged for Caindale’s premises to be watched. Jack intendedto call on Caindale that afternoon to learn the name of the manButterstone met before he left London. Maybe, something wouldemerge from this murky business. Bonaparte seemed to have reachedout to manipulate them from the grave. Made him think of Shelley’spoem,Queen Mab:Power, like a desolatingpestilence, pollutes whatever it touches.
The post brought a letter from Harrywhich put Jack’s mind at ease. Harry apologized for not penning theletter himself. He’d suffered a slight accident that put hiswriting hand out of action. Soon, he would explain everything.Their trip to Ireland had proved interesting, and they would returnhome the following day. As he and Erina were to be married in twoweeks, he would be honored should Jack consent to be his bestman—if he hadn’t taken off for parts unknown. Harry would adviseJack of the details when he reached home.
Jack propped his feet on the ornatesatinwood desk with a bark of laughter. He tossed the letter ontothe polished surface. Well what a surprise! Wasn’t it just likeHarry to leave a man dangling? He missed his friend’s ironicstraight-faced humor, a foil to his down-to-earth commonsense. Thefirst of them to take the plunge into matrimony. To the lovelyErina, a spirited lady who would take him on a wild ride throughlife. “Best thing for him,” Jack murmured. Harry had lost some ofhis verve since the war which had affected them all in variousways.
He looked around the library linedwith bookshelves waiting to be filled, the empty marble fireplace,which would be pleasant on a cold evening. Through the tall windowsdraped in burgundy silk the sun’s rays traced a pattern over theTurkey rug. Beyond the glass, a breeze toyed with the leaves of achestnut tree. “What this room needs, is a dog.” Jack’s hound haddied last year at the grand old age of seventeen.
Bemused, Jack shook his head. A dog?Can’t take an animal on the road. Might he be getting toocomfortable? He lowered his legs, pushed himself away from the deskand went to his bedroom to change into riding clothes. Time tofetch Arion from the stables and introduce him to his new home. Butfirst, they would go for a gallop in the park. It was too early forthe fashionable to object.
Two hours later, washed, changed, andrefreshed from his ride, he set out on foot.
A man lurked in the street outsideCaindale’s townhouse. He stood to attention when Jack approached. Asoldier once, but no one he recognized. Jack raised his hand ingreeting, which the man returned.
The butler admitted Jack into theCaindales’ drawing room. Moments later, the door opened, and adark-haired lady of middle age entered. Surprised, Jack bowed.“Captain Ryder, Lady Caindale. I wished a word with yourhusband.”
She hurried forward, fear in her eyes.“He’s not here, Captain Ryder. But he has left you a letter.” Sheheld it out. “As you see it is sealed. It’s my hope Caindale hastold you where he’s gone.”
Jack took the letter from hertrembling fingers.
“Please, do sit down.” Shesank onto a chair and began to explain how her husband had grownincreasingly nervous, over the last month or so. “It began beforehis impromptu trip to Paris.” She rubbed her temples. “But he wouldtell me nothing, other than that I must not worry. Then yesterdaymorning while I was still abed, he left the house carrying aportmanteau his valet had packed for him. He rode off on his horsewithout leaving word. And he hasn’t returned.”
“Might he be at his countryestate?”
“No. I sent a footman therestraight away. The servant returned last night. They haven’t seenhim.”
“Perhaps the letter willinform us.” Jack broke the seal. The letter was several pages ofclosely written script. He scanned it.
After a moment, she leaned forward.“Does he say where he’s gone?”
“His manufacturing businessin Manchester.”
“Oh, that’s it then.” Shesighed. “He’s been very worried about the cotton mill. He hasn’tbeen able to afford to improve the mill, and after drought affectedthe river, production has halted. He will want to see about hisworkers. He doesn’t like to worry me about matters of business andwould not have wanted me to come with him. Caindale hates slowcoach trips.” She toyed with the cameo brooch at her neck as hereyes filled with doubt. “So, he is in Manchester?”
“Yes, he states quiteclearly that is his direction.” Jack stood. “If I hear anythingmore from Lord Caindale, I’ll notify you straightaway, my lady.Although I expect you’ll hear from him before I do.”
She rose to see him out. “You arekind. Thank you, Captain Ryder.”
Instead of going directly to Bascombe,Jack made a detour to Grosvenor Square. In his letter, Caindale hadgiven him the name of the man they sought, a Viscount Holmes. Itwas also a confession of sorts. Caindale had become involved insomething bigger and more dangerous than he’d first envisaged. AFrenchman had employed him to cover up Butterstone’s investigationinto the conspiracy to murder Bonaparte. When Caindale learned ofthe danger to his brother-in-law, he’d taken to the road to warnhim, but his coach was held up and he’d been forced to return toLondon. Caindale was stricken with remorse to learn ofButterstone’s death and refused to take any payment for his part inthe affair. Now that his family was safe, he had gone north toManchester to improve his finances.
The Butterstone’s butler admitted Jackto the house. Jack was shown into the cramped office where themajordomo, Thacker stood waiting. “Good to see you again, CaptainRyder.” His disgruntled expression said otherwise.
“I wonder if you have anynews for me.” Jack sat. “Anything untoward occurred since we lastspoke?”
“Only that the housemaidAmy, who took Sarah’s place after the maid was run down in thestreet, appears to have absconded.”
