Hetty allowed her fears to ease as she sipped a glass of sherry and watched Guy nurse a brandy. Guy wore a drab green coat, but his linen was fresh and white against his olive skin. He looked worried. He seemed more vulnerable tonight, which made him even more attractive.
He turned the glass in his hands, watching the crystal catch the candlelight. “I found a map in the man’s pocket. It detailed the roads surrounding Rosecroft Hall, in relation to Sherrardspark Wood. The spot was marked where he held me up. The ruffian recovered his senses but has refused thus far to say who hired him. I’m at a loss. The one person who benefits by my death is Eustace. No one else. But I’m not about to accuse him of it. Yet.”
Hetty gasped. “I simply can’t believe it of him. He doubts you are the real Baron Fortescue.”
“He takes so much laudanum he’s incoherent.”
“He’s in pain.”
“He’s become dependent upon it.”
“Oh!” She had feared it herself.
“When the highwaymen attacked me on my way down from London, I lost my portmanteau. It contained all my important papers plus a letter from my father with his seal.”
“Have you looked for it?”
“Bien sûr!I search every day.”
“Perhaps I can…”
“No, you cannot!”
“There’s no need to snap my head off.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I can’t anyway, I promised Papa I wouldn’t go out riding alone again.”
Guy’s eyes widened. “He knows?”
“Yes.”
“That you ride his horse while dressed in a man’s clothes?”
She flushed. “No. But I won’t do that again.” She wasn’t sure it would be good for her father’s health to hear it. “What will you do?”
“Continue to search for my bag for a few days. Then I’ll go to my solicitor in London. Once that’s done, I’ll pay Eustace a visit.”
“Why?”
“To inform him of my new will, which disinherits him from all unentailed properties. I shall also tell him of my plan to marry.” He frowned. “But I must find those papers.”
“I’m sure you will have no trouble selecting a suitable bride. You are, for the most part, perfectly acceptable.”
“For the most part?” He cocked a dark eyebrow.
“You are attractive, undoubtedly. And a nobleman…”
He gave a cautious laugh. “I seem to detect a ‘but’ in there somewhere. Unless my English…”
“Don’t fudge,” she scoffed, looking at her hands. “Your understanding of English is excellent.”
He took her chin in his big hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “Then what?”
She shivered at his touch and tried to ignore the way her breath quickened. Annoyed, she pulled away from him. “Your wife must be prepared to obey her master in all matters. Entertain and embroider and keep the hearth fires burning while you hunt and shoot and visit your club in London or a mistress…”
His blue gaze heated, and he gripped her shoulders hard, making her wince, more from his closeness than discomfort. “Mon dieu, but you are a tease, Hetty!”
She wriggled out of his grasp. “Fanny Kemble is an excellent choice. She is very sweet-natured. Could it be Fanny?”
“Fanny? Where did that harebrained idea come from?”
