“Where were you? Not in London,” she asked, her voice mild, deceptively so, he suspected.
He cleared his throat. “No. My neighbor had a problem and required my help.”
“Oh?” Her eyes searched his, doubting him. “What sort of problem?”
“His niece was missing. I went to find her.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. Happily, I was successful.” Hart’s fingers itched to loosen his cravat, but he resisted.
“So, a happy ending. How wonderful! I trust the little girl was unharmed?”
“Yes, but er, she’s not so little.” He found himself led helplessly down a dangerous path.
“How big is she?” she asked, frowning.
“Lady Madeline is twenty.”
“Twenty?”
“I believe so.”
“It is unusual to get lost at twenty. Is she pretty?”
“One might say so, yes. Vivian, I wish I could tell the whole, but I’m afraid I’ve promised discretion in the matter.”
Vivian stepped closer. Her expensive perfume scented the air as she placed a gloved hand on his chest and gazed up at him. “I might forgive you if you’ll escort me at the Forsters’ dinner party on Saturday.”
“My deepest regrets. I am in London only to visit my solicitor and the bank, and then I’m away to the country. Matters at Pembury need my urgent attention.”
Vivian nodded as she smoothed her gloves. “How disappointing.”
“Indeed, it is. I am deeply sorry,” he said, feeling like the worst scoundrel. “I shall return to London as soon as I am able.”
“Yes. We might dance, perhaps.” She walked to the door. “When you are sure that miss whoever she is hasn’t wandered off again.”
She went out the door and closed it with a sharp click.
It left Hart with the uneasy feeling Vivian had not finished with him. He spied a flash of emotion, like revenge, in her beautiful eyes. He disliked leading her on, and had been clumsy. And to think he’d once considered joining the diplomatic service.
In the morning, he visited his solicitor who acted on Hart’s behalf to sell the colliery in Newcastle-on-Tyne. “Matters move slowly, milord,” Upton said. “There are still quibbles over the contract.” He drew the papers out and placed them before Hart. Leaning across the desk, he pointed to items on a page. “I’ve marked them here.”
Hart read it through, then pushed the pages back to him. “That seems reasonable. I would like the matter concluded as soon as possible.”
Upton removed his glasses and gave them a quick polish, then replaced them on his nose to stare at him myopically. “One cannot hurry the law, milord.”
“So I see.” Frustrated, Hart rose and offered his hand. “Keep me informed, Mr. Upton.”
Forgoing the rest of the invitations which had landed on his desk, Hart dined with friends that evening and played cards at his club until late. Two friends who suspected he had a new lady in his life teased him unmercifully. But how could explain his relationship with Maddie when, should she decide against the marriage, it might disappear like a wisp of smoke? And Hart refused to mention her in the same breath as his previous brief affairs. All he would say was ‘in the fullness of time, gentlemen,’ which only made them more curious. Tate threatened to tie him to a lamppost until he gave the lady’s name up. Fighting them off good-naturedly, Hart went home to grab a few hours of sleep. He left the city for Tunbridge Wells right after breakfast.
Arriving back at the Pembury stables, Henry came to greet him. “Any interest in Pearl?” Hart asked him as he dismounted.
“Not a murmur from that quarter, milord,” Henry said.
“Good. Be sure to make yourself scarce if Wakeham should decide to visit. It’s best to admit him and let him have a good look around if he wishes.”
“I’ll keep an eye out, milord.”
