Page 17 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

She shook her head. “They hit a brick wall, just as I did. I also tried unconventional sources…Suzanna’s husband, John Bohnam, and his best friend, Gideon Knight. Gideon married another of my neighbors on Duchess Square, Lady Berry Thane. You will meet him if you join us for supper tonight. Those two men have connections to people in the less genteel parts of London.”

“And?”

“They were not successful either. But they did sense something clandestine, or certainly odd, was going on and that Andrew was alive. So we are split among me and my friends, half believing he is alive and the other half certain he is dead.”

“I see.”

“I appreciate your concern, but may we please stop talking about my situation now? This discussion was meant to be about you. Instead, we’ve spent the entire hour talking about me.” She glanced out the window. “It is growing late. I had better be going.”

He glanced at the untouched tea cart.

Well, neither of them had much appetite after that tormented discussion.

“I’ll escort you home,” he said. “I’m glad you will be dining with your cousin tonight. Your spending a night alone would have troubled me.”

She cast him a wry smile and slipped off his lap to stand up. “There’s no begging out of supper with Suzanna. You may have guessed by the zeal with which she barged into my home earlier that she is not one to take no for an answer. She will not hesitate to storm over and drag me out of my house if I dare send my regrets.”

He nodded in approval as he rose along with her. “Good. It is not healthy for you to be too much alone with your thoughts, especially after I have stupidly stirred them up. I am sorry, Gwen.”

She gave a short wave of her hand. “You would have learned of Andrew eventually.”

But not like this, James thought. He had been furious with Felicity Merriweather for ambushing him and his boys on a London street, and here he had done the same thing to sweet Gwendolyn in his own parlor. “Give me a moment to check on the boys, and then I’ll take you home.”

Her eyes looked a little brighter as she said, “You needn’t go out of your way for me. Fuller can take me to Duchess Square,” she said, referring to his driver. “It isn’t far.”

“Out of the question.” He was feeling rather protective of her just now. Perhaps overly possessive, too.

She was meant to be in his arms.

It could not be overlooked that she had felt quite comfortable in them, too. Was this not significant?

He certainly thought so.

This was all the more reason why he needed to be the one to watch over her and care for her. “You are my responsibility while under my roof, Gwen. I shall see you safely to your door.”

It mattered not that her heart belonged to Andrew Clement. How strong could her betrothed’s love for her be if he’d kept away even after the war ended?

Where in blazes was the bounder?

Nor did James care if the fellow was a bloody hero undertaking dangerous missions for the Crown.

Gwendolyn loved him. They were pledged to marry. How could he allow her to remain tortured with worry over him?

All it would have taken was a word from him. A simple note.

James excused himself a moment to make certain his sons were still on their best behavior. To his relief, he found Jordan comfortably settled in bed and Robert quietly seated beside him and reading a book to his brother.

He kissed them both on the forehead, made certain they had all they needed, and then returned to Gwendolyn.

“How are they?” she asked.

“Amazingly, not killing each other.” He escorted her to his carriage and settled on the seat bench opposite hers.

As his team of matched bays drew his barouche toward Duchess Square, he suddenly felt fatigued. It wasn’t from any physical strain, but more about his son’s getting hurt and then his learning about Gwendolyn’s situation. “Will you convey my apologies to your cousin? I think I had better remain close to Jordan tonight.”

“I understand. You want to be there should he take a sudden turn for the worse.”

“Yes.”