Page 73 of A Countess of Convenience

Had Downing misled them, sending them off to Swindon as a diversion? Was he this minute packing up their belongings, about to leave town for parts unknown? About to turn to Sir Reginald to ask his opinion, John caught a glimpse of Fenton, face white, hands gripping his glass of spirits, fear and shame looking out of his eyes.

“You say my wife’s daughter isn’t here, but your son is. I had the pleasure to meet Lord Fenton the other evening. He stood up with my sister, Miss Tate. Once, was it, my lord?”

“T…twice, Lord Haxby.” Not knowing what else to say, Fenton looked from John to his father and back. “Miss Tate is an excellent dancer, my lord.”

“I shall pass that compliment on to my sister, Fenton. She will be delighted. Such a kind thing to say. Didn’t you remark last night, my dear, how kind you thought Lord Fenton was for such a young gentleman?” John prayed Judith would take the hint and run with it.

He need not have worried.

“Yes, I did, Lord Fenton.” Judith sidled over to the young man. “I told John as well as my sister-in-law that I thought you were one of the kindest, most gentlemanlike partners she could hope for at the ball.”

“Fenton, she’s weaving a trap for you with sweet words. Don’t let her—”

Sir Reginald stepped in smoothly. “Swindon, my cousin, the Earl of Manning, said he’s asked you your opinion about a new pair of high steppers. Do you think you can give me some advice as well? I’m recently married…” Sir Reginald continued to distract Swindon.

John had best help Judith work on Fenton before the man agreed to buy a coach and four he didn’t need. John eased up behind his wife.

“Lord Fenton, I beg of you, if you know anything about the whereabouts of my daughter, please tell us.” Judith clutched the young man’s hand. “I haven’t seen her since November. A child misses her mother. I’m sure you have missed your mother whenever she’s been separated from you.”

“She died, my lady, when I was seven.” A sadness came over his face. “I still miss her.”

“Then for the sake of her memory, reunite me with my little one.” A single tear trickled down Judith’s cheek. If such a thing did not move Fenton, he had no heart to move.

The young lord sighed and whispered, “The second floor has the nursery. Up the main stairs then to the right.”

“Bless you, my lord.” Judith raised his hand and kissed it.

“Thank you, Fenton.” John clapped the young man on the back. “I’ll remember this.” He took Judith’s arm. “Sir Reginald, my wife is unwell. I will take her back to the carriage. This is the second time she has felt faint today. The first time I scarcely reached her before she hit the floor. We’ll be there in a moment, dearest, but you must lean on me.” He pulled Judith against him then met Sir Reginald’s gaze. “Take your time, Matthews. It will take me some minutes to get Lady Haxby settled. I’ll change from the carriage to the bed configuration so she can lie down.”

“Thank you, Haxby.” Sir Reginald nodded then retuned his focus to Swindon. “So you don’t think Arabians are the best breed for carriage horses? I was certain Manning had told me you did.” Blessing Matthews for his artful subterfuge, John cast a glance over his shoulder in time to see Lord Fenton pour himself another brandy. Quite likely the lad would need it when his father discovered the ruse.

Chapter 29

Once they were out of the library, John grabbed Judith’s hand and ran down the corridor toward the foyer and main staircase. The lack of lighted sconces both helped and hindered. They couldn’t see where they were going, but neither could anyone else see them. He slowed as he reached the foyer but hurried up the stairs. “Be careful, love. Tread light else we will be discovered too quickly.”

Nodding, Judith slowed a trifle. He believed it better to sacrifice a little speed to maintain stealth.

They reached the landing and turned right. By the faint light, he could make out two doors. He chose the first one and opened it quietly.

A young girl, about the age of ten, sat reading in a plain chair by the light of a candle. She looked up as they entered, her face pinched. “Have you come for Anna?”

Nodding, Judith burst into tears. She groped for a chair and sat, quite overcome.

“Who are you, child?” John wanted to ask if she was being detained also. No telling how many similar schemes Swindon had been involved in.

“Mary Styles.”

“And where is your home, Mary?”

“Here, sir. My father is Lord Swindon.” She spoke without fear. Perhaps he wasn’t a monster to his own children. “Did you want to see Anna?” She pointed to a door ajar an inch or so. “She’s through there.”

Quickly, John pushed the door open. There were two children’s beds, covered in neat but worn coverlets. Sound asleep in the nearest one lay a little girl, her golden curls spilling from her nightcap. Had John not known it was Anna, her face would have given her away, the image of her mother, save for her light curls. Gently, so as not to wake her, John scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the other room.

Judith’s head came up, her tears coming harder than ever, but he was certain they were tears of joy.

He placed the sleeping child in her arms, fulfilling his promise to Judith at last. Now he could use a drink of Swindon’s brandy himself.

Rocking back and forth, Judith crooned to the sleeping child, oblivious to John or the other girl or anything at all. As it should be. Still, they needed to get Anna home tonight. “My love, we must go. Do you wish me to carry her?”