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He gave the appearance of pondering the subject. “Well, I did hear Bloxley rage over a certain umpire’s calls during our cricket matches at Eton, but as he is unlikely to be playing cricket at his townhouse, I daresay you will be spared that.”

Elizabeth’s lips twitched. “I am glad for the forewarning, my lord. I shall endeavor to avoid the earl if I ever see him wearing his whites.”

“Most wise,” he said, manfully maintaining a straight face. “And now, I have something to return to you.”

He slipped his hand into the inside breast pocket of his coat and extracted an oval pendant on a gold chain.

“Oh,” Elizabeth said as he slid the piece of jewelry into her gloved hand. The pendant had been in her keeping for so a short time, she’d almost forgotten about it.

“Reynard had no need of it after all,” Lord Langton said. “It is best that you keep it.”

Elizabeth curled her fingers around the valuable piece, then carefully dropped it into her reticule. “Thank you, my lord.”

He offered her his arm. “I daresay the earl is wondering what is keeping us. Shall we?”

Elizabeth glanced at his arm uneasily. “I am hired help, my lord. It is not fitting that I enter the earl’s house at your side.”

“No matter your position in this house, Miss Doyle, you are Reynard’s closest friend.” He did not lower his arm, and she raised her head to meet his brown eyes. There was something in their depths that she could not fully identify, but it caused her heart to ache. Although she’d been well on her way to falling in love with Reynard before she’d discovered his true identity, it should have been easy to set those feelings aside when she’d learned of his deception. Indeed, the hurt she’d experienced would likely have squashed those early stirrings of her heart if only Lord Langton had treated her with the disregard she’d expected from a member of the nobility. But he had not. Instead, he had proven to be just as gallant as his alter ego, and she knew she could not turn him down now—not when this may be the last time they would ever be together. Lowering her eyes once more, she set her hand on his arm, and without another word, he walked her up the steps toward an imposing navy-blue front door.

Chapter 23

Jonas let the brass knocker fall against Alexander’s front door. Surely the worst was behind him now. By focusing on relieving Miss Doyle’s anxiety, he had managed to put aside his own. All that remained was to give her over to Mrs. Turley’s care, and then he could turn his attention to catching Forwood. That endeavor would undoubtedly keep him sufficiently busy to prevent him from dwelling on thoughts of the innkeeper’s daughter.

The door opened to reveal Alexander’s staid butler. The older man inclined his head politely. “Good morning, Lord Langton.”

“Good morning, Hastings,” Jonas said. “I believe Lord Bloxley is expecting us.”

“He is, my lord,” the butler said, opening the door wider and taking Jonas’s hat.

“In the study, I assume,” Jonas said.

“No, my lord. The earl has asked that you meet him in the drawing room.”

The drawing room? Jonas gave the butler a second look. In all the years Jonas had known Alexander, he’d entered the drawing room of this house perhaps three times. With her advancing years making travel difficult, Lady Bloxley rarely left Bloxley Hall in Berkshire, and with no hostess at his London house, Alexander seldom entertained guest. Those who did visit were usually single men who were more than happy to meet him in his well-appointed study.

With a frown, Jonas glanced down the passageway. Did he even remember which door led to the drawing room?

Hastings must have anticipated his quandary because with a knowing look, he started across the hall. “This way, my lord.”

With Miss Doyle trailing behind, Jonas followed the butler to the second door on the left. Hastings gave a light knock before entering.

“Lord Langton and Miss Doyle, my lord,” he said.

Alexander rose from his seat to greet them. “Thank you, Hastings.”

The butler inclined his head, offered a small bow to Jonas, and quietly left the room. Jonas turned to Miss Doyle. She was gazing around Alexander’s drawing room, her eyes wide. When it came to decorating, Lady Bloxley favored the elaborate and ornate, and Jonas could not deny that this room most certainly showcased her taste.

Lavish molding decorated the gold ceiling and walls. The green velvet curtains hanging at each window were tied back with long gold tassels and matched the green upholstery on the chairs and sofas. The gold and green décor was accented with polished mahogany coffee tables and chests of drawers, while crystal vases of fresh flowers and candelabras vied for attention with the many family portraits hanging around the room.

“Welcome to Claremont House, Miss Doyle,” Alexander said.

“Thank you, my lord.” Her hands were clasped tightly around the strings of her reticule, and Jonas guessed that at the sight of such opulence, the trembling he’d felt in her fingers when he’d helped her out of the carriage had returned.

“What news, Alexander?” he said, hoping to buy Miss Doyle some time to collect herself.

“I’ve been to Bow Street and have filed a report,” the earl said. “Two runners will be here later this afternoon to accompany us to Little Tilbury.”

“Very good.” He glanced at Miss Doyle. Her color seemed improved. “And Mrs. Turley? Is she expecting Miss Doyle this morning?”