If Lady Ross's parasol has been a sword, there would have been murder done. Gray eyes flashing, she said furiously, "Believe me, I have no intention of forcing the girl into marriage with a degenerate wastrel, and I will stand up to the head of my family or anyone else who might try to coerce her. What I do intend is to see your brother in Newgate. Remember, Wolverton, kidnapping is a capital offense. Don't think you can buy his freedom with your influence. I am not without influence of my own. If a crime has been committed, I intend to see Lord Robert prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."
She spun on her heel and marched toward the door, her parasol clenched in her fist like a club. "If your benighted brother returns here, you would be wise to advise him to leave England, instantly and forever."
As Lady Ross reached the door, the marquess belatedly remembered who she was: a bluestocking reformer who had the ear of some of the most prominent politicians of both parties. Giles had heard of her for years and vaguely assumed that she was much older. Instead, the celebrated firebrand reformer was several years younger than himself, probably not much past thirty.
Bloody hell, she might indeed have the influence to cause the Andreville family considerable grief even if Robin had done nothing illegal. After swearing under his breath, Giles said, "Lady Ross, please hold a moment."
She turned and said ominously, "Yes?"
Giles crossed the room to his visitor, saying in his most conciliatory tone, "We should not have let our tempers run away with us. Naturally you are concerned for your niece, but truly, I think you are making a mistake. What matters is locating the girl, and I doubt you will find her with my brother. While there are certainly men whose behavior toward females is unconscionable, Robin is not one of them."
Her auburn brows arched. "Are you absolutely sure of that?"
Giles started to say that he was, but hesitated. "How much in life can one be absolutely sure of?"
"That is not a convincing endorsement for Lord Robert's honor," she said dryly.
"I have no doubts at all about my brother's honor." Incurably honest, Giles found himself adding, "However, some of his actions might be unconventional."
Her lip curled. "The more you speak of his honor, the more I want to count my spoons."
"I would trust him as I trust myself."
For a moment Lady Ross's face softened and Giles thought he might be persuading her. Then the stubborn set came back to her jaw. "You have the reputation of a just man, and your loyalty to your brother is commendable. Unfortunately, men can be honorable with each other, yet think nothing of mistreating women. If Lord Robert has been away from England for so many years, do you really know what he is capable of?"
The blasted woman was right Emotionally Giles believed in his brother, yet he was uneasily aware that Robin could not have survived a dozen years of spying in the heart of Napoleon's empire without a capacity for ruthlessness. "Robin has been shaped by forces different than the English beau monde, but I am sure he would never injure an innocent."
Lady Ross shrugged and turned away. "We shall see. I will not stop searching until I find my niece. And if your brother has harmed her, may God help him."
Then she was gone. Giles stared at the closed door for a long moment, feeling as if the church steeple had fallen on him. No one had ever made him so angry in his life, but even so, he was not proud of the way he had spoken to Lady Ross.
He turned back to the room, shaking his head. To his secretary, who had been watching in horrified fascination, he said, "What did you think of all that, Charles?"
The other man hesitated, then said tactfully, "I think that I would not like to have Lady Ross angry with me."
"And that if Robin is dallying with the lady's niece, he may find himself up to his chin in boiling water?"
Charles smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid so, my lord."
The marquess settled deep in his leather upholstered chair and considered. Preposterous though the idea seemed, the missing Maxima must be traveling to London by foot. Otherwise, Lady Ross wouldn't be so sure that her niece was in southern Yorkshire a week after leaving Durham.
It was hard to imagine a gently bred female undertaking such a journey; the chit must be desperate, depraved, or mad. Or perhaps it was merely that she was an American.
On the day he disappeared, Robin had planned to visit the west woods. The road that cut through the area might have been chosen by someone heading south from Durham. Robin had been emotionally drifting; if he had encountered an attractive, madcap girl, he might have decided on impulse to go with her. While Robin was no rake, he was also no saint, and he couldn't know the potential for scandal in taking up with this particular female.
Robin would have had little or no money on him. Maxima Collins must not have any funds, either, or she would have taken a coach to London. Giles thought that a romantic interlude without a feather to fly with sounded deucedly uncomfortable, but of course he was boringly conservative.
Could Robin have decided to escort the girl to London? Giles seized on the thought with relief; it was exactly the sort of quixotic thing his brother might do. However, if the wench was twentyfive and willing, they might soon be on terms far more intimate than the girl's aunt would approve of.
Lady Ross seemed more agitated than the situation warranted. Perhaps there was more to the story than she was admitting. Then again, maybe she was merely a termagant who enjoyed thundering about like a March storm.
Remembering the woman's rage at the suggestion, he acquitted her of conspiring with her niece to entrap Robin, but that didn't mean the girl herself was innocent of such intentions. Between his fortune and his personal attractions, Robin was a very good catch indeed. Possibly the wench had recognized that fact and decided to take advantage of the situation.
The marquess frowned as he reviewed his thoughts. The facts were that Robin had gone missing, and so had Miss Collins, and they had tentatively been identified as being together. The assumption was that they were traveling south toward London. If trouble befell them on the road, Robin would be handicapped by lack of money and identification.
Lady Ross was pursuing the fugitives, breathing fire and brimstone. If she found them, the results would be damned unpleasant. A scandal would injure the girl far more than Robin, but a vengeful Lady Ross might be too angry to care.
Robin might be indifferent to the prospect of scandal; the marquess, however, was not. Though he would face down the gossips if necessary, it would be far better to keep the affair private if at all possible. Which meant that he must go after the runaways himself. With luck, he would find them before Lady Ross, in time to head off disaster.
If the Sheltered Innocent insisted that only marriage would save her from ruin-well, the marquess would have something to say about that. Quite apart from Robin's personal happiness, his brother's wife would likely be the mother of a future Marquess of Wolverton, and Giles would not permit the line to become tainted with the blood of a vulgar, scheming hussy.
Gloomily he thought about how much he hated travel. Long hours in a jolting carriage, damp sheets, barely edible meals. And he didn't even have a proper valet at the moment since his previous one had just left and not yet been replaced.
In addition to the routine discomforts, he was going to feel like a damned fool chasing across the countryside after an American doxy, a retired spy, and a firebreathing reformer.
As he considered the prospect, the Marquess of Wolverton realized that he was smiling.
Chapter 6