His mouth twisted wryly. "Indeed it does. The most interesting of which is that the Spider is no doubt very much alive and wants everyone to think him dead. Which leads us to the conclusion that he may presently be enjoying a position as an accepted member of Society and wants to continue living his new life. He clearly has a great deal to lose now if the truth about his past should emerge. And that makes him more dangerous than ever."
Augusta considered that closely. "Yes, I see what you mean."
"The more I reflect on tonight's event's, my dear, the more I believe you had a very close brush with disaster. I have only myself to blame."
Augusta grew alarmed. She was learning that whenever Harry got that tone in his voice, he usually started issuing orders. "Oh, pray, do not blame yourself, my lord. It was an accident and will most certainly not happen again. The next time I receive a strange note I shall come straight to you with it, I swear."
He eyed her morosely. "We shall take steps to ensure that you do so, Augusta. You and Meredith are not to leave this house without either myself as an escort or at least two footmen in attendance. I shall choose the servants I wish to accompany you and I shall inform Craddock you are not to go anywhere without them."
"Very well, my lord." Augusta heaved a sigh of relief. It was not as bad as it could have been, she told herself. He could have gone so far as forbidding her to leave the house without him. As he was rarely available these days, that would have meant virtual imprisonment for herself and Meredith. She congratulated herself on a narrow escape.
"Do I make myself clear, madam?"
Augusta inclined her head acquiescently, as a dutiful wife should. "Very clear, my lord."
"And furthermore," Harry added deliberately, "you are not to go out at night, with or without the footmen, unless I am with you."
That was too much. Augusta promptly fought back. "Harry, you go too far. I assure you Meredith and I will take an entire brigade of footmen with us at all times if that is your wish, but you cannot confine us to the house every evening."
"I am sorry, Augusta," he said, not ungently. "But I will not be able to concentrate on my investigations if I am not assured you are safe at home."
"Then you can be the one to tell your daughter that she cannot go to Astley's Amphitheatre tomorrow night," Augusta announced.
"You were planning to take her to Astley's?" Harry frowned. "I am not at all certain that would have been a particularly sound choice of entertainment. Astley's is famous for its silly spectacles and melodrama. Women flying about on horseback and that sort of thing. Not particularly elevating or educational for a young child, do you think?"
"I think," Augusta said bluntly, "that Meredith will enjoy it immensely. And so will I."
"Well, in that case, I believe I can adjust my schedule to allow me to escort the two of you to Astley's tomorrow evening," Harry said smoothly.
Augusta was caught completely off balance by the unexpected capitulation. "You will?"
"Pray do not look so astounded, my dear. As the victor in our duel tonight, I can afford to be generous to the loser."
"Victor? Who named you the victor?" Augusta grabbed the pillow and began pummeling him unmercifully with it.
Harry's laughter was husky and liberally laced with masculine passion.
The entertainment at Astley's was not nearly as dull as Harry had feared. It was not, however, the ladies dashing about on horseback, the music, or the inane melodrama with its fireworks and singing heroes that held his serious attention. What held Harry's gaze was the sight of his wife and daughter leaning precariously out of the box to watch the proceedings below.
Augusta had been right about one thing. Meredith was enjoying herself to the hilt. It struck Harry again just how much his overly serious daughter had blossomed during the past few weeks. It was as if she were discovering the pleasures of childhood for the first time.
The sight made him do something he rarely did, and that was to doubt the wisdom of one of his own carefully considered decisions. It occurred to Harry that the strict educational curriculum he had ordained for Meredith during the past few years might have been a bit severe. Perhaps he had not allowed for enough harmless fun and play in the schedule.
Harry watched Meredith gasp with amazement as a young lady in the ring below vaulted over a barrier of several scarves and landed safely on the rump of a galloping pony. It was obvious his daughter was thriving under the new regime, he thought ruefully. He would be lucky indeed if she did not develop aspirations to take a balloon voyage or join Astley's troop of daring bareback riders.
His gaze shifted to his wife, who was pointing out the villain of the piece to Meredith. The brilliant glow from the huge chandelier suspended over the center of the stage caught the rich highlights in Augusta's hair. The words she had spoken to him so beseechingly last night rang in his ears. I want to feel as though I belong…
He knew she was still struggling with the feeling of not being part of a family like the one she had once known. She was the last of the Northumberland Ballingers and she had been feeling very much alone since her brother's death. He understood that now.
But how could Augusta not realize just how much a part of his small family she had become? Harry wondered. Surely she saw how Meredith was becoming increasingly dependent on her. True, the child did not yet seem inclined to call Augusta Mother, but that no longer seemed quite so important to Harry.
Augusta 's tendency to agitate herself because her husband did not get down on his knees and proclaim his everlasting love was ridiculous. A typical example of her overly emotional nature. As far as Harry was concerned he had more than amply demonstrated his affections. And his trust. Harry scowled, thinking of just how indulgent he had been with his new countess.
Any other man who had witnessed a wife climbing back into the house through a window at midnight would have assumed he had just been cuckolded.
Last night Augusta should have been begging for forgiveness and vowing to never again pursue adventure. Instead, she had lost her temper and challenged her husband to a duel.
The woman had been reading too many novels, that was the problem.
I want to have the kind of bond with you that Sally and Peter do.
Naturally he had excluded her from the investigations, Harry thought. Not only because she lacked experience, which was reason enough, but because he had not wanted her troubled by further indications of her brother's connection to the case.
Now Harry wondered if he had a right to keep Augusta out of the investigation. Like it or not, she was involved because her brother had apparently been involved. Perhaps the last of the Northumberland Ballingers had a right to know the truth.
Harry listened to the music swell as the performance below came to a conclusion. Horses and actors both took their bows to several rounds of enthusiastic applause.
Meredith talked nonstop in the carriage on the way back to the town house.
"Papa, do you think I could learn to ride a horse the way the lady in pink did?"
"I do not think you would find the skill particularly useful," Harry said, his eyes flicking to Augusta's amused face. "One rarely is called upon to ride standing up on top of a horse."
Meredith frowned at that logic. "I suppose not." Then she brightened again. "Was it not exciting when the pony rescued the lady?"
"Very."
"What part did you like best, Papa?"
Harry smiled slowly, his eyes again on Augusta. "The scenery."
As the carriage came to a halt in front of the town house, Harry touched Augusta's arm. "Stay a moment, if you please." He glanced at Meredith. "Go on inside, Meredith. Augusta will be along in a moment."