I was about to face my parents’ killer with a heavy heart from thinking of the man who would never be mine, while Blackford stepped out of the carriage looking completely unruffled and held out a hand to help me out.
I smoothed my afternoon dress with my palms, straightened my hat, and climbed down. I couldn’t hide the pleasure his words gave me.
Lord Harwin’s footman knocked on the front door while I looked at the house. Much smaller and older than the Harwins’ palatial block, it had a faded air from the grimy stonework to the chipped paint on the window sashes. When the door opened, Harwin’s footman announced us and handed over our calling cards. The butler held the door wide, and we walked in.
I glanced back to see the footman saunter back to the carriage, the driver sliding over in the seat to make room for him. No doubt they planned to take advantage of their freedom from work by sitting and gossiping.
“If you’ll wait in the parlor, Sir Wallace will join you in a moment,” the butler said as he shut the front door and opened one off the hall.
The room was done in washed-out gold and pale blue. Sunshine didn’t seem to penetrate beyond the overgrown bushes outside the windows. The duke grabbed my hands, and I discovered I was wringing them.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, Georgina. I know how much this means to you, meeting an old friend of your father’s from India.”
Was he suggesting I pretend that was why I was here when I finally met him? It wouldn’t work. He would recognize me as surely as I’d known him the moment I saw him.
Sir Wallace Vance entered the room and we went through a round of bows and curtsies. After we were seated, he asked, “To what do I owe this honor, Your Grace?”
“Actually, I came at the request of Mrs. Monthalf. She recognized one of your guests at the ball last night as a friend of her father’s in India. She hopes to renew the acquaintance.”
“I’m afraid you’re too late. They’ve left already. Which one of my guests was it?”
“He’s a well-dressed older gentleman with silver hair.”
“That describes both my guests.”
“Tall, has a faint accent—”
“Again. Both of them.”
“He’s in the antiquarian book business.”
“Any guest who’s ever been here is interested in antiquarian books. That’s what we have in common.” Sir Wallace shifted in his chair, clearly wanting to stand and end our interview, but reluctant to upset a wealthy, antiquarian-buying duke.
I couldn’t say that the man I searched for had icy pale eyes and a cruel mouth. “He has the habit of carrying his newspaper neatly folded and tucked under one arm.”
“We all do that if our hands are occupied.”
“He does that even if his hands are free.”
Sir Wallace squinted in concentration. “It must be Mr. Wolf. He has that habit.”
“I was told your two guests were Count Farkas and Mr. van der Lik.”
“Formally, he’s Count Farkas. In England, he often goes by Mr. Wolf. He finds it simpler when doing business.”
“Is that a translation of his name from his native tongue?” Blackford asked.
“Yes. Hungarian. He’s a member of their nobility.”
The same name I’d heard from my South African contact. I had a name and a nationality for the man who killed my parents. I could have cheered. Remembering that I mustn’t destroy my persona, I asked, “Do you know where Mr. Wolf is headed?”
“To the continent. Where, exactly, he didn’t tell me. There’s a Gutenberg Bible he’s pursuing.” Sir Wallace shrugged. “He’s been seeking it for years. I hope he gets it. What a trophy.”
“I’d hoped to renew his acquaintance, but I guess that’s not to be. If you hear from him, please tell him I was hoping to speak to him.”
“Where should he get in touch with you?”
I glanced at the duke and smiled. “Have him write to me at Blackford House.”
* * *
UNFORTUNATELY, THE DUKE had already agreed to stay until the morning, which meant Phyllida, Emma, and I had to. Our house party was joined for dinner that night by the Marquis of Tewes and his guests. Dinner was pleasant enough, seated between a younger son, who was far too interested in the wines being served, and a married, middle-aged earl whose passion was outdoor sports. I didn’t believe England held as many birds as he claimed to have shot. At least the food was good and no one took credit for shooting any of the courses.
I looked down the long, crystal- and white-linen-covered table at Blackford. He was seated between Lady Harwin and Lady Ormond. Two middle-aged women wearing jewels and dour expressions. The picture of his wife in twenty years. Neither woman looked capable of joyous laughter, frightening exploits, or wild passion.
I’d never be a duchess.
Blackford didn’t appear to be enjoying their company. I couldn’t hide a small smile of satisfaction.
Lady Bennett, sitting nearby, said, “What are you smiling about?”
I went for the blandest explanation. “I’m enjoying the food, the conversation, everything about this dinner. The Harwins are excellent hosts.”
“Too bad you’re leaving in the morning. My sister and her husband, the Viscount Chattelsfield, will be here in the afternoon for tea. You could have reminisced about Singapore with them.”
I smiled as if that were a wonderful idea. Thank goodness I’d be back in London by then. “What a shame. Perhaps I’ll be introduced to them another time.” But not if I could help it.
I was leaving in the morning for stifling London and my own comfortable, middle-class life, my friends, and my bookshop. I could hardly wait. But I’d leave a little piece of my heart behind.
When the ladies retired to the parlor after dinner, I found myself the subject of Lady Ormond’s inquisition. “How is your ankle, Mrs. Monthalf?”
“Fine, thank you. I’ve quite recovered.”
“That was a foolish thing to do, to race out into the street. Whatever caused you to do that?”
She wore a sly smile as if she hoped the duke and I had quarreled. “I thought I saw an old friend of my father’s. I wanted to let him know I was in the area.”
“So did you get in contact with this—old friend?”
“No. I saw him at the ball last night, and then went with Ranleigh, I mean Blackford, to the home where he was staying. Unfortunately, the gentleman had been called away in the morning, and I missed him.” I glanced around the room. No one looked in our direction, but no one else was speaking. Apparently their curiosity about Georgina Monthalf hadn’t been satisfied.
I planned to retire Georgina tomorrow. I wondered if any of them would wonder what had happened to her.
“How unfortunate. And after your clever search of Lady Harwin’s main floor looking for stolen documents.”
I stared at her, wondering how much she had guessed. “Thank you.”
“The Duke of Blackford must like clever women. Of course, he liked Lady Peters, and I’m now told she was a spy.”
“I liked Lady Peters. I’m sorry she killed a man and endangered England’s naval superiority.”
“I feel so sorry for her son. Losing both his parents so young,” a woman’s voice said.
“I know his father’s sister. She, her husband, and their children love that little boy. They’ve been raising him as much as his mother has,” another upper-class woman’s voice said.
“Sounds like Lady Peters was engaged in men’s work to me. Aren’t you afraid being clever will make you too masculine to attract a duke?” Lady Ormond’s smile was pure venom.
“Cleverness isn’t masculine. I can think of several married ladies who are clever.” I turned to Lady Harwin. “I’ve had a wonderful time in your lovely home. I’m so sorry events ruined your delightful party.”