Chapter Nineteen
Edward wasted no time in paying a call to the mysterious Miss Drake. He was extremely surprised, on arriving at the address Mr Stirling had given him, to find himself shown in with great enthusiasm and directed to the dining room.
"They are just sitting down to breakfast!" exclaimed the butler, who was all beaming smiles.
Edward frowned. A household who breakfasted this late in the day was not one to his tastes at all. He began to expect that he would find nothing more in Miss Drake than a flighty, frivolous young Miss with a penchant for frills and an empty head.
As it happened, he was on all counts absolutely wrong.
The footman at the door to the dining room took his name with what Edward thought was an improper touch of surprise. The noise which emanated from the room was much greater and more raucous than a simple breakfast ought to produce, but the moment the Duke of Redhaven was announced, a painful hush descended.
Edward was still not accustomed to this evidence of his fearful reputation. It seemed there was no corner of London where his name was welcome.
The moment he entered the room, however, understanding dawned.
He was not interrupting breakfast. He was interrupting the wedding breakfast.
The wedding breakfast of none other than his cousin, Reginald Thorne. The scoundrel who had beaten a manservant to within an inch of his life, the blackguard who lived beyond his means and came begging his wealthier relations for money on a regular basis, and the fraudster who had cheated his way through every card table in England.
"Edward!" cried Reginald, half-mangling the name in his shock. "What are you doing here?"
"You will address me as Your Grace," said Edward coldly. "We are not children any more, Mr Thorne. There is no need for us to pretend to be friends."
Reginald's paramour was a sharp-faced young woman with a rather feline smile. Her parents were hosting the wedding celebration – naturally. Edward doubted Reginald had the funds for a wedding.
The sharp-faced woman laid a hand on Reginald's arm. "My love," she murmured, "I think we already know what brings your cousin here, do we not?"
Edward was beginning to suspect that he would now be able to uncover the mystery of Angelica's departure without too much effort. "What did you do to her?" he demanded, striding forwards until only the decorated table stood between him and his cousin. The assembled company gasped in horror quite satisfactorily. For once, Edward relished his reputation as a murderer. "If you have harmed a hair on her head –"
Reginald gulped, Adam's apple bobbing. "I told her the truth... Your Grace."
"What truth?" Edward growled. Reginald took a step back. His wife, still smiling in that disconcertingly catlike way, moved in front of him.
"My, my," she purred. "Can it be true? Is it more than injured pride that moves you, Your Grace?" She laughed a tinkling laugh and pressed a hand to her lips. "I can hardly believe it! And, Reginald, to think you told me your cousin was cold-hearted!"
"He is the worst man in England," Reginald protested.
"But he is in love," smirked the bride – Miss Drake, Edward could only presume. "Look at his face! It's all quite plain. Oh, dear." She laughed again. "Oh, my."
"Valentina, my dear, let us talk about this privately," said Reginald, eyeing Edward nervously.
"Why on earth should we do that?" asked Valentina, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "Don't you want our guests to join the fun? This is the man whose loneliness will make me Duchess of Redhaven, after all."
A smug smile broke out over Reginald's face. It was all Edward could do not to punch it.
"That's true, my dearest!" Reginald chortled. "In love, are you, Edward? That's all the better – it took you ten years to stop weeping over your sister – only imagine how long it'll take to fix a broken heart!"
"Long enough to see him safely off the marriage market," said Valentina. "And, with any luck, safely into a grave! Which is good news for us, is it not, my love?"
"What did you say to Angelica?" growled Edward. The fire in his eyes must have matched the conflagration in his heart – Reginald was back to quailing in an instant.
"Come now, husband," said Valentina calmly. "There's no need to be afraid. He's only a man, after all. Not the demon his reputation makes him out to be. How sad that Angelica isn't here to see him so lost and alone!"
"I am very far from lost, Mrs Thorne," said Edward, through gritted teeth. "I must warn you to take care over the way you speak to me. If you have been foolish enough to marry my cousin, you have my condolences. But I will make no family allowances for you."
"What will you do?" teased Valentina, eyes sparkling as though they were dancing a waltz at some glorious ball. "You cannot challenge me to a duel. And you would not raise your hand against a woman, surely?"
"I can challenge him." Edward lifted his hand and pointed at Reginald, who leapt back as though there were already a pistol in his hand.
"Edward – no – for goodness' sake – for my father's sake –"
"You don't deserve to bear your father's name," Edward spat. "A duel, Reginald. It's a question of honour. I won't let you get away with this unscathed."
"Oh, help me!" screamed Valentina, flailing her arms around to draw the attention of her guests – as though there were a single eye in the room not on them already. "The murderous Duke of Redhaven means to slaughter my husband!"
"I won't," Reginald spluttered. "I – I can't!"
"Hang it all, man!" hissed the man sitting at his right-hand side. "Do you mean to duck out of a duel here, in front of everyone you know?"
"I can't!"
Reginald's friend rose to his feet and whispered urgently into his ear. "You cannot honourably refuse. You have just admitted to insulting the Duke's honour where everyone could hear you. Find your spine, man! Don't be a coward!"
"Hampstead Heath," said Edward. "A week from now. Dawn."
"I accept," whispered Reginald, though his eyes pleaded for mercy.
"I will withdraw my challenge if you tell me where Angelica has gone," said Edward. Reginald's misery was so complete he almost found it in his heart to pity him.
"I don't know!" Reginald wailed, just as Valentina cut in:
"We haven't taken her. If you have lost your own fiancée that's your lookout. As you can see, Reginald has not been so careless. And now, Your Grace, unless you are about to wish us joy – which I doubt –"
"Oh, I'm leaving," said Edward. Valentina was left with her mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish on dry land.
"Well – good!"
Edward had never been the type to lower himself to a wrestling match for the last word. He simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, listening to the rustle of shocked whispers that rose up behind him.
He was no closer to finding Angelica. He had just embroiled himself in a duel the likes of which he had once vowed to avoid ever more.
He had, however, reduced Reginald Thorne to a snivelling worm on his wedding day, and that was some small comfort.