Thirteen
“Miss Adair,” Perceval said, “I cannot seem to recall where His Grace said he was away to, but he left a note for me to give you. I set it down in his study. If you will wait here a moment, I will retrieve it.”
Anne nodded, but when Perceval did not return after a spell, she ventured to Simon’s study and found the man there, shuffling through a pile of papers. “Ah, Miss Adair, I beg your pardon, but I seem to have misplaced His Grace’s note to you.”
Anne walked over to where Perceval stood and moved a few stacks of papers. She immediately saw her name scrawled on a note. As she went to pick it up, though, something else caught her eye: Ian Frazier’s name scratched on a piece of foolscap. She sucked in a sharp breath. Why had Simon written Ian’s name down? Was he trying to find him? Perhaps to exact revenge for what Ian had done to her? She knew it was wrong, but it pleased her that he might be trying to defend her.
“Perceval,” she said as casually as she could, “Does the name Ian Frazier mean anything to you?” Perhaps he had overheard something Simon had said to Rutledge or maybe his sisters.
“Oh yes!” Perceval said enthusiastically. “I forget a great deal,” he continued, though his voice now held a humorous note, “but I never forget His Grace’s business partners. I commit them to memory at night by reciting their names in case one comes to His Grace’s home.”
Uneasiness lodged in Anne’s belly. “You must be mistaken. I’m certain His Grace is not business partners with Mr. Frazier.”
“Oh, but he is,” Perceval said with clear confidence. “They are new business partners as of a few days ago. They are going to join forces to build more railroads. Mr. Frazier will be using His Grace’s lumber company. I heard His Grace speak to his solicitor about it.”
Anne’s stomach roiled with the news. Was Simon attempting to ruin her after all? Had he already known Ian and what Ian had done to her? Her mind raced with all sorts of terrible, horrifying scenarios. She had to depart before Simon returned. She needed time to think and sort through what she ought to do.
Once she arrived at her grandfather’s home, she went straight up to see him with thoughts of Simon and his possible nefarious plans swirling in her head. “Grandfather,” she called, tapping on his door.
“Enter, my dear,” he called, sounding hale and hearty.
Anne could not help but grin at the sight that greeted her. Her grandfather was up and standing, dressed, and looking very well. “You appear completely recovered,” she said.
“I am,” he replied, tapping his chest. “Fit as a fiddle, and just in time to attend the ball tomorrow night with you and Mary.” He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t think I’ve not noticed you have been gone an extraordinary amount lately. Is there possibly a man involved in your absences?”
She stilled, surprised but not completely. She should have known her very astute grandfather would take note of her comings and goings, even while he was ill. There would be no better time than now to be completely honest and perhaps find that missing piece of the puzzle she had been so sure was there before her last visit to Simon’s home.
“There is actually a lord that I have been becoming acquainted with,” she started.
“Yes, I knew. I questioned Mrs. Featherstone one evening when you were out late and she was here.”
“You did?” Anne asked, anxiety tightening her chest. She had intended to take her chaperone with her on more of her jaunts, but the older woman had been napping every time Anne had wanted to go out.
“Indeed. I am your grandfather. It is my job to ensure you are not falling prey to another rogue, even at your age,” he added, as if he had known the very argument she might use. “Mrs. Featherstone assured me that Jemma said that she herself was chaperoning you on your outings.”
“She did?” Anne blurted, having to fight the urge to grin. Jemma was the most wonderful sister to have covered for her in such a way.
“I was just coming to find you actually,” her grandfather said. “I only learned of all this a few hours ago, but what Mrs. Featherstone failed to discover is who this lord is who has your interest.”
Knots of anxiety formed in Anne’s stomach, but she took a deep breath and said, “Now, Grandfather, do not get upset. I’m being very careful and proceeding very slowly… It is the Duke of Kilmartin.”
A scowl immediately swept over her grandfather’s face. “Oh, my dear,” he said, his voice filled with notes of sadness and regret. “I fear the man is only pursuing you to strike at me.”
“I know that is what you think, Grandfather,” she replied, “and perhaps you are correct, but he repeatedly has proven honorable and kind, though I must admit I find myself racked with guilt that I could be developing a tendre for a man who wronged Mary.” She held her breath, praying her grandfather would reveal something that could give her hope. When he simply stared at her, she added, “You must be so upset with me, knowing for certain that he seduced Mary.”
Her grandfather’s shoulders slumped, and he turned, went to the settee, and sat. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Actually, I am not certain. I never was.”
Hope blossomed within Anne. She rushed to her grandfather, sat beside him, and took his hand in hers. “What do you mean? Did you not convince the former Duke of Kilmartin of his grandson’s guilt? Surely, you did not do such a thing without some sort of evidence.”
“I lied,” her grandfather said, shame washing over his face. “I…” He glanced away for a long moment before returning his gaze to her. “When Kilmartin seemed to be wavering about cutting ties with his grandson, I told him that I had seen the man coming out of Mary’s bedchamber in a state of dishabille.”
Anne gasped, then was overcome with anger. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Her grandfather sighed. “Mary was adamant that it had occurred, and I felt I had failed her by not protecting her. I did not want to fail to get the justice she had insisted upon after Kilmartin’s grandson refused to wed her. I had to break her betrothal because of her lost innocence, and she was left with no one to wed her. She told me Kilmartin’s grandson seduced her, and I chose to believe her and ignore my doubts.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I have worried over the years about what I may have unfairly caused if I believed in lies. Quite a few times in the years past has Mary shown that she will bend the truth when she pleases.”
“Oh, Grandfather! I honestly don’t think His Grace did anything untoward.”
“Perhaps not,” her grandfather said, “but that does not mean he is not purposely trying to seduce you now to hurt me. He must surely hate me, as he knows very well I never saw him leaving Mary’s bedchamber. If I were him, that hate would have festered through the years and I would be hard-pressed not to go to any lengths to attain my revenge. I’m afraid, my dear, though he may be innocent of seducing Mary, he is guilty of wishing to hurt me through you.”
Anne felt as if a storm of confusion was buffeting her from the inside out. She did not know what to believe.
Anne lay on her bed sometime later, staring blindly up at the ceiling. She had not gone down to supper when called, as she had no appetite, so she was not surprised when a knock came at her door. “Enter,” she called, assuming it was her grandfather coming to see why she was not below. She heard the creak of the door opening, and soft footsteps, but then all was silent.
She sat up, but immediately flopped back down onto her back at the sight of her sister smirking at her.
“That is a horrible greeting for someone who ensured you did not get into trouble with Grandfather.”
Anne sighed, but forced herself to sit up, as her sister was correct. “I’m sorry,” Anne said, while Jemma walked toward her and then sat on the bed. “I appreciate greatly what you did.”
Jemma surprised Anne by reaching over and giving her a hug. “Of course. You are my sister, and I love you. Which is why I’m concerned about you. Tell me what else has occurred with His Grace.”
Anne nodded, took a deep breath, and told Jemma about seeing Ian’s name scratched on paper on Simon’s desk and what Perceval said about Ian being Simon’s business partner.
“Well, he certainly does not need your money, so you can rule that out. Philip did a little snooping, and Kilmartin has more coin than he will be able to spend in ten lifetimes. And according to Philip there is no indication that the man is inclined to wish for more wealth or a wealthy wife to bring him more. He has actually been pursued by several heiresses and shown no interest in any of them.”
Anne could not have stopped the grin that pulled at her lips no matter how hard she tried. “Am I a fool?” she asked, hope for her and Simon gripping her.
Jemma chuckled as she patted Anne’s hand. “We are all fools when we are in love, dearest.”
“I never said I was in love,” Anne protested, though it was useless to deny it to herself. She had most definitely succumbed to Simon’s charms.
“It’s in your eyes, Anne, and in the chances you have taken, and your laughter! It’s lovely to hear you laugh again. I was worried after Ian that you would never open your heart to another. I’m certain His Grace has an explanation about Ian, simply ask him.”
“I feel certain now, too,” Anne replied. Actually, she felt as if a boulder had been lifted off her chest. It felt wonderful to give over her complete trust to him. Tomorrow, when she could see him, could not come soon enough.
Later that afternoon, after Simon had taken his sisters home and learned from Perceval that Anne had been there, he sat in Rutledge’s study facing the man. He was smiling and looking rather like a well-fed cat. “Lady Fanny said all of that? Truly?”
Simon nodded, repressing the urge to chuckle.
“I have always thought her lovely,” Rutledge said, “but honestly, I never considered that I would be in a position to court her. But now…”
“Now ye are,” Simon supplied for his friend. “And if ye find that ye suit…well, it will save the lady and ye may well end up with a wonderful wife. She seems bright and kindhearted, despite the mess she finds herself embroiled in.”
“Do you mind,” Rutledge said, standing, “if I beg off the rest of this conversation and go call on Lady Fanny?”
Simon did smile then. “I would be disappointed if ye did not,” he assured his friend and rose, as well. “I’ll see ye at the ball tomorrow night?”
Rutledge nodded. “Perhaps you will see me dancing with Lady Fanny,” he said with a smile.
Simon made his way home, though he really wished to go to see Anne. He knew at the moment it was impossible. Tomorrow night he would tell her how he intended to drive Frazier out of business, and then, perhaps, she would finally give her trust to him.
He had never wanted something so much. Not revenge. Not success. Just Anne, with her wit and her kindness, and he realized with a bark of laughter that she had awoken much more than lust in him. He wanted Anne to be his.