The Romantic (5 page)

He made his own way through the silent house to the library where the man waited.

The visitor sat on a sofa. He was round faced and bland in countenance, and insignificant in presence and size. One had to look closely to even notice this man existed. The ability to be unseen was one of his great talents.

He looked over with eyes that could reveal a deep cunning if the anonymous mask slipped.

“She was not there,” he said simply.

“She had to be. The person who saw her knows her well. Veil or not, the identification was not likely to be wrong.”

“I said she was not there when I went for her. I did not say she never was there. I found a night servant who says a lady of her description, always veiled, was a guest there for a few days. But she is gone now, and her trunks were moved just this night. I must have missed that by an hour, no more.”

Glasbury barely contained his anger. The little bitch had slipped away again.

He would find her, however. He would no longer tolerate the way she had repudiated his rights. He would no longer bear the humiliation she had heaped on him with her willfulness. He certainly would not stand still while she used his name to promote revolting ideas that directly insulted him.

He no longer needed to.

“Where did the trunks go?”

“The manager said he does not know. He did not like my waking him to ask about it, and he could have been expressing displeasure by not giving me what I wanted. I could try and make him talk if you—”

“No, we can’t have you doing that. The police will be involved if you get rough.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Have your colleague keep a watch on her house, in case it is opened. I will let you know when I need you again.”

Glasbury did not expect that house to be opened. If Penelope was no longer at the hotel, he knew where she most likely had gone. She had probably run to hide behind her brother Laclere.

Well, he knew how to handle that. His rights of possession
had been compromised in all kinds of ways these last years, but not where she was concerned. It would be more complicated to fight her family, but he would prevail.

After all, he owned her.

chapter
4

J
ulian was surprised in the morning by a summons to La-clere’s house. He left Mrs. Tuttle to see to Penelope’s comfort and rode his horse to the one o’clock appointment.

He was shown to the viscount’s study. Laclere’s dark head rose at once from its contemplation of some documents on the desk when Julian entered.

“I am expecting a caller. I thought I should have you here when he comes,” Laclere said without formality. “I wrote to you as soon as I received his letter in the morning post.”

“Someone was rude enough to demand to call? It is generous of you to receive him.”

“It was Glasbury.” Laclere’s normally bright blue eyes wore a dulling concern. “I can’t imagine what he wants, since he and I have not spoken in years. I assume it is about Pen, of course.”

They chatted about the banquet as they waited, carefully avoiding the subject of Lady Laclere’s designs where a certain bachelor was concerned.

A visitor soon arrived, but it was not the Earl of Glasbury. Laclere’s brother Dante entered the study and greeted Julian.

In face and stature Dante was a more refined version of his brother. Where the viscount’s features had a roughly hewn quality, Dante’s were smooth and perfect, as if the sculptor’s rasp had sought to make all the edges subordinate to the total effect.

Dante raked his fingers through his brown hair in a gesture that spoke befuddlement.

“I received a letter from Glasbury this morning. He said he was meeting with you and suggested I attend.”

“The mystery is getting thicker,” Laclere said.

“More than you know. I saw Charl’s carriage coming as I entered the house.”

“If he wants to meet with the whole family, he must be planning a dramatic announcement.”

“Maybe he intends to pursue a divorce,” Dante said. “Rather late for that, I would say.”

Julian did not say a word. Both these men had long ago accepted his silences, and today that was extremely convenient.

Charlotte entered, looking much like her older sister with her dark hair and pale skin and middling height. She had always been more slender than Penelope, and her eyes were more worldly and shrewd. It was not that Charlotte was hard in her appearance and outlook, but that Penelope was so soft.

She explained that she had received a letter similar to Dante’s. “I considered ignoring it, since I cannot imagine why he wants me here. Aren’t such things supposed to be too important for a woman’s participation?”

“The earl almost has me interested in this business,” Laclere said.

“Glasbury is many things, dear brother, but interesting is not one of them.” She turned her attention to Dante. “How is Fleur?”

Dante smiled the smile that brought women to swoons. “Glowing. Serene. I am the one who will age ten years before this child comes.”

“Do not get into a state so soon. There are still many months for that,” Laclere said. He glanced at the clock on a shelf behind him. “He is late. No doubt that is Glasbury’s way of exercising his precedence.”

“I hope it is a divorce,” Dante said. “I would like to see Pen completely free of him.”

Charlotte’s attention slid around the room and came to rest on Julian. “Do you know what this will be about?”

“I agree with your brother that it probably has to do with your sister.”

“That is obvious. Do you know just what it has to do with her? Did she write to you from Naples about something that she neglected to tell any of us?”

“If she did, it was a private correspondence, Charl,” Laclere said. “You have benefited from Hampton’s discretion, so allow Pen to as well. I am sure that none of us wants the whole family knowing all of our legal affairs.”

Charl retreated, but not before she cast Julian a very sharp and suspicious glance.

Glasbury arrived just late enough to make his point that others wait for him and not the other way around. He was brought to the study at half past one.

He was not alone. A man of neat but common appearance accompanied him. This other man stayed near the
door like a servant and did not advance on the assembled party as the earl did.

Julian barely received the earl’s acknowledgment during the greetings. However, he did not miss that the nod in his direction was accompanied by a smug smirk that temporarily twisted the earl’s flaccid mouth.

Julian did not allow himself to react, but a small fury swirled in his head. He hated Glasbury, and not only because of Penelope. The man embodied all of the decadence and callousness that inherited privilege could breed when it was visited on the wrong kind of character. He wielded his power irresponsibly and selfishly

Most recently the earl had been one of the few lords to argue against the bill abolishing slavery in the colonies, because he owned some plantations in the West Indies that would be affected economically. Few men in Parliament had the audacity to stand on the side of selling human beings anymore, but it had not bothered Glasbury to do so at all.

Worse, that smirk had reflected triumph. It was the reflexive expression of a man who knew he had won a game. Julian’s concern for Penelope instantly deepened.

Glasbury took a position beside Laclere s chair so he could look down on the dark head of the man sitting in it. Julian considered that it was probably the earl’s only opportunity to do so, since Laclere towered over Glasbury when they both stood.

The earl’s slender body assumed a military rigidity. With his gray hair and lined face, he appeared a generation older than anyone else in the chamber even though he had only ten years on Laclere.

“I have little time to waste on this business, so I will be
blunt,” Glasbury said with all possible pomposity. “I demand to know where she is.”

“By she, you must mean our sister. Penelope is in Naples, as you know. You wrote to her there.”

“She is not in Naples any longer. She was seen in London yesterday. I have learned that she took a room at Mivert’s Hotel upon her return, but she is no longer at the hotel this morning.”

“I am sure that whoever saw her is mistaken. If my sister did return to London, she would not have to reside at a hotel, since she has a house. Did you try calling there?”

“The house remains closed. There has been no activity to indicate she is living there.”

“Glasbury, forgive me for not being overcome with concern at your pique, but it has been many years since my sister’s activities were your business or interest. I assure you that she is in Naples, but if she is not, what do you care?”

“She is my wife.”

“In name.”

“In
the law.”

“In reality she has not been your wife for over a decade.”

“The law is the only reality that matters, as Hampton here can explain to you. I am done indulging her whims on the issue.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dante asked. “Do you plan to change the legal reality by divorcing her?”

“Indeed not. I have decided that our long estrangement is no longer acceptable. Laclere, I demand that you return her to me.”

Laclere s eyes reflected astonishment. Julian could see
the truth sink in, and the dismay that after all these years the earl wanted Penelope back.

“I cannot return what I do not have.”

“If you are hiding her—”

“My home is always open to her, and when she visits she does not have to hide. But she is not in this house, or at Laclere Park, or even in England.”

“I demand that you prove it. That man by the door is Mr. Lovejoy. He is an inspector with the Metropolitan Police. He will search this house to see if my wife is here.”

“The hell he will,” Dante said.

Laclere leveled a piercing gaze on Mr. Lovejoy. “You brought the police into my home, Glasbury?”

“It was necessary.”

“I doubt Mr. Lovejoy agrees. You are not searching for a criminal. The inspector’s authority in such a case is ambiguous at best. Isn’t that so, Hampton?”

Julian donned his most severe professional demeanor. “Most ambiguous. I assume, Mr. Lovejoy, that the superintendent is aware of your intentions?”

Mr. Lovejoy mumbled something noncommittal.

“In any case, Laclere’s word as a gentlemen is good enough for the police, is it not, sir?”

Another mumble was accompanied by a vague nod.

“There. That is settled,” Laclere said, dryly.

Lovejoy, recognizing a dismissal when he heard it, ducked out of the room.

Glasbury’s face got red. “When I learn that you are lying, I will—”

“Be careful, Glasbury.” Laclere’s voice turned steely. “The insult of bringing Lovejoy here cannot be excused, and I do not take well accusations that I am a liar.”

The earl turned to include Dante and Charlotte in his final pronouncement. “If any of you take her in, you will deal with me. If I learn that she is living on any of your properties, I will make you regret that you have interfered. Do not doubt that I will bring the full force of my rights and influence to bear on the matter.”

He strode from the study.

“Vergil, we must do something,” Charlotte said, her expression barely recovering from her shock. “For heaven’s sake, he really expects to force her to come back.”

“It is the heir,” Dante said. “He must be, what, forty-five now. There he is, with no son and no way to get one since he has a wife who has left him. I always thought it odd that he let her go before there was a son.”

Laclere darted a glance at Julian. “Yes, well, I expect he had his reasons for such generosity.”

Charlotte did not miss the pointed look. “You know what those reasons were, Mr. Hampton. You negotiated that separation. It was a private arrangement, and you were the mediator.”

That brought Dante’s expectant attention on him, too. Julian tried his usual silence but their expressions indicated it would not work this time.

“Madame, I did as your sister bid me do. We were fortunate that the earl saw the rightness of her preference and did not force her to remain in his home.”

“Oh, don’t turn into the lawyer on us, Hampton,” Dante said. “You procured an allowance and her freedom. There had to be a reason he agreed to it. What was it?”

Julian refused to respond.

Charlotte gave him a critical glare. “Well, if you should have any communication with my sister, please tell her
that she is welcome in my home, and that Glasbury can do his worst. That little toad does not frighten
me.
If he brings Mr. Lovejoy to
my
house, I will tell the footmen to throw them both out.” Marching like a palace guard, her parasol pumping like a baton, she headed for the door. “If he has not left the street yet, I will tell him so myself.
Insufferable
man.”

The study echoed her words, then pulsed with a hollow silence.

Dante laughed. “It appears I have been upstaged by Charlotte. I am left with merely repeating her words. Hampton, if Pen writes to you, tell her she will be safe with us. Glasbury will need an army to get her away.”