Page 5 of Loving a Dowager
“I do.” Walter grinned and nodded. “I do indeed.”
Henrietta replayed her terms over in her head. It was always concerning when a man as astute as Walter agreed too easily. Either Walter didn’t believe his nephew would be happy, or that he would be in love. If the scheme that she was piecing together was successful, both Walter and Nicholas would find themselves leg-shackled to respectable women of the ton that they loved. She just needed to puzzle out who had captured Walter’s attention all these years. Knowing Walter, his secret love was close at hand. Within his reach had he simply dared to take the plunge and declare his feelings.
Chapter Four
Jumping out of the Hadfield carriage, Walter slapped his hat back atop his head.What the blazes have I done?Of all the idiotic decisions he’d made over the years—continuing to care for a woman he couldn’t have, loving her from a distance, sneaking about town leaving her trinkets—agreeing to spend hours upon hours in close contact with Henrietta was by far the most fatuous. He stood with his hand out at the ready, steeling himself for the inevitable thrum he always experienced when Henrietta was within inches. His heart flipped in his chest the moment she placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it as she descended. He was in trouble. The twinkle of mischief blazed in her eyes and he wanted to keep that spark alive—even if it meant risking her finding out about his deepest, darkest secret: his continued infatuation for her.
The red front door to the Hadfield townhouse flew open to reveal a disgruntled Lord Hadfield. “Where the devil have you been?”
Henrietta stiffened. “Landon! That is no way to speak to your mother.”
Landon jutted his chin out in Walter’s direction. “The inquiry was intended for Lord Weathersbee, Mama, not you.” Walter mentally rummaged through his agenda. He didn’t recall having made arrangements to meet Landon. Frozen with one foot on the top step, Walter considered the situation. If he was to finally pursue Henrietta, he’d have to build a rapport with her eldest son. Physically, the lad resembled George and had even inherited the terrible lung condition that took George from this earth. However, Landon’s temperament was more akin to his mama’s—determined and stubborn. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped up to the landing to come face-to-face with the lad.
Henrietta bustled past her son and shimmied out of her cloak, which the butler silently took from her. “Oh. Then you must escort Lord Weathersbee to your study if the two of you must speak. Where is your wife?”
“I believe you will find Bronwyn is in the library.”
“Perfect.” Henrietta turned to face Walter. “I shall have Morris bring Bertha’s documents for you to review. I look forward to hearing your legal opinion on the matter this eve.” Practically skipping, Henrietta left him with her agitated son.
The woman had a way of giving him orders that left him wanting more. He tore his gaze away from the sway of her rounded hips and found himself the recipient of one of Landon’s rare smiles that revealed his dimple. Never having been privy to the infrequent expression up close, Walter was caught off guard by the charming display. Smiles in general were used to set another at ease or to provide reassurance, yet the sight of the man’s dimple set his nerves on edge. Over the years, Walter had watched Landon become the honorable gentleman standing before him. He was also aware that Landon was extremely protective of his mama. He hoped Landon would one day come to trust him like his papa had.
“Lord Weathersbee, shall we adjourn to the study for a drink?”
Walter removed his hat and allowed the inconspicuous butler to take it along with his coat and gloves. George would be so proud of his son’s innate ability to quickly surmise another’s motives. Landon had inherited his mother’s tenacity, but combined with George’s wit and patience, the lad had been a formidable barrister and was now undoubtedly the patriarch of the family.
Walter followed Landon through the townhouse, mumbling, “I need more than a bloody drink, but a French brandy will have to do for now.”
Entering Landon’s study, Walter’s nose twitched at the sweet scent of vanilla. It was familiar, yet the Hadfield women favored floral scents; Henrietta violets and Bronwyn daisies. His mind raced, cross-referencing events and memories. Damnation. The faux flower seller. Reflecting upon it, there had been a multitude of clues that should have had him looking closer at the imposter.
The strong whiff of spices with warm undertones replaced the feminine scent. Walter took the tumbler Landon held out for him. “My thanks.” Lifting the glass in the air, Walter said, “Your mother is the reason I was missing from the offices this afternoon.” He followed Landon over to the two wingback chairs facing the fire.
“I received word this afternoon of Mama’s visit to the office, followed by your rather rushed departure.” Landon settled into his chair. He appeared relaxed, but a tenseness remained in his posture. Walter sipped his brandy as he waited for Landon to begin his inquisition. He should have known Landon would have informants keeping him apprised of the activities at Neale and Sons. Walter suspected many of the employees were directly connected to the Network that vowed to serve PORFs, but he hadn’t managed to specifically identify which ones.
Half a glass downed, Landon leaned forward to roll his glass between his palms. “I’m curious. Why did you decide to disclose your secret this year?”
Landon’s query was a cold bucket of water tossed in his face. George had mentioned files were maintained on individuals of interest. Walter never considered he was one of them. If George had shared with his son that Walter knew the truth about PORFs, why had Landon not approached Walter previously?
“To what secret are you referring?” He leaned back in his chair.
Waving the empty glass up in the air, Landon replied, “Let me ponder for a moment.” He pinned Walter with a look that was frighteningly familiar. It was the same one Henrietta used when she was about to reveal something shocking. “There are a number to choose from. However, shall we start with the fact that you are the one responsible for leaving Mama trinkets annually on the anniversary of my papa’s death.”
How very shrewd of Landon to allude to his knowledge of Walter’s multiple secrets. Knowing it best to never answer a barrister’s query without posing one of your own, he released the breath he’d held a moment longer than necessary and asked, “How long have you known?” Landon’s answer would at least provide him with an indication as to how long he’d been on the man’s watch list.
“Not long.” Landon peered into his empty glass and then continued, “Mama loves mysteries, and with Christopher’s absence, I thought discovering the identity of her annual gift giver would provide her with the ideal investigation to occupy her time. Since you foiled my plans, care to tell me why you have been secretly giving my mama gifts all these years?”
Fascinating. The boy had provided the typical noncommittal answer expected of a lawyer, yet he elaborated without prompting as to his reasoning. It was Walter’s turn to stare into his empty glass.Not longcould mean years, months, or days. Regardless, Landon knew the truth and there was no reason to further delay answering. “My intentions are honorable. I made a promise to your father.”
Landon straightened in his seat. “My papa?” Gone was the relaxed, non-threating PORF. Instead, Walter faced the narrowed gaze of a son ready to defend and protect his mama. “I wasn’t aware you were even acquainted with Papa.”
“Neither was your mother until today.” Walter balanced his glass on the arm of the chair. “In one afternoon, your mother has seen to it I’m embroiled in the matter of Lady Bertha’s engagement to Lord Otterman,andshe has decided to take on the task of assisting my nephew in finding the next Marchioness Darlington.” His mind still whirled from how quickly Henrietta had managed to entangle him into her schemes.
“Then I shan’t worry about Mama. Matchmaking is her favorite pastime.” Landon rose and held out a hand for Walter’s empty glass. “Another?”
Walter nodded and handed over his glass. It didn’t appear Landon had any intention of cutting their meeting short. At least not until the boy had all the answers he wished to obtain. Returning, Landon offered Walter a glass with a healthy portion of brandy. He took the glass and swirled the amber liquid around and around. Landon was a skilled interrogator; he needed a clear head and his wits about him not to disclose any more secrets. Landon was shrewd and extremely patient.
Landon was the first to break the silence. “I agree with Mama. There is something amiss with Lord Otterman’s proposal to Lady Bertha.” Landon glanced at Walter over the rim of his glass and slowly lowered it. He gave a piercing stare and added, “I’d like to offer you my assistance in the matter. I might have access to information on the man that could assist.”
Walter returned Landon’s steady gaze. The lad was testing him. It was subtle hint to the secret Network. Walter was no fool. He’d promised George to never disclose his knowledge of PORFs or the Network.
