Page 34 of The Viscount's Forgery
“Then we must tell Lord Suffolk at once,” Miss Trentworth said, her eyes holding a good deal of surprise. “Come, he will be waiting for you.”
Eugenia nodded and followed after her friend without hesitation or complaint. Suddenly, a great and desperate longing filled her heart as she approached the townhouse, wanting to step not only into Lord Suffolk’s townhouse but also into his arms.
This was all so very near to an end, but, in her heart, Eugenia felt as though something more, something deeper, was only just beginning.
15
“Come in, please.” Nicholas had to admit that whilst he did very much want to discover the truth, he was more concerned for the exhaustion written on Miss Sherwood’s face. “There is tea and cakes already set out. Please, have something.”
“I will pour the tea,” Lady Isobella said, casting a glance at Miss Sherwood, expressing the same worry in her look as he felt. “Sit down, Eugenia.”
Miss Sherwood sat down without complaint, the other bluestockings doing the same. Lady Isobella poured the tea, and Miss Trentworth rose to hand it out to them all. All the while, Nicholas was sitting on the edge of his seat, his eyes fixed on Miss Sherwood and his apprehension rising.
“I am just a little overwhelmed with relief,” Miss Sherwood told him, catching his eye and offering him a small smile. “I had a good deal of vigor and enthusiasm – mayhap even determination – whilst we were in pursuit, but now that it is over, now that it is at an end, I find myself to be quite exhausted!”
“I understand,” Nicholas said to her, his concern still present despite her explanation. “I do hope you have not wearied yourself too greatly on my behalf.”
Her smile returned to her lips and her eyes as she picked up her tea cup. “It was worth it, I think,” she told him, accepting a plate holding a small cake upon it. “We have the truth now.”
“And what is the truth?”
The bluestockings all looked at each other.
“I think we should explain from the beginning,” Lady Amelia said, eventually. “I do not know all that took place, and to save us any confusion, it would be good to have clarity on what happened.”
Nicholas nodded. “Please.”
“The man came out from the gallery, carrying the painting,” Miss Trentworth began. “I saw the painting being wrapped, and therefore, I knew it was the one that you required.”
“We followed him briefly, with Miss Trentworth and Lady Rosalyn coming after him in the carriage,” Lady Amelia continued. “He was walking quite quickly, coming to a stop in a particular place. A hackney then came for him, but unfortunately, the carriage was already ahead.”
“I see. So you could not see who else was in the hackney.”
Miss Sherwood nodded. “Precisely. We presumed therewassomeone there, for the man did not wave the hackney down, but it was clear in its destination and intention. Therefore, we had to hailanotherhackney to follow after that one, with the carriage ahead of us both.”
“Then, however, thanks to Eugenia’s quick thinking, we asked the hackney we were in to go ahead. It took us to your townhousebeforethe carriage and before the hackney, which contained the painting.”
Excitement zipped up his spine. “You were then able to see who was inside when it finally pulled up.”
Lady Isobella nodded. “Yes, that is so. We were all present, spaced out across the street, but it was Eugenia who approached the hackney.”
Nicholas turned to her again, his heart quickening to a rushed beat. “You approached it?”
“I did. I had to see who was inside, so I pretended that I was seeking a hackney and thought that it was vacant, now that the man who had the painting had stepped out.”
A knot tied itself in his throat, aware that the next few words would reveal the person behind it all.
“I did not know the gentleman, I confess, but I recognized his face. I made some light conversation, and he did tell me who he was.” Miss Sherwood set her tea down. “He is a friend of yours, I think. Lord Marchfield?”
A deep hole seemed to open up inside Nicholas as he gazed back at Miss Sherwood. “Lord Marchfield?” he repeated, his voice rough. “Are you sure?”
She nodded but said nothing, her face still pale and her eyes holding a good deal of sadness. It was not because she knew of Lord Marchfield personally, he realized, but because of the pain and sorrow thathewould now face.
“I – I cannot understand that,” he said, closing his eyes and pushing one hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. “He is my friend, though we are certainly not close. I – ”
“Whatever is going on, Suffolk?”
Nicholas lifted his head, the bluestockings all turning to look at the doorway as none other than Lord Bothwell strode into the room.
