Page 35 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
Gray was surprised.
Therese saw it and nodded seriously. “Indeed. It had come to that, and the union bought the family some respite, and by all accounts, the marriage has proved a happy one. Nevertheless, not long after that, Julius sold the family estate, which had been in the family for generations but, courtesy of his late father, who had secretly broken the entail, was mortgaged to the hilt.”
Therese’s gaze roved the comfort and solidity of the walls around her. Without prompting, she went on, “As far as I know, Isadora currently lives with her mother, Sybil, Dowager Countess of Exton, and her sister, Marietta, who was presented last year, in a town house in Norfolk Crescent, just north of Hyde Park off Edgware Road.” Therese met Gray’s eyes. “To all intents and social purposes, the Exton ladies go on well enough. I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
Gray inclined his head. “That’s a great deal more than I knew before. I’ve been picking my way through incidental comments Isadora’s made and guessing. Knowing the situation will make dealing with her much easier.”
And that’s possibly the most massive understatement I have ever made.
Thinking over all Therese had said, he frowned. “I’m surprised Julius—now he’s the earl—hasn’t cut up rough over Isadora being the owner and active manager ofThe London Crier.”
The look Therese bent on him was openly patronizing. “You are speaking of Isadora Descartes. In that family, she was always the leader, the one who took care of everyone else. Even while her father was alive, Julius, Marietta, James—her younger brother who’s at Eton now—and Sybil all took their lead from Isadora. While they will always support her—and staunchly—I can’t imagine any of them being of much practical help. They are all very nice people, but not the sort to act on their own—they are not in Isadora’s league and will always look to her for guidance.” Therese met Gray’s eyes. “Consequently, Julius wouldn’t dream of getting in Isadora’s way, much less censuring her.”
Gray nodded. “I see.” And indeed, he did. Izzy didn’t have anyone she could turn to in the current fraught situation—or at least, no one she would turn to for active help and assistance. He knew her well enough to feel certain that, rather than involve those she loved, she would keep her worries close and carry any burden herself.
Apparently, Therese had been dredging her memory. “As I recall, Isadora wasn’t initially happy with Julius’s decision to marry the millowner’s granddaughter, but once she came to know the girl, Isadora changed her tune and approved and supported Julius’s suit. And that, I must tell you, was critical to having the marriage more or less accepted within the ton. The grandes dames might not always approve of Isadora’s actions, but they definitely respect her intelligence and her opinions. Once she accepted Julius’s marriage, they did, too. Mind you, Julius and his wife—I believe her name is Dorothy—rarely come to town. I understand they prefer their life in the country and are quite content raising their children and managing their acres.”
The clocks in the house chimed for three o’clock, and Gray stirred. “I should ride home. I have to be in town in the morning.”
He and Devlin rose.
“I’ll have your horse saddled and brought around.” Devlin went to tug the bellpull and summon Edwards.
Gray gave Therese his hand and helped her to her feet. “Thank you for the information. I don’t suppose you remember what number in Norfolk Crescent the Exton house is?”
She smiled brightly. “It’s Number six.”
He smiled in thanks, and they walked to where Devlin waited.
Gray shook hands with Devlin, thanked him for his assistance, and confirmed that he would definitely inform Drake about the murder, then Edwards arrived to say his horse was waiting, and Devlin and Therese walked out with him.
The pair halted on the front porch and watched Gray go down the steps and accept the reins from the groom.
Gray swung up to the saddle, raised a hand in farewell, then wheeled his horse and rode down the drive.
Therese and Devlin watched him go, and Devlin heard Therese murmur, “Who knows?”
He decided he didn’t need to inquire further as to what she was speculating upon; he was fairly certain he knew.
Then the love of his life turned her bright eyes his way. “I have to say, I’m quite envious of Isadora and her creation atThe Crier.” More pensively, she added, “I wonder how it all works.”
He managed to hide the horror her words—and even more her tone—evoked and mildly replied, “Indeed.” He turned her in to the house and artfully asked, “I wonder what the boys are up to? They’ve been quiet for hours. Maybe we should check.”
That galvanized her into action. With his fingers metaphorically crossed, Devlin followed her up the stairs.
Gray reached Ancaster Park and rode straight to the stables. There, he found Sam and gave orders to have the grays put to, then strode to the house to fetch his bag.
During the ride from the Priory, he’d had time to digest all he’d learned and was now intent on driving back to town.
As he hauled open the side door and strode into the corridor, he muttered to himself, “To beard the lioness in her true den.”
At seven o’clock the following morning, Gray strode up the steps of Number 6, Norfolk Crescent. He paused on the semicircular porch and glanced around. The house faced west, across the neat street from a small, half-moon-shaped park ringed with black iron railings. The park hosted several trees that, in spring and summer, would make a pretty scene.
The terrace houses lining the crescent were relatively new and in pristine condition, and at this hour, there was no traffic about to compete with the birdsong.
All in all, it was one of the nicer spots in London to live. Not quite holding the cachet of Mayfair, but it would certainly pass in society as a “good address.”
Turning to the glossy dark-green door, Gray plied the bronze knocker and waited.
