Page 36 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
During the drive to town, he’d dredged his memory for the names of the Exton staff, and when the butler opened the door, Gray greeted the man with an amiable smile. “Good morning, Cottesloe.”
Gray stepped forward, and taken completely by surprise, the butler gave way.
“My lord?” Cottesloe blinked several times, then managed, “Forgive me, but it is Lord Child, is it not?”
“Indeed.” Gray handed Cottesloe his hat, which the bemused butler accepted, and shrugged off his greatcoat. “I’m here to see Lady Isadora. I assume she’s at the breakfast table?”
“Ah…” Instinctively, Cottesloe accepted the heavy coat Gray held out. “I…ah, believe she is, my lord.”
“Excellent.” Guessing the most likely direction, Gray started down the corridor that ran beside the stairs. “It’s this way, is it?”
“Yes, but…” Weighed down with coat and hat, Cottesloe trotted after him. “My lord…that is…”
Gray caught the scent of toast and followed it to a sunny breakfast parlor at the rear of the house. Through the open door, he caught sight of Izzy, sipping from a teacup as she stared through the window at the small, winter-drab garden.
Without altering his stride, he walked into the room.
Alerted by his footsteps, startled, she looked around, then her eyes flared, and she stared at him as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
He smiled, intently, at her and circled to draw out the chair with its back to the window, the one directly opposite her. “Good morning, Izzy. I thought I’d find you here.” He sat and held her stunned gaze.
Cottesloe hurried in and dithered by her elbow. “My lady, I didn’t know if or, rather, whether his lordship—”
She waved aside his words. “My apologies for not warning you, Cottesloe.” She glanced at the butler. “It’s quite all right.”
Cottesloe looked from Gray to her, his expression stating that to his way of thinking, the situation was far from satisfactory.
“Perhaps,” she glanced at Gray, “his lordship might like some breakfast.”
Gray smiled at Cottesloe. “I’ve already eaten, but a cup of coffee would be welcome.”
With something acceptable to do, Cottesloe drew himself up and half bowed. “Of course, my lord.”
Gray watched as the butler, spine rigid, disapproval in every line, departed, bearing away Gray’s coat and hat.
“What the devil are you doing here?”
Shifting his gaze back to Izzy, he noted that the look she was leveling at him over the rim of her teacup was not so much aggressive as wary. He opted for the fastest way to convince her that he knew all. “The people I visited yesterday to consult over the names of those featured in Quimby’s photographs were the Earl and Countess of Alverton.”
Izzy closed her eyes and softly groaned. “Therese Cader—I might have known.”
“Indeed, you might. I grew up with Alverton, after all.”
She shook her head and opened her eyes. “I’d forgotten the connection.” She paused, then met his gaze directly. “I assume that means you know everything about my current position in society and the…subterfuge, for want of a better word, I have in place to keep the two halves of my life separate.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat, then replied, “As to whether I know all…that’s impossible for me to say. But I certainly know a great deal more than I did on Saturday.” He circled a finger in the air. “Enough to understand about here.”
Enough to be a very great nuisance and an even bigger threat.
Rationally, Izzy knew that was so, yet she felt not the slightest threat emanating from him. Irritation at having been taken in by her subterfuge and a certain grimness, too, but nothing that triggered her well-honed defenses.
He remained committed to helping her solve Quimby’s murder and wouldn’t let her down.
While that knowledge was comforting, that she felt so certain of him was itself unsettling.
As if confirming her assessment, he added, “Therese told me to assure you that neither she nor Devlin will breathe a word of your situation to anyone.” His lips twisted. “Truth be told, she seemed rather envious of your achievement in setting upThe Crier.”
Izzy suppressed a snort. She knew Therese well enough to be unsurprised by that.
