Page 43 of The Duke of Scandal

“For now?”

“I cannot think of my own happiness until I have found my sister. Her security has been my goal for months. Her, first, then I look to myself. Nothing has changed that. Her elopement has simply made it more urgent. But after…”

Harriet put a finger to his lips, not wanting him to say too much, perhaps in fear he would not say what she wanted from him. But inside, her heart was soaring.

CHAPTER 29

Two weeks since he and Harriet had chased through the woods, since she had lain in his arms and he had all but promised himself to her. Two weeks of fruitless searching for Rebecca. Edward hurled his Ulster greatcoat aside as he strode through the front door of Franklin Place, Chelsea. Rain sluiced from it to the floor before a servant could dash forward and recover it. Edward did not notice the servant or the trail of wet footprints he left behind him as he stormed for the stairs and up to his private study.

“Bring me whiskey!” he bellowed as he climbed the stairs, not waiting for an affirmative reply.

Another blasted fruitless morning. To become a blasted fruitless day which will be added to all the rest. Rebecca is nowhere to be found. It is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Blast her eyes and that blackguard she has taken up with.

In his study, he hauled the curtains closed to shut out the leaden, London sky. Poor weather did not have the best effect on him, to begin with. It stemmed from his time in the army; years spent beneath a blue Spanish sky and warm sun had left him with little tolerance for the vagaries of English weather.

There were letters on his desk, correspondence that had arrived while he was out. The day’s work had taken him to his club, where he made discreet inquiries among men he could trust. The canceled wedding had been impossible to completely hide and there were many in the ton who knew of it and speculated as to the reason. If his search for Rebecca became public, or at least went beyond the circle of his most trusted confidants, it would be the end of his reputation and that of the Bolton family. An elopement could not be lived down.

The first letter announced its author by the perfume with which it was scented. Edward found himself smiling as he carefully opened the envelope. He had come to recognize the fresh floral scent and the handwriting that always began neatly, and then deteriorated as her enthusiasm overcame her care. His own handwriting was dashed and probably hard to read when it came time to reply. At least it was when it came to her.

Harriet had remained with him, though discreetly in the background, as he had dealt with the Southame vicar and the members of the Woodburn family that had gathered in the town. Her presence had been a reassurance that he had not expected. As they had neared the town, he had become increasingly concerned that their arrival together would spark a dozen scandalous tales. Instead, Harriet had hung back and taken on the role of his secretary.

She had taken a room at the inn in which Edward had decided to headquarter himself, and then had played the role perfectly, controlling access to the Duke with ruthless efficiency while he spoke to all of the gathered guests. It had been an interminable process, questioning those who knew Rebecca and trying to ascertain if they knew anything that would be of use.

As night had fallen he had wanted nothing more than Harriet’s arms. But, she had more self-control, insisting that she return to her family and provide an explanation for her extraordinary behavior. There was also the matter of the Viscount who had expected to be Harriet’s escort to the wedding. Reluctantly, Edward had sent her on her way, insisting that she travel back by carriage.

That was the last that he had seen of her for two weeks. In place of her radiant beauty and alluring body, letters had been exchanged between them. It was a courtship but conducted at a distance. In each of his letters, he promised that once his sister was found, he would look to his own happiness. As time passed, he was increasingly sure that happiness would only be found in Harriet’s arms. He consumed the latest letter.

“My dear, handsome Duke. The Viscount is persistent. Having decided upon taking my hand in marriage, he will not be deterred. He has waived his right to a dowry which is fortunate, as Simon cannot afford much for that, though he has said that there is money put aside for myself and Eleanor in that respect. My mother urges me to seize the moment, though there is something of hesitance about her that confuses me. None but I would notice it I think but it is certainly there. It is almost as though she is playing the role expected of her as my mother, but secretly does not want me to choose this man.

In my most fanciful moods, I wonder if it was she that saw us that night at Wrexham. That is sheer madness but if she believed there was a possibility of my marrying a Duke, that would explain the mystery. There, I’ve spoken of that which has been unspoken between us. My heart is racing at the thought of your reading those words. Do not think that I am trying to put pressure on you or influence you in any way. I think my actions have spoken volumes of my feelings. And I hope that yours have communicated the same.

I am wondering if you may require the services of a secretary while you are in London? I enjoyed playing the role. Write to me soon. Yours, Harriet.”

Edward smiled, as he always did, at the personality that shone through the written words. The anger and frustration in mine had abated. He felt calm. No one in his life could do that for him. In the past, it had to be excised either at the bottom of a bottle or in a brothel. It was a technique he had learned as a soldier and it had stayed with him on his return to England. But Harriet had the same effect, either with her presence, proximity or simply through the paper that she had touched.

The other letters were unimportant for the moment. He cast them aside, uncaring that one of them slipped to the floor. Opening the bureau, he took out paper, ink, and a pen, eager to begin his reply. The process of talking to Harriet, though separated from him by distance, further soothed him. It left him ready to continue his search, filled with new resolve and determination. Even the sound of the pounding rain outside ceased to bother him.

“My dearest Harriet. I find that the services of a good social secretary are sorely missed. Your previous experience more than qualifies you for the role. I would like you to tell your cousin that it is your good fortune to find employment with a leading gentleman of the ton, to be employed helping to manage an enterprise of importance. That should assuage the gossip mongers, should it not?

And the income you will receive from your employment will go towards helping your family. And I will not accept protests or refusals. Forgive me though for my stubbornness. My heart wants to put aside this futile quest and see to its needs. My head refuses to allow me to indulge my happiness until I have secured Rebecca’s. She surely cannot be happy in this illicit relationship. I feel sure she will be content knowing she had the protection and support of her family.

I, too, am questioning the motives of a family member though. Aunt Olivia has been behaving very oddly over this whole affair. She is more concerned than I would have expected. And I think she knows more than she is telling me. The woman is guileless, or so I thought. Perhaps, she knows something of Rebecca’s elopement. I will get to the bottom of the mystery though, I am certain. Come to Franklin Place, Chelsea, as soon as you are able. I will have rooms prepared for you and the servants will know of your role.

After a frustrating morning, I am now ready to resume my search. Thank you for driving me on. Yours, Edward.”

There came a knock at the door. Edward felt the anger re-ignite. He had thought the servants here in London were well trained enough to know when he was not to be disturbed. The knock came again and then Olivia’s voice.

“Edward, I must speak to you. I know of your orders that you not be disturbed but this is most urgent.”

“Come in!” Edward snapped.

As the door behind him opened, he blotted the letter and placed it into the bureau, closing and locking the lid. Then he rose, sweeping his still-wet hair from his eyes.

“Well?” he demanded churlishly.

“Well, I think you should read this. It was delivered after you left this morning.”

She held a newspaper towards him. It was folded over to show a particular column on an inside page. Edward frowned, feeling a cold weight settle in his stomach.

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