If the Viscount Falls (13 page)

“What's so funny?” Jane snapped.

“It's not about you,” Lisette said dryly. “They're
laughing at
me.
My brothers think me incapable of rising early. Or getting off in a timely fashion.”

“That's because, dear girl, we have yet to see you rise before eleven or leave by noon for a trip,” Dom teased.

Tristan grinned at Jane. “Better schedule that meeting in York for a bit later, Freckles.”

Freckles. Tristan had dubbed her with the nickname during Dom's courtship of her, and that reminder of her past with Dom and his family roused an ache in her chest.

She avoided Dom's gaze. “How about midafternoon then?”

“Nonsense.” Lisette rolled her eyes. “I can rise early, no matter what my idiot brothers think. We'll be there midmorning for breakfast if I have to dunk my head in ice water to accomplish it. Max wanted to get an early start, anyway.”

Dom chuckled. “Max always wants to get an early start. But he'd have to have a different wife in order to manage that.”

The two men nudged each other with smug looks.

“Yes, he would,” Lisette said in a voice of pure sweetness, “one he wasn't quite so enamored of. But since sampling my particular charms always takes him so very
long
in the morning, I admit that we do end up lying abed late more times than not.”

Jane knew she ought to be shocked by such frankness, but she was having too much fun watching the men's mouths fall open, and a red flush creep up their faces.

Lisette flashed them a coy look. “But I shall endeavor to prevent my husband from enjoying his usual pleasures tomorrow morning. That should resolve the matter.” She threaded her arm through Jane's. “Now come, my dear, let's join the others for dinner. I'd love a glass of wine, wouldn't you?”

The two women had barely made it out into the hall before they burst into laughter. “That'll teach . . .
them,
” Lisette gasped. “Did you see . . . Tristan's face?”

“And Dom's,” Jane choked out. “Oh, Lord, you are so
wicke
d
!”

“Why, of
course.
” Lisette's eyes sparkled with mischief. “What's the point of being a duchess if you can't shock people from time to time?”

They both laughed again as they walked briskly toward the drawing room.

Then Lisette's amusement faded, and she made a face. “But it does mean I'm actually going to have to get up at dawn tomorrow. I refuse to let those two get the last word.”

“I certainly understand that impulse.” Darting a glance back down the hall, Jane lowered her voice. “Which is precisely why I need your help. You said you'd send for my maid and my things, but I'd rather go back to Rathmoor Park myself to fetch them. I want to make sure Nancy hasn't returned. And if she hasn't, I want to question her servants more thoroughly.”

Jane had to ask the lady's maid for details concerning her mistress's possible pregnancy. Nancy had been quite vague about it. And the lady's maid might also
know something that would put paid to Dom's belief that Nancy had taken a lover.

“You do realize it will take you half the night to do all that,” Lisette said.

“It can't be helped. I need to have more information by the time we meet the gentlemen in the morning.”

“Very well. Then Zoe and I will go with you.”

“Absolutely not.” Jane could ask questions more freely without them. “You need your sleep if you're leaving in the morning. So does Lady Zoe, who's undoubtedly had an exhausting few days with so many visitors in residence.”

Lisette sighed. “Good point. And Lady Zoe is with child, so she particularly needs rest.” The duchess stopped short of the drawing room to level Jane with a concerned glance. “But she's not the only one. You need sleep, too, my dear.”

“Yes, and I'll get more of it in the carriage if I'm alone. If Lady Zoe will agree to send a footman with me for safety's sake, I'll welcome it, but I need no other company.”

Lisette looked furtively down the hall. “Dom won't like your traveling at night with just a footman.”

“Which is why I shan't tell him. As soon as the men leave to go their way, I shall go mine.” When a frown creased Lisette's brow, Jane patted her hand. “Honestly, I'll be fine. I came here alone from the coast in the first place. It's only two hours there and two back, and it won't take me long at the estate. I'll return in plenty of time for us to leave in the morning.”

With any luck, by then she'd be armed with enough new facts to put Dom's suspicions about Nancy to rest once and for all.

♦ ♦ ♦

I
T WAS NEARLY
ten o'clock the next morning by the time Jane and her companions arrived at Ringrose's Inn. The duke took a private dining room for them and ordered an elaborate breakfast, much more costly than she'd ever eaten herself while traveling.

But the man
was
a duke, after all. Obviously, he had pots of money to throw around. She assumed that was why Dom's investigative agency had been dubbed “the Duke's Men.” His Grace had probably invested heavily in the struggling concern once they'd found his cousin for him. No doubt he'd played a large part in helping the agency reach its pinnacle of success.

The breakfast was soon brought, but despite its extravagance, Jane could barely eat. Indeed, she managed to swallow only a few mouthfuls of shirred eggs before she rose from the table.

“I miss Eugene,” Lisette was saying. “I am never leaving him with a wet nurse again, I swear.”

“You said it would be fine for only a few days,” the duke remarked as he continued to eat.

“I was wrong. I do hope Nurse remembers to . . .”

Unable to pay attention to the conversation anymore, Jane began to pace. It was now well past ten o'clock. Where were Dom and Tristan?

“Come, Miss Vernon.” The duke set down his fork.
“They will get here when they get here, and your agitation won't bring them a moment sooner.”

“I know.” She flashed him a sheepish glance. “I've never been good at waiting.”

“Seems to me you've been excellent at waiting,” ­Lisette mumbled as she buttered her toast.

Jane chose to ignore the reference to the many years she and Dom had spent apart. That was different. She'd thought she was waiting for the only man who'd ever loved her. But she'd been wrong about his feelings, or else he would have come for her when he had the chance.

What if he wants you as his wife now that he's gained the title?

That was all she'd been able to think about since their kisses yesterday, but the answer was always the same. Years ago, Dom had dictated the terms of their “friendship” without consulting her. He now wanted to dictate the terms of the search for Nancy. If Jane married him, she could only imagine what else he would dictate. He'd wrap her in cotton wool while trying to manage everything alone.

At seventeen, she might have put up with a husband who commanded her entire world and treated her like a wide-eyed innocent who must be led through life. But that was before she'd learned the truth about her parents' death.

Now, at nearly thirty, she would rather eat glass than be married to a man like Papa. She'd spent the years since Auntie's death running a household however she
pleased, and very competently, too. So why should she have to put up with the dictates of Dom the Almighty?

He had even tried to prevent her from coming here to York with him yesterday. Lord only knew what ridiculous restrictions he would put on her as his wife.

“Despite all Dom's grousing about
my
inability to show up on time, he and Tristan are late,” Lisette said. “Who knows when they'll be here? Perhaps, Jane, you should use the time to rest.”

“I'm fine,” Jane said. “I couldn't possibly sit still right now.”

“Are you sure? Forgive me, my dear, but you look quite tired. Lady Zoe's butler said you didn't arrive from Rathmoor Park until nearly five
A.M.
”

Jane nodded. “I had a few more matters to take care of than expected. With Nancy and me both gone, the household was at sixes and sevens, and I had to invent some reason for her sudden trip to Bath that wouldn't alarm the servants.”

That had been no small feat, since she'd also had to question Nancy's maid. The nature of the questions had only put the poor woman into a more anxious state, but it couldn't be helped. Especially once Jane learned—

A knock at the door made her jump. She hurried to open it, relieved to find Dom and Tristan standing there. But the looks on their faces struck dread in her heart. Tristan wouldn't meet her eyes as he came inside. Dom, however, met her gaze with a look of banked anger that heightened her alarm.

“Is that sausages?” Tristan said, hurrying to the table. “Thank God. I'm half-starved.”

“You live in a permanent state of starvation, I declare,” Lisette said behind Jane. “Sit down and eat before it gets any colder.” She paused. “Dom? Will you have some breakfast?”

“In a minute.” His eyes never left Jane's. “First I need to speak to Miss Vernon. Alone.”

That did
not
bode well.

The duke rose from the table. “We probably need to . . . er . . . check on the horses, eh, Tristan?”

Grimly, Tristan nodded. Pausing only to make himself a sandwich out of sausages and toast, he wrapped it in a napkin, shoved it into his coat pocket, and hurried for the door.

“I should probably go make sure our servants are being adequately fed downstairs,” Lisette mumbled as she, too, rose and went out.

Jane's maid was with Lisette's maid and the duke's valet in the taproom. At the moment, Jane wished she were with them.

After everyone left, Dom closed the door, and her heart began to thunder in her chest. If he was bending the rules of propriety to closet them alone together in an inn room, he must have found out something awful indeed.

Still, he said nothing at first, removing his greatcoat and throwing it over a chair, then staring at her for a long, tension-fraught moment that rattled her nerves.

“What is it?” she rasped. “What did you learn?”

“A number of things,” he said, his voice hard. “We were lucky to find an ostler here who'd seen Nancy leave with a gentleman about her age. Fortunately, he recognized the man—a local fellow. He was even able to give us directions to the chap's lodgings.” He clasped his hands behind his back, looking very investigator-like. “Were you aware that Samuel Barlow now lives in York?”

A sour sickness churned in her stomach. Good heavens, not Samuel. Anyone but Samuel. “No, I did not . . . realize that.” As Dom kept staring at her skeptically, she thrust out her chin. “Do you think I'm lying?”

“I don't know. Are you?”

“Certainly not!” Moving away from his disturbing gaze, she began to pace. “I only knew that Samuel no longer lived at the Blakeborough estate. He lost his commission in the navy a few years ago and then was disinherited by his father. Perhaps you heard about it.”

“I haven't traveled in those circles in some time, remember?” he said tersely.

She colored. “Well, no one outside of his family knows what caused the estrangement between him and the old earl. I asked Edwin once, but all he would say is that their father didn't approve of Samuel's way of living. Judging from gossip, Samuel had become quite the . . . er . . . rogue in recent years, but I never heard what happened to him after his family cut him off.”

As something occurred to her, she faced Dom. “Still, he and Nancy were always good friends. Perhaps that was the impetus for their meeting . . . to share a meal
or something. You went to his lodgings. Was he there? Was
she
there?”

“No.” Dom approached her, his eyes like shards of ice. “Barlow was seen leaving his place the morning of her arrival. And he hasn't returned since.”

“Oh no,” she breathed.

“It took us half the night, but we checked with every coaching inn in York and finally found the one from which they left for London.”

“London?” This got worse and worse. “They left
together
? You're sure?”

“Very sure. They went off in a post chaise. What's more, Samuel was quite specific about their needs when he hired it. He said he required the most comfortable one the inn had.” Dom stared her down. “And do you know why he had such a specific request?”

Jane swallowed. She was afraid that she did.

When she didn't answer, he added, “Because, or so he told the innkeeper, his ‘wife' was pregnant.”

7

D
OM COULD TELL
from Jane's expression that she knew of Nancy's condition. Of course she knew. She'd probably known all along.