The Reluctant Duchess (15 page)

He must have realised that something was wrong. “I still have to find a ne
w home, and a buyer for the lease, so nothing will change too quickly,” he assured her.

“Of course.” She plastered a big smile on her face. “Thank you for telling me, Mr Braithwaite. I hope you and your wife will be very happy in your new home.”

“Thank you, Miss Wyatt. I’d better be off now.”

Annabelle was in something of a daze for the rest of the morning.
Thankfully her routine here was so ingrained that she didn’t need to give it much conscious thought. Her banter with the customers was well rehearsed so although she couldn’t have told you what any of her conversations were about, the customers didn’t notice anything amiss.

As had been his habit of late, Richard showed up at
2pm, after the lunch time rush, to share a late lunch with her in her office.

As the stew cooled on the desk, he kissed her as he usually did but her response was mechanical
today, rather than heartfelt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling away.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little preoccupied, that’s all.”

“Am I allowed to ask why?”

She hesitated for a moment, before deciding to trust him. “Mr Braithwaite is selling the lease.”

“I see.” He stepped away and considered this information. “Because of th
e recent crimes?”

“
That, and his wife has a desire to become part of London Society, so she says that now is a good time for them to get a larger house.”

“
Hmm,” he said as he paced. He would be willing to bet good money that Mrs Braithwaite had a little bird named Frederick whispering in her ear. “What business is Mr Braithwaite in?”

“Um, shipping, I believe,” she answered, somewhat confused by the question.

Richard nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that your brother does not buy the leasehold.”

“How?” she asked, then realisation dawned. “You can’t buy it yourself!”

“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do,” he answered, sounding a little snippy. The more he thought about this, the better it sounded. Not only would Annabelle’s business be safe if he purchased the house and shop, they would have the accommodations above, where they could meet each other (when the time came).

Alt
hough she hadn’t said anything to him directly, he knew that her patrons were taking more liberties with her person than they used to. Three patrons had been banned from the shop and one had even received his stew over his head before being barred.

The articles in the Review and the London Times about her
confrontation with Frederick had been balanced, but the Morning Post hadn’t been nearly so kind, raking all sorts of gossip and innuendo up from some of the other guests. A rather unkind caricature had also been drawn, depicting her as a maid and Richard dallying with her whilst his mother was busy playing the piano.

He knew that seeing such an image for sale and in shop windows hurt her but she refused to discuss it with him.

Sometimes their passion threatened to overwhelm them but Annabelle always stopped him before he could go too far. He had suggested meetings in hotels but she always refused, afraid of further damage to her reputation, and it was driving him insane.

He still met with Ada regularly but their time together no longer satisfied him as it used to.

“Well, pardon me for having an opinion!” Annabelle’s hands went to her hips.

“I didn’t mean that,” he tried to explain, except he still sounded terse.

“I think you meant exactly that!” she snapped back.

“Why must you always be so argumentative?” he demanded. Recently she had been rather snippy with him. He wanted to believe that it was because she was as frustrated with their relationship as he was
, but he couldn’t be sure. Still, no matter how angry she became with him, the fire in her eyes was infinitely preferable to the simpering attitude of Ada.

“Because I am concerned about you overextending yourself on my behalf,
that means I’m argumentative?”

“I could
buy half of London and not overextend myself,” he answered, although he immediately regretted it as her back stiffened. She didn’t like to be reminded of the inequality of their finances and whilst he
was
exaggerating, that was the first time that he had ever hinted at just how wealthy he was.

“Anna, please, I just want to help you and this could work out very well for both of us. Your shop would be safe and we would have the ho
use upstairs to meet in, discreetly. ”

I
f possible, her back straightened even more and she sat down behind the desk with the composure that one might associate with a queen.

“
I believe that you have taken my caricature to heart,” she said stiffly. “I am not your mistress, now or ever.”

“Oh come on, Anna, you cannot deny what is between us, any more than I can ignore it.”

“There is an attraction between us, I will not deny it but unlike you, I am not ruled by my baser instincts.”

“Baser instincts?” he sounded incredulous, hurt by her words.
He began to pull his gloves on. “If that’s what you think this is, then you are an even bigger fool than I had previously imagined. Good day, Miss Wyatt.” He turned and strode from the room.

Annabelle watched him leave, feeling hurt by his words but more than that, confused. He wanted something from her that she very much wanted to give, but she had always been taught that it was wrong. Without having committed any sin, she was
already being ridiculed, derided and publically humiliated. It wasn’t fair but all she could think was, how much worse it would be if there was any truth to it. At the moment she could hold her head high and walk tall, but what would she do if she knew they were right? How did you chastise someone for telling the truth?

His parting words kept running through her head as well.

‘
If that’s what you think this is, then you are an even bigger fool than I had previously imagined.
’

She refused to think about his meaning, unable to admit, even to herself, the possibility that she was falling in love with him.

Richard shook his head as he left the coffee house and headed to where his driver was waiting.

“Where to?” the driver asked as he held the carriage door open for his master.

“
Custom House, please.”

There were too many docks in London to pick one randomly and hope that Mr
Braithwaite had an office nearby, but Custom’s officers would know all the shipping agents in the city and be able to direct him.

He was still upset with Annabelle and her seeming wilful blindness about his feelings for her (and indeed her feelings for him) but no matter how angry he felt, he had no choice but to do what he must to keep her safe. Not
so much because he had given her his word, but because he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her when he could have prevented it.

He had seen the neighbour
, who was so severely beaten that she almost died, and he had vowed then that it would never be Annabelle. Not if he could help it.

If she hated him for buying the lease on her property, so be it; he could live with her hatred, as long as she was protected.

He hadn’t told her this yet for fear of angering her but he had hired a detective to look into Frederick Wyatt’s background. Now he was considering asking the detective to follow Frederick, or even try to befriend him in the hopes of keeping Annabelle safe.

This threat to the lease had come out of nowhere and Richard was of little doubt that if now thwarted,
Frederick wouldn’t simply give up.

If
Frederick were followed though, it might be possible to learn who his link to these London criminals was. If it was this Old John who he was hiring to orchestrate these crimes, then perhaps he could be convinced to give Frederick up in exchange for leniency.

That was a lot of speculation but it was better than waiting around for the next threat.

In the meantime, he would ask the detective if he could recommend some men who could keep an eye on Annabelle. It would have to be at least three different men, so that Annabelle didn’t become suspicious when someone spent all day, every day in her coffee house and then followed her home.

Of course, Annabelle would probably be furious and accuse him of spying on her
but really, this was all his fault. He had persuaded her to stand up to Frederick without truly understanding the type of man that he was dealing with. His detective had already unearthed a number of depraved incidents, although none the people he had spoken to were willing to press charges against Frederick.

So far
Richard had discovered that Frederick was in debt to two London gambling houses. He was banned from all of the top London whorehouses for mistreating the girls and at one of the less salubrious ones he was then forced to frequent, he had beaten one girl so badly that her face was now disfigured. There were also many less serious reports of violence and smaller debts. It seemed that everyone in the London underworld had heard of, or had a story to tell about Frederick Wyatt.

Richard
soon tracked Mr Braithwaite down to premises near St Katherine’s Dock and was welcomed into his office.

“What can I do for you,
Your Grace?”

“I understand that you are considering selling the
leasehold on Cockspur Street, is that correct?”

“Indeed. I was already considering buying a larger property
. My wife has been nagging me for years to buy a house here and try to integrate with London Society. I have no interest in joining the upper classses, no offence, but I am simply a businessman who has done very well for himself and I have no delusions of grandeur. However, recent events have been the final straw and I finally gave in.”

“Have you given any thought to price?”

“Not yet. To be honest, I only made the final decision this morning.”

“Has anyone else shown an interest in buying your lease?”

“No. There hasn’t really been time.”

The fact that he didn’t ask how Richard had found out, probably meant that he had at least heard the rumours about Annabelle and Richard.

“No friends or acquaintance
s have mentioned an interest in the past?” Richard pressed.

Braithwaite’s brow creased. “Come to mention it, my wife did say something a few weeks ago, that if we ever decided to sell, she had a friend who might be interested.”

“Do you know who that friend is? Did she mention his name?”

“Probably
, but I’m afraid that I block out half of what my wife says. I love her dearly but she is a very flighty creature and sometimes, blocking her chatter out is the only way I stay sane. Can I ask why this is important?”

“It may not be but Miss Wyatt is actually Lady Wyatt and I’m sorry to say, her brother has something of a grudge against her. I believe he may be trying to hurt her and one way to do
that, is to buy the leasehold on her property and either raise the rent until she cannot afford it, or evict her.”

“Come to think of it, I do remember the name of my wife’s frie
nd being familiar. I suppose I just didn’t put ‘Lord Wyatt’ together with ‘Miss Wyatt’. My wife has even met Miss Wyatt a few times since she opened the shop and never shown any interest in befriending her. I just didn’t consider that they could be related.”

“Have you ever met
your wife’s friend?” Richard asked.

“No.”

“Then I would advise you to be careful if you ever do meet him.”

Braithwaite
considered the man before him. He mixed with a lot of people in his business, including the upper classes and he had heard good things about Richard Armstrong. His own instincts also told him that he was a good man, so he nodded. “I will.”

“Can I ask where your country home is?”

“Wiltshire.”

Richard supposed it was possible that
Frederick was in Wiltshire, since it wasn’t very far from Dorset. He really would have to start having the man followed.

“I really am sorry to be selling the leasehold. I’m quite attached to that house and Miss Wyatt has been an exemplary tenant. Not to mention, how much I enjoyed having a
coffee house and her delicious biscuits so close.”

“Then I hope that my proposal meets with your approval
,” Richard began. “We will get an independent valuation and I will pay that, plus ten percent.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I’m used to getting what I want, Mr Braithwaite.”

“Except
for Miss Wyatt,” he said, wondering what sort of reaction he would get from this man.

“You don’t believe the rumours then?”

“I don’t claim to be a good friend but I have known Miss Wyatt for six years and I believe myself to be a good judge of character. She’s not mistress material.”