Chapter Nine
Twenty-Nine Chester Street was exactly as Julian remembered it.
A handsome but unassuming house, its red-brick facade and black door were an exact replica of the house on either side.
Unlike the others, however, Twenty-Nine exuded a vague air of abandonment.
It manifested in the unpolished number on the door and the brass doorknocker, as well as the assortment of street debris nestling in the corners of the stone steps.
Mostly, though, it was due to the fact that the curtains were drawn shut on every window, upstairs and down.
Still, he’d come this far, so he figured he might as well take futility that little bit further.
Heaving a sigh, he climbed the unswept steps, lifted the dull brass knocker, and landed four solid raps on the door.
An expected span of silence followed, adding credence to the conviction that Miss Annabelle Fairfax was not at home and hadn’t been for a while.
Disappointment, as well as a touch of chagrin, accompanied Julian back to the pavement, where he turned and looked up at the house once more.
Maybe he should have written to Annabelle first, explaining how he’d heard about the events at her wedding, and wished to offer his sympathy.
Or maybe he should simply have stayed in Yorkshire, accepted the fact that he’d spent less than a half-hour of his life with a girl he’d never see again, and set all thoughts of a trip to London aside.
“There’s no one at home, sir,” came a male voice. “Hasn’t been for a couple of weeks.”
Julian looked to his left, where a white-haired gentleman stood on the pavement in front of the neighboring house, a set of keys clutched in his hand.
“That’s a pity.” Julian grasped at a possible straw. “I was hoping to speak with Miss Fairfax. Do you happen to know where she went?”
The man shook his head as he mounted the steps to his door. “No idea, I’m afraid. The lady left rather suddenly and without a word. I assume you’re aware of what happened at the wedding?”
“Yes, though I only learned of it recently,” Julian replied. “Which is why I’m here, to offer my condolences. Is she expected back any time soon?”
Another shake of the head. “I shouldn’t think so. The house is up for lease. The family solicitor will likely know how to contact her, though. Archibald Mason is his name. I believe his office is on Tothill Street. It was a dreadful business! Clarence Fairfax was a good man and a fine physician.”
“Yes, dreadful indeed.” Not wishing to be drawn into a conversation, Julian tipped his hat. “Thank you for the information, sir. Much appreciated. I bid you a good day.”
Julian went back the way he’d come, toward Grosvenor Place, where he hailed a cab, intent on seeking out the solicitor the neighbor had mentioned.
He hoped the fellow would at least have a forwarding address for Annabelle or be able to provide more detail about her intentions.
As it happened, his hope was short-lived.
“Miss Fairfax is currently traveling abroad, Mr. Northcott.” Archibald Mason cleared his throat and pushed his spectacles farther up his nose. “I’m afraid I cannot say when she might return to these shores.”
The clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage drifted in from the street, the sound synchronizing perfectly with the tick-tock of the clock on a nearby wall.
Julian glanced at the clock briefly, though his mind did not register the hour.
It was too busy trying to figure out why Annabelle Fairfax’s solicitor was lying. “There is no forwarding address?”
“Since she is traveling, no.” The man cleared his throat again. “May I ask how you know the lady, sir? I confess I do not recall her ever mentioning your name to me.”
Julian saw no reason to lie. He met the man’s gaze. “Miss Fairfax and I met briefly several weeks ago. I learned of her father’s death through the newspaper report. Since I’m in London, I thought to call on the lady to pay my respects.”
“I see.” The fellow gave a thin smile. “Well, I regret that will not be possible.”
Julian blinked as comprehension flared to life. “You’re protecting her, aren’t you?” His chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Why would that be necessary, Mr. Mason? Is Miss Fairfax in danger?”
A tic appeared beneath the man’s left eye.
“I cannot say more than I already have, sir. If you’d care to leave your contact information with me, I’ll make sure Miss Fairfax gets it when next she is in touch.
Unfortunately, I don’t know when that will be.
” He got to his feet. “Now, I do have other appointments today, so with respect, I must call an end to this one. Do you wish to leave a card?”
“Yes, I do.” Julian rose to his feet as well, reached into his waistcoat pocket, and handed a card over. “This is my brother’s address. My father’s London house is currently closed.”
Archibald Mason regarded it, one eyebrow arching as he did so. “I appreciate your concern for my client, Mr. Northcott,” he said, “and I bid you a good day.”
*
“That’s it?” Josiah shook his head. “That’s all he had to say?”
“That’s all.” Julian heaved a sigh and flopped onto the settee.
“I don’t believe she’s traveling abroad, though.
I believe she’s still in England, and Archibald Mason is fully aware of her location.
He’s protecting her, Joe, I’m guessing from the fellow she was meant to marry.
I can’t criticize him for that. He’s doing his duty. ”
“Maybe if you pushed him,” Josiah said. “Y’know, throw your societal status in his face. Nephew of an earl and suchlike. He might be a bit more forthcoming.”
Julian frowned. “I could never do that. It’s disrespectful to Uncle Isaac.”
“I’m not saying you use the name. Just the title.”
Julian shook his head. “No, can’t do it. The fellow has my card and said he’d pass on the information when and if he can.”
“Or he might just drop it in the waste-paper basket.” Josiah cocked his head. “So, is that it? That’s all you’re prepared to do for now?”
“I don’t see what else I can do.”
“Hire someone. A private investigator.”
Julian groaned. “Come on, Joe, that’s taking things a bit far, don’t you think?
I mean, if you look at this entire venture from an impassive standpoint, it translates to me tracking down a young woman I hardly know, a young woman who clearly prefers not to be found.
Yes, it bothers the hell out of me that the girl has deemed it necessary to go into hiding, but steps have obviously been taken to ensure her safety.
I’ve done all I can do for now, or at least, all I’m reasonably able and willing to do.
Besides, to take things further might do more harm than good. ”
Josiah grimaced. “You’re giving up, in other words.”
“I’m capitulating to circumstance,” Julian replied, with a shake of his head.
“Am I disappointed? Yes, very. But all at once, this endeavor feels like a bootless errand. I have obligations elsewhere and I cannot ignore them. At this time of year, I should be at Highfield. Not here, traipsing around London trying to locate a woman who doesn’t want to be located.
Maybe, if and when the solicitor tells her of my visit, she’ll contact me. ”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Julian shrugged. “Then I suppose I’ll have to take a fatalistic approach and assume a liaison with Miss Fairfax was never meant to be.”
“Hmm.” Josiah nodded, his frown indicative of thought. “Well, in that case, feel like getting drunk?”
Julian opened his mouth to refuse but hesitated. “Yes, actually,” he said, after a moment. “I do.”
“Ever been to The Elysium?”
“I’ve heard of it,” Julian shook his head, “but no, never frequented the place.”
Josiah waggled a brow. “I highly recommend it. It’s rather exclusive and the entertainment is of the highest quality. The ideal place for a gentleman to drown his sorrows, in fact. Fancy it?”
“Oh, what the hell. Why not?” he replied, capitulating to a rare desire to throw caution to the wind. “Lead on, Joe.”
*
Less than a week later, Julian was back at Highfield.
“So unfortunately, no, I didn’t actually see the young lady,” he said, having just given his mother a trimmed version of events, “but I’ve been assured she’s in good health.”
Grace smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t a wasted journey, dear. You do look rather tired, though. Perhaps you should take a day or two to rest. It wouldn’t do to have you falling ill.”
“I’m fine, Mama,” he replied. “But the city was brutally hot and the air foul. Not a drop of rain fell the entire week I was there. It was exhausting. Believe me, I’m more than happy to be back in the cooler and fresher climes of Yorkshire.”
He didn’t tell her about the shadow of disappointment that had accompanied him back home. That, and a vague sense of failure. It might not have been a wasted journey, but neither did it yield the result he’d hoped for.
The responsible side of him told him he was being foolish.
Maybe Archibald Mason had been telling the truth.
Maybe Annabelle Fairfax was, indeed, traveling abroad.
Julian could wait, of course, to see if she responded to the message he’d left with the solicitor.
But for how long? How long was reasonable? How long was unreasonable?
In a little less than a month, he’d be in Miss Aitken’s company once more, this time at Myddleton House, his uncle’s Derbyshire seat. And it seemed likely a decision would have to be made at that time, if not for his sake, then for Miss Aitken’s.
Grace’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Oh, by the way, a letter arrived for you, dear. Two days ago. I put it in your room. Very pretty handwriting! I should imagine a response will be required.”
The intonation in his mother’s voice was clear.
So too, it seemed, was the timing. To wait for any kind of response from Miss Fairfax was futility at its finest. There was no expectation, no inevitability.
Common sense demanded he set foot on the path that had recently been laid out for him.
A path clearly defined and certainly more suited to his status.
“Thank you, Mama.” He stood, ignored the slight ache beneath his ribs, and straightened his shoulders. “I’ll go and read it right away.”