Chapter 13 #2
Now that she had calmed a little, she saw faint shadows under Mr. Walker’s eyes. He did appear a bit too thin, his cheekbones pronounced. He hadn’t been free of his prison for very long, she guessed.
“I am glad for you,” she said, and genuinely meant it. No one deserved such treatment.
“Thank you,” he said, the mood lightening. “After so long in the countryside, London is a feast for the senses. It’s a bit overwhelming, if I am honest.” He stood up abruptly. “I should take my leave.”
Philip got to his feet quickly. “I’ll see you out.”
“No need,” Mr. Walker said. Then, after another moment’s hesitation, “I will call on you again soon.”
Audrey watched her husband attempt to mask his pleasure. Anyone else might not have seen it, it was so subtle.
“Soon, then,” he agreed, and then remained standing as Mr. Walker let himself out of the study.
Audrey raised a brow, still observing Philip. He stared at the door, looking more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him. His lips twitched toward a grin. But then he seemed to recall her and met her gaze.
“I presume you have questions,” he said, subduing his smile. He settled down on the cushion Mr. Walker had been seated on, across from her.
“You met with Mr. Walker at Brooks’s last night,” she said, recalling Philip’s mention of an old Cambridge mate at dinner the evening before. She’d been caught up in anticipation for Hugh’s midnight visit, so she’d forgotten all about it. Until now.
“Yes.”
Philip had returned from his club at dawn. Or perhaps he and Mr. Walker had gone elsewhere.
“Are you going to see him again?” she asked.
He rubbed his hands together—a nervous tic—as he considered her question. “I would like to. If you are amenable?”
“If it would make you happy.” She considered leaving it at that, but then decided to vent her reservation rather than hold it in. “But Philip…there could be talk. His past is quite scandalous.”
“It is,” he sighed, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps it isn’t wise. I’ll need to think on it some more.” He stood and broke toward his desk. “Heaven knows I’m being a hypocrite even considering it.”
Audrey got to her feet. “How do you mean?”
Philip flung out an arm. “I warned you not to take Marsden as a lover because of his past, didn’t I? Now look what’s happened. I was right to have such reservations. Any association with him now would prove ruinous. I should listen to my own counsel.”
At Hugh’s name, she recalled the reason she’d come to the study in the first place.
The folios. Her reticule ribbons were still wrapped around her wrist, the papers inside potentially vital.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Philip about them, but she swallowed the urge.
If she brought out the folios, she’d have to tell Philip about Hugh’s visit the night before.
He’d be furious. She wasn’t in the mood for an argument.
She also didn’t want to hear Philip forbid her from helping Hugh again.
Furthermore, she didn’t want to have to tell Philip that she would not be heeding his command.
“I should leave you to your thoughts,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager to flee. “I’ll be in my study.”
Wrapped up as he was in his own state of affairs, Philip didn’t try to convince her to stay.
Audrey kissed his cheek and then hurried toward the back of the house, where her small study was located.
It was her favorite room in Violet House.
Though half the size of Philip’s study, it was feminine and brighter, with tall windows overlooking the small kitchen garden.
It was cozy rather than austere, and it always gave her the impression of being far away from the rest of the world.
Far away from London and the ton and even her own persona as Duchess of Fournier. Here, she could just be Audrey.
She entered the study and let out a great exhale as she shut the door behind her. The room wasn’t as sunny as usual, the curtains not having been drawn. They billowed a little, as if in a breeze. The odd chill of the air registered too late.
Arms grabbed at her from behind. A man’s coarse hand clamped down over her mouth while his brawny arm pinned both her arms into place at her sides.
His ungloved palm muffled her scream, and though she squirmed to get free, he was too big and strong for her fight to make any difference.
Unlike the night before, when Hugh had come up behind her, this man was rough. Unyielding.
“Don’t struggle, lamb,” the unfamiliar voice said softly into her ear. “You don’t want no one to come running to see what’s the matter.”
She went still. If a footman or maid heard her, they would indeed come to investigate. Philip might as well. This man might have a weapon.
“Good girl.” His praise made her stomach roll. The stench of unwashed clothes and the sour tang of urine did as well. “Now, hand them over. The papers. I know you got them.”
Her blood slowed, and her ears began to throb. The folios. He’d followed her from Pimlico? Audrey tried to speak, but his hand was still cupping her mouth. The touch of his skin against hers and his pungent odor made her want to gag.
“No screaming,” he warned. Audrey nodded, and he slowly lowered his hand. She dragged in a breath.
“Where is April Barlow?” she asked. The folio’s contracts all had to do with her. This could be the man who’d paid Miss Barlow a late-night visit and warned her off.
He wrapped both arms around Audrey now, squeezing her back tighter against his front. His lips touched her earlobe. “You’re in no position to be asking questions. The files. Now.”
Her ribs ached as his grip constricted her ribs even tighter.
“My reticule,” she gasped, and she felt his hand scrabbling to free the ribbons from her wrist. She was at least grateful she’d read them on the way back home and not waited until she reached her study.
“Who do you work for?” she asked, even though she sensed he was too astute to give her an answer. Even if he did smell like a horse stall.
The man laughed in her ear. “If you’re smart, you’ll keep out of this business.”
Audrey fought the urge to stomp his foot. How dare he break into her home and manhandle her like this? If she wasn’t so worried that Philip or the servants would come running in and scuffle with this miscreant, she’d scratch at his eyes and fight to keep those files.
Before she could do anything, he lobbed her toward the floor. She crashed in an ungainly heap, knocking her knee painfully against the leg of a chair and glancing her temple off the floor. By the time she scrambled back up to her feet, shocked and dizzy, the room was empty. The intruder was gone.
Audrey ran to the billowing curtains and threw them aside to find the open window in which he’d made his escape. On the lawn below, a man in a drab, workaday coat and hat hurdled over a row of snow-capped hedges and disappeared without a backward glance. She didn’t so much as glimpse his face.
Audrey swore and slammed the window shut.