Chapter 31 #2
“Mr. Smythe,” she said, looking up at the man, “can you at least tell me if my husband sought your counsel in the matter of the dissolution of our marriage?”
Was there compassion in his gaze? Perhaps so, but she couldn’t retreat now. Nor did she shake off Alano’s hand on her arm. Sitting in her bedroom and wondering at the future was so much worse than being faced with the truth.
She tilted back her chin, and faced him resolutely.
“I cannot say, Lady Sarah.”
She bit her bottom lip, clenched her jaw, and was determined not to cry.
Turning, she glanced at Alano and only nodded at him. Would he understand that it was her way of saying that she was fine?
“If he had, however,” Mr. Smythe said from behind her, “I would have advised him of the details of the Matrimonial Causes Act.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“If I had spoken to him about such a matter, I would have told him that it requires him to prove that his wife had been unfaithful.”
“I see.” She forced a smile to her face. “Even if it’s false?”
There was definitely pity now, and she was not going to fade in the face of it.
“Lady Sarah, if a man truly wishes to divorce his wife, there are ways to do it. Or, if the man is an adventurer, he can simply leave the country.”
She turned and faced him.
“Mr. Eston would not have done such a thing. Instead, I believe him to be an honest man with honorable principles.”
“As do I, Lady Sarah.”
Wordlessly, they faced each other.
“I am trying to find my husband, Mr. Smythe,” she said, her pride falling beneath a greater need, that of locating Douglas. “He seems to be missing.”
His expression changed, became more cautious.
“When was this?”
“Immediately after visiting you, sir. Do you have any idea where he might have gone from here?”
He shook his head.
“Are you certain?”
“Lady Sarah, if I had any additional information that I could pass along to you, I would do so. Unfortunately, there is nothing more I can say.”
She caught the inference in his words. “So, my husband did seek your advice on another matter as well.”
“I have said enough, Lady Sarah,” he said, walking to the door. He opened it, held it open, and smiled, a perfectly genuine smile if she hadn’t looked in his eyes. He appeared as worried as she felt. “Good luck with your search. Please let me know what transpires.”
She wasn’t willing to leave quite yet.
“You have no idea where he might have gone, Mr. Smythe?”
“Give my good wishes to your father, Lady Sarah. He is the Duke of Herridge, isn’t he?”
She was almost through the door when she turned and looked back at him. There was a solemn expression on his face, one he’d not worn in all the time she’d been in his office.
“How do you know my husband, Mr. Smythe?”
He smiled. “He saved my life, Lady Sarah. I was aboard a ship that sank off the coast of France. Your husband was aboard the rescue vessel. He kept me afloat until I could be rescued.”
“If I told you that I was going to visit the Duke of Herridge right now, what would you say?”
“I would wish you the best of luck, Lady Sarah. I would also tell you to be careful.”
She nodded and left him without another word.
Edmunds was standing outside, guarding the carriage.
“You’re going to see him, then?” Alano asked. “He’s not a nice man, your father.”
“You’re right,” she said. “He’s not a nice man.” In addition, there was every possibility that he wasn’t her father after all.
“Does your father have a stable?” Alano asked.
“Yes, of course,” Sarah said. “Why?”
“Where’s the carriage?”
She stared at him. “And the coachman? Where’s Tim?”
Edmunds drove them to the front of her father’s home.
“You go inside,” Alano said, “and I’ll do some snooping out here.”
She nodded, left her reticule in the carriage, and stared up at the facade of the Duke of Herridge’s town house. He’d ceased to be Father to her, even in her mind. Even if no one actually came to her and told her that Michael Tulloch was her father, she knew it in her heart.
As she stood there, gathering up her courage, she knew that what happened next might well change her life.
Alano watched Sarah enter the house.
The approach of night was greeted by the lighting of lamps. Next door, a footman exited the house, lit a lamp at the base of the steps, then disappeared inside.
Alano walked around the end of the block and back up the alley to a small courtyard leading to the stables. Here, too, there were lights burning brightly against the darkness. All in all, the place was relatively spacious for a London home, with eight stalls for horses and three bays for carriages.
All eight stalls were occupied by fine-looking horses, all more than acceptable for pulling the two carriages located there. Each of them was ebony, heavily lacquered, but only one boasted a small ducal crest on the door. The other was brand-new, and belonged to Douglas.
He approached the stable complex warily, hearing whistling but being unable to pinpoint the source. A young man suddenly emerged from one of the stalls, pitchfork in hand.
Alano took a few steps forward. He flexed his hands, and began to smile, wondering if he’d get a chance to practice his boxing. It had been a long time, but he was more than willing to test his skills.
He began to grin.