Chapter Twelve #2
“We must bring your sons here next time,” she said without thinking, then sighed because she’d made it sound as though they were a betrothed couple and had a future together. “Well, you ought to bring them here.”
He arched an eyebrow, but said nothing in response.
Since they had now finished their meal, they’d risen to leave when a man hurriedly entered the café. Something familiar about him caught Gwendolyn’s eye.
She gasped.
No.
It cannot be.
“What is it, Gwen?” Milbury asked.
She turned toward him in astonishment. “I… I… It’s him.”
Milbury inhaled sharply. “What? Who?”
When she turned back toward the door, the man was gone.
She tore across the room toward the entrance because the man had been coming in and had to be waiting to be seated. But where was he now? She cast a desperate glance around the café, but he was nowhere in sight. Not at any of the tables.
Had he gone into the kitchen?
She almost knocked into a serving maid coming out through the kitchen door at the same time she was heading in. “I’m so sorry,” Gwendolyn said in dismay, knowing she would have upended her tray had the girl not swerved out of the way in time.
The kitchen was a hive of activity, but the man was not in there either.
Milbury followed her in and pulled her out. “Gwen, what are you doing?”
Tears began to cloud her eyes. “I saw him, James. I know it was him.”
“Who?” he repeated.
“Andrew Clement,” she said.
The air around them suddenly thickened and his eyes turned dark as thunderclouds.
“No…bloody blazes.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, a sign he was not at all pleased. “Are you sure? How can it be? And why were you looking for him in the kitchen?”
“Because he wasn’t at any of the tables. Yet I saw him march in. So, where is he?”
“You must be mistaken. The café’s patrons don’t just disappear into thin air.”
“I know. But I also know what I just saw. We must speak to Mr. Marchand. Is there an upstairs to this place? Perhaps Andrew is up there.”
“Why would he be in the attic of someone’s dining establishment?”
Her heart was pounding wildly now. “I don’t know. Please, James. We must ask the proprietor.”
Sighing, he nodded. “All right.” He motioned for the man to come over.
“Lord Milbury, is something wrong? Were you displeased with the meal?”
“No, not at all. It was excellent, as usual. But Lady Gwendolyn is certain she saw an acquaintance of hers walk in here a minute ago. And now he seems to have disappeared. Is there a private dining room here?”
“No, my lord. This common room is all there is.”
“How about rooms upstairs?” Gwendolyn asked.
“There’s nothing up there but a storage room where we keep our nonperishable supplies.”
“And the perishables?” she asked.
“In our cellar, where it is cooler. Surely, my lady,” he said, appearing sincerely distressed, “it was a trick of the light. If a patron walked in here, he would be in this dining room. We keep our supply room and cellar locked whenever not in use. My wife and I are the only ones with keys.”
Gwendolyn truly felt shaken. Her hands trembled.
“Yes, I see. Do forgive me. I was so certain I had seen my friend. His name is Andrew Clement. That is, Lord Clement. He was in the army, so you might know him as Colonel Andrew Clement. I’m not certain what he is doing now.
Is that name familiar to you at all, Mr. Marchand? ”
“No, my lady. I am so sorry, but I have never heard of this gentleman.” The proprietor cast Gwendolyn another sincere look, but it rang false. He had shifty eyes.
How could she trust him? She knew what she had seen.
Andrew was here, and he was alive.
Her heart felt ready to rupture.
“Fine, keep to your ruse,” she said, certain this Frenchman was lying to her. “But if a man by that name does come by, please let him know that Lady Gwendolyn Carstairs is a guest of Lord Milbury’s at Milbury Hill for the next month. It is vitally important he receives this message.”
He nodded and said kindly, “Yes, of course. If a gentleman by that name comes in here, I shall let him know at once. Andrew Clement, you say? I’ll let my staff know to be on the lookout for him.”
“Thank you.” She hoped the man meant it and was not merely indulging her because he thought she was having delusions.
She took Milbury’s arm as they walked out of the café into the bright afternoon light. A distant clock chimed the two o’clock hour.
Gwendolyn craned her head to look up and down the street. “I saw him, James. I am not mistaken. He wasn’t a mirage.”
She felt the tension radiating off his body as he regarded her.
“Marchand knows exactly who he is. Did you not find it odd that he did not bother to ask me for a description of him? That is because he has seen Andrew and knows what he looks like.”
“Well, you’ve left your message with Mr. Marchand. If Clement was there, and if he wishes to see you, then he’ll know where to find you.”
“If he wishes to see me?”
“Yes, Gwen. Do not assume he is as eager to resume your acquaintance as—”
“Our acquaintance? James, he and I were betrothed…are betrothed.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. Perhaps he will make himself known to you, if it really was Clement that you saw.”
James said nothing more as he led her away at a brisk pace. Obviously, he wished to get away from the café as fast as possible.
She could not blame him. Even she would admit her behavior could be viewed as odd.
“James, please slow down. I cannot keep up with your stride.”
After a moment, he slowed down and released a frustrated breath. “Sorry, but can you blame me for wanting to get away from that place?”
“No, I suppose not.”
He grunted. “Perhaps it is for the best to finally bring a resolution to the matter of your betrothal. It is long past time, Gwen. You have been betrothed to this man for ten years. There isn’t a court in England that would hold you to this marriage arrangement, especially not after what he has put you through.
To be honest, I think I will punch him if he dares show up at Milbury Hill and declares he loves you. ”
“Because you are jealous?”
“No, because he means to dupe you. Where in blazes has he been all these years? And not one word sent to you in all that time? Do not dare spout that rot about his being a Crown agent on an important secret mission.”
“But—”
“You will not sway me.” He abruptly stopped walking and turned to face her.
“I’ve told you before, a man in love will move heaven and earth to be with his beloved.
At the very least, send word. Or send an anonymous token.
Something. Anything to ease her suffering and let her know he is alive and thinking of her.
What has Andrew done other than leave you in the lurch?
Do not make excuses for him. It will just get my blood boiling. ”
“I’m not going to make excuses for him. I am quite angry, especially knowing he is alive and well, and in Brighton of all places.
Perhaps I might have softened toward him had he walked in on crutches or limping.
But he strode in looking as hearty as you or me.
I have a right to know what happened and why he did not come back to me when the war ended. ”
James merely stared at her.
“I do have the right to know,” she insisted, feeling the pain of Andrew’s loss as acutely as she had all those years ago. “And now is the time to solve the mystery of his disappearance. This must end. One way or another.”
They said little else to each other as they walked along the seafront promenade.
The sun had now dipped behind darkening clouds that were, in Gwendolyn’s mind, a reflection of the turmoil and disquiet she was now feeling.
James looked equally upended, his expression still dark and thunderous. She could see the tension in the tight clench of his jaw.
This was her fault. They had been having a most enjoyable time together, and she had ruined everything. Still, she did not want anger simmering between them.
“I’ve spoiled our lovely day,” she said.
“No, Gwen. The ghost of Andrew Clement has done that.”
“His ghost? You think I am merely resurrecting him in my imagination? But I know what I saw. I am not mad, nor is my mind playing hysterical tricks on me. He is alive. He was at Marchand’s café.
” She slowed her pace as they neared the bakery belonging to Agatha’s uncle.
“You’ll scare Agatha if you maintain that scowl. ”
“Ah, you wish me to smile and pretend all is well?”
“No, I don’t suppose I do. I always prefer honesty and would not like you to pretend that you are not feeling hurt.”
“I am angry, not hurt.”
“Your anger stems from my having wounded you. Well, probably left you feeling frustrated because you think I am never going to get over Andrew now.”
“Am I wrong?”
“I do not take what happened between us last night lightly, James. You gave me a beautiful kiss in the moonlight. Several kisses, in fact. That is something I have never experienced before. You’ve offered me everything I had always hoped to have with Andrew.”
“But I am not Andrew.”
“Thank heaven you’re not,” she said, casting him a hesitant smile. “I do not need to give my heart to another bounder. One is more than enough for me.”
“Ah, Gwen. Do not attempt to coax me out of my sulk.”
“Is it working?”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Maybe.”
She smiled at him again, this time brighter and sweeter in relief.
“We’ll have weeks together before the party guests arrive.
I promise you that I shall stay at Milbury Hill throughout the month and give you an answer to your marriage offer by the end of the party, assuming you are not sick of me by then and wish to rescind said offer. ”
“You think I will beg out?”
Her shoulders sagged, for she was feeling the weight of what had just transpired. “I don’t know what to think about any of this.”