Chapter 9 #2
They resumed, circling one another across the polished floor. Gabriel's attacks came quickly, forcing William back another step before he found an opening to regain the advantage.
“Algernon surprised me this morning,” William said between exchanges.
Gabriel deflected another thrust, one eyebrow climbing. “That is not a sentence I expected to hear.”
“He intends to call upon Lady Eastmere and Lady Rosalind.”
Gabriel stepped back altogether. “Voluntarily?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He is bringing Lady Rosalind a watercolor as a gift to celebrate our courtship.”
For perhaps the first time that morning, Gabriel appeared genuinely speechless. “The duke?”
“The very same.”
“Well…” Gabriel lowered his foil, shaking his head. “I confess I did not expect that.”
“Nor did I.” William turned aside another attack before continuing. “I think it's an excellent idea.”
Gabriel studied him for a moment. “You hope it will improve matters between them.”
William shrugged. “I hope Lady Rosalind comes to believe that neither Algernon nor I had anything to do with her father's disappearance. The sooner she trusts us, the sooner we may all devote ourselves to discovering what truly became of Lord Eastmere.”
Gabriel's smile returned. “You almost sound as though you care what she thinks of your brother.”
William opened his mouth. Then quietly closed it again.
Gabriel laughed. “I thought as much.”
Rather than dignify the observation with a reply, William launched a particularly vigorous attack that drove Gabriel backward several paces.
“That,” Gabriel protested through a laugh, “was entirely unnecessary.”
“And yet entirely satisfying.”
Their bout continued for several more minutes before both men finally lowered their foils.
Gabriel wiped the back of one gloved hand across his brow before sighing dramatically. “Speaking of impossible situations…”
William glanced at him and immediately understood.
Gabriel had not yet said a word to him about Miss Hartwell, but then, he had hardly needed to.
William had seen the way his friend watched her at the ball, how readily his attention found her whenever she entered a room, and how unusually interested he had become in the young lady's painting lessons.
Gabriel had never possessed much talent for concealing his admiration.
“Miss Hartwell?”
Gabriel stopped twirling his foil. “Is it that obvious?”
“To me? Painfully.”
Gabriel sighed. “Miss Hartwell.”
William smiled, rather pleased with himself. “I thought as much.”
Gabriel began pacing the length of the practice floor while absentmindedly twirling his foil once more. “I've made a few discreet inquiries.”
“And?”
“She has absolutely no intention of marrying.”
William looked up. “None?”
“None.” Gabriel sighed again. “Since Lady Hartwell died, Baron Hartwell has indulged every one of Isabella's ambitions. She intends to study properly. Travel. Learn from artists. Make something of herself instead of becoming someone's wife.”
William smiled faintly. “That sounds very much like Miss Hartwell.”
“It does.”
“The baron allows it?”
“He does. On one condition.”
William waited.
“She manages his correspondence, much of his household, and his personal affairs. Apparently he trusts only family with such responsibilities and has no wish to lose her.”
“I begin to understand why marriage holds so little appeal.”
“So do I.” Gabriel looked positively miserable. “She is admirable.”
William raised an eyebrow. “I believe the word you're searching for is 'beautiful.'”
“That as well.” A moment later Gabriel brightened considerably. “You're seeing Lady Rosalind this afternoon.”
“I am.”
“Excellent.”
William regarded him with immediate suspicion. “That expression rarely precedes anything sensible.”
“I ask only one small favor.”
“I hesitate already.”
“Find out where Miss Hartwell takes her painting lessons.”
William blinked. “You intend to learn to paint?”
“If necessary.”
“You cannot paint.”
“Then I shall become exceedingly bad at it.”
“That seems the most likely outcome.”
Gabriel grinned. “I appreciate your confidence.”
Their lesson concluded not long afterward. William had only just returned his foil to the instructor when one of the academy servants approached with a sealed letter resting upon a silver tray.
“My lord?”
William recognized the seal immediately.
Harding & Sons.
The auction house.
A flicker of anticipation stirred inside him as he broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet.
It vanished almost as quickly as it had come.
Gabriel noticed the change at once. “What is it?”
William read the letter a second time before lowering it slowly. “The clerk.”
“What about him?”
“He left London during the night.”
Gabriel frowned. “Without notice?”
William nodded. “He abandoned his position, left his wages behind, and gave no indication where he intended to go.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
“That seems rather sudden,” Gabriel said quietly.
“Yes.” William looked back down at the letter. “The horse is still there.”
Gabriel frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Lord Eastmere's deposit remains untouched.” William folded the note carefully before slipping it into his coat. “The horse was never collected.”
Neither man spoke again for several moments.
At last Gabriel broke the silence. “You don't believe that's a coincidence.”
William met his friend's eyes. “No.”
A chill settled quietly in his chest.
The one man who had confirmed Lord Eastmere intended to remain in London had disappeared just as completely as the earl himself.