Page 25

T hough the Blackwoods’ rented townhouse was not far from Lucy’s home on Grosvenor Square, the afternoon was cloudy and a chill was in the air, so Lucy elected to take one of the smaller Penhallow coaches to visit Vera’s father once Lucy and Meg had each had a bite of luncheon and then changed into afternoon gowns.

When Meg was handed inside by one of the footmen outside the Gilford townhouse, she and Lucy greeted one another and then commented on the appeal of their respective gowns.

Once those formalities were out of the way, Lucy pinned her friend with a look that would brook no evasions. “What, Miss Margaret Gilford, is going on between yourself and Benjamin Woodward?”

But if she thought her friend would easily be cowed into telling all, Lucy was to be sadly mistaken. If anything, Meg only looked amused.

“You are one to demand answers,” she said with a raised brow. “How often have you been in the company of my brother since his return from Paris? You were even seen together looking very cozy indeed in Brook Street yesterday. Care to tell me what is between the two of you ?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “You are more adept at this game than I gave you credit for.”

“It comes of having a mama who would pry every last bit of private knowledge out of one if she could.” Meg shrugged. “Both Will and I became adept at hiding our true feelings at an early age.”

Considering her friend’s words, Lucy wondered how this might affect Will now that he was back in London. She hadn’t noticed any particular inclination to secrecy on his part, but how well did she really know him? They’d only spent any appreciable time together in the past several days. And even that was hardly what one would call a long time span.

But she’d known Meg for years. They’d been the closest of friends. And though Lucy did know Meg to keep things from her mother, she’d never suspected her friend of hiding things from her .

“Do you mean to say,” Lucy said aloud, “that there have been things that you’ve been reluctant to share with me? Because I’ve never got that sense from you.”

Meg quirked her mouth in a half smile. “That’s because you’ve been set about attempting to force me to tell you things. The easiest way to make me resist is to demand something. You know that.”

Tapping her finger on her chin, Lucy thought about it. Meg was right. “Very well, though I will just point out that I take it very much as a personal affront that you refuse to tell me about whatever it is between you and Woodward. Especially since he was quite charming to me at Lord and Lady Adrian’s dinner party the other evening. I was considering setting my cap for him.”

For the barest moment, Meg’s eyes narrowed, and Lucy gave a mental cheer. Never say she didn’t know the best way to pique her friend’s jealousy.

But just as quickly, Meg’s expression turned bland, and if Lucy hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she might have suspected she’d imagined that alarm in Meg’s eyes.

“I certainly won’t stop you,” Meg said aloud now, looking as nonchalant as if they were discussing the disposition of a pretty bit of lace. “I don’t suppose my brother’s heart will be broken. He’s said to have had many mistresses during his years in Paris.”

Her friend’s words were said in such a world-weary manner that Lucy had to stop herself from laughing out loud. Meg Gilford was many things, but there wasn’t a cynical bone in that young lady’s body.

Still, she could hardly call her to account again. They were friends, after all, and it didn’t do to spend all of one’s time together bickering. Besides, there were things besides the secrets they were keeping from one another to discuss.

“When Will and I were here, Mr. Blackwood was beside himself with worry over Vera.” Lucy thought back in sympathy at the older man’s despondency. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone so afraid for a loved one’s safety.”

“I suppose Vera and her father are close, considering how young she was when Mrs. Blackwood died.” Meg tugged a little at the button on her left glove, then looked up as if something had just occurred to her. “All four of us have lost a parent—or in Elise’s case, both parents—in either our childhood or teen years. I hadn’t ever thought of it, but perhaps that is why you, Elise, and I were all so instantly drawn to Vera.”

Lucy considered it. There had been an almost instant affinity between Vera and the trio of book club members. “I suppose sometimes people are simply meant to be friends. That is how it felt when we met, both of us trying to hide from Lord Xavier behind the same giant topiary.”

Meg giggled. “I was certain it could hide both of us, but you insisted that I was making you stand out even more than if you’d simply not attempted to conceal yourself at all. You were right, of course. Lord Xavier managed to sign both of our dance cards at once.”

Smiling at the memory, Lucy said, “And then we met Elise at the first book club meeting she attended, when she declared that the heroine of The Ruby Amulet —what was her name?—was a ninny, and she’d be shocked if it wasn’t written by Lord Xavier, so badly imagined were—Bathsheba! That was her name!—so badly written were Bathsheba’s thoughts.”

“She was right, wasn’t she?” Meg asked with a grin. “I vow Bathsheba spent most of the book admiring herself in the mirror and remarking upon the beauty of her figure.”

“Horrid book,” Lucy agreed with a shudder. “But it brought us together with Elise, so it had its uses, I suppose.”

They were quiet for a moment of comfortable silence, in the way of good friends, and when Meg spoke, it was with a worried voice. “Do you suppose Vera is dead?”

It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to Lucy, but it was the first time either of them had spoken it aloud to one another. “I do worry for her safety,” she admitted. “But the one thing keeping her safe—even if her abductor is not Christopher Hamilton, but his cousin—is that she must be alive if he means to marry her for her fortune.”

At that, Meg breathed a relieved sigh. “Of course. I hadn’t considered that. But you’re right.”

Though she was happy to soothe Meg’s fears, Lucy wished she had the ability to calm her own. But there were still too many unanswered questions for her to feel sanguine about Vera’s chances of survival.

A few minutes later, when she and Meg were shown into the same drawing room where Lucy and Will had been welcomed the day before, Lucy was unhappy to see that far from appearing hopeful, Mr. Blackwood looked even more haggard.

He made an effort to greet them, however, bowing over both their hands and inviting them to sit.

“Feeny, bring some refreshments for our guests,” he instructed the butler who had introduced them.

Lucy and Meg demurred, but Vera’s father insisted. “For I know how fond my Vera is of the two of you. I will never hear the end of it when she returns if she learns I was rude to you.”

He was speaking of his daughter in the present tense, Lucy thought. That was a good sign, at least.

“I am so sorry for what’s happened, Mr. Blackwood,” Meg said tentatively, clearly wanting to convey her sympathy but also afraid that it would overset the man.

But apparently Vera’s father was stronger than he appeared. “Thank you, Miss Gilford. I appreciate that you and Miss Penhallow have been kind enough to stop by.”

After they murmured their demurrals, Lucy decided she’d best strike while the iron was hot. “When Lord Gilford and I were here yesterday, sir, Lady Fortescue showed us a letter that came for Vera from her fiancé in Philadelphia, Mr. Christopher Hamilton.”

At the mention of Hamilton, Richard Blackwood’s countenance hardened. “That scoundrel was not my daughter’s betrothed. The two of them may have formed an attachment, but it wasn’t one that I condoned. The fellow even had a maid installed in my household to carry notes between them.”

Vera’s father scowled, apparently still incensed over the incident. “And I’m happy to say that once we arrived in London, I was able to persuade Vera to write to Hamilton and tell him that he wasn’t to contact her again.”

Lucy wondered how Vera had felt about her father’s insistence that she break things off with Christopher Hamilton. From what she’d known of Vera—and she felt safe in saying she and Meg were not nearly as close as they’d thought they were with the American lady—Lucy believed it a little suspicious that she’d simply done as her father demanded. The Vera she’d known, even superficially, was a spirited woman who knew her own mind. If she were set on something, she would only let it go when she was ready.

Even so, there had been the letter from Christopher she and Will had seen. The one that begged her to reconsider.

“I do not wish to upset you further, sir,” Lucy went on, “but are you certain that Vera did as you asked?”

“Of course she did,” the American snapped. “That is why this fool has taken her. But as soon as the Metropolitan Police find them, he’ll be sent on the first ship back to Philadelphia. If I had my way, he’d be on his way to one of your penal colonies, but your cousin, Detective Superintendent Eversham, informs me that it is not possible to simply send someone away like that without getting the courts involved.”

Lucy had her own opinions about citizens of other countries coming to Great Britain and trying to manipulate the government into doing their bidding, but she kept those thoughts to herself.

Meg opened her mouth, and Lucy—who knew her friend shared her own views—sent a discreet elbow into the other woman’s arm.

“How—oof—frustrating for you.” Rubbing at her smarting arm, Meg shot a glare at Lucy.

“It is indeed, Miss Gilford,” Blackwood said with a scowl. “It is indeed.”

“If you know of Mr. Christopher Hamilton,” Lucy said, steering the conversation back on course, “I suppose you also are familiar with his cousin?” She put a finger to her chin. “Now, what was his name again?”

But instead of another outburst, at the mention of Christopher Hamilton’s cousin, Mr. Blackwood smiled warmly. “Ah, Jedidiah Hamilton. Now there is a man I would be more than happy for my Vera to wed. A fine, upstanding man, with a sharp head for business as well. It’s just a shame that my girl would have nothing to do with him, try though he might to win her over.”

At this, Lucy felt her pulse pick up. If Jedidiah Hamilton was intent on persuading Vera to marry him, then would this paragon have crossed an ocean in order to force her into a marriage she didn’t want? Some men, however admired by other men, were toads when it came to their treatment of women. Perhaps whatever Will learned from the American embassy would allow them to view a fuller picture of the Hamilton cousins.

She was about to signal to Meg that they should go now when Lady Fortescue sailed into the room like an angry swan and scowled at Mr. Blackwood’s visitors.

“What are you doing here again, Miss Penhallow?” the widow demanded. “I told you yesterday that Richard is unwell. He needs his rest while we wait for Vera to come home.”

Lucy exchanged a glance with Meg. She was inclined to argue, since Lady Fortescue wasn’t even in a formal arrangement with the industrialist, but they’d gotten what they’d come for and she was eager to give the information about Jedidiah Hamilton to Will and her cousin.

“My apologies, Lady Fortescue,” she told the other woman, linking her arm with Meg’s. “We were just leaving. As friends of Vera’s, we merely wished to give our well wishes to her father.”

Lady Fortescue’s still-lovely face twisted into a knowing look. “I’m sure you did. Now, please go.”

“Thank you, ladies,” called Mr. Blackwood after them. But to Lucy, at least, it was clear that his attention was on Lady Fortescue.