Page 19 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)
After Harrison had left Perdita, he had gone to White’s then had dinner with his brother and family. Today, he spent time on his ship and met with Bridges, all the while wondering how Perdita was getting along.
He hoped that she was further recovered and had not suffered nightmares.
Now, he stood at the door of Felding’s home and hoped that nobody else was about and that he might have a few moments alone with her.
“I will see if Miss Perdita is in,”
the butler said and left Harrison standing in the entry. It was unlikely that she had gone anywhere, but it never occurred to him that she might not be at home to him.
A moment later the butler returned. “She is in the parlor, Captain Trent.”
Relief swept through him, and Harrison wondered why he had even been concerned to begin with.
Maybe it was because he’d not had a chance to declare himself, which he had every intention of doing this very afternoon…until he stepped into the parlor to find not only Perdita but her aunt and uncle, sister, Benedick and Orlando.
Shouldn’t Benedick be investigating and stopping pickpockets along the waterfront and shouldn’t Dr. Valentine be treating ill patients?
“Captain Trent, so good of you to call,”
Lady Felding greeted. “Please, join us for tea.”
Unlike yesterday, Felding did not offer brandy.
“How are you today, Miss Perdita?”
Her color was better and her eyes clearer, lacking the pain and weariness he had noted yesterday.
“Better. Thank you for asking.”
If she were feeling up to it, perhaps they could take a stroll in the gardens. It was a warm day.
“She should be resting,”
Dr. Valentine complained.
“Sitting in a chair and sipping tea is hardly strenuous,”
Perdita returned. “Besides, if I was forced to remain in my chamber for the remainder of the day, it would be my sanity that would soon be called into question.”
“Just do not move about more than necessary,”
Dr. Valentine insisted.
Therefore, a private stroll, or even sitting in the gardens would be denied by the good doctor.
“A message has arrived for you, Mr. Benedick, from Bow Street.”
Perdita’s brother strode across the room and opened the missive, then frowned.
“Has the woman finally offered a better explanation as to why she chose me?”
“No. It has nothing to do with the attack on you, Perdita.”
“Then what is it?”
she asked.
“The Duke of Clare came in to report that his nephew has gone missing. By description and name, it may be the boy, Oliver, that Trent found. Since a woman had been murdered next to the child, Strotham did not want to give the duke any information before I had a chance to interrogate him.”
“Clare?”
Harrison asked.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Yes. His son, the Marquess of Claringford, was a friend of mine at Eton…He…”
Several things merged in Harrison’s mind in that moment.
“He what?”
Benedick demanded.
“They are Irish and he had twin sisters. The second one disappeared within days of her birth, taken from the home in the middle of the night, and was never found.”
What had the woman said? Twins you both are the second to arrive. Except Perdita was not a twin. “It seems like a very strange coincidence, but I cannot help but wonder…”
Harrison shook his head. “I am certain the two are not related.”
“When did Claringford’s sister disappear?”
Orlando asked.
“His sister would be…two and twenty or maybe three and twenty. Strange coincidence, is it not?”
“That woman is too young to have been around when Clare’s daughter went missing,”
Benedick decided.
“I suppose that is true,”
Perdita offered. “Still, it is all very strange. One woman is at Bow Street claiming the second born twin is evil and the Duke of Clare, who had a twin daughter disappear, is at Bow Street looking for a lost nephew.”
“I am certain that it is no more than a strange coincidence, but worth investigating,”
Benedick said as he strode toward the entry.
“I will come with you.”
Harrison hurried after him.
Benedick turned. “Why?”
“I know the Duke of Clare, though it has been some time since I was in his home with Claringford, and he may not appreciate being interrogated when he is only searching for his nephew.”
Benedick stared him down and then nodded. “Come along but do not interfere.”
Harrison truly hoped that Perdita’s brothers came to like him better than he perceived or their future could be uncomfortable, not that it would prevent him from confessing his heart. That is, if he was ever given the opportunity to speak with her privately.
No matter how unlikely, Perdita knew that the Oliver they had found must be the Duke of Clare’s nephew and she was happy that the lad would soon be with his family. But why had it taken His Grace so long to look for the child? One would think that a duke would go to the authorities immediately.
Unless Oliver wasn’t Clare’s nephew, then he would be missing two family members.
Goodness, it was bad enough to lose Bertram in battle, but at least she knew where he had been buried and what became of him. But to wonder for years and years what happened, she could not begin to imagine what that would be like.
“Do you have plans this evening?”
her aunt asked Rosalind.
“We do. Would you like us to remain at home?”
Her sister then looked at Perdita. “We can. Given your recent ordeal, I would understand.”
She truly was tired of being coddled. “Go on and enjoy your evening. I am perfectly content to remain in with Aunt Mary and Uncle Osborn.”
“And me,”
Orlando offered.
“You really do not need to hover,”
Perdita insisted.
“I promise not to, but I do not want to leave until Benedick or Captain Trent returns to report on what they learned.”
She hoped that Harrison was the one to return. She missed their conversations. In fact, it was an ache of missing, deep inside. It was also an ache she would need to become used to once he sailed again.