Page 19

Sebastian had exhaled and forced his thoughts elsewhere, settling in with Harriet and Lady Wood to discuss the books they had ordered at Hatchards.

He learned, in the course of their conversation, that Lady Wood’s late husband had met his end in a most spectacularly foolish way—breaking into another lord’s home over a card game dispute, pistol in hand, only to be shot for his trouble.

Sebastian had to admire Lady Wood’s composure as she had spoken of it, her voice light, as though she were discussing the weather. “It was a mercy, in truth. I would not have relished the alternative—him being hanged for trespass and attempted murder.”

Harriet had reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand in support. “You deserved better,” she had said quietly.

“And I have found better. A peaceful home. Good company. What more could I ask?”

The conversation had turned lighter after that, and soon, they arrived at Harriet’s townhouse.

As the footman opened the carriage door, Sebastian had stepped down first, offering his hand to Harriet, then to Lady Wood.

Harriet’s fingers were steady in his grasp, but he could not help but remember how they had trembled, just slightly, when she had slipped from the ladder in Hatchards, right before he had kissed her.

The memory sent a rush of warmth through him, quickly followed by irritation at his own foolhardy weakness.

The door to the townhouse had opened before they reached it. Mrs. Finch, the formidable housekeeper, stood at the threshold, her expression as impassive as ever.

Harriet ordered tea, and Finch replied that a guest was waiting for her. Sebastian did not miss the way Harriet’s posture stiffened ever so slightly before she stepped inside. She had turned back to them and, with a smile too serene to be genuine, gestured toward the drawing room.

“Well, come in, then. No use lingering in the cold.”

Sebastian had followed, noting the slight tension in her shoulders as they entered the painted room.

And then he understood—Harriet’s father was in the room.

Bertram Hargreaves stood at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the street with the rigid air of a man who disapproved of everything he saw.

He turned only when Harriet stepped inside, his cold blue eyes raking over her before flicking to Sebastian.

Harriet took a seat and invited her father to join them for tea.

“Well,” Hargreaves eventually declared after staring at Sebastian for several icy seconds, his voice as smooth as silk, the menacing tone insidious. “Lady Slight, I see you are still keeping questionable company.”

Lady Wood, the viscount ignored completely; presumably, a lowly widow was too below his station to acknowledge even with a sneering insult.

Sebastian smiled, unruffled. “A pleasure as always, Lord Hargreaves.”

The older man ignored him, his gaze settling on Lady Wood next, and though his expression did not change, Sebastian sensed the slight curl of disdain that lingered beneath the surface.

Hargreaves considered a spare to a duke beneath his notice.

To make matters worse, Sebastian was no longer even the spare. His brother had sired his heir.

Harriet did not acknowledge her father’s comment. “You must have urgent business with me if you have taken the trouble to visit,” she said lightly.

Hargreaves gave a faint smile and turned fully toward them. “I am merely paying a visit to my only child. Is that so unusual?”

“It is,” Harriet returned. “Unless you are here to harass my staff again. But let us not waste time pretending. What is it you really want?”

Sebastian observed with mild fascination as she held her father’s gaze without the slightest hesitation.

The flinty viscount was not a man easily ignored—his presence compelling, the kind that made lesser men quail.

Yet Harriet faced him with the same effortless poise she had always possessed, as though he were nothing more than an inconvenience she meant to endure.

Sebastian was impressed. Harriet had always quavered in her father’s presence, so this was an invigorating evolution to witness.

Hargreaves sighed, as if disappointed by her lack of pretense. “Very well. I came to inquire about a certain … absence.”

The viscount’s attention shifted to Lady Wood and Sebastian briefly, and Sebastian guessed the wintry lord was being vague intentionally.

Perhaps he had not expected the audience for this discussion, but Harriet was obviously unwilling to make allowances for privacy.

It was an astute maneuver to gain the upper hand, and Sebastian was impressed to see it.

As a girl, Harriet had always been petrified of disappointing her disapproving parent.

Harriet arched an auburn brow. “Whose absence?”

A thin smile. “Cooper.”

Sebastian sat straighter. The name tickled the edge of his memory, but he could not immediately place it. But then, it was a common name. Perhaps it was nothing.

Harriet, for her part, did not react—at least, not visibly. “And why, pray, would I know anything about that?” she asked smoothly.

Her father’s freezing stare sharpened. “Because Cooper vanished last night, and we discussed this matter just days ago.”

Sebastian stilled. Harriet had lied about spending last evening at home. The reminder left a sour taste in his mouth. Had she met with this Cooper? But he said nothing. He merely sat, watchful and silent, as Harriet’s expression remained calm.

“I have no knowledge to share,” she stated evenly.

Hargreaves chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Cooper could not leave without a … benefactor.”

Sebastian watched Harriet closely, waiting for some sign of unease. But she only tilted her head. “Perhaps. Or perhaps Cooper simply decided to forge a new path.”

Her father’s gaze did not waver. “Such an endeavor will not last long without protection.”

Harriet’s smile was saccharine. “I shall be sure to keep that in mind, should I ever have an opportunity to discuss it with … Cooper.”

It was clear father and daughter were being enigmatic on purpose.

Sebastian glanced toward the doorway then, drawn by the suggestion of movement beyond the threshold. The young waif stood just beyond the painted room, her wide, anxious eyes peeking in before she darted back out of sight like a frightened rabbit.

Jem.

Sebastian frowned, unsettled by the unease in her posture, but then Mrs. Finch entered, carrying the tea tray, and the moment passed.

Harriet poured the tea herself, her movements graceful and deliberate. “Will you take tea, Father?” she asked sweetly.

Hargreaves’s mouth thinned. “No.”

She handed a cup to Lady Wood before turning her attention back to him. “Then I suppose this discussion has run its course.”

Sebastian did not miss the suggestion of irritation in the viscount’s expression. Harriet had dismissed him. Neatly, efficiently.

And Bertram Hargreaves knew it. He glanced toward Sebastian then, his lips curling. “I am sure, Lord Sebastian, that you have no interest in such sordid matters of discarded affairs.”

Affairs? Was Hargreaves alluding to Harriet having an affair with this Cooper fellow? To what end would Hargreaves do so? To frighten Sebastian off as a suitor?

Sebastian lifted his cup. Uncertain of the game Hargreaves was playing, Sebastian decided to lay a safe card upon the table, neither a gamble nor a concession.

Hargreaves had a terrible reputation as a landlord back in Wiltshire.

Several of his tenants had been accommodated by the duke at Avonmead over the years after Hargreaves failed to resolve their complaints.

So Sebastian chose to prod at this sore point, rather than reveal he was in the dark about their cryptic quarrel.

“Indeed. Though I do find discussions of integrity in land stewardship quite fascinating.”

Harriet’s lips twitched. Hargreaves’s gaze turned from ice to freezing. And then, with a dangerous growl—a warning, perhaps—Hargreaves turned toward the door.

“Good day, Harriet.”

She sipped her tea. “Good day, Father.”

The viscount left without another word.

Sebastian leaned back, studying Harriet over the rim of his cup. “You handled that well.”

She lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug, but did not meet his gaze. “I have had months of practice.”

His brow tightened. Again the mention of these past few months. And Lady Wood had mentioned she had been staying with Harriet for the same time period. What did it all mean?

Harriet was hiding something.

But what?