Page 24 of The Viscount’s Forgery (Bluestocking Book Club #4)

“ C ome in, please.” Nicholas had to admit that whilst he did very much want to discover the truth, he was more concerned for the exhaustion written on Miss Sherwood’s face. “There is tea and cakes already set out. Please, have something.”

“I will pour the tea,” Lady Isobella said, casting a glance at Miss Sherwood, expressing the same worry in her look as he felt. “Sit down, Eugenia.”

Miss Sherwood sat down without complaint, the other bluestockings doing the same. Lady Isobella poured the tea, and Miss Trentworth rose to hand it out to them all. All the while, Nicholas was sitting on the edge of his seat, his eyes fixed on Miss Sherwood and his apprehension rising.

“I am just a little overwhelmed with relief,” Miss Sherwood told him, catching his eye and offering him a small smile.

“I had a good deal of vigor and enthusiasm – mayhap even determination – whilst we were in pursuit, but now that it is over, now that it is at an end, I find myself to be quite exhausted!”

“I understand,” Nicholas said to her, his concern still present despite her explanation. “I do hope you have not wearied yourself too greatly on my behalf.”

Her smile returned to her lips and her eyes as she picked up her tea cup. “It was worth it, I think,” she told him, accepting a plate holding a small cake upon it. “We have the truth now.”

“And what is the truth?”

The bluestockings all looked at each other.

“I think we should explain from the beginning,” Lady Amelia said, eventually. “I do not know all that took place, and to save us any confusion, it would be good to have clarity on what happened.”

Nicholas nodded. “Please.”

“The man came out from the gallery, carrying the painting,” Miss Trentworth began. “I saw the painting being wrapped, and therefore, I knew it was the one that you required.”

“We followed him briefly, with Miss Trentworth and Lady Rosalyn coming after him in the carriage,” Lady Amelia continued. “He was walking quite quickly, coming to a stop in a particular place. A hackney then came for him, but unfortunately, the carriage was already ahead.”

“I see. So you could not see who else was in the hackney.”

Miss Sherwood nodded. “Precisely. We presumed there was someone there, for the man did not wave the hackney down, but it was clear in its destination and intention. Therefore, we had to hail another hackney to follow after that one, with the carriage ahead of us both.”

“Then, however, thanks to Eugenia’s quick thinking, we asked the hackney we were in to go ahead. It took us to your townhouse before the carriage and before the hackney, which contained the painting.”

Excitement zipped up his spine. “You were then able to see who was inside when it finally pulled up.”

Lady Isobella nodded. “Yes, that is so. We were all present, spaced out across the street, but it was Eugenia who approached the hackney.”

Nicholas turned to her again, his heart quickening to a rushed beat. “You approached it?”

“I did. I had to see who was inside, so I pretended that I was seeking a hackney and thought that it was vacant, now that the man who had the painting had stepped out.”

A knot tied itself in his throat, aware that the next few words would reveal the person behind it all.

“I did not know the gentleman, I confess, but I recognized his face. I made some light conversation, and he did tell me who he was.” Miss Sherwood set her tea down. “He is a friend of yours, I think. Lord Marchfield?”

A deep hole seemed to open up inside Nicholas as he gazed back at Miss Sherwood. “Lord Marchfield?” he repeated, his voice rough. “Are you sure?”

She nodded but said nothing, her face still pale and her eyes holding a good deal of sadness. It was not because she knew of Lord Marchfield personally, he realized, but because of the pain and sorrow that he would now face.

“I – I cannot understand that,” he said, closing his eyes and pushing one hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. “He is my friend, though we are certainly not close. I – ”

“Whatever is going on, Suffolk?”

Nicholas lifted his head, the bluestockings all turning to look at the doorway as none other than Lord Bothwell strode into the room.

“Your butler said that I could not see you, that you were not to be disturbed, and that concerned me greatly.”

Nicholas lifted one eyebrow.

“I also had something that I needed to ask you, something that could not wait,” Lord Bothwell blustered, now looking a little embarrassed as he let his gaze drift around the room. “Forgive me, I was too hasty and much too determined. I see now that I ought to have waited and – ”

“Come in, Bothwell.” Seeing now that there was no reason to hide the truth from him, Nicholas waved his friend to a seat.

“No doubt you will find it very odd that I sit here surrounded by young ladies. I should do my best to explain, yes? Before you begin to think that I am doing something nefarious.”

Lord Bothwell let out a small chuckle, but his gaze wandered around the bluestockings again.

“I have been robbed, Bothwell,” Nicholas began, going into a full explanation of all that had taken place.

He saw his friend’s eyes round, his mouth swing ajar for just a moment as he told him of Lord Marchfield’s involvement.

“I have only just learned the truth,” he finished, “and now I am struggling to determine just why he would have done such a thing as that.”

“Well, because he is quite without coin,” Lord Bothwell blustered, sweeping one hand over his face as he spoke. “Goodness, I did not think that he would ever do such a thing as that, however!”

Nicholas blinked. “Without coin?”

Lord Bothwell nodded. “Yes, it is quite well known that he is an impoverished fellow.” A stunned look came over his face, his eyes rounding as he stared back at Nicholas.

“Do you mean to say that you were unaware of this? That even when he was pushing his sister towards you, there was not even a single moment of awareness as to why ?”

Swallowing thickly, Nicholas shook his head.

Closing his eyes for a moment. “No, indeed not. I did not think… that is to say, I thought that she was being presented to me as a potential bride because of my wealth, but that has occurred a good many times, though I do not mean to sound in any way arrogant.” Heat burned his face as he kept his gaze firmly away from Miss Sherwood.

“I did not know that Lord Marchfield was impoverished. He has never said so to me, and I did not hear it from anyone.”

“No doubt everyone thought that you were already aware of it,” Lady Isobella said quietly. “But that does explain why he might have done such a thing.”

Miss Sherwood’s lips curved, but there was no mirth in them. “I must say, it is an excellent scheme, even though I think it is quite wrong, of course.”

“It is, I suppose,” Lord Bothwell agreed, as Nicholas tried to take in another rallying breath.

“Well thought out, near impossible to detect.” He looked again at Nicholas.

“Lord Marchfield knows you well, my friend. He knows that you do not know a great deal about the pieces you have on display.” No doubt seeing the way Nicholas ducked his head, Lord Bothwell put out one hand to him.

“I do not mean that as a criticism, my friend, only as a statement. That is the reason he has been able to rob you so easily. Because he knows you.”

“So it would seem.” Nicholas rubbed at his eyes again, feeling them a little gritty. “I must think now of what to do.”

“You will confront him?”

Considering, Nicholas pursed his lips. “I am not yet certain. If he is as impoverished as he has said, then I am sorry for that. As you have said, Miss Sherwood, it is still very wrong to steal such things and especially from one’s friends.”

“We will not tell you what you ought to do,” Lady Rosalyn said quickly, as the others all nodded. “The only thing we wanted was to help Eugenia and, in doing so, help you also.”

“You have certainly done that.” Looking around at each lady in turn, his gaze lingering on Miss Sherwood, Nicholas realized just how much he had been given, how much he had gained by permitting Miss Sherwood to assist him.

It was not the forgeries that he thought of, however, nor was it Lord Marchfield.

Instead, it was only Miss Sherwood who came to his mind, his heart full of affection for her as he looked into her face once more.

She had not only forgiven him but had brought such happiness, such light into his life that the thought of retrieving his paintings from Lord Marchfield was not even a consideration.

“I want to tell you all how very grateful I am to you for what you have done in helping me.”

The bluestockings, in unison, smiled warmly back at him, and Nicholas’ heart squeezed.

“I have not deserved your kindness, your consideration, nor your help, given what I said to Miss Sherwood. She has been very gracious, not only in forgiving me but also in agreeing to help me with all of this. Without her wisdom and your assistance, I do not think that this mystery would have been solved, and for that, I am overwhelmingly thankful.”

“You are most welcome, Lord Suffolk,” Lady Amelia said, the other ladies nodding their heads in agreement.

“To be valued by yourself is something that we are all, ourselves, grateful for. Not everyone in society respects us simply because we are bluestockings, so to have a gentleman such as yourself approving of us means a great deal.”

He inclined his head. “I thank you for your kind words, but I do not think I deserve them.”

“I think you do.” Miss Sherwood’s voice broke through the quiet of the room as her blue eyes struck his. “You have trusted us, trusted me, and that has brought us such a happiness, I do not think it can be expressed.”

Nicholas smiled back at her, fully aware that the desire in his heart to be close to her – closer to her than ever before – meant that he would have a good deal more to say when the time came.

First, he had to deal with Lord Marchfield, and thereafter, he could think about what to do with Miss Sherwood.

One thing Nicholas was quite certain of: he had no intention of letting her go.