She felt the tears sting her eyes, and while she’d long ago learned to blink them back into submission, to never show any vulnerability, this time she gave them their freedom because she was so deeply touched by his words.
Her heart shouted,I love you!
Even as her voice refused to utter the words. Because just as nothing could be done for his struggle with numbers, nothing was to be done about her feelings—except to endure them in silence because she fully understood he had responsibilities as a lord.
“I’ll keep track of the numbers for you. All of them. How long you’ve been married. How many children you have. How many dogs. We’ll arrange a secret assignation where we simply pass each other on the street, and I’ll tell you what you need to know so you can repeat it. Even if you can’t fully appreciate the numbers, if they seem without context.”
“You think your protector will be happy about that?”
“Hollie is often viewed as soft, but he knows what is needed to project power, and he ensured that when the time came, I could lay out my terms and if a gent wanted to serve as my benefactor, he had to accept them. We can remain friends, Langdon, even if we’re not lovers.”
Chapter 28
Sitting at her small desk in her tiny library, Marlowe studied her finances. Another week, two at the most and she would have to bring this respite from the trials of life to an end and become once more akeptwoman.
Based on the number of men who had approached her that first night after Hollie let it be known she was on the hunt, she suspected it would take only a few days to find his replacement. She already had a list of the lords she wouldn’t even bother to consider. She had yet to compile the names of those she would deem a possibility, because she didn’t want images of other men she might like filling her head when she was with Langdon.
Not that any would outshine him.
At the sound of the hushed footfalls, she looked up as her butler approached.
“His lordship is here, madam. He has with him a rather large gentleman. They’re waiting for you in the parlor.”
His lordship. Hollie. The butler knew as well asshe did that she didn’t have the option of not being at home when he called. Such was the life of a mistress. She really should write a book on the perils and pleasures of serving as a courtesan.
“Let him know I’ll be right there.” Shoving back her chair, she stood and fluffed out her skirt. On her way to the door, she stopped in front of a mirror and tidied her hair. Habit. It was habit to try to look her best for him. But the intimate part of their association had come to an end. She had no need to primp. Yet still she did it.
When she walked into the library, she was surprised to discoverhis lordshipwas in fact Langdon. Briefly she wondered if her servants thought he was her new defender.
Because she didn’t know the older man—probably close to his father’s age—standing beside him, she curtsied. “My lord, your presence is unexpected.”
He offered her a slight smile and a bow. “My apologies for not sending word. Allow me to introduce Sir James Swindler, a longtime friend of my father’s.”
She curtsied deeply to the man of legend. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Sir James. I’ve read of your exploits in apprehending criminals for Scotland Yard. Although I don’t remember precisely which case earned you your knighthood.”
“Those were never reported on.”
“As you know of his reputation,” Langdon said, “then you comprehend he’s very good at finding people.”
Her stomach felt like it had the night of the stormwhen her balloon had begun plummeting toward the sea. She thought at any second it would hit the floor with a resounding thud. “Someone like my father.”
Her words came out on a croak.
Langdon nodded. “I hope I didn’t overstep when I asked him to determine if he could learn anything about his disappearance.”
She swallowed hard. “I assume you’re here because he did.”
“Perhaps you’d like to sit down.”
Throwing back her shoulders, she tossed her head. “No, I’ll take this news standing.”
With her knees locked so she wouldn’t sink to the floor. She’d often wondered what would be worse: to know with certainty he was dead or to learn he was alive and well but had abandoned them. She girded herself against the onslaught of emotions waiting at the periphery of her heart and soul.
Sir James’s eyes held regret, sorrow, and sympathy. She knew before he even spoke the ending of this tale.
“Around the time of your father’s disappearance, in a remote area of Wales, a group of farmers reported seeing a fire-breathing dragon fall from the sky.”
Her stomach concluded its drop to the floor. “My father’s balloon was decorated with dragons. Hydrogen is quite combustible. That balloon wouldn’t have been the first to suffer such a mishap.”
