He turned back to Vivianne. “You look comfortable enough.”
She rolled her eyes.
Had she always been so peevish?
“Out of mutual respect and concern for your father,” he said with lowered tone, “we will agree to treat one another with civility.”
“Do not speak to me as if I was your vassal.”
He frowned. “When have I ever treated you poorly?”
“Nearly every day I worked at the Hall.” She glanced heavenward. “Getting in my way. Stealing my cart. Accosting me in out of the way places.”
“I seem to remember your enthusiastic participation.”
“Perhaps.”
“And,” he drew the word out, “I was deeply infatuated.”
“Oh! Iknow. And how you exploited your advantages…”
“I wanted to marry you. Iwouldhave married you.”
She didn’t argue. She couldn’t.
“You married your baron instead,” he finished.
“My baron.” She shivered slightly but covered the reaction with another lift of her shoulder. “How galled your father was by having to treat me with civility. Every time I met him in town, he stumbled over naming meLady.”
A discordant note rung in Harbury’s mind.
His father had led him to believe he’d arranged Vivianne’s first marriage. If so, why would he have resented her elevation?
Had the old duke resented the lengths he had to go to extract her from his son’s life?
Or had he left out—or altered—pertinent details about the events surrounding the interruption of their elopement?
He tucked the question away. His main concern, at present, must be Anderson.
“Tell me about your father. When, exactly, was the last time he was seen? And do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
“He and I parted just after dinner. He took his port at the usual time in the usual fashion. When Mrs. Grant came in to collect the glass and remind him to go up to bed, the only odd thing she noticed was the book he held in his lap. She said she’d never seen the book before.”
Harbury felt a rushing sensation. “What was the book’s name?”
“The title was not in English.”
The Romance of Melusine, he’d wager.
“What’s more,” Vivianne continued, “He said something odd. He said, ‘The imposter found the chamber andmustbe stopped.’ I assume he meant you.”
“Imposter? Me? What the devil, Viv?!”
“Itoldyou he’s been ill.”
“Are you suggesting your father is not in his right mind?”
Vivianne’s gaze raked him first up, then down. She pursed her lips and then shook her head. “Did you notreadthe letters I sent?”
