Page 75 of The Viscount of Shadows

The footman entered the room. “Your Grace?”

“Call the carriage to the front entrance for Miss Ellingford, William. At once, if you please.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Olivia clasped Claudia’s free hand and squeezed it gently. “Tell him what is in your heart, my dear. Hold nothing back.”

Claudia gave Olivia an affectionate kiss on the cheek. She would be forever indebted to Olivia and Gideon for generously opening their home and lives to her, but most of all for sharing their pasts and showing her that regardless of catastrophe and tribulation, a person can open their hearts to love.

Excited and smiling, Claudia dashed into the hall, and William stood with her cloak, ready to lay it across her shoulders. They were off once William assisted her into the carriage and the Hill Street address given to the driver.

Claudia reread the note. Sighing, she tucked it into her cloak pocket as she anxiously watched out the window as the horses’ hooves clattered on the cobblestones. What seemed like forever, they arrived in front of the white brick and marble town house. Without waiting for assistance, Claudia tossed her cloak aside, rushed to the door, and banged the brass knocker.

Dalton opened the door. “Miss Ellingford.”

“Is his lordship in?” she asked breathlessly.

“Why no, miss. His lordship went for a walk. You are welcome to come in and wait.”

Claudia’s heart crashed to her toes in disappointment.

Dalton must have seen her distress, for he pointed toward the end of the street. “His lordship often perambulates about Berkley Square, Miss Ellingford. I am certain you will find him there. He’s been going for walks there the last few nights since he was well enough to do so.”

Claudia stared in the direction Dalton indicated. She could see the square, brightly illuminated by the street lights and the moon above. “Thank you, Dalton. I will find him.”

It was a good thing it was mild tonight for late October. Lifting her gold gown, she rushed down the steps and called up to the coachman. “Stay here, Murphy. I won’t be a minute.”

And with that, she was off down the street as swiftly as her slippered feet could take her. Pins fell out of her hair, causing her upswept style to loosen, but Claudia hardly cared. All that mattered was finding Oliver.

The park was quiet, except for a slight breeze through the remaining large golden leaves of the London plane trees along the perimeter of the main path. Claudia could hear water trickling and discovered a fountain of a nymph holding a vase. Turning about, she spotted a stone gazebo lit from within, no doubt from gas lamps.

A figure emerged from the shadows, heading toward her. It was a man with his coat slung over his shoulder. There was no mistaking those broad shoulders. His head was down, and his dark hair tousled from the breeze. The man was Oliver. Claudia knew in an instant.

“Oliver!” she cried.

His head snapped up, and their gazes met. Dropping his coat, he ran to her, slipping his arm about her shoulder and pulling her close. Their cheeks touched, and they stood together, reveling in the intimacy. Claudia sighed contentedly, resting her arm against his torso. His free hand stroked the bare skin of her arm.

“Claudia, my Claudia,” he whispered. “My love.”

Claudia knew. Then and there.

She had found her home.