Page 18 of One Waltz with the Viscount

‘He talked of his parents pushing him towards a certain young woman, but he only referenced her as Lady P. I know from her letters that Selina was trying to work out who Lady P could be, but she did not have any luck—or, at least, not that she told me.’ She screwed up her eyes, desperately trying to remember the details of her father’s letters. It was many months ago and, after reading all the letters through once, she had refused to read them again. It had been quite clear to her that their father, although likely wealthy and titled, had been a scoundrel. She was under no illusion that he had probably promised their mother marriage and a life as his wife, but instead had used her until he’d grown bored, then moved on to marry a woman of his own class.

‘Did the letters have a date on them?’

Sarah thought back, trying to recall all the details.

‘Seventeen ninety-two. Does that help?’

‘It may help with identifying Lady P. I do not know who was out in society that year, but if Lady P was an eligible young woman who had her debut that year, or possibly the year before, she should be easy to identify. Perhaps she went on to marry your father, perhaps she didn’t, but there will be someone who can remember the gossip of the season from twenty-three years ago.’

‘It’s that simple?’

He shrugged. ‘If you know the right people it is. Although I’m not sure it helps us find your sister. She would not have known anyone to ask about Lady P, so she couldn’t have had much luck following that trail. Shall we have a look at Selina’s letters?’

Sarah handed him the first one. She had most of the contents memorised—she had poured over them so many times.

‘In this one she details her journey to London and her hopes for finding our father,’ Sarah said as Lord Routledge’s eyes skimmed over it. ‘I do not think there is much of use in there.’ She handed him the second, and then the third. ‘She puts where she is staying, but that is the first place I went when I came to London. They hadn’t seen her for weeks and were grumbling about an unpaid bill. Thankfully the man who rented her a room finally took pity on me and gave me her bundle of things.’

‘Was there anything useful in there?’

‘No, just her clothes, and a few mementos from home.’

She waited for him to read the two letters, then handed him another. ‘This one she sent after her first week in London. She started by visiting some of the places mentioned by our father in his letters. There was a gentleman’s club and the opera house in Covent Garden.’

‘You have been there as well?’

‘Yes. Both turned me away pretty quickly, and from what she wrote I think they did the same to Selina.’

‘I cannot see either establishment entertaining enquiries from an unknown young woman who has no clear ties to the aristocracy.’

‘Then, in her letter the next week, she wrote she had tracked down a few of the people mentioned, although she had not been able to get close to them. In one letter our father writes of a Mr Peterson, apparently a friend from school, who was one of the few people who knew about the relationship. Selina expresses her excitement about possibly finding the man in this letter, although she had not worked out a way to get close to him.’ Sarah handed over the next two letters. ‘Although in the next one she talks of paying one of the serving staff at the gentleman’s club to point out Mr Peterson to her, and then approaching him when he left the club one evening. It sounds like he refused to speak to her, dismissed her without even listening to what she had to say.’

‘Mr Peterson,’ Lord Routledge mused, nodding his head. ‘He would be about the right age to have gone to school with a man who could be your father. I would guess that he is about fifty.’

‘You know him?’

‘London society is very small. I expect I am at least acquainted with your father.’

Sarah blinked, finding it difficult to believe.

‘Selina also talks of a woman mentioned in the letters, Mrs Otterly.’

‘She’s dead,’ Lord Routledge said, taking the last of the letters from Sarah.

‘Yes, apparently she died last year.’

‘She was old and I think a particularly bad winter fever carried her off.’

‘You really do know everyone, don’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘Most men of the aristocracy went to one of three or four schools, and then to Oxford or Cambridge to continue their education. We frequent the same gentlemen’s clubs, play cards at the same tables, attend the same balls and dinner parties. I would be most surprised if I didn’t at least know of your father, if he is as wealthy and well connected as you suspect.’

Sarah swallowed. She hadn’t come to London to find her father, all she wanted was her sister. Yet there was a real possibility that, with a little digging and help from Lord Routledge, she would succeed where Selina had failed. She might uncover the identity of the man who had abandoned them when they were just babies.

‘Do you...’ she began, then trailed off.

‘Do I have a suspicion of who he might be?’

Sarah nodded, not able to bring herself to put the question into words.