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He went towards the door, but paused briefly to reach into his pocket.
“I nearly forgot: Harlow wished me to deliver this note to you.” He tossed it on a nearby table. “Perhaps his Lordship’s offer is more to your liking, than was mine.”
Colleen’s heart raced with the possibility.
“Do not be foolish, sir,” she chastised, speaking her denial aloud to present it the proper credit. “I am not of the persuasion to think my life extends beyond these walls. My father saw to my future aspirations. Outside the scope of ordinary experience, I possess no plans for my day-to-day life other than my charities. There will be no husband. No children. No society. I am satisfied, despite what others may think.”
******
It had been nearly four weeks since Grand had departed England, only to follow one false trail after another. Lord Liverpool would not be happy that he was returning home empty-handed.
Grand had exhausted all of his usual sources and many less-reputable ones.
The only thing he knew for certain was that the necklace had been sold to a man of an age to Grand’s father, but each person who had encountered the man presented Grand with a different description of the fellow. Grand had no idea whether the man’s hair was grey, black, dark brown or light brown — whether he sported a muscular build, was wiry, or was overweight. All he knew with any assurance was that the man’s eyes were a light brown with a hint of green. That detail did not change, no matter who described the person they had encountered.
“Good evening, my Lord,” Mr. Shelby said as he opened the door to Grand’s knock. “We did not expect you. If I had been aware of your arrival, I would have sent Mr. Escher to retrieve you.”
“Do not worry. I could not send notice. I had to hole up in Spain to wait for passage to England. I was there for two days before a ship agreed to take me aboard. There were only four passengers and no place to sleep but the deck. When we landed, I hired a hack.” He handed his hat and gloves to his butler. “I am exhausted to the bone. Might I have a hot bath and a tray of whatever Cook can create on such short notice. Even the scraps she mixes up to feed the chickens would be superior to what I have endured for more than a week. I have greatly missed my bed and her cooking for the last month.”
Grand would not give voice to missing a certain lady but, suffice it to admit, if only to himself, Miss Everley was rarely from his mind.
“Right away, sir,” his butler assured. “I will have a footman bring up your trunk and send your valet to assist you.”
Grand patted the man’s shoulder.
“That sounds perfect.”
Slowly, he climbed the stairs to his bedchamber, dreading the next few days. He had failed his government and his future King. While he had waited for notice of a ship’s passage, Grand had relived every decision he had made in the last six weeks. Most he regretted — that is, all except Liverpool’s charge to seek out Miss Everley’s assistance. Quite literally, they would never have known of Ridgeworth’s role in the theft if not for the lady’s insights, but the decision had meant more to him than he would have suspected. He had re-evaluated his life and found himself wanting in many of the things he held most dear.
He simply wished the lady’s future held promise; however, unlike the arrangements he had made for Lady Jenest, Grand seriously doubted that he could convince another gentleman to take her on.
“No one of Society would,” he said under his breath, “except perhaps Dostoff.”
The idea of Miss Everley aligning her life with Green-Harris’s son did not sit well with Grand. If Miss Everley accepted Dostoff, her reputation would suffer further. Naturally, it would prove necessary for Dostoff to quit his work for the Home Office and be officially welcomed back into his family with some sort of public ‘shaming’ to let society know that he had ‘repented’ for his so-called ‘sins’. Yet, none of that would happen if the lady agreed to marry Dostoff. They would both be cast off. Could Miss Everley not recognise the truth of the matter?
Grand paused at the top of the stairs to sigh deeply. He knew the real crux of his dilemma: It would never be his domain to protect her from the danger she openly courted with some regularity, nor could he turn aside the scandal of her father’s legacy. The tales of Brook’s Crook would haunt her days.
Grand could not justify in his mind his obsession with the woman.
“Why should I have a care if she must marry some labourer or a farmer or a shopkeeper or even choose to become a spinster?” he asked himself as he entered his bedchamber and sniffed deeply, hoping a bit of the scent of lemons still lingered in the air. Unfortunately, it did not.
He sat dejectedly in a nearby chair. Grand had been foolish to think that being away from Miss Everley would put an end to his idée fixe with her. Every night, in his dreams, he relived the brief kiss they had shared, while imagining a number of encounters that might have followed if they had not been interrupted.
“I have allowed myself and the lady to fall into a wretched situation,” he reasoned aloud. “I cannot pursue the woman. Society would set itself against such a joining. The lady cannot be the mother of the future Earl Harlow. Neither can I make her my mistress, even if she would consider such an offer, which, I suspect, she would not, for I respect her too much to bring more shame to her door. Moreover, it would not be fair to the future Countess of Harlow for my heart and body to desire another.”
“I have set your bath in the dressing room, my Lord,” his valet said as he entered the bedchamber with a light knock on the door. “Permit me to assist you with your undressing. By then, the water will be ready.”
Grand reluctantly left behind the debate of what to do with his relationship with Miss Everley as he stood. Exhaustion claimed him once more.
“Sleep,” he thought as he rotated his head to release the tension in his shoulders. “Tomorrow,” his mind announced. “Tomorrow is soon enough to decide the course of the remainder of your days.”
******
Grand was not certain how long he had been asleep, certainly not long enough to clear his foggy mind nor to satisfy the disquiet still plaguing his thoughts. Yet, something had drawn him from his slumber. For the briefest of seconds, he thought that perhaps Miss Everley had heard of his return and had made a ‘nocturnal call’ to guarantee his safety. Just as quickly, he dismissed the idea. Slowly, he opened his lids just a crack.
“What in bloody hell!” he grumbled.
A candle lit the area beyond the bed.
