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Eleanor closed her eyes and prayed for strength. God help her refrain from throwing something at him!
“I am keeping my mind open to the possibility of other suspects,” Mr. Tumilson assured her. “Lady Whitney is just the first one.”
When she opened her eyes, he turned his attention to her father. “I think we should do something in public with me as her hopeful suitor. What other activities do the nobility engage in besides balls and dinner parties?”
“Quite a few go for rides in Hyde Park. Do you ride a horse?” her father asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve never ridden one, nor do I want to. Walking suits me just fine.”
“Then we can walk,” her father suggested.
“Let’s do that tomorrow. I want to start my watch on Lady Whitney right away.”
After they agreed on a time for the walk, Mr. Tumilson left.
***
Byron had spent plenty of time watching people in the past. Sometimes all he did was sit close to a residence and pretend to read a paper while keeping an eye on the entrance. There were times when he followed people into questionable areas of London, such as brothels, gambling hells, or even alleys. Byron didn’t expect Stacey to run off to a brothel, a gambling hall, or meet someone in an alley, but he was hoping she’d do something more entertaining than going from one bookstore to another with her husband.
She and Piers spent a good hour in each store, and each time they came out, a man brought a stack full of books to the carriage. By the time they were done shopping, Byron figured Piers had acquired a good thirty of them. Byron wondered how many rooms in Piers’ townhouse contained nothing but books.
When the day was done, the only thing Byron concluded was that Stacey might feel like she had to be at her husband’s side all the time. She didn’t once stray to look at other books or talk to other people. No, she just stuck with him the entire time. She was either sincerely interested in the same books her husband was, or she was afraid to leave him alone.
It was actually with relief that Byron arrived at Lady Eleanor’s residence the next day for the walk in Hyde Park. A walk would be far more interesting than watching those two go from one bookstore to another and then having to pretend he was browsing the selection of books while out of their sight. If he had to feign interest in one more book, he might go mad.
“The Duke of Dormondton and his daughter will be down shortly,” the butler told Byron as he escorted him to the drawing room. “Is there anything you wish to drink while you wait?”
Byron shook his head, and the butler left the room. Byron didn’t think he’d ever get used to how formal these noble people were. Upon arrival, he had to give the footman his hat, and then he had to explain his reason for coming and who he’d come to see. Then the butler came to take him to the drawing room. It would be easier to hold onto his hat and just go directly to the room he needed. Perish the thought that a member of nobility would have to open their own door, find a place for their own hats, or make their own tea. He rolled his eyes and turned from the doorway.
He decided to give a careful study of the room, something he hadn’t done before since the duke was usually waiting for him when he came here. The room was neat and tidy. Not a single thing was out of place. He guessed this was due to the duke’s personality, rather than to the maid’s diligence. But something else he noticed was that there was nothing in the room to indicate he had a daughter.
Byron frowned. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He thought for a long moment and realized the library didn’t have anything to make him think of Lady Eleanor, either. No portrait of her. No book she might read. No feminine object. If he didn’t know the duke had a daughter, he would come into this room and assume he had no child at all. Was that standard practice for parents who had titles? Or did it say something about the kind of relationship the Duke of Dormondton and Lady Eleanor had?
He heard the sound of someone approaching, so he directed his attention to the doorway. Lady Eleanor was wearing a lovely peach gown that complemented her figure, especially her breasts. He still couldn’t believe the fantastic job the Duchess of Ashbourne had done with her. One would swear he was looking at a different lady. Lady Eleanor paused just after she entered the room. He forced his gaze off of her body before she realized he’d been staring at her in a way that was most inappropriate.
Lady Eleanor grimaced. “I had hoped my father would already be down here with you.”
“Considering he usually is, I can see why you’d expect that.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I feel fine. Why do you ask?”
“Because you look as if you’re in pain.”
“Well, it is painful to be around you.”
He blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“You really have to ask?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”
She let out a sigh. “It’s because of you my life has become difficult, and what’s worse is that my father agrees with every single thing you say.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. He strode over to her. “Your father is wise to listen to me. I’m a Runner. I’ve been so for a long time. Sixteen years, to be exact. I know what I’m doing.”
“Maybe that’s been true for everything else, but you don’t know what you’re doing this time.” She went around him and sat on the settee. She crossed her arms. “You’re wrong about Stacey.”
After a moment, he decided to sit next to her. “We can’t know that for sure.”
