Page 40 of A Sham Engagement

He became aware he was staring at her like a moonstruck calf. Not a good idea. Time to say something. He had to clear his throat, but even so his words came out on the gruff side. “I believe you, Elenora.”

Her face lit up. “Thank you, Jack.” And before he could stop her, she’d stood on tiptoe and planted a light kiss on his cheek. “You know, I could really get to like you, Lord Broxbourne.” And with that she shrugged off his coat and handed it back. As he was struggling into it, she was through the door and off onto the dance floor in search of her aunt. All Jack could do was follow her.

Chapter Fifteen

Jack did not go back to the ball after he’d escorted Elenora and a rather grumpy Aunt Penelope and Petunia back to Arlington Street. A journey notable for the fact that when Elenora got into the carriage, she took the seat opposite her aunt and cousin rather than between them, as she’d done on the outward journey. Jack took the opportunity to take the seat beside her, although, as Aunt Penelope was present, he kept silent. After all, Elenora was supposed to be nursing a megrim. The fact that he quite wanted to reach out and take her hand in his was more than a little disturbing, which made him thankful for her chaperone’s eagle eyes keeping those impulses under control.

He escorted them up to their door and saw them safely through it, as at that time of night you could never be certain of safety even on your own doorstep. Several disreputable looking men could be seen lurking in the shadows, out of the circles of light thrown by the streetlamps, the smoke from at least one pipe curling upwards to join the ever-present fog. He couldn’t possibly have abandoned three ladies to traverse the space between carriage and front door alone.

With them safely inside, he returned to his carriage and had Parker drive him home. The press at Belmont House had somehow lost its attraction after the way Elenora had explained herself. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to feel like that, but a part of him wanted to do so, in order to relate more closely to her. He’d stopped, by now, questioning his motives. And besides, without her there, the attraction had waned.

Parker halted the carriage at the steps up to his own double front door and Thomas came and let down the step, standing back smartly to attention. Getting home now, even if it was after midnight, would be a relief for his servants, some of whom couldn’t take themselves off to bed before he returned.

The carriage rumbled off around to the back entrance of the mews, and Jack started up the steps to where Thomas was now holding the door open for him. As he did so, a slight movement caught his eye.

Someone was standing in the shadows a couple of houses down. A dark and for some reason familiar shape. Where had he seen that figure before? But whoever it was melted back into the darkness out of sight as quickly as Jack spotted him. Had he even seen him or had the figure been a figment of his imagination? And was he just on edge after having seen those lurking figures near Lady Dandridge’s house? London was always like this—thronging with people who looked as though they meant you ill, and in all probability did. Maybe he was getting overcautious in his old age.

He shrugged and went inside.

His valet, Briggs, was waiting upstairs for him in his dressing room, possibly already alerted to his return by the secret house telegraph system whose workings Jack had yet to fathom. He bowed as Jack came into his dressing room. “My lord.”

Briggs, a burly individual who would not have looked out of place in the boxing ring, had been with Jack since he was little more than a boy. Since he’d left Harrow to be exact. Jack’s father had decreed that, as he was no longer a schoolboy, he was in need of a man to dress him and take care of his clothes. So Briggs, who had been one of his father’s underfootmen, had been allotted the task. Something that had pleased Briggs, a Wiltshire boy with a yen to see London Town, no end.

And Briggs had probably seen a lot of London by now, as Jack, eager to kick over the traces and restrictions of life as a schoolboy, had almost immediately set up his own establishment in Portland Place.

Briggs helped him out of his coat. “Might I venture to remark that your lordship is returned unusually early. May I enquire after your lordship’s health?”

Jack let him undo his cravat. “I suppose I am. My fiancée, Miss Wetherby, was feeling a little out of sorts, so I escorted her and her aunt home.” Briggs, like all of his staff, had known about his engagement almost before he did due to that possible sixth sense they all seemed to possess. No doubt the servants in every house in London now knew as well, although hopefully not all the details. However, you never knew with servants.

“I trust she is not too indisposed,” Briggs said, slipping Jack’s waistcoat onto a hanger and straightening it with practiced hands.

Jack stepped out of his satin breeches and pulled off his stockings. “Briggs, have you noticed anyone hanging about in the street recently?’

Briggs paused in the act of picking up the breeches. “Many people loiter outside in the street during the day, my lord. After all, we’re only a stone’s throw from the poorer quarter of the city, with their tenements and beggars.” His expression betrayed his own scorn for the loiterers and their origins.

Jack, standing in only his long shirt, shook his head. “No, I don’t mean during the day. I mean at night, after dark. I noticed a figure in the shadows when I returned just now, and I’m sure the fellow saw me look his way and hid himself. If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is.”

“Do you want me to take a look out of the window now, my lord?”

Jack shrugged. “I daresay the fellow’s taken himself off. He might have been out to rob me but thought better off it as I was so quickly inside the house. Even this street isn’t safe, I’m afraid. You can look if you want to though. I’ll just have a quick wash while you do.”

Briggs disappeared into Jack’s bedroom while Jack sloshed warm water over his face. He’d have a shave in the morning. A quick brush with some tooth powder and he was nearly ready for bed. He was just pulling on his nightshirt when Briggs called softly. “My lord.”

The bedroom was lit only by a lamp beside the bed—his reading light. Jack padded across the rug to the window where Briggs was peering out, keeping himself well back in case he should be seen. He waved an admonishing hand at Jack. “I think the fellow you mention is staring up at this very window right now, my lord, so have a care when you look out, or he might see you.”

Jack exchanged places with Briggs and dared a peek. For a moment, he could see nothing, as the street, despite being furnished with lamps, was not well lit, and the man, for a man it was, was not standing near any of them. As before, a movement caught his eye. There he stood, leaning up against a wall at the corner of the next street, the smoke from a pipe wafting up being what had attracted Jack’s attention. “I see him. Yes, that’s the same man I saw earlier. Do you think you’ve seen him before?”

Briggs shook his head. “I don’t think so, my lord. But it’s difficult to tell in this light. He does seem to be persistent, doesn’t he? I can see no reason for him to be loitering there unless he intends some crime, or he would be home to his bed by now, surely?”

Jack nodded. “If I wasn’t already dressed for bed, I’d be sorely tempted to go out there and confront him. I don’t like my house being spied upon.” Did the man have anything to do with Louise? He wouldn’t put it past her to set someone to spy on him and perhaps to beat him up, or worse, out of revenge. She was a woman of strong passions, as he well knew.

Jack stepped back from the window. “Perhaps you could go down and check Alcock has locked everything up, and warn him that we have someone lurking outside looking a sight too interested in us. Just as well to be cautious, especially at night. Although I don’t think a burglar would risk entering a house as well occupied as this one, even after dark.”

“I can stay up and keep watch, if you’d like me to, my lord.”

Jack shook his head. “Nonsense, that would tire you far too much. Just get Alcock to make sure all the doors and windows are bolted, as I said, and warn the other servants to be on their toes. It’s probably nothing at all, just a coincidence. He’s more than likely waiting for someone and idly looking at the lighted windows of all the houses. And I’m probably worrying unduly. I expect he’ll be gone soon, back to wherever it is he comes from.”

Briggs bowed. “As you wish, my lord. Will that be all?”