Page 72 of A Countess of Convenience

He opened his mouth to answer then narrowed his eyes. “Do you want the official version or the truth?”

What an odd thing to say. “I, for one, would like both, if you please.”

“And you shall have them, Lady Haxby, but we have arrived. I believe we are going to be unwanted callers once again.”

They assembled on the stoop of Number Fourteen, and Sir Reginald let the knocker fall several times.

“What if they won’t admit us tonight? He will say it is too late.” Time had ceased to mean anything to Judith. It could be midnight and she wouldn’t have known it. But being this close to Anna and still not being able to see her was maddening.

“We gained entry to Downing’s when he wasn’t even supposed to be home. I believe I shall gain entrance once more.” Sir Reginald tapped several more times and finally was rewarded by a butler opening the door. “Be so good as to tell Lord Swindon that Sir Reginald Matthews wishes to trespass on a little of his time.”

The butler cut a sharp look at Judith and John but nodded. “Very good, sir. If you would follow me, please.” He led them down the corridor to a door on the left that revealed an extremely small receiving room. “If you and your party would wait here, Sir Reginald.” The butler bowed and quitted them.

“Can’t we just go search for her, John?” To know that Anna was here, maybe very close indeed, made it almost impossible for Judith to think of anything save holding her daughter in her arms again.

To her astonishment, Sir Reginald slipped to the door and eased it open. He stuck his head out then gestured for them to follow. Without hesitation, Judith pulled John after her and followed him out the door. They could just see the butler far ahead of them, his bobbing light giving him away.

“Shh.” The magistrate slipped down the corridor after the butler.

If it got her daughter back, Judith would follow the devil himself. She crept after him, a look over her shoulder to encourage John. He was coming as well, for which she was terribly grateful.

The butler opened a door some way ahead of them on the right, the light of the room bathing the dark passageway in a revealing glow. Sir Reginald pushed them back against the wall.

“My lord, there is a visitor, or should I say visitors, in the front receiving room.” The butler hurried into the room, leaving the door open. The hum of indistinct voices ensued.

“Find a door along the corridor and press yourself into the doorway. It may keep you from being detected.” He followed his own advice and blended into a doorway until Judith couldn’t have seen him had she not known he was there. Judith and John followed suit.

No sooner had they pressed against the doorways than the butler returned, striding sedately down the corridor. Judith closed her eyes and prayed.

The man passed, and she could breathe again. The men had already started for the door the butler had entered, and Judith hurried after them, her cloak billowing out behind her. She caught up to them just as Sir Reginald opened the door and walked in.

The lovely smell of old books blended with that of pungent spirits as Judith entered Lord Swindon’s library. His lordship, seated in a comfortable-looking leather chair before the fireplace, cradled a glass of the spirits in his hand. Lord Fenton sat across from him, likewise sipping brandy, from the color of it. The young man started as they appeared, but if his father was disquieted, he showed it not at all.

“Kean is getting too old for his job if he mistook my instruction to turn you away for an invitation to come in for a drink.” Swindon sipped his cognac, biding his time. He was older than Judith had expected, with a deeply lined face, thin nose, and spare frame evident even with the man sitting down.

Sir Reginald stood still, waiting for the moment.

Apparently tired of the standoff, John stepped forward and bowed curtly. “Lord Swindon, I have not had the opportunity to make your acquaintance previously. Lord Haxby, at your service.”

Although Lord Swindon did not blink an eye, Lord Fenton suddenly squirmed in his chair.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion, Haxby?”

“I believe you have something here that belongs to me. Or to be more precise, to my wife.” John turned and extended his hand to Judith. “My dear, may I present Lord Swindon? We of course know Lord Fenton from the ball the other evening.”

“Lord Swindon, Lord Fenton.”

The younger man seemed most uncomfortable. As well he should have been.

“My lords, I have come to retrieve my daughter, Anna Harper.” Judith’s voice, though usually not unduly loud, had taken on a mind of its own tonight. They might be hearing her all the way back to Mayfair. “Through some misunderstanding with my father-in-law, you have been given the impression that my daughter is to be bought and sold like chattel you might find in Smithfield market. I assure you she is not.” Judith peered into the cold dark eyes of Lord Swindon, determined to stare him down. “Having received permission to do so from her guardian, before he renounced his guardianship, I intend to take my daughter to our home at once.”

“Lady Haxby, if your child has gone missing, I am truly sorry for your loss.” Lord Swindon got to his feet and returned to the sideboard. “However, I am afraid you are laboring under the misapprehension that your daughter, I know not why, is here at Swindon. I assure you that is not the case.” He looked Judith calmly in the eyes. “She is not here.”

* * * *

Liar. John longed to hurl that vilification at Swindon, but if the man could be persuaded to give the child up, they would need to instill some good will in him. “Perhaps you have misplaced her, my lord. In this palatial townhouse,” John waved his hand at the elegantly appointed library, “I can understand how that might happen. Allow us to look for her if you aren’t certain of her current whereabouts.”

“Taken leave of your senses, Haxby?” Lord Swindon raised his glass and downed half of it. “I tell you the child isn’t here. Never has been here. Downing is having you on, throwing you off the scent by diverting you to me. The man’s a fox, I’ll tell you that.”