A Gentleman Never Tells(75)

Brent thought about the little dog he’d seen with the old woman in the park. It couldn’t have been the Duke of Rockcliffe’s dog because that one was black.

There was no use in telling the man he was no longer looking for Prissy. He knew from personal experience that all Lord Waldo wanted was hope, and he didn’t mind giving the man that. “I haven’t seen the duke’s dog, but I’ll keep my eye out for her and certainly try to catch her if I do.”

“Thank you. I suppose you’ve heard some think maybe Lord Pinkwater’s ghost is snatching up the dogs for his own pleasure.”

The server set a glass of brandy in front of Brent, and he pulled it toward him. “I’ve heard.”

“I’m not one who believes that,” Lord Waldo said, “in case you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Some others are thinking there might be a wild animal roaming in the parks and streets.”

“I’ve heard,” Brent said, though he had his doubts about that as well. He was beginning to believe it was a two-legged animal who was taking the dogs, but who and for what purpose? But as nervous as Lord Waldo was acting, there was no way Brent was going to tell him he thought the possibility of finding the duke’s dog was very slim.

The server put a tankard in front of Lord Waldo, and he picked it up with a shaky hand and took a long drink before saying, “I’m working on organizing a group of gentlemen to go on a night hunt through the parks. I’d be pleased if you would join us. It’s all right if you don’t want to,” he added quickly. “I asked Lord Snellingly and he declined. He said he’s not much of a hunter.”

Brent could believe that of Snellingly. He couldn’t imagine that fop sitting a horse in the dead of night, as cold as it was this time of year.

For whatever reason, it appeared to Brent that Lord Waldo was trying to make amends for his disastrous meeting with Iverson. Brent needed to buck up and meet the man halfway. He didn’t know what was happening to the dogs, but whatever it was, he was damn sure it had nothing to do with a ghost.

“Let me know when and where to meet and I’ll be there.”

Lord Waldo smiled gratefully. “Thank you, my lord. You can count on it.”

Brent picked up his brandy and headed down the corridor that led to the gaming rooms. He stopped to look in the billiard room and saw that games were in progress at both tables. He started toward the card room when he caught sight of Sir Randolph Gibson, and immediately an idea popped into his mind. Brent leaned against the door frame. He sipped his brandy, deciding to watch for a while and think on his idea. His brothers wouldn’t like it, but it wouldn’t be the first time he did something they didn’t like.

When Sir Randolph’s game ended, he put his cue stick in the wall bracket and walked over to Brent. It was past midnight, and some men were beginning to show signs of being brandy-faced, but the old man appeared as dapper as he looked at midday.

Sir Randolph bowed. “My lord.”

“Sir Randolph, may I buy you a drink?”

He hesitated. “I was on my way home. It’s late for an old man like me.”

“I won’t detain you long.”

“In that case, I’ll have a glass of whatever you’re drinking.”

They walked back into the noisy taproom and found a table that had just been vacated. Brent asked the server to bring two glasses of brandy, and then he sat down opposite Sir Randolph.

“I understand your father was in the shipping business during the war with America.”

Sir Randolph folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “That’s right.”

“You sold the business years ago.”

He nodded again.

Obviously Sir Randolph was a man of few words. He wasn’t going to offer any information that wasn’t specifically asked for. “Did you know my brothers have a shipbuilding business in Maryland?”

“I’ve heard that.”

The server put their drinks in front of them, but neither man offered to pick up his glass.

“Then I’ll get right to the point. They are moving the business to London and are looking for space at the docks to lease, but they keep running into trouble.”

The older man’s eyes narrowed, and he unfolded his arms. “What kind of trouble?”

“It seems that all the owners who have space available are holding it until the Duke of Windergreen decides whether or not he will need it in the future.”