The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London #4)(32)

“How soon do you want the information?” Joseph scratched his head with the end of the pencil. “It will help to know how many men to put on the job.”

“Find something of interest within the next twenty-four hours and I shall double your pay.”

The man’s eyes flashed with excitement. “By something of interest am I to take it you mean something shady?”

“Any information that might make a lady shun his company.”

Joseph took a swig of ale from his tankard. “Anything else you need me to do?”

Vane was about to say no, but another idea entered his head. “Do you still have a man in France, in Calais?”

Joseph nodded. “Like I said before, he ain’t cheap. And it won’t be a quick job for obvious reasons.”

“Do I look like a man who cares about money?” Vane paused. “The men I want him to track down are of a criminal element. I expect it will be dangerous.”

“Dangerous you say. Do I look like a man who cares about that?” Joseph narrowed his gaze. “Are we talking smugglers then?”

“Find out everything you can about Monsieur and Madame Bonnay from Wissant. The woman died four years ago, and they found the man dead in the woods not long after. I should like to know who took over the smuggling operation. Find out if they have any family.”

One of the smugglers had offered to marry Estelle, or so she’d said. Was that part of the reason she moved from place to place?

Vane pushed out of the chair and stood. “If you need to know anything else, send word to Wickett. Oh and have a man watch Lord Cornell’s house in Bedford Square. I would like to know where he goes and what he does.” Before Joseph could respond, Vane added, “I don’t care how many men it takes or what the cost.”

Joseph gave a curt nod. “At this rate, I’ll be able to afford a fancy carriage of my own.”



It was almost five o’clock when Vane returned to Berkeley Square. Bamfield greeted him at the door and with some reluctance informed him of the new arrival.

“His lordship is upstairs,” Bamfield said with mild indifference. If butlers were as honest as coachmen, he might have added making love to his wife. “Lady Farleigh desired a change of clothes after the long journey.”

The long journey? Everleigh was but twenty miles away.

Vane considered grabbing his hat and marching out of the door. Was this to be further punishment for his licentious past? Was he to spend a sleepless night listening to the sounds of true love knowing every encounter he’d ever had fell hopelessly short?

“I shall be in the drawing room for the time being. But ask Pierre to pack the necessaries. I intend to return to Hanover Square this evening.”

He could not avoid his home forever. But it was the lesser of two evils. He would rather be tormented by painful memories than sit and witness exaggerated displays of affection.

Bamfield’s expression remained impassive. “I shall convey your message at once, my lord. Might I ask if you will dine with Lord and Lady Farleigh this evening?”

The question drew his mind back to Estelle’s meeting with Mr Hungerford. “No. I shall dine at my club.” Vane doubted Farleigh would leave his bedchamber for the rest of the day. Besides, he had no intention of spending the night at home, not when he hoped to spy on Estelle.

The sweet sound of feminine laughter filtered down to the hall. Lady Farleigh appeared on the top stair, accompanied by her besotted husband. Happiness radiated from her like a brilliant beacon. Farleigh looked different, too: content and thoroughly satisfied.

“Lord Trevane,” Rose said as though pleased to see him. She came forward with graceful poise, grasped his hands and held them tightly. “Christian has been telling me all about your poor Miss Darcy. But isn’t it wonderful that you’ve found her?”

Vane was about to offer a customary reply, but the sudden swelling of his heart gave him pause. Wonderful did indeed describe recent events. Painful but wonderful all the same.

“And I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to hear Lillian is wed,” Rose continued. It seemed she had an ability to use one concise word to convey his feelings. He was just as thrilled for Lillian, too. “And it’s good to know Lord Ravenscroft is not really a pirate.”

“Indeed” was all Vane managed to say.

“Come,” Rose said with some excitement, “let’s sit in the drawing room and you can tell me all about Miss Darcy.”

Vane glanced at Farleigh who mouthed a silent apology.

Rose threaded her arm through Vane’s. “Oh, I know that’s the last thing you want to talk about, but it might help to have a lady’s perspective.”

She was right. His thoughts and feelings were his own, and he had no intention of sharing them with anyone. But in the space of two minutes, Rose had proved to be remarkably perceptive. Perhaps she could offer useful advice to help him persuade Estelle to share her secrets.

“Rose shares my view,” Farleigh informed, “that something untoward must have forced Miss Darcy to flee Prescott Hall.”

“Indeed.” Rose’s gaze drifted over his face. “What reason could a lady have for not wanting to marry you?”

“I can think of a few.”

Rose shrugged. “Yes, you can be quite frightening when in one of your morbid moods. Can’t most men?”