Jasper joined him by the desk. “Is there a list, Kent?”
Valentine began to flip through the bundle, pausing once or twice, and then drew out a crumbling piece of parchment. His handsome, austere face broke into a smile. “I do believe there is, Jasper.”
At that moment the luncheon gong sounded.
Startled, Valentine looked up, and found himself strangely torn between the newly discovered list and the memory of Marissa’s dark eyes.
“Kent?” Jasper was frowning. “The list, man!”
“I have guests,” Valentine said, and set the paper down carefully on his desk.
“Guests? What guests? Who cares about guests when we are in pursuit of the rose?”
Valentine shrugged uncomfortably, knowing Jasper would not understand his sudden loss of the single-mindedness that had always accompanied his quest. “They are George’s guests, actually.”
“Then let George deal with them! You might be holding the key to the Crusader’s Rose in your hands and you’re worrying about some uninvited guests?”
But Valentine felt anticipation stirring within his heart, anticipation that had nothing to do with roses or plants of any kind. It was so long since he’d felt like this he didn’t know how to explain it to himself, let alone Jasper, so he didn’t try.
“I owe them a duty as their host. We will eat luncheon, Jasper, and then we will be free to take up the quest.”
Jasper shook his head in frustration, but nevertheless he reluctantly followed Valentine to the door. Once outside Valentine turned the key in the lock and tucked it into his pocket. “Von Hautt doesn’t know the English countryside like we do,” he soothed his friend. “It will take him longer to find out where de Fevre’s companions lived all those centuries ago.”
“But he has a head start.”
“Nevertheless, we will triumph, Jasper. Suddenly I am sure of it.” And he gave an uncharacteristically reckless laugh. He would be thirty-four next birthday but right now he felt like a youth, the blood pumping through his veins, his body powerful and strong, his mind clear.
Was that because he finally had a strong clue to the whereabouts of the second Crusader’s Rose? Or was it because he was about to take luncheon with the beautiful Marissa Rotherhild?
Chapter 3
Marissa nibbled delicately on a piece of chilled salmon and looked across the luncheon table at Lady Bethany. Her grandmamma rolled her eyes. Neither of them spoke. A hush had fallen over the four persons gathered and no one seemed willing to break it. Lord Kent, still looking as if he was dressed to dig ditches, had introduced them to his friend, Lord Jasper.
If it was possible to have an exact opposite, then Lord Jasper was his. Nearly twenty years older than Lord Kent, neatly clothed, every stitch in place, and with a precise way of speaking, Jasper inquired politely as to their journey. But it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it.
Then Lord Kent inquired as to whether they were happy with their rooms. Twice. And neither time did he seem to listen to their answers.
It was all very strange.
“You haven’t heard any distressing news, my lord?” Marissa asked tentatively.
Lord Kent and his friend turned to her with such sharp, intent expressions that she was startled into dropping her fork.
“What do you mean?” Lord Kent demanded.
“I mean…I thought you might have heard from George,” she said, unsettled and attempting to compose herself. “If that is the case I wish you would tell us to go, my lord. We would not dream of intruding upon you if—”
“Oh.” Lord Kent turned to Lord Jasper and exchanged a look that Marissa found extremely suspicious. There was something!
“Kent, do put my granddaughter’s mind at rest,” Lady Bethany said, setting down her own knife and fork. “She has a somewhat vivid imagination.”
“Grandmamma, you know that is not true. If anything I have a very limited imagination.”
But Lord Kent had already taken the words to heart and set out to ease her fears. “No, Miss Rotherhild, I haven’t heard from George. I can’t imagine where he’s got to.”
Marissa glanced from him to Jasper, and found she didn’t believe it. They were lying to her. The question was, why?
“Does your brother often go off without telling anyone?” Lady Bethany asked mildly, but her gaze was watchful.