“What time was this?” he asked pulling out his watch. He’d heard the first call from her at about four, some three hours ago. Luckily, the thick blanket of cloud acted as a barrier to the sun’s powerful rays but still he’d been forced to wait and pace the floor for hours until it had almost set.
“Her maid said she went out into the garden just before three. No one thought to check on her, not in her own garden.”
“And now it’s seven,” he muttered to himself. “Did she have any plans for the evening … dinner or the theatre perhaps?”
Mrs. Penrose frowned. “But we were to take supper with you, my lord. Don’t you remember?”
> “Yes, of course.” He dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “Did she give any indication she had made any plans for the afternoon, perhaps with friends?”
“No. I invited her to Vauxhall, but she said she was going to have a warm bath. I was worried she’d caught a chill.”
Guilt flared as he recalled the cool night air breezing over her naked body.
“If she was out in the garden then perhaps someone saw her leaving through the mews,” he said still feeling like the worst of rogues.
“Why would she leave the house without telling anyone? She’s never done anything like this before.”
“Begging your pardon, madam,” the maid said stepping forward from the shadows. “But it might have something to do with the letter she received.”
“Letter?” Mrs. Penrose screeched. “What letter?”
The maid curtsied. “I never mentioned it before, madam, what with it being a private matter. A boy delivered it and waited for a reply.” The girl sniffed and her bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t want to cause Miss Bromwell any trouble.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this before?” Mrs. Penrose tutted. But on witnessing the girl’s distress, patted her on the shoulder. “Never mind, Katie. You were not to know.”
“Where is this letter?” Alexander asked.
“It might be in her room, my lord.”
Mrs. Penrose threw her arms in the air. “Well go and get it. Under the circumstances, I'm sure she’ll understand the need for us to read it.”
The maid bunched her skirt and raced up the stairs before returning promptly, flapping the paper with delight as though waving a flag at a royal procession.
Mrs. Penrose unfolded the paper and proceeded to read it. She stopped, looked up at him and narrowed her gaze.
“What is the meaning of this, my lord?” the woman said not bothering to hide her displeasure. “How can you stand there and feign ignorance?”
What the blazes was she talking about?
Alexander snatched the letter from her hand and ignored her shriek and look of horror. His gaze darted to his name signed fraudulently at the bottom of the missive.
“Bloody hell,” he said, unable to suppress his frustration as he continued reading. He silenced her aunt’s muttered objection by raising his hand.
“Well?” she asked when he’d finally finished. “What have you to say?”
“I can assure you, Mrs. Penrose, I did not write this letter,” he said almost thrusting it in her face. “Why would I need to see Miss Bromwell when you had already invited me to supper? As I mentioned last night, I had a prior engagement and could not possibly have met with her today.”
“Then what dastardly deed is this, my lord?” she implored. “And if you’re ignorant of it, why arrive here as if the Devil were chasing your heels?”
What the hell was he supposed to say? He could hardly tell the woman that he’d heard her niece calling to him by way of a silent plea. That no matter where she was, he was connected to her now — for always, forever.
“Because I have recently discovered the depth of Mr. Sutherby’s deviousness,” he said, angry with himself for not mentioning it to Eve when he had the chance. “The gentleman has no money and cannot pay the rent on any of the properties he’s leased. His creditors are all but hammering on his door. Hence, his intention to marry Miss Bromwell and claim her sizable inheritance.” He chose not to divulge the truth behind Sutherby’s relationship with Charlotte or whatever her blasted name was. “Hence, his bid to compromise her in the garden.”
Mrs. Penrose stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “But there is no inheritance. I mean, Evelyn has an income of a few hundred pounds a year, but she received it immediately upon her parents’ death. She will inherit nothing more when she marries. The manor and all the surrounding land was entailed.”
Alexander brushed his hand through his hair and scratched his head. “Then why does Sutherby think she’s an heiress?”
“I have no idea.”