“I’ve never seen him before,” Cordie muttered softly.
“He’s our cousin,” Bella said, as her stomach twisted in a knot. “Johann van Guttstadt, the Count of Hellsburg.”
“What an unfortunate name,” the marquess drawled.
“That is Hellsburg?” Greg asked, tightening his hold on Bella’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d arrived in Town?”
So much had happened since Johann had arrived – all of the awfulness with Elliott and then Greg wanting to marry her in earnest. Honestly, she’d been quite distracted whenever she and Greg were together, she hadn’t given Johann any thought at all. “He’s only been here a couple of days, Greg, and—”
“He’s been following us?” Prissa asked, touching a hand to her heart.
“Since you arrived at St. George’s,” Haversham replied. “I thought he was with you at first until it became obvious none of you had seen him.” He shrugged slightly as he added, “I thought it best to follow you myself and make certain you were all right.”
“Why do I have the feeling that something is going on that I don’t know about?” Clayworth muttered, glancing toward his wife.
“Well, I’ve certainly never seen him before, Brendan.”
“That did not answer my question, love.”
“Marc,” Cordie stared up at Haversham. “Has he done anything else? Talked to anyone or—”
“He’s just scowling unhappily at your pretty young friends here, but nothing nefarious.” He shook his head. “But I don’t like the look of him, to be honest though, Cordie.”
Who would have ever thought the Marquess of Haversham was such a good judge of character? Perhaps it came from rubbing elbows with the wrong sort his whole life. Before Bella could think more on that, however, Greg had released his hold on her and was stalking toward Johann.
“Oh my goodness!” Bella’s heart pounded. What in the world was Greg doing?
* * *
Odds wereGreg would be banned for life from the museum if he knocked Hellsburg onto his arse in the middle of the portrait gallery. He thought it might be worth it, however. Anger rushed through his veins as he neared the man who was at least a head taller than himself, and Greg wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, he’d have surprise on his side, and he had no doubt he could level the Prussian right then and there amongst the portraits and busts that lined the gallery walls. Why the devil was he following them around Town?
“Hellsburg, are you?” he growled upon reaching the enormous blond man. And while he didn’t agree with Haversham on much, he didn’t like the look of the Prussian either.
“Avery, I take it?” the man countered, his foreign accent sounding harsh to Greg’s ears.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
The man’s light eyes rounded slightly, but he shook his head innocently. “Taking in the sights.” Then he waved in the direction of Bella and the others. “You?”
Taking in the sights? Clearly, the man had no idea that Greg knew he’d followed them from the church. “St. George’s and the museum?” he asked. “Would you like the rest of our itinerary for the day in case we lose you somehow?”
A tiny smirk settled on the man’s lips. “What exactly were you doing at that church?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Hellsburg shrugged. “It is my Grandfather’s concern.”
Had Chatham set the Prussian on them? Greg wouldn’t put it past the duke. Though to what end? “He’s having you spy on your cousins?”
“She’s not for you,” Hellsburg said, scowling once again at Greg.
“Arabella?” Greg lifted his brow in question as fury began to pound through his veins. “As she is my betrothed, I would say she is very much for me.”
“You can have the other one if you’d like. She’s of no consequence to me.”
Greg snorted and the itch to knock the Prussian on his arse was growing by the second. What an obnoxious thing to say. “Arabella is of no consequence to you. She is my betrothed. And you will keep your distance from her.”
At that, a broad and mirthless smile spread across the man’s face. “We are living in the same house, Avery. It’s just a matter of time before I take her from you.”