Heart's Desire

Chapter Twenty-Two

Julian had a quick and quiet word with Mrs. Rogers, then was back by Charity's side.

"I think we all need a drink," Edmund announced and entered the drawing room. Julian did not object to his friend's presumption but merely followed him. Charity had no choice but to go as well as her husband did not release his hold on her.

Leading them to a settee, Julian saw Charity seated. Then, he joined Lord Nevill at the side-board. There, he then poured liquor into two glasses. The baron raised a brow as he was handed one, "Lady Wrotham doesn't need a drink?" he asked.

Overhearing the question, Charity couldn't help but shudder. Even after all these years, she couldn't abide the taste of strong spirits. "No, I'm fine without one," she assured Edmund. "I would like to find my bed, however." Dozing in the carriage hadn't been enough rest for her tired body.

Julian sat next to Charity and put a staying hand on her thigh. "In a moment. We have much to discuss as yet."

Lord Nevill sat across from them in a wingback chair. "First, I'd like to know your thoughts on your daughter's words. Julian," Edmund indicated her husband with a slight tipping of his glass, "felt it was a young man who'd abducted them."

Charity's eyes widened. She should have caught the distinction. Lack of sleep had likely dulled her senses.

"Phoebe did say, 'Bad Mama,' didn't she?" Charity mused. "I suppose she must have meant a not-so-nice woman took them." Glancing at Julian, she suggested, "Perhaps one dressed as a man?"

Staring at the mantle clock, Julian thought back to that moment on the bank. Recalling the niggling sense of recognition, he said, "Could Middleford put his sister or even his daughter up to kidnapping?"

Charity sucked in a breath. "He couldn't have sunk so low." It was said as more of a hope than with conviction.

"A woman, even dressed strangely, would likely be more apt at gaining the trust of children than a man," Edmund pointed out, causing Charity to shudder. He was right, of course.

"We'll have Vincent check their whereabouts for earlier today," Julian murmured. "Also, he should be made aware that the abductor was wounded when Blakemoor fired his gun." Putting his arm around Charity's shoulders, he drew her closer to his side. "If nothing else," he continued, "we can begin to scratch suspects off our list."

"I'll jot off a note on the morrow." Edmund suddenly grinned, "Mayhap I can borrow some of Lady Wrotham's perfume to allay suspicion."

A short, disbelieving laugh huffed out of Charity. "You mean to disguise it as a love letter?"

"But of course. It amuses me, and if intercepted, it'll be seen as meaningless drivel from a lovesick admirer."

A look at Julian showed Lord Nevill was serious and he thought it an excellent idea. Charity didn't voice to skepticism, but instead noted, "You said, 'first,' implying there was a second topic you wished to discuss."

Edmund finished off his drink and rose. "I think it best your husband discusses them with you. I'm for bed as I've a busy morning ahead." He batted his eyelashes at them. "Playing the jealous and insistent love interest of Sir Vincent is a role for which I was made."

Although Edmund's initial words caused her to worry, the last had Charity chuckling. Gallantly, Lord Nevill kissed her hand and bid them goodnight. "I have to wonder about him. Who is he really?" she asked after he'd left and closed the door behind him.

"That's not an easy question to answer," Julian told Charity. "I'd think it safe to say he is who he needs to be given the situation."

Finishing off his brandy, Julian stood. Reaching a hand down to Charity, he helped her rise. "He was correct in that there is more that needs be discussed before we retire."