An Unexpected Encounter by Deb Marlowe

Author:Deb Marlowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Yes, the Tierney girl,” James said to one of Cotwell’s servants. “I am one of her trustees. I’ve come to see how she’s getting on.”

Lord, he was so far gone he didn’t blink an eye at the lie. He’d barely given Freddy’s girl a second thought since he’d sent her here—because truly, who on God’s earth could rightly expect him to look after a child? But Lisbeth—that was another matter. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since he’d caught that glimpse of that woman outside his rooms. He couldn’t even be sure it had been her. After all, he could think of no discernible connection with Cotwell. It must have been a trick played by his guilty, drink-fogged mind.

His acquaintance with shame had never been extensive—and he didn’t enjoy renewing it now. Beyond guilt and shame, though, he felt truly sorry. Lisbeth had been a friend. Failing her might be the worst thing he’d done in his wastrel career—and his father would never know of it.

He had to know what had happened to her. He’d written to her home, but had no answer. That fleeting glimpse kept replaying in his mind, however, nagging incessantly. So he’d finally given up and dragged himself over to Cotwell’s home to investigate.

He’d been directed to the park, which was why he was suffering under the wretchedly bright sun now, strolling the edge of the Serpentine and trying to protect his tired eyes from the glint of light off the water.

He scanned faces, looking for the pale child he’d seen twice now. There were damned few children about. The hour had gone late and soon the fashionable set would be out. Lord, he might run into Lily Devreaux. Or worse, his mother. He’d just as soon wrap this up quickly.

There. He spotted a girl on her knees near a grove of trees. She was grubbing under the leaves, looking for something. It seemed entirely appropriate for a child of Freddy’s. He started toward her and she looked up.

Moving quickly, she climbed to her feet. She wore a somber grey dress that someone had lightened with touches of pink and white. She clutched some sort of small box close.

“Miss Moreton?” she called.

His stomach plummeted. His pulse ratcheted. The girl was watching him with a white, strained face. She called again.

Someone answered. After a moment Lisbeth stepped from behind the line of trees, out of the shaded darkness and into the clearing. Her hair was mussed, her color high. As James stared in horror and fascination, she greeted the child, then self-consciously touched her finger to her lips.

Thirty seconds later, Cotwell emerged from the shaded grove at the same spot.

James reeled. God. He’d given Lisbeth her first kiss. It had been outside too, somewhere on the estate that she cared so much for. Their flirtation had been light, a distraction from the boredom of forced rustication, but he knew she’d felt something for him. Perhaps he’d held on to that, somewhere deep, when he’d gone.

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