Gunn entered the room. “What are yer plans for the day, my lord?”
Giff flung back the covers. “A little spying is in order. I’ll need something nondescript.”
His valet went into the dressing room and came out with a set of older garments he wore in the country. “I’ll notify Fergus.”
It wasn’t until he was halfway through dressing that Giff realized that his valet must know what his groom was up to today. Not that he was concerned it would go any further. His Scots servants treated the English ones as if they were still at war. In the politest way possible, of course. Several minutes later he’d donned a waxed coat, hat, and had arrived at the stables. A small, unmarked town coach he hadn’t seen in years stood ready, with Fergus sitting on the covered box. Giff climbed in and it rolled forward without him having to knock on the ceiling. Soon they came to a stop, and he got out. The carriage was in the middle of a small alley down two stables from one that was open.
One of the servants from the open stable strode up the street to them. “Ye can’t stay there. A hackney’s comin’ soon, and I don’t want to be the one she screams at if she can’t get right in.”
Giff had moved toward one of the gates and pretended to look at it, giving Fergus the lead.
“Wouldn’t want ye to get into trouble. Me employer is just looking at this property. We won’t be a second.” Silence fell while Giff tried to look as if he had a purpose there.
“How much longer?” the servant asked.
“She must be a real bitch,” Fergus said.
“That’s bein’ kind. Ain’t happy she’s to come here, but his lordship can’t be caught seeing her.”
“If he’s a laird, what does it matter?” Fergus said innocently.
“He needs a leg-shackle, or we’re all lookin’ for new places. How much longer?”
“Almost done,” he said.
Giff took the hint, strolled back to the coach, got in, and it started forward. Behind him came a hackney. They drove around the corner, stopped, and waited until the hackney drove out of the mews then followed it to an area of row houses known to be home to several high-flyers. A woman got down from the hackney and ran to the house.
Giff’s coach came to a halt, and Fergus appeared at the carriage door window. “I’ll be a few minutes. She’ll be in a temper at the weather. Someone’s bound to come in or out for somethin’.” The groom strolled down the street as if he enjoyed being out in the rain. “Here now, let me help ye with that.”
Giff glanced out and saw Fergus with a woman.
“Oh, thank you.” The servant handed him the basket. “My mistress is going to be upset that her breakfast is late. Especially in this weather.”
“That’s a might heavy for someone as slight as ye.”
“It will all be over soon, and we can get back to normal,” the woman said. “None of this running back and forth at night and early morning.”
“I’m glad for ye,” Fergus said sympathetically.
That was the same thing the other servant had told them.
“What’s going to make the change?” he asked.
“Her protector is getting married. Once that happens it will all go back to the way it was.”
“Didn’t know a gentleman gettin’ married kept his mistress.”
“It’s not a love match.” They passed by the coach window, but all Giff could see was her bonnet. “Here we are. I’ll take the basket now. Thank you for your help.”
“Not at’all. I’ll carry it to the door fer ye.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
Giff’s hands curled into fists. That blackguard. He’d kill Normanby if it would solve anything. Somehow Giff had to stop Alice from marrying the cad. The question was how to do it. He forced his hands to relax and focus on the two pieces of information he had discovered. First, Normanby was under the hatches, and second, he had no intention of giving up his mistress after he married, and he was taking great pains to continue to be with her. Giff had always known the man was a runagate. He could tell Worthington and leave it in his hands. But young ladies weren’t always capable of seeing the truth about a gentleman. Even a lady as astute as Alice might do something stupid like elope with the rogue. No. It would be better for Giff to continue to befriend her and be there when Normanby’s true nature was revealed, either by chance or because Giff engineered it. And it would be better for her to discover the cur’s infamy that way. Her anger would soon end any feelings she had for him. He glanced out the window and noticed they were almost home. Another visit to Hatchards was in order. He had a feeling she was often at the bookstore.
* * *
Rain.
Alice rolled over and pulled up the covers. She really could not complain. They had not had much rain at all this Season. It was England, and one needed rain for all sorts of things. A longish nose appeared in the opening between the bed hangings. “You can come.”
Posy’s nose and head poked through, followed by one paw placed on the embroidered counterpane. The other paw joined it. Eventually, the rest of her body made it onto the bed, and she snuggled next to Alice with a soft moan.
“Someone is going to be looking for you soon.” How had the Dane escaped? It did not matter. Alice had no reason to rise immediately. The door opened and the muffled sounds of the fireplace being cleaned, then a fire being built could be heard. It really was early.
Suddenly the hangings were drawn back. “My lady. There you are!”
Where else would she be but in her bed? Something heavy landed on her stomach. She glanced down. Posy’s head. Alice rubbed her eyes. “I must have gone back to sleep.”
“It’s time to get up now,” her dresser said. “Come, Miss Posy. As much as you detest the rain, you must go out.”
“Someone should build a covered area for them.” Alice would mention it to Matt. She pushed the dog. “I cannot rise with your head on my stomach. Up.” Posy looked at Alice as if she had betrayed the Dane. It was time to be firmer. “Up.” Reluctantly the dog climbed out of the bed. She swung her legs over the side and almost stepped on Posy resting on the floor. Alice carefully arched her back to miss the dog as she left the bed. By the time she had dressed, a footman had taken the Dane to go for a walk.
When Alice reached the stairs, Theo and Mary had their heads together, speaking in hushed voices.
What were they up to? “Good morning.”
The girls broke apart and greeted her.
