‘We are arrived, Griffin,’ Maystone announced softly as the carriage came to a jostling halt at the end of the driveway.
Griffin barely managed to contain his impatience long enough to allow his groom to open the carriage door, and then wait while Maystone preceded him down onto the cobbled driveway, before quickly jumping down from the carriage himself.
He drew in a deep and steadying breath as he placed his hat back upon his head to look up at the grim grey-stone visage of Latham Manor.
Knowing that Bea was somewhere inside this inhospitable-looking house...
Chapter Fourteen
‘The Duke of Rotherham and Lord Aubrey Maystone,’ the Lathams’ butler announced from the doorway of the salon in which Bea, Christian and Sir Walter Latham sat together drinking the tea she had recently poured for them.
She and Seaton had arrived at Latham Manor just thirty minutes previously, to be greeted enthusiastically by Sir Walter. And in such a manner as to indicate that the gentleman had no knowledge of Bea’s abduction, but had in fact believed her to be visiting with friends.
Thus confirming Lady Francesca’s guilt?
Unfortunately they had no answer yet as to whether that was indeed the case; Lady Francesca was out this morning, paying courtesy calls upon her neighbours.
The questi
on now was whether or not Lady Francesca had actively lied to her husband regarding the reason for Bea’s disappearance two weeks ago. Or whether that lady herself believed that Bea had eloped, and she had merely told the lie of Bea visiting with friends in order to prevent her husband from worrying about his ward.
Sir Walter’s pleasure in having Bea back with him could not be doubted, nor his gratitude to the Duke of Sutherland for having escorted her here.
Now that Bea’s memory was returning to her she had recognised the rotund gentleman on sight, of course. And remembered him with affection, if not great acquaintance; her real acquaintance with Sir Walter had only occurred upon her parents’ deaths last winter, when he and Lady Francesca had attended the funeral and then, as her guardians, taken her to live with them in their London home. Sir Walter had not remained long in Town with the two ladies once the Christmas holiday was over, preferring to return to his country estate and his pursuits there.
Bea stood up now as Griffin entered the salon first, followed more slowly by a white-faced Lord Maystone; surely that gentleman should not have come here at all, when he had been ordered by the doctor to rest. Although Bea had no doubt Lord Maystone would feel less anxious if he was allowed to actively do something in regard to bringing about the return of his missing grandson.
‘Your Grace!’ Sir Walter greeted warmly, obviously slightly overwhelmed by the visit of yet more exulted company this morning.
‘Latham.’ Griffin nodded abruptly. ‘My recently arrived guest, Lord Aubrey Maystone,’ he introduced just as tersely, having eyes for no one else but Bea as she stood so still and composed across the room.
He could read nothing from her expression. Nor, as he glanced at Christian, did his friend give him any more than a shrug. One that seemed to imply frustration, rather than an indication that Christian had come any closer to learning the truth of this situation.
And the reason for that frustration soon became obvious as Sir Walter apologised because his wife, Lady Francesca, was presently not at home.
Lady Francesca’s many absences from home might be perfectly innocent, but Griffin sensed, more than ever, that the woman had information that would give them the answers to the reason for Bea’s abduction.
And might also lead to the whereabouts of Maystone’s young grandson.
‘More cups, if you please, Shaw,’ Sir Walter instructed the butler once he had made Aubrey Maystone’s acquaintance. ‘I am sure you gentlemen must both already be acquainted with my guest, the Duke of Sutherland,’ he continued jovially. ‘And please allow me to introduce my ward, Lady Beatrix Stanton.’
Griffin nodded abruptly to Christian before he quickly crossed the room to where Bea now stood. As if he had been drawn there by a magnet.
As indeed he had been; just this short time of Bea being out of his sight, out of his protection, had been a sore trial to his already frayed temper.
‘A pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Beatrix.’ He took the gloved hand she held out to him, holding her gaze with his as he brushed his lips across her knuckles while maintaining that hold upon her hand. ‘Sir Walter omitted to mention your beauty when he spoke of you.’
To say that Bea felt reassured upon seeing Griffin again, even though it had only been half an hour or so since the two of them had parted, would be putting it too mildly. His mere presence had the effect of making her feel safe.
Even if that feeling of safety was a false one.
Inside Latham Manor was, to all intents and purposes, almost as comfortably appointed as Stonehurst Park. Not quite so grandiose perhaps, but the furnishings were lavish, the paintings and statuary were also beautiful.
Even so there was a chill to the atmosphere in this house that had not been present in Griffin’s home, despite his not having visited there for some time.
That chill seemed to emanate from the fabric of the house itself, as if placed there by its owners.
‘I agree, dear Beatrix is everything that is charming and lovely, Your Grace,’ Sir Walter acknowledged Griffin’s compliment warmly.