Free The Riddle of the Lost Lover by Patricia Veryan Page B

just for a little while? ‘No one will see you in the coach.’
    The struggle for control was won, but he could not keep the yearning from his eyes, and seeing it, and the way his hand trembled, Consuela repented and turned away. “Aha,” she said gaily. “Lombard? Now there is an Italian name, no? Does some great family live here?”
    Watching the velvety curve of her cheek, the way the light glistened on her dusky curls, he murmured, “What…? Oh! Er, well, yes the Lombards were a great banking or money-lending family, long ago.”
    â€œReally? Then Grandmama will probably know them and may wish to pay a call.”
    â€œI rather doubt it. I’m afraid they were a rascally lot, Consuela, and did so much mischief that Queen Elizabeth sent them packing.”
    At once bristling, she said tartly, “From what I have learned of that lady, she made a habit of sending people packing! With or without their heads!”
    â€œYou prefer to believe the poor Lombards were pure as the driven snow, do you? Why? Are they kin to you?”
    â€œI don’t know.…” A new thought banished her irritation, and she clapped her hands. “But—oh, that would be very helpful, would it not? Then Grandmama couldn’t very well—” She bit her lip and cut the words off.
    â€œYou mean it would be a case of the pot not being able to call the kettle black, I think. As if I would allow my own disgrace to touch you, little signorina. ”
    â€œYou are not disgraced!” she declared, her eyes sparkling with anger. “Your war record alone proves you an honourable gentleman! Why should you suffer for what he did? You are not of his blood!”
    Such fierce defensiveness warmed his heart. He said, “I mean to prove that, just as fast as I can. To which end, Miss Jones,” he tugged on the check-string, “I must take you home to the duchess, and get started to Richmond.”
    Consuela asked, “Must you drive all the way down there? Surely Thornhill can go and collect any letters that wait for you?”
    â€œHe’s a fine valet, I grant you, but he has only worked for me a short while. Our butler, Rennett, has been at Richmond since I was a small boy, and there are questions that … well, that only I can ask him.”
    â€œOoh!” breathed Consuela her eyes very wide. “What a very good notion, Jack. The servants know everything! ”
    *   *   *
    â€œSo good of Consuela to accompany my niece to the lending library.” The sofa occupied by Mrs. Monica Hughes-Dering creaked protestingly as she turned to select another sweetmeat from the box beside her. “I would gladly have gone with Minerva,” she lied, nudging away the golden spaniel that had settled itself on her foot. “But my constitution is frail, you know, and I cannot like wintry weather. How fortunate that you should have chosen today to call upon me, Duchess. My little London house is close to everything, but I declare none of my friends will venture out in the rain, and I was like to die from boredom till you came. Now, with the girls gone, we can enjoy a comfortable cose.”
    The ‘little London house’ was a luxurious mansion located off Dover Street, and was considered by most people much too large to be occupied by one person. However, it had been for many years a Mecca for the ton and after her spouse had gone to his reward, the widow had chosen to remain. When she was not receiving her friends, she relied for companionship upon her numerous pets and, to a lesser degree, on whichever indigent relation she could bully into living under her roof. It was a rare afternoon that the elegant drawing room was not crowded with callers come to pay homage to the grande dame, and Lady Francesca counted herself fortunate to have found her quarry comparatively alone.
    Now, surrounded by five dogs of varying origins, all anxiously