Free The Wolfe Wager by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

exactly what had delayed her, but Vanessa had been in no mood to talk.
    How could she tell dear Leale about her foolish call on Lord Mendoff? And how Lord Brickendon had come to her rescue? She hoped she could trust the viscount and his uncle to hold their tongues on this. She did not want to break Aunt Carolyn’s heart.
    And now she must begin the search again to find someone to help her. Too many doors had been closed to her, and the only one that had opened.… She shuddered again. She must not stop now. She was sure she was close to discovering the truth about her brother. She wondered why her own government was so reluctant to release the information to her, but that answer was as impossible to find as Corey.
    The front door opened just as she reached it. Quigley stood inside, his face naked of emotion as always. Leale nodded to him, then rushed up the steps to set out Vanessa’s gown for the gathering this evening. She turned, a warning frown on her face, but Vanessa pretended she had not seen her abigail’s fierce expression. She needed to speak to Quigley first.
    The butler took Vanessa’s spencer. As he held it carefully, he said, “Lady Mansfield requested that you join her and Mrs. Downing in the blue sitting room upon your return.”
    “Mrs. Downing? Is it so late?” Vanessa understood Leale’s distress if they were that dilatory in returning to the Square. She looked at the tall-case clock standing in one angle of the octagonal foyer. “It’s not yet two.” Dismay swept her. “What is wrong, Quigley?”
    “My lady, to suggest that I would eavesdrop on your aunt’s conversation—”
    Vanessa interrupted, with a smile, for they had come to points like this on more than one occasion at Wolfe Abbey, “Quigley, you are an excellent butler. Nothing happens in this house that you aren’t privy to. Is there something wrong at the Downing house?”
    “I would as lief,” he said, drawing himself up to his lanky height, “say that Mrs. Downing is eager to determine what is taking place with your life, my lady. I did hear her mention Almack’s.”
    “Oh, bother.” Vanessa grimaced as she looked at the stairs. “I should have guessed Penelope could not resist the chance to enjoy a bit of gossip at my expense.” She took a step toward the stairs, then paused. Facing the butler, she asked, “Has anything been delivered for me today?”
    “No, my lady. Not yet.” She was unsure if it was her imagination or if his shoulders slumped a hairbreadth. The timber of his voice had not changed, but she knew he also missed her brother. Whether he also believed Corey was alive was something she had never asked him. She was afraid of what he might say. She did not want to be the only one who kept the hope from dying.
    A knock halted her from asking that Quigley send any letters to her immediately. The butler grumbled something under his breath as he opened the door.
    Vanessa’s eyes widened when she met Lord Brickendon’s. Their dark depths were as shuttered as Quigley’s face when he asked, “Is Lady Vanessa Wolfe in?”
    “Whom may I say is calling?” Quigley returned as if Vanessa was not viewing the exchange.
    Taking off his beaver, the viscount held it in one hand as he offered the butler a carte des visites . It was the same tan as his riding coat and buckskins. “Lord Brickendon. I have a message for her, which I would appreciate delivering in person.”
    Vanessa did not wait for Quigley to turn to ask her if she wished to speak with the viscount. She had no interest in the canons of Society this afternoon. She must learn why Lord Brickendon was calling after saying goodbye to her less than an hour past.
    “I would be delighted to speak with you, Lord Brickendon.”
    The viscount’s Hessian boots marked each step as he crossed the harlequin pattern of the foyer floor. “I trust you will excuse this intrusion.”
    “You must excuse me , my lord. I am just returned from my errands.”
    A smile