“I am certain I couldn’t stop you, despite your politeness,” Taviston said.
“If you solve the kidnapping before Saturday, do not hesitate to share any information you learn with Victoria.”
“Why? Won’t that spoil the party?” he questioned.
“First, women do not like to be left in the dark about anything. And second, however your dinner party turns out, the last thing you will be thinking of is the kidnapping.”
Taviston narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What do you mean ‘however that turns out?' You seemed confident a moment ago.”
“I am confident—in you. And I believe your wife cares for you. But women, and their emotions, are tricky.” Northfield nodded wisely.
Taviston sank back into his chair and finished off his brandy. He was far from drunk, and that was probably for the best. “Very well.”
They rose to leave.
As they negotiated the crowd and made for the front door Northfield sent him a curious glance. “Didn’t you say the Prince of Wales, a few MPs, Mrs. Denton and Lady Southey had all been invited to this dinner party?”
“Yes.”
They descended the steps of the club and turned onto the pavement. His friend sported a huge grin. “You are a brave one, Taviston.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Victoria had spent the remainder of Monday selecting china, cutlery, and decorations for the dinner party. She would prove her worth to her husband, prove he had no cause to worry about her suitability as duchess. Would such proof make her lovable? Probably not. Perhaps the estimable duke might be able to feel a frisson of affection for his wife once she produced an heir. Ugh. The ugly thoughts made her feel small.
Dinner with Taviston had been strained, though he tried to engage her in conversation. When he tried for a third time, asking her about Travels in Italy, she had finally relented. Putting aside her anger, they’d spoken amicably about the author’s descriptions. Taviston had even mentioned possibly traveling to Italy on their wedding trip. Victoria hadn’t been able to tell if he was serious.
She awoke that morning focused on confronting the one man she felt capable of dealing with—Anthony Ripley. She’d been surprised when two days passed after the wedding with no message from him. She had not mistaken his presence in the crowd outside of St. George’s, so why had he not been in contact with her? He held a secret about the new Duchess of Taviston and he printed a scandal rag. She would be ruined before the week was out. Therefore, she must stop him. Hither and Yon was due to be printed tomorrow. She must meet with him today, so she’d sent a note to his office yesterday, requesting a meeting.
She had a breakfast tray sent up, something Louisa had never allowed, and sent word to Halston that she would need a carriage and a footman for an errand. After dressing quickly and quietly—she did not want to draw Taviston’s attention—she hurried downstairs. Halston was in the front hall speaking with a footman. They turned toward her at the same time.
“Timothy!”
Her cousin’s servant bowed with dignity but couldn’t hide a grin. “Your Grace.”
Something was amiss. Timothy wasn’t dressed in the rather dull livery of the Browne household. He wore the magnificent blue and gold livery of the Taviston dukedom.
“What—what is going on?” she asked, her gaze flitting between Halston and Timothy.
After a nod from Halston, the footman explained, “His Grace the duke offered me employment in his household. My mama didn’t raise a fool, so I accepted. I am to accompany you on your errand, Your Grace.”
Stupefied, Victoria couldn’t move. Taviston had hired Timothy away from Louisa. Why? She had not noticed a dearth of servants here at Taviston House. In fact, they were everywhere, ready to serve. She had just started to remember their names. She’d met with the housekeeper for an extended period of time yesterday and nothing was said about the household being short-staffed.
Halston cleared his throat, politely of course. “The carriage is ready, Your Grace.”
“Oh, yes.” She gave herself a shake. “Let’s be off, Timothy.”
The carriage ride to Hyde Park wasn’t a great distance but Victoria spent most of it trying to understand why her husband would hire Timothy. The only explanation that made sense was that he had been impressed by Timothy’s demeanor and work when they’d gone on their midnight walks.
Too soon, the carriage pulled to a stop and Timothy opened the door and let down the steps. Victoria accepted his assistance and smiled up at him. “I am so glad you are here, Timothy. Please let me know if you have any concerns about working for the duke.”
“Everyone’s been most kind, but thank you, ma’am. I’m happy to be working with you again.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Victoria led the way into the park and once they were far enough away from the carriage, she beckoned Timothy closer. “I am to meet a business acquaintance. Please remain at a distance. I would prefer His Grace did not know about this meeting, but I will not ask you to lie, Timothy.” She could not ask him for such a thing on his first day of employment.
Timothy dipped his head. “Unless specifically asked, I am all discretion, Your Grace.”
Victoria flashed him a grateful look and then ambled over to the bench where she first met Mr. Ripley. That had been only a month ago. She’d barely known the Duke of Taviston then, though that hadn’t stopped her from sketching his magnificent body. A shiver skittered down her spine at the memory of that body joined with hers. Would that be the only time? If she produced a son, would Taviston banish her to the country? She couldn’t imagine him being that mean-spirited, but on the other hand he had demanded she remain in town when she wanted to leave.