Charles winced. “She mentioned it to you?”
“Yes. She was very blunt about it, so you and I can’t proceed toward an engagement. We can confer in the future—when she’s not quite so livid and I’m not quite so distracted.”
“I suppose that’s better,” Charles grudgingly concurred.
“It’s not as if I’m about to run off and wed someone else. At the moment, I just can’t continue on with her. When she’s so irate, it would be too awkward.”
“You’re correct of course.”
“I didn’t mean to sneak away,” Luke said. “I looked for you, to apprise you, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I’ve been hiding. I have a few issues that are plaguing me, and I’m not dealing with them very well.”
“Yes, Libby told me she’s claiming to be Little Henrietta.”
Charles blanched. “Oh, no. Is there anyone she hasn’t told?”
“It’s why I was trying to locate you. I thought you might like to chat about it.” Luke studied his morose expression, then said, “Or maybe not. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not thinking. I’m completely flummoxed. I only learned about it because a housemaid eavesdropped when Libby was conspiring with her cousin. It definitely sounds as if they’re hatching a plot to cheat me out of a ton of money.”
“Mr. Falcon is a dodgy character, but Libby has always seemed very straightforward to me. Despite what nonsense her cousin might pursue, I doubt she’d join in if it was duplicitous.”
“Did you ask her if she was Henrietta?”
“I accused her of lying,” Luke said, “so she’s furious with me. Penny is furious with me too, and I can’t abide this quarreling. I just want to head home so matters can cool.”
“You’re lucky you can escape. I’m stuck here.”
“How about if we meet in a few days and figure out where we are?”
“I’ll stop by next week,” Charles said. “How about that?”
“That’s fine, but in the interim, what about Libby?”
“So far, I’ve misplayed my hand with her. I had Miss Fishburn advise Libby that there would be consequences for spreading a false story about me.”
“You had Miss Fishburn threaten Libby for you?”
Charles huffed with offense. “I didn’t have her threatened! I simply had Miss Fishburn clarify the dangers of slandering a man in my position.”
Luke snorted with amusement. “Libby’s not the kind of girl you could scare easily.”
“I wasn’t trying to scare her!” Charles insisted. “I was trying to reason with her.”
“You can’t reason with a female like her. She’s too independent.”
“You’ve got that right, and Miss Fishburn is even worse.”
“What will you do now?” Luke asked.
“Now I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” Charles cut off his sentence, feeling befuddled and at a loss. “I have no idea what I’ll do, but I can’t have her waltzing around London and spewing these wild tales. Have you any notion of the ruckus it would create? But I haven’t been able to persuade her to be silent.”
“Have you offered her money?” Charles was aghast, and Luke hurriedly explained, “If it’s a blackmail scheme, the sooner you pay her, the sooner it will go away.”
“What if it’s not blackmail, Luke? What if she’s telling the truth?”
They froze, pondering the prospect, then Luke said, “I have no answer to that question, and I’m glad you have to wrestle with it rather than me. Have you noticed though that she and Penny look exactly alike?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
Charles might have stepped away then, to let Luke be on his way, but a rider was trotting up the lane. In his brown suit and bowler hat, he was familiar, but Charles couldn’t recall who he was. As he neared, Charles realized it was the reporter who’d been harassing Libby. He bristled with aggravation.
The cheeky devil pranced directly up to Charles, and he climbed down and tipped his hat.
“Lord Roland,” he said, “I apologize for bothering you again.”
“If you don’t leave at once, I will have my footmen drag you off.”
Luke frowned. “Who is this?”
“He’s a newspaper reporter who is pestering Miss Carstairs.”
“Howard Periwinkle.” The oaf brazenly introduced himself, grinning at Luke as he said, “And you are . . . ?”
Luke ignored him and told Charles, “You don’t have to summon any footmen. I’m happy to drag him off myself. I’ll pummel him first though.”
Periwinkle was undeterred. “There’s no need for violence, sir. I’m off to town this very moment, but before I depart, I just had to seek a comment from Lord Roland. You see, I have it on good authority that a miracle has occurred.”
“What are you talking about?” Charles asked.
“Apparently, Little Henrietta has returned, and lo and behold, she’s England’s darling, Miss Libby Carstairs! Henrietta has been hiding in plain sight as the Mystery Girl of the Caribbean! It’s the most fantastical ending in the world. Who could have fathomed it? You must be overwhelmed with joy. Would you like to provide a few remarks for our readers?”
The insolent idiot had disgorged so many shocking statements that Charles couldn’t decide where to begin in addressing them. Who had tattled? And so quickly too! It had to have been Libby. With the rumors circulating so widely, how would Charles ever tamp them down?
Luke grabbed Periwinkle by his coat and lifted him so they were nose to nose.
“I can’t guess where you received such ludicrous information,” Luke fiercely said, “but Henrietta has not been found, and Miss Carstairs is not Lord Roland’s lost daughter. If you publish one word of such outlandish gossip, Lord Roland will have your newspaper shut down, and you’ll be jailed for the rest of your days.”
“I can’t be jailed for printing the truth!” Periwinkle said.
“It’s not the truth,” Luke countered, “and your bravado only proves that you have no clue as to how much power Lord Roland can wield when he’s really, really angry.”
Luke tossed Periwinkle away, and Periwinkle staggered, almost fell, then straightened. He scooped up his hat and smashed it onto his head.
“All righty then.” He said to Charles, “I take it you have no reply, but if you change your mind and would like to furnish our readers with your side of the story, please
