At that moment, Moreham would have been hard pressed to remember where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. Saving Britain from French sympathizers? Protecting Gillian from Percy Arnold’s compatriots?
He feasted on Gillian’s lips and rejoiced when her tongue touched his. How would he ever exist without this woman?
A cough broke through the fog around them. He eased back only to bask in the sight of Gillian’s befuddled expression––as she moved closer for another kiss. Another cough. He smiled down at her and pressed a finger to her lips before seeing one of the footmen at the now open library doors.
“I hope you are here to tell us the house is on fire or perhaps word has come the King is approaching the front gate. Any other reason to interrupt will not be acceptable.”
The footman looked over his shoulder. “Um…my lord. Um…the Dowager Countess of Moreham and Lady Philomena Preston.”
He should have known.
Chapter 12
Gillian burst out laughing at the announcement of the arrival of her mother-in-law and Philly. The folly of thinking either lady would leave them to search Whitings by themselves was the outside of enough.
“Darlings, how wonderful to see you both. Only after you left, Philly and I realized our calendars were clear and we decided to join you. We were packed and ready to depart. It was just a simple matter of loading the coach and leaving Town.”
Moreham kept his arm around Gillian and led her over to the middle of the room where his mother and Philly stood. Both ladies grinned at them. She could hear the words “I told you so” resounding through the air. Clearly, the ladies smelled a love match and were thrilled at the prospect.
Gillian embraced each in turn then motioned for them to sit. Moreham leaned over and kissed his mother’s cheek first then Philly’s.
“Mama, I thought we all agreed Gillian and I would come ahead so she could see to the arrangements for the house party?”
“Yes, dear, but now the four of us can make quick work of the details and enjoy a day of leisure before Isadora’s horde descends upon us.”
Philly snorted. “I’ve seen the guest list and horde is an apt description of that lot.”
“Are you saying my uncle’s guests are not proper?”
“No, dear, I am saying any time members of Parliament are one’s guests, one has a horde.” Philly replied. The woman’s eyes were full of meaning.
Gillian looked around the ladies to find Perkins standing in front of the footman.
“May we have a tea tray please? Also, Perkins, I am sure the ladies would enjoy sampling Cook’s desserts.”
“Oh yes, we had supper at an inn about two hours ago but I am most decidedly peckish.” The dowager countess smiled at the butler.
Both servants disappeared and the door closed. No one spoke for several minutes. Philly and the dowager exchanged a speaking look and motioned for Gillian and Moreham to follow them over to the fireplace.
“So sorry for the change in plans, but we have to warn you. Sturmbridge has disappeared. Cross and others are tearing London apart trying to find him. The last Cross knew Sturmbridge was to visit a fencing club listed in Arnold’s ledger.”
Moreham muttered something Gillian couldn’t decipher. She tensed, waiting for someone to explain. It was worrisome to not know where Sturmbridge was at present. Surely, this group was used to one of their agents disappearing from time to time. He was a viscount after all with a large family if she remembered correctly.
“He may have been called from Town on a family matter.” Gillian voiced her thoughts. The others did not seem to give her words any credence.
Moreham smiled at her but shook his head. “No, we have very specific procedures for not being where we are supposed to be. Sturm would have contacted Cross or Philly if word had come requiring his presence at one of his estates.”
Philly nodded. “Also, we always think the worst in our business. We stay alive that way.”
“So, what is the worst?” she asked afraid of the answer.
Moreham took her hand. “The worst is Percy Arnold’s compatriots know of Sturm’s affiliation with Whitehall and by deduction knows all our identities. This means we must complete our search of the house and grounds as quickly as possible.”
Philly nodded. “Yes, our timeline has changed. To be desperate enough to take an agent, the traitors are ratcheting up the stakes. May I suggest after a cup of tea we all retire. Gillian, best to give Sylvia and me rooms on whatever floors most of your guests will be staying.”
Philly waved her hand to cut off Gillian’s reply. “Your aunt spent a bit of time discussing who her guests were and where they were to stay. If upon her arrival, we are settled in two of her special bedchambers as she calls them, there will be nothing she can do. Isadora always worries about what others are thinking of her. She’ll not say a word about the change.
“None of the guests will question it, if Sylvia and I have more sumptuous bedchambers. You are newly wedded and wish to please your new mama-in-law. Once the staff retires, we will check the suites on that floor. You and Moreham will search the duke’s rooms. I am assuming our arrival interrupted your search. Did you find anything here?”
Moreham shook his head. “No, you have the right of it. The desk is full of stationery and extra inkwells and quills. No hidden drawers. I checked behind the paintings and found no safe.”
Gillian spoke up. “That’s because the safe is in the duke’s sitting room. My aunt’s jewels are stored in that
