For Your Arms Only by Linden, Caroline (best ebook reader for ubuntu .TXT) 📕

“I realize all that!” Alec inhaled a deep, even breath. “I fervently hope that is so, Angelique. I don’t believe Webb is pretending to love her. In truth, I think he adores her.”

For a moment she was quiet. “Love is a powerful motivator,” she murmured at last. “But if you have evidence…”

“No, I don’t,” he said in relief. “Not a scrap.”

She smiled gently. “Then I think we cannot do anything.”

Alec shook his head. He hadn’t planned to do anything about it, but Angelique’s agreement reassured him. She wouldn’t hesitate to tell him if something changed her opinion. He recalled one other point that niggled at him. “What did you mean to say earlier about Hastings, Wallace?”

Angelique paused in the act of rising from her chair. Ian cleared his throat. “Ah. Not so much—more an impression, I suppose. He’s been to the den, see.” Ian usually called Stafford an old fox, and referred to his offices in Bow Street as the fox’s den. “Bit of an odd one, if you take my meaning. Pompous and cold, but with nervous eyes.”

“He’s a Deputy Commissary General of the army,” Alec said.

Ian’s smile was flat and humorless. “All the more reason to suspect something’s not right, if you ask me. But like you, I’ve got no proof, just that I’ve seen him at Bow Street. Angelique must know more. Old Staff’s set his cap for her, has her round for tea all the time.”

A delicate flush rose in Angelique’s cheeks. “Nonsense,” she said in her usual cool manner. “I know nothing about this Hastings.”

Somehow Alec didn’t quite believe her, but if she didn’t want him to know, he would never learn it from her. Angelique had all the reticence of a sphinx when it suited her. He got to his feet as Ian did the same, now that Angelique was standing. “I hope you will stay for a few days,” he said, more to be polite than because he wanted them to stay. He didn’t like to see his two lives brought face to face like this. If he could have bundled Angelique and Ian off the property at once, he would have been very tempted to do so.

Angelique’s smile hinted that she knew that. “Oui, a very few,” she said. “Might I have the tea in my room?”

“Of course,” Alec said. The maid was just tapping at the door with the tea tray. He went and opened it, instructing her to serve it in his guests’ room.

“Do not worry, Alec.” Angelique laid one hand on his arm as she passed him. “Not every puzzle can be solved.”

He just gave a slight bow as she left with Ian, leaving unspoken his next thought: Nor should every puzzle be solved.

Chapter 23

Cressida almost missed dinner. She had spent the afternoon poring over Papa’s journal and its infuriating code until her head ached. She knew it probably would amount to little, but pure stubbornness kept her at it for hours.

After Alec laid out the results of his efforts, she, Callie, and Tom had agreed together that Papa was probably gone for good, or at least until he wanted to be found. Even if something ill had befallen him, the result was the same. They also agreed it was unfair to ask Alec to keep searching, particularly with such thoroughness. Cressida had been slightly shocked when he explained all that he had done, all the places he had gone, and the avenues he had pursued. He truly had devoted an enormous amount of time—and, she suspected, money—to it. Tom and Callie were anxious to find a house in Portsmouth, and Granny’s health had declined even more. She rarely left her bed now. If they waited too long, she might be too weak to make the trip, even though she had been overcome with happiness, and somewhat revived in spirits, at the news that Callie was to be married.

So while Tom went ahead to Portsmouth in search of a house and Callie sat with Granny to sew her wedding dress, Cressida returned to the journal. She hadn’t exactly told her sister she intended to stay at Penford, although she wondered if Callie might have begun to suspect something. Callie seemed to glance her way an inordinate number of times whenever she spoke to Alec—and, to Cressida’s private exhilaration, he came to speak to her a great deal. Now even she couldn’t deny that he looked at her often. She didn’t want to. She wanted him to look as much as he might like.

And she didn’t want to miss dinner. Since Alec was no longer riding far and wide in search of her father, he had dined with the family almost every night. She bundled her notes away, rushed through her dressing, and then hurried down the stairs.

Guests had arrived. Not neighbors, but a couple Cressida had never seen before. The man was a brawny, redheaded Scot with a ready laugh. The woman was petite and exotically beautiful, with sleek black hair and dark eyes. No one else seemed to know what to make of them, leaving only Mrs. Hayes and John to talk to them.

“Friends of Alec’s,” Julia murmured, coming up beside her. “They arrived unexpectedly a few hours ago.”

“Oh.” Cressida watched as Alec strode into the room. He glanced around, his eye catching and lingering a moment on her. He gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible smile before going to his mother’s side and greeting the new guests.

“They came from London. Mother has been in a frenzy of curiosity to know how he knows them, but she’ll never ask. Alec can do no wrong in her eyes.”

“Julia,” murmured Cressida.

She put up one hand. “I’m not angry, Cressida. I just don’t know what to think about him anymore—and I believe he prefers it that way. He’s decided to keep his secrets, and there is nothing I can do to