Page 59 of Gone With the Rogue
Garrett smiled. “That is good news.”
“We hope to take a stroll in the park within the next day or two. I’ll let you know so you can join us.”
“You know I will, but only for a short time. I don’t want to intrude on all your time with her.”
Wiley nodded. “I’ve already unlocked the house and had a look around.”
“Who did you get the key from? I assume if you’d found Moorshavan, you would have told me.”
“I still haven’t heard a peep about where that man might be. I got the key from your cousin, the earl who sold him the house. It dawned on me that he might have one he hadn’t given to Moorshavan so I rode over and asked him about it. He looked around and found it.” Wiley held up the large key.
Garrett clapped Wiley on the shoulder. “I’m glad you thought to ask him about it.”
They entered the vestibule and Garrett looked around. He didn’t recognize it as the front room he’d entered during the first twenty years of his life. It was much more expensively decorated. A large, gold-framed mirror hung on one wall, and a long, colorful tapestry on the other. Heavy velvet draperies covered the windows. Gone was the small, aged painting of Hyde Park and the Serpentine. The small table where he would lay his hat each afternoon had been replaced by a long side table with intricately carved wood. Fancy brass candlesticks had been placed on each end.
Garrett huffed out a low laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were in the wrong house.”
“It doesn’t look much like the house I remember coming to either,” Wiley admitted.
They walked down the corridor, and Garrett stood at the entrance to the drawing room and looked inside. The shape of the room was the same. The fireplace and windows were all in the same places, but like the vestibule, nothing in the room was the same. Not thefurniture or rugs, not the color of the walls, or the things hanging on them. The worn settee, the large comfortable chairs, and simple straight-leg tables had been replaced with gilt-covered wood and fine silk fabrics.
“If we can find Mr. Moorshavan and talk him into selling, and you decide not to tear down a perfectly good house, you will probably want to have the draperies, paintings, and a few other things in the bedchambers changed. The bedcovers and pillows are made from fabrics that have nude scenes on them. Some of the paintings on the walls are quite explicit. There’s artwork sitting around, statues and figurines that, well—there’s no doubt he was running a brothel in this house. Did you want to go abovestairs?”
Garrett shook his head. “I’ll take your word for what it looks like.” He wasn’t a man who let things seep into his soul. He just handled things—as he had with Pratt.
It wasn’t things that made a person happy or successful. It was contentment with what you had. His father never wanted the house. He was content with being his cousin’s guest. Garrett looked over at Wiley and remembered how he smiled when he talked about Miss Osborne. He was content to have her back in London, looking forward to their nuptials. That’s what made people happy. Not what you had but what you felt.
“What are you going to do if you don’t find Mr. Moorshavan?”
“I’ll find him,” Garrett answered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 20
Julia paced around the back garden while Chatwyn played. The rain had stopped, so she decided to let him outside in the wet grass and heavy mist. The duke would never have allowed him to do it—especially with the early autumn air having such a chill. But thankfully the duke wasn’t in London yet. She was making the decisions for what her son could and could not do. It had been rewarding to have him all to herself and not have to share him with the duke.
Chatwyn was a strong, healthy child and had really never been sick a day in his life. She knew if he changed his clothing as soon as they went inside he shouldn’t catch a chill. Not being able to go out for a couple of days had made Chatwyn irritable. He ran and shrieked from one end of the house to the other. Julia was patient—most of the time. Though she was feeling the strain of not hearing from Garrett.
He’d told her the documents were almost ready, yet he still hadn’t brought them over. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with the deeds. She was fearful something had happened. An ink spill to ruin half of them. They may had been stolen, or gotten wet. Maybe the duke was having her watched and he had absconded with the documents. She had imagined all sorts of things that could have happened. She just wanted them in her possession so she’d know for certain nothing had gone wrong.
Julia threw the ball to Chatwyn and he chased it. He threw the ball to her and she chased it. He rode his wooden horse and squealed for her to watch him. They played until they were both out of breath before she sent Chatwyn into the house with Miss Periwinkle to get dry.
She was dragging the wooden horse to the rear of the house when she heard the side gate open. Turning around, she saw Garrett walking toward her, holding the butterfly net in his hands but not the leather packet she so coveted. It was elating to see him but disheartening that she still didn’t have any evidence on the duke.
He walked up to her, took hold of the wooden horse, and placed it next to a bench. Laying the net beside it, he said, “I know you don’t like for me to come to the duke’s house, but I wasn’t expecting to see disappointment on your face when you saw me.”
Julia leaned against the wet house. “There is always a chance the duke will hear of my visitors, but that’s not the reason I’m disappointed. I was expecting something a little more important than the butterfly net.”
He joined her against the siding and crossed his hands over his chest and one foot over the other, seeming more relaxed than she was. “That net is very important to me. Because of it, I met you.”
His words softened her heart a little. “I am happy about that, too,” she admitted. He made her happy, but the fact remained that he was free and she wasn’t.
“I didn’t come just to bring the net.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
He moved a little closer to her. “I also came over to tell you I took the money from the fabric over to Mrs. Feld yesterday.”
“Oh,” she said softly, her hope fading as fast as it had appeared. “How was she?”
