Page 40 of Gone With the Rogue
Chapter 13
“The clientele who frequented the Holcott-Fortney Inn were as prestigious as those who visited the Prince’s homes. Its stately stone and Corinthian column front as well as the grandeur of the Rococo décor inside were noted with superb detail all over England. It was considered the place to overnight or stay for months, if necessary, when in London. Dignitaries from all over the world had been welcomed beneath the roof for over fifty years.
Suites in the expensively ornamented inn weren’t spacious but Garrett had never found lodgings that were. It had never mattered. He never looked at where he was staying the night as home. Until now.
Julia had him thinking about dinner around a dining table, a game of chess in front of the fire, and waking up in the mornings beside a woman—a lady he cared for.
Garrett bypassed the dining area and walked into the card room. Wiley rose from the table where he was seated near an unlit fireplace. The room smelled of food, oil lamps, and freshly poured ale.
“It’s about time you showed up,” he offered with his usual good-natured smile.
“I’m lucky to have made it at all. I received word there was a problem with one of my ships in Southampton. Three of the men had come down with a fever. The captain was worried it might be something serious and infect the entire crew. I rode over there to check on them. Thankfully they were already getting better by the time I arrived, so I didn’t stay long.”
Wiley leaned back in his chair. “But you’re sure they don’t have anything contagious, right?”
“Claret,” Garrett said to the attendant who appeared at his side, and then looked back to Wiley. “I’m sure they do, but it’s not something that’s going to kill anyone. And don’t worry. I never boarded the ship.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.”
Garrett chuckled. “Tell me about Moorshavan—did you find out any more about him?”
“I found out it’s as if the man never existed. I checked the legal records and the house is registered to Mr. Moorshavan but he must have hightailed it back to Boston—where he said he was from, because no one in London has seen or heard from him since someone from the Lord Mayor’s office paid him a visit. I’m still waiting to hear from some of the men I talked to but I don’t know of any way to find Mr. Moorshavan other than hire someone to sail to Boston and look for him there.”
And that’s exactly what Garrett would do if it turned out the duke didn’t own the property. He intended to buy that house and tear it down because of what it represented to him—a life of never owning anything, never working for what you wanted, and always being beholden to family for every penny of your existence. He was going to build his new house there where he would live as a gentleman and a tradesman.
Garrett took a sip from the wine the attendant put in front of him. “Tell me about Miss Osborne. Has she arrived?”
Wiley looked down at his glass for a moment. “Not yet, but I’m hopeful it will be soon.” He huffed. “Imagine me waiting around for a lady to arrive and hoping the days will pass quickly until she does. Did you ever think you’d see the day?”
“I can’t say I did.” But Garrett knew exactly how his friend felt. He was anxious to see Julia. “Do you have a shilling in your pocket?”
Wiley shrugged. “A few.”
“I only want one.”
Wiley dug into his coat pocket for the coin and laid it on the table in front of Garrett.
Garrett placed a small box on the table and slid it toward Wiley. “It’s for you to give to your bride. It came from Africa. It’s made from ebony, their finest wood, and inlaid with gold and ivory. You told me if you ever married I’d have to pick out a gift for you from another country to give to your bride.”
“I remember but I didn’t expect you to.” Wiley picked up the box and examined it. “This is extraordinary workmanship and there’s no small amount of gold on this. It’s worth more than a shilling.”
“Its only worth will be in how much Miss Osborne treasures it.”
“Mr. Stockton,” an attendant said. “I have a note for you that’s just arrived.”
Garrett thanked the man, took the note and opened it. Julia wanted to see him. He looked around to the clock that stood in a corner. He had just enough time to go by and see Mr. Urswick before meeting Julia.
“Wiley, I’m going to have to cut short our meeting.”
“More problems with your ship?”
“No,” he said rising. “I need to call on Lady Kitson.”
“So you’ve gotten to know her,” Wiley said with a quirk of a smile.
“Quite well and I’m hoping to get to know her even better.”
After a frustrating visit with Mr. Urswick, Garrett found himself in the drawing room at the duke’s house. His manager had been diligent in going over the lettering and numbering in the book, and while Urswick was a genius when it came to adding long columns of numbers in his head, he wasn’t good at figuring out coded writing. He’d told the man to go home and rest. They would start fresh in the morning.
