‘… I deal in facts, Lady Annabelle. Not emotion. One dilutes the other to such a degree that the truth is often unrecognisable …’
Perhaps, but in this case, emotion was all Anna had to go on. Emotion and trust. She had to believe in the integrity of her family and all they stood for. For where would she be—indeed, where would any of them be—if she could not?
Anna awoke to the first rays of sunshine slanting in through her bedroom window and realised that she had fallen asleep without ever having heard Peregrine come upstairs. Bother! Now she had no way of knowing what the result of his conversation with her father had been. Nor could she just barge into Peregrine’s room and ask him. He might be her father’s godson, but he was still a young, single male and it would be inappropriate for her to go to his room alone, even under circumstances like these.
With that in mind, Anna quickly rang for her maid and set about getting dressed. Peregrine was normally an early riser, but if she could catch him before he set off, she might have a chance of finding out what she needed to know. Unfortunately, though she hurried her maid through her preparations, it wasn’t timely enough. By the time she reached Peregrine’s room and knocked on the door, there was no answer and she could hear nothing from inside. He must have already gone down for breakfast. Perhaps he’d passed a poor night after the interview with her father.
Given how angry her father had been, Anna knew that to be a definite possibility.
In the breakfast room, however, she was disappointed to find only her brother seated at the long table. Edward looked up at her entrance, his greeting somewhat reserved. ‘Good morning, Anna.’
Anna inclined her head as she made her way to the sideboard. ‘Edward.’ Though only two years separated them in age, they had never enjoyed a close relationship. Edward tended to belittle her efforts at helping others, while she couldn’t understand his cavalier treatment of friends and servants alike. She had once seen him cut a good friend dead when word of the fellow’s marriage to a lady of lesser standing had reached him, saying that anyone who associated with rubbish was like to be tainted by the smell. And when his valet had come down with a fever, Edward had dismissed him, saying he couldn’t abide to be in the same house as a sick man. Her father had offered to reassign the poor man to the stable, but not surprisingly, the valet had chosen to leave.
Now, as Anna helped herself to a slice of ham, a piece of toast and a boiled egg, she was thankful the rest of the staff were in such excellent health. ‘Have you seen Peregrine this morning?’ she asked, sitting down across from her brother.
Edward didn’t look up from his newspaper. ‘No.’
‘What about Papa?’
‘Out.’ He turned the smoothly ironed page. ‘Said he would be back in an hour.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘That was half an hour ago.’
So, her father had already left to meet with Sir Barrington Parker. That meant she had to speak to Peregrine as soon as possible. But where was he? And if he’d gone out, when might he be back? If she could talk to him, find out what had really happened, she might be able to speak to Sir Barrington on his behalf.
Leaving her plate untouched, she got up and headed for the door.
‘What, no breakfast?’ Edward enquired. ‘Cook will be displeased.’
‘I haven’t time. I have to find Peregrine.’
‘He’s probably still in his room,’ Edward said, turning another page. ‘I understand he was drinking quite heavily at the Grundings’ soirée last night.’
Anna stilled. ‘Where did you hear that?’
‘From someone who was there.’ He finally looked up and smiled. ‘It seems our country guest is finding London very much to his liking.’
Pursing her lips, Anna left the room. Edward hadn’t meant the remark kindly. For whatever reason, he’d taken an instant dislike to Peregrine and had taken to making snide comments about his appearance, his manner of dress, even his accent. Anna had taken him to task about it several times, but it hadn’t made any difference. The sniping continued and Edward made no attempt to hide his feelings when Peregrine was around.
Fortunately, Peregrine knew how Edward felt about him, but he refused to make an issue of it, saying it likely stemmed from the difference in their upbringings. Edward had been raised in a nobleman’s house and was heir to an earldom, whereas Peregrine had been raised on a farm with parents who, though comfortable, were neither titled nor gentry.
Still, he was a guest in their home and he deserved better. Anna liked him very much. Despite his obvious lack of sophistication, he was good natured and quick to laugh and didn’t belittle her efforts the way Edward did. He admired her for caring enough about the welfare of others to get involved and he also liked many of the same things she did, so they frequently found themselves laughing together at the various social events they went to.
Edward, on the other hand, was never to be found in the same room as Peregrine. Supremely conscious of his own position in society, he sought the company of those equal to him or blessed with a higher status. If there was a snob in the Durst family, it was definitely her brother.
Reaching Peregrine’s door, Anna raised her hand and knocked. ‘Peregrine?’ When she heard no response, she waited a moment and then tentatively pushed it open.
He wasn’t there. Worse, his bed hadn’t been slept in.
Anna felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Where had he spent the night and where was he now? Equally important, what kind of mood was he in? Peregrine was an uncommonly sensitive man. If her father had falsely accused him of having an affair with Lady Yew, Peregrine might well have left the house angry and embarrassed that his godfather would believe such shameful lies about him. But where could he have gone?
There was only one way to find out. Heading to her bedroom, Anna fetched her bonnet and gloves. Returning to the hall, she rang for Milford and asked to be told where Sir Barrington Parker lived.
‘Lady Annabelle Durst, Sir Barrington,’ Sam said quietly.
Barrington looked up from the deed of land he had been perusing and saw the lady standing in his doorway. She looked like a breath of summer in a gown of pale yellow silk trimmed with deeper yellow ribbons, an elegant wide-brimmed bonnet perched atop her golden hair. Her lips were a soft dusky rose, but her blue eyes appeared unusually bright against the pallor of her skin. She was distraught and, recognising that, he rose at once. ‘Lady Annabelle.’
‘I hope my timing is not inconvenient, Sir Barrington.’
‘Not at all. Pray come in. Bring your maid, if you wish.’
‘No, I would rather speak to you privately.’ Lady Annabelle waved the girl into a chair outside his study. ‘I cannot bear not knowing.’
So, it was curiosity that had compelled her to come. Obviously, she hadn’t spoken to her father yet. Barrington indicated the high-back chair in front of the fireplace. ‘Won’t you sit down?’
She did not. Visibly upset, she began to pace. Barrington understood the compulsion. He had been a pacer once himself. ‘May I ring for tea?’
‘Thank you.’ This time, she did look at him. ‘That would be most welcome.’
He glanced at Sam, who nodded and quietly withdrew.
For a moment Barrington said nothing, more interested in studying her than he was in initiating a conversation. She was as beautiful as ever, but this morning she looked to be drawn as tight as a finely strung bow. He had a feeling that if he pulled too hard, she would snap. ‘What did you wish to ask me, Lady Annabelle?’ he said softly.
Her head turned towards him, her