Read Online Delight and Desire by JOANNA MAITLAND - Free Book Online
Authors: JOANNA MAITLAND
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a small pistol and pointed it at Robert’s heart. ‘Stand aside. I will look for myself.’
Robert sighed theatrically. ‘If that is Sir Hugh’s man standing on the step, Grant, pray bring him into the hall. And close the door. I prefer not to have my business trumpeted to all the street. Especially when an innocent lady’s reputation is at stake.’
Sir Hugh was shaking with fury. His pistol was far from steady.
Robert faced him squarely. ‘Your accusation is extremely serious, sir. It goes to my honour as well as that of your niece. Perhaps you would now withdraw it?’
‘Isobel is gone from my house,’ Sir Hugh barked. ‘My man informs me that she is with you.’
‘Ah. Now I understand your agitation. However, you are wrong.’ Sir Hugh did not move or speak. ‘Sir, I must ask you to take care what you do,’ Robert continued blandly. ‘Shooting an unarmed man is murder, you know. Even an Anstruther.’
The pistol was lowered a little. The shaking had stopped. Sir Hugh seemed to be recovering his self-control. ‘Major Anstruther, will you look me in the eye and swear, on your honour as an officer and a gentleman, that Isobel Ritchie is not here in your house?’
Robert replied without even a blink. ‘I will do better than that, Sir Hugh.’ He stood aside and gestured towards the open door. ‘In deference to your years, and to your understandable concern for the reputation of your niece, I will permit you to search my rooms. Pray, go through. Search wherever you wish. There are not many potential hiding places, but I do recommend you look under the bed.’
Sir Hugh seemed taken aback for a second, but then he pocketed his pistol and marched into Robert’s sitting room. Bookcases, tables and chairs, a sofa and a desk. There was no possible hiding place. He pulled back the long heavy curtains. The window recess was empty.
Robert followed him into the bedchamber and threw open all the doors to cupboards and presses. Nothing. He threw back the window curtains. Again nothing. He watched with some satisfaction as the older man knelt to look under the bed. Nothing. Of course.
Sir Hugh stood up a little shakily. He eyed the bed in silence, assessing the bumps and hollows. It did not look like a scene of passionate love-making. Robert was confident of that.
‘Anstruther, I—’
‘You will wish to check the other rooms, too. Grant!’ His batman appeared instantly. ‘Sir Hugh has seen this room and my sitting room. Take him through to the other rooms and make sure he sees everything. I would have no suspicion remaining that I am concealing Miss Ritchie.’
With drooping shoulders, Sir Hugh followed the batman out. Robert grabbed his discarded shirt and breeches from the floor and dressed with the speed of a soldier called to face the enemy.
By the time Sir Hugh returned to the sitting room, his high colour was gone. His skin was grey. ‘It seems I was wrong. She is not here.’ He was avoiding Robert’s eye.
‘Sir, I am glad you are now satisfied. Believe me, I do understand your concern. Your niece is young and vulnerable. She should not be out alone in London. Perhaps she has gone to stay with a female friend?’
‘Yes, it is possible, I suppose. I can only hope you are right, Major. I…I ask you to excuse me for having forced my way in here. I had information that—’
Robert stopped him with a wave of his hand. If Sir Hugh made Robert a grovelling apology, it would lead to even more bad blood once the truth was known. ‘Let us forget this ever happened, sir. I am sure you will be wishing to return home quickly, in case there is more reliable news of where Miss Ritchie may have gone. I pray there will be.’ He ushered Sir Hugh into the hallway and then out of the house. The bruiser, who had neither moved nor spoken, followed his master out.
Robert closed the door with slightly shaky hands and leant against it, letting out a long breath. His Isobel. He had saved her. But for how
Robert sighed theatrically. ‘If that is Sir Hugh’s man standing on the step, Grant, pray bring him into the hall. And close the door. I prefer not to have my business trumpeted to all the street. Especially when an innocent lady’s reputation is at stake.’
Sir Hugh was shaking with fury. His pistol was far from steady.
Robert faced him squarely. ‘Your accusation is extremely serious, sir. It goes to my honour as well as that of your niece. Perhaps you would now withdraw it?’
‘Isobel is gone from my house,’ Sir Hugh barked. ‘My man informs me that she is with you.’
‘Ah. Now I understand your agitation. However, you are wrong.’ Sir Hugh did not move or speak. ‘Sir, I must ask you to take care what you do,’ Robert continued blandly. ‘Shooting an unarmed man is murder, you know. Even an Anstruther.’
The pistol was lowered a little. The shaking had stopped. Sir Hugh seemed to be recovering his self-control. ‘Major Anstruther, will you look me in the eye and swear, on your honour as an officer and a gentleman, that Isobel Ritchie is not here in your house?’
Robert replied without even a blink. ‘I will do better than that, Sir Hugh.’ He stood aside and gestured towards the open door. ‘In deference to your years, and to your understandable concern for the reputation of your niece, I will permit you to search my rooms. Pray, go through. Search wherever you wish. There are not many potential hiding places, but I do recommend you look under the bed.’
Sir Hugh seemed taken aback for a second, but then he pocketed his pistol and marched into Robert’s sitting room. Bookcases, tables and chairs, a sofa and a desk. There was no possible hiding place. He pulled back the long heavy curtains. The window recess was empty.
Robert followed him into the bedchamber and threw open all the doors to cupboards and presses. Nothing. He threw back the window curtains. Again nothing. He watched with some satisfaction as the older man knelt to look under the bed. Nothing. Of course.
Sir Hugh stood up a little shakily. He eyed the bed in silence, assessing the bumps and hollows. It did not look like a scene of passionate love-making. Robert was confident of that.
‘Anstruther, I—’
‘You will wish to check the other rooms, too. Grant!’ His batman appeared instantly. ‘Sir Hugh has seen this room and my sitting room. Take him through to the other rooms and make sure he sees everything. I would have no suspicion remaining that I am concealing Miss Ritchie.’
With drooping shoulders, Sir Hugh followed the batman out. Robert grabbed his discarded shirt and breeches from the floor and dressed with the speed of a soldier called to face the enemy.
By the time Sir Hugh returned to the sitting room, his high colour was gone. His skin was grey. ‘It seems I was wrong. She is not here.’ He was avoiding Robert’s eye.
‘Sir, I am glad you are now satisfied. Believe me, I do understand your concern. Your niece is young and vulnerable. She should not be out alone in London. Perhaps she has gone to stay with a female friend?’
‘Yes, it is possible, I suppose. I can only hope you are right, Major. I…I ask you to excuse me for having forced my way in here. I had information that—’
Robert stopped him with a wave of his hand. If Sir Hugh made Robert a grovelling apology, it would lead to even more bad blood once the truth was known. ‘Let us forget this ever happened, sir. I am sure you will be wishing to return home quickly, in case there is more reliable news of where Miss Ritchie may have gone. I pray there will be.’ He ushered Sir Hugh into the hallway and then out of the house. The bruiser, who had neither moved nor spoken, followed his master out.
Robert closed the door with slightly shaky hands and leant against it, letting out a long breath. His Isobel. He had saved her. But for how
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