Page 66 of Counting on a Countess
The cabman’s brows rose, but he nodded in agreement. “Get in, my lord.”
Kit clambered into the cab and prepared himself for a short wait. He drummed his fingers on the seat, tamping down his unease. Following Tamsyn was an impulse. He wasn’t entirely certain what it might yield, but he had to believe it was better trying to discover who she was than simply retreating into habitual self-indulgence. He could argue with his morals later, after he’d purchased the land for the pleasure garden.
His thoughts snapped to the present when Tamsyn emerged from the house with her maid. She glanced up and down the street before a footman helped her into the carriage. With a flick of the reins, the vehicle pulled away from the curb.
“This is your cue,” Kit called up to the driver.
“Right, my lord.” The cabman clicked to the horse and flicked the ribbons. In a moment, they were in pursuit.
Kit watched the passing scenery with an alert eye. Would she be heading to Bond Street? The shops on Oxford Street, or maybe Covent Garden? She had a fortune at her disposal and despite her concern over money, she could buy anything she wanted.
The cab followed the carriage into the City, until they reached Clerkenwell. Jeweler’s shops were abundant here—which made sense now that he thought about it. Tamsyn seemed to own almost no jewelry or adornments. Most likely, if there were any family treasures, her uncle and aunt had control over them.
The carriage came to a stop on a side street. Kit called up to his driver, “Pull over here.”
When the cab halted, Kit jumped out and threw money at the driver. Then he hurried back toward the narrow lane.
He peered around the corner, watching the carriage. A footman got down from the back of the vehicle and opened the door for Tamsyn, who stepped out cautiously. Again, she glanced up and down the street, which seemed a curious thing to do, until he recalled that she was unfamiliar with the City and was most likely acquainting herself with her surroundings.
Her maid descended the carriage and, together, they walked down the street.
Keeping a safe distance back, Kit followed.
Tamsyn paused in front of a jewelry shop, drawn by the display of earbobs arranged in the window. Baubles seldom caught her eye, but these were so brilliant she had to admire them.
“Fine bit of stone to have hanging on one’s ears,” Nessa murmured beside her. “You could get yourself a pair.”
“They’re so frivolous,” Tamsyn answered.
“Can afford to be frivolous now,” her friend pointed out.
“I—” Tamsyn’s words died as she spied a familiar figure in the glass. She didn’t dare turn around to investigate, but then she peered closer at the man’s reflected image and cursed.
“What is it, dove?” Nessa asked.
“My husband,” Tamsyn replied through her teeth. “He’s on the other side of the street. Half-hidden behind a cart. Don’t look,” she warned. Damn—she thought he’d gone to his club.
Nessa’s eyes were round. “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know.” Perhaps it was only a coincidence. He had no known reason to follow her. Unless he suspected her of something. Had he talked to Mr. Stockton, or Liam and Dennis?
“He can’t know where we’re going,” Nessa said urgently.
“He won’t.” Tamsyn wasn’t quite as certain as her words implied. “Stick close to me.”
Feigning casualness, she turned from the window and ambled down the street. The trick was losing Kit without him knowing that she’d done so on purpose. She stopped periodically in front of shops, all the while keeping track of him surreptitiously. He maintained a degree of distance, but was always nearby.
Hellfire, hewasfollowing her.
She walked into one of the jeweler’s shops and contrived interest in the wares before leaving. She did this twice more. At the fourth establishment, a clerk came over to her.
“How may I be of assistance, my lady?” he asked.
“Does this shop have a back door?”
The clerk seemed puzzled by her request, but said, “It does. Straight through the curtains, down the hall, and then there’s a door that opens onto an alley.”
“Thank you.” She held up a twopence. “If anyone asks after me, I was never here.”
