Page 25 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
This house was another potential lead. “Do you remember whereabouts it was?” Anne asked.
“I don’t, but I do recall it was near a kiln,” Nick said, waving a hand in front of his nose.
Johnny perked up beside him. “That’s right—I remember the smell!”
“A kiln?” Anne asked. “You’re sure?”
“Dead sure.” Nick puffed out his scrawny chest. “As a sweep, I consider myself a bit of an expert on chimneys and their smells.”
“You mentioned there was a steady stream of boys,” Anne said. “How old were these boys?”
“Right around Johnny’s age, m’lady.”
“I see. And did this gentleman from the carriage come inside with you?”
“He didn’t. There were three or four men inside who watched us,” Nick added. He screwed up his face in concentration, then shook his head. “That’s about all I can recall.”
Anne thanked the boys and sent them back to Mrs. Briggs with a handkerchief-full of biscuits.
Anne pulled out paper and quill to write everything down before she forgot it. Johnny and Nick had provided several pieces of information—the crest on the carriage door, the kiln, and the lieutenant from the 18th Royal Hussars—which had the potential to be a break in the case. The crest suggested that “his lordship” might indeed be a lord.
She next dashed off a note to Samuel, then rubbed her temple as she considered whether she should write one more letter. You always had to be careful before you started asking questions. You never knew who might be conspiring with a criminal organization. But from what Nick had said, it sounded like the officer who brought him home had genuinely cared what had happened to his fallen soldier’s son and had thought he was placing Nick in a legitimate apprenticeship.
Anne decided the risk was worth it. She pulled out a fresh sheet of foolscap and dashed off a note to Horse Guards, asking if they had any record of an officer of the 18th Royal Hussars who had returned home about four years ago after losing a leg.
She sealed the letter, placed it on her stack of outgoing correspondence, and said a silent prayer that this lieutenant could be found.
Chapter 8
The following afternoon, Anne found herself pacing the length of her front parlor while she waited for Michael.
She glanced out the window just as a handsome black phaeton picked out in yellow pulled up to the curb. Anne grabbed her basket and was striding out the door before a groom had even arrived to hold Michael’s horses.
But then she was brought up short.
She had thought Michael had looked unbearably handsome at the Falmouth ball, even if he was wearing last season’s jacket and buckskin trousers.
But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of all that masculine perfection displayed for her viewing pleasure in a coat of impeccable dark blue superfine that fit his shoulders like a second skin.
And then it got a thousand times worse.
Because then he smiled at her.
That smile… did things to her. To her insides, to be specific. Take her heart, for instance: it was hammering in her chest as if she’d been running. There was a fluttery feeling in her stomach, as if a family of finches had taken up residence. And lower than that, between her legs, she was feeling…
Warm.
She suddenly became aware that she was gaping at him. That her feet had come staggering to a halt in the middle of her front steps, and her cheeks were warm, and… Oh gracious, was her mouth hanging open? Her mouth was hanging open, wasn’t it?
She managed to close her mouth. A groom finally appeared and, as Michael climbed down, Anne ascertained that the view from behind was every bit as impressive as the view from the front.
She closed her mouth. Again.
“Michael!” she sputtered as he jogged up the stairs. He stopped one step below the level on which she stood and was still a good two inches taller than she was. As a woman who was taller than most men, she was unused to feeling delicate. Feminine. He took her hand in both of his and raised it to his lips.
“Is everything all right, Anne?”
Oh dear, he had noticed! That is, of course he had noticed, how could he not notice that she’d been staring at him with her mouth hanging open? She shook her head and laughed. “Of course. I was just noticing—is that a new jacket?”
