The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,83

the carriage to be brought back around and as they waited, he sighed in frustration. As the carriage stopped and Leighton began to climb in, Owen felt a tug on his jacket arm. He pivoted to face the person, on guard for a street beggar or sneaky thief. It was a woman who faced him, and from her apron, he thought she might have followed him from the tavern.

“’Scuse me, did I hear you asking about Rosie?”

Owen exchanged a glance with Leighton, who was now leaning out the carriage door to hear what was being said.

“I did,” Owen said. “Do you know something about her?”

“For a price,” the woman said, holding out a hand with an arch of her brow.

Owen dug into his pocket and drew out another coin. He pressed it into her palm. “Two more if the information seems true.”

She flashed him a grin. “Rosie left over a year ago,” she said. “Went to Bath to shack up with some lover, I heard.”

“Bath,” Leighton repeated. “Who was the lover?”

“Some toff like you,” the barmaid said with a little flutter of a gaze over Leighton. “Looked a bit like you, even. But you all look the same. She called him a funny name. Rash, Razzle?”

Owen jerked his gaze back to Leighton. The earl’s face had lost all color. Owen felt his own doing the same. “Do you know where in Bath?”

“No, but you ought to know she’s back now,” the woman said with a shrug. “Showed back up a month or so ago and came in to say ’ello to old friends. She lives just outside Lambeth now. Near the smithy there on Colford Road. I visited her a few days ago. Her and her lord and master.”

Leighton staggered out of the carriage and nearly deposited himself at her feet. “Wait, you said the man she left London for was with her a few days ago?”

“Aye. Not the babe, though. No explanation for it. Maybe they left ’im with a relative in Bath or some such.”

Owen blinked. “They had a child?”

She nodded. “She talked about ’im when I saw her.”

“Was the lover’s name Erasmus? Ras.”

“That’s it,” the woman said. “Ras. I hardly paid any mind. Handsome fellow. Bit nervous. But tall as you, my lord.” She flitted her hand at Leighton. “Same eyes.”

“Thank you,” Owen said, and pressed three more coins into her palm, rather than the promised two. As she went back into the tavern, he faced Leighton. His heart was throbbing so hard, he almost couldn’t hear over the sound. “My lord—”

“She said my brother was alive,” Leighton said. His tone was blank and his face deathly pale. “Erasmus is alive.”

“He may well be,” Owen said. “Somehow. Or she might be lying or mistaken. Either way, we need to get to Rosie Stanton’s house right now. Because whatever is happening, it cannot be good.”

Chapter 22

The house in Lambeth was nice enough. Small, but bright and well kept. Celeste couldn’t help but wonder who had paid for these accommodations and think of her own desperate hovel in Twiddleport.

As she followed Abigail and Pippa from the carriage, Abigail said something to her driver and he nodded before he eased the carriage off.

“I asked him to give us some privacy for a little while before he returns to watch for us,” Abigail said. “Worst case, we can walk down to the village and find him.”

“We might all need some air after this,” Pippa said softly as she looked up at the house with a shiver. “Are you ready, ladies?”

Celeste stepped forward to lead the way. “As ready as one can be in these situations. Perhaps she’ll turn out to be another friend.”

“Yes,” Abigail said with a sigh as she followed. “Perhaps.”

Her heart throbbing and her hands shaking, Celeste knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence and then movement from within. A woman’s voice calling out, “What did you forget, love?” before she threw open the door.

She was a little younger than Celeste, no older than her mid-twenties. She was a beautiful woman with dark hair and eyes the same color as Abigail’s. In fact, she looked very much like their friend, and judging from the way Abigail stared, she recognized it too.

But it wasn’t Abigail’s reaction that shocked Celeste from her silence. It was Pippa’s. She pushed forward, her eyes wide. “Rachel?”

The woman behind the door gasped and started to slam it, but Pippa wedged herself in. “Stop, what are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“What’s