giant worms.’ He liked calling them that, around Jane, rather than using their scientific name. It made them more ‘user friendly’.
‘Didn’t you say you were not sure what Mulgrave wrote in his personal journals? What if he mentioned you? Such an anomaly would need to be checked out.’
Rene sat up straighter as he considered the possibility. Yes, those journals might contain information on him that could be contentious. If he read them, at least he could be sure. His heart lifted with the first real hope he’d experienced in months. The idea of seeing Livianna again filled him with such painful joy it threatened to overwhelm him.
‘You’ll go?’ she asked, as she watched him processing the possibilities.
‘Yes, I will go. You never know, she might be a fishwife, and I have pined over her death all this time for nothing.’
Scrambling to his feet, he offered Jane his hand to draw her up. When they were standing, Jane wrapped her arms around him, her head resting against his neck. She was a tall woman, but he was a tall man, like her Julio, so he was still more than half a head taller. Livianna was tall for her generation too, but would barely reach his shoulder. What would it be like to hold her against his chest?
Maybe now he would have the opportunity to find out.
1 July 1810, Foxmoor Manor, Yorkshire ENGLAND
‘There’s a coach in the drive!’ Portia announced breathlessly, scampering into the library just as the sun climbed to its zenith. Liv looked up from the book she was reading with a frown.
‘Are we expecting visitors?’ she asked.
‘No, not while our aunt is away. Well, except for the mysterious Frenchman.’ Portia grinned impishly.
Liv felt her heart miss a beat. She had told him July, but it was only the first day of July. Surely he wouldn’t be that socially inept as to call so early in the month. But even as she condemned him for rashness, if it did prove to be him, she was also thrilled that he would be in such a hurry to visit.
If it was him.
‘It is probably old Miss Chambers from the village. Word has it that she has recovered from the ague and is now visiting again.’
Portia groaned loudly and indelicately. ‘Please, no. I do not wish anyone harm, but that bout of ague was a blessing in disguise. It quite saved my sanity. That woman will talk me into an early grave.’
Liv stood up and gave a little laugh, as she put her dusty tome back onto the reading table. ‘Poor Portia! Unless your Harry gets a rectory away from Harrogate, you will have to see far more of Miss Chambers, and all the other spinster ladies like myself, as a regular part of your role as rector’s wife.’
Portia shuddered dramatically. ‘If I run away on my wedding day, I shall blame you when Harry asks me why. He will then rain Almighty Retribution on you for your interference.’
At that moment, a head appeared around the open door. It was the second footman, young George. He smiled at them. Then, thinking better of it, he adopted a more sombre demeanour. He was still in training, and as a child who had grown up on the Manor, he treated it and its denizens as home and family. The sisters didn’t mind his informal ways, but the staff were hard on him for his liberties.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Misses Livy and Portia, but there’s a gentleman at the door who says he’s been invited to see your grandda’s books.’ He handed over the calling card with Rene L’Angley’s name and London residence on it.
Liv felt her heart kick up a beat. So he had come early. Portia would be delighted by this exhibition of untimely haste.
‘Show Lord L’Angley into the morning room, George. We will be there directly. Then go and announce his arrival to father. He will want to formally greet our visitor.’
‘Yes ’m!’ And, like a shot, George was off back to the front door, his sombre demeanour forgotten.
‘I have been beside myself with impatience to meet this young man. If he is as handsome, rich and mysterious as you and Augusta say, then I might throw over Harry, and marry him myself.’
Liv felt an uncharacteristic flash of jealousy. What if Rene did find her younger, prettier sister more to his taste? He would be a far better catch than Harry.
‘Oh Livy, don’t be a goose. He will have eyes only for you. Even