The Valet Who Loved Me - Valerie Bowman Page 0,80

ourselves. We know the signs. You’ve said her name no fewer than one hundred times.”

“I have not!” Beau replied, tugging at his cravat. “And if I did, it was merely because she was an integral part of the story.”

Kendall blinked calmly at Beau. “Do you want to argue with us, or do you want our help finding her?

Beau immediately sat up straight and leaned forward. “You know where she is?”

“I know where she might be,” Kendall replied, “and the fact that you just asked that with such interest proves our point. Stop pretending.”

Beau grouchily settled back into his chair without saying anything.

Worth’s brows shot up. “You, at a loss for words, Bell? I never thought I’d see the day.

“Shut up,” Beau shot back.

“Eloquent. Simply eloquent,” Kendall replied with a laugh.

“Will you please admit that you’re madly in love with her?” Worth said, his tone wheedling. “For me?”

“Damn you both,” Beau ground out. “Fine. Unlike the two of you were, I’m willing to admit it. I love her. I’ve always loved her. I want to marry her, and I don’t give a toss that she’s a lady’s maid. Are you two prepared for the scandal that will consume us all when I marry a servant?”

“See,” Worth said, casually reclining in his chair once more. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“That was a beautiful speech,” Kendall replied.

“If you have something useful to say, please say it; otherwise, do shut up,” Beau replied, his fists clenched atop the arms of the leather chair. At the moment he was ready to sock both men in the jaw and leave.

“Well, I do have something useful to say as a matter of fact. Courtesy of our friend, Clayton,” Kendall offered.

Beau’s head snapped up to face the earl. “What?”

Kendall leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his chest again. “Turns out Clayton has learned some very interesting things in Parliament of late. Including the fact that one Captain David Ellsworth is not actually merely a captain.”

Beau frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”

“He’s the son of the Earl of Elmwood,” Kendall continued.

The news hit Beau like a physical blow to the chest. He fell back into his chair and expelled a deep breath. “I thought that title had no heir.”

“It didn’t have,” Kendall replied. “The late earl’s only son renounced his title and left London many years ago. That man was David’s father.”

“David’s father?” Beau echoed.

“Yes,” Kendall continued. “It turns out David Ellsworth is the eldest grandson of the last Earl of Elmwood.”

“My. My. My,” Worth said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “By my calculations, if David Ellsworth is an earl, that would make Marianne…a lady, wouldn’t it?”

“Precisely,” Kendall replied dryly.

Beau closed his eyes briefly, letting the import of the news slowly wash over him. “Where is she?” he finally asked.

His friends exchanged a knowing glance.

“Elmwood is staying at Clayton’s town house at the moment. Poor man had no clue he was an earl. Clayton’s agreed to sponsor him. But I have it on good authority that Marianne is staying elsewhere,” Kendall said.

“What? Why?” Beau frowned.

“It was her choice,” Kendall continued.

“Where is she?” Beau repeated, leaping to his feet.

“I’m afraid I don’t know that,” Kendall replied.

Bell slammed a palm atop the desk. “Damn it, Kendall. How am I supposed to find her then?”

Worth’s crack of laughter filled the study. “You’re a spy, Bell. You figure it out.”

Chapter Forty

“Marianne, dear, I’ve just come from the foyer and you have two visitors,” Lady Courtney said as she entered the rose salon in her London town house.

“Visitors?” Marianne frowned. Who other than Lady Courtney and David even knew that she was staying here?

Everything had happened so quickly since they’d come back from France. First, General Grimaldi had informed them that David was an earl. Apparently, after his capture, and Marianne’s stint as a spy, the Home Office had done some research on their family. Grimaldi himself had learned of the connection after tracing their last name back to the estate of the Earl of Elmwood.

Marianne still couldn’t quite believe that her father, who had been so loving, kind, and humble had been born the only son of an earl.

Apparently, Papa had fallen in love with her mother, who was a commoner, when he’d been stationed in Brighton many years ago. When he informed his father of his intent to marry a woman so far beneath him, his father the earl had threatened to disown him. Rather than make Papa fall in line, that had only angered

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