A Love Laid Bare Read Free

was deeply involved in the government. Well, he owed
him too much to refuse and the timing was right. It gave him an
excuse to avoid Victoria, it resolved the problem of his mother,
who had been badgering him to visit, and it took him away before
the shipment of books arrived from Clifftop. He wanted to be free
of Frances and any reminders of her.
    Halcombe laughed shortly. He would never be free of
Frances. Not while he still pictured her curled up in his library
chair engrossed in some book, or striding across his fields in that
ridiculous sunbonnet, a dog or two trotting beside her . He
had been too much the fool to know what he had had until it was
gone. If he ever did remarry—and it would not be to
Victoria—he would take care to cherish any affection that might be
offered.
    He tore the letter into pieces, tossed them onto the
cold hearth, and set them ablaze with a spark from his flint. You are getting as paranoid as Colin. He scowled, stirred
the ashes with the heel of his boot, and went to make arrangements
for the journey.

Chapter Four
     
     
    London was dirtier, noisier, and more crowded than
usual, or so it seemed to Halcombe as he guided his team along the
busy streets. It was a relief to reach his mother’s house. His house, more accurately, as it was part of the estate,
although he seldom came to Town these days. He preferred country
life—and avoiding his mother as much as possible. She was only
happy here in the city, immersed in the endless social round, and
if it kept her here, she was welcome to the house. He wished he had
packed her off to Town when he’d brought his bride home.
Leticia—never anything as uncouth as Letty—had strongly disapproved
of Frances and had gone out of her way to make her daughter-in-law
feel unwelcome.
    The earl turned his rig over to the groom, mounted
the steps, and knocked on the door. It was not worth the scold that
would ensue if he let himself in and that starched-up butler of
hers would be sure to tell her. But a footman opened the door, not
Mason, and Halcombe cocked his head in question.
    “Lady Halcombe has guests, my lord.” The soft-spoken
servant took his hat, gloves and cape and stepped back. “They are
in the drawing room, if you care to join them.”
    “No, I am going out directly after I change. Peters,
isn’t it?” Halcombe’s voice was equally low. At the man’s nod, he
went on, “Send someone up with some hot water and arrange for a
hackney to pick me up in a half hour. Oh, and Peters, I won’t be in
for dinner. Have Mason inform Lady Halcombe I will see her in the
morning.” He walked to the stairs. Now to get in and out before
the fact of his arrival traveled through the house and reached his
mother. Craven it may be, but he had no desire to socialize
with a room full of women whose sole source of entertainment
appeared to be gossip.
     
    ***
     
    Halcombe had the cab driver set him down a few blocks
from his destination and he walked swiftly along the sidewalk. The
high, iron gate that lead into the small garden of Summerton’s
house was unlocked. He went through and around to a side door and
knocked. The door opened almost immediately. A plainly dressed,
unobtrusive man gestured for him to enter, bowed gravely, and
turned around without saying a word. Halcombe followed his escort
through a narrow corridor and up the servants’ stairs. Summerton’s
was a bachelor establishment—the staff was small, well trained and
discreet. He was surprised to see his host seated at his desk, a
glass of wine at his elbow. Colin’s schedule was frequently
uncertain and Halcombe had been prepared to wait.
    “You are earlier than I’d expected.” The viscount
stood, walked across the room and greeted Halcombe with a handshake
and hearty clap on the shoulder. “I appreciate you coming so
quickly. You appear quite fit.”
    Halcombe gripped his hand and punched him lightly on
the arm. “You, my friend, look as if you have had too many