What the Groom Wants Read Free

those last two words. Knopp was watching him closely—as were the sailors on watch—so he kept his expression as calm as he could. “I’ll need their direction, if you wouldn’t mind, sir.”
    “Oh right.” His employer fished around in a pocket until he produced a linen card, somewhat the worse for wear. “I promised to send them word when you arrived, but I suppose you could stop by all on your own.” The man narrowed his eye. “You’ll want to find out from the clerks what’s what before you meet with the legal men. I don’t need to tell you that I don’t like my employees in ugly with the law.”
    Radley frowned. Disquiet grew in his belly. “Did it seem that there was trouble?”
    “No, else I would have told you sooner. But those types are nothing but trouble, if you ask me. Probably some lord wanting something.” Again, he eyed Radley with a hard stare. “Could be about a woman,” Knopp said, obviously fishing.
    Radley shook his head. “No woman, sir. Not that would have a solicitor.” Unless it had something to do with his sister. She was housekeeper to a Scottish lord.
    Mr. Knopp studied his face for a moment longer, then shrugged. “Best find out what you can, soon as you can. Those types don’t relish waiting on the likes of us.”
    “Yes, sir. Right after I visit my mother.”
    That was it. A short conversation that was more an attempt to find out information. But Radley was as much in the dark as Mr. Knopp, so he set it aside in his thoughts. He was finally free to do as he willed, and that would not be chasing after some high-in-the-instep solicitor.
    By the time he finally made it to land, the afternoon was far advanced. If he saw his mother or sister first, it would be too late for afternoon callers. The idea was ridiculous. After all, Wendy would be at work now as head seamstress for A Lady’s Favor dress shop, which she co-owned. She cared nothing for proper visiting hours. But it was one of the ways he could show her respect. A true gentleman followed the rules of proper courtship, and in this way he showed that he valued her as a lady.
    Which meant that he had precious few minutes to get to the lodgings she shared with her mother. He would pay a quick call, do the pretty with her mama, while arranging a better time to visit—one where he could see Wendy—and then be off to his own mama.
    He walked briskly, knowing the route by heart. She’d moved after the fire, but not out of the neighborhood. He had grown up in London and knew the byways from the dock to this quarter better than anyone.
    He mounted the steps to their rooms two at a time. He hadn’t slept above a few hours in the last three nights, but the weariness was fading fast as he neared his destination. He’d just knocked once when he heard it: a woman’s sobs, deep and gut-wrenching.
    He frowned, wondering for a moment whether to proceed when a small voice spoke from behind him.
    “A sad tale there,” said a young girl of about eight. He didn’t remember her name, but he knew the type. She would know all the neighborhood gossip and would share it for a price. A small price now—as she was young—but in a few years, she could turn bad if someone didn’t take a strong hand in her rearing. “And look at you, just back from the sea. Have you seen your mama yet?”
    Did he know her? He hadn’t a clue, but obviously she knew him.
    “What happened here?” he asked. She got a canny look in her eye, but didn’t have time to capitalize on his question. The door was wrenched open by Wendy’s mother—her face streaked with tears and her hair a mess.
    “Henry! The most terrible thing has happened!”
    He shook his head, apologizing even as she recognized him. “Not Henry, Mrs. Drew. I’m sorry—”
    “Radley! My goodness, look at you!” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “You haven’t seen Henry today have you?” she said with a slight hiccup of a sob.
    “We’re on different ships. He came in with The