of thing.’
‘And you agreed.’
‘I thought it the right thing to do.’ The earl swallowed hard, his voice when he spoke gruff. ‘He is my godson, after all.’
Barrington nodded, not sure whether it was grief or regret that shadowed the earl’s voice. ‘Are you aware of the company your godson keeps, Lord Cambermere?’
‘Can’t say that I am. His interests run vastly different to mine. He doesn’t ride, he prefers not to hunt and I don’t believe he’s all that partial to moving in society. As my daughter said, he would rather spend his evenings with a book.’
Or in the marchioness’s bed. ‘Do you know where he is this evening?’ Barrington enquired.
He saw the look that passed between Cambermere and his daughter, but wasn’t surprised when the earl said, ‘No. As I said, I don’t make a study of the boy’s comings and goings.’
‘Yet you said Lady Annabelle usually goes with him to social engagements.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then why is she not with him tonight?’ Barrington asked.
Barrington glanced at Lady Annabelle as he waited for a response. What little he knew of her encouraged him to believe that she would give him an honest answer. But when he saw her colour rise and her golden brows knit together, he suspected she already had. ‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t see!’ Lady Annabelle said quickly. ‘Peregrine didn’t ask me to accompany him because he was going to visit someone with whom he was already acquainted. It wasn’t necessary that I go along.’
‘Were you not surprised that you did not also receive an invitation to the reception?’
‘Not at all. There are often events to which I am invited that other members of my family are not,’ she explained. ‘We may move in the same circles, Sir Barrington, but we do not have all the same friends.’
Barrington knew there was nothing to be gained in challenging the remark. Lady Annabelle was trying to defend Mr Rand—and failing badly in the attempt. ‘Lord Cambermere,’ he said finally, ‘my client has made it clear that he intends to make an example of the man involved with his wife. However, for the sake of you and your family, I would prefer to see this matter settled quietly and with as little scandal as possible. If I could get Lord Yew to agree to it, would Mr Rand be willing to break off his association with Lady Yew and swear that he would never see her again? Perhaps be willing to write a letter to that effect?’
Cambermere nodded. ‘I don’t see why he would not—’
‘But why should he write such a letter, Papa!’ Lady Annabelle demanded. ‘If he has done nothing wrong, surely there is no—!’
‘Enough, Anna! If you cannot keep silent, I will ask you to leave,’ her father said, displaying signs of impatience for the first time that evening. ‘I don’t know if you appreciate how serious a matter this is. In years gone by, Peregrine would have been called out for such an offence. In fact, I’m sure the thought crossed Yew’s mind. He is not a man to be trifled with.’
‘But you are condemning him without trial,’ she persisted. ‘Pronouncing him guilty without even giving him a chance to prove his innocence. All on the strength of this man’s say so!’ she added, her voice suddenly growing cold.
Barrington’s eyes narrowed. So, the fair Lady Annabelle would defend her visitor to the last, blindly ignoring the evidence that he had put forward. Pity. While her loyalty did her credit, all it meant was that the outcome of the situation would be that much more painful for her in the end.
‘If I may suggest,’ he said slowly, ‘I am well aware of how shocking this must sound and agree that Mr Rand must have his hearing and be given a chance to explain. But I do have an appointment with Lord Yew tomorrow afternoon and he will be looking for answers. So I would ask that you speak to Mr Rand as soon as possible and get back to me at the earliest opportunity.’
‘I shall speak to him the moment he returns home this evening,’ the earl said, ‘and send word to you first thing in the morning.’
‘Thank you. You have my card.’ Barrington glanced at Annabelle, but wasn’t surprised that she refused to meet his eyes. ‘I regret, Lady Annabelle, that our introduction should have taken this form. It is not how I wished we might have started out.’
‘Nor I, Sir Barrington.’ She did look at him then and Barrington saw how deeply she was torn. ‘If you knew Peregrine as I do, you would understand why I say that he is incapable of such a deceit.’
‘Sadly, it is not possible for me to be intimately acquainted with everyone I am asked to investigate. Nor would it do me any good to encourage that kind of relationship. I must judge what I see without emotion clouding my vision. I trust the word of those who provide me with information and trust my own skills when it comes to assessing the value of what they’ve told me. I have no reason to doubt the source of this particular piece of information.’
‘Yet who is to say that your source is any more honest than Peregrine?’ she parried. ‘He is as much a stranger to you as your source is to us. Does he even know Mr Rand?’
‘By sight, and that is all that matters,’ Barrington said. ‘I deal in facts, Lady Annabelle. Not emotion. One dilutes the other to such an extent that the truth is often unrecognisable.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I like your truths, Sir Barrington. You presume a great deal without being personally involved.’
‘It is because I am not personally involved that I am able to reach the conclusions I do.’
‘Then I sincerely hope that when we come to you with proof of Peregrine’s innocence, you will offer him as sincere an apology as he deserves,’ she said.
Barrington inclined his head. ‘I will be happy to offer an apology if such is warranted. But if he is guilty, I expect the same courtesy from you. I’m good at what I do, Lady Annabelle—and I haven’t been wrong yet.’
Her chin rose and he saw a flash of defiance in her eyes. ‘There is a first time for everything, Sir Barrington. And in this instance, I will enjoy being the one who points it out to you.’
Barrington stared down at her, aware that while she frustrated him to the point of distraction, she also aroused in him feelings of an entirely different nature. In fact, he was finding it harder and harder to look at her and not imagine how she would feel in his arms. How the softness of her body would fit into the hard angles of his and how sweet the taste of her lips would be.
And that was the problem. While he admired her more than any woman he’d ever met, the fact that he wanted her in his bed was an unforeseen and unwelcome complication.
‘I expect time will provide the answer to that,’ he said, offering her a bow. ‘My lord,’ he said, turning to her father, ‘I look forward to your visit on the morrow.’
‘I will be there, Sir Barrington.’ The earl’s face was set in grim lines. ‘Of that you can be sure.’
In the weighted silence that followed, Anna restlessly began to pace.
‘You don’t like Sir Barrington,’ her father said flatly.
‘It is not so much the man I dislike as his attitude,’ Anna muttered, her eyes on the faded pattern of the carpet. ‘I am as deeply convinced of his error as he is of mine, yet he is intractable.’
‘And you are not?’ her father retorted. When she said nothing, he continued, ‘What of his claim that he has never been wrong?’
‘A man may make whatever claim he likes, but we have only his word that it is the truth. And regardless of what he says, I will not believe Peregrine guilty of this.’ Anna stopped and looked at her father. ‘You know what kind of man he is, Papa. You’ve