Prelude to Heaven Read Online Free Page B

not. Traditionally, the Aubry men had always hunted, drank, and gambled, sometimes to excess, and would no more have opened a book by the fireside than Martin would have gone fishing. The present Lord Aubry was no exception. Martin knew all the books had been acquired simply to furnish a “gentleman's library,” and he doubted they had ever been opened.
    Martin crossed the long room to wait beside one of the brown leather chairs opposite the earl’s desk, knowing that he would not wait long.
    Within moments, the library doors opened and Martin turned to watch the tall and lean Earl of Aubry stride toward him. Even Martin, whose knowledge of society gossip was sadly lacking, knew that Nigel Ridgeway was purported to be one of the handsomest men in England. Even he had heard that women were found the earl extraordinarily handsome and that his wife was the object of both admiration and envy by many other women in the ton .
    As Lord Aubry drew closer, Martin continued to view him surreptitiously behind his spectacles. The earl was, indeed, a magnificent-looking man, with his blond hair, handsome chiseled face, and strong, lean body. The solicitor glanced down at his own portly shape and gave an inaudible sigh, thinking of his thinning hair and double chin. But he felt no envy toward the other man. He sensed a dangerous side to the earl, a subtle cruelty, and knew he would not trade places with Lord Aubry, even had he the power to do so. He felt a sudden twinge of pity for Lady Aubry.
    “Sit.”
    The peremptory voice of the earl slashed into his thoughts, and Martin gave a start. Aubry was seated, and when he made an impatient gesture, indicating one of the chairs opposite, Martin hastily sat down as well, settling his leather case on his lap.
    “Have you found her?”
    Martin once again felt a tremor of uneasiness run through his body as he began his carefully rehearsed reply. “These things take time, Lord Aubry. It is very difficult—”
    “You haven't found her,” the earl concluded for him. He leaned forward, placing clasped hands on the polished desk top. “Did I not make my wishes clear to you, Trevalyn, three months ago?”
    The question was voiced in a quiet, even tone, but Martin felt his insides twist with apprehension. He rushed into speech. “We have made progress, sir. Bow Street runners have discovered that Lady Aubry pawned the emeralds at a jeweler on Bond Street. The jeweler identified her miniature and described the clothes she was wearing as those taken from your wardrobe. He thought, of course, that she was a lad.”
    “The fool,” Aubry muttered. He looked up and his pale blue eyes gave the solicitor a piercing stare. “I trust the family emeralds were recovered?”
    Martin opened the case on his lap and removed the velvet-lined boxes containing the emerald necklace, tiara, and earrings. He opened them and placed them carefully on the desk for the earl’s inspection, relieved that he had accomplished at least one of the tasks assigned to him.
    “I take it,” the earl continued after a thorough inspection of the emeralds, “that the jeweler is now doing something more suited to his capabilities. Cleaning stables, perhaps?”
    “Something akin to that,” Martin answered, meeting Aubry's eyes with difficulty. He had done what he'd known the earl would want him to do, but it had left a bad taste in his mouth.
    “Surely you have more to tell me, Trevalyn?”
    “Yes, my lord.” Martin pulled his notes from the case and gave them a quick glance, then went on, “We have ascertained that a 'young man' answering to the description of Lady Aubry boarded the night ferry from Dover across the channel, on the evening of March 17, and landed at Calais the following morning.”
    “She's in France?” Aubry’s voice was even, with no inflection of emotion, yet Martin could sense anger and frustration beneath the earl’s surface calm, for he had seen both emotions before and on more than one occasion.