Chapter 25

Chapter 25

STAY AWAY FROM HER? VINCENT COULDN’T. HE would have liked to have permission to approach Larissa, but with it or without it, he had to see her. But she didn’t return to London so that he could.

George moved back into the London house, had their furnishings fetched and reinstalled, and filled the place with servants again. He’d been quite busy, taking care of normal business that required his attention after such a long absence, as well as visiting all those merchants who had panicked at the first hint that he had deserted England.

The reports that Vincent was receiving were that a lot of groveling was done by the merchants. Not unexpected of a merchant class that depended on the goodwill of their customers. Whether George was forgiving or not was moot and of little interest to Vincent. The people he had following George were reporting basic actions, they weren’t getting close enough to overhear conversations.

The empty town house was a home again by the end of the year, but a home without children; at least Larissa and Thomas hadn’t returned to it yet. Vincent was beginning to worry that Larissa wasn’t going to return at all, and because of him. Not an unfounded worry. George could have sent her word about their meeting and his desire to see her. Her absence in London could well be her response to that. Which was why, when Ascot left London, Vincent was not far behind him.

Portsmouth turned out to be the final destination. Vincent wasn’t surprised. He’d actually had the inns and hotels searched there, being aware that was where the Ascots had lived prior to relocating in London. With no luck, of course. But a little information had been gathered about the Applebees before he knocked on their door the next day, so he knew these were old friends of the Ascots.

He wasn’t denied entry. He might have been. But the Applebees’ butler apparently hadn’t been warned to turn him away. But then the Ascots probably hadn’t expected him to show up in Portsmouth either. He still didn’t hold much hope of actually seeing Larissa, though. She’d be told he was there. It would be her decision and likely a denial. But he got lucky . . .

Larissa stopped halfway down the stairs when she saw Vincent being led to the parlor. The urge was to turn about abruptly. She didn’t want to talk to him again—ever. But it would be cowardly to rush back to her room, and besides, her anger wouldn’t let her do it. She wasn’t numbed by shock this time. Her anger brought her down to the bottom of the stairs, where he had moved to the moment he saw her.