Bedding The Baron by Alexandra Ivy Page B

woman so beautiful, so extraordinarily talented, that she would make any man proud to call her his own.
    No wonder Portia regarded men as treacherous beasts who were doomed to disappoint her.
    “This Melford sounds like a genuine rotter,” he muttered, hoping that the man had managed to offend one of the natives once he reached India. Being roasted over an open pit was appropriate punishment for the louse.
    His father grimaced. “From what I recall of Melford he was always a weak and self-centered dolt. It is hardly surprising that he would think only of himself when it came time to pay the piper.”
    “So Mrs. Walker was forced to wed to survive,” Fredrick said softly.
    “I suppose she was.”
    Fredrick forced himself to polish off the last of his lobster curry. Mrs. Shaw had gone to a great deal of effort to prepare his favorite dishes. He did not take such acts of kindness for granted. They were far too rare in his world.
    “What do you know of Mr. Walker?” he at last demanded.
    His father regarded him with a narrowed gaze. “Nothing more than that he was considerably older than his bride.” He paused, as if choosing his words with care. “Is there a particular reason for your interest in Mrs. Walker?”
    Fredrick smiled as he reached to refill his wine glass. “I am always interested in the unusual and the unique.” The image of vivid blue eyes set in a perfect oval of a face burned through his mind, his body hardening with anticipation. “And Mrs. Walker is most certainly unique.”

Chapter Six
    Fredrick left Oak Manor in a mood he could only describe as bemused.
    Good God, he had spent nearly two hours in his father’s company. And they had actually spoken to one another. In full sentences rather than stilted grunts and mutters.
    Fredrick did not know whether it was a miracle, or if the sky was about to fall, but as he traveled back toward the Queen’s Arms he discovered that the smothering resentment he always endured after being in the presence of his father was not nearly as overwhelming as usual.
    The question was why?
    Why had his father invited him to luncheon and then actually treated him as a welcomed guest? Why had he known so much of his bastard son’s business?
    Could it be that he actually regretted their estrangement over the past ten years? Could he have followed his career from afar, regretting that he never bothered to so much as pat his own son on the back?
    Fredrick gave a sharp shake of his head. Who could say what might be going through the mind of Lord Graystone? Or why he had decided to behave in such an odd manner?
    Come tomorrow he more than likely would return to the cold, remote man of Fredrick’s past.
    And besides, he had not come to Oak Manor with the futile hope of forging a relationship with the man who had fathered him. He was here to discover the reason Lord Graystone had ever been willing to hand over twenty thousand pounds to Dunnington.
    Turning his thoughts back to his father’s confession that he had been forced to leave his home, Fredrick pondered the best means of discovering the reason for the family feud.
    The current servants would clearly have no knowledge. Not if they had all been hired after his father had inherited the title. But surely there must be someone who knew the family history still rattling about.
    The question was how to discover their whereabouts, and then question them without causing undue curiosity.
    A delicate task that would require some thought. He would not risk floundering around and calling undue attention to himself.
    Pulling his notebook from his jacket, he managed to jot down his various options without ending up in a ditch or becoming lost. At last reaching the inn, Fredrick tucked away his notebook and entered the yard.
    He frowned at the thick mud that remained despite the pale sunlight. Mrs. Portia Walker might have many skills, but comprehending proper drainage was not one of them.
    Heading directly to the stables, Fredrick