Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(6)

He cuffed the boy on the shoulder. “None of that. You’re much too young to even be looking.”

Madeline rustled across the hall to join them. “Goodness, is this little one truly yours, Griffin?”

“No,” he replied, trying not to growl with irritation. “But if everyone will kindly stop interrupting me, I might be able to find out who he does belong to.”

Madeline was staring at the baby with a surprisingly maternal look on her face. “Well, he seems very sweet.” She gently stroked the now-drowsy baby’s rounded cheek.

“Good, then you can hold him.” Griffin swiftly transferred the baby into her arms. She looked startled, but accepted the burden without protest.

“Now, you were about to say?” he prompted Roger.

“I haven’t a clue who the brat is, Mr. Steele,” the lad said. “Never saw him before a half hour ago. A lady said she’d pay me a ’alf a quid if I delivered him here, and waited to make sure you got him.”

Griffin blinked at the ridiculous sum the boy had been offered. “Did she say why?”

“Nah. Just said I was to deliver the basket straight to you and no one else. She was right certain about that. Said you, and only you.” Roger scratched his dirt-smudged nose, looking thoughtful. “Figured you must be the kid’s dad, she was that insistent.”

“Then she didn’t actually say I was the boy’s father.”

“Come to think of it, no.”

“And how were you to get paid for this little errand? Were you to meet her afterward?” Surely this mystery woman would not be so foolish as to pay a street urchin before he performed his allotted task. If she hadn’t, then Griffin could use the boy to track her down.

Roger gave him a gap-toothed, knowing grin, obviously comprehending exactly what Griffin was thinking. “Sorry, Mr. Steele. The lady already paid me. She walked me right up to your door and said she’d wait outside while I went in.”

After a moment’s surprise, Griffin exploded into action, bolting across the hall and yanking the door open. He ran down the few steps onto Jermyn Street, fairly quiet this early in the day. A few carts lumbered down the street and several plainly dressed persons, probably servants, hurried about their business. Griffin cast a swift glance in both directions, but the only possible lead to the mystery woman was an enclosed black landau that was bowling swiftly down the cobblestones to round the corner only a second later.

Cursing, he strode back into the house. “What did the woman look like? Did she come in a carriage?” he rapped out.

“Don’t know. She wore a veil,” came the clipped answer from Roger.

“And what about the carriage?”

The boy gave a nod. “Aye. She found me in Piccadilly. We rode to the top of the street, and then we got out and walked the rest of the way with the baby.” He looked thoughtful. “Wondered why we just didn’t drive up to your doorstep.”

“I imagine she didn’t want anyone looking out the window and sighting her carriage,” Griffin replied, feeling more frustrated by the moment. Whoever the mystery woman was, she’d taken great care to hide her identity while at the same time making sure the baby was safe.

“Did you notice anything particular about the carriage?” Madeline asked the boy after casting a worried glance at Griffin. “A crest on the side, or unusual markings?”

“It was black.”

Griffin pinched the space between his eyebrows. “Thank you for that trenchant observation. Anything else?”