A Clandestine Courtship (27 page)

But even that wasn’t enough. He had no idea how obsessed the killer was or what he had planned. His actions had been inconsistent. Frederick had been knocked senseless and pushed over a cliff. But John had been bound, tortured, then stabbed repeatedly. Was such rage directed personally at John, or had it built up after six months of brooding over the killer’s grievance?

More importantly, how angry was he now? So far, the attempts had been more like Frederick, but each failure would have increased his frustration. Would he explode into another murderous frenzy? One well-placed rock would leave him at the man’s mercy. So he must take Harry and Edwin along.

Thus he needed hiding places for three men. He hadn’t been inside the building for more than twenty years – and it could have changed drastically since Tate’s death. If the grinding stones had been removed – common practice when abandoning a mill – he might be facing a nearly empty room.

Slipping the note into his pocket, he called for his horse. He would pay a quick visit to the mill. If the interior offered no concealment, he must devise an alternate plan.

The mill was several miles down the valley, reached most quickly by cutting through Northfield’s woods. Since Harry and Edwin were visiting the Manor, he did not expect to run into anyone, so he was surprised when Northrup approached. The baron looked less than pleased to encounter him.

“Would you prefer that I not use the shortcut?” he asked.

Northrup’s face flushed. “Of course not. You are welcome to ride here anytime. After all, we often cut through your woods to reach town.”

James nodded. “Then what is troubling you?”

“I was heading for Ridgeway. I must ask your intentions toward Mary.” He sounded apologetic, his youth making the question almost impudent.

“I mean her no harm.”

“Perhaps, but you could harm her nonetheless. She is vulnerable just now.”

“Why? She was not attached to Frederick, is accustomed to being in charge, and is quite definite in her opinions.”

“True, but her life is in turmoil. Whatever his failings, Frederick’s death means tremendous change for her.” Northrup met his eyes squarely. “I will not pretend he was a good man, for I knew him too well. Escaping him was one of my reasons for buying colors.”

“So Lady Northrup said.”

“By vulnerable, I meant that she faces many adjustments. As good as her stewardship has been, I must oversee my own property. Those who have condemned her for taking on a man’s job hail my actions as proof of her incompetence, reviving all the malicious gossip that has plagued her for years – much of it started by your brother. Your attentions are making it worse, for most people believe you had an affair with her ten years ago. Why else would an earl’s son befriend a vicar’s daughter? Some think you left because she tried to force you into marriage to make up for losing George.”

“False. Every word of it.”

“I believe you, though few will. Which is why you should cease calling on her. Rumors already claim that you have resumed the affair. Several people noted your absence from the party last night. She has borne more than her share of insults in past years. I won’t have her hurt again.”

“Nor I, but I will not allow petty gossip to dictate my behavior.”

“A pretty vow, but it disregards the affect on Mary.”

“I will not hurt her, but neither will I be blackmailed into avoiding her.”

“Why?”

“Three reasons. The first is practical – she is helping me investigate John’s murder, and has discovered information I would not have found on my own. The second is perverse – I refuse to give the Bridwells even a temporary victory; they will be leaving soon, and I will see that everyone learns why they knowingly repeated lies.”

Northrup’s eyes widened, so he explained Bridwell’s background before continuing. “My third reason is personal – I have every intention of wedding Mary, but she would refuse me if I offered just now. She is still scarred by Frederick’s abuse.”

He nodded. “And has not forgotten your brother’s attack.”

“I know he tried to seduce her when she was sixteen, but Mary said nothing about an attack. What do you know of it?”

“I was there.” He sighed. “I was hiding in the woods to escape punishment for fighting with Frederick. Since I was up a tree, they did not see me.”

James nodded in encouragement as Northrup paused.

“John stopped her as she returned from visiting one of the tenants – right about there, actually.” He nodded toward a small clearing twenty feet away. “He first claimed to be you, but she laughed and told him he was a miserable liar. That did not sit well.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“He tried to talk her into a kiss, but she refused, citing an urgent errand. When she backed away from a caress, he pressed her. So she compared him unflatteringly to you. That’s when his mood shifted from flirtatious to nasty.”

“I am not surprised.” Cold clenched his heart. John had needed to be better than everyone – especially his twin. But Mary would not have known that at so tender an age.

“I had seen that same change often enough in Father to know what it meant. When he made his next grab, I started down, thinking maybe I could help her. But she took care of him herself, planting a vicious knee in his privates and cracking him in the temple with her basket. It must have contained something heavy, because he dropped like a rock. She fled. Since my help was no longer needed, I stayed in the tree, fearful of attracting his attention. By the time he recovered enough to leave, she was long gone. The rumors started that very day, accusing her of loose behavior.”

And not just because she had bested him, James realized, though that would have been unforgivable on its own. She had seen through his impersonation in an instant – the only one who had done so. Thus he had to discredit her lest she expose his imposture. And he would have made sure his twin’s reputation was worse than his own so no one would ever again compare them unfavorably.

“Some of the rumors were about me?”

He nodded. “Those came later. The first tales claimed she had thrown herself at John, enticing him into a lusty affair. Two years passed before the ones about you started.”

“All false.”

“I know. Anyone who considered the tales impartially must realize that they are suspicious.”

“Yet few ever question gossip, which is why I must reveal John’s lies and Bridwell’s collusion.”

Northrup frowned. “Then I must also ask about a tale I heard in India.”

What was this?
he wondered sharply. He had had more than one confrontation with East India officials who disapproved of his trading. The last one had led to a rumor claiming that he had arranged Ashwini’s death to deprive a valued customer of those gems. False, of course, as even the customer had agreed – he’d probably been behind the theft himself. Now he suspected that Rigby had taken advantage of every opportunity to tarnish his reputation abroad.

“When I first arrived in India, I heard tales about many Englishmen. Because your name was familiar, those concerning you stuck in my mind.”

“They would.”

“One claimed that you fathered a boy on your mistress, but when she demanded that you take them back to England and acknowledge him, you struck out in anger and killed them both.”

“That is one I have not heard before.” It took an effort to control his voice. “It must have started after I left.”

“Perhaps.”

“It is a very twisted version of the truth. There was a mistress, and there was a child, though neither was mine.” He named an army officer.

Northrup’s eyes darkened. “I begin to see. He was a credit neither to the regiment nor to humanity.”

“Was?”

“He died in battle, to no one’s regret.”

“He tossed the girl out when she disclosed her condition. Her family refused her a roof, so I took her on as a maid. When I decided to return to England, I made arrangements for her and the child to emigrate, but they succumbed to cholera a month before they were to sail.”

Northrup nodded. “I will mention that to Mary – I related the original tale on returning home.” He ignored James’s grimace. “And if you truly care for her, you have my blessing. But don’t hurt her.”

He left, continuing toward town.

James relaxed his fists. Poor Mary. She had been ill-used for years. If only he had identified his attachment earlier, he would have taken her with him into exile. His love had sprung up long before his return. The seeds had been sown ten years ago, but he hadn’t been thinking in those terms. And anger and grief had clouded his mind even further.

Somehow he would make it up to her. As soon as he finished this business – which he hoped would be today – he could concentrate on calming her remaining fears.

A tenant passed, doffing his cap, then a farmer and the midwife. As he rounded the next corner, he again jumped. This path seemed as crowded as Park Row during the fashionable hour. Mary pulled her horse to a stop and smiled. Who was chaperoning her sisters?

“Harry and Edwin took the girls for a carriage ride,” she answered.

He must have spoken aloud. “My apologies. I did not mean to impugn your manners, but I just passed Northrup, so I was surprised to see you.”

“Were you coming to Northfield?”

“Not this time. I was heading for the mill.”

“Have you found a new miller?”

“I can hardly do so without checking the condition of the building. John had authorized no repairs in ten years.” But his evasion did not fool her. She could read his mind as easily as he could read hers.

“But that is not your purpose today.” She frowned.

“This was on my desk when I awoke this morning.” He handed her the note.

“It’s a trap,” she announced immediately.

“Probably, which is why I must look over the building now. I will take Harry and Edwin tonight.”

She nodded thoughtfully, again reading the note. “I’ve seen this hand before.”

“Could it be Walden’s?”

“No.”

Disappointment forced out a sigh. He had really wanted it to be Walden, who was not a native and had been one of John’s minions. “How about Bridwell?”

She shook her head. “His wife writes all their correspondence.”

“Another good suspect gone.”

“Unless this really is genuine,” she pointed out.

“Do you think it might be?”

“No, but stranger things have happened.”

He slipped the note back in his pocket. “At least this limits the sender to someone whose hand you have seen – on invitations, perhaps, or on accounts.”

“I have probably seen every bit of writing in the area at one time or another, but I’ve seen this hand quite recently. I just don’t remember where at the moment. Perhaps the files will jog my memory. We keep all the receipts, and I still have the responses to our dinner.”

“I will call on my way back from the mill – if you will be home by then,” he added, remembering that she had been headed away from Northfield.

“Certainly. I was just on my way to Ridgeway. My maid heard something you should know.”

“About John’s death?”

“I doubt it has any bearing on that, though the tale reflects poorly on him.”

“As does everything else I learn about him.”

“This one concerns Tom Ruddy’s daughter Alice.”

“He runs the linen draper’s, doesn’t he?”

She nodded. “Alice died of influenza about a year ago. I paid little attention at the time because I was still in shock over Frederick’s accident.”

“How long had it been?”

“A few days, maybe a week. I don’t really recall. But Alice was a pretty girl who enjoyed flirting – all very innocent; her reputation was spotless. Her only failing was that she was a bit credulous.”

“How old was she?”

“Fifteen.”

He flinched, afraid he knew where this was going.

“Her death was unfortunate, but not uncommon. Half a dozen people died of influenza last year, and many more suffered.”

“But that was hardly John’s doing.”

“Of course not. But she had gone to Ridgeway a few days earlier, hoping to get a position as a maid. The rumor claims that she not only failed to get the job, but lost her virtue in the process.”

How much truth was in the tale? he wondered. Everyone knew Mrs. Washburn never hired young girls. It was her defense against John’s lechery. Even the most credulous girl should have known her chances of being hired were nonexistent.

But her claim may have covered her real purpose. John could charm the birds off the trees when he put his mind to it. He never used force until he had failed to gain cooperation. He would have enjoyed seducing the girl, luring her into his lair with either the promise of a job or a tour of the house. Ridgeway contained enough treasures to captivate a simple girl. And too many innocents enjoyed the danger of flirting with a libertine.

She would have stood no chance of escape.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said aloud. “I’ve no doubt the tale is true. And judging from others I’ve heard, she would have suffered greatly at his hands. Perhaps it is a mercy she contracted influenza. One of his other victims tried to drown herself in the lake.”

Mary blanched. Only then did he realize that he had spoken.
Ass!
he berated himself, tempted to beat his head against a tree. How was he to calm Mary’s fears after confirming that intimacy was so frightening that girls would rather kill themselves than live with the memory.

“Most men are not like that,” he said, forcing calm into his voice. “Which is why John’s behavior was so appalling.”

“I know,” she said, but he could see that she was far from convinced. “I will try to remember where I’ve seen that hand. Stop at Northfield on your way home. Perhaps we will both know more by then.”

She turned down another path and left him.

 * * * *

Mary cursed herself even as she cantered toward the safety of the house. But she had needed to escape his company. The heat in his eyes had made her – just for a moment – long to fling herself into his arms and his bed.

Fool!

He was far more dangerous than his brother, for his kindness weakened her defenses.

Hurling stronger invective at her own stupidity, she dismounted and strode into the house. She had nearly fallen into the same trap as Alice Ruddy – calling at a bachelor establishment. The servants would have repeated the tale, confirming every rumor about her. The resulting scandal could have damaged Caro and Amelia.