A Heartless Design (24 page)

“Was I?”

“Unless you want me to distract you again.” He smiled lazily.

“Sit down and act like a gentleman,” she said, pointing to the sofa. He returned to his seat.

Cordelia stood in front of him, her breath still quick from the kiss. She reflected on how much to tell him. “Many years ago, while my father was still alive, it came to my attention that one of my servants had a sister who badly needed employment. She could not find work in any respectable establishment because she had been convicted of theft and sent to prison. She was without references, and for a servant, there is nothing more important than a good reference.

“Naturally, she went to her family when she was released, but they were unable to provide for her. When I discovered this, I asked if the woman was a good worker in spite of her past. She’d been convicted of stealing three shillings worth of food, you see, and only because she could barely keep herself fed on what some tavern owner declared to be a decent wage. When I was assured that I could trust the woman, I interviewed her and hired her as a kitchen maid.

“Later, when I moved to London after my father’s death, I had the opportunity to hire an almost entirely new staff. I saw no reason not to trust my own employees when they found someone in need of a position. It’s in their interest as much as mine that everyone in this house behaves well.”

“I can’t believe this,” Sebastien said slowly.

“What’s so unbelievable? I have the chance to give someone a new life, off the streets where such unfortunates usually end up. How could I turn someone away?”

“And you have no cause to regret it?”

“I did have one lad who went back to crime—I called for the magistrate to take him. I do my best to help my people, but some are beyond help.” She paused, thinking. “But everyone else has been perfectly satisfactory. My friends have told me that the servants I recommend are among the best they have.”

“Wait! You send these people to
other houses
?” he asked incredulously.

“Occasionally,” she replied. “What is it that troubles you so? The fact that some housemaids in London have an unsavory past? Or that you suddenly realize that servants can have a past at all?”

“That’s not what I mean, Cordelia, and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean, Sebastien? There’s no point in telling anyone about this, you realize. I admit Stiles evaded his sentence, but he has shown his loyalty to me over and over again.”

“What would you do if I did bring the authorities here?”

She stared at him for a very long moment. What could she do? Thorne was a noble, an officer, and a man…and she suspected something more as well. She could never oppose him and win, not in any sort of public fight. So what did that leave her with? “The only thing I can promise, my lord, is that you would never see me or speak to me again.” She doubted whether that was an adequate threat.

He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. “Very well. I’d like to speak to Stiles again, though.”

“You seem to have mistaken my house for your own.” She stiffened again. “I refuse to allow you to interrogate my staff.”

“They might have seen or heard something, but not known it was significant,” he explained. “I want to protect you, Cordelia.”

She looked at him, frustrated. “I have protected myself for years.”

“You have no idea who is behind this, who Hayden is working with,” he warned her, once again standing up. “I think I might. Please let me help you. Let me talk to them.”

“You won’t threaten any of them, or remind them of their pasts, is that clear?” she ground out unwillingly.

“You can sit in, if you like.”

“No.” She shook her head. “They’ll be more forthcoming if only you are present.” She walked to the bell pull. “I’ll explain to Stiles that everyone should cooperate with you, and then let you work.”

“Thank you,” he said, suddenly subdued.

“I can’t wait for this to end,” she said, even as Stiles materialized at the door. Without a doubt, he had been hovering, ready for his mistress’s call.

“My lady?” Stiles inquired deferentially, ignoring Thorne entirely.

Cordelia smiled at the man, looking more like a daughter than an employer. “Stiles, I regret the bit of unpleasantness before. Lord Thorne has a few words to say about that, I’m sure.” She paused and leveled her gaze directly at Sebastien, clear about what she expected.

He wasn’t used to groveling to anyone, but he saw the truth of it. “My apologies, Stiles. I was unaware of the situation, and Miss Bering has corrected my mistake. You have nothing to fear concerning unwarranted character attacks from myself or anyone else.”

“I am very glad to hear that,” Stiles said, his eyes wide, perhaps at the novelty of receiving an apology from a noble. “I should not like to think that anything would disrupt my lady’s household or peace of mind.”

Cordelia sighed, satisfied. She instructed Stiles to have the staff answer any of Thorne’s questions, and then bid Sebastien a hasty farewell. She fled back to her bedroom, knowing every minute she spent near Sebastien Thorne brought her closer to disaster.

Thorne was frustrated. He had
asked Cordelia’s people about Hayden and the robbery, but he wasn’t much further along in tracking down Hayden, despite everything he’d tried. He had set a watch on Hayden’s rooms beginning the day after the man attacked Cordelia. But so far, his underlings had nothing to report. The man had disappeared from society. Sebastien knew a tip would surface eventually. Meanwhile, he delved into the man’s past.

What he found was troubling. Hayden was a member of the gentry. He attended Oxford (though more for the sporting life than the scholastic one), and then resided in London for several years. His income was substantial, judging by his habits and his wardrobe. But Thorne suspected that it all came from blackmail.  

The more Thorne learned about Hayden, the worse he appeared to be. He hovered at the edges of several scandals, but nothing could be linked to him with certainty. Through several circumspect conversations at Thorne’s clubs, he heard about ladies who had either been ruined by scandal after Hayden got ahold of indiscreet letters, or others who were crippled by debt in attempting to get their letters back.

Hayden left London for a while, when his schemes threatened to overtake him. He’d gone…somewhere…for two years. Some rumors suggested America, some thought the continent. He returned last year, and since lived a much quieter life.

Thorne thought he could guess what happened. The blackmailer Hayden fled London when one of his schemes went awry. Perhaps he attempted to blackmail the wrong person, or got too greedy. So he traveled the continent to escape, and there met someone who knew about the rumor of the
Andraste
. Hayden sensed an opportunity and joined forces with whoever it was. The man clearly had the ability and lack of character to get such papers. The method would likely not be much different from how he procured his old blackmailing material from compromised ladies.

Only this time, he was to gain the confidence of an innocent woman, intending to get her to hand over her father’s and Lear’s papers. But Cordelia was not as foolish as he assumed, and when Thorne joined the chase, Hayden lost control of his scheme.

Thus, he’d gone to ground, to wait out Thorne and plot a new way to get the papers for his employer.

But where was he now? And was he still after the plans? Cordelia had given them to Thorne, and swore she burned the rest. If she was telling the truth, the only possible way for Hayden to succeed would be to reach Lear himself.

And no one seemed to be able to do that.

Except Cordelia.

Thorne knew that, despite having the
Andraste
plans safe with the Zodiac, the mission wasn’t over. He’d have to see Cordelia again, until she led him to Lear. He remembered how coy she had been about Lear, and prayed that she wasn’t hiding something else.

But first, he had to go to the theater. His mother, quietly furious at his recent evasions, took revenge by preemptively arranging for him to join Lady Mary at
the
public event of the Season, the premiere performance of the celebrated actress Mrs Siddons’s turn as Lady Macbeth at the Theatre Royal.

“You will go, my son.
Everyone
is going,” she said, with the snap of a guillotine blade. “And you will enjoy yourself or die trying.”

He groused, but didn’t oppose his mother’s maneuver. If everyone was going, perhaps Cordelia would be there. And that might draw out Hayden. What better place to try to contact Cordelia again, if that’s what the man had in mind? All evidence to the contrary, Sebastien believed that Hayden hadn’t given up yet. And if it turned out that Cordelia was selling secrets after all, she was going to be sorry.

* * * *

Cordelia was already sorry. Weeks ago, she had agreed to join Mr Jay and Aunt Leona for a theater performance at Drury Lane. Unfortunately, she hadn’t realized then that this evening’s performance was to be a huge event—some of the royal family were rumored to be in attendance.

Yet it was far too late to cry off, and she now was attired in her fanciest gown, an empire waisted, watered silk confection in ivory, flounced dramatically all along the bottom hem. She was flanked by Aunt Leona and Mr Jay, ready to see and be seen at the magnificent Theatre Royal.

The place was a madhouse, with folks from all classes milling about in the finest clothing they could afford, and all chattering at the top of their lungs. The first performance was already in progress by the time Cordelia’s party arrived. This was not unusual—theater was viewed as a rather casual pastime, and the audience came, went, and commented throughout the evening.

Jay’s family reserved a private box, fortunately, and the young man escorted the ladies there immediately. The box, which held chairs for about ten people, looked out onto the main pit of the theater, and provided a view of the boxes on the opposite side as well. Cordelia sank into a red velvet chair near the rail, where everyone could see her. That was the point. For most patrons at the theater, the audience
was
the show. Leona sat down as well, and Jay left to order refreshments for the group. They expected a few of his family members to join them shortly.

Cordelia gazed out over the mass of attendees. It felt as though a thousand eyes were on her, but she knew that was likely only her nerves.

“Anyone we know?” Leona asked, as she also scanned the audience. “Ah, there is Lady Carey and her family! And is that Lord Thorne?”

Cordelia followed her aunt’s gaze, striving to not appear too intent. Yes, it was Lord Thorne in a box across the way. She feared he would be looking back at her, but in fact, his attention was occupied…by the same young lady she had seen with him once before. Lady Mary something-or-other. Sebastien was smiling at the woman like she was the only person in the world.

A surge of jealousy brought heat to Cordelia’s cheeks. Had he forgotten their encounter so readily? Then she breathed in, trying to reason with herself. Why should he not court the beautiful Lady Mary? It wasn’t as if he’d ever been courting Cordelia. Their liaison had been as secret as it had been singular. She didn’t
want
to be linked to Thorne. Really, Lady Mary was doing her a favor, if she took Thorne’s attention away from her.

When Jay returned, Cordelia made a special effort to be as engaged and lively as she could, going out of her way to ask questions about his family and to bring Leona into the conversation.

A wave of applause suddenly burst out. The legendary Sarah Siddons had taken the stage for her first scene as Lady Macbeth, and the audience was briefly united in its attention. Cordelia chanced a look back toward Thorne’s box. Lady Mary was watching the performance, but Thorne caught Cordelia’s look and held it. She didn’t know how to describe his expression, but it was not reassuring.

Before she could turn back to the performance, she saw someone else watching her. A shock went through her. Hayden stood in a box directly below Thorne’s, gazing up at Cordelia with a knowing smile.

She couldn’t believe his nerve. He’d almost killed her, and now he appeared at the theater like any other gentleman! When Cordelia would have turned her head, he actually beckoned her, making it clear that he wanted Cordelia to meet him.

She turned away, offended and frightened. Jay noticed her distress, but she only shook her head, trying to focus on the performance. Hayden had to be mad to think that she would come close to him after what he had done.

Or he knew something.

Cordelia glanced back. Hayden was still staring intently at her. If he continued, it might cause comment. When he crooked a finger, she knew she didn’t dare ignore him—if this kind of behavior continued in full sight of everyone, it could cause a scandal.

“Mr Jay,” she whispered. “Hayden is here.”

“What?” he asked, startled. “You can’t be serious. He wouldn’t dare.”

“He did dare. He wants to speak to me.”

“I can’t allow it. He’s a scoundrel.” Jay’s voice was as low as hers, but Cordelia heard the outrage.

“He’s a scoundrel who may have something important to say. I’m afraid I must go find him.” She frowned.

“Miss Bering…”

She put her hand on his arm. “Will you do me the favor of finding the theater manager? Perhaps he’ll know how we can hold Hayden until the authorities can be called.”

“Of course.” Jay nodded. “But I don’t like you going alone to meet Hayden.”

“I won’t be alone. Half of London is here tonight. I shall never be out of sight.”

She rose to leave, warning Jay to wait a moment before following so Hayden wouldn’t suspect anything.

The hallways and foyers of the building were just as crowded as the theater itself. People chatted, displayed their finery, and watched the parade of society. Cordelia hurried through the throng, not knowing quite where she was going. But she knew that Hayden would find her.

She reached the ground floor and was almost to the large doorway to the street when a voice stopped her cold.