A Suspicious Affair (18 page)

Together their eyes moved across the room to where Edelia was still in conversation with the dowager, still turning her back on the rest of the company as if they were beneath her.

Carlinn couldn’t help contrasting the auburn beauty with the blonde at his side. Edelia was perfectly groomed,
point device
in thin, low-cut muslin, and shivering, while Marisol wore a soft dark blue merino with long sleeves and a high collar. She looked warm, comfortable, inviting. He wiped that last thought from his mind and turned back to the tapestry. One tiger was leaping, in the midst of capturing a rabbit for all eternity. Somehow he knew how the rabbit must feel.

“I apologize again. I should have known better.”

“What, the Earl of Kimbrough apologizing twice in one day? Unheard of!” She smiled to lighten his mood. “Besides, I might want to go up to Town next year or so, do the shops, the opera, and such. It would be infinitely more comfortable to have Arvid’s murder solved and forgotten. It’s too bad Dimm cannot find any more clues.”

Together they looked toward the trio around the tea table. “Though I do not know how he expects to uncover any evidence in London when he spends most of his time here in Berkshire flirting with Aunt Tess.”

“What, are you matchmaking there, too, Duchess?” Carlinn demanded.

Her smile disappeared. Her chin rose. “That is none of your concern, my lord. You can try to keep your sister from a misalliance, but my aunt and Mr. Dimm are none of your affair.”

“My, how easily you fly into the boughs, Duchess.” He tapped her nose with one finger. “I was teasing. I meant to save Mr. Dimm for Cousin Winifred.”

They shared a laugh, but Carlinn noticed how quickly her smile faded. He thought she must still be troubled over the talk about her reputation. And she was looking tired, he realized, rebuking himself for battening his entire family and difficult guest on her at one time. How could she not be exhausted, looking after Foster, the baby, and the new school? And her maid was no help, with the abigail’s husband also needing nursing. “Have you been getting out at all, Duchess, other than your parish work?” he wanted to know.

“What, going to parties and such? Now that would set the county on its ear. I do keep to some kind of mourning, you know.”

“Yes, but you are entitled to some pleasure, too. How would you feel about a small dinner party among neighbors at Kimbrough Hall? The adult Hambleys, Squire and his sons, perhaps a few others. No one could find fault with that.”

No one but Miss Sherville, who had turned to watch them, obviously impatient with her neglectful escort. Carlinn sincerely believed the duchess needed time away from the infant and the invalid; he also believed it was time he established mastery of his own household. If Miss Sherville did not like his friends…

Marisol also looked to Edelia, and felt the other woman’s barely concealed loathing. A night out sounded marvelous, but what pleasure could there be in seeing that jealous cat sitting at Kimbrough’s right hand?

“Come, your brother can’t have all the valor in the family.”

But she didn’t have to decide. The dinner party was cancelled when the note arrived at Denning Castle.
If you care about Denning’s brat,
the message began.

Chapter Eighteen

If you care about Denning’s brat,
the note read,
leave 200 pounds in Hyde Park at 5 p.m. Tuesday next.
Below was a rough sketch of the park with an arrow to one path, an
x
marking the third bench past an ink blot. No, that must be a landmark of some kind, a big tree or a monument. Marisol could not quite recall that particular footpath; she was more familiar with the carriage ways along Rotten Row. No matter, she’d search out that third bench as if her life depended on it—or Nolly’s.

“You’ll what?” the earl yelled, not believing his ears. “You’ll go pay this cockamamie ransom demand when they don’t even have the boy? Are your attics to let, woman?”

“Don’t you dare shout at me! And yes, I’ll go give them anything they want so they leave us alone.”

“Leave you alone? This is only the beginning. If you pay them now, you might as well put them on your payroll! I’ve never heard a more paperskulled idea. I forbid it!”

“You cannot forbid me anything, my lord. I have my own accounts to draw from.”

The earl tore his neckcloth off and threw it to the ground, so he could shout louder, it seemed. “You nimwit, this is not a kidnapping, this is just extortion! You don’t pay someone for making threats!”

Marisol jumped to her feet and stood glaring at Lord Kimbrough. “What would you have me do, wait until they harm Nolly, then pay them? Now that is being penny-wise and pound-foolish in the extreme, my lord.”

“This has nothing to do with money, for heaven’s sake!”

“It has everything to do with money! I have it, and they want it! Two hundred pounds is a small price to pay for my son’s safety.”

“And that’s another thing. What kind of maggoty blackmailer asks for two hundred pounds when they have to know you’re worth thousands? You cannot do it.”

“I can and must!” She stomped her foot for emphasis. “I’ll get that money to Hyde Park with or without your approval.”

“That’s fine,” he said with a sneer. “The duchess is back in command. You’ll ignore my advice just to prove your superiority. What will you do, flounce off to London and leave Nolly here unprotected? Then again, you’ve hardly left him out of your sight for his—what? four months?”

“Nearly five. Some kind of guardian you are,” she muttered, “not knowing your ward’s age.”

“Just so. Nearly five months. So what do you intend, to take him with you to Town? You might as well hand him over to these cockleheaded criminals now, along with his fortune, for there is no way to protect him in London.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said quietly, sitting down again.

Carlinn sat beside her and took her hands in his. “I know, Duchess. You’re only thinking with your heart, not your head. But you can’t, for Nolly’s sake. A threat like this is meant to arouse fear, that’s all. If you give in, they’ve won without doing more than writing a letter. We can keep Nolly safe here; you know we can.”

An army of relatives, trusted servants, and dogs surrounded the baby. He was never left unattended by less than two people and one dog. He was never brought into a room without it being checked for lurkers first and never taken outside except in a phalanx of adults. The grounds were patrolled regularly, the village was on the alert for strangers, and Marisol kept her embroidery scissors on a ribbon around her neck. Even Lord Kimbrough had taken to carrying his pistol with him, and Dimm’s son Gabriel was never out of shouting distance, with his ready weapon.

“Nolly is safe, until someone shoots Mr. Dimm’s son to get to mine! We cannot live like this, Carlinn!” Neither of them noticed her use of his first name, nor that he still held her hands. She felt better for his strength; he felt better for giving what reassurance he could. “Don’t ask me to live in fear for the rest of my life, my lord. I cannot do it.”

“Of course not. Dimm and I have a plan to capture the extortionists.”

Marisol groaned. “Oh no, not another trap. I won’t let you use Nolly as bait; I swear I won’t.”

“You really do get mushbrained under pressure, don’t you? You’d never find a place on Old Hooky’s staff, that’s for sure. If he’s hoping for aide-decamp, Foster had better hope he didn’t inherit your skitterwits along with your nose.”

“What’s wrong with my nose?” she asked, diverted as he intended. “And my wits, of course?”

Carlinn patted her hands, got up, and was already pacing. “Your wits have gone begging, my girl, if you think I’d endanger Nolly in the least. No, we’ll leave the ransom under the bench, all right, but it will not be real money.”

“Yes, it will,” she insisted. “Otherwise they might be angry enough to follow through with the threats!”

He frowned at her. “Blasted pigheaded female.” But he kept pacing. “Then we—Dimm and I—stand back and watch who comes to fetch the loot. Then we follow the fake money—”

“No!”

“The real money then, in case the pick-up person is merely a messenger. We see where he delivers the package and,
voila,
we have the blackmailers.”

“What does Mr. Dimm think?” Marisol asked, doubt coloring the question.

“He thinks we might even find Arvid’s murderer at the end of the trail. He’s off checking now, but he is almost positive that the handwriting on this note matches the message that sent you out to Denning’s carriage that day. There’s got to be a connection. He also thinks that the demand of two hundred pounds is peculiar.”

“It’s so low?”

“Right. It eliminates suspects like Boynton. He gambles away more than that before lunch.”

“Are you still suspicious of Boynton? I thought he was content now.”

“He’s still the one with the most to gain if…” He let that thought trail away. “But not for two hundred pounds. He’d hit you up in person if that was all he needed. I thought it might be a good idea to send for him anyway, where we could watch him, just to make sure.”

“I’ll write asking him to come stand watch over Nolly. He never leaves without hinting about some tailor’s bill or a new pair of boots, so he’ll come.”

The earl nodded. “Dimm says the low demand sounds more like some poor sod needs the money to get out of town or something, like Arvid’s valet going to the colonies. Dimm doesn’t suspect the man—he had nothing to gain except unemployment—but Dimm is looking into ship departures for next week and recent bookings. Maybe he’ll turn up something there and we never have to bother with the ransom.”

“You keep saying ‘we.’ You and Dimm have already decided on this plan, then? You weren’t even going to consult me?”

“Now don’t go getting on your high horse, Duchess. Of course we were. I am. Right now.”

“It’s too dangerous. And they’ll be expecting me.”

“No, the note just said leave the money, not that you had to be there. I doubt they’d be wanting to see anyone who might recognize them.”

“But that’s all the more reason I should go!”

“Definitely not! And don’t argue, or I’ll have you bound and gagged. Foster gave me permission. He’s already aggravated he cannot go help since he cannot hold a pistol or make the carriage ride, so sitting on you is his job. Besides, I need you to stay here to help entertain Miss Sherville.”

“I’d rather face the blackmailers.”

Kimbrough grinned. “So would I.”

*

Edelia thought Lord Kimbrough’s taking himself off to London a capital idea. In fact, she, his sister, and his cousin could all accompany him. She knew he wouldn’t wish to leave the women under his protection alone in a neighborhood of such desperate goings-on.

“What, you think you will be safer in London? With all the raff and scaff of the metropolis?”

“But you will be there to protect us, my lord,” she flattered, batting her lashes.

“I’m sorry, but I shall be too involved in this effort to trap the hoodlums to be a proper escort.”

Edelia wasn’t giving up. “Then we’ll have time to do the shops and see the sights. You wouldn’t wish your sister to appear the gapeseed when she does go up to Town, staring at everything like a cabbagehead. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to gain a bit of Town bronze before the ton returns.”

“Miss Sherville, thank you for being concerned for my sister’s welfare, but this is not a social call I am paying. It is a very serious matter, possibly even perilous, and will take my full attention. I could not think of having you or Bettina in London at the time.”

“And just what am I supposed to do for the remainder of my visit then, with my host nowhere in view?” she demanded.

What she was
supposed
to do was be a gracious guest to her godmother, who had, in fact, issued the invitation. She was supposed, Kimbrough thought, to go for walks and rides and visits to the neighbors, none of which she’d been content with so far. One more week and she’d be back in Bath, thank heaven. Thank heaven twice that he hadn’t made any commitment.

To Miss Sherville, the invitation had been as good as an offer. There was no way she was going to wring that proposal out of the slowtop if he wasn’t even in the county, though. And for certain she was not going to stay by herself in this benighted place where the nearest neighbors were up to their eyebrows in havey-cavey doings. Not if there was no chance of bringing the Elusive Earl up to scratch. “Perhaps it would be better if I shortened my visit.”

“You must please yourself, of course, but I was hoping you would be a companion to the duchess in this trying time. You said you were old friends. I’m sure she’d find comfort in that.”

Marisol Laughton? Edelia should sit holding that frumpy blonde’s hand? Marisol was the one who married a rich duke and now seemed to have a rich earl sitting in her pocket. “Don’t you think you are taking your guardianship of the boy a little too seriously?” she asked spitefully. “I mean, extending your care to the child’s mother? That really should be the prerogative of her brother…or her husband.”

The earl loosened his suddenly tight shirt collar. “Her husband is dead, Miss Sherville, and her brother is incapacitated. I am only doing what any gentleman would do in my place.”

“How lucky for Her Grace,” Edelia sniped, sure now she had lost the battle. “I think I should prefer to go home. Rather than being a comfort, the duchess must find guests an unwanted burden at this difficult time.” To say nothing of dangerous. Edelia had no intention of stepping foot in Denning Castle again, not with armed guards and vicious dogs and puking infants who were subject to kidnapping. “Good manners dictate that I cut short my visit under the circumstances.”

“But I cannot accompany you home at this time, Miss Sherville. I can put a carriage at your disposal, and outriders, if that is your wish, but I have no male escort to offer. My sister and my cousin feel needed here, helping to look after Foster, so you would only have your maid for chaperone. It is not what I can like, but if you insist…”

Edelia was thinking on it. Traveling back to Bath without an engagement ring wasn’t what she could like, escorted or no. If she stayed, she might have another go at getting him up to the mark when he returned from London. On the other hand, Kimbrough might be highly titled, as handsome as he could stare, and as rich as Croesus, but there was no denying he was as firmly planted in the Berkshire soil as an old oak tree. With a few squirrels in his upper branches. Oh, he might drag himself to London for his sister’s presentation, if the chit didn’t run off with that Laughton boy to follow the drum. But after that? He’d stay right here in the country with his
outré
neighbors, forever and ever. Earl or no earl, Bath was preferable to that.

Miss Sherville was still trying to decide where her best interests lay the day before Kimbrough was to leave for London. Then Lord Boynton came to call. She’d stay. What elegance of fashion, what address, what fulsome compliments he paid!

*

“What? You’ve got the Sherville heiress next door, Marisol? ’Pon rep, I knew my luck had changed with old Arvid’s passing. She’s Golden Ball Sherville’s only child, don’t you know. And that Grosvenor Square house they own is just sitting there empty. With the father dead and the mother in Bath there wouldn’t even be in-law problems. Could even set up my own private gaming hell. Dash it, I always said you were the best of sisters-in-law! Thankee for sending for me, m’dear.”

Marisol sipped at her ratafia. “But, Boynton, I didn’t send for you about Miss Sherville. It’s Nolly’s future I’m concerned over, not yours. You’ve waited this long to marry an heiress. It never occurred to me that you’d be interested.”

“Time comes for all men to bite the bullet, m’dear. You’ve been more than generous, but I can’t live off m’sister-in-law forever, don’t you know. That’s what they make wives for.” Boynton patted her shoulder. “And don’t worry your pretty head about the little chap, m’dear. Makes frown lines. Tell you what, I’ll fork over the two hundred pounds myself. I’m flush this week, what? Better yet, I’ll give you a draft on my bank. That way you can set someone to watching the bank when your culprit tries to cash the check. Of course, we’d have cancelled payment by then anyway. I do it all the time.” Boynton was grimacing at his waistcoat. “Coral will never do for calling on an auburn-haired beauty. What do you think, m’dear, should I change into the white marcella or the puce brocade?”

Marisol bit her lip. “I’m not sure Miss Sherville shares your enthusiasm for fashion,” she hinted. “Edelia is a very proper sort of female.”

Boynton adjusted the black arm band he wore. “Right, the gray satin stripe.”

“But, Boynton, I believe she’s turned down two offers just this year,” Marisol tried again. “Edelia is very fussy.”

“Of course she is. I daresay heiresses can afford to be as fussy as they want. I suppose I ought to bring the chit flowers. Mind if I gather a posy from the conservatory?”

“I, ah, think that Lord Kimbrough had in mind to make her an offer when he invited her to the Hall.” Marisol wasn’t sure why the idea bothered her so much, but it did.

“Pooh, he don’t need her brass. I do. He’s going to London to take care of this little dilemma for you; I’ll take care of Miss Sherville for him. Neighborly, don’t you know. He’ll thank me.”