Ask Me No Questions (36 page)

She started to pour another cup for her brother, but a gust slammed against the windows and her hand jolted, the tea spilling over.

"Easy, m'dear," said Lord Vincent, accepting the cup and saucer. "This house has withstood many such storms I fancy, eh, Chandler?"

"Very many. You are quite safe, my lady."

"Well I wish I was safely in London," she said, fear making her forget her vow to be tactful. "We should have left this morning, Vincent, as you said. I wish I had listened to you."

"So do I, sweet. But you seldom do."

"I fancy the roads are still safe," murmured Sir Brian. "Should you wish to leave, my dear, we will send some of our people to escort you."

"Perhaps, by the morning, sir, the wind will—"

She was interrupted by alarmed voices and running footsteps in the hall. The door burst open and Ruth Allington rushed in, out of breath, windblown, obviously distressed.

At once Chandler sprang to his feet. Ruth flew to him, and he took her outstretched hands into his strong clasp. "What is it?"

"How dare you burst in here like this?" exclaimed Lady Nadia angrily.

Looking only at Gordon, Ruth panted, "He—he is here! That man from… the library! He was watching the house!"

"Devil he was!" Ignoring his betrothed, Chandler put Ruth aside and started to the door, but the butler was already entering. Starret looked dismayed and offered a salver. Chandler took up the card. "Sir," he said, turning to his father with a frown, "are you acquainted with a Mr. Burton Farrier?"

Lord Vincent, who had watched this scene with faint amusement, sobered abruptly, and his cup clattered onto the saucer. "The Terrier?" he gasped. "My God! What mischief have you been about, Chandler?"

Lady Nadia threw him a sharp look.

Sir Brian said, "I seem to have heard the name…"

"I would rather think you had." Lord Vincent elaborated, "He's a glorified bounty hunter. Works with military intelligence, they say, and has the reputation of never having failed once he's set onto someone's trail."

"You are too kind, my lord." Farrier waved Starret aside and strolled into the room. He had smoothed his wig and aside from being slightly flushed gave no sign of having just run at speed across the gardens. He bowed low and gracefully to Lady Nadia, and again to the gentlemen.

With an irked glance at Starret, Chandler said, "I think you were not invited to enter, sir."

"But does my presence alarm you, Mr. Chandler?" Farrier smiled kindly. "I am but a humble government servant and unless you have a troubled conscience you've nothing to fear."

"We entertain guests." Sir Brian had risen and regarded the newcomer with distaste. "If you wish to see me you must make an appointment with—"

"The King's officers are not required to make appointments when dealing with matters of High Treason," purred Farrier.

Predictably, his words created consternation. Lady Nadia's white hand flew to her throat, Ruth gave a shocked gasp, Lord Vincent positively goggled at the "King's officer," and Sir Brian, suddenly very pale, groped at the chair behind him for support.

Chandler said softly, "I wonder does his Majesty know you are one of his officers. Or that you force your way into the home of a titled gentleman on some trumped-up pretext and do your best to frighten ladies."

For just an instant, Farrier's smile disappeared.

Lord Vincent said, "I can waste no more time." He turned to his sister. "M'dear, an you are ready to leave, we should start at once."

With a notable lack of argumentation Lady Nadia stood.

Farrier raised a languid hand. "I must ask that you remain, my lord. I will but keep you long enough to make a brief enquiry."

"About what?" Lady Nadia spoke with regal hauteur, but her fingers plucked nervously at her fan.

"About nothing we care to hear," snapped Chandler. "Starret, show this upstart out!"

The butler bit his lip, but started forward obediently.

Farrier said, "Would you prefer I call in the troop I have posted at your gates?"

Sure that there was no troop, Chandler smiled. "By all means."

My lady's eyes grew wide with fright.

Again, Farrier's sly smile wavered, and his eyes darted a glare of intense dislike at Chandler. "I wonder why you should be so very hostile, sir?"

Uneasy, Lord Vincent said, "Perhaps we should hear what the fellow has to say. If 'tis indeed a matter of High Treason it would not do to hinder any investigation."

Farrier bowed. "Very wise, my lord."

With an imperative gesture Sir Brian silenced his son's attempt to comment. "What is it you wish to know? Be brief, if you please. I do not care for my guests to be inconvenienced."

His smile restored, Farrier said, "But of course, sir. 'Tis in the matter of this very serious outbreak of shipping losses."

Chandler suppressed a sigh of relief. He had feared this little wart was after Quentin again. He did not dare look at his father, knowing Sir Brian had shared his apprehensions and guessing that, although Farrier did not seem to be watching him, those cunning eyes missed nothing.

"My superiors," Farrier went on, "suspect there are wreckers at work along this coast. Many of the cargoes were lost to the sea, of course, but salvage attempts have revealed a surprising discrepancy between goods believed to have been washed up on shore, and those actually reclaimed."

"Your superiors must suspect there is a veritable army of wreckers at work," said Chandler ironically. "From what we've heard there have been ships gone down all around our shores from Dover to the Scots Border, and from the Mersey to Cornwall!"

De Brette shook his head. " 'Tis bad enough to think of such tragedies occurring due to wind and weather, but that human beings could be so heartless as to have engineered them… ! Dreadful! Many of those lost were women and children, I believe. Especially on the East Indiamen."

"Your compassion does you credit, my lord," purred Farrier. "May I assume you will not object to cooperating?"

De Brette looked startled. "Cooperating, you say? How?"

"Why, my lord, you are… here, after all."

Chandler's brows twitched into a dark frown. "What the deuce d'you mean by that remark?"

"Only that the
Empress of Calcutta
was—er, went down off your cove earlier in the year, I believe."

Taking a stride towards that gentle grin, Chandler grated, "Do you dare to imply—"

"But my dear sir." Farrier's hands waved gracefully. "I imply nothing. I merely attempt to discover if you, or your guests, have noted anything—er, untoward, shall we say. Or have found any trace of the goods that were, alas, never recovered."

Chandler roared, "Why you festering little wart!" and sprang at Farrier who, nothing if not fast on his feet, darted behind his chair.

"Stay back!" His voice shrill now, and his smile quite gone, Farrier declared, "There are sufficient counts 'gainst you already!"

"What counts?" demanded Sir Brian angrily.

"He's bluffing, sir," cried Chandler. "Do you not see that he only—"

"Be still! Answer me, Farrier!
What
counts?"

Farrier's right hand slid into his pocket. His smile shaken but restored, he replied, "Your youngest son is a known traitor—an enemy of this country. He—"

"My brother lives in France, confound you!" snarled Chandler. "And he is far less an enemy of England than are slippery toads of your ilk!"

"Then 'tis as I thought! You are in sympathy with his revolutionary beliefs!"

With a growl of rage Chandler again started forward.

"Stay back! I warn you!" Farrier snatched a small pistol from his pocket and aimed it steadily.

Lady Nadia screamed.

Lord Vincent sprang to her support.

Terrified, Ruth watched from the corner to which she had retreated.

Sir Brian's voice cracked through the tense room. "How
dare
you bring a weapon into my home! Put it up at once! Put it up, I say!"

"Not until you restrain your son!"

"Gordon," rasped Sir Brian, "I'll remind you there are ladies present! Let the creature be!"

Between his teeth Chandler said, "He should be put out like any other rubbish, sir. Only let me deal—"

"You heard me! Over here, if you please!"

Seething, Chandler went to his father's side.

De Brette said, "Your superiors will hear from me, Farrier! Such conduct is unforgivable! You have alarmed Lady de Brette! I wonder the dear soul did not swoon to see a deadly weapon brandished under her nose. Furthermore, your charges are absurd. Sir Brian is well known to have condemned his younger son's loyalty to the Stuart Cause. Gordon Chandler did all in his power to dissuade him. If that is all you can produce 'gainst them—"

"There is a great deal more, my lord. 'Tis far from my wish to have upset her ladyship, but the facts remain. Your neighbour, Mr. Poulsborough, states that you are extreme secretive about anyone venturing near your cove. One cannot but wonder what you seek to conceal. Furthermore, Mr. Gordon Chandler was only recently alleged to have been badly injured by poachers. Yet your former steward has told us that Mr. Chandler had clandestine meetings in the woods at night with several ugly-looking customers. It was, in fact, after the steward had become suspicious of these meetings and attempted to discover what was afoot, that he was dismissed on a charge of incompetence."

"That is a bare-faced lie!" raged Chandler. "Durwood was a larcenous, lazy—"

Sir Brian cut off that accusation with a gesture and interpolated, "What have you deduced from these spiteful allegations by an unpleasant neighbour and an untrustworthy steward? Who do you suppose the men in my woods to have been? And why would they have harmed my son was he in league with them in some sort of skullduggery?"

Farrier shrugged. "We will have the answers when they are safely under lock and key. There are many possible reasons. A falling out among—er, conspirators, mayhap."

"Do not wrap your accusations in clean linen," Chandler said harshly. "You mean—
thieves
! Perhaps you can also advise me of the details of our conspiracy. The invasion of a Jacobite force from France, led by my brother, perchance? A little Free Trading? Or are we your fictional wreckers?"

Farrier's eyes widened. "My dear sir, those are
your
words. Not mine. Mark this, however. On the night the
Empress of Calcutta
went aground off this coast, the new lighthouse to the north of here was dark. Someone, we believe, had tampered with the fire. Now I put it to you, Sir Brian, that if the same—er, someone had lit the logs atop
your
old tower, a ship's captain struggling through heavy seas, might well be lured—"

"I'll lure you!" Unable to contain himself any longer, Chandler fairly leapt forward.

Farrier's pistol swung up, but he was too late. With one swipe of his fist Chandler sent the pistol hurtling across the room. Farrier emitted a strangled squawk and clawed at the iron hands that were throttling him. Sir Brian swore and ran to restrain his son. De Brette made an attempt to assist. Before they could stop him, Chandler had shaken Farrier savagely, and flung him aside. "You all heard him," he panted. "With neither warrant nor proof, this fanatic invaded our home, alarmed our guests, spoke slander and libel 'gainst us, and aimed a deadly weapon at me! I'd be well justified to shoot him out of hand!"

Picking himself up from his knees, clutching at his throat, and all but incoherent with wrath, Farrier wheezed, "Vicious…
lunatic
! You have attacked a government officer! A's-servant of the Crown! Did you think us so stupid as… to fancy it merest coincidence that
she"
—he pointed a trembling finger at Ruth—"should be under your roof? The sister of a man responsible for… for wrecking another great ship!"

Chandler heard his father's shocked gasp and, not daring to glance at him, said mockingly, "A man must be a dedicated wrecker indeed to be willing to go down with his ship!"

"How d'you know Armitage drowned?" shrilled Farrier. "His body was never recovered. He's likely alive somewhere, living off his ill-gotten gains. Do not count on doing the same, I warn you! We know you're all tarred with the same—" He broke off and made a staggering run for the door as Chandler wrenched free and sprang for him. "You'll pay for this outrage," he gulped chokingly, his voice fading down the hall. "You'll rue the day… !"

Sir Brian, who had been staring at Ruth in horror, followed him, but turned a grim look on Gordon and commanded, "Stay here! You've done enough damage!"

"Vincent," gasped Lady Nadia, "I wish to go back to Town. Now!"

Chandler said, "I regret that you were subjected to such a scene, ma'am, but you must not travel in this weather. That revolting bounty hunter has no shred of evidence 'gainst us, I promise you."

She turned on him in a blaze of rage. "Are you mad? Do you know how many men the horrid creature has sent to the scaffold?"

"I tell you he has no proof! De Brette, listen to that wind. You
cannot
venture the roads tonight!"

De Brette frowned. "I think 'twould be a greater hazard to remain in your company than to travel as far as Dover, at least. Were I in your shoes, Chandler, I'd make demned sure you've people ready to swear your lighthouse was indeed dark the night of the wreck!" He glanced at Ruth. "And that you stay clear of anyone with the
slightest
involvement in the filthy business."

"As I mean to do!" Lady Nadia hurried to the door. Glancing back, she said, "Our betrothal is at an end, Chandler! I was willing to endure a lot to become your bride, but I've no least desire to be a traitor's widow!" She tore some papers from her reticule and flung them onto the floor. "I've no more need of these. My brother will send the notice to the newspapers as soon as we reach Town. As for you"—she glanced with contempt at Ruth—"he is free—if you're fool enough to want him!"

With a flutter of skirts and a click of her high Spanish heels, she was gone, her brother nodding curtly as he walked out after her.

Chandler picked up the papers and put them on the desk. Turning to Ruth, he asked gently, "My dear, are you very frightened?"