Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (13 page)

Laurel donned a nondescript, gray kerseymere gown over three extra garments with a white apron covering the front. The added apparel served to thicken her figure to stoutness and a serviceable pair of boots finished the picture. Pushing her tresses beneath a worn bonnet, she used powder to alter her complexion. Giving a satisfied nod in the mirror, she flung her cloak around her shoulders and slipped into the hall.

Movements in the house stilled and silence hung in the hallways as if under a death pall. Laurel tiptoed into the nursery and gently wrapped her son in a warm blanket. Was that the sound of a step on a creaky board? Catching her breath, she waited several soul-wrenching moments before she moved. Finally, she crept down the hall and escaped the house.

The moon provided light to mark the roadway and she kept close to the edge so she might duck into the cover of the trees if necessary. Laurel walked until nearly dawn and her arms ached with Jamie’s weight. She truly thought about discarding her valise but dared not abandon basic necessities for Jamie and herself. Only a few more miles and she would reach the little village of Hasleford where she intended to catch a ride on the London mail-coach. Nearly at the end of her endurance, her pace slowed as a farm wagon rattled down the track and pulled up beside her.

“You needing a ride?” The stalwart farmer’s stare measured her from her cloak-covered head to her boots. “Been turned off from your position I reckon. Heading to London town. That all right with you?”

“Yes, thank you.” She flung her valise up first and with Jamie clutched tightly to her chest, she forced her trembling legs to climb abroad.

“What’s this? Ye little mite I take it.”

“My son.”

He bobbed his head and clicked to his team. The heavy wagon moved forward. The motion of the wheels and her exhaustion over took her in spite of her determination to remain alert. Laurel nodded off several times before jerking awake again. She forced her head up as the wagon approached the outskirts of London.

Dawn broke over the city as the voices of street venders hawking their wares rang in her ears. She watched linkboys with empty chairs scurry passed and maids with baskets rushing to the market to be first to pick over the day’s fresh offerings.

“I turns here. Tain’t far to the market.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him and climbed out of the wagon.

“Take care now, young missy.”

Laurel nodded and turned down the road toward a nearby hackney stand. Boarding a cab, she glanced over her shoulder and rubbed at the tightened nerves in her neck. She wouldn’t feel safe again until she and Jamie were on a ship bound for America.

Chapter 13

“I hope we locate that little tart before Adron is even aware that she’s missing,” Rhonda snapped and flung her head back.

“What pushed her to flee?” Edmond inquired.

“I’ve no notion what she’s up to.” Rhonda shrugged. “I’m overjoyed that she fled,” she said with an irritated bite in her voice. “Blame can more easily be placed on her shoulders.” She patted his knee. “If we discover her destination as we planned, everything will be perfect.”

“Why did I let you talk me into this caper? I only hope I’m doing the right thing,” Edmond said in a troubled voice and shifted his feet restlessly. “I could be dismissed.”

“If we don’t get rid of Laurel and Adron discovers the truth about the jewels, you’re finished anyway. If we can determine her location and have her arrested for abducting Jamie, the little widow will never survive the scandal. Adron will turn his back on her and we’ll be safe. No more questions.”

“I hope you’re right.” Edmond sighed and stretched his legs across to the other seat.

“After she’s arrested, he’ll take Jamie completely away from her, cast her aside for causing a scandal and he’ll stop his absurd obsession to search for the Will. Everything will be exactly as we planned.” Rhonda caught his hand in hers and squeezed his arm against the side of her breast.

“Laurel will be sure to visit her aunt but I don’t expect her to stay there long. She’ll understand that Adron will be after her in a flash.”

“What if he catches her first?” he questioned.

“Don’t say that. We’re hours ahead of him. All will be well.” Rhonda grinned. “Edmond, you can use your charm on the little old lady and she’ll tell you exactly what you want to know about Laurel. If you’ve lost your touch, servants are usually a fount of knowledge—for a price if necessary.”

Edmond grinned and kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll do my best.”

Her smile widened. “You must lay a complaint against her for abducting Jamie in Adron’s name. That will carry more weight.”

“I’ll have a couple of Bow Street Runners after her when we know her location.”

Rhonda clasped her hands at her throat and she allowed joy to spread across her countenance. “That’s perfect, an official officer of the law to set the seal on her arrest. Nothing could be better.”

“That’s if we can find her.”

“Never fear. We’ll discover where she’s hiding. I won’t have it any other way.”

Rhonda leaned her head against his shoulder and laughed. “If he complains, we can always tell Adron we were guarding his interest.”

Adron briefly surveyed the Landings manor house before mounting the front steps. Three ewes nipped blades of grass on the south lawn, trimming the yard all the way to the low wall. All seemed in order when his gaze traveled to the oak and birch forest beyond. Nothing seemed amiss. The mellowed rose-colored brick of the manor complete with fresh white trim pleased him. Well satisfied, he struck the brass knocker and entered when the butler opened the door.

Adron turned to the aging butler, narrow of face and form with thinning gray hair. “Ah Grimes, a word with you in the library please.”

The butler inclined his head and followed Adron. Adron sank into a chair behind the polished desk, bare expect for the inkstand complete with quill and glanced at Grimes.

“Milord. How may I serve you?”

“Grimes, I’m undertaking a bit of investigation of the events here starting with Lord Laningham’s return home from the war. After his arrival, can you remember any unusual activities, visitors . . . ?”

The butler maintained his aloof demeanor. “The usual callers, friends of Lady Rhonda’s, the neighbors and the vicar.” He hesitated before adding, “Those all come in by the front door. I couldn’t say as to the number that enter through the service entrance.”

“But you do know of at least one or so beside the usual trades people?” Adron questioned with raised brows.

“Mr. Percy Dimty’s uncle, Oather Dimty comes and goes as he pleases. He has the look about him of Mr. Percy, same eyes and hair. Built along the same lines only older.”

“Why is that note worthy?”

“You asked for anything unusual. He’s about and not at the appointed hours for visitors. He’s not received in the parlor but he appears in places where he has no business. There’s no telling what he gets up to at night after the family have all retired. He pops in and out even when Mr. Percy is otherwise occupied.”

“Any others?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“That will be all for now. Thank you.”

After his little chat with the butler, Adron determined now more than ever he must inspect every inch of the place, something he had failed to do on his previous visit. Jotting down a few questions he intended to ask the cook when he interviewed her, he folded his paper. She might know if anyone besides servants or trades people had entered the house and how often.

Adron headed down the hall straight for the estate office where he expected to find the steward, Percy Dimty. The distinct odor of snuff laced with mint lingered in the entrance to the office. Laurel had mentioned snuff smelling of mint and Adron’s hopes were raised, but when he glanced around Percy was alone. “Busy I see.”

“This is a surprise but I’m never too busy to receive you, Milord.” Percy rolled to his feet and with a quick bow waited until Adron chose a chair before taking his seat again.

Adron studied Percy’s moss-green eyes behind his wire-rimmed spectacles noting the uncomfortable darting glance. His thick, dark russet hair, combed back from his forehead, presented the appearance of a well-groomed man of business. A few years older than himself, Adron had always trusted Percy’s serious demeanor, assuming that represented his character, at least until now.

“Have you had the opportunity to examine all of Robert’s papers since the last occasion I made the request?”

The tips of Percy’s ear turned red. “Certainly.” He lifted his chin and his voice became defensive as he continued, “But I still haven’t located a later Will appointing his wife the beneficiary instead of Lady Rhonda. Not even among his private correspondence.”

“Don’t you find that peculiar?”

“Decidedly so, but I can’t create what doesn’t exist,” Percy excused.

“Certainly not. Let’s come back to that at a later time. After Lord Robert’s death, I understand Lady Rhonda asked you to lock the family jewels in the safe. Is that correct?”

A darting glance, startled and mixed with fright met Adron’s questioning gaze.

“I locked the entire collection in the safe a few days after the funeral,” Percy stammered. “Everything appeared fine.” He shifted uncomfortably and grimaced.

Adron raised his brows. “You’re satisfied nothing untoward has happened to any of the jewelry?”

“Absolutely,” Percy said with confidence.

“Exactly so.” Adron slowly inspected Percy’s face and after a prolonged interval he leaned over to offer his snuffbox. “Try my sort.”

“No thank you. I never touch the stuff.”

“Strange. I thought I smelled snuff when I first entered the room. Perhaps your uncle indulges?”

Percy’s eyes widened and he swallowed. “Yes, he does. Is there a problem?”

“No matter,” Adron drawled and rose. “I’ll let you get back to your work. When I have more questions for you, I’ll let you know.”

Later that evening, ensconced in the library with the Laningham housekeeper of longstanding, he inspected her mature, broad frame and merry brown eyes. He glanced at the notes on the desk in front of him.

“Mrs. Parsons, I believe.”

She bobbed her head.

“Tell me of the happenings here at Landings for the last several months. Your impressions of everyone and everything.”

Mrs. Parsons shrugged and the twinkle in her eyes disappeared. “What do you want to know?” She added quickly, “I like my position.”

Adron leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers together. “Anything about the workings of the place you care to remember.”

“You should ask Percy Dimty.” Under her breath she mumbled, “He says as how he knows best.”

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Dimty. In your position, you hear things. I had supposed Lord Laningham would have made a Will in favor of the mother of his heir. Perhaps you know something?”

“Not my place to know about such, Milord, but I don’t hold with skullduggery. Not even a little.” She sniffed and her brows pleated in a frown. “His lordship would never have left his little wife with nothing. Not Lord Laningham. Mr. Dimty says there is no Will but I for one don’t believe him. Him and his superior ways, he acts like he’s lord of the manor just because he’s gentry. Still, I don’t hold with carrying tales.”

At that moment Percy Dimty entered the library and glanced about, his hard scrutiny landing on Mrs. Parsons. “Pardon. I didn’t realize you were in here.”

Adron smiled dryly. “As you see. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.” He waited until Percy removed himself.

“Come now. In your position, you must have heard rumors concerning the estate jewelry?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the door. Her tone softened to a cautious level. “You should ask Lady Rhonda or Mr. Dimty.”

“But as housekeeper, you’re privy to much. Have you heard or seen anything unusual?”

“I have no truck with jewelry. Did you question that uppity woman of Lady Rhonda’s? She should know if you manage to believe a word she says?”

He raised his brows. “I intend to once I return to Kendlwood. She suffered from a bad head when last I was there.”

Mrs. Parson stared at him and seemed to judge her words carefully. “I’ve served this family most of my life. I started as the upstairs maid when the twins was in leading strings.” She spoke with pride adding, “I rose to housekeeper a goodly spell later. Lady Rhonda is mistress here now and has been for some few years. She pays well.”

“What of Lady Laurel Laningham? Surely she is considered the mistress here since she was Lord Laningham’s wife.”

“When he went off to war, his lordship left Lady Rhonda in charge with Mr. Percy as steward. He said his bride was young and inexperienced so Rhonda remained as mistress until he returned. By then he was too weary to pay any attention to things around him. Poor soul.”

“Not a very satisfactory arrangement from Lady Laningham’s stand point. Weren’t there any squabbles or trying to out-jockey one another?”

She leaned forward and her lips thinned. “I’m saying again, ask Lady Rhonda and Mr. Dimty. Lady Rhonda did pretty much as she pleased and of course as steward he backed her every move as was proper. All she had to do was smile and he couldn’t oblige fast enough.”

The housekeeper settled back in her chair and crossed her arms over her bosom. “Lady Laurel Laningham had to fight everyone. After Lord Laningham passed, she kept to herself quite a bit, her and the little one. If you ask me that was a fatal mistake letting that uncle creep about at all hours without so much as a by your leave. Course I don’t know as she ever saw him.”

“The uncle, Oather Dimty I think he’s called. He’s been mentioned before. Do you have anything you wish to add about him?”

She snorted. “Well I might as well give my opinion. His eyes are strange and kind of frightening like as if he’s daft or he’s a wild animal or something. He was always quick to duck out of sight. That’s all I know,” she finished with a nod and a stubborn set to her mouth.

“One last thing, did you ever happen to observe Lady Laurel Laningham with the estate jewelry?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Certainly. His lordship said as how it made him feel better to see her in a proper gown with jewelry about her pretty neck. But not since he passed.”

“Very well. I may have more questions later but if you think of anything before hand, let me know. You’ve been most helpful.” With that he nodded in dismissal and watched her exit the library.

Adron studied his list again and added a note beside the housekeeper’s name. Before he summoned the next person on his list, Horace rapped on the doorframe and entered. His features were drawn as if he dreaded the tale he had to relate.

“Milord.”

Alarmed, Adron stood and strode around the desk. “Horace, what’s amiss?”

“Lady Laningham done took the little one and flew the coop so to speak. I searched the road. Even had a look see at the stage office and mail-coach.” He threw up his hands. “Nothing doin. Ain’t a body seen hide nor hair of Lady Laningham or the little tyke.”

“When did this happen?”

“She must have left sometimes last night. That flighty nursemaid was having a fit when she couldn’t find Jamie this morning and all hell broke loose. I nosed around some then headed straight here.”

“Saddle two fresh horses. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

In short order both men were in the saddle and kicking their mounts into a gallop. Sparks flew as horseshoes struck the stable yard’s cobblestones. Leaning over his stallion’s flying mane, Adron urged his horse to greater speed with Horace following close behind. Glancing at the sun he calculated the hour to be well advanced and with every tick of the clock Laurel could be farther away. Ever since Horace arrived at Landings with the tidings of Laurel’s disappearance, he had been in a towering rage under-laid with blinding fear. His chances of finding her diminished with every hour that passed and a surge of anger gripped him.

What a simpleton he’d been telling her of his intentions to marry another. Adron blame himself for her flight. Naturally her pride would dictate that she curse the day he’d entered her bedchamber but he hadn’t expected her to leave and certainly not to take his ward as well. Knowing her, he should have realized that was exactly what she would do. The urgency to find her bunched his muscles with tension. Where to look?