Good Earl Gone Bad (17 page)

“I know nothing of who killed Saintcrow,” said the earl once he'd downed the entire glass. “We completed our business and that was the last time I saw him. I wish I could help you.”

“Oh, do not be too hard on yourself,” Rosewood said with a smile. “I think you've helped me quite a bit.”

Rising, he gave a brief nod to Hermione, and just before he reached the door, he turned. “One more thing, Lord Upperton. Can you tell me whether Lord Saintcrow won anything from you besides the coaching pair?”

Lord Upperton nodded. “Yes, he did. A small estate in Lincolnshire. Is there a problem with that?” Hermione noted that he had the good grace to look guilty at having his earlier lie about the estate revealed.

Rosewood looked thoughtful. “No problem at all. I thank you both for your time.”

And with that, the runner left father and daughter alone.

*   *   *

Having finally secured a special license thanks to an uncle who was a bishop, Jasper turned Hector in the direction of Whitehall. He'd known the summons from Sir Richard Lindsey would come but was slightly vexed to have to face his mentor so soon after his unpleasant audience with his mother and sisters.

For he had little doubt that the spymaster would find Jasper's entanglement with Hermione problematic at best.

When he strode into the older man's office some time later, it was to find Sir Richard, scribbling notes as he read through a stack of documents. No doubt different ones from the ones that had littered his desk when last Jasper was there.

There was no mistaking the sharp glance the man gave Jasper when he entered the room. Clearly he was in for a dressing-down of proportions in keeping with the desk he now stood before.

“I am pleased to see you didn't ignore my request for an accounting,” Sir Richard said with a raised brow as he removed the spectacles he used for reading. “I thought perhaps you would wait until after the deed was done so that I would be unable to persuade you against your chosen course of action.”

“Not at all, sir,” said Jasper with a slight bow before he lowered himself into a wing chair opposite. “I have been busy, of course, but naturally my work for the crown is of the utmost importance.”

“I am glad to hear you say it, lad,” Sir Richard said, the slight burr of his native Scotland revealing itself as it always did when he was incensed. “For I did wonder for a moment whether your work for us was uppermost in your mind when you chose to sit down to a game with Lord Upperton. Especially considering that his home's proximity to the Fleetwoods was one of the reasons for you to further your friendship with Lady Hermione. I hardly need to tell you how difficult it will be to watch the Fleetwoods' comings and goings if Lady Hermione lives with you in Grosvenor Square.”

“Logistics aside, sir,” Jasper said with the plain-speaking he knew his mentor valued from him, “I could not, as a gentleman, allow her father to marry her off to someone else, either. At least I am acquainted with the lady, and despite my misgivings about her strong opinions, I am rather fond of her. Marriage to another man would not only lead her to a great deal of unhappiness, but might also remove our only connection to Fleetwood.

“And,” he continued, knowing that this was his true trump card, “she is a member of the Lords of Anarchy. Which will be quite useful if we are to discover whether there is some link between the club and the ring of thieves.”

“If, that is,” Sir Richard said with a frown, “your suspicions about Fleetwood's dealings with the Lords of Anarchy are correct. We have not, to date, seen the man attend any of the meetings or ride out with the club.”

“That is because he works with them not as a member, but behind the scenes.” Jasper leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I do not know what it is that Fleetwood has to do with the club, but my gut says it's important. And I am quite sure now that the club itself is dealing in stolen horses. I overheard Lord Payne admit as much at the Comerford ball when he thought he wouldn't be heard.”

Jasper told him about the conversation among Lord Payne and his cohorts, putting special emphasis on the bit where they discussed orders and deliveries. “My gut says that Fleetwood wasn't just a curious horse enthusiast the day he visited Hermione's stables, either. He was looking to see which horses she had there. Perhaps because the horses in question had originated with their ring of thieves.”

“Your gut,” Sir Richard said with a shake of his head. “I know your famous gut hasn't let me down before, Mainwaring, but I must tell you that I am far more comfortable when it's your head for calculations and figures that you ask me to trust. I can see the numbers and calculate them in my own, slow, way. Your gut I must take on faith. And that, I do not mind telling you, is something that I have a bit of trouble with.”

It was an argument of long standing between the two men. Though Mainwaring's nearly incredible ability to speed through calculations was one of the reasons Sir Richard had sought him out in the first place, he had his own doubts about the bone-deep convictions that led him to conclusions that might in other circumstances seem mad. But Jasper lived with both abilities for so long that he had learned to trust himself. He could not explain how he knew there was a connection between Fleetwood and the driving club, but he was damned sure it was there.

“I realize that my marriage to Lady Hermione might present a divergence from our initial plans for surveilling the Fleetwoods,” he said now, “but it's a matter of honor, sir, and I will not leave the lady in the lurch for you or the crown.”

“Well,” Sir Richard said with a frown. “That is a fine speech, but I would like to know how you intend to continue the investigation once you are wed to a lady who seems damned close to the suspects in this inquiry and might even be guilty of Saintcrow's murder.”

“That's not fair, sir.” Jasper was willing to listen to Sir Richard's chastisement of him, but he was damned if he'd let the man accuse Hermione of murder. “She had nothing to do with it. I know. I was there.”

“What do you mean, you were there?” Sir Richard's eyes blazed. “Explain yourself!”

Jasper told him about how Hermione and her friends had descended upon Saintcrow's residence the day of the murder and found him already dead.

“So you do not know, in fact, that the three ladies are innocent of the crime,” Sir Richard said. “Just that when you arrived they were upset from seeing it.”

“You don't really believe that three gently reared ladies are capable of slitting a man's throat over a pair of contested horses?” Jasper asked, aghast.

Sir Richard tilted his head. “I do not, as it happens. I think it rather more likely that he was killed by one of his confederates. But I am not the only one you need to convince of it.”

“No,” Jasper agreed. “There is a runner who has been questioning Hermione and her father over the matter. He isn't positive that she was one of the three veiled ladies that were seen coming from Saintcrow's house on the day of the murder, but he has his suspicions, I think. And I do not think he will be dissuaded by our marriage. If anything, he seems like the sort who will work harder to prove she did it because of her elevated rank.”

“Then do what you can to protect your lady, man,” Sir Richard said with a vehemence that startled Jasper. “I am content with what you've learned so far about the theft ring. Just continue to watch Fleetwood and maybe look further into his possible connections to the Lords of Anarchy. It cannot be a coincidence that a club of driving aficionados has such close ties to a horse-theft ring. If I were horse mad and wanted access to the best carriage horses I could find without paying full price for them, I might not look too closely at where my steeds came from.”

“It has crossed my mind that Lady Hermione's horses, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, might not have the most pristine ownership records.” Jasper hated the thought, especially given how heartbroken Hermione had been when she lost them. But it was a possibility he had to look into. “She's asked her man of business to send copies of the bill of sale and we're still waiting on that. In the meantime, I've purchased them from Saintcrow's heir, so if they do turn out to be stolen we can see that they are returned to their rightful owner.”

“Good man,” Sir Richard said with approval. “I hope for your lady's sake that they turn out to be what they purport to be.”

 

Thirteen

Hermione was seated in the drawing room in Half-Moon Street, debating whether to send a note to Jasper about Mr. Rosewood's interview with her father, when she heard the knocker on the front door strike a tattoo.

What if Rosewood had come back? she wondered, nervous energy coursing through her. Lord Upperton had left for his club, and Jasper's warnings that she wasn't to speak to Rosewood alone again rang in her ears.

She would simply tell Greentree that she was not receiving callers at the moment. That should be enough to send the fellow away. He couldn't expect everyone to welcome him into their homes with open arms.

But when Greentree presented the caller's card to her, it was not whom she'd expected.

Curiosity and a shade of trepidation ran through her even as she said, “Send her up, Greentree. And please have cook send up some refreshments.”

“The Countess of Mainwaring,” intoned Greentree before the lady stepped into the chamber.

For the barest moment, the two ladies surveyed each other.

Lady Mainwaring was very obviously Jasper's mother. He'd inherited his blue eyes and fine features from her. As well as the curls in his hair, though hers was a much lighter shade of brown. And whereas he was nearly six feet tall, his mother was shorter than Hermione. But it was evident from the way she held herself that she was accustomed to deference from everyone she met.

“Lady Mainwaring,” Hermione said, stepping forward to offer the other woman her hand. “What a pleasure to meet you. I hope you will come in and make yourself comfortable.”

The chilly smile the other lady gave her did not bode well for their future relationship. “Thank you, Lady Hermione,” said the countess with a strained smile. “I hope that you do not find my visit overly intrusive.”

She gave Hermione's hand a limp squeeze before lowering herself gracefully to one of the armchairs separated by a small table. “What a pretty little room this is. I am quite surprised to see it so well furnished. I had heard your father had chosen to let the Upperton town house, and thus supposed your rented rooms would be quite gauche. How pleasant it must be for you to reside here.”

Hermione blinked at Lady Mainwaring's rudeness. “Indeed,” she said when she found her voice. “Quite pleasant.” Clearly Jasper's mother had come with a purpose in mind. She wished most heartily that the lady would reveal that purpose as soon as possible.

“My son informs me that he has made you an offer of marriage and that you have accepted,” the countess said without preamble. “I must request that you withdraw your consent immediately. Before too many people hear of it. I realize that it came about because of some silly card game, but it will be much easier to play that off as a foolish male mistake than rumors of promises made between the two of you.”

If Hermione had been expecting to be welcomed into the Mainwaring family with open arms, she saw now that she had been horribly mistaken. Which was a shame considering that she had no mother of her own now. She had hoped that she and Jasper's mother would develop the same kind of rapport that Leonora enjoyed with her mother-in-law, but it was clear that it was not to be.

She was saved from immediate reply by the arrival of the tea tray. Taking comfort in the ritual of pouring for them both, she was calmer when she responded to Lady Mainwaring.

“I realize that the suddenness of our match must have come as something of a shock to both you and Lord Mainwaring's sisters,” she said coolly. “But I'm afraid that both our minds are quite firm on the matter. It took some convincing for me to see the wisdom of it at first,” she continued, “but I am quite convinced that it is the best choice for both of us. Though I do take your objection quite seriously.”

Lady Mainwaring set her teacup down on the table with a rattle. “If you took my objection seriously, Lady Hermione,” she said with pursed lips, “then you would do me the honor of respecting my wishes. It's clear to me that both you and my son are determined to rain as much scandal down upon our family as possible. Which you, no doubt, are accustomed to considering who your father is, but despite my son's propensity for cards, we are not yet as notorious as the house of Upperton, and I should like to keep it that way.”

Hermione had to bite her tongue to stop from telling her future mother-in-law just what she thought about that lady's assessment of her notorious family. Instead, mindful that for a little while anyway, she would need to live under the same roof as Lady Mainwaring, she took a fortifying sip of tea.

“I am sorry to hear you feel this way, Lady Mainwaring,” she said with more deference than she felt. “But I am afraid that though your displeasure is evident, it was not you but your son who asked me to join your family, and unless I am vastly mistaken
he
is the Earl of Mainwaring, and therefore the one to make such a decision. I do thank you for stopping by and I hope that you were not too inconvenienced by having to journey all the way to Half-Moon Street.”

She rose, watching in amusement as Lady Mainwaring's face grew pinched in light of Hermione's little speech. Finally, seeing that her hostess was not going to apologize, the countess got to her feet.

“I had hoped that you would listen to reason,” she said haughtily, “but it is clear to me now that you are just as headstrong as the gossips say. Do not think that this is the last you will hear of this.”