Lord and Master (21 page)

The blackguard. And to think she had been pleasant to him at the museum and on the street! She had even invited him to call upon her on the morrow. What should she do now? She had not been able to bring herself to report the incident to the authorities, fearing Miss Shelby would somehow be dragged into the bumblebroth.

Perhaps in the morning she would send word to Lord Ravenswood and ask him to call. Maybe he would know what to do.

Thoughts of the earl reminded her of the pleasure she had experienced with him at the fair. Images came into her mind of his brilliant smile and his dark eyes.

She bit her lip anxiously, though, when she remembered being alone with him in the gypsy’s tent. Her cheeks burned at the remembrance of how tears had formed in her eyes when she thought his lordship might kiss her, and then had not.

Uncomfortable, Daphne shifted positions. She must stop this nonsensical thinking about Lord Ravenswood. It was obvious Miss Blenkinsop’s company rated higher than hers in the earl’s opinion. The proprietary air with which Miss Blenkinsopp regarded him spoke volumes.

Fighting tears, Daphne addressed the cat. “Well, Mihos, you and I will be parting soon.”

The cat watched her closely, a grave expression in his amber eyes.

“Unless I am mistaken, the earl has found a countess for Raven’s Hall. He will declare himself to Miss Blenkinsop and then take you away to live with them. I-I shall miss you.”

At these words Mihos stretched out a paw to Daphne’s chin in the same affectionate way he often did with Lord Ravenswood.

The small gesture of love was too much for Daphne. Holding the cat close, she allowed her tears to flow.

* * * *

Unaware of the perils befalling Miss Kendall and her companion, Lord Ravenswood shut himself in his library upon his return from the fair.

He did not indulge himself in drink as he had on Saturday. Rather, he contented himself by drumming his fingers on his desk and staring morosely into the fire. He managed to pass a few hours this way with little variation.

A treacherous part of him wanted to go to Miss Kendall. He felt inexplicably drawn to her this evening.

But a mocking voice inside his head asked,
what do you have to offer her?
The decision had been made to ask for Miss Blenkinsop’s hand in marriage. Any further association with Miss Kendall would be pointless.

Hard on the heels of these depressing ruminations came the memory of Miss Kendall’s sweet face. Of her bewitching green eyes. Her pink lips. Then his mouth hungered for hers, and the desire to go to her became strong once again.

Round and round his thoughts went like children on a carousel.

At an advanced hour, the door to the library opened, and Eugene walked in to stand in front of the desk. “Master, you refused dinner. You have been sitting here alone for hours. How can I serve you?”

The earl looked up at the older man’s somber countenance. All at once Anthony realized that despite his meddling ways, the manservant genuinely cared for him.

“Thank you, Eugene, but there is nothing I require tonight. Tomorrow, though, you may wish me happy.”

Eugene’s eyebrows rose almost into his turban. Hope soared in his chest. “Wish you happy? Is that not the phrase used to congratulate someone on a betrothal?”

Anthony nodded.

Eugene clasped his hands. “I knew you would see the light, master. Miss Kendall is everything a woman should be. Intelligent, kind, generous, beautiful—

Lord Ravenswood scowled. “What nonsense are you talking, Eugene? It is Elfleta Blenkinsop whom I have chosen to be my bride. I shall call on Mr. Blenkinsop in the morning. I have already indicated to Miss Blenkinsop and her mother that I will do so.” He gave a short bark of a laugh. “No doubt, if I do not appear, Mrs. Blenkinsop will come looking for me.”

Eugene leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. “But, master, only think! Miss Blenkinsop is lifeless. A mere fashion dummy. She cannot converse, she has no sparkle, no mind. Not to mention a body like a pole. Do you really want to share a bed—”

“That is quite enough, Eugene!” Lord Ravenswood snapped, rising to his feet. “I am going to marry Elfleta Blenkinsop. Nothing can stop me, I tell you. I shall not require your assistance this evening. Good night.”

An openmouthed Eugene watched his lordship march from the room. The manservant’s shoulders slumped. It appeared defeat was at hand.

Then his eyes narrowed. Despite his master’s convincing words, Eugene detected a reluctance on the earl’s part. Was there still time to stop the betrothal?

It was too late tonight to confer with Leonie. But speak with her he must. He would go to Clarges Street first thing in the morning. Together they would come up with a plan.

Eugene’s lips curved in a small smile. He climbed the stairs to his room to begin his nightly prayers. Thank the gods he had Leonie. His wise lady. What would he do without her?

Daphne entered the breakfast room a few minutes past eight the next day. She wore a pretty morning gown of willow-green muslin. Biggs had woven the green ribbon with the flowers embroidered on it that Lord Ravenswood gave her through her dark red hair.

As soon as she seated herself, Holly, Folly, and Jolly presented themselves at her feet, acting the part of her adoring slaves. Of course, one had to feed slaves, as the scamps well knew.

Slipping them scraps under the table, Daphne drank chocolate and managed to eat a muffin before retiring to the drawing room.

Mihos had been pacing, as was his custom when agitated, but when Daphne entered, he stopped and swaggered over to her eagerly. “Grraow!”

Daphne chuckled. “Yes, I have brought your plate of kippers. Terrible for you to have to wait, but I know you cannot like dining with the dogs.”

She placed the plate on the floor by the sofa, sat down, and watched Mihos attack the food.

James limped into the room to tend the fire. “Mornin’, miss. I see you’re spoilin’ that striped devil again.”

“Not a bit of it, James. Mihos has proven not only to look like a tiger, but to have an appetite like one. We simply must keep up his strength.”

James smiled as he went about his work.

Daphne glanced at the clock. Was it too early to send a message to Lord Ravenswood to call on her? She wanted to tell him of the break-in. No, she shook her head slightly. Better to wait a little while.

“Has Miss Shelby been down yet, James?”

The footman paused. “No, she hasn’t, miss. Odd that. Miss Shelby usually feeds the dogs real early-like.”

“Leonie is probably sleeping late after the contretemps of last night. As for the dogs, oh, those miscreants. I have been feeding them when I come down as they always behave as if they are starving! The wicked, wicked creatures.”

James laughed. Daphne opened a fresh copy of the
Times
and began to read. Mihos had finished eating and was licking a paw and using it to clean around his whisker pad.

This comfortable scene was shattered moments later when Biggs burst into the room. “Miss! The most dreadful thing.”

Daphne’s heart jumped in her chest. She rose, and the newspaper slipped out of her fingers onto the floor. “What has happened?”

Mihos looked in alarm from one to the other.

“Miss Shelby had not yet rung for anyone to help her dress, so I went along and peeped into her room. Just to make sure she was all right, what with everything that happened last night,” the maid explained.

Daphne nodded encouragingly.

Biggs took a deep breath. “You can imagine how I felt when I saw her bed all made up like she never slept in it! I found this letter addressed to you, miss, propped on the fireplace mantel.”

Daphne accepted the missive with shaking hands. She ripped it open and read silently.

Dearest Daphne,

It seems I have brought Bad Luck down upon your undeserving head. You were too considerate of my feelings to say so, but I know last night’s terrible events were all My Fault. You should never have taken pity on me and taken me into your household, although I shall forever be Grateful that you did. Please try to think of me Fondly, and if you should have the occasion to speak with Eugene, relay my Deepest Thanks for his friendship. I fear I shall never see anyone I love again.

Yours, Leonie

Daphne stood there, blank and much shaken. “She has run away,” she told the waiting servants. Daphne was loath to reveal the intelligence that the housebreaker had been after an ivory figurine Miss Shelby had been accused of stealing. “’Tis a misunderstanding.”

James came to stand by his mistress. “Where could she have gone, miss?”

“I never heard Miss Shelby speak of any family. Did you?” Biggs inquired.

Daphne pressed her fingers to her temples. “She does have family, but I cannot believe she would return to them. I gained the impression they mistreated her.”

She dropped her hands in dismay. “Heavens, I must find her. Miss Shelby cannot be left to think she is not wanted. James, bring around the traveling coach. Biggs, pack a bag for me, and bring my dark green cloak.”

“But, miss, where are you going?” Biggs asked.

“I am not certain yet. I need a few minutes to think. When I have decided, though, I want everything to be ready. James, you shall accompany me.”

“Yes, miss.” Both servants hastened away to do their mistress’s bidding.

At that moment the doors to the drawing room opened, and Eugene stood on the threshold. The manservant bowed. “Good morning. Miss Kendall. I have come to see Miss Shelby.”

Mihos dashed across the room to greet Eugene, who bent and stroked his head. “Hello, little tiger, I am flattered by your attention.”

“Eugene!” Daphne exclaimed, coming to meet him. “How glad I am to see you. We desperately need your help.” She handed him the letter Miss Shelby left. “Leonie has gone.”

“Gone?” he asked, his voice rising in shock. Daphne motioned to the letter, and the manservant bent his turbaned head to scan the lines.

“No, no, my wise lady,” he muttered, agony plain in his voice. He glanced up sharply at Daphne. “What does she mean when she speaks of last night’s events?”

Quickly Daphne outlined their confrontation with the housebreaker, whom she recognized, and her belief that Miss Shelby must feel responsible for the incident. Eugene listened intently, then asked, “This Mr. Phillips kept asking for the ivory cat figurine? That is the one Miss Shelby was falsely accused of taking from the duchess?”

“Yes—” Daphne stopped and tilted her head consideringly. “Well, Mr. Phillips never actually said ‘the ivory figurine.’ I just assumed that was what he meant. His exact words were that he wanted the ‘stolen cat statue.’”

Eugene froze. “What did this Mr. Phillips look like?”

“Tall, very blue eyes, brown hair streaked heavily with blond.”

Eugene closed his eyes in dread.

“What is it?” Daphne demanded. “Have you thought of something? You must tell me, Eugene.”

The manservant opened his eyes. His calm expression belied his inner turmoil. “Perhaps Mr. Phillips was sent by the duchess. We may never know, and at this time it does not matter. Miss Shelby must be found.”

“Exactly my feeling,” Daphne said fervently.

“We need more information. You can help, Miss Kendall, by going to Miss Shelby’s room and seeing what she has taken with her.”

Daphne wanted to protest, but nodded and hurried from the room.

Once she was gone, Eugene turned his back to the door. The cat looked at him raptly. The manservant said, “Mihos, center your energy with mine. We will use our powers to find Leonie.”

“Grraow,” the cat agreed softly.

Eugene raised a hand to touch the eye-pin in his turban and concentrated with all his might. The cat sat tall next to him, his tail wrapped around his paws, his striped body swaying slightly.

The clock ticked away the seconds in the quiet room. Eugene breathed deeply and steadily. Slowly a picture came into his mind of Leonie sitting in a gypsy camp, talking with the fortune-teller from the fair.

She was with the gypsies.

Eugene dropped his hand and sunk into a chair. Mihos hopped up on the sofa and lay down watching him.

Eugene sat deep in thought. Thank the gods Leonie was safe. But for how long? Who was to say the gypsies would allow a stranger to stay among them?

He rained a number of curses down on his own head. All of this was his fault. When Miss Kendall had described Vincent Phillips, Eugene knew at once he was the thief in the museum in Baluk. The man sought the Bastet statue, not the ivory cat figurine!

Phillips must have remembered his face from that day in Baluk when Eugene had taken the Bastet statue, then traced him to London and somehow found him.

Eugene jumped to his feet in agitation. He recalled the feeling he had as he and Miss Shelby had been talking at the Egyptian Hall. The sense of being watched. Eugene would wager Phillips had been spying on them, and something they said led him to believe Miss Shelby had the statue of Bastet.

Everything fit together.

Eugene felt a stab of guilt. If only he had not taken Bastet, Leonie would not be in trouble today.

But no, that line of reasoning was senseless, he decided. He had been guided to take the Bastet statue by a higher power. If he had not done so, Lord Ravenswood would not have met Miss Kendall, nor he Leonie, and heaven only knew what would have become of Mihos.

An urgent need to find Leonie seized him. His mind worked at a great speed. He did not want to take the time to relay the events to Lord Ravenswood. His stuffy master would wonder how he knew Miss Shelby was with the gypsies, and precious time would be wasted while the earl questioned the theory. And there lay the additional danger that he would not be convinced.

Ordinarily, Eugene judged, Miss Kendall would stop and question his statement as well, but right now she was not thinking logically. Her emotions were ruling her head. She could be persuaded to take him to the gypsy camp. Leonie might need Miss Kendall’s assurance as well as his own to convince her to come home.

If they left right away, they would not be slowed by Lord Ravenswood.