Love Alters Not (36 page)

The butler nodded and retraced his steps.

Farrar closed the door and turned back to Peregrine. “You were saying?”

“Strip and stap me, Tony! What the
devil
did you do with it? I
know
it was in your waistcoat pocket when we walked up the steps!”

“I think you do not appreciate that I have a magician's blood in my veins.” Farrar chuckled. “Come. I'll tell you, but first let's set your wonderful sister's mind at ease. She was fairly beside herself with worry for her suffering brother. Will you fly into a rage an I offer my arm?”

Peregrine was too tired for pride and accepted the offered aid gratefully, but hobbled along, grumbling, because Farrar was so uncommunicative.

As they entered the music hall, Leonard hurried in to confirm that the soldiers were out of sight.

“Then I want the candles left burning and curtains open in the kitchens and library, but draw all the other downstairs curtains,” said Farrar. “And lock all the doors and windows. We want no more uninvited guests tonight!”

Leonard hurried away. Dimity had run to Peregrine meanwhile, and now sat holding his hand solicitously as he sprawled on the sofa.

Farrar glanced at them, then went to his aunt. “Are you all right, ma'am?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are they gone?” Horatio Glendenning came hurrying down the stairs. “What the deuce has been—”

Lady Helen stood, holding up one hand. “No, no, I beg you! I have no least wish to know what is going on and am only grateful that we seem to have survived our unpleasant invasion. I must ask you all to excuse me, for I am very tired, and shall go to bed. Miss Cranford, do you care to come up?”

Dimity indicating that she would prefer to wait until Piers and Chandler came home, my lady bade them all good night, and Farrar ushered her to the stairs. She took the candle he lit for her but did not at once leave him, standing on the bottom step and staring sombrely at the small flame.

“I am sorry you were subjected to such an ordeal,” he said gently. “Were you very much frightened when Colonel Fotheringay came?”

“Not at first. I was grateful, for that handsome young captain is a bullying creature—loud and violent. And violent people always frighten me. I dread to think what might have happened had the colonel
not
come when he did, for Miss Cranford had smacked the captain very hard, and—”

Farrar tensed. “
What?
Why? What did he do to her?”

She saw rage in his eyes and said thoughtfully, “He tried to prevent her going to poor Leonard, who had been tripped. He was rough and crude, but the colonel put a quick stop to it. Farrar, I do not ask any details, you understand, but—is poor Glendenning in terrible trouble?”

His blazing wrath cooled. “He is over the worst of it, I believe.”

“Thanks to you.”

“No, no. I did very little.”

“I think that is not so, but I am glad you were able to help. He is a splendid young man.”

“Yes.”

“And deeply in love with Miss Cranford, I suspect.”

His thick lashes lowered, concealing his eyes. “Yes.”

“She is a delightful girl,” my lady went on gravely. “It would be very sad if … grief were to spoil her life.”

He looked up at that and said with his wry smile, “It will not come to her by any of my doing, I promise you.”

She watched him steadily for another moment, then started up the stairs.

“Aunt.”

“Yes?” she asked, over her shoulder.

“Do you still mean to leave me?”

She hesitated. “Not while Miss Cranford is here, certainly.”

“Thank you. Why did you never
ask
me whether—whether I killed Harding.”

She turned her head away and the hand holding the candle shook a little.

Not turning, she answered almost in a whisper, “I think because—because I was so very afraid of … of what would be your answer.”

“And so judged me on hearsay.” He reached up to clasp her arm and said wistfully, “Oh, my dear, how
could
you think it of me? Harding and I had our differences, but—”

“Differences!”
She whirled at that. A flame lighting her eyes and her voice low and fierce, she said, “Do you take me for a blind fool, Farrar? Harding
hated
you! And to my sorrow I know you fully reciprocated his feelings!” And she turned before he could say another word and went swiftly up the stairs.

For a moment Farrar stared after her, then, rather heavily, he went back across the long room to join his guests.

Leonard had returned with a tray and was handing glasses around, wherefore conversation was restricted and Peregrine, looking ready to explode, was necessarily silent.

The butler assured his employer that his orders were being carried out and that only one maid had succumbed to hysterics. Farrar thanked him, apologized for the rough handling he had received, and sent him off to bed.

When the man's footsteps had died away, Peregrine uttered an exasperated, “At last! Mitten won't say anything, and Glendenning don't
know
anything! For Lord's sake—”

Farrar stood, holding up his glass and looking at Dimity with an admiring smile. “Gentlemen, I give you a toast.”

“Toast, is it,” groaned Peregrine, struggling to his feet again. “Burn it, Farrar, if you ain't the most infuriating—”

“Two toasts,” Farrar corrected, his smile broadening. “To a consummate actor!” He bowed to Peregrine.

“Too consummate,” said Dimity, sipping her wine. “Though I might have known it was not like you to give way, dearest.”

“I
was
good, wasn't I?” said Peregrine with schoolboy pride. “Always thought I'd like to have a crack at treading the boards.”

“To Perry,” said Glendenning, bewildered as he drank the toast. “What did he do?”

“Oh, that's right, you missed it, Tio. Well, Farrar whispered—'Diversion!'—so I went into a death scene would have made Garrick envious!”

“Why?” asked Glendenning.

Peregrine frowned. “You've a point. Why, Tony?”

“Which brings me to my second toast,” said Farrar. “To a lady who is as brave as she is beautiful, and without whose quick wit, you and I, Cranford, would most assuredly be en route to our deaths tonight!”

Dimity blushed as all three men toasted her, but Peregrine said a disgruntled, “Mitten's a good girl, but be dashed if I can see what she'd to do with it.”

“Your truly magnificent ‘death scene' gave me the chance to get a message to her,” said Farrar.

“What a rasper!” exclaimed Peregrine. “You were nowhere near her!”

“He looked at me,” said Dimity.

Peregrine's jaw dropped. “He …
looked
at you? Oh, come now, Mitten! I've heard of speaking looks, but—”

“'Twas a
very
speaking look,” she said with a twinkle. “And then he looked at Swimmer in such a way that I knew he wanted me to do something with her, but I could not think—”

“Swimmer!” interpolated Peregrine excitedly. “You were holding her when we come in, Farrar! Did you shove the cypher down her little gullet, then?”

Farrar laughed. “No, you fiend!”

“Cypher?” Glendenning who had been looking downcast for several reasons, brightened and cried, “Never say you were able to
find
it?”

“By Jove, but we were,” declared Peregrine. “Or at least, Farrar was. Though where the dratted thing is at this moment I've not the faintest notion.”

Dimity turned away and reached into her bodice. “Here it is,” she said, holding the cypher on the palm of her hand.

“Be damned!” Peregrine took the fateful piece of parchment. “It is! Then—where had you hid it, Farrar?”

“In Swimmer's riband.”

“But—when? 'Twas in your pocket when we come up the steps. How could you possibly…?”

Farrar chuckled. “You'll recollect you remarked on my stableboy's having been so prompt when we rid in? It struck me as odd, and he seemed stiff. He's usually a garrulous brat but he said not a word. When he took Poli's reins, his hands were like ice, though the night is not cold. I realized then that he was very afraid. And when Leonard let us in and was so solemn, I knew something was wrong. I think he has never opened that door to me without a smile. So I wound the cypher into the riband as we stepped inside.”

“Jolly good,” said Peregrine. “Thank God we have it safe again!”

“Amen!” said Dimity. “How I have worried! An it was lost, t'would have been my fault.”

Ever loyal, Glendenning exclaimed, “Fiddlesticks! You have been wonderful, as always, Mitten, and I'm more obliged to you than I can say.”

The tenderness in his face when he looked at Dimity was betraying. Farrar thought of his aunt's words, “…he is a splendid young man … and deeply in love with Miss Cranford…” There could be little doubt but that she had been right. He stifled a sigh. Tio, he told himself, heavy-hearted, would be a very good husband for her.

“For the life of me,” muttered Peregrine, frowning over the poem, “I do not see why this silly thing could not have been committed to memory. So much simpler.”

“But quite impossible, apparently. Treve was adamant that it is to be destroyed only in the event of imminent death or arrest.” Taking the parchment, Glendenning added, “Farrar must have thought very fast.”

Farrar explained, “I daren't take the chance of waiting, you see—”

“I do see,” cried an irate voice from the steps. Piers strode to join them, Chandler beside him. “A fine stew you left us in while you went jauntering off,” he said, the twinkle in his eyes belying the indignant words.

“Oh, never mind about that, you block,” said Peregrine with a grin. “Tony got it for us!”

When the excitement that followed that announcement had died down, the entire tale had to be told once more. At the finish, Piers muttered, “I remember that clod Lambert. Obnoxiousness personified.”

“Well, we got rid of the beastly fellow,” said Peregrine rather inaccurately. “Now you must tell us what happened after we debunked.”

“Not much—but noisily,” said Chandler. “You and your mixture, Perry! Those blasted dogs were quite berserk.”

Farrar asked, “Did Green suspect we were outside?”

“No,” said Piers. “He saw all the cats and assumed
they
had maddened his pets, and when he tried to whistle them in, they were both slobbering over Perry's revolting jar and had to be literally dragged away from it.”

Peregrine laughed, delighted.

Watching him narrowly, Piers added, faintly irked, “What I cannot comprehend is why you subjected my twin to that long ride home. He'd have done a good deal better had you left him so he could come back with us in the carriage as we planned.”

“I was going to leave him. Only—” Farrar stared rather fixedly at his glass. “Green's dogs killed my spaniel because she was always close by and I—stroked her sometimes, you know … And at the last minute it dawned on me that—well, you had leaned on my arm, Cranford. All the way to the rear court.”

There were several gasps. Piers whitened and swore under his breath.

Also losing his colour, Peregrine whispered, “My dear Lord! They'd— If you'd rid off and left me … they'd have…” His hand went to his throat.

“You would have had no chance,” Dimity whispered. “No chance at all! At this very moment—you might … Oh, Perry!”

Peregrine exchanged a grim glance with his twin.

Piers stood and crossed to face Farrar, who at once also came to his feet. Piers put out his hand. “You've my most grateful thanks, Farrar. He's a perfect dunce, but I've become accustomed to him. Dashed good of you.”

Farrar retreated a step, eyeing the outstretched hand hesitantly. “It was—really, only a sudden thought, and—and not anything—”

“Oho, was it not,” exclaimed Peregrine. “I wish you might have seen him, Piers, riding back for me right under the jaws of those monsters! And between my foot and his arm he couldn't pull me up, but had to dismount so as to get me into the saddle. Jove, but for a minute or two I feared you'd never get mounted in time, Tony! 'Tis
my
life you saved and I value it, so do not be saying it was really nothing!”

Piers snatched up Farrar's hand and wrung it firmly. It had been a long time since any man had done so and, scarlet and overwhelmed, he had to turn away.

The other men looked at each other and at once began an intense discussion regarding the final disposition of the cypher. Glendenning's assertion that he was the only Jacobite among them and that he would handle the matter was brushed aside. He was, Piers pointed out, already suspect and Holt or Lambert would only have to catch sight of him in the vicinity of Charles Albritton to come at the root of it. Dimity suggested that since Mr. Albritton was a clergyman they might simply go to church on Sunday and hide the cypher in a Bible and leave it in a pew.

“You'll go well escorted by military, I fancy,” put in Farrar, having recovered himself.

“Besides which,” said Peregrine glumly, “Bibles and the collection plate would be the first place they'd look, or so I'd think.”

The discussion continued at some length, ideas being put forward and as speedily rejected, until Chandler glanced at his pocket watch and said, “Past one o'clock! Farrar, you should be in bed. The rest of us at least do not have to fight tomorrow.”

Dimity thought ‘Tomorrow!' and shivered. Standing, she said, “I shall bid you good-night, gentlemen.”

They all rose and started toward the stairs, Dimity walking between her brothers.

In a low voice Farrar said, “Tio, I've an idea—of sorts. But I'm afraid it would mean that you—er, entrust the cypher to me.”