Love's Harbinger (4 page)

“No.”

“Where have you looked?”

“In the desk and the cupboards. There’s nowhere else to search.”

“They didn’t waste much blunt in putting up a good front, did they?”

“That seems to be the style in business nowadays,” she answered tartly, remembering his own office.

He gave her a lazy smile and said, “Your point, madam. I would have space about me that is lean, to misquote the Bard.” He then proceeded to search those same places Faith had, with more thoroughness but with no better success. “I’d say offhand he doesn’t plan to return. The only thing he left behind is the record of purchasers and the lease for the office. A three-month lease. That pretty well tells the story—it expires the first of June, so Elwood has flown as well as Lord Thomas.” She glared at him, but did not deign to point out his error. “Come, I’ll take you home.”

“I am not going home. I am on my way to a rout party.”

She picked up the lantern.

He placed the records under one arm, put his other hand on her elbow, and led her out, leaving the door unlocked behind them. “A rout party? I admire your courage, ma’am. Grace under pressure is an admirable trait. Is Lady Lynne waiting in the carriage? She must be planning to break our appointment.”

“What appointment?” Faith demanded suspiciously.

“We have planned a tête-à-tête for this evening. I had some hopes you were to be included. I’m running a little late,” he said, and pulled out a pocket watch. “Eight twenty-five.”

Faith looked at the clock on the wall and corrected him. “It’s only eight-twenty.”

He didn’t even bother to look at the clock. “It’s wrong. My watch is always right. I lead a split-second life,” he said, and returned the timepiece to his pocket. It had an unusual fob that looked like a twisted piece of some dark metal. “I’ll return you to Lady Lynne.”

“She isn’t with me. I’m going with a friend—I have to stop at her place.” She looked at him uncertainly, disliking to ask a favor. “Actually, my aunt doesn’t know I’m here. I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell her.”

“Then you should treat me more civilly, milady. I don’t usually perform favors for people who try to bash me over the head.”

“I didn’t know who you were.”

His feline eyes shot a mocking smile at her. “Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

“Yes, I would have taken more careful aim, Mr. Delamar.”

They reached her carriage, and he opened the door. “You still wouldn’t have hit me.” He laughed. “Beau Douro trained his guerrillas better than that.”

Her head flew up in surprise. “What? Were you with Wellington in the Peninsula?” she asked.

“I’ve been many places, including Spain. Do try, if you can, to close your mouth. It is unflattering that you are so shocked at my being an—a soldier. Besides, open-mouthed ladies look so very witless, don’t you agree?”

She closed her mouth, only to pull her lower lip between her teeth. Faith had the greatest admiration for military gentlemen, and she knew that those who had been with Wellington in the Peninsular War had been outstandingly fearless. “Not shocked, only surprised,” she said. Embarrassment lent a softer tone to her voice and a becoming air of uncertainty to her manner. “I should have guessed by your complexion . . .”

“Ah, no, that only told you I am part blackamoor.”

“What was your position in the army?”

“I always like to be in the forefront of any endeavor when trouble is brewing,” he answered with studied obtuseness.

Not an officer then, she surmised, and changed the subject. “How did you know I was there in the office? And how did you know it was me? Even before I lit the lantern, you used my name.”

“I smelled the burning oil. Lanterns don’t light up by themselves, and when I was close to you, I recognized your perfume—a light lilac scent. Of course many ladies use that fragrance, but you did speak before I was certain it was you.”

“You seemed to move around so quickly, too, like a cat.”

“As I said, I am trained in warfare. Even a lady has been known to pull a trigger, so I was a little cautious. I am sorry if I frightened you, Lady Faith. I’ll let you get on to your party now. Your aunt will tell you what plans I have to retrieve—er, the money,” he finished, and was sorry to terminate their conversation on that reminder of Lord Thomas.

She pokered up immediately. “Good evening, Mr. Delamar.”

He closed the door and the carriage drew away. Her stop had made her late in calling on Mrs. Coates, but by luck the dame had not left home yet, so Lady Faith avoided the unpleasantness of having to enter the party unattended. It was bad enough without that. She was the object of much interest, a little ill-concealed pity, but no rush of attention from chivalrous gentlemen. It was mainly dowagers who quizzed her about Lord Thomas. Her rehearsed speech was repeated so often that she was tired of it. In the end, she took a glass of wine and slipped into the vacant library to await the time when she could reasonably ask Mrs. Coates to leave.

She went to the farthest, darkest corner of the room and sat alone in the shadows, thinking. Mr. Elwood and Thomas had run off. It seemed she was the only woman in London who believed Thomas was innocent, but she still clung to the notion that Thomas had been tricked into behaving so foolishly. It was Elwood who was the creator of this wretched scheme. The whole idea was his; Thomas had said he had only been invited in to permit Mr. Elwood access to people who could afford to buy the shares—and possibly to be the scapegoat when Elwood fled? This new idea began to intrigue her. Of course, Thomas was a scapegoat! When he found out he’d been used, he’d come back and tell the whole story. Was it part of the plan for him never to come back, then? How could Mr. Elwood be sure of it?

It came to her like a horrible bolt of lightning. The only way to be sure Thomas never told the truth was to do away with him! Elwood meant to kill Thomas! That was why he had sent him out of town with his trunk. He was going to lure him to some abandoned spot and murder him. And here she sat at a stupid rout party, wasting her time. She shot up from her seat and looked helplessly around the empty room. She must get home now, at once, and tell her aunt what she had figured out. She hurried toward the door and nearly capsized Mr. Delamar as he came in.

Chapter Three

“So here you are!” Mr. Delamar exclaimed. “I had begun to worry you’d gone haring off on some new mad scheme.”

Surprise lent a sharp edge to her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Your aunt told me where you’d gone.”

“But how did you get in?”

A satirical smile lifted his brows. “I was invited, ma’am. Some people, you see, mistake me for a gentleman. Not all the ladies have your discernment.”

She realized she’d been rude, and even regretted it, but the more important matter prevented her from wasting time on social niceties. “I have to go home at once.”

“Your aunt had a much better idea. She suggested I act as your partner, to inform the world you were considering jilting Thomas.”

“I have no intention of jilting Thomas! I must go home at once.”

“I see you have some monumental new notion you want to share with your aunt. I am completely in her confidence. Tell me instead—while we dance. Just one dance. I promised Lady Lynne.”

The beginning strains of a waltz filtered along the corridor. She looked at Mr. Delamar and saw such determination that she decided to humor him. He was an immensely determined young man, and if she could convince him of Thomas’s innocence and of his danger, he would be a great help. Who better than a bloodhound to chase after that sly fox, Elwood, and bring him to justice? The
Harbinger
would later do an excellent job of explaining Thomas’s innocence.

“Very well,” she said, and put her hand on his arm. When they entered the ballroom, the hostess darted toward them. It was not Lady Faith she was honoring, but Mr. Delamar. “Guy, I was wondering where you’d got to! I was afraid you’d only come to jot down a few notes for your paper and run off again without dancing. I have half a dozen young ladies eager to meet you.”

“All in good time, Mrs. DeGrue. Lady Faith has promised me this waltz.”

“Beware of him!” Mrs. DeGrue smiled spitefully at Faith. “He will pick all your secrets out of your brain and publish them in his wicked paper. Such secrets as you have, too, Lady Faith! I look forward to reading about them.” She went along, laughing, to the next couple.

Faith kept her tongue between her teeth, but the effort caused her to turn pink.

“Don’t pay her any heed,” Mr. Delamar said, and led her on to the floor.

“I don’t waltz very well,” Faith told him bluntly. “I was only given permission at Almack’s to try it two weeks ago, and Thomas doesn’t waltz.”

He inclined his head and smiled. “Are you trying to confirm my opinion of Lord Thomas’s poor sense? The waltz is the greatest thing to come along since damped gowns.”

“And equally unhealthy,” she said stiffly.

“Are you speaking of physical health, Lady Faith, or moral? I admit I was considering the damped gowns from an observer’s point of view. For ladies, they are unhealthy in winter, but a waltz can do no harm in any season—to physical well-being, I mean.”

Faith became aware that many people were watching them as they danced. She was no longer under any misapprehension that she was the one of interest. They were staring at Mr. Delamar, and not with disapproval.

“Well?” he asked. “Come now, I expect a counterargument, Lady Faith. Surely you didn’t call the waltz unhealthy without some substantiating evidence.”

On those few occasions when she waltzed, Faith kept careful track of the count. One, two, three—one, two, three. She tried to think of a reply and lost track of the count, which caused her foot to come down rather hard on his. “There, you see, I told you it was dangerous,” she exclaimed.

“No, you only said unhealthy. There is a difference; danger is more enjoyable. You must pardon my rattling on so nonsensically. What was it you wanted to say about Thomas?” He looked at her eyes, large with fear, and felt a quickening of interest.

“I think Mr. Elwood is going to murder him.”

“What?”

It was surprising enough that he missed a beat and she landed on his foot again.

“It stands to reason. He only brought Thomas into his scheme to reach people who could buy the stocks and to make him the scapegoat when he ran off with the money.” She explained her thinking in some detail, which played awful havoc with their waltz.

She expected an outright contradiction and was gratified when he heard her out thoughtfully, asking a few questions to draw her out. “It’s not impossible,” he admitted, “but in any case, I shouldn’t think the deed has been done yet. Lord Thomas left alone this morning. I did some snooping around and learned that Elwood was seen at his office late this evening. He’s miles behind Lord Thomas. That’s why I went there for a look around. If you had cooperated with me this afternoon, we’d have Elwood under lock and key by now. Why didn’t you tell me you knew where his office was?”

“Because you believed Thomas was guilty. How could I help you persecute him? He’s my fiancé.”

“I’m not persecuting anyone. I’m after the truth. That’s what makes the
Harbinger
rather special, if you can forgive my boasting a little. Well, the thing to do is to go after them.”

“Have you any idea where they’ve gone?”

“Only an idea, but also an idea where to discover more clues now that the evening traffic is quiet. We must go now. Who is your chaperone? I’ll make your excuses.”

“Mrs. Coates came with me. I have to deliver her home.”

“Leave her your carriage. I’ll take you to Berkeley Square.”

“There won’t be any cabs in the street at this hour,” she pointed out.

Again that satirical light burned in his eyes. “I skimp on the necessities and allow myself the luxury of a carriage.”

With a memory of his miserable flat above the paper’s office, she was by no means sure he could afford a carriage, and if he drove one, she hadn’t seen it on Tottenham Court Road. “I didn’t see your carriage at Elwood’s office.”

“I left if a block away. A good tip for you to follow next time you are illegally entering an establishment. I saw yours, which is why I was at pains not to enter by the front door and so alert your groom.

“I’m not actually in the habit of entering establishments illegally. I doubt I shall use your tip.”

He refused to take offense. “That would account for your mishandling of the situation,” he said blandly. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Coates and get your wrap. Would you mind having a peek to see whose husband Lady Jersey has requisitioned this evening and what she’s wearing? Mam’selle Ondit is doing her in the next issue. It’s time she was repaid for her unconscionable rudeness to everyone.”

The triviality of this request, coming in the midst of more serious matters, was distasteful to Faith. Would Delamar really be of much help when half of his mind was on gossip? But she checked on these details for him and was able to report that Lady Jersey wore an unbecoming puce gown and stood up with Lord Castlereagh.

Mrs. DeGrue flew after Mr. Delamar when she saw him getting his coat. “You’re not leaving already!” she complained. “Why, you just got here.”

“Duty calls, ma’am. You must know the
Harbinger
has many parties to cover during this busy season, but I doubt I shall report any of the others to be such a stunning squeeze as yours.”

Thus mollified, she let them go with no further pestering. As they went to the carriage, Faith felt some word of thanks was called for as Delamar was curtailing his regular business for her. “I daresay you would prefer to be going on to some ball or other instead of taking me home.”

“The social scene is not my real interest. It’s the hook to get ladies to buy the paper. Once it’s on the sofa table, their husbands read the more interesting pieces. Originally, the
Harbinger
did a deal of such trivial stuff to encourage circulation, but it’s shrunk to Mam’selle Ondit’s column now.”

“Still, it must require attendance at many parties to gather all Mam’selle’s gossip.”