Moonlight & Mechanicals (10 page)

“Yes, my lord.” She gave him a mock bow to go with the teasing formality and hid her excitement at being given responsibilities beyond fixing machines. It was a remarkable display of trust in someone not born to the Order. For a female employee, it was nothing less than staggering. Wink all but ran back to the cloakroom to trade her work smock for her bonnet.

* * *

“Blast and bugger.” Liam dropped the copied pamphlet to the center of his meticulously tidy desk. He ran one hand through his hair, mussing the already rumpled dark waves before looking up at Wink. “Sorry. Language.”

Wink snorted. “Please. I could out-curse you any day of the week and you know it.”

He nodded his acknowledgement. “Have a seat, if you want.”

“Why thank you for such a thoughtful offer.” She sat on the tiny wooden chair that was all Liam could fit in the space besides his desk and files. “Piers wants to know if you need him to put on a rosette.”

“Piers? Hell no.” Liam grimaced. While Wink and Tom had been almost grown when he met them, Piers had been a boy of ten, thin and sickly. It was impossible to think of the lad as an adult, even though he was now almost as tall as Liam. “Sorry again. But Piers? Really? Isn’t he busy studying Latin and Greek and calculus? Chatting up barmaids, if nothing else? He shouldn’t have time to get involved in this mess.”

“I know. It’s hard to remember he’s eighteen.” The rueful twist of her lips acknowledged the difficulty. “But he is grown now, and far from helpless. He’s as good with a rapier as I am, and better with a cutlass. He hasn’t even had pneumonia in two or three years, despite the degradation in air quality.”

“I’ll run up and talk to him. If there’s no other way…well, I’ll stick close and keep an eye on him, if it comes to that.” She had to know Liam would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat before he’d let any harm come to one of her brothers or sisters. He couldn’t even have explained why. That’s simply the way things were.

“I know.” A wistful trace of sadness flitted across her face, before she tapped the pamphlet with one gloved finger. “Now, Kendall has made me the Order’s official liaison on this business. So what else do we know? Are you certain the attack is to be at the races?”

“Not at all.” What the bloody hell had Kendall been thinking? Was he trying to drive Liam out of his mind? Working day to day with the woman he lo—lusted after—no, that wasn’t any better—was liable to reduce him to a gibbering idiot. “But that’s the only upcoming royal appearance we’re certain will include Her Majesty and several of the others.”

“Well, you’re a younger son. Has anyone approached you?” Her foot tapped on the floor, a mannerism so ingrained that he doubted she knew she was doing it. “How do you stand this place? It’s so tidy it feels like an operating theater.”

A chuckle escaped his chest. “I’ve seen your workshop, remember? A pigsty is tidy compared to you. At least in here, I can find things when I need them.” Her creations were genius, but the woman was as messy as could be.

She shrugged. “I can always find what I’m looking for. It’s other people who don’t understand my organizational system.” The boot tapped again. “And you didn’t answer the important part. Have you been approached?”

“Not even obliquely.” Liam shook his head. “I’ve been spending most evenings in my various clubs, but no one has said a word to me so far. Of course, most of society knows I’m with the police.”

“Hmmm.” Now her fingers drummed a beat on the desktop. That was Wink—constitutionally incapable of being still. “I can see where that might cause a problem. Still, the clubs might not be where they’re lurking. Have you gone to any balls? Musicales? Played the fortune hunter?”

“I have sufficient fortune of my own, thank you very much.” Fortune hunter? Him? Hell, no. “Besides, I’ve made no secret of my aversion to marriage.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, sometimes people change their minds. We can’t all be as intractable as you are. I know you hate those things, but that might be where you’ll find your insurgents. Lady Tregarth is having a musicale tonight. And her daughters can actually play, so your ears won’t be assaulted too badly.”

“Tregarth—isn’t that an Order name?” Liam had met a Knight named Tregarth, or at least he thought he had. “Surely the man’s too young to have musical daughters?”

“You mean Sir Robert? Yes, he is. This is his aunt, an Order widow. I think she’s about Papa’s age, and her twin daughters are the same age as Piers, just out this year. They’re pretty and well-off, so the fortune hunters will be there in droves.”

Liam sighed, his head already throbbing at the prospect. He clutched a lifeline. “I haven’t been invited.”

Wink’s smile was the same one she used when besting one of her brothers at chess or fencing, and Liam began to feel like a fly beneath a magnifying glass.
Ah, but she’s magnificent.

“I have,” she said. “Pick me up at nine.”

No, no, no!
“What about MacKay? Don’t you have plans with him tonight?” Liam didn’t think he could stand to be the third wheel. It was bad enough to help the other man court her. He didn’t need to watch it up close.

“Connor’s working tonight, and Nell has rehearsal.” She reached across the desk and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring along George as a chaperone. I promise your virtue is safe with me.”

Liam looked down at the bronze dog sitting by her feet. As if he could sense Liam’s regard, George’s head tilted up. He moved closer to Liam and laid his head on Liam’s leg, like a retriever begging for a scratch. Even his rubber tongue lolled like that of a living animal. “Some chaperone.” Liam patted George’s head and the brass eyelids closed as if in bliss. If there was such a thing as a soul, he’d swear Wink had infused one into George. And who knew? She was that gifted. Perhaps she had. “Fine. I’ll pick you up at nine. But you’re not to stick your nose into anything, do you hear? All you do is attend the musicale. Leave the investigating to me.” Even as he said the words, he knew they were pointless. Wink would do exactly what she pleased, however she pleased to do it. All he could do was be there to control the extent of the damage.

She nodded her head, her manner brisk and businesslike, now that she’d won. “Now, what’s the status of your investigation regarding Eamon Miller?”

* * *

Several hours later Liam had wrestled himself into evening wear, a feat that had to be much easier for those who employed a valet. Wanting to appear as if he were trying to impress, he picked Wink up in a hired coach rather than a hack.

Once they arrived at a pleasant house just outside of Mayfair, he allowed Lady Tregarth’s clockwork footman to take his top hat and walking stick, along with Wink’s velvet wrap. An unwarranted stirring of pride filled him as he watched her glide into the ballroom on his arm. While it wasn’t her usual brisk stride, she didn’t mince or flutter like so many of the silly young things. She held her head up as if daring anyone to point out that she didn’t belong. Of course no one did. The Order’s place in Society was such that no one would risk gainsaying them about the adopted Hadrians being the orphans of Merrick’s old school chums, missionaries who’d been killed in the provinces. The names of the school chums and which provinces were conveniently never mentioned. Even though most of the ton assumed the four were Merrick’s bastards, not a word was ever said. With enough money and an exalted enough position, such things didn’t matter so long as a suitable story could be papered over them.

“Elizabeth, Emily, have you met Inspector McCullough?” Wink hugged a fair-haired girl in a pink gown, perhaps five or six years younger than herself, then did the same to the other half of the matched set, this one in lilac. “Liam, meet Miss Elizabeth and Miss Emily Tregarth, and their mother, Lady Tregarth.”

Liam bowed over each extended hand. The second girl was perhaps half an inch shorter than her sister, and her hair held just a hint more gold, her skin a shade darker as if she was fonder of the sun. Their doting mama beamed and held out a hand to Liam after shaking Wink’s. “Delighted, ladies.” Or he might have been, if the widow hadn’t been eyeing him as if he were fresh meat. The girls seemed harmless enough, but their mother… Liam took hold of Wink’s arm again as soon as was remotely polite. Hiding behind her skirts might not be the gentlemanly thing to do, but it seemed the most prudent thing to do.

They moved into the ballroom, and Liam automatically took note of all possible exits and the occupants of the room. There were a number of familiar faces, most he’d met through the Lake, MacKay or Hadrian families, but a few he’d met through work or at one of his clubs. The ballroom was modest, but pleasant, with gas chandeliers and a cherry parquet floor. Gear-driven fans blew a cooling breeze of filtered air across the space, mitigating the odors of sweat, macassar oil and the heavy perfumes worn by men and women alike. A refreshments table stood on a wall opposite the receiving line, and rows of wooden folding chairs occupied half the room, facing a low platform where a piano and violin waited.

Wink, slim and lovely in spring green satin that turned her eyes the same shade, chatted easily with a couple other ladies, so Liam took his leave and wound his way through the crowd to the refreshments table. A cluster of young men gathered in a corner. Recognizing a couple younger sons among them Liam took a glass of claret and ambled over.

“Finally tired of being a bachelor?” Lord Eustace Irons, second son of a marquess and a complete waste of oxygen, elbowed Liam in the ribs, hard enough to have staggered a human. “Not a grand fortune with either of these two fillies, but nothing to sneeze at. Enough for a man to get by on, at least.”

Liam still wanted to clock Irons for his remarks about Wink at her presentation, but remembered his role and merely shrugged. “Adequate, I suppose.” As the girls were Order orphans, Liam imagined they were well set-up. That organization took care of its own. If the father hadn’t been wealthy, one of the Lakes would have seen to dowries for his daughters. Liam gazed over at the girls again. “They’re not hard to look at. I only hope they can actually play, as we’ve got to listen to them tonight.”

“And possibly longer.” Eustace gave a snide chuckle. “Though that Hadrian piece you came in with is a different matter. Even more money there, but is she worth it? Wouldn’t mind getting her on her back, but I think I’d have to gag her first. Far too many opinions on that one. Wind power, indeed.”

It took a significant effort for Liam not to shove the bastard’s teeth down the back of his throat, but he managed and shrugged again. He was here to play fortune hunter as much as the idea rankled. “Eh. She doesn’t bother me. And yes, she’s well dowered.”

“Northland has money, true, but there are so many brats,” protested a soft voice from beside Eustace. “Are you sure the bastard—I mean adopted—ones get equal shares? I’d want that in writing before courting a termagant like that one.”

Eustace laughed and Liam forced himself to grin. The meat pie he’d had for dinner sat like lead in his stomach. “Quite sure. I’ve spoken to the man.” Not a lie. He spoke to Merrick on a regular basis, just not about his daughter’s dowry. He made a mental note to deal with these two personally as soon as this case was over. For the moment, he turned to Eustace’s friend, a short man with heavily oiled black hair and a curled mustache. “Pleased to meet you. The name’s McCullough.”

“Ah yes, second son of an Irish earl, forced to work for the police.” The dark-haired man cast Liam an assessing look.

“Well, a man’s got to do something to bring in blunt when the pater won’t give him an allowance.” Liam sighed as dramatically as he could. “A copper has a lot of…opportunities to line his pockets you know.” A faint taste of bile filled his mouth at the implication that he was living off bribes.

“Can’t argue about that,” the other man said. “Such a shame, though, to have to work at all. My name’s Kersleigh. Grandfather was a damn duke, but since I was his daughter’s get, he didn’t leave me a
sou.
Castoffs of society, that’s what we are.” His complaint had the sound of a practiced speech, perhaps part of a regular campaign.

“True enough.” Liam sipped his claret. “Perhaps we ought to band together. Form a younger sons and distaff descendants club.”

Kersleigh’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, and Eustace nearly dropped his glass. Yes, these two were up to something. Liam mentally filed that away as Lady Tregarth approached the podium and everyone moved to take their seats.

“Must go do my duty.” Liam lifted his glass. “If you gentlemen would like to meet me at one of my clubs, I’d enjoy speaking to you further.” He picked up a cup of punch from the table and eased his way back to Wink.

To his surprise, the music wasn’t intolerable. Miss Emily was an accomplished violinist, while her twin played the piano with creditable skill. Of course neither of them was as talented as Nell Hadrian, the only young musician Liam had listened to for years, but they didn’t assault his ears, either. Even Wink, tone-deaf by her own admission, tapped her toes to some of the livelier numbers.

Somehow, her hand wound its way into his as they listened and Liam, mindful of his ruse, couldn’t see a way to disengage it. It would be far too easy to grow accustomed to holding hands with Wink. This case was liable to kill him without the culprits lifting a finger.

* * *

“So what did you discuss with Eustace and his oily friend?” Wink leaned forward in Liam’s hired carriage and leaned her elbows on her knees, her elegant mien tossed aside. Oddly, she was even more beautiful like this, bright, eager and interested.

“The plight of being a younger son,” he replied. Lying to her was pointless—she’d ferret out the truth one way or another.

Her eyes widened. “Excellent. Do you think they’re involved in the rebellion?”

He wiggled his hand in a
so-so
gesture. “Possibly. They’re definitely on the hunt for money, any way they can get it. Stay away from those two, and make sure Nell does as well. I may have given them the notion that you two were well-dowered.”

She waved her hand. “Pfft. Common knowledge. I wouldn’t go near either of them with the proverbial ten-foot pole and neither would Nell, especially after what Eustace said at my presentation. Though if it helps your investigation, I could swallow my pride and dance with them a few times, see if I can learn anything.”