Never to Part (16 page)

“Quiet, love,” Lady Laurel urged, her hand on his arm. “She looks at thee.”

“Balderdash, she can’t see me. She isn’t even a Blanchard.” Lord Ricman looked at the baroness and saw her gaze was directed where he stood.

“Neither am I,” his wife said saucily. “Nevertheless—”

“Aye,” he half groaned. Lord Ricman followed her to the far corner of the room. Leaning against the wall, he folded his arms
.

Richard watched his mother’s gaze move to the far corner of the chamber.
Now what? The dammed poltergeist again
? “Mother, what is it?”

Opening her narrowed eyes wide, the baroness shrugged. “I think Lord Ricman is upset by the choice of
obtuse
in my observation.”

“Lord Ricman? Mother, are you trying to tell me you see—”

“Of course not, my dear. What is there to notice that you could not also see?”

“Exactly my question,” Richard threw back

“My question is why you continue to flirt with insipid girls?’”

His lack of temper surprised Richard. He ignored her jab and returned to the subject at hand. “Mother, other than the style what do you understand from the last verse?” he asked.

The baroness reread the split verse. “Rather odd,” she murmured. “Conqueror. Sage. Willow. Paramour.”

Lady Laurel glanced at her husband. “Thou didst not?”

“’Tis an obvious clue,” Lord Ricman insisted.

“Only if they knew about Elizabeth Petworth! How could they possibly know?” she accused angrily.

Chagrin crossed her husband’s face. “Then we’ll have to tell them about her.”

Hands on hips, Lady Laurel rounded on him. “Thou couldst not have found a better way than to mention that woman?”

“She pursued me,” protested Lord Ricman.

“And thou had not a care for that haughty blond—”

“Watch your tongue, love,” he warned.

Both were startled by the sudden presence of the baroness as she walked through them and turned. They plunged through the wall.

Lady Laurissa’s eyes widened as she halted in the centre of the library. “My goodness.” She cocked her head as if listening intently.

Richard rose and went to the baroness. “Mother, whatever are you doing?”

“You heard nothing? Sensed nothing? I saw them . . . arguing. Something about Lord Ricman being pursued. I don’t think Lady Laurel liked that.”

All but rolling his eyes Richard said, “We are alone.” He stretched out his hands and turned in a slow circle. Seeing her dubious expression, Richard strode to the door, opened it, then shut it. “No one skulks outside the door.”

“I am fully aware of that,” Lady Laurissa said irritably. “’Tis inside this room that I—I—” The baroness bent and picked something up from the floor. Holding out her open hand she faced her son. “See the laurel leaves? They were here with us. They are trying to tell us something.”

“Spirits? Spectres?” Richard regretted the words when his mother’s features brightened. “’Tis only a legend, Mother,” he said tiredly. “The first Blanchards’ spirits do not inhabit our world.”

“You had best hope they do,” the baroness snapped obtusely. She walked slowly back to the desk and read the third verse again. Tapping it, she said, “If we cannot learn who the paramour is, I doubt this clue can be solved.”

“’Tis unimportant,” Richard told her, hoping he was right.

“Whether you believe in it or not, the treasure exists. We need their help to find it.” Lady Laurissa paused at the door.

“I was very pleased to see you dance with Daphne Stratton at the Mortomer’s. Mayhaps you should ask her to join you in the hunt for the treasure. Not only does the first clue mention ‘harmony’ which means more than one must be involved, but she is a very clever gel.”

“Mother—”

“A wise man heeds his mother’s advice.”

Daphne contemplated the ledger’s figures. If only the ones she needed to know were writ there. Geoffrey’s gambling debts. There was no way to figure a total. If Mr. Blanchard’s hints were correct in this at least, the amount was beyond their present means even if they sold Trotter House and handed over her dowry.

Does my dowry even still exist?

The question brought to mind Wadick and his sickening advances and Richard. Elbows on the desk, Daphne leaned her forehead against her hands and massaged her brow. Instantly she was back in the Dremore library, Richard lips on hers, his arms about her.

The liberties she had permitted without objection.
What he must think of me.
Her behaviour perplexed Daphne.
Was the gambling fever that gripped Geoffrey like this
?

She leaned back in the chair, grateful that her brother had, at least temporarily, put a halt to his demand she wed Wardick. She was more thankful that Richard had agreed the treasure was to go to the finder. If only half of it would be enough perhaps some chance would remain of salvaging what Richard thought of her.

“Daphne,” Saddie said from the doorway. “Mr. Blanchard is here. He brought Master Geoffrey home.”

Her stomach twisted with the all too common wrench of fear and not a little anger. “Geof? How is—”

“Rather the worse for wear. I asked Mr. Blanchard to take Master Geoffrey to his chamber. Thankfully he is doing so.” When Daphne headed towards the door, Saddie held up a hand.

“It’d be best if you remain here.”

“Then have Mr. Blanchard come to me in the salon,” Daphne told her. She sat on the faded settee clasping and unclasping her hands. With determined resolve she pushed aside the image of Richard and concentrated on her distrust of Eldridge.

There is no kindness in Mr. Blanchard’s aura. Why did he bring Geoffrey home? Why does he ‘act’ the friend
?

The assumption of intimacy in his manner and conversation troubled her. With his stated need for a rich bride why bother with her and Geof? Could he use them to hurt Richard? Would he?

Striding into the salon Eldridge went to Daphne and took her hands. “I am sorry it took so long to get Stratton to bed. When I realized he had dismissed his man I saw to him. ‘Tis not right you be burdened with the task.”

“What happened?” Daphne asked. In her anxiety she did not seek to free her hands.

“Only extremely foxed,” Eldridge said. He released her hands and drew forth a wad a small pieces of paper from his pocket. He held them out. “Copies of his vowels—his debts of honour.”

Daphne found his aura a confusing swirl. Black, browns, and dark blues, present in abundance, boded ill and there was a hint of triumph. She gingerly took the papers. “What are these?”

“Vowels from last eve and who knows when.”

Heart plummeting Daphne clenched the papers into an even tighter wad. “Tell me all.”

“Last eve after I left you, I went to my club. Your brother was there. He kept mumbling that he was all to pieces. From others I learned Dremore had introduced him to some friends.” Eldridge grimaced. “Geoff lost heavily to all of them, especially Dremore.”

“No,” Daphne protested, and saw his aura confirm her belief that he lied, at least about Richard. Richard had gone to meet Geoffrey last eve but had not. He had returned home early because Geoffrey was not at the club. Richard had kissed her with such passion, he could not have if— Daphne brought herself up short and stared at the papers in her clenched fist.

How could Geoffrey further endanger—no, complete our ruin?

“He did. You have the proof in your hand. I advise you to take Stratton from London before worse happens,” Eldridge urged.

Daphne thought of the money she had given the cook just this morn to pay the butcher. She inwardly groaned.

“If only I could do something,” fretted Eldridge.

“You brought my brother home. Geoffrey and I are in your debt for that,” Daphne said with reluctance.

“You are too generous in your praise, Miss Stratton.”

“Each day our debt increases,” Daphne said, almost distraught at the realization. She thought triumph flickered in his eyes. Daphne stood. “Please excuse me, I have much to do.”

Eldridge got to his feet as she did and bowed. “Please send word if you need further assistance. May I call this eve?”

“I shall not be home,” Daphne manufactured an excuse she could turn into reality. “We are to go to Phanshaw’s this eve.”

“Then I shall call at seven to make certain Geoffrey is able to take you. I shall escort you if your brother cannot.”

Before she could refuse Eldridge took his leave. Staring after him stunned by his increasing presumption, Daphne dammed the problems set on her by Geoffrey, Eldridge, and Richard in particular.

 * * * *

That eve when Daphne and a rather haggard Geoffrey entered with Eldridge she was instantly certain of Richard’s presence. She glanced down at the blue gown she wore and grimaced. It was the same gown worn at Heart Haven when Richard first kissed her. Memories of their shared kisses erased this dismay and filled her with another. Had he solved the verse with his mother’s help?

“I hear music, Miss Stratton. Shall we see if there is dancing?” Eldridge asked and proffered his arm.

“Bound to be a dammed dull affair,” Geoffrey growled.

Daphne cast a glance about the room. “Isn’t that one of your school chums, Geoff? Why don’t you visit with him?”

“I can bloody well take care of myself,” Geoffrey snapped and stalked away.

“A dance will lift your spirits,” Eldridge insisted and Daphne acquiesced.

Following the strains of a country dance they entered the dining room and found the doors between it and a salon open to accommodate dancing. Daphne saw Richard. He danced with one of the ladies who had gotten her into trouble at Heart Haven.

I. Do. Not. Care
. The emphasis did not blunt the sting the sight provoked. The weight of Eldridge’s hand as he put it atop hers on his arm drew her glance to his very proprietary gaze. It chilled her.

“Before we dance would you fetch me something to drink?”

“You are more beautiful than she, Miss Stratton,” Eldridge noted as he removed his hand. “I will happily do as you ask. Just remember that your first dance this eve is mine.”

With a shudder and the fervent wish he would not return soon, Daphne glanced about for friends. Her gaze fell on Lady Dremore. Had the baron showed his mother the verse? Did she dare ask what information they had gleaned from it?

Daphne frowned.
Mayhaps I should have kept my half and spoken to Lady Dremore on my own.

“My dear, Geoffrey appears to be behaving. Why the scowl?” asked Sir Joshua Overton.

Startled to see him before her, Daphne stared. “But I thought you were otherwise engaged this eve.”

“I was able to get away sooner than expected.”

She smiled wryly. “I apologize for my rudeness.”

“I am pleased Geoff is not in the card room.”

Anger surged. Even if Geof didn’t go near another card room ever again they would not be able to pay his debts. She searched for words and found none.

“Don’t tell me the young cub has gambled away all that I loaned you,” Sir Joshua demanded.

“Much of it went to pay the most insistent duns,” Daphne said truthfully. “But I could not keep some of it from him. Nor have I had success in preventing him from gaming. If you have any influence in that quarter please help me.”

“I shall see what I can do,” Sir Joshua replied tersely.

As he walked away Daphne found Lady Laurissa at her side. “Good . . . good eve,” she managed.

“I must speak with you,” the baroness said. “I return to Heart Haven on the morrow.”

Daphne saw her frown. When she followed the direction of her gaze she saw the baron. “Does Lord Dremore go with you?”

“No, he prattles that the legend is foolishness.”

“The legend takes you to Heart Haven?” Daphne asked.

“My, yes. I oft sense the presence of Lord Ricman and his lady of late. I hope that at the Haven they will commune more overtly with me.” She put a hand on Daphne’s arm.

“You look shocked, Miss Stratton. Do you not believe ‘tis possible?” the baroness asked, an expectant gleam in her eyes.

At Lady Laurissa’s raised brows Daphne swallowed what she almost had blurted aloud. The dowager’s aura showed truth. “I do believe in the legend. The verses prove it.”

“What verses?” the baroness asked.

Words scrambled out of Daphne’s grasp. She knew from the baroness’ keen gaze that denial was out of the question. But Daphne was determined not to tell the dowager of the time spent with her son. Alone. Unchaperoned. Not once, but twice.

“Have you been assisting Dremore?” Lady Laurissa asked. She cocked her head and chuckled. “To think I chided him.”

Eldridge glided to a halt before the two women. “Lady Dremore, I am happy to see that you have regained your health.” He handed a glass of punch to Daphne.

“It is so warm,” Lady Laurissa said plying her fan. “Could you please fetch me some punch?” she beamed at him. Her smile faltered as he sauntered away.

“Watch yourself with that one,” the baroness told Daphne in a low undertone. “He is not as he appears.”

Daphne held her tongue. What else had the baroness and Richard discussed? Dare she ask?

“We have little time if I judge Eldridge aright,” Lady Laurissa continued. “Dremore showed be the verse from the library,” she confided in a whisper. “I leave for Heart Haven in the morn. If I can learn who the ‘paramour’ was, you and Richard may be able to solve the clue.

“I know you believe you have had cause to distrust my son. But take care not to trust Eldridge. He has reasons for wanting the treasure that do not bode well for Richard.” Abruptly raising her fan to her lips, the dowager coughed delicately.

“Ah, Eldridge, how diligent to return so quickly,” she greeted her nephew’s return. Accepting the glass, Lady Laurissa motioned toward the baron and his partner in the dance.