Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 01] (16 page)

Her heart softened at seeing him so. The poor man was exhausted. It was likely her fault, and here she was thinking about passionate trysts. Her selfishness mortified her. Raising her hand to her mouth, she realized that she needed to stop think
ing of herself and simply be a better friend to this outstanding man. For a start, she would do what she could to see him comfortable this night. She owed him at least that much.

Carefully she removed the goblet from his grasp and set it on the table. Treading softly over to the bed, she lifted off the coverlet and gently wrapped it around his legs. She felt odd stuffing the bedspread about his waist, but he seemed exhausted beyond being disturbed.

Hoisting up his feet, she realized that she had not noticed before how long and slender his toes were, with crisp dark hairs dusting them. Slowly, she curled the coverlet under his heels. Still he did not rouse.

As quietly as she could, she added another log to the fire. Turning, she watched the rise and fall of his chest for a few moments, softly mouthing a prayer that the angels of repose guard him safely until dawn. It was the prayer that her grandmother used to say over her bed every night.

A feeling of wholeness overcame her. This was how it should be. Nick had helped and comforted her this evening; she would do him the same good turn. He deserved it, after all.

Turning, she went back to her room.

“I
see this investigation as having three fronts,” Nick explained to Lillian the next morning over kippers and eggs. “First, Lady Langham. I believe I am beginning to understand why she might have been the target.”

“Really?” Lillian set down her fork, too excited to eat.

“Yes. I questioned her servants, and she
had
been having an affair.”

“With whom?”

“Neither her maids nor footmen seem to know. Whoever the man was, he was very secretive, meeting Lady Langham mostly at a house off of Manchester Street. It’s vacant now, and the agent has conveniently taken off on holiday.”

Lillian’s hopes slipped downward. “Oh.”

“But I came across an interesting gent the other day, leaving Lord Kane’s residence.”

“You went by his house?” Somehow the thought of Nick near Kane brought Lillian a sense of unease. Not that she worried for Nick, but he was going up against the monster of her childhood.

“It seemed prudent to assess his movements. I have ascertained that he hides out at his club most days. Probably to avoid his creditors. The man is deep in dun territory.”

“Kane likes to live well.” Her fists clenched as she recalled her mother wearing faded garments with multiple mends while Kane was always dressed in the height of fashion. “Living well is not cheap.”

“He has failed to pay his man-of-affairs the last three months’ wages.”

“The gent you met leaving Kane’s residence was Mr. Danneman?”

“Danneman was fired and apparently took off to Cornwall. This fellow’s name is Stein, and he had just left his notice on Kane’s desk.”

“What intelligence did Mr. Stein have to offer?”

“The man was only Kane’s man-of-affairs for a few months, so he was not as helpful as I would have liked. But questioning him revealed that Kane and Lady Langham were involved in a shady investment scheme.”

Lillian leaned forward. “What kind of scheme?”

“One that’s been around for years because it is effective at playing on people’s greed.”

“That would do well in London,” she remarked, nodding. “How does it work?”

“Some scoundrels set up a false venture opportunity. The first investors reap handsome rewards. They usually reinvest and attract other sharehold
ers. They even work to solicit many of the new backers with tidings of their great gains. The original scoundrels take what they want, covering their thefts with the new deposits. But eventually the money dries up.”

“Then what happens?” she entreated, fascinated.

“Everyone is left with empty pockets except for the thieves, who are usually long gone.”

“Lady Langham was one of the thieves?”

“Yes, she and Kane were in on it together. Apparently the investors were starting to wake up and suspect the scandal.”

If this could be proven, then Kane would be locked up for his crimes. She tempered her hopes. It sounded too good to be true. “Is there proof of Kane’s involvement? Would Stein be willing to testify?”

“Kane has covered his tracks well. At this point it would be Stein’s word against his. But I’ll unearth the evidence. Nothing can remain hidden for long.”

Her spirits rose at the conviction she heard in his voice. She had no doubt that Nick would do as he said. The man was probably one of the most capable she had come across in her lifetime. “But if Lady Langham was in partnership with Kane, then why kill her?”

“Remember the note that Dagwood has on Lady Langham’s stationery where she threatens to tell her husband all?”

“It did not have an address or salutation!”

“Exactly.” He tilted his head approvingly.

“And it may have been referring to the scheme!”

“You might make an enquiry agent yourself, Lady Janus.”

She felt her blush down to her toes. “Lillian, please.”

Cocoa brown eyes met hers, and she felt drawn into dark, heady pools. Her lips parted, as she felt suddenly breathless, lost in his smoldering gaze. The world fell away, leaving only the delicious heat simmering between her and this dark Adonis. She had to fight the compelling desire to reach across the table and touch him.

He coughed into his hand and looked away, breaking the spell. “I’m curious, do you wear lily perfume because of your name?”

Stealing a small sigh, she reminded herself that this was the man who had sworn never to touch her. It was time to stop acting like an infatuated lass, since Nick, at least, was keeping this relationship on a businesslike plane.

“It was Fanny’s idea,” she offered. “I prefer other scents—lavender, vanilla—but I’ve grown accustomed to it now.”

“Hmmm.” He shook his head as if to dispel a thought. “So, onto the second front: Beaumont. About his secret—”

Alarm shot through her. “You cannot tell anyone what you know!”

Holding up his hand, Nick shook his head. Despite the closed doorway, he lowered his voice. “I assure you, it is not my intention to save a man by ruining him.”

Her shoulders sagged, relieved.

“Besides, it would do little good,” he added. “What I need to know is where and what he was doing on the night of Lady Langham’s murder. He lied to me. Sent me on a wild-goose chase, wasting some of the precious little time we have. I need to confront him. To tell him that I know his secret so he need not hide anything.”

Lillian swallowed, miserable. “If you do that, then he will know that I broke my promise to him.”

Nick extended his hand as if trying to soften the blow. “If you came with me, then it might help assure him that I would not breach his confidences.”

She did not answer, knowing what she needed to do but not looking forward to the conversation.

“It’s important, Lillian.” He looked grim. “Or I would not ask.”

“I suppose we can go this morning, if that suits you,” she sighed.

“The sooner, the better. I will have to find witnesses to confirm his whereabouts. No one necessarily needs to know
what
he was doing with others, so long as there are people who can say where he was at the time of the murder.”

“What is the third front?”

His face hardened. “Kane.”

A surprising thrill shot up her middle at the force she heard in his voice. Kane had always been her own personal monster, and she had never had someone willing to challenge him. Nick’s eagerness could make a girl swoon.

Trying to stop the unfamiliar flutter of her heart, she cleared her throat. “How will you deal with him?”

“Exculpating Beaumont will hopefully lead to Kane. But since I doubt the bastard will lay on his laurels and not stir up trouble like last night, I intend to keep you close to me at all times.”

Her face flamed, and Lillian could not keep the pleased smile from her lips. She had a champion, it seemed. Nick might not have been retained to help her, but he seemed to have assumed her cause. With
Nick Redford around, she might actually see Kane get his due.

She bit her lip to keep her smile from splitting her face. “I must confess, I will feel safer with you around. Thank you, Nick.”

He looked away as if uncomfortable. “It’s the smartest thing to do under the circumstances.” He stood and walked over to the sideboard. Serving himself, he added, “Besides, you’re a sharp lady, you travel in Beaumont’s circles. You can help me speed the investigation along.”

A loud knock boomed on the door.

“Come,” Lillian called.

Hicks stepped inside. “Lady Rece is insisting on seeing you, my—”

“Lillian?” Lady Rece swept into the room behind Hicks, her burgundy organza gown swooshing with her every stride. “There you are! What on earth is going on? First we make plans, then you postpone them, then your servants do not know where you are to be found.”

Nick turned, setting his dish down on the sideboard.

Lillian rose and greeted her friend with extended arms. “Oh, Lady Rece. I am so sorry to have worried you.”

The matron squeezed Lillian’s hands affectionately, then she noticed Nick and frowned.

Lillian did not want her to get the wrong idea about having a handsome man joining her for breakfast. “Lady Rece, may I present Mr. Redford.” She motioned to Nick. “Mr. Redford is investigating Lady Langham’s murder. He also, thankfully, came to my aid last night when I was attacked at Litchfield Park.”

“Attacked?” Lady Rece flicked open her fan, waving it wildly. “I believe that I need to sit down.”

Nick leaped forward and yanked out a chair. Lady Rece fairly fell into it, her feathered turban sliding over her eyes.

“Oh, give me my vinaigrette,” she begged. “In my purse.”

Lillian grabbed her bag and yanked opened the drawstrings. Lady Rece might be a stalwart friend, but she was fainthearted when it came to violence of any kind. Moreover, she tended to succumb to the vapors quite easily, hence keeping a revitalizing vinaigrette always on hand.

Snatching out the tiny silver box, Lillian opened the hinged container and set it under Lady Rece’s nose. The scent of vinegar filled the air.

“What the devil is going on in here?” a loud voice boomed from the doorway.

The owl-haired, wiry Viscount Rece stood in the threshold. A look of aversion lined his features, and he held his walking stick before him like a weapon. “Dorothea!” Dropping his cane, he rushed to her side, and Lillian quickly backed away.

“I’m fine, Donald,” Lady Rece huffed. “A foul wind overcame me.”

“Unsurprising in this place.” His lips pinched.

Lillian was surprised at the strength of his animosity. But this was her home, and she did not have to suffer his antagonism. She opened her mouth to protest, but Lady Rece shot her a quelling look.

“Behave yourself, Donald.” Lady Rece adjusted her turban and straightened. “You are a guest here.”

“Not for long, I trust.” Nick stepped forward warningly.

Rece rose. Even at his full height he was a hand
span shorter than Nick. He glared at him. “I will be out of here as soon as I collect my wife.” He turned to her. “I told you not to come here, Dorothea—”

“I needed to see that Lillian was all right. She was attacked in the park last night.”

Rece turned to her, his bushy gray brows raised mockingly. “In Mayfair? Unlikely.”

“It’s true,” Nick supplied. “By my own hand I saw the attack undone. Lady Janus was only there in anticipation of seeing your wife. Which begs the question why Lady Rece did not show.”

“I received a note postponing our appointment until today.”

“Do you still have it?” Nick asked.

“I suppose I must.”

“Will you bring it here, so that we may see it?”

Lady Rece turned to Lillian. “You did not send it?”

Lillian shook her head.

“This makes positively no sense whatsoever,” Rece declared. His azure eyes filled with contempt. “Who would go to such great lengths to attack Lady Janus?”

“It is not your concern, Lord Rece,” Nick stated coolly. “Suffice it to say that there will be no more meetings in the park.”

“You can bet money on it!”

“I’ve had about enough of your unwarranted hostility toward Lillian,” the matron scowled at her husband. “She is my friend.”

“Lady Rece.” Lillian stepped forward. “Your friendship means a lot to me. And I would not wish anything untoward to happen to you. So perhaps it is not such a terrible idea for you to stay away from me for a time.”

“But—” Lady Rece pushed her slipping turban out of her eyes.

“Last night,” Lillian continued, “when I thought that something had happened to you…. well, it made it so much worse.” Guilt overwhelmed her. “I would not ever wish to see ill befall you, but for me to be the cause…”

Silence enveloped the room.

Even Rece had the decency to look away.

Lady Rece’s lower lip quivered. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. Do something, Donald.”

“What do you wish for me to do, darling?” His tone was clipped. “The lady is obviously entangled in a dilemma, and I have to agree with her. You should not be involved.”

“Friends do not desert each other at the first sign of trouble.”

Lillian took her hand. “You are not deserting me. I have Mr. Redford to help me, the greatest investigator in London.”

Nick coughed into his fist, embarrassed.

“This shall not do.” The matron rose on unsteady feet with Lillian providing support in the front, her husband from behind. Nick pulled back her chair.

Lady Rece sniffed. “I will call upon you in three days’ time, Lillian. And to ensure that all is well, my husband will accompany me.”

Rece looked as if he had swallowed a sour grape.

“Friends rally at trouble; they do not shy from it. I will see you in three days, my dear.” With that and a final squeeze of her hand, Lady Rece swept out the door.

Lord Rece watched her go but did not leave. “I will not have anything adverse happen to my Dorothea.”

“Neither would I,” Lillian concurred. “If she changes her mind, I will understand.”

“Dorothea does not change her mind, once settled.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Nick muttered.

Lillian set her hands on her hips. “If she calls, Lord Rece, I will not turn her away.”

Rece frowned. “Of course not. She would be devastated.” Lifting his cane from the floor where he had dropped it, he added, “I suppose she feels a sense of responsibility toward you.”

Lillian’s brow furrowed.

“We have…never been able to have children,” he explained haltingly. “Dorothea has always wanted a daughter.”

Lillian was touched but disagreed. She did not see their relationship in this light. Perhaps it made the man feel better about his wife’s choice in friends if there was some reason. For why else would Lady Rece associate with such a disreputable light skirt? If it weren’t for her regard for Lady Rece, Lillian would have demanded that the man leave.

They stood awkwardly in the dining room and still Rece did not depart. Lillian wondered what he wanted from her. A promise that she would not pursue the friendship with his wife? Well, she was not about to give it. Especially after Lady Rece’s staunch support this morning.

“I knew your family,” Rece finally broke the quiet. “Years ago. We had a…falling out.”

“Kane tends to have that effect on people,” Lillian replied, crossing her arms.