Sari Robins (17 page)

H
aving dressed with care that evening, Tess stood outside the door of the society’s small drawing room, preparing herself to face Mr. Smith and extract from him the information she needed.

Anxiously smoothing the hunter green silk of her gown and adjusting the fringe of her ivory merino shawl, she inhaled a deep breath. Then, pressing a hand to her coiffure, she checked the long, feminine curls to ensure that the pins were still in place. It never hurt to look her best when trying to appear confident and in control, even if she felt quite the opposite.

Her belly fluttered with nerves. It was one thing when people offered information and she quietly listened or asked a pointed question here and there. It was wholly another when, under false pretenses, she drew Mr. Smith here to be interrogated. The whole affair left a sour taste in her mouth. She wasn’t an inquisitor, and she certainly wasn’t anything like Reynolds. She hoped.

Pressing her lips together in a firm line, Tess warred
with the uncertainties that tempted her feet to turn and silently tread down the stairs. But she couldn’t afford to slink away like a sluggard. Mr. Smith knew about the investigation, was likely a part of it, and the inquiry by the solicitor-general could possibly, no matter how remote, end with her neck stuck in a noose!

Shuddering, she lowered her hand and hardened her resolve. She needed information. Badly. And Mr. Smith was the best means of obtaining it.

Who was instigating the inquiry? Aside from her, who was the target? Was the society at risk? Were the society members at risk? What was the purpose of the investigation?

Why Heath?
That thought troubled her. Did he volunteer or had he simply taken orders? Were his intentions predicated on revenge or was he simply doing his job as he saw it? Was he selected because he could play on their childhood friendship? Or did some prophetic person have some notion of how hungrily she’d desire him?

Oh, dear Lord in heaven! She would go mad if she kept this up! Once she had the facts in hand, she’d be better able to face them.

Inhaling a deep breath, she pressed a hand against her belly and stepped forward into the drawing room.

Mr. Smith was sitting in one of the tall-back chairs by the blazing hearth, sipping a glass of port. Tess was glad to see that almost one third of the port sitting on the table beside him was gone.

Mr. Smith was dressed quite conservatively for him; gone were his usual bright colors and dandified ruffles. Still, there was a fashionable flair to his burgundy coat, and his neck cloth was the usual intricately tied knot seemingly locking his head in place.

She smiled. “Hello, Mr. Smith.”

He jumped up, his face reflecting his astonishment. “What? Lady Golding?” His blond hair was a bit mussed and his eyes slightly glazed, evidence that he was well on his way to tipsy. Good, anything to make this easier.

With her hands clasped by her waist, she moved to stand before him. “I hope that you haven’t been waiting long.”

He blinked. “Ah, no. Not at all…” His gaze roved about the room as if he expected some surprise.

He seemed nervous, and she hoped to put him at ease. “Ginny says that you have a preference for first names, so please, call me Tess.”

“And call me Bills; everyone does.”

“May I?” She motioned to the chair opposite him.

Looking about the room as if still expecting someone, he nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” Adjusting her skirts, she sat.

“Ah, would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Obviously taking this as permission, he took a long swig of his own drink and sat across from her in his recently vacated chair. His foot tapped silently on the carpet and his eyes seemed to have a life of their own as they roved about the chamber. The poor
man was truly disappointed that Lucy wasn’t there. Guilt swelled in her middle, but she pushed it aside. He and Lucy would have their time together. For now Tess needed to safeguard her friends and her life.

“I know you must be wondering why I’m here,” she began.

“It’s your society, of course you should be here…” His voice was loud, evidencing his unease.

“I mean, me and not Lucy.”

His mouth opened and then closed. “Well, yes.”

“I am here on Lucy’s behalf.” Tess bit her lower lip, unable to contain a genuine smile. “Lucy’s quite taken with you.”

His face brightened. “Is she, now?”

“She has expressed a certain interest in you…” Her smile waned.

“I sense a
but
coming.”

“She wonders about your intentions.”

“You mean…” He swallowed. “Marriage?”

“She never mentioned matrimony to me.”

His face showed a mixture of relief and disappointment. Interesting.

Biting her lip, Tess leaned forward. “She does not believe your story about a wager and wonders why you and Heath are pursuing the society so vigorously.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Tess held up her hand. “Don’t bother protesting, I know about the investigation.”

His gaze shifted about nervously and he gulped the remains of his glass. “Investigation?” he asked too
loudly.

“I know all about it, but am not at liberty to discuss it with Lucy. Not without your permission.”

Setting his empty glass on the side table, he stood, moving over to the grate by the windows. “You want my permission to tell Lucy about an investigation about which I know nothing?”

His nervousness was palpable, and she hoped he confided in her soon. After sharing a secret people usually calmed down, as if it eased their burden.

Rising and moving to stand beside him, Tess opened her hands. “Please save your pretenses. I know about the investigation and must warn you that you will earn no credit with Lucy until she knows the truth of it. The whole truth of it. She is no fool.”

“That she is not.”

Silence descended in the room.

Pursing his lips, he sighed. “I confess I’m delighted to learn of Lucy’s interest…” His voice lowered to a mumble. “And especially that she has no interest in pursuing my name.”

Exhaling noisily, he continued in a louder tone, “But I am most troubled by your notion of an investigation—”

“It is not my notion, but yours and Heath’s and Solicitor-General Dagwood’s.”

Bills straightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision, and his fist unfurled. “Why didn’t you just tell Lucy?”

Tess released the breath she’d been holding. She was so close she could almost taste the answers she
needed, but his response wasn’t the unequivocal confirmation she wanted. “What should I tell her? That you’ve lied to her, that you’re making a mockery of an institution that she loves—”

“I’m not making a mockery of anything.”

“Pretending to have a wager—”

“There is a wager—”

“Pretending that there’s nothing more to it than that.”

He ran his hand over his hair, looking away.

“She needs to understand the truth of it, or else any possibility for a future with Lucy will bear no fruit.”

He chuckled. “Fruit. Is that what you call it?”

She willed her cheeks not to redden. “What can I tell Lucy?”

Silence descended as Tess counted her breaths. Twelve dreadfully long breaths passed before Bills spoke, “You can tell her about the investigation.”

Tess was surprised by the shaft of disappointment in her gut. She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding out a last glimmer of hope that Heath hadn’t been manipulating her.

Licking her lips, Tess lifted a shoulder. “May I also inform her that it does not pertain to the Society for the Enrichment and Learning of Females?”

“Yes, of course. We have no interest in the society as a community.”

Thank God.
“May I also assure her that there is no danger to any member at the society?” She watched him closely. “Aside from myself, of course.”

His gaze was speculative. “I must confess, I’m quite
astounded by your ability to be so selfless. Most people wouldn’t worry over the other members; they’d be more concerned about their own hide.”

She looked away, powerful emotion threatening her poise. She swallowed. “The members of the society are my friends and family…I would not want any of them to be harmed in any way. Especially not because of me.”

“But to be so cavalier about an investigation instigated by the solicitor-general’s office?”

Instigated by the solicitor-general’s office.

Bills shook his head. “You’re either the pluckiest woman I’ve ever met, or the most dim-witted, and I daresay you’re not stupid.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “Or innocent. You seem to have left that off as a possibility.”

“Innocent or not, most people would be shuddering in their shoes just knowing that the solicitor-general was inquiring about a theft and viewed her as the only suspect.”

It’s only me. It has nothing to do with the society or the Foreign Office.
And she’d never stolen a thing in her life. Tess pressed her hand to her heart, and her shoulders drooped with relief.

“I daresay that’s why the solicitor-general ordered that you not be approached or questioned directly,” Bills added, tapping his finger to his lips. “That, and the fact that he feared that you might try to cover up your crimes.”

“So the thought that I might sue him for harassment and cause another scandal never entered his concerns?”

Bills’s face was sheepish. “That, too.”

Straightening, she inhaled a deep breath, feeling calmer than she ought. This was the solicitor-general they were talking about, and something had to have prompted it. “So tell me, when the solicitor-general completes his investigation and learns that I have stolen no such…ah, what is the claim again?”

Although his gaze was quizzical, he answered, “Jewelry, rare books.”

A guffaw burst from her mouth before she could contain it with her hand. This was getting better and better. Her relief was overwhelming. Smiling, she held out her bare wrists. “As you can see, I’m a true jewelry aficionado. This is so glaringly absurd as to be comical.”

Tilting his head, he held open his hands. “I make no judgments.”

“Pray, remind me who made these ludicrous claims.”

“You didn’t really know about the investigation, did you?”

“I did.”

“But not the who, the what, or the why.”

“No. I confess I brought you here in the hopes of learning those very things. And you have been most informative. Thank you.”

He scowled. “I don’t like being manipulated.”

“I didn’t lie about Lucy’s feelings, and she gave me permission to question you as I did.”

“And the part about being forthright with her about the investigation?”

Tess sighed. “I’m hardly the person to give advice about relationships.” Or honesty. “I think I’ll have that drink now. Care to join me?”

He nodded, as if deciding to forgive her. “I believe I will, Tess. If I may still call you that.”

Stepping over to the side table, she poured them each a generous serving of port. “Of course. And I apologize for manipulating you like I did. I just had to know what was going on, and you seemed the perfect man to ask.”

“Not Bartlett.”

Sipping the sweet, smooth liquid, Tess rolled it around her tongue. Heath. Joy, anger, guilt, excitement, and desire swirled inside her in a tempest of feelings. She peered down into her glass. When it came to Heath she couldn’t keep her head on straight. She doubted that she would have been able to carry out the interview. Likely they would have ended up tearing off their clothes and rolling around on the floor…

She swallowed, then hastily took another sip of the port, hoping that Bills would believe that it was the drink, not her thoughts, that colored her cheeks.

“I’m an easier nut to crack, I suppose,” Bills supplied.

She looked up. “Please don’t feel badly. I simply needed to know what was going on, and you did no harm in telling me, I assure you.” Biting her lip, she cringed. “If you don’t mind, can you please enlighten me as to who the mystery claimant is? Whose jewels did I supposedly filch?”

“George Belington’s.”

The drink sprayed from her mouth before she could cover it.

Jumping up, Bills tried patting her gown with a handkerchief, but upon realizing that it meant being a bit too personal, gave up and simply handed Tess the linen.

“Ah, thank you.” She tidied herself as best she could, trying not to worry over the stains.

“You seem surprised,” Bills commented.

“Shocked, actually.” She frowned. “I suppose I gave Belington more credit than he was due.”

“So you’re acquainted with him.”

Anger made her fist curl. “I can’t believe he’d actually set the solicitor-general on me!”

“Why does he hold a grudge against you? What did you do to him?”

“So you blame me for his wretched actions?”

“Nay, but it only makes sense that he had to have been incited in one way or another to have gone to such lengths. Anyone with sense would understand that at some point everyone would find out that his allegations were unfounded. So he has to be a few cards shy of a full deck. What happened between you two?”

Staring at the liquid swirling in her glass, she pondered the question a long moment.

Bills shifted in his seat. “If it makes you feel any better, I will not repeat what you tell me.”

Bills’s assurance along with Tess’s anger loosened her tongue. “I would not say that George is addled, but he is more desperate, and more conniving than I
would have supposed.”

“Why is he so desperate?”

“George’s aunt died a few months ago, and in her will she provided for him, but only if he marries. He needs the funds and is of the opinion that I am the only woman for him.”

“So he’s in love with you.”

She shook her head. “Hardly.”

“Then why is he so set on marrying you?”

Exhaling, Tess looked down at her lap. “I suppose since he was willing to brand me a thief and set the solicitor-general on me, I shouldn’t worry overmuch about protecting his reputation.”

“I know I wouldn’t. Still, as I said, I will not repeat what you share with me.”