Stroke of Midnight (3 page)

Horrified, Laura rushed toward the two men. “What are you doing? Stop that at once!”

She thrust Alex away, seized the cord, and tugged at the knot. He caught hold of her wrists. “Forgive me, Laura. I’d hoped you wouldn’t have to witness this.”

“Witness what? Why are you treating Papa like … like a criminal?”

“I was seeking notepaper and pen to leave a message for you a few moments ago when I spied those earrings in his drawer.” He nodded toward a pair of large, bluish diamonds sparkling atop the desk. “They’re so distinctive, I recognized them at once. They were stolen from the Duchess of Knowles, along with the Blue Moon diamond necklace.”

Laura stared in disbelief at the precious stones, unable to fathom how they’d come to be here. The robbery had been the talk of the ton for the past fortnight. “You must be mistaken. My father is not a thief.” She grasped her father’s coat sleeve and implored, “Tell him, Papa! Tell him that you didn’t steal those earrings.”

His gray eyes clouded with bewilderment, he shook his head. “I’ve already done so, my dear. But he won’t believe me.”

“Someone else left the jewels here. To make you look guilty of the crime.” She spun toward Alex. “You must listen to him, help us find out who did this. Please, the least you can do is to give him a chance.”

Those dark eyes held hers for a moment as if he were wrestling with an inner dilemma. He glanced away, and then looked back at her. “I’m sorry, but he’ll have to be taken to Bow Street for questioning. The magistrate will decide how to proceed.”

She could scarcely believe Alex was the same man who’d amused her with his charming banter, who had kissed her so tenderly and made her ache with desire. “And what will happen to Papa then? He’ll be found guilty on your testimony. He’ll be sentenced to die.”

With the bleak chill of a stranger, Alex regarded her. “That remains to be seen. In time, I hope you’ll realize that I’ve no other choice. Please try to understand, I’m obliged to do my duty.”

As he turned away to secure her father’s bindings, she realized with a cold knell of shock that Alex cared nothing for her father—or for her. He wouldn’t shed a tear even if Papa were to swing from a hangman’s noose. A frantic fear choked her throat. She couldn’t let this happen, she mustn’t. In wild desperation, she snatched up a penknife …

Laura took a deep breath to clear her mind of the vivid memory. Even after the passage of a decade, she still felt a sense of sick betrayal at Alex’s unwillingness to trust in Papa’s exemplary character. The earl had not been interested in finding any other explanation for the presence of the jewels. He had treated her father as a common thief who was subject to his lordly judgment.

She glared through the crack in the curtains. If only it weren’t a vastly stupid thing to do, she’d relish flinging open the coach door, witnessing his startled expression, and giving him a severe tongue-lashing in front of everyone on the street. Many a time she’d imagined that confrontation, planning in her mind precisely how she would cut him to shreds with sharp words in retaliation for his treachery.

But not now when he could thwart her plans. The Blue Moon diamond was still missing. If he learned she was back in London, he’d likely haul her off to the police station and accuse her of being her father’s accomplice.

Gripping the edge of the window, Laura willed him to turn toward her. She felt a morbid curiosity to view the scar on his cheek. Contrary to the report in the newspaper,
she
had been the one to attack the earl with a penknife, not her father. Alex must have lied about that because he’d been too humiliated to admit that a mere woman had bested him …

“You might be more comfortable on the seat, my dear.”

The disembodied voice came out of nowhere. Laura yelped, spinning in a crouch and half losing her balance. Bracing a hand on the floor, she glanced wildly around the gloomy interior.

As if by magic, a person appeared to be sitting in the shadows of one corner. Her eyes adjusting to the dimness, she discerned a slender woman garbed in a rich dark gown that blended with the leather upholstery. A veiled hat adorned with a diamond aigrette hid her features from view.

There was something vaguely familiar about that regal tone. Who was she? Laura didn’t intend to stay long enough to find out.

“I-I’m terribly sorry…” Recalling her pretense of being a servant, she adopted a working-class accent. “Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lady. Didn’t see ye there.”

“Apparently not.”

The woman’s cultured voice held a note of dry amusement that made Laura blush. What must she think of Laura’s peculiar behavior?

“I mean ye no harm. I’ll be on me way now.” She scrambled to the opposite door, intending to exit on the street side in order to avoid encountering Alex. But when she tried the handle, it was locked. “Do ye have a key?”

The lady reached a dainty, kid-gloved hand to the door. Instead of unlocking it, she opened the curtains with a flick of her wrist, allowing a flood of dull daylight to penetrate the interior of the coach.

Laura immediately averted her face.

“I presume,” the lady said sternly, “you’ve a good reason for not wishing to depart by the way in which you entered.”

Laura considered how to reply. She didn’t know which would be worse, to be recognized as a fugitive who was wanted in connection with a jewel heist or to be thought a common pickpocket who’d taken refuge here after filching someone’s coin purse.

“’Twas me husband,” she fibbed. “We quarreled an’ he was chasin’ me. Drunk on gin, he is. Makes him fly into a rage.”

“I see. Then it is quite imperative that I spirit you away from here as quickly as possible.”

Laura risked a glance at that veiled face. “Nay! I daren’t involve ye, m’lady. He … he might do ye a harm.”

“Nonsense. I’ve two stout footmen and a coachman for protection.” At that moment, the vehicle rocked slightly. “Ah, there they are now, back from fetching my parcels.” Leaning down, the woman took Laura’s gloved hand and patted the back of it in a motherly fashion. “So you see, my dear, you’ve no cause for alarm. You are quite safe with me.”

Uneasy, Laura withdrew her fingers. “’Tis very kind o’ ye, m’lady. But—”

“I will hear no more objections. Pray take a seat now. Right beside me, if you will.”

The firmness of that voice brooked no disobedience. Laura found herself rising from the floor and gingerly settling onto the squabs. How luxuriously soft the cushions felt, how pleasant it was to rest after walking for hours.

But she mustn’t be lulled into relaxing.

Was Alex still outside, chatting up the girls? To her frustration, she couldn’t see from this angle, for the curtains on that side were still partly closed. In a moment she would have to step out and take her chances. The trouble was, he had always been a very observant man. She would have to hope that the hood sufficiently hid her features …

The coach jerked slightly and then settled into a gentle rhythmic swaying. The other window revealed that the vehicle had started down the street. Her stomach clenched in alarm. Where were they heading? Had she merely traded one perilous situation for another?

“M’lady, please, ye must let me out at the next corner.”

“Nonsense, you’re clearly distraught. And I daresay it is time to end this silly pretense.”

“Pretense?”

The veiled lady caught firm hold of Laura’s chin and tilted it to the window, scrutinizing her in the daylight. “Ah. I knew you were no common servant. And it appears my first impression was correct. You are indeed the notorious Miss Falkner.”

Laura’s heart pounded. She had a wild notion of making a lunge for the unlocked door and jumping out onto the cobblestone street, never mind that the coach had picked up speed.

“Ye’re mistaken.”

“Am I? It is a particular trait of mine that I never forget a face. Perhaps you will remember me as well.”

In one smooth motion, the lady swept the black netting up over her hat, revealing a lovely countenance with lushly feminine lips, high cheekbones, and shrewd violet eyes. Though not a young woman, she had dark hair untouched by gray and an ageless beauty that struck a faint chord of memory in Laura. It took a moment to dredge up the name from the mists of the past.

Lady Milford. One of society’s premier hostesses.

Pinned by that astute gaze, Laura refused to quail. She would simply have to brazen her way out of trouble. And she
was
in trouble, for there could be no doubt this woman knew all about the still-missing diamond necklace. The famous crime had rocked society and dominated the newspapers for weeks even before Papa had been accused by Alex.

The rudiments of a plan took shape in her mind. Perhaps … just perhaps there might be a way to use this twist of fate to her advantage.

“I confess you’re correct, Lady Milford,” she said, throwing back her hood and abandoning the charade. “I remember being introduced to you briefly some years ago.”

“It was in a receiving line during your debut ball. You were an exceedingly lovely girl, the nonpareil of the season.”

Laura was all too conscious of the contrast between that social butterfly and her present appearance. She mustn’t feel embarrassed for a circumstance not of her own doing. “My situation has been vastly altered since then, as I’m sure you know. I am no longer welcome in the best homes.” She bowed her head in not-quite-feigned humility. “Pray forgive me for pretending to be someone else, my lady. I have no husband, drunk or otherwise. It’s just that … I feared I’d been recognized on the street, and I didn’t know where else to conceal myself.”

Laura saw no need to confess that it was Lord Copley she had been avoiding. That near-encounter was still too raw in her mind. To see him again after all these years had rattled her equilibrium.

Lady Milford regarded her with cool hauteur. “Subterfuge seems to come naturally to you, Miss Falkner. After all, you have been in hiding for many years.”

Laura refused to flinch. “Yes. Until a short time ago, I was living in Portugal.”

“And your father? Has he, too, returned to London?”

Though she had been expecting the query, Laura felt a catch in her throat nonetheless. “I’m afraid … he died quite recently.”

How difficult it was to voice those words. She had hoped to play on her ladyship’s sympathies and now found it required no effort at all to make her eyes swim with tears. Blinking, she groped unsuccessfully in her pocket for a handkerchief. “I know what you’re thinking, my lady. That he only received his just due, and that he didn’t deserve to live. But you’re
wrong
. Papa didn’t steal the Blue Moon diamond. I swear he didn’t. He was utterly innocent of the crime.”

Lady Milford pressed a dainty folded square of linen into Laura’s hand. “My dear, there were jewels belonging to the Duchess of Knowles in his desk.”

“I don’t know how they came to be there—nor did he.” Laura dabbed at her cheeks. “If he’d possessed the diamond necklace, we might have sold it and lived handsomely off the proceeds. But all these years, we have been living as
paupers
.”

Lady Milford frowned slightly. “I’m sorry for your distress. It is clear there is more to the situation than I was aware.” The coach gave a slight jolt, and then came to a stop. “We’ve arrived home. You will tell me the whole story over tea.”

Chapter 4

Laura considered it an encouraging sign that Lady Milford allowed her a room in which to freshen up. At least she was trusted enough not to pinch the silver or pocket a trinket from one of the many beautiful items on display. She only prayed that her own instincts were correct, that Lady Milford had not tricked her by sending a messenger on the sly to Bow Street Station. The woman simply
must
be persuaded to give Laura the assistance she needed.

As a white-wigged footman led her back down the central stairway, she absorbed the splendor of the soaring, two-story entrance hall. It seemed like forever since she’d been inside such a fine house. She had taken such luxury for granted in her youth, for it was all she’d ever known. Her father had had a distinguished lineage that linked him to some of the best families in England. Consequently, she and Papa had been welcome in the highest circles of society.

As an only child, her mother having died in childbirth, Laura had been the joy of her father’s life. He’d taken great pleasure in her debut, purchasing an extensive wardrobe for her and making certain she was introduced to the most eligible young gentlemen. Those days seemed like a dream to her now, a fantastical fairy-tale world of balls and shopping and flirtations. How carefree she’d been, how silly and self-absorbed. At the time, Laura had never imagined how swiftly it could all come crashing down on her.

In one fell swoop she and her father had lost everything. They’d had to flee the country when he’d been falsely accused of thievery.

Not that she regretted the years living in the cozy cottage in the mountains. She had come to prefer having only one servant, a village girl to assist with the more difficult chores like hauling water and washing clothes. In hard work Laura had found contentment, her days filled with tidying the small rooms, weeding in the garden, or cooking the meals, and her evenings spent reading by the fire with Papa.

A knot filled her throat. That simple life, too, had been swept away by a caprice of fate. She had returned to England to save her father’s life, only to learn of his untimely death. Now she had a new purpose: she must somehow restore his honor in the eyes of the ton.

There was only one way to do so. She must find the real thief who’d stolen the Blue Moon diamond.

The footman left her in an airy sitting room that was decorated in subtle shades of rose and yellow. A fire burned on the grate beneath a mantel of carved white marble. Gilded chairs and chaises were grouped for intimate conversations.

Having arrived first, Laura wandered to the tall windows that overlooked a pleasant display of greenery interspersed with beds of blooming roses. A stooped-shouldered gardener clipped the boxwoods into symmetrical shapes. It was all so civilized, so perfect, so
English
that despite the long years of absence, she felt right at home again, as if she’d never left.