The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake (40 page)

As the door closed behind the sixth newcomer, a bright-eyed ensign announced importantly that these were the same gentlemen who had formed the Court Martial Board that had originally tried Adair, and another burst of excitement sent voices rising. Was it possible that the missing lady had been found at last? Was the villainous Colonel to be tried for murder this time? Adair, known for his good looks, had presented a haggard and worn appearance, one arm was carried in a sling, and he had obviously been subjected to some very rough handling. Perhaps the silly fellow had resisted arrest, though someone who'd had a close look at him suggested that his hair looked to have been singed; perhaps he'd been caught in a fire.

A ringing shout of “Atten-
shun!
” stilled the increasingly lurid theories.

A retired General Officer stalked along the corridor, eyebrows bristling, his eagle glance raking the now silent and respectful assemblage. “One gathers,” he barked, “that none of you young fellows has anything better to do with his time than to hang about, gossiping!”

The ensign flung open the door to the Hearing Room, and the fierce old gentleman stamped inside.

“Phew!” said the ensign, closing the door. “That was General Sir Gower Chatteris. He's a regular Tartar!”

“He's also Adair's grandfather,” offered a sour-looking captain who wore rifle-green.

“Likely trying to wangle another hearing,” said a Lieutenant of Dragoon Guards.

The captain snorted derisively. “Much chance he has! Adair was caught red-handed. Guilty as sin! No getting—” He yelped as a boot came down hard on his toe.

“I say! I do beg pardon, sir,” drawled Paige Manderville.

“Well, it ain't granted,” rasped the captain. “Take yourself off, Lieutenant.”

Coming up behind Manderville, Broderick said, “We'd be glad to, sir. Only it seems we're wanted—inside.”

The captain gawked and a brief hush fell as the sentry admitted the two men.

“Did you notice, sir?” asked the ensign softly. “Those two fellas also looked as if they'd been in a fire.”

“By George, you're right,” said the Lieutenant of Dragoon Guards. “There's a story there, I warrant.”

“Of one thing you may be sure,” observed the sour-looking captain. “It's going to be damned hot in that room for Hastings Adair—grandfather or no!”

Half an hour later, facing the six officers who were conducting this hearing, Adair was hot indeed; with anger. The General and his friends had testified and been ushered outside. No other witnesses had been called. Aside from the fact that he was seated and there was no ominous sword on the table, he found the atmosphere in the room not much different from that of his court martial. In a voice edged with steel, he said, “Perhaps I do not understand you, Colonel Fuller. You have heard my testimony and that of General Chatteris and Lieutenants Manderville and Broderick. If you still do not believe us—”

The grey-haired colonel who had been President of the Court Martial Board smiled and interrupted with a faintly chiding air, “Now did I say that, Adair?”

Major Wandsworth, a youngish man with pale icy eyes, put in curtly, “You have presented us with an extraordinary tale that impugns the reputation of a highly respected member of the Cabinet. The details must be verified beyond any possibility of doubt before we can arrive at any decision.”

“Verified?” Seething, Adair said, “I understood that the Intelligence people had questioned Talbot Droitwich and that he'd made a full confession.”

The officers facing him exchanged swift glances.

Colonel Fuller said hurriedly, “Oh, yes. Quite true. And don't think we fail to appreciate the splendid work you've done, Adair. You and your friends have been of inestimable assistance. But—”

Too angry to bow to military etiquette, Adair snapped, “But you don't believe that, Cabinet Minister or not, Julius Harrington was a murderer many times over, besides being a filthy traitor!”

Through a tense pause they all looked anywhere but at Adair.

Choosing his words carefully and unaware of how much he sounded like Willoughby Chatteris, Colonel Fuller said, “You must realize that this is—that there are—er, many … ramifications.”

“For instance,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Thurston, a thin, tired-looking man, “it is regrettable that the Intelligence people were quite unable to identify the—er, human remains in the area where you claim Mr. Harrington met his end.”

“I
claim
?” Adair stared at him. “Do you say that he was never really there? Or that he escaped?”

“We don't dispute his presence,” said Colonel Fuller, smiling reassuringly. “From what we hear the heat was intense, and has left us only three of—these.” He leaned forward and handed Adair a small, twisted and blackened object on which was the faintest impression of an anchor.

Adair stared down at it and could all but feel the heat of the flames once more. He caught his breath and gave it back with a hand that trembled slightly. “I believe this came from Harrington's coat, sir.”

His reaction had not gone unnoticed. The officers glanced at each other, and Major Wandsworth murmured something to the lieutenant-colonel seated next to him.

Colonel Fuller said, “Most probably. But the absence of an identifiable corpse could make things difficult for Mrs. Harrington. Or—does her father mean to have the marriage annulled?”

Adair answered with slow reluctance, “I'm sure Mr. Prior would be glad to do so. Unfortunately, the lady was—well, as you know, Harrington held her prisoner in that ghastly house for some time. For her sake, the marriage will have to be acknowledged.”

Colonel Fuller nodded. “Poor girl. Poor girl. But what I do not understand is why at the start she agreed to the plot to stage her ‘abduction.' She did, after all, write the note asking that you escort her home.”

“That's true, sir,” said Adair. “As I understand it, she was deeply in love with a—er, young gentleman—”

Major Wandsworth held up one hand and said impatiently, “No need to wrap it up in clean linen, Adair. We know of the secret attachment between the lady and your younger brother.”

Colonel Thurston asked, “How is the poor fellow? Going to pull through, I trust?”

Adair had visited Nigel directly he'd reached Town, and found him in a good deal of pain, and frantic with anxiety about his beloved. “Thank you, yes,” he answered. “Our doctor expects he will make a full recovery.”

“Pretty well, for a man who is shot in the chest,” observed Colonel Thurston.

Adair nodded. “Luckily, Nigel wore a locket that deflected the bullet to an extent, else we'd be mourning him today.”

“Then it was actually Mr. Nigel Adair whom Miss Prior summoned to escort her home that evening?” asked Major Wandsworth.

“No, sir. Apparently, a lady named Mrs. Vanderhorn had struck up a friendship with Miss Prior, claiming to be the aunt of a girl who had been at her seminary. She introduced Miss Prior to Harrington and the pair of 'em very cunningly avoided Miss Hall and acted as a sort of
deus ex machina
in arranging trysts between my brother and the young lady. They both knew they were misbehaving, and Miss Prior was deeply troubled. On the night of the ball, unknown to Nigel, Miss Prior intended to beg my escort home and during the journey confide in me and try to win my support.”

“Instead of which,” put in Colonel Fuller, “after she'd written the note the young lady was drugged, and as you entered her coach you were struck down from behind.”

Adair frowned and muttered, “But—how, sir? The doctors could find no marks of violence.”

Major Wandsworth said pithily, “A charming new weapon coming out of the East. A small bag filled with sand. Efficient, seldom fatal, and leaving no evidence.”

“And before you regained consciousness, you also were drugged,” explained Colonel Thurston.

Adair looked from one to the other searchingly. “If you knew all this, why was I—”

Colonel Fuller said hurriedly, “Acquit us of that, Adair. We did not know of it until Mr. Talbot Droitwich very kindly—er, volunteered the information.”

“Did he also explain how Miss Prior was spirited away from her father's country estate?” asked Adair.

Major Wandsworth answered, “Droitwich said one of Harrington's lady loves, the Vanderhorn woman, no doubt, crept into Singletree late that night and lured Miss Prior from the house saying that your brother had been taken ill and that Harrington had kindly brought his coach to take her to him.”

“The girl should not have agreed to go without informing her sire, of course,” said Colonel Fuller, looking grave.

“Which is yet another reason,” Major Wandsworth said, “why we should not start hurling accusations about. For a while, at least.”

‘They're throwing sand in my eyes,' thought Adair. He asked, “Is the public then to go on believing me guilty?”

There were shocked exclamations. As if Colonel Adair and his family had not suffered enough! As if they would be subjected to more humiliation!

“Certainly not, my dear fellow,” said Fuller with remarkable joviality. “You have had a very nasty time of it. We know that, believe me, we do. Your name will be cleared, you will be commended, and your rank restored. I can promise you that much, eh, gentlemen?”

His promise was echoed by the other officers. Enthusiastically. Only Major Wandsworth's eyes remaining as cold and unsympathetic as ever.

“And you are to be awarded a month's leave of absence,” purred the colonel. “We hear that you are—enamoured of a certain very lovely and much sought-after young lady. That will set all London by its ears, eh?”

Hearty laughter.

“Thank you, sir,” said Adair, and thought, ‘Look out, Hasty! Here come the big guns…'

“There are just—one or two points…” murmured Colonel Fuller.

*   *   *

“Humbug!” Seated in the drawing room at Adair Hall, Lady Abigail Prior tossed
The Times
from her with loathing and snatched
The Gazette,
which Hudson Adair chanced to be reading.

“It's the same thing, in all of them, ma'am,” said Hudson, politely relinquishing the newspaper.

Looking up from the
Morning Chronicle,
Toby Broderick gave a snort of revulsion. “They report what they've been told. Listen to this gem of wisdom: ‘… and having bravely rescued the unfortunate lady from the villainous T——D——, now rumoured to be a French spy, the late Minister Harrington—'”

“What?”
shrieked Lady Abigail. “That little wart didn't rescue my poor granddaughter! He's the monster who
kidnapped
the child!”

Broderick nodded, and read on: “… late Minister Harrington made her his bride. They were, in fact, setting forth on their honeymoon when they saw the fire at Blackbird Terrace. Mr. Harrington, being well acquainted with the owner of the estate, immediately turned aside and raced to the mansion to render any assistance he might—”

Lady Abigail cried furiously, “Are they all gone daft, or what? Hastings?” Her scan of the room revealing only the three of them, she demanded, “Where is the dratted boy gone to? And Cecily with him, I don't doubt!”

Hudson coughed and said gently that he believed they had gone for a stroll in the gardens.

Glaring at the windows, Lady Abigail snarled, “It is a bitter day, with a wind from the east fit to freeze the blood, and they go for a stroll in the gardens! A sorry pair of loobies! And not officially betrothed as yet! You may wipe off that grin, Tobias Broderick! Don't imagine I'm blind to the fact that you've called on my poor Alice three times since she came home! Your behaviour, sir, is just as improper as that of Colonel Adair!”

Scarlet-faced, Broderick stammered, “No—really, ma'am, I—” Rallying, he said desperately, “You may be aware, my lady, that there is an ancient superstition, originating with the Turks, I believe, that says when the March wind blows from the east it carries with it some of the spices and romance long associated with the nomadic tribes who followed the trade routes across Asia. Furthermore…” He went on at length.

*   *   *

“If ever—if
ever
I heard such a sorry collection of rubbish,” declared Cecily, removing her hand from Adair's arm and waving it to emphasize her indignation. “You know what it is, Hasty!”

“Yes, love,” he said, reclaiming her hand and tucking it under his arm once more. “It is too cold for you out here, and—”

“Cold! I am liable to boil over like Vesuvius! You may think yourself all the crack now that you are wearing that dashing hussar uniform again, but—”

He chuckled. “The important thing is—do
you
think I'm all the crack, dearest girl?”

She thought him so handsome that it was all she could do to be cross, but she struggled to persevere and said, “Do not try to change the subject, sir! The thing is, and you know it, that those Whitehall slow-tops are ashamed to have it known they appointed a traitor and murderer to the almighty Cabinet!”

“Very probable,” he admitted, preventing her from walking into an unoccupied flower bed. “Toby and I reached the same conclusion. But I am shocked to hear you use cant, my dearest. I brought you out here so that we could—”

“And sooner than admit their colossal folly,” she swept on, “you—who deserve at least a dozen medals and promotion to general—”

He laughed, “Now, really, my darling girl—”

“—are to be thrown to the wolves. Again!” Her eyes glittered with rage. “It is so—
wrong,
Hasty!”

“My name has been cleared, and my rank restored, so—

“Pish! If you do not mean to stand up to them, I shall take General Chatteris to the Horse Guards with me, and we will—”