Thornbrook Park (10 page)

“Better. Much better. Now square your shoulders. You want to be flexible, but with a core of steel.” He ran his hands along her collarbone and in a line straight down the center of her body, flattening his palm against her abdomen. “That's it, tighten up.”

“Tighten up? I'm coiled like a spring.” How could he be so serious when his slightest touch had sent her mind reeling?

“Indeed. You're in fine form now.” He took a step back and mirrored her posture. Then he began to bounce from foot to foot in front of her, jabbing the air in her direction. “Ready?”

Without his coat and tie, he looked so much more imposing, as if to remind her that the bulk was all him, solid muscle, not the bunches of fabric that had covered him. Underneath the finery, he was a hulking specimen. As if she needed reminding. A lump rose in her throat. “I suppose.”

She forgot to move. She forgot to breathe. He landed a light jab to her bare upper arm.

“Try to hit me,” he urged.

She shook her head to clear it and bounced lightly on her toes. She swung a fist, aiming for his square jaw, and missed. He dodged it in time.

“You see? Instinct. Try again.” He spun a circle around her, bouncing from foot to foot all the while.

She swung again. And missed. “Oh, for goodness sake.”

He circled her again. And again. She kept up but began to feel a little dizzy. “You jab like a girl.”

“I am a girl,” she said, gritting her teeth. She began to sense a pattern in his movement. Left foot, sideways movement, left, right, back, left, moving a circle around her all the while.

“A fragile little—”

“Fragile?” That did it. She swung and knocked him right on the chin. “Ha!”

“Ow.” He staggered back.

“Are you all right? I didn't mean to hurt you. I got carried away.” She reached for him, eager to assess the damage.

He laughed, slipping an arm around her waist. “I'm well, thank you. Good left hook. You got me.”

“I did.” She smiled. “Taunt me, will you?”

“Never again,” he promised, still holding her in his arms. “Any blood? I think you might have reopened my wound.”

She studied his full lips, her breath slowing. “No blood.”

“Are you sure?” She felt his heart hammering right up against her. “Look closely.”

She ran a fingertip along the edge of his lips, her knees weakening. “Not a trace.”

His gaze met hers, gold glistening in the amber depths. “Perhaps I'm not as good as I'd thought. I barely offered you a challenge.”

“I nearly gave up when you started going in circles.”

“Did I make you dizzy?” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.

“You are good.” She remained against him, fighting the urge to kiss the lips only inches from her own. “I didn't stand a chance.”

His eyes widened, studying her. “I warned you.”

“My downfall. I've never been much good at heeding warnings.” They stayed there, each of them daring the other to make the move that neither would make, the need bubbling up in her until it nearly burst out, becoming impossible to contain. But contain it she would. She took a sudden step back. “We should go up to bed.”

“We should.” He shook his head as if to clear it, breaking the spell that had held them transfixed.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” she said, restoring formality.

“Good night, Eve. Unlike your last stay at Averford House, I won't be disturbing you in the dead of night.” He smiled.

She laughed to hide her disappointment and drifted away to the stairs.

He hadn't slept. Not a wink. He'd paced his room. He'd tried to read a book. He'd even gone down the hall to stare at the portraits of his father's dearly departed hunting dogs, hoping to restore his mind and body to peace. No use. His mind remained all too aware of her, of how she smelled like oranges and felt a perfect fit in his arms. And his body? His body remained at rigid attention.

He'd stood outside her door for God only knew how many minutes at a time hoping that she would sense him, take pity, and open the door. He hadn't dared to try the knob in case she had locked it against him. In the end, he'd resorted to the use of his own hand to try and ease the tension brewing inside him. But even that had brought him little satisfaction.

He wanted her. No one and nothing else would do. How long would he suffer in such a predicament? He hoped only as long as they were together at Averford House. He prayed that being back at Thornbrook Park would break the spell, this enchantment that had suddenly taken hold of them.

Eventually, he gave up on waiting for sleep to take him, got up again, washed, dressed, and made his way to the breakfast table. He hadn't even seen Paulson, the footman who acted as his valet at Averford House, until Paulson came to the breakfast room to greet him.

“You didn't need my services this morning, sir?”

“My traveling clothes were still decent and I managed on my own. But you can see to my evening clothes. I'm afraid I left them in sorry shape right where I removed them, in a pile on the floor by the bed.”

Paulson nodded, as if unsurprised by this bit of news. “Good, sir. Ring if you need me.”

Sutton appeared on cue as Paulson left him. “Cook is seeing to your eggs. The boy is still in bed. Shall I have Danvers wake him?”

“Let him sleep. We won't be setting off for London until this afternoon. And the lady? Any sign of her yet?”

“She rang for Lettie some time ago.”

“Not all that long ago, Mr. Sutton.” The sound of her voice preceded her entrance to the room and Marcus felt his pulse quicken. “I don't need more than an hour to pull myself together in the morning.”

If the sound of her voice had sent his pulse racing, the sight of her made his heart beat time out of mind. Her cheeks had a vibrant glow. Her eyes, riveting blue, pierced his from across the room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kendal. Please have a seat.” Sutton got her settled and poured her tea. “I'll go back to see how Cook is coming along with your breakfast.”

“Someone got some sleep.” Marcus waited for Sutton to leave the room before addressing her. “I'm envious.”

“Appearances can be deceiving. Big business to manage today. I felt it was important for me to appear rested, even if actual sleep proved elusive.”

“How do you manage it?”

“A woman has her secrets, Sophia might answer. But I will tell you straight out that I'm pleased to find Lettie has a light touch with powder and rouge. She's a gem. It's a wonder she remains hidden away here instead of being put to proper use at Thornbrook Park.”

“The answer to that mystery is as simple as the fact that my brother the earl and his countess spend so little time here in London. Perhaps you can give Lettie a good word with Sophia and spare her the purgatory of Averford House.”

“I think not. I mean to snap her up for my own household, once established, and it will be so much easier to lure her if she remains unappreciated here.”

“You're a crafty minx, Mrs. Kendal.”

She smiled and brought her cup to her lips. “Too clever for my own good sometimes. May it serve me well at Mr. Strump's office.”

***

On arrival, Marcus reached out to ring the bell.

“They never answered last time,” Eve informed him. “I ended up walking in.”

After waiting a minute, they decided to do the same, but this time the office was in chaos. There were papers strewn everywhere, on every surface, and most of the furniture had been overturned. Two men completely ignored them as they toted boxes of retrieved papers back and forth through the tiny entry space. A third stopped in front of Eve when he dropped his armload. She recognized him as Gibbs, Mr. Strump's assistant. When he stooped to retrieve more of the scattered papers, she took advantage of the situation.

“Mr. Gibbs?” She stripped off her gloves, ready to get down to business. “Is Mr. Strump in? Today, he's expecting me.”

“Oh.” Gibbs looked up. “Oh dear. No.”

“He's not here? Could you tell me where I might find him?”

The man straightened, tucked his papers under his arm, and faced her. “If only any of us knew.”

“Knew where to find him?” she asked, confused.

“Yes. Mr. Strump seems to have gone missing.”

“Missing? How can it be?” Her heart skipped a beat. It was a blow she wasn't expecting. “Someone must know what has become of him.”

“When I came in this morning, I found the place ransacked.” He gestured at the obvious disarray. “The other partners arrived promptly enough, but there was no sign of Mr. Strump at the usual time. We sent a boy over, and Strump's wife said that he packed a bag and boarded a steamer to India late last night.”

“Last night? To India? But my husband's investment was in Golkonda. Perhaps he has gone to see to my affairs?” Hopeful, she turned to Marcus. He had been standing back to let her manage on her own, but he shook his head as if in doubt.

“Captain Marcus Thorne.” He held his hand out to Mr. Gibbs. “You had no warning at all that the man was making off for India? And the office just happened to be robbed on the same night? What was taken? Have you contacted Scotland Yard?”

“We don't know that it was a robbery.” Mr. Gibbs pushed his spectacles further up on the bridge of his nose. “We haven't discovered anything taken, as yet, but a detective has been in to investigate.”

“Good. The office is torn to bits on the same night one of your partners goes missing. Or, makes a hasty departure for India. Damned suspicious, don't you think?”

“I agree, Captain Thorne. The whole matter has left us rather unsettled. If only we knew what motivated Mr. Strump to flee.”

Eve's money might have provided the motivation. How much had Ben invested? Enough to tempt a man to claim it and disappear? She had her doubts.

“Perhaps he hasn't fled willingly,” Marcus suggested.

Eve looked at Marcus, her mouth agape. “You suspect foul play?”

“Precisely what the detective conjectured, Captain. Indeed, it would be unlike Mr. Strump to simply run off without a word.”

“Someone was looking for something, it seems,” Eve said, unable to chase the suspicion that the “something” involved her request for information on her finances.

“Mrs. Kendal is a dear friend of the family.” Marcus completely stepped in front of her to continue the conversation with Gibbs, nudging her aside and nearly making her cross with him until she realized that he was using a ploy to extract more information. “She's bound to be distraught at suggestions of, ahem, foul play. Perhaps she would feel better if she could call on Mrs. Strump?”

“Certainly,” Mr. Gibbs agreed. “By all means, she should pay a call.”

Marcus lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you might have the address? I don't wish to upset her further by asking her to recall it just now.”

“Yes, of course. One minute.” Mr. Gibbs ran to an office down the hall. Eve took the time to try to look upset, not a struggle considering how worried she was about her finances. Only yesterday, she'd been so hopeful for the best, and now she had no idea when, or if, she would ever recover her funds. “Here it is.”

Gibbs pressed a slip of paper into Marcus's palm.

“Thank you, Mr. Gibbs. You've been most helpful. Here's my card. Should you recover any files regarding Captain Benjamin Kendal's affairs, send word immediately.”

“I will. At once. Please give Mrs. Strump our regards.”

Marcus escorted Eve from the office and back to the street. “I'm sorry, Eve. I know you were counting on better news.”

As the bleakness of her prospects continued to sink in, Eve felt more like throwing herself into Marcus's arms and crying. But she refused to give in. Of all things, she would not be helpless. “We'll just have to go to the Strump residence and see what we can find out about Mr. Strump's hasty departure.”

“I would like to share some details with a friend of mine, a private detective, and see what he can uncover. He has some contacts at Scotland Yard who might be able to offer some information.”

“Perhaps we should split up. Sophia is expecting us back in time for dinner. I'll go check in with Mrs. Strump. You see what you can find out from your friend and take care of Brandon. We should be able to meet back at the station in time to make the train.”

“I hate to leave you alone. Yesterday you thought you were being followed.”

She waved him off. “I'll be at the Strump residence, one woman calling on another. I don't think it should raise any alarms. Just in case, I'll keep an eye out for bowler hats in my midst.” She took the slip with the address from him. “Bloomsbury, a lovely neighborhood. I know it well, just a short walk away.”

“Eve.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “If anything should happen to you…”

“Don't be ridiculous.” She steeled herself against the wave of emotion, determined to remain capable of managing alone. “I'll be perfectly well. Working separately will allow us to cover more ground. One of us should be able to turn up something of use.”

“If you're certain you'll be safe alone?”

“I'm certain. I'll meet you at the station for the afternoon train.”

She walked off, suspecting he simply stood in place watching her until she was out of sight. The Strumps lived in a well-kept house across from a garden square. As she climbed the stone steps to the front door, she pondered what she might say.

The butler answered the door before she'd prepared enough to reach for the bell. A butler? Given the address and a barrister's likely prospects, Eve never expected to find a butler in the couple's employ. A few maids, perhaps a footman. The Strumps had higher prospects than she had imagined.

“Oh.” He seemed as surprised to find her standing at the door as she was to find a butler in a middle-class house. “How might I be of service?”

“I'm paying a call on Mrs. Strump,” Eve said. “I imagined that she might get lonely during the absence of her husband.”

“You've heard? So soon.” He looked around, left to right, as if looking for someone else. Apparently satisfied, he stepped back inside and opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

“Thank you. I haven't had the pleasure of making Mrs. Strump's acquaintance, but her husband is a friend of the family. A dear friend. I'd been hoping to meet with him today, but Mr. Gibbs at the office informed me of his hasty departure.”

“Please have a seat, Miss…”

“Mrs. Kendal. Mrs. Strump may have been more familiar with my husband, Captain Benjamin Kendal. Our husbands had business together.”

“Mrs. Kendal. I'll see if Mrs. Strump is in.”

“Very well. I'll wait.”

More directly, he would see if Mrs. Strump would agree to see her. She looked around. The place looked newly furnished and badly decorated. She decided to stand, as it looked as though no one had yet tried the ivory-cushioned sofa trimmed in gold braid. Mrs. Strump had a taste for things trimmed in gold, apparently. Gilded mirrors, candlesticks, even the walls had a gold leaf trim. The butler returned not a minute later with the news that Mrs. Strump would not see her. “I'm sorry. It appears that she's gone out for the afternoon. I will share your kind regards upon her return.”

But Mrs. Strump, with golden hair that looked to be more of a wig, and slightly askew at that, appeared behind her butler. “No need, Gerald. I've returned. Please bring us some tea. Shall we have a seat, Mrs. Kindle?”

“Kendal. Thank you.” Eve took a seat on the sofa, opposite Mrs. Strump in a high-backed chair. “I've heard that your husband has gone out of town. Rather suddenly. I hope nothing's wrong.”

“Wrong?” Mrs. Strump patted her hair, as if to put it in place. Her cheeks were over-rouged and her lips were an unnatural shade of plum. Eve couldn't tell the woman's age, exactly, but she looked at least ten years Eve's senior. “Oh no, he'd been planning this trip for some time. India. On business.”

“Odd that he didn't mention it yesterday. I went to see him. On business, coincidentally, involving India, and he didn't mention it. In fact, we had an appointment this morning. Imagine my surprise when he didn't show up and his office was in complete disarray.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Strump quirked a brassy brow. “Those fellows at his office, useless without Edgar.”

“It appeared to be more of a robbery,” Eve said matter-of-factly.

“Gerald!” Mrs. Strump screamed for her servant instead of ringing, the more usual method. “What's keeping the tea? I'm sorry.” She turned back to Eve. “I'm parched. Aren't you?”

“I'm more curious than parched.” Eve shifted forward in her seat. “Have you any idea what sort of business drew Mr. Strump away so suddenly?”

“We're women, Mrs. Kendal.” Her gray gaze met Eve's, sending a shiver through her. Those eyes held an unmistakable shrewdness and malice that did not quite jibe with the woman's flibbertigibbet exterior. Eve knew at once that she was dealing with someone capable of deception, at the very least. “Certainly we don't involve ourselves with something as ponderous as business.”

“While I would love to be at liberty to deny it, I've had no choice but to manage my own affairs since my husband's passing. We do what we must, Mrs. Strump. I sense that you're a woman who understands necessity. I ask you again, do you know what business occasioned your husband's abrupt departure?”