Why Earls Fall in Love (17 page)

Con let his shoulders droop a bit. “I suppose that’s something,” he said with a sigh. “And I could do with your help in all this, so if having Perdita means having you here as well, that’s good too.”

“I didn’t know you cared, old man,” Archer said with a laugh. “Though you shouldn’t make it sound as if we’re a package deal. I merely agreed to accompany the young dowager here at her request. If the duke had needed me in town, I should have been forced to send her alone.”

Con shuddered at the idea. “Do not frighten me with scenarios like that. Isabella as well? Perdita alone is as terrifying a prospect as ever I’ve imagined.”

“You’re the one who was betrothed to her,” Archer said with a shrug. “Though I do feel the need to point out to you that you’re speaking of the woman I love.”

“How is that going?” Con asked innocently.

“Now who’s the bastard, Coniston?” Archer asked, turning his back on the earl and stepping out into the studio.

“I believe that would be me,” his friend responded, following. “Quite definitely, me.”

Ten

It was almost time for luncheon when Georgina, Clara, and Lady Russell returned to Henrietta Street.

Exhausted from her first venture out in days, Lady Russell decided to take her meal in her bedchamber, exhorting Georgie to leave her in peace. “I do not need to be coddled like a child,” she insisted with exasperation. “Leave me to eat in peace and quiet. I vow I heard enough chatter in the Pump Room to last a lifetime. I’d forgotten how talkative Mr. Huntingdon can be.”

Releasing Lady Russell into the care of her maid, Georgie and Clara untied their bonnets and gave them to the butler, who informed them that Lord Coniston was waiting for Georgie in the blue sitting room with another gentleman. Thinking that it was the investigator from the magistrate’s office, Georgie told Clara to go on to luncheon without her, and smoothing her hair and wiping her hands nervously on her skirt, she stepped into the sitting room.

“Surprise,” Perdita said, rushing forward from where she’d been seated on one of the two long couches before the fireplace and wrapping Georgie in a tight hug. “I know you hate them. Surprises, I mean. But this one couldn’t be helped. I heard about the trouble you’d been having with the man who resembles … well, that man, and I had to come.”

“I’m the guilty party, Mrs. Mowbray,” Lord Archer Lisle said from his position just behind Perdita. “Coniston consulted me about the matter, and knowing the duchess would wish to be informed, I … well, informed her.” To Georgie’s amusement the man ran a finger between his collar and his neck. Leave it to Lord Archer to apologize in such a way that she couldn’t be angry with him.

“Technically,” Con said from his position before the fireplace, “the blame is mine. I am after all the one who told Lord Archer, so if you are to rake anyone over the coals it should be me.”

“I’ve never heard such a load of rubbish in my life,” Georgie said as she and Perdita took seats next to one another. “You’re all so busy taking blame that you don’t stop to consider that I might be glad for your inability to keep a secret.”

“It’s only that we love you, dearest,” Perdita said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “And knowing what Isabella went through in Yorkshire and later in London, I couldn’t allow you to remain here in Bath suffering alone. I could never forgive myself.”

“I understand,” Georgie said, her heart full as she realized just how much she’d missed her friend. “Though I hope that this doesn’t rise to the level of awfulness that Isabella’s incident did, I must admit that I’m unnerved by the things that have happened here.”

“Can you tell us what exactly has happened?” Lord Archer asked, his brows drawn as he stood next to Con before the fireplace. “We’ve heard about the incidents from Lord Coniston, of course, but I’d like to hear your own impressions if that would be agreeable to you.”

So, in her own words, Georgie related to them everything that had taken place in Bath from the moment she’d seen the man who looked so like her husband standing in the garden, to finding the body on the roof of the theater, to now.

As she related her tale, Perdita became increasingly disturbed, gasping when Georgie told her about the dead man, and finally reaching out to hug Georgie when she told how frightened she’d been when she saw the body.

“This is awful,” Perdita said with a shake of her auburn curls. “Simply awful. I cannot believe that this person would go so far as to kill a man simply to frighten you.”

“I’m not sure it was simply to frighten me,” Georgie responded, patting her friend’s hand. “I suspect that the man on the roof was guilty of crossing the man who looks like Robert in some way. He’d have to be utterly mad to kill for any other reason.”

“Don’t be so sure of it,” Lord Archer said quietly. “There are men who think nothing at all about taking another’s life. I do not think your villain is one of those, however. But I shouldn’t rule out the possibility completely.”

“We’ll know more once we’ve heard from Mr. McGilloway, the magistrate’s investigator,” Con said, his eyes intent. “I suspect that we’ll find some sort of falling-out between our man on the roof and our man from the garden. But until then, we can’t jump to conclusions.”

“When I think about how close you came to falling into this man’s trap,” Perdita said with horror. “Well, it doesn’t bear thinking on.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Georgie reassured her friend. “In fact, I’m better than fine. For the first time since Robert’s death, I feel in control of my own destiny. Even if it does mean that I’ll need to vanquish this mystery man before I can truly embrace it.”

“Any news from the Pump Room?” Con asked, stretching his long legs out before him. “You looked as if you had something on your mind when you returned.”

Remembering what Mr. Corey had told her, Georgie related to her friends the tale of the man their neighbor had seen crossing his garden into theirs. “And since Mr. Corey said that the look-alike is there every night, we should be able to catch him at it tonight, shouldn’t we?”

“How?” Perdita asked, her nose wrinkled.

“My dear Perdita,” Georgie said with a wolfish smile, “because I intend to set a trap!”

“Good God,” Con said, shaking his head. “Of course you can’t set a trap. At least not on your own.”

“Of course not,” Georgie said with a grin. “I’ll be with you,” she said. Turning to Archer and Perdita she added, “and the two of you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is not going to end well,” Con muttered.

“Don’t be such a cynic,” Perdita chided him. “We’ll do splendidly, won’t we, Archer?”

To Georgie’s amusement, the other man gave Con a look of apology before nodding at Perdita.

“Excellent!” she said. “Now we’ve only to make plans for our midnight ambush.”

Before the others could comment, however, the butler stepped into the room and announced that a Mr. McGilloway had called and wished to speak to Mrs. Mowbray. Telling him to show the man in, Georgie was grateful that she wasn’t alone to answer the man’s questions about the death the night before. Not only was she terrified of saying the wrong thing, she was also worried that if she took a verbal misstep she might find herself facing more trouble than she was prepared to deal with.

*   *   *

From his position against the mantelpiece, Con observed McGilloway enter the room. To his amusement the man who was so self-assured with him earlier in the day was somewhat nervous outside of his own usual surroundings.

“My lord,” he said, stepping forward to bow before Con, who then introduced the newcomer to Lord Archer. His greetings to the men completed, he turned to first Perdita and then Georgie. Pausing over Georgie’s hand, he looked carefully at her face before allowing her to take her hand back.

“Mrs. Mowbray,” he said cautiously, “I hope you will allow me to ask you a few questions regarding the events of last night at the Theater Royale?”

Once the ladies took their seats again, the investigator took a seat across from them on the couch opposite.

“I’ve already spoken with Lord Coniston,” he continued, not looking toward the other man. “But I’d like to hear things from your point of view now, if you don’t mind.”

Con was pleased to see that rather than giving in to her fear, Georgie maintained her dignity and responded, “Of course, Mr. McGilloway. I am happy to help. That poor man on the roof deserves our help.”

“I don’t suppose you would consent to answering my questions without all these good people in attendance,” the man said, in such a way that Con knew he thought the chances were slim.

“I’m afraid she will not,” Con said, before Georgie could say anything. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, of course, but Mrs. Mowbray is rather nervous and she does not wish to speak to you alone. Aside from the fact that it would be highly improper.”

“I thought not, my lord,” McGilloway said with a nod. “But I had to ask all the same.”

Settling back into his seat, the investigator turned back to Georgie. “All right then, ma’am,” he said, “why don’t you tell me about what transpired last night at the theater. When did you first know something was wrong?”

Once again, Georgie told her story, beginning with how she’d seen the man who resembled her husband and ending with finding the body of the young man on the roof. When she was finished, there was no sound in the room except for the ticking of the mantel clock.

“Was this the first time you’d seen the man who looked like your husband?” McGilloway asked.

“Not at all,” Georgie said, staring at the painting on the wall behind McGilloway’s head. “He’s also been seen hiding in the garden here in Henrietta Street. And at Farley Castle. But I’d never been as close to him as I was at the theater. I was able to see how much like my husband he really was in the theater. From the upper stories to the very back of the garden is quite a long way and it’s difficult to judge size and distance.”

McGilloway nodded. “Would it surprise you to know that the young man whose body you found has been working as an investigator himself?”

That must have given Georgina some pause, because she looked sharply at McGilloway. “You mean an investigator like you?” she asked.

“In a way,” McGilloway conceded. “He was hired by a minor Italian nobleman to find the whereabouts of a piece of jewelry that was stolen from his wife just after the war.”

Con saw Georgina frown. “So the dead man had nothing to do with my husband’s look-alike? And he wasn’t one of the four men who attacked me either?”

“He definitely was not one of the four young men,” McGilloway said, his gaze intent upon her, as if he thought he could read her mind simply by staring at her. “I’ve spoken with all four of them.”

McGilloway looked at Georgina closely. “As far as we know, your husband’s look-alike was not involved in the man’s death either. Though there is a strange coincidence at work there. We’ve spoken with an army friend of your husband’s and he seemed to think that your husband was involved in some minor theft while he was in Europe. That might explain why the dead man was here. He was investigating your husband. Were you aware of any illegal activities he might have been involved in?”

Georgie shook her head, as if to clear it. “No,” she said “So far as I knew he was merely a soldier. I did get the feeling he was hiding something, but I assumed that was just…” She paused, embarrassment lending color to her cheeks. “I assumed he was having an affair. I had no notion that he was stealing.”

“With your husband’s death,” McGilloway said with a shrug, “there is no way of knowing one way or the other if he was involved.” His eyes watching her keenly, McGilloway continued, “Unless, of course you found some unexplained valuables with his things after he died, of course. But you’d have told the authorities, wouldn’t you?”

“Well,” Georgina said with a frown, “it was rather impertinent, but I may as well tell you that I found nothing in Robert’s things. No extra funds, no jewels, no valuables of any kind. If I had I should certainly not be employed as a ladies’ companion to keep a roof over my head.”

“Aye,” McGilloway said with a nod. “I thought as much. Though I did have to ask.”

“I can’t say that I’m surprised to hear such an accusation,” Georgina admitted with a shrug. “My husband was not the most ethical of men, and I often found that when he wanted something he had no compunction about taking it.” Con noticed the way she seemed to shrink into herself at the memory and once again found himself damning the late Colonel Robert Mowbray.

“But what of the fellow on the roof, McGilloway?” Con asked, bringing them back to the subject at hand. “If you believe Mrs. Mowbray, then where does that leave the investigation into his death?”

“It’s possible the man was killed by someone over an entirely different matter than the one the fellow was looking into. After all, it’s rare that a man like that works only one case at a time.”

“It makes sense,” Con said grudgingly. “But surely it is too much of a coincidence that he was investigating the husband of the woman who found him.”

“I would add, however, that it’s quite possible the man wasn’t as convinced of Mrs. Mowbray’s innocence as I am,” McGilloway said. “And someone said they saw the dead man, a Mr. Potts, rushing down the hallway and he happened to run into you, Mrs. Mowbray. I believe he shoved you out of the way? Perhaps Lord Coniston didn’t like that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, man,” Archer said, pushing himself away from the mantel. “Lord Coniston has no need to kill anyone. Especially not over something so trivial. It makes no sense.”

“You may be right, Lord Archer,” the investigator said mildly. “It could be that I’m chasing at windmills. But I do dislike coincidences.”

“You told me I was in the clear this afternoon, McGilloway,” Con said tersely.

“That was before I learned the identity of the dead man, Lord Coniston,” the investigator explained. “Things are different now.”

“But that’s nonsense! We were there because the man who looks like my dead husband lured us there, for heaven’s sake,” Georgina said, standing up so that she could pace behind the sofa. “He wanted us to be blamed for the investigator’s death so that he could escape suspicion.”