She was in danger, at least until the necklace was found. His instinct to settle Linton by her side was correct.
Silently, he bade La Coccinelle farewell. She had been a magnificent example of a courtesan in her prime, and she had led the male half of society in a merry dance. Unfortunately she would never pass her prime. “People will remember her for this. A shame her death will surpass her life,” he murmured as he stepped back.
He could do nothing more here. He needed to speak to Latimer urgently. Then go to Phoebe, who would be safe inside Miss Childers’s house by now. Or as safe as she was anywhere. Forewarned, Miss Childers would ensure Phoebe was safe. And he had sent one of his most trusted men, whose sole duty was to care for her.
Chapter 14
Leo tracked Lord Latimer down in a City inn, where he was partaking of a meat pie and ale in company with several other gentlemen. He had to call on Latimer’s London house and liberally grease the palm of the butler, but the price was worth it.
Normally he’d have partaken of something himself, but after seeing poor Lisette, he was still feeling queasy. The full impact hadn’t hit him until he left the house, but the stink of scorched blood remained in his nostrils even now. He’d slept with that woman, laughed with her, argued with her, and now she would do none of those things ever again.
The walk to the inn on the Strand had blunted the sting, but it remained embedded in him. Now he had a personal stake in finding the murderer. And since the killer and the thief of the necklace appeared to be intertwined, his quarry was also Phoebe’s.
Without his wife, Latimer was an unpretentious fellow who enjoyed life, but Leo did not allow that to stop him doing what he wanted. Greeting the man affably enough, he asked for a word.
“Charlotte said I was not to talk to you,” he answered, while his friends watched with not a little interest. He visibly brightened. “However, my wife is not here.”
“In private, if you would,” Leo said.
They found a room. Small, and furnished with two scarred wooden benches, black with age, but the place served its purpose. “Have they found it?” Latimer demanded. “The necklace?”
“No.” Leo kept his eyes trained on His Lordship, waiting for any telltale signal. If Latimer knew anything about the jewels, Leo wanted to know it. “What did you do with it?”
“Me?” his voice spiraled up. “I let my wife wear it to that confounded ball. Then I watched as she chased the woman who ran off with it and the man she passed it to.”
Leo got straight to the point. “But was the real necklace stolen? Or did you give the real one to Lisette? Men were vying for her attention once I cast her off. She was auctioning herself to the highest bidder. The necklace would have suited her nicely.”
He needed to be absolutely certain that the piece stolen was not the real one. If it was, then the thieves might be satisfied. But that would leave Phoebe still accused of the theft, if the item did not turn up.
Latimer emitted a strangled cry. “What kind of a man do you think I am? I might give Lisette a pretty piece of jewelry, but the Latimer necklace? My life wouldn’t have been worth living if I’d done that. Of course the real necklace was stolen from my wife!”
Exasperated, Leo spun around and took two steps one way, and two steps back, all he could achieve in this confined space. He needed information, not an argument, although he was spoiling for one right now. He wanted to hit out at somebody, and the perfect candidate was standing before him.
Latimer had a tendency for protruding eyes and a receding chin, rather like a frog. Leo tried not to hold that against him. And failed. “Did you give her the paste necklace, or did Lisette have it copied herself?”
Latimer avoided Leo’s eyes. “I gave it to her. We always had copies of the thing, to put thieves off. I gave a good copy to Lisette, with the earrings and bracelet.”
“Did you tell her it was the real one?”
A telling pause followed before Latimer shook his head. “But I didn’t tell her it wasn’t, either. Why, did you think it was the original?”
Leo turned his shoulder in a shrug. “Men have made idiots of themselves for less. And she was fascinating.”
“Was?”
Leo let the pause grow for a few seconds before he gave his answer.
“La Coccinelle was found earlier today with a bullet through her chest. I believe she was wearing the jewelry when she was killed, because she also had the matching earrings and bracelet. But the murderer took the necklace.”
Latimer stared at him, pale blue eyes so wide that Leo feared they might pop out of his head. “What?”
“She was murdered,” he repeated slowly, as if he didn’t understand the words.
“Lisette?”
Leo recognized the confusion in Latimer’s eyes; not so long ago he’d felt exactly the same himself. But he was coming out of his shock, while Latimer was entering it. That was why he’d kept the news back until he had the information he needed. Latimer was not an actor. His shock was real. He had not known, so he was probably not involved in the murder. Even if he had ordered someone to retrieve the necklace, he had not told his agents to kill anyone.
“A man called Forrester was seen leaving the house.” He ventured a theory. “Did he work for you at any point?” As a footman, perhaps?
Latimer frowned and swallowed. “No.” A pause followed. “But another man, a footman called Chapman, disappeared the night of the theft.”
The man who collided with Phoebe?
“Was he there at Miss Childers’s house the night the necklace was stolen?” Leo snapped.
“Yes.” Latimer helped himself to a brandy from a decanter on the mantelpiece. Leo wasn’t so far gone that he would have partaken of the doubtful substance. But Latimer knocked it back.
“Why did you not tell anyone?”
“I didn’t know until yesterday, when I sent for him. Then my wife told me he had disappeared.” He growled the words, obviously reluctant to admit them. “She runs the household. I keep out of the way.”
Leo could almost feel sorry for him, except that Phoebe was involved in this mess. He clapped the man on the back. “Go and get drunk. I wish I could. Lisette was beautiful, she was clever, and she was a pain in the backside. But she didn’t deserve what happened to her. The magistrates will no doubt send someone to see you.”
Latimer covered his eyes and groaned. “And if I don’t get home immediately, my wife will see them. Then my life won’t be worth a farthing. She refuses me her bed, so what did she expect me to do? Dear God, the woman is impossible.”
He dropped his free hand, and it fell to his side with a slap. “Don’t marry anyone you cannot share your life with, whether it is as a friend or a lover. Be sure before you tie the knot. Or don’t marry at all.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he shook his head. “I must go home. Thank you for telling me. If I had the choice, I’d far rather have had a woman like La Coccinelle, who was honest and affectionate, if a handful, than a cold fish like the one I’m married to.”
Leo could promise His Lordship he would not make that error, if he cared enough to tell him.
He needed to see Phoebe before the news reached her from another source. He had to tell her himself. And he had to ensure she was safe, even if he had to stay by her side day and night. They had not found the diamonds yet, so Phoebe was still in danger. Besides, he felt a need to confide in someone who understood his concerns. And he wanted to hold her, to feel a live woman in his arms.
* * * *
The Childers household was in turmoil. The usually well-ordered mansion held an air of fierce activity. As Leo walked through the unlocked, unguarded door into the hall, he was nearly knocked off his feet by a maid, who was running, no, hurtling, through the space at breakneck speed. “Oh, Your Grace, sorry!” She did not stop to greet him but continued on her way.
&nbs
p; Judging from the confusion in the hall, he’d arrived too late. The footman on duty glared after the maid but stepped forward. “Miss Childers is not receiving visitors today, Your Grace.”
“I’m not here for Miss Childers. I want to see Miss North.”
“She is not receiving visitors either, Your Grace.”
Like hell she wasn’t. “Then I’ll wait.”
“I’m afraid—”
Leo tired of arguing with him. When the man showed signs of blocking his way, Leo tossed his hat to him, which he was forced to catch. He wasted no time racing up the stairs. At the top he would have hovered, but a maid stood outside the doors to the drawing room. “Miss North?” he enquired. Blushing, she opened the doors, and Leo went inside.
“Ah.” He turned around, but the maid had closed the doors. He was alone in the room with the wrong Miss North.
Lucinda executed a flourishing curtsey. She wore another gown that seemed familiar, in deep blue, and now he knew why. The last time he’d seen it, Phoebe had been wearing it. Lucinda was much slighter than Phoebe, but that was taken care of by tight-lacing. Very tight-lacing. Her breasts swelled above the neckline, which he could see because she had no fichu covering her curves. The lace at her elbows was fine, delicate French lace. Probably also belonging to Phoebe.
“Your Grace.” She swished forward, holding out a limp hand, which he presumed he was to take. He did so, but only briefly, giving himself enough time to bow over it. But he dropped it as soon as he could.
His senses tingled. There was danger here. “I called to see your sister.” He had no time for niceties. “Would you tell me when she will be down?”
She didn’t answer immediately but flicked out her fan and turned to the window, staring out before she turned back to him in a swirl of silk, flashing him a glimpse of her ankle and lower calf. Admittedly they were shapely, but they drew him not at all.
“She has gone!” Lucinda stretched her arms wide, the fan dangling precariously from her fingers. She drew them back and clasped her hands. “I am so sorry, sir, but she has gone off with her lover!”
Leo’s heart missed a beat. “Explain.”
If he hadn’t crossed his arms, she might well have flung herself at him. She showed alarming tendencies to do so, but halted before she reached him. Only just in time. “Phoebe has been in love with Marcus forever, but he never regarded her as more than a playmate until recently. But when he came to London, they saw themselves differently. I am afraid that shortly after they met here, they became lovers.” She paused.
Leo did not reveal his shock. “Where is she?” He kept his voice steady, quiet.
“She has run away with him. They left this morning, just before noon. Mama took her shopping, and Phoebe stepped out for a moment. When Mama came out of the shop, Phoebe had gone. The footmen told her she had met Marcus outside and left with him in his carriage. Unfortunately one of the men tried to reach her, and he was injured, but apart from that, nobody was hurt. She did not leave a note, at least we did not think so until I found this.”
Diving into her pocket, she produced a folded sheet of paper and handed it to him.
“Dear Leomore,” it began.
“I cannot bear to be without my Marcus any longer. Please forgive me, I know you saw my father about our marriage, but I cannot go through with the ceremony. The union would not be fair to either of us, when I love another. I have always loved him, and we were always meant to marry, but I allowed myself to become carried away by your rank and my prospects as a duchess.
“By the time you receive this, I will be long gone. My home is but a day away, and having obtained a special license, Marcus and I will be married as soon as we arrive home.
“Look at my sister. Lucinda is beautiful and refined. She would make you a wonderful duchess. I will leave her in my stead.
“Yours etc,
“Phoebe North.”
Could today get any worse?
Leo heaved a great sigh of pure exasperation. After folding the letter very deliberately, he lifted his head and confronted Lucinda. “What have you done?” He was weary rather than angry. She didn’t deserve his anger.
She opened her mouth, no doubt to protest her innocence, but at that moment the door was flung open and Lady North stormed in. She had her skirts gripped tightly, an indication of her tense mood. “I am sorry, Duke. I sent word, but you obviously have not received the message.”
He hadn’t been back to his house. He should have changed for dinner, but he’d had no opportunity to do so. Drawing out his watch, he checked the time. It was a repeater, but he wanted visual confirmation. Phoebe had been gone nearly four hours.
Leo could barely control his fury, driven by an underlying fear for her safety. This minx of a sister had caused more trouble than she knew. Ignoring her ladyship’s precipitate entry, he kept his attention on the daughter. “Answer my question.”
“Nothing!” Her indignation echoed her stance. Really, Lucinda should be on the stage. She’d studied the attitudes and had them off pat, even to the angle of her head when she struck a pose. “I am the messenger, nothing else! How could you think otherwise?”
“Of course he does not think that, my love. But for Phoebe to do this passes understanding. Why should she?” Her mother was obviously impressed by her daughter’s protests, her tone conciliatory. “My dearest, I know that Phoebe taunted you in the past, and you have shown a great deal of Christian forbearance to act as her messenger in this awful business.”
Lucinda blinked fast, enough to bring tears to her eyes. “She always did. And she knew I wanted Marcus, but she refused to leave him alone.”
In one sweeping motion she was by his side, and before Leo could stop her, she had his hand cradled between hers. “I know what she’s like, my dear duke. She will lead you on, and before you know it, you are agreeing to do whatever she wants. She’s encroaching, and I am so sorry she treated you in this way.”
Leo would let this play out, but not for much longer. “In what way?”
Lady North answered. “Leading you on, getting carried away by a handsome face, and a title,” she said. “Phoebe is a good girl, but she does not always behave in a way I would prefer. Lucinda has caught her out before. I thought sending her to London would be good for her.”
“Good of you,” he said dryly.
The lady missed the harsh note in his voice. Lucinda took up the conversational ball. “I know. We try. But she does play fast and loose with men. She and Marcus have always belonged together. You should let them be, to be happy. Meantime,” she continued, her voice brightening, “I am a Miss North. If you are afraid of losing face, I will gladly step into the breach. Society will expect you to marry a Miss North, will they not? And here I am. I will make you the best duchess, I swear I will.”
Leo had never been proposed to before. He found he did not enjoy it, especially from this scheming child.
“You will be much more comfortable with Lucinda, will you not?” Lady North beamed. “This is the perfect ending. Then Phoebe will be able to get on with her marriage, and she will be far more comfortable too.”
“Allow me to differ.” Leo allowed ice to creep into his voice. “While I am sensible of your offer, I have a few points of my own to make. First, that I am not in the habit of passing one sister over for another. I have never considered women interchangeable.” Pulling away, he gave Lucinda a hard, cold bow.
He would be far better dusting his hands of the whole family. How could he introduce these two to his family and friends in the country? Society would laugh at him, for allowing these bumpkins to fool him.
But he would not, and he could only use one word to describe why. Phoebe. She deserved better than a mother who constantly favored her younger daughter. Better than being passed over in favor of an obviously pretty, spoiled child who thought nothing of taking her sister’
s clothes.
Marcus Callow was a bully, and if Leo knew anything, it was that Phoebe deserved better, even if that was him.
“I have come to an agreement with Sir Frederick, which I intend to comply with.”
“But Lucinda is a Miss North,” Lady North cajoled. “She would make an excellent duchess.”
“Enough!” came a new voice from the door. The stentorian tones silenced the women, but not Leo. He turned around slowly, confronting Phoebe’s father. “This is foolish talk. I have allowed you your own way for too long, and all for the sake of peace in the household.”
Tight-lipped, he faced Leo. “I am deeply sorry that you had to face this, but in one thing, the women are right. By running off with Marcus Callow, Phoebe has sealed her fate.”
He shot his wife a hard look. “You will go to your room and prepare to leave London as quickly as possible. Both of you.”
Lucinda’s protesting wail made Leo flinch, but her father must have faced this before, because he did not move a muscle. “I have sent a note to our hostess, outlining the events and begging her forbearance.”
“And she is here.” Miss Childers’s soft tones cut through the short silence. “I would not have had this happen for the world.” She had evidently come from her work, because she was dressed plainly, and her face was clear of powder or other artifice. Her brow furrowed. “Has Phoebe truly run off with her childhood sweetheart?”
Leo could stand no more. He snorted and flourished the letter. “No, she has not. I believe she has been abducted, and I am seriously concerned for her safety. This is not her handwriting.”
Miss Childers took the note from him and scanned it, her lips tightening.
“How do you know she did not write this?” Lucinda demanded. “Phoebe’s copperplate is much like any other.” Did the girl never learn?
Leo kept his voice steady. It was either that, or fling every ornament in the room against the wall, and there were not enough of them to assuage his fury. His training served him well now, helped him to remain in control of his temper and thus the situation he was facing. “I know her writing and her signature. I also know her style. Phoebe did not write this. I assume you and Callow were in cahoots.”
The Girl with the Pearl Pin Page 18
