by Amanda Quick
She shot him an irritated look.
“I am merely trying to tell you that I may not be the right woman for a man of your passionate nature, sir,” she said. “I’m trying to warn you, as it were.”
He was most certainly enjoying himself now, he decided.
“Ah,” he said. “We are back to your concerns about those exotic sexual rites in the forbidden chamber, is that it? Never fear, I won’t expose you to that sort of thing unless you request me to do so.”
“Damn it, Slater, you are deliberately mocking me.”
He grinned. “I do believe I am. I think I rather enjoy teasing you. It’s only fair, given your remarkably ridiculous concerns about your own temperament.”
She sighed. “You are not going to take my warnings seriously, are you?”
“I suggest we examine this situation from my point of view.”
She gave him a wary look. “What do you mean?”
“Given my periods of extended celibacy it seems likely that I am out of practice when it comes to matters of sexual rituals. I have no doubt grown clumsy, or possibly quite inept.”
“Inept?”
“At the very least I’m sure my timing will be off,” he said.
“Timing?”
“If memory serves—and after my experience on Fever Island I cannot be at all certain that it does serve—I believe timing is critical in acts of physical intimacy. Clearly I have moved too quickly today, for example.”
“It is not that you moved too swiftly,” she assured him. “It is just that I was taken somewhat by surprise.”
“My fault, entirely,” he said.
“Well, not exactly.”
“Given my ineptitude, bad timing and lack of practice, it is clear that I need a woman who will be patient with me,” he said. “One who will be understanding. Considerate. Gentle.”
“You are impossible, Mr. Roxton.” She glared. “What’s more, I have had quite enough of your deliberately provocative conversation. I strongly suggest that you do not say another word on the subject of your poor timing and inept ways or exotic sexual rites and rituals. If you do I will terminate our partnership and continue with the investigation on my own. Do you understand me, sir?”
A knock on the door made both of them pause. Slater stifled a groan.
He fished his spectacles out of his pocket and put them on. “Come in.”
The door opened. Webster loomed in the opening.
“Lady Roxton is here, sir. She is asking to see you. Insists that it’s very important.” There was a slight hesitation before he added in his darkest tones, “She brought the children, sir.”
“In that case, whatever you do, don’t send them in here,” Slater said. “The last time the boys were in my library they made every attempt to destroy my collection.” He glanced out the window and saw that the fog had dispersed. “Send them out into the garden and show Lady Roxton to the terrace. I’ll join her there.”
Webster was visibly relieved. “Very good, sir.”
He left, closing the door.
Ursula turned to Slater. “You have guests. You’ll want privacy. I should return to the office.”
“You may as well stay and meet the rest of the family,” Slater said.
Ursula glanced at him with a flash of curiosity and then concentrated on opening her satchel.
“I would not wish to interfere in your private affairs,” she said, taking out a small hand mirror. She frowned at the glass and raised one hand to remove a long, steel hatpin. She adjusted the cap and anchored it with the pin. “I understand that your relationship with your father’s widow and her children is complicated.”
“My entire life has become complicated of late,” he said. He watched her close the satchel. “But it has also become more interesting.”
SIXTEEN
It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kern,” Judith Roxton said. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work with Slater. Since his return he has been so busy dealing with matters relating to his father’s estate that he has not had time to devote himself to his collection of artifacts. I know he is relieved to be able to get back to the cataloging.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything important,” Ursula said. That was a blatant falsehood but she could hardly explain that she and Slater had been in the midst of a heated discussion of their odd relationship when Judith and the children had arrived. “We were finished with the day’s business.”
Judith was not at all what Ursula had expected. Blond, blue-eyed and dressed in the height of fashion, Judith was more than pretty. There was a ravishing fragility about her. She did not appear conscious of her extraordinary appeal. Nor did she seem like the sort of female who relied on her beauty to manipulate others. Quite the opposite, Ursula thought. This was a woman who looked as if she needed rescuing. And that quality, too, no doubt drew the male of the species.
Judith also appeared to be a devoted mother to the two young boys who were playing in the garden. Slater was with them, alternately catching and tossing the ball. Crawford and Daniel were eight and nine years old, respectively. Dark haired with cognac-colored eyes, they bore a striking resemblance to their much older half brother.
It was obvious that they adored Slater. They had come running up to him the moment he appeared on the terrace, demanding that he play a game with them. It occurred to Ursula that Slater seemed to be enjoying himself. He looked younger and more carefree than she had ever seen him.
So much for the gossip of a family feud, she thought.
Judith smiled at the sight of the three males engaged in vigorous play.
“Crawford and Daniel are very fond of Slater,” she said. “When I said that I was going to come here today they begged to accompany me. I could not refuse. Slater is very generous with his time. Not every man in his position would be so kind to two half brothers who stand to inherit most of the family fortune.”
“Mr. Roxton is unique,” Ursula said, trying to sound noncommittal.
“I know what the gossips say about our family,” Judith said. “And, as is the case with most legends, there is some truth to the rumors. Slater’s mother and I do not move in the same circles, nor do we go out of our way to do so. But I respect Mrs. Lafontaine and she has never been cruel or unkind to me or the boys, even though she knows that they will inherit what should, by right of blood, have been her son’s inheritance.”
“Lilly Lafontaine is a very pragmatic woman and I can assure you that she is well situated financially.”
Judith did not take her attention off Slater and the boys. “My husband loved her. My marriage was the usual business arrangement but Edward was very kind to me and I think he was fond of me in his own fashion. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. I can tell you with absolute certainty that Edward was enormously proud of all three of his sons. He made the mistake of trying to control Slater by cutting him off but when that effort failed it only served to make Edward respect Slater all the more.”
Slater tossed the ball one last time and then sent the boys off to play in the far corner of the garden. He walked along the graveled path and climbed the three stone steps to the broad terrace. He lowered himself onto a wrought-iron bench with easy grace and reached for the glass of lemonade that Mrs. Webster had provided.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Judith,” he said. “I assume a problem has arisen?”
Judith looked stricken. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have sent a message asking if it would be convenient for me to speak with you.”
“It’s all right,” Slater said patiently. “Tell me what this is about.”
Judith seemed to crumple in on herself. “I’m afraid it is the usual.”
“Hurley.” Slater said the name as though weary of it.
Judith bowed her head. “He came around early today. Stormed into t
he morning room at breakfast.”
“I told you not to allow him into the house.”
Ursula realized the conversation was becoming extremely personal. She rose and started to pull down her veil.
“Gracious, look at the time,” she said. “I must be off. Don’t worry, Webster will see me out the door.”
“No.” Slater got to his feet. “You may as well stay for this.”
Ursula glanced at Judith. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Judith did not seem to notice that there was a bystander. She gave Slater a helpless, imploring look.
“Mrs. Brody allowed him in without asking my permission,” she said. “He threatened her.”
Ursula made to step around Judith and move toward the house. Without a word, Slater caught her hand, chaining her. He did not speak but the look he gave her said it all. He wanted her to stay. She sank back into her chair and sat quietly.
“Hurley cannot be allowed to intimidate your housekeeper,” he said to Judith. “You will have to let her go. You need someone stronger at the door.”
“My stepfather will simply bribe or threaten the next housekeeper. He has become increasingly aggressive of late. It was bad enough when he threatened me. This morning he dared to imply that if I did not give him money, something dreadful might happen to the children. That is why I came here to see you. I’m frightened, Slater.”
Slater went very still. “He threatened the children?”
“It was a veiled threat but it was a threat.” Judith clasped her hands together in her lap. “I am terrified, Slater.”
“He has gone too far,” Slater said calmly. “I will deal with him. In the meantime, you and the boys will go to the country house and you will stay there until I have dealt with the problem of Hurley.”
Tears of relief glittered in Judith’s eyes. “I am more grateful than I can say, Slater. But when Hurley realizes you are the one standing in his way, I fear he will turn his attention toward you.”
“I told you, I will take care of him,” Slater said. He looked toward the house. “Here comes Mrs. Webster with sandwiches and cakes. Feed the boys while I see Mrs. Kern on her way.”
For the first time Judith seemed to remember Ursula’s presence. She turned quickly. She looked quite horrified and embarrassed.
“I do apologize, Mrs. Kern,” she said. “This is such an unpleasant family matter. I should not have exposed you to my problems with my stepfather.”
“No need to apologize,” Ursula said. She touched Judith’s arm. “This is none of my business but it is obvious that you and the boys are in danger. You were right to come here.”
Judith gave her a shaky smile. “I’m afraid that my husband quite deliberately dumped the problem of my stepfather onto Slater’s shoulders. I know the gossips say that Slater somehow cheated me out of my inheritance but the truth is that my husband knew full well that I could not protect the boys from Hurley. If Edward had left me in control of the fortune, Hurley would have done something terrible to force me to give him what he wants.”
“I understand.” Ursula watched Slater unfold neatly to his feet. “Mr. Roxton appears to be balancing a number of complicated problems these days.”
“Enough,” Slater said. He reached down to take Ursula’s hand. “Mrs. Kern has a business to mind. I will see her out and return in a moment.”
He took Ursula’s arm and steered her back toward the house. Once inside, they continued along the corridor to the front hall. Webster opened the door.
Slater guided Ursula down the steps toward the carriage where Griffith stood deep in friendly conversation with Lady Roxton’s coachman. Ursula glanced at the expensive carriage that had brought Judith and the boys to Slater’s house.
“Can I assume that Judith married your father in part to escape a brutal stepfather?”
“I think Judith would have married anyone to escape Hurley’s clutches,” Slater said. “And as it happened, my father needed a legitimate heir for the title and the estate. The situation worked well for both of them. While my father was alive, Hurley was careful to keep his distance. But he has grown bolder now that I am in control of the money.”
“He sounds dreadful. What will you do to keep him away from Judith and the boys?”
“There is only one thing that a man of Hurley’s low nature comprehends.”
“What is that?”
“Fear.”
She stopped short, rounding on him.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered, conscious of the possibility of being overheard by Griffith and the coachman.
Slater was obliged to halt, too. He smiled in what he no doubt believed to be a reassuring manner.
“Hurley will be made to understand that remaining in London would not be good for his health. I shall offer to assist him in his travel plans. The choice will be his.”
He sounded as if he was discussing the weather or a train schedule—a matter of fact, not a subject that could be debated.
For a moment Ursula was utterly bewildered. And then with a cold shock, understanding dawned. She was amazed by the sheer audacity of the threat.
“Do you think he will believe your threat?” she asked.
Slater handed her up into the cab, his eyes chillingly calm behind the lenses of his spectacles.
“It won’t be a threat,” he said.
“Slater, Judith says he is a violent man.”
To her amazement Slater smiled. “Are you worried about me?”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“I’m touched. Truly.”
“I hope you know what you are doing.”
“I admit my social skills are limited, Ursula, nevertheless, I am capable of communicating with men like Hurley. Now, don’t forget, we are to have dinner with my mother tonight. Seven-thirty.”
Slater stepped back, closed the door of the carriage and waved to Griffith, who was up on the box. The vehicle rumbled forward.
Through the window Ursula watched Slater go up the front steps and disappear into the big house. There was something different about him this afternoon, she concluded. He appeared younger and his spirits seemed brighter. It was as if the darkness around him had dissipated a little.
Probably just her imagination, she decided.
SEVENTEEN
Of course I would be delighted to try to arrange a meeting with the proprietor of the Pavilion of Pleasure.” Lilly smiled across the table at Ursula. “I cannot say that Mrs. Wyatt and I are close but years ago we shared some mutual gentlemen acquaintances. That was before I met Slater’s father, of course. Nan Wyatt was an actress in her day. Rather good, actually. We appeared in A Twist of Fate together.”
“Do you think Mrs. Wyatt will be willing to speak with us about her business association with the Olympus Club?” Ursula asked.
“From what I recall about Nan, she is strongly motivated by money.” Lilly looked at Slater, who was seated at the far end of the long table. “As long as she is well paid for her information and assured of confidentiality, I think that she will be happy to discuss her connections to the Olympus Club. But she will be expensive.”
Dinner with Slater’s mother was proving to be a surprisingly comfortable affair, Ursula thought. She was not quite certain what she had expected—Lilly was nothing if not unpredictable. But Lilly’s love of all things theatrical and dramatic was on full display tonight. She was taking great delight in contributing to the investigation.
The meal offered both fish and chicken. There was also a surprisingly wide variety of mushy, overcooked vegetables and a solid-looking nut loaf that could have served as a doorstop—the cook’s grudging concession to the one guest who was a declared vegetarian.
“I have no objection to paying for information,” Slater said around a bite of nut loaf. “In my
experience, that is usually the cheapest way to obtain it. Mrs. Wyatt can be assured that we will keep her secrets. But time is of the essence.”
“I will contact her first thing in the morning,” Lilly said. She paused. “No, I will send a message tonight. The nature of Mrs. Wyatt’s business requires her to work nights. I very much doubt that she rises until noon.”
“Thank you for your assistance,” Ursula said. “I am very grateful.”
“I’m delighted to be able to aid you in your investigation,” Lilly said. She picked up her wineglass. “It is quite the most exciting thing I’ve done in ages. It has inspired me with all sorts of ideas for my next play.”
Slater gave her a repressive look. “I don’t want to see any of this in your next script. We are venturing into some dangerous territory with this inquiry.”
“Don’t fret,” Lilly said airily. “I assure you that you won’t recognize any of the characters or events by the time I have finished writing the play.”
Slater aimed a fork at her. His eyes were a little tight at the corners. “I want your word that you will allow me to read the script before you show it to anyone else.”
“Yes, of course,” Lilly said in soothing tones. “Discretion in all things is my motto.”
“Is that right?” Slater said. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“I’ll dash off a note to Mrs. Wyatt as soon as we finish dinner. Have some more nut loaf, Slater. If you don’t finish it I shall be forced to feed it to the squirrels. No one else in this household eats nut loaf.”
Slater eyed the brick on the platter. “I think I know why. Tell your cook that she need not bother sending the recipe to my housekeeper.”
—
SHE HAD BEEN BOTH ANXIOUS and thrilled about the prospect of being alone with Slater in a darkened cab late at night. But in the end Ursula was chagrined to discover that she had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
