by Lyn Stone
“Excuse me, Caine Morleigh?” a deep voice demanded.
Caine stood and faced the questioner. “I am.”
“By God, it is you!” The man slapped Caine on the shoulder and laughed. “Caine! It’s Devil Neville, man! Don’t you know me, coz?”
Caine stared at the stranger. And that he was. He bore no resemblance at all to the skinny lad Caine recalled from his youth. But the wavy black hair and dark-fringed eyes looked familiar. “Neville?”
“So you made it home from the wars! I heard, but I’ve been away from Town since you came back. Are you well? I was told you sustained a frightful wound.” He peered sympathetically at Caine’s scars.
“I do well enough,” Caine declared. He turned to Trent. “I present Neville Morleigh, my cousin. Neville, my good friend, Lord Trent.” He watched as they shook hands and exchanged greetings. Then he asked, “What are you doing in London?”
“Can’t a fellow settle down? I live here now.” His smile faded. “I was so sad to learn of the deaths of Trevor and your father. Such heavy loss at once, and you were away at the time.”
“I was,” Caine returned, nodding, “And thank you.”
“So now you are heir to Hadley,” Neville said with a sigh. “The responsibility must be trying. I know I shouldn’t like it myself.”
“Neither of us was born with the expectation,” Caine admitted wryly, “but I believe I shall manage, as I’m certain you would do if the opportunity ever arose.”
Neville regarded him with a canny expression. “You must not think I envy you, Caine. I do not. You’re infinitely more suited to the job than I would ever hope to be.”
“How comforting to hear it.”
“But you don’t believe me, I can see, and think I can guess why. I read of your fiancée’s trial on the road from London last week. Everyone with the slightest reason to have sought her death must be suspect. Even myself.”
Caine said nothing to that, knowing that his silence would provoke Neville to explain himself more fully.
“I need nothing that you will gain, cousin. My own business ventures have been successful and I promise you the title would only hamper me in pursuit of those.”
“What sort of business ventures? Gambling?”
Neville grinned. “Ah, thinking of those card games we used to play, eh? You know I never won. That taught me never to rely on chance and especially not on my limited skills at gaming. I’m in shipping, properly insured and closely monitored. But I’m not so busy that I wouldn’t be happy to add my efforts to yours in determining who instigated this menace against your lady.”
“Why?”
His cousin’s shoulders shrugged with impatient resignation. “Word has it you’re looking for the culprit. And because she is your betrothed and will soon be one of our family, but I see you are still cautious. So be it.” He reached into his pocket and handed Caine a card. “This is my direction here in Town. Do come by if I can be of any assistance.”
Caine tucked the card away without looking at it. “If family is so important, why have you not visited since we were boys?”
“I have done. It is you who were away, first at university, then at war. As for me, I went abroad and sought my fortune. Business has brought me to London at least thrice each year and I always make time for Uncle and Aunt while I am here.” He smiled again. “So you see, I’ve not been remiss, except to keep correspondence with you.” He shrugged. “I fear I am not a great letter writer, but I have asked after your welfare whenever I had the opportunity. Have you done likewise?”
“I have,” Caine said. “The reports were not favorable.”
Neville looked confused. “No? Whom did you ask?”
“The earl, of course. He posed you as a ne’er-do-well, a gambler, drinker and waster of funds.”
Caine saw the instant hurt in his cousin’s expression and it looked genuine. Perhaps it was an act, but if it was, Neville had missed his calling and should be on stage.
“Well, then,” Neville said in a quiet voice. “I should go. Nice to have met you, Lord Trent. Good to see you again, cousin.” He turned abruptly and left.
“What do you think of him?” Caine asked Trent.
“That he was sorely troubled by the earl’s assessment,” Trent remarked. “What will you do?”
“Speak to my uncle, of course. I begin to suspect there might have been devious machinations afoot on his part to get me wed.”
“So you won’t comply with his condition if the earl has lied about Neville?”
Caine cast Trent a look of surprise. “Not marry Grace? I pledged myself to her and it cannot be undone unless she decides otherwise.”
Trent pursed his lips. “Can’t risk another breach-of-promise suit, eh?”
Caine had told Trent of Thoren-Snipes’s threat of that, and would discuss it no further. He dismissed the topic altogether. “This distraction has cost us time. Come, we must find that solicitor and see how Wardfelton’s affairs stand.”
*
Grace stitched for a week until her fingers were sore, wondering all the while where she would ever wear so many gowns. Four new ones for morning wear hung in her wardrobe, already finished. Two ball dresses were complete and her wedding gown lacked but the hemming and attaching the lace. She, Mrs. Oliver, Mrs. Bowden, Jane and two women from the village worked as constantly as they could.
“There!” she exclaimed to Mrs. Oliver as she held up the short jacket. “This riding habit has all the button holes bound. If you will trim it with the grosgrain edging, Jane can apply the buttons and it will be done!”
“You have the blouse yet to do,” Mrs. Oliver reminded her.
Mr. Judd appeared at the doorway to the morning room. “A young lady to see you, madam. I put her in the drawing room.”
“Thank you, Mr. Judd.” She laid aside the garment in her hand, happy for any excuse to leave the sewing to the other women. “Who is our visitor?” she asked the butler.
“A Miss Thoren-Snipes, ma’am. Should I send for tea?”
“No. I believe this will prove a rather brief visit,” Grace told him. She did not intend to offer that chit so much as a stale biscuit. However, Grace figured it might do well to hear whatever she had to say.
Grace patted her hair and smoothed down an errant strand that had escaped her chignon. She regretted not wearing one of her new frocks today, but she was saving them for Caine’s arrival. The old gray one she had on would have to do.
“Miss Thoren-Snipes. To what do I owe the honor of your unexpected visit?” Grace said by way of greeting as she entered the drawing room. She did not invite the woman to sit. “Have you ridden all the way from London?”
“No, I am visiting friends at Hollander House, but three miles distant. I felt I had to come and speak with you.”
“Concerning…?”
“Morleigh, of course,” the woman said, frowning at Grace. “Apparently, knowing him is all that we have in common. I did not think you’d be quite so…”
“Quite so what?” Grace asked, forcing a smile as she appraised the beauty of Caine’s former fiancée. Diminutive and dainty, dressed in a lovely riding costume of deep rose, Belinda Thoren-Snipes epitomized the English ideal of womanhood. She had perfect features, an hourglass figure, pale blond curls, dimpled cheeks and a girlish air. Any man would fall at her feet and worship her. Caine had been no exception.
“Forgive me, but you hardly seem the sort Captain Morleigh would ever choose to marry.” The girl’s comment was so sweetly made.
“Not your sort, you mean?” Grace kept her smile in place. “Well, I must suppose he decided against repeati
ng past mistakes.”
The woman sniffed as she dismissed Grace’s words with a flick of her hand. “I came to warn you, not to suffer insults.”
Miss Thoren-Snipes had an interesting pout as she fiddled nervously with her gloves. Grace noted that her breathing was rather rapid. No doubt she would like to say what she’d come to say and be gone. Fine with Grace.
“Warn me of what?”
Belinda’s rosebud mouth took on an ugly twist, her lips barely moving as she spoke. “Caine Morleigh is a dangerous man, Miss Renfair. Not a proper candidate for marriage to anyone.”
Grace pursed her own lips and raised her eyebrows as she digested that. “I have heard your opinion of the good captain repeated in Town. However your current version sounds considerably worse. Before he was only so ghastly looking you could not abide his presence. And cold, I believe you said. Now he’s become dangerous, as well? How so?”
“He…he… He attacked me! With vicious words and in a public place in front of people! He’s a horrible man with no tender feelings. None!”
Indeed, the woman appeared upset. It was entirely possible that Caine had said something to her if approached, but Grace could not believe he had sought her out to do so.
“So you believe that, on your word alone, I should cancel my wedding?” Grace asked.
“Yes! You must! I had to come and tell you. To warn you!” She crossed the room hurriedly and stood directly before Grace. Her tone was vehement. “The man has killed people, you know, and it has unhinged his mind. You should have heard the things he said to me! So cold and forbidding! He is a crazed ruffian tricked out like a gentleman, but do not let yourself be fooled. He will do you harm one day if you are unwise enough to marry him. Why, I do not doubt he was the one who hired someone to assault you on the road, probably to kill you because he suddenly realized his mistake in proposing. Speculation about that is all over Town, you know.”
Grace had heard quite enough. “If this is the new tale you’re spinning for society’s consumption, you go too far. Continue spreading these lies and I will encourage him in every way possible to sue you for defamation of his character.”
“He would not dare sue me!” she cried.
Grace inclined her head as if thinking about that. “Perhaps not. He might simply kill you and prove you right.”
“Ooh, you are a shameless, fortune-seeking hussy! Even worse than he! I hope you are miserable together, do you hear? Miserable! I hope you die!”
She stomped out of the drawing room and down the vestibule, the heels of her riding boots clacking rapidly on the tiles.
Grace stood at the drawing-room entrance and watched as Judd opened the front door for her exit.
She had an enemy in that one. Then a darker thought dawned. The jealous Belinda was dead set against the wedding and had gone to quite uncomfortable lengths to persuade Grace not to carry through. Could Caine’s former fiancée have hired the highwayman? Those parting words made Grace wonder.
Chapter Ten
Over a week had passed and Caine still had found no answer. He had written and reassured Grace that Belinda was incapable of arranging a bowl of flowers by herself, let alone a murder. The very idea was laughable. Her visit to Grace was nothing more than a vitriolic attempt to ruin his life because he had scorned her at the jewelers.
The investigation was proving futile in most regards, but at least Neville was less of a suspect now. It seemed he really was financially secure, had recently married and either owned or managed a shipping company. The details of his business remained a puzzle.
Today, Caine and Trent called upon him again, hoping to get answers and put the pieces of that puzzle together.
Neville’s address had been the initial surprise, a town house right in Mayfair, his wife’s inheritance from Lord Ludmore. Caine vaguely remembered the old man. Apparently, Neville had appropriated the very rich widow.
Caine and Trent were guided to an exquisitely furnished drawing room and announced. Neville was already there, along with a stunning young woman.
“Greetings!” Neville said with a welcoming smile as he stood. “My dear, I should like to present my cousin, Captain Caine Morleigh and his friend, Lord Trent. Gentlemen, my wife, Miranda.”
Caine and Trent bowed over her hand in turn. “It is so good to meet you both,” she said. “Congratulations on your impending marriage, Captain. And, Lord Trent, we are happy that our cousin has your kind support in the enquiry of the unfortunate attack on his betrothed. Will you stay for a light supper with us?”
“No, thank you. Kind of you to offer, ma’am, but not tonight,” Caine said. “We are expected elsewhere.”
“Another time, perhaps.”
Neville smiled his approval of his wife’s niceties and raised a brow in some unspoken suggestion. She gave an almost imperceptible nod to it, then addressed Caine and Trent. “If you will excuse me, sirs, I shall absent myself and leave you to your visit. I do hope we will meet again soon in happier circumstances.”
“I’m certain we will,” Caine replied politely.
They watched her leave and close the door behind her, a graceful exit. “She is charming and very beautiful,” Caine told Neville.
“Titled and wealthy, too,” Neville agreed with a grin. “So you see I can have no designs on the earl’s largesse.” He sighed. “I am content beyond imagining.” He gestured to a grouping of chairs. “Please, do sit down.”
“Thank you,” Caine said.
“About this wealth and contentment of yours. Uncle knows, does he?” Caine asked, allowing his suspicion to show.
Neville’s smile faltered. “I thought he did. After you told me the things he said to you about me, I went to question him, but he would not receive me when I called. Perhaps he was thinking of my father and confused the two of us in his mind. I regret the misunderstanding. His opinion matters a great deal to me, Caine. So does yours.”
“Duly noted,” Caine replied. “You could easily right things if you would agree to spill a few secrets about your business activities and recent whereabouts.”
“Perhaps, but unfortunately I am unable to lay everything bare. My business affairs are my own and must remain so. My whereabouts these past few weeks consisted of traveling with my wife. Our wedding trip, you see. However, I take no offense at your asking and my offer to aid you still holds. Anything I can do, you have but to ask.”
“Thank you,” Caine said. “I will let you know.” He rose to leave. “Come along, Trent. We should see the solicitor if we can find him.”
“Wardfelton’s man?” Neville asked as he followed them out of the drawing room into the foyer. His question revealed that he had already done a bit of detective work without being asked.
“Yes. Do you know him?” Caine asked.
“I know of him. Elusive, is he? Look, I have this friend, an enquiry agent of sorts,” Neville declared. “He has worked for me on several occasions in my business doings and has an amazing way of locating people and ferreting out private information.”
Caine wondered if the fellow might ferret out some of Neville’s for a proper price.
Neville continued. “You think Wardfelton’s solicitor is the one? Why would he be after Grace?”
“We haven’t been able to find the man to ask,” Trent declared. “Caine has done everything we know to locate him.”
“My Mr. Cockerel will find him,” Neville said. “Meanwhile, shouldn’t you be readying for your wedding? It is…what? Only a week away now.”
“Not to worry. I’ll be ready,” Caine assured him.
“Aunt asked if
Miranda and I would attend. Would you mind if we came?” Neville asked. “I would appreciate the opportunity to square things with Uncle and also, Miranda and I would love to be there to meet your bride and help celebrate your marriage.”
“Yes, of course you may come,” Caine said. He would not feel at all comfortable with having Neville anywhere near Wildenhurst and Grace if there was a chance he could be the one responsible for the recent attack. But Caine felt he could hardly retract his aunt’s invitation on a slight suspicion. In fact, he did not really want to believe Neville was guilty. “Why not plan to travel with the family? Six days from today, at first light.”
“Excellent idea. But six days, when the wedding is in seven, Caine? Your lady must be wondering if you even remember she’s there waiting.”
They were at the front door now and Caine was past ready to leave, still uneasy about discussing plans in front of Neville, not ready to trust him fully. But the man stood between him and the door, obviously reluctant to end the conversation. Caine had to wonder if his cousin was that delighted to reestablish the familial connection or if he was busy formulating plans for the next assault.
“I will go to the country earlier than the others,” Caine said, unwilling to reveal his exact itinerary to one whom he didn’t fully trust.
“And I’ll be with you,” Trent announced. “There might be arrangements that require assistance!” He obviously realized Caine’s attempt at misdirection. “I could attend to errands, all things a groomsman should do, eh?”
“Such as?” Caine asked, forgetting Neville altogether when faced with the idea of Trent hanging about Grace when he obviously liked her so much. Trent had hardly passed a day since their last visit to Wildenhurst without mentioning how marvelous Grace was.
