“The earl?”
Matthew seemed to feel her uneasiness and frowned. “I know that look, Kate. Are his intentions honorable?”
His voice held a sharp edge. Kate chewed the inside of her cheek. What could she say? Honorable? She supposed so, if marrying without love was honorable.
But Matthew forged on. “Do you love him?”
Kate peered into her brother’s wary blue eyes and looked away, nodding yes.
“Kate, look at me. Has this confounded earl hurt you in some way?”
Kate shook her head sideways.
“Then who the blazes is this earl that has twisted your heart?”
Kate laid a hand on his arm. “I love him, Matthew, but I don’t know if he loves me."
“Ah.” Matthew relaxed. “So the gentleman has not professed his love for you.”
“He wants to marry me. But he’s not said he loves me.”
“That’s all?" Matthew said. “He doesn’t hate you, does he?"
“No.”
Her brother didn’t understand. She wondered if any man would understand. Matthew thought of marriage as more of a business deal than a loving bond. He had watched his father suffer from the loss of a loving wife, and Matthew never wanted that to happen to him.
No, when Matthew married it would not be for love, but when she married, it would. Her brother seemed to have everything figured out, as if life were some shipping ledger. Orderly and precise. But life wasn’t like that.
She caught a peek of her brother’s fatherly expression and considered it was best to tell him everything before he discovered the sordid information from Charlotte or somebody else.
“There is something else,” she said, pulling out of his grip.
“What have you done now?”
Kate turned away, struggling with the best way to tell him about her stay in England. “Well, the first day in England I had to stay at an inn, and, um, that is to say, a thief died at the end of my bed with a knife to his heart.”
Matthew’s eye widened. “I don’t believe I heard that correctly.”
Kate’s chest tightened. “You heard correctly. A man died at the end of my bed with a knife to his heart. Well, in essence, he died on the floor, but what’s the difference?"
Matthew shot from his seat, thrusting a hard fist into the palm of his hand. Kate had never feared her brother before. He was always so calm and cool. But the serene gentleman she knew from back home had completely disappeared. His eyes blazed with fire as he pointed a shaking finger at her. “Did you kill him? For heaven's sake, Kate! Did you?”
“No, well, not exactly.”
His lips went taut as she tried to explain.
“Calm down. As I said before, I stayed at an inn the first day I came to England, because of the storm, you see. The earl was sleeping in the chambers next door. It was all quite innocent.” That was the wrong thing to say.
Matthew’s forehead crinkled into a mass of fierce lines. “You mean to tell me, you met this earl at a country inn? By yourself?”
Kate sank deeper into her seat as she watched her brother’s nerves unravel like a massive ball of yarn.
“And where the hell was Mrs. Hollingsworth all this time?" he snapped.
“Will you please let me finish?” Kate pleaded. “And don’t curse. This is not as bad as it sounds.” Matthew clamped his jaw shut as she continued. “It all makes perfect sense.”
But Kate gasped when she saw her brother’s knuckles turn white and the vein pop out on the side of his neck. “You see, that evening a man came into my room and threatened me."
Matthew’s face darkened. “No, I fail to see anything at the moment!” He mumbled another curse and started pacing. “What happened next?”
Kate blinked. Her brother was overreacting. “The intruder held a dagger. He wanted to kill the earl and asked me where his lordship was.” She shrugged. “Of course, just because the earl carried me to his chambers did not mean–”
“STOP!” Matthew glared into her eyes. “Are you telling me this earl carried you to his room at the inn. A man, Kate? A full blooded male?”
Kate scoffed. “What other kind of males are there?”
He stared at her in silence. Kate frowned. What was the matter with him anyway? She wasn’t in danger. Tristan had saved her. “Listen to me. This is all so simple. When I refused to tell the intruder that the earl resided in the room next door, well, needless to say, it was not pleasant.”
Matthew’s face turned a blotchy red. “Did he hurt you?”
Kate shot him a wide-eyed look. “Oh, no, nothing like that.”
Matthew swallowed hard. “What happened?”
“The earl came in and saved me. That’s what happened. The intruder fell on his knife and died at the foot of my bed. That night, Lord Lancewood watched over me in his own bedchamber since mine was, well, bloody."
She sucked in a breath of air and exhaled. “There. Now, I’ve said it."
Matthew stared back in mute horror. His knees buckled and he fell hard into the wing chair. “Yes, you certainly have.”
Before the family’s trip to Drury Lane later that evening, Matthew joined Devin in the drawing room. He hadn’t seen the marquess since the two were children. When his father traveled with Kate years ago, Matthew had stayed behind.
The marquess assured Matthew that Lord Lancewood was an honorable man. But when Captain Gaston’s name came up, it was all Matthew could do to control his temper.
Matthew strode about the room, his hands clasped behind his back, his mouth grim. “Gaston worked for my father. My father knew he was a good captain, so he kept him on. But the man had a dark side my father, like Kate, has never seen.”
He stopped and glanced back at Devin. “I witnessed the captain kill one of his own sailors when I was sixteen. I told my father, but he said it was probably self-defense. Gaston never knew I had seen the murder. I suspect the man has killed before, but I have no proof. I admit, he was a good seaman, and my father liked to think the best of people.”
Matthew helped himself to another brandy. “Believe me, I kept my eye on the man. But he’s been as clean as the deck after a storm. Almost too clean.”
Devin leaned back in his chair, his dark brows knitted into a frown. “Why didn’t you push your father to believe you?"
“Like I said, I had no proof, and the captain has been a true gentleman, nothing problematic, at least from what I could detect. But, the crux of the matter is, I haven’t been exactly on business since Kate’s been here. After my father’s death, I discovered his money was being embezzled. And I had a gut feeling that my father had been murdered at sea.”
Devin sat up. “Murdered?”
Matthew nodded. “I feared that Captain Gaston was involved somehow, and that he hired someone aboard my father’s ship to throw him overboard. After we heard word of the incident that my father was lost at sea, I was attacked, along with a friend of my father’s at a Boston tavern. That was enough for me to send Kate to visit you. I believed her to be safe here, at least safer than Boston, until I figured this whole thing out.” His face darkened. “But after what she told me about the inn and the earl, I have to ask myself what I was thinking.”
Matthew suppressed a sigh and spread his hands along the piano, clinking a few keys. “My father was to bring home a new flute for Kate. She was so excited.”
He plucked middle C with his forefinger. “That’s the story, Devin. I know the captain’s an embezzler and a cold-blooded killer. He was probably involved in the death of my father, but there’s no proof. Gaston wasn’t even aboard the ship when my father died."
Devin finally shook his head and blew out a puff of air. “Unbelievable.”
Matthew moved to the sofa. “Unbelievable, but true.”
A minute later Kate opened the door and poked her head inside the drawing room. “Have you two finished gossiping about me?”
Matthew threw a grin her way and turned toward Devin. “What was the na
me of that play we’re going to view from your father’s box? Was not one of the characters named Kate?”
Kate threw her hands to her hips and scowled. “Matthew, please do not embarrass me.” Her brother was an expert on all of Shakespeare’s plays and able to recite most of them by heart. He never gave up a chance to tease her.
Devin laughed. “How perceptive, Matthew. The name of the play is, “The Taming of the Shrew."
Chapter Thirteen
“From the looks of things, my lord, Fletcher seems to have met his death by some vicious means. No diamond in sight.” Andrews paused to take out a dirty yellow handkerchief and blow his nose. An evening fire crackled in the library of the Lancewood townhouse as Tristan listened to the Runner’s findings.
A shadow danced on the far wall as Tristan rose from his chair and peered at the sparks sputtering from the hearth. What the devil was going on here? “Where was he found?”
“The magistrate said the body was found by the docks. Another body was found in the river, caught on one of the piers.”
Sinking his hefty body into the sofa, Andrews scratched his head. “Both throats slashed. One seemed to be a sailor. Clothes and all. Ghastly way to go, I say. The other body had clothes of a gentleman. I knew the dead man could be Fletcher so I sought out the man’s sister. She identified the rare pocket watch found on the body. It was Fletcher’s all right. The man never went anywhere without it.”
Tristan unbuttoned his blue brocade coat and picked up his brandy glass, raising it slowly to his mouth. Was the diamond in the enemy’s hand? Or was it truly lost now?
“What do you make of all this, Andrews?”
“I believe Fletcher was murdered because he carried something of value. If he did have the diamond, any greedy villain would kill for that. The tavern owner mentioned that he thought he saw a man of Fletcher’s description having a drink with a young sailor. Fits, don’t it. And it seems many knew about Fletcher’s involvement with the diamond.”
Andrews blew his nose again and sniffed. “But then again, my lord, may have nothing to do with the diamond at all. Cutthroats and thieves aplenty down by the docks.”
Tristan placed his crystal glass upon the mahogany end table and weighed the information. Could someone be after the diamond for pure greed? Or could it be possible someone wanted to cause more havoc in India by having the gem disappear altogether? Could England’s enemy be biding their time?
He turned to Andrews. The motives were endless. “Perhaps Fletcher knew about the intruder at the inn.” And Kate. Tristan’s heart leapt in alarm. Could someone believe she had the diamond or relevant information?
Andrews shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “There is one more thing, my lord.”
Tristan pressed his lips together. “Go on.”
“I was investigating Lord Douberry. A Captain Sharp, if you know what I mean.”
Tristan nodded, scowling as he recalled the baron’s insult and the man’s threat to Kate. But the notion of the man working against England set his teeth on edge. He was beginning to think the blasted diamond was cursed after all.
“Douberry’s a gambler, well-schooled in his cheating habits,” Tristan offered. “As I mentioned before, I not only humiliated him by exposing him, I emptied his pocketbook at the same time."
Andrews leaned forward. “I was looking into all the possibilities of anyone wishing you harm. The baron seems to fit that category perfectly. As you probably know, the baron’s wife has a propensity to gamble as much as her husband. I have it from my best sources the lady has involved herself in a woman’s gambling house, or should I say houses. She loses her husband’s money faster than Prinny can spend his. She is also a slave to her laudanum.”
“Opiates? It’s not unheard of. I hear many in Society have a liking for it.”
“It’s not just a liking, my lord. They go mad if they don’t have their fix of laudanum. Stark raving mad.”
Tristan glanced at the clock, not wanting to miss the entire play or Kate. He still had time. He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. He would have to send word to Whitehall about Andrews’s findings as well. What a devil of a mess. “I was hoping for more information about the diamond. Is that all you have for me tonight?”
“No, my lord,” Andrews said with a hesitant look. “It has come to my attention that your mother has been involved in these clandestine gambling meetings for quite a while now.”
Tristan’s jaw dropped. “You jest?”
Andrews cleared his throat. “No, my lord. I have it from a most reliable source.”
A full moon illuminated the duke’s entourage as the carriage rolled toward Drury Lane. Wearing a low cut, green silk gown, Kate was eager to enter the theater with Matthew and her cousins. She was grateful her brother had not gone into full-blown hysterics over the incident at the inn, though he had been quite upset. Kate could only breathe a sigh of relief at his softening attitude. Perhaps his list of suitors might be tossed into the fire after all.
As they walked into the theater, Kate noticed the back of Matthew’s head drop as he whispered something to Devin. What were they up to now? She fell a few steps behind the group, her mind running a hundred different directions when her arm was jerked aside as she was about to enter the duke’s box.
“Miss Wilcox, you do look lovely tonight,” Lord Douberry sputtered, holding her elbow.
Kate turned to the man, more surprised than shocked. The smell of cheap wine engulfed him. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Matthew had spun around to confront the swaying man. If looks could kill, the baron would be a dead man!
Kate’s mouth stretched into a thin-lipped smile as she extricated herself from the baron’s grip. “Lord Douberry, so good to see you again. I do hope you enjoy the play.” With a quick step, she nudged her way into the box, explaining to Matthew that the man was foxed.
Matthew gave her one of those fatherly frowns and took his seat. “And where is the illustrious earl? I would gather that this play might do him some good with the likes of you.”
Kate shot her brother a twisted smile. Matthew was comparing her to a shrew similar to the character in the play. With a twinge of regret, she recalled that Tristan had conveyed his apologies that he might be late tonight due to an important business engagement. Something about that diamond, she supposed. Or maybe it was Lady Helen. Kate had been formally introduced to the woman days ago, and Tristan probably had no idea.
“You are quite the jester, are you not, dear brother?”
Matthew shrugged, his blue eyes twinkling.
Kate ignored him and kept her gaze on the half-empty box across from her where Edward and his mother sat. Kate picked up her opera glasses and caught sight of the countess staring at her with eyes as cold as the Thames in winter.
A ripple of uneasiness trickled down her spine as she lowered the glasses. The lady hated her. That much was obvious. It wasn’t as if Kate was going to marry Tristan. He didn’t love her, so why should his mother’s loathing bother her?
Tristan descended from his carriage and hurried toward the theater, cringing as he recalled Andrews’ words, “Your mother has been involved in these clandestine gambling meetings...”
At first, Tristan felt only contempt for his mother’s behavior, having finally understood why her pockets had always emptied so quickly. But then his heart softened when he realized that a life without a husband at home must have been so unbearable that she’d sought comfort elsewhere, even if it were gambling.
He recalled Perkins telling him of a fall she had taken right after Tristan was born. The countess had never been the same after that. But Perkins had held back from saying something else. It was as if the man thought the fall was not an accident. Had someone pushed her?
Not knowing exactly what he would do when he confronted his mother on the subject of gambling in the darker world of London, Tristan was determined he would help her break the horrid habit. The fact that she didn’t love Tristan was beside t
he point. The icy feeling, even for his mother, was melting. Yes, Miss Katherine Wilcox had a tremendous positive effect on his heart and his way of life.
“Oh, Lord Lancewood! Over here!” Only two steps away from the door to Drury Lane, Tristan froze at the sound of that peacock whine.
Feigning a smile, he twisted around to view Lady Helen swiftly approaching with her father by her side. Blast and double blast. The little chit had cornered him again. He fought back a frown and squared his shoulders.
“Lord Lancewood,” she said breathlessly. “I see you are late as well. How fortunate.”
Before Tristan could answer, the lady gestured to her father to continue inside the theater without her. Tristan blinked in awe. He was alone with her.
Upon entering the theater, the pushy woman clutched his elbow and ushered him toward the stairs. Tristan racked his brain trying to think whose box her father could be sitting in.
“Lady Helen, I believe your father is at a loss without your company. Perhaps I could escort you to his group.”
“Oh,” she said, fluttering her lashes. “No need to worry. My father’s seated in Rushting’s box. He won’t miss me at all.”
She tightened her grip on his arm and moved up the steps. “I believe your box will do quite nicely.”
Tristan gritted his teeth, frantic to escape. Glancing at his aching elbow, he had a sinking feeling that he was stuck with the brazen woman for the remainder of the play. He shuddered to think of Kate’s reaction when she saw him with Lady Helen. Her box stood directly opposite his.
And there was no denying Kate would see him. He drew in a deep breath, hesitating before he entered his box. Being seen with last Season’s flame would surely set the ton’s tongues on fire.
The moment Tristan stepped into his box, Edward shook his head and responded with a curt nod to Lady Helen.
Tristan bent over his brother’s shoulder and whispered with clenched teeth, “For your information, this was not my idea.”
Edward raised an amused brow and looked away. “Don’t matter.”
Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 18
