The Mysterious Lord Millcroft

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Well, hello to you, too.’ The weasel stepped forward and kissed her hand. His eyes latched themselves on to Gem’s cleavage. ‘You look delightful this evening, Lady Clarissa.’

  ‘Indeed she does.’ Despite being thoroughly annoyed at her, the urge to protect her from these men was overwhelming and Seb found himself reaching for the hand and purposefully extricating it from Lord Gaines’s grip to wrap it around his. He was seriously tempted to take off his coat and drape it around her bared shoulders. The glamorous coral gown, although not overly revealing by tonnish standards, was too daring for Penhurst’s friends. ‘I would be honoured if you would take a turn about the room with me, my lady.’

  ‘I believe I should like that very much, my lord.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Were you purposely ignoring me?’

  ‘No. Why would I do that?’ As he wasn’t looking at her it was difficult to ascertain if he was telling the truth. ‘What can you tell me about this house?’

  That it was little better than a prison for poor Penny. Desolate and miles from anywhere. ‘Oh, dear. How very boring—but if you insist. The original building is medieval and now forms the central entranceway. The giant fireplace there is fourteenth century. The east and west wings were both built by the third Viscount Penhurst nearly a century ago to double the number of bedrooms and add the ballroom.’

  ‘Impressive, although the bedrooms are less so. There is barely enough room to swing a cat in the one I have been given.’

  Clarissa couldn’t help but smile at his dismissive tone. Overt displays of wealth and status really didn’t affect him in quite the same way they did most people. ‘I think you will find the same in most great houses. They tend to compromise on size of bedchambers to ensure an adequate number of guest rooms for events just like this. Poor you, though I pity that cat more.’ Some unexplained force made her run her palm greedily along the shape of his bicep before she stopped herself. ‘As I am a long-standing friend, Penny always puts me in one of the huge rooms at the back on the family floor. Aside from a magnificent and decadent amount of space I also get a splendid view of the sea—or at least I would if I had remembered to pack my opera glasses.’

  Seb’s face turned for the first time since they had started their slow perambulation, his deadpan expression betrayed by his eyes. ‘I have a telescope.’

  ‘Who brings a telescope to a house party?’

  ‘A spy.’ His voice had dropped to an amused whisper that sent goosebumps rising all over her neck. ‘We always come prepared for every eventuality.’ He tugged her to follow him to the emptier end of the room. ‘Have you ever ventured down to the cellars?’

  ‘I have never had cause to.’

  He looked oddly disappointed. ‘Then I don’t suppose you know if there are any tunnels or secret entrances?’

  Tunnels and secret entrances? She was beginning to suspect the mysterious Lord Millcroft might not have come here strictly on the off chance. ‘You mean like smugglers’ tunnels? Here?’

  He shrugged and stared off into the distance as if checking they were not being watched. ‘Merely out of interest. Not so long ago this coastline would have been a hive of smuggling activity. Many buildings along these cliffs have a hidden warren of caves beneath them, most of which would have been used to hide contraband from the authorities. It can’t hurt to investigate them if they exist—to see if they collide with other old tunnels. I’m a spy, remember. Being nosy goes with the territory.’

  Clarissa was getting a decidedly uneasy feeling, like an itch which refused to be scratched. Her own voice dropped to a conspiratorial hiss. ‘Do you suspect Penhurst?’

  ‘No.’ He appeared uncomfortable at the suggestion. ‘Of course I don’t. But he runs with a very dubious crowd, don’t you agree, Gem? Men I notice you dislike with a vengeance. I would be remiss in my duty if I didn’t explore every suspicion or suspicious person. Viscount Regis, for example—where does his money come from? He’s never short of it, yet his estate has been on the verge of ruin for years. Gaines is another one. His reckless spending does not bear any resemblance to his small allowance and lack of property.’

  ‘Perhaps they make their money through gambling. All of Penhurst’s set practically live in the hells.’ As did he. Penny’s dowry must surely have been spent long ago on her husband’s hedonistic lifestyle? Her eyes scanned the room critically as if seeing it properly for the first time. Had it been so luxurious when Penny had been a new bride? The paintings certainly had been dirtier, the gilt on their frames dulled by years of neglect. There had been a distinct lack of the valuable antiques one would expect to find in a house of this age. The furnishings then had been old and outdated. Clumsy, uncomfortable Tudor and Stuart relics which had disappeared in the last few years to be replaced with sumptuous chairs and sofas covered in fashionable, plush brocade. Her friend’s dowry had been good, but nowhere near that good. Was this the fortuitous result of gambling? Hardly.

  Seb touched her arm and smiled as if he could read her mind and found her vivid leap of imagination funny. ‘Most money is made through speculation nowadays, not that pure-bred aristocrats would ever admit to such a thing. Only upstarts like Millcroft or new money brag about such investments. Please take my questions at face value. I have been doing this job for so many years now, I ask them as a matter of course, even when there is no cause to do so. Besides, we both know I am useless at making small talk. Even with you.’

  He swiftly changed the subject, but the seeds of doubt had been sown and consequently Clarissa’s mind was racing, not helped by the fact that Seb was behaving differently. He was more distant, more the invented Lord Millcroft than the man she knew, and that change also bothered her. The last time she had seen the real Seb had been at the inn this morning, and the more she thought about it, the more she believed the switch of persona had also happened in that hired room. The endearing and awkward ally had walked in and his brash alter-ego had strode out. She missed the real Seb. Missed the way that man made her feel.

  Penhurst wandered over with Penny in tow and was soon followed by Westbridge, who had extricated his arm from Lady Olivia’s to come to Clarissa. What began as a group chat soon petered into just Clarissa and her Duke as first Seb, then the others drifted away.

  ‘I am not sure I approve of Millcroft.’ Westbridge sounded gloriously churlish. ‘People are beginning to talk about the pair of you.’

  ‘They are?’ How splendid. ‘Pray, what do they say?’

  ‘That he is sweet on you.’ The idea made her pulse flutter.

  ‘Lord Millcroft is very sweet.’

  ‘Sweet?’ An unattractive blood vessel pulsed near his eye as he scowled. ‘The man is a crook. And a disrespectful one at that. Did you not see the half-hearted attempt at a bow he welcomed me with?’ She had, although the slight incline of Seb’s dark head hardly constituted a bow by any definition, more an acknowledgement they co-existed on the same planet. ‘It shows scant regard for the proper formalities.’

  ‘Conversely, that is one of the things I like about him the most. Seb is delightfully informal.’ Westbridge never would have called unannounced at her bedchamber or discussed scandalous things with her. He mostly discussed himself. And largely with himself. All Clarissa had to do was nod at the right time.

  ‘Seb!’ The pulsing vessel went into a gallop as his face contorted. ‘You scarcely know the fellow and yet he has given you leave to call him by his name and not his full name either! Please tell me you have not been so silly as to grant him the same privilege? Tell me he doesn’t call you Clarissa, my lady.’

  ‘He doesn’t.’ Westbridge sagged with relief. ‘He calls me Gem—because in his eyes I am as precious as a diamond.’ Or at least that was why she hoped he called her by the pet name. He could just as easily see her as a big joke. The girl in rags with jam on her nightdress. ‘I rather lik
e it.’ While he was consumed with jealousy, now might be a good time to push him. ‘In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you started to drop the formalities, as well. Would you call me simply Clarissa?’

  This concession seemed to placate him because he nodded, the irritating blood vessel calmed to the occasional twitch. ‘I should be honoured to.’

  She let the silence hang for a few moments, waiting for him to ask her to call him Albert, but he didn’t. Pride prevented her from asking him to extend the courtesy, so she tried a different tack to test the waters. ‘How was your journey here, your Grace?’

  ‘Tolerable. The state of the lanes across the South Downs leaves a lot to be desired. Penhurst should see to that. One of the first things I did when I inherited the dukedom was to have the lanes approaching my estate cobbled and lined with becoming trees. It is important to give off the correct impression, don’t you think?’ Typically, he failed to notice the brittle smile she offered in reply, largely because he was back to talking about himself.

  * * *

  Her hosts had sat her nowhere near either Seb or Westbridge at dinner. As soon as the meal was over the men retired for port and cigars and had remained retired for over two hours now. Clarissa kept herself entertained by chatting to whichever ladies took her fancy until somebody suggested they all read aloud a play that one of them had brought with her. Most of the ladies, including Penny, clambered for a part, which left Clarissa at a bit of a loss. Obviously, she declined her proffered part. Trying to read alone was struggle enough, doing it in front of this gaggle of judgemental females would be a catastrophe. Instead, she took herself to the other end of the room where she could see down the hallway and pretended to read a book that someone else had left lying around while counting the seconds till the gentlemen reappeared. From the noisy laughter coming from the billiard room, that was likely to be some way off.

  She was just about to call it a night when she saw a familiar shape moving on stealthy feet further down the hallway until he disappeared around the corner. The way Seb kept checking left and right piqued her interest. He was working.

  Quietly and with the minimum of fuss, Clarissa slid the book to the arm of the chair and slipped casually from the room. The door to the billiard room was open a crack, so she quickly darted past in case she was seen and followed Seb around the corner. The hall beyond was empty, the lights dim. She checked the deserted ballroom and the small library, then stopped dead outside the only other door in this lesser-used wing—Penhurst’s study.

  As it was a room she had never entered—why would she?—Clarissa pressed her ear to the wood to listen. If Seb had been invited by their host and she suddenly barged in, it would look very odd and probably compromise Seb’s mission. After a full minute of hearing nothing, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

  The room was dark and a little ominous. The ancient wood panelling made the night blacker, while the ghostly shapes created by the weak moonlight added to the eerie feel. It smelled of too much stale tobacco and hard spirits, causing her nose to wrinkle at the acrid scent. The involuntary shiver made her wrap her arms around her middle and all at once Clarissa was scared.

  ‘Seb?’ She whispered his name, wondering where else he could possibly be, yet was still startled when his shadowy form emerged from his hiding place behind the curtain.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing.’ The fact that he, too, was whispering spoke volumes. ‘Why are you creeping about Penhurst’s study in the dark?’

  He stared back blandly. It was all the confirmation she needed. ‘You do suspect Penhurst!’ Shocked, Clarissa leaned against a plinth, gripping the shamelessly naked statue of Aphrodite that stood upon it. ‘You lied to me!’

  ‘I didn’t lie.’ He raked a frustrated hand through his hair as she gaped at him for the falsehood. The only saving grace was that his expression was wretched. ‘All right, I did once or twice... I tried not to lie... I hated lying to you... But you have to understand this is my job. I was sent here on a specific mission. An important mission. Out of necessity, the line between deception and truth has to be blurred.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness! Poor Penny...’

  ‘You cannot breathe a word of this to your friend.’ He rushed forward and his hands came to rest on her arms, his eyes more serious and steely than she had ever seen them. Leatham the fearless spy, not the man who couldn’t flirt.

  ‘But...’ His fingers came up and covered her lips and his tone was urgent. Determined. Almost ruthless.

  ‘There can be no buts. If my mission causes you a conflict of interest, then I will have you removed and returned to your sister’s tonight. Under guard. I’ve lost enough men to this murderous gang and I won’t willingly lose another.’ As if seeing his hands for the first time he suddenly let go of her and took a step back. ‘I’m sorry about your friend. I like Penny a great deal and I am certain she is innocent of any of this—but Penhurst reeks of guilt and it is my mission to prove it. These are not nice men, Gem. They are cutthroats and Penhurst is one of them. Our intelligence suggests he now runs the entire distribution network here in the south-east. And we are talking thousands of barrels of illegal French brandy. Thousands.’

  ‘Penhurst is a smuggler? You are sure of it? Is it such a dreadful crime to evade paying the duty?’

  ‘I’m afraid it gets worse. This gang are not your run-of-the-mill smugglers out to make fast money. The profit from their huge empire goes directly to the supporters of Napoleon. We believe they are trying to raise an army to continue what he started. An army destined for here. Anyone who supports it in any way is a traitor to the Crown.’

  Her mind scrabbled to take it all in. Question after question popped into her thoughts like champagne bubbles, each bursting and drifting away as another more pressing one hurried behind so quickly that her lips failed to form a single word. It was all so surreal, yet the more she thought about it, also alarmingly possible. Penhurst was a monster with the morals of an alley cat. Cold, spiteful, selfish and thoroughly debauched. Clarissa had never liked him. If she was being brutally honest with herself, she hated him and all his odious friends. Always had. Was that hatred clouding her judgement? Was he capable of being in league with smugglers to feather his own nest? He was certainly greedy. He had spent Penny’s dowry like water and quickly, too. Yet there had been a significant uplift in his fortunes since. These frequent, decadent house parties were merely the tip of the iceberg as far as his spending was concerned. This house and their Mayfair town house were now stuffed to the rafters with the latest furnishings, tawdry new gilt had been applied to every frame and chair leg. Penhurst’s wardrobe alone must have cost a king’s ransom. Even the bronze Aphrodite, bared bosoms jutting on her silly plinth, was a flagrant ostentation. So many things were falling into place because they suddenly made perfect sense.

  Penhurst had a fortune and, unless he had made some very clever investments with Penny’s dowry, there was no other explanation for its sudden appearance. But was he capable of treason? Was he that greedy? That wicked? Was there the slimmest chance Seb was completely wrong? Deep in her bones she feared she knew the answer.

  ‘I won’t say anything.’ Not yet at least. Defending a traitor was indefensible no matter who he was married to. There would be no need for guards to ensure her silence, her fear for her friend was enough. Penny didn’t need to know about these outrageous allegations while Seb and the British government had no evidence to prove it. She could protect her from that at least. When the time came, if the time came, Clarissa would bend over backwards to save her friend. How? She didn’t yet know, but she would find a way to protect Penny even if all she could do was give her enough warning to hide in exile before the scandal blew wide open.

  Poor Penny.

  The initial chill upon entering the room permeated her entire body, she felt dangerously light-headed and nauseous, and found hers
elf rushing to the window to open it, leaning heavily on the sill as she gulped in cleansing breaths. Seb had known this all along and used her to infiltrate Penhurst’s circle. More things slotted into place as she remembered they had renewed their acquaintance when Penhurst had introduced them after he in turn had been introduced to the mysterious lord fresh from the Antipodes by the Earl of Upminster. A man who was so high up in the Foreign Office he had the ear of the King. Everyone knew that.

  Seb had confessed to being a spy and admitted he was seeking high-ranking aristocrats involved in the crime—but all along he had known who the aristocrat was and she had helped to thrust him into Penhurst’s circle, unwittingly putting her dearest friend’s very existence in jeopardy as a result. Knowing he was forbidden to tell her more than his mission allowed didn’t make his betrayal any easier to bear. Because right now she did feel betrayed, and frightened. So very frightened. ‘What happens next?’

  He came to stand beside her and, to his credit, looked as wretched about the whole sorry situation as she felt. ‘At the moment all we have are well-grounded suspicions. It is my job to find enough evidence to arrest him and, by default, every minion who works under him.’

  ‘And if you get enough evidence?’

  He stared down at the floor for a few moments, then his dark eyes slowly rose to meet hers. Unwavering but unapologetic. ‘That is for the law to decide. I just catch them.’

  For years, Clarissa had wished for a way for Penny to be free of her husband, but not like this. The danger, the scandal, the ramifications of treason did not bear thinking about. Like all traitors, Penhurst would hang. ‘What about Penny?’

  ‘I will do whatever I can to protect her if she is innocent.’ His eyes dipped back to the floor and she realised he had no choice. For King and country he would have to do whatever was necessary.