Married by Moonlight

by Heather Boyd

  “I am Lord Sorenson, and I am commissioned by Bow Street to investigate a crime committed at your employer’s residence on the night of May five.” He took a seat opposite Toombs, noting the man showed immediate signs of concern for his employer. “My first question, where have you been, Mr. Toombs?”

  The footman frowned. “Am I in trouble?”

  He nodded slowly. “How much will depend on what you say to me today. Most likely you will at least lose your position.”

  “But I had leave to go home,” the man protested. “I cannot marry without a position.”

  A marriage in the works was news to him. The household staff had not hinted the fellow had any romantic entanglements. “Neither Lady Berry nor her senior staff gave any such permission.”

  The fellow shook his head, and his arms dropped to his sides. “But her ladyship’s daughter gave me permission. Just ask her.”

  Gilbert leaned forward to stare at Mr. Toombs. On the surface, he seemed oblivious to the crime under investigation but many criminals excelled at lying. “That would be difficult, as Angela Berry is no longer alive to collaborate your tall tale.”

  The fellow’s eyes bulged. “What?”

  “Murdered.”

  The man stared, mouth agape. He closed it suddenly and looked about the room a little wildly. “I swear she was breathing when I left her! Is Sally all right?”

  “Sally?”

  “Miss Berry’s maid.” He swallowed hard. “We are going to marry. Miss Berry promised us both a place with her when she married Lord Carmichael.”

  “You knew about Carmichael’s proposal?”

  “Only that it was expected on the night of the ball,” Toombs promised. “Everyone in the household was waiting for it. The poor man.”

  Toombs’ shock and sympathy seemed genuine and completely convincing to Gilbert. “No one else was harmed, and Lord Carmichael had no chance to propose at all that night,” he murmured. “Convince me of your innocence, sir.”

  The fellow came and sat opposite Gilbert, hands between his knees. “I spoke to Miss Berry at four in the afternoon,” Toombs began, and then blurted out every moment of his following days in such detail as to be entirely convincing. “Sally, my intended, had finally agreed since we found out we could go with her mistress and stay together.

  “I went home to tell my father the good news, obtained his permission to marry, and returned to London after speaking with Sally’s parents on the way back. We had grown up two villages apart, never knowing each other until we entered Lady Berry’s service.”

  Gilbert exchanged a glance with Davis, who was nodding slowly. Innocent, but still…it would do to keep this one close. “Lady Berry will be leaving London soon to bury her daughter. She has dismissed all but a few of her London staff.”

  The man looked shocked.

  “You will undoubtedly be without a position, should you return to Berry House under a cloud of suspicion.”

  “I would never hurt Miss Berry. She was the kindest in the household. What about Miss Berry’s lady’s maid? Does she still have a position?”

  “Dismissed too.”

  The fellow burst to his feet. “I have to find her. Anything could happen to her if I’m not there to protect her.”

  “Sit down,” Davis warned. “Lucky for you, Lord Sorenson has a tender heart.”

  “What have you done with her?”

  “Employed her. Not as a lady’s maid of course, since I am not married, but she has a respectable position in the kitchens for now.” Gilbert stood, straightening his waistcoat. “I do not condone the rash dismissal of staff in times of grief. There could be a permanent position for you, as long as you’ve been honest today.”

  “I was. I am. Thank you, my lord.”

  He gestured to Davis to lead the fellow away. Toombs trotted after Davis eagerly, and then Davis returned alone.

  Gilbert studied the fellow. “Tell the staff to keep an ear open. Make sure his story holds up over the next few days. If it doesn’t, we will question him again; if it does, I will find him a better position elsewhere.”

  Chapter 4

  The Williamson ball would be the event of the season. Everyone who mattered was in attendance tonight. Anyone with a daughter worth marrying had come. So, too, had all the most eligible gentlemen. But there was one face missing from the crowd of ladies gathering together to look over the bachelors, and that absence nagged at Anna. “Have you seen Miss Berry tonight?”

  “No,” Portia answered, hardly hiding the fact her interest lie in the gentlemen across the room. For the whole of the evening, Portia had been ogling the nearest bachelors and had barely paid attention to a word Anna spoke to her.

  “I haven’t seen or spoken to her at all this week,” Anna confessed to Portia as she kept an eye on her father’s location. Father had grudgingly allowed her to take a turn about the room with Portia, provided she went nowhere else.

  Portia met her gaze with obvious surprise. “I thought she was only avoiding me.”

  Portia’s statement was not surprising. Portia and Angela Berry did not always see eye to eye. There had even been two weeks last year when they’d exchanged harsh words over their mutual interest in the same gentleman. However, as far as Anna knew, their squabbling days were behind them. Angela had singled out Lord Carmichael for attention, and promised the rest of the ton’s most eligible and titled bachelors were free to wed either Portia or Anna.

  “She’s never been at home when I call.”

  “That is so strange.” Portia rose on her toes and looked about them. “She’s no reason to snub either of us. And how terrible for her that Lord Carmichael is in attendance tonight, too. How disappointed will she be to have missed another opportunity to dance with him. That makes twice now this week. I still cannot believe they admitted him to Almack’s Assembly Rooms, can you?”

  “I expected the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole, to be honest,” Anna whispered in Portia’s ear.

  Portia choked on a laugh. “You are so bad.”

  Anna winced. She wasn’t bad, she just occasionally blurted out what she really thought to her closest friends without thinking of the consequences properly.

  “Of course London’s most eligible bachelor is here,” Lord Wade remarked from directly behind them. “This is where only the most delicious ladies will be found.”

  Anna blushed at the brash remark and turned. She did not believe Lord Wade meant her in that description, but Lord Wade often looked upon Miss Hayes as if she were worth devouring.

  Portia, however, glared at him. “It is not polite to invite yourself into a conversation.”

  “Merely passing by,” he murmured, bowing slightly before disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.

  Portia watched him go and then turned toward Anna. “I hate how that man creeps around.”

  Anna hid a smile. She thought Lord Wade’s spur-of-the-moment conversation was purely aimed at unsettling Portia Hayes, who could be prickly sometimes. His arrivals were always unexpected. “Are you engaged for the next dance?”

  “Indeed I am. Lord Carmichael has asked for the waltz tonight. I know Miss Berry has a prior claim on him but she’s not here, and I do like the way he dances.” She glanced down at Anna’s empty dance card and pulled a face. “I’m sorry to leave you.”

  “Do not worry about me. I will return to my father and enjoy the view.”

  Across the room, she spotted Carmichael and, at his side, his friend, Lord Sorenson. Carmichael would be coming this way soon to collect Portia. Where Lord Sorenson was headed was anyone’s guess. He’d seemed everywhere in the room tonight.

  She sighed softly, enamored of the earl’s looks still. Although he was dressed soberly, quite a contrast to Carmichael’s more flamboyant tailoring, she still believed she was better off forgetting all about him.

  The pair seemed to be claiming dances from two other young ladies now—Miss Goldwell, daughter of a shipping merchant,
and Miss Myra Lacy, daughter of a prosperous spice merchant. They were not her particular friends but kind enough to speak to Anna whenever they met. Both were amply dowered and attracted much attention from the unattached bachelors of London. They were also rather more forward than Anna thought they should be. Something the pair of gentlemen smiling down upon them must have found very appealing.

  “You should return to your parents before the set is called,” she whispered to Portia.

  “Yes, of course. Give my love to Miss Berry when you finally see her. Tell her I have all sorts of news to share,” Portia asked before gliding away toward her parents to await Carmichael.

  Resigned to watching others dance the next set from afar, Anna turned on her heel to return to her father.

  But came to a complete stop before taking one single step. “Lady Scott!”

  “Miss Beasley.”

  She smiled widely at Lord Carmichael’s godmother. “How lovely you look tonight, my lady.”

  “Pshaw,” the older woman replied with a wave of her hand. “I’m old, not foolish.”

  Anna smiled. “Never old.”

  “You should not be alone and unescorted,” Lady Scott admonished her in a stern voice. “Do you not care what people say about you?”

  Lady Scott worried about propriety all the time, sometimes to excess.

  “I was just returning to my father.” She gestured behind them. “He’s not three yards away. Would you like to join me there and speak to him?”

  The lady seemed to consider it a moment, but then shook her head, eyes fixed on the dance floor. “Perhaps another night.”

  “Very well,” Anna replied. She delayed a moment longer. Conversations around her father’s friends tended to be either about dull politics or, even worse, about their aching limbs. “Did you enjoy Almack’s on Wednesday?”

  “Of course.” She peered across the room. “Who was the gentleman introduced to you that night? The one standing beside my godson now?”

  “Oh. Do you mean Lord Sorenson?”

  “Sorenson? That is not the Earl of Sorenson.”

  “The elder Lord Sorenson passed away, I understand, and the son claimed the title recently. He’s only just come up to London, but before that he was a vicar in a country church.” Anna considered whether to relay her suspicions about Carmichael’s plans for the new earl but decided against it. Lady Scott would never believe her beloved godson could be a bad influence on anyone. “I believe he and Lord Carmichael have been acquainted since their schooldays.”

  Lady Scott’s eyes narrowed as she looked past Anna’s shoulder. “We are not acquainted.”

  “He seemed a very polite and amiable gentleman when we were introduced,” Anna declared, although having spoken only a few words with him hardly made her an expert. “My father seemed to like him well enough.”

  Lady Scott harrumphed. “You must return to him now.”

  “Yes, my lady,” she said dutifully. “Until the next time we meet.”

  “Be good,” Lady Scott warned.

  Anna nodded and made her way to her father’s side, resigned to her fate of a long and likely boring evening. Father made room for her and she was soon lost in the frustrating world of political maneuvering.

  The next dance ended and Anna tried not to envy the couples too much. When she heard a throat being cleared behind her, she sighed with pleasure.

  Grateful for any interruption, Anna turned immediately, hoping Lord Wade had returned to save her from another night of not dancing.

  However, it wasn’t Lord Wade smiling at her with sinfully wicked eyes.

  Anna almost couldn’t breathe. “Lord Sorenson?”

  He bowed, and the interest in his eyes flared. “Miss Beasley, I wondered if you might have room on your dance card for me.”

  A dance! Anna didn’t need to look at her blank card to know that she did. She clenched it tightly in her fist and refused to show it. “I would be honored.”

  He looked at her expectantly, one brow raised, and held out his hand so he could write down his name.

  She wasn’t about to spoil her chances by letting him see the blank card she held. “The, ah, next set is available.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you. That seems to suit us both then.” He glanced at her father. “If I have your permission, sir.”

  “Indeed. Enjoy yourselves.” Father gave her a warning look that said behave in no uncertain terms because he’d be watching like a hawk.

  Lord Sorenson held out his arm and Anna placed her hand upon his sleeve, noting the fine material under her gloved fingers. For a former vicar, he had excellent taste in fabrics.

  Her heart skipped a beat and a blush heated her cheeks as they moved toward the dance floor. The waltz required Lord Sorenson to hold her close in his arms. Spaces were slowly filling up and they found a place at the rear. She flicked a quick wave toward Portia, where she stood with Carmichael, and turned back to her partner.

  However, her partner was looking beyond her head at the other guests.

  They bowed to each other, and then Lord Sorenson moved close.

  Anna took his hand but was so overwhelmed by him that she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Her face heated and she concentrated on dancing and not tripping over her own feet.

  After a few turns about the floor, Anna glanced up at him, puzzled by his silence. Many men talked as if they never noticed her blushing.

  However, he wasn’t paying her any attention. He was looking over the top of her head and smiling into the crowd. She risked a peek beyond his wide shoulders and noted a great many ladies, married and not, had stopped their conversations and were openly watching them dance together.

  She risked another peek at him, noting his interest in the crowd hadn’t waned.

  That stung.

  Watching other women as he danced with her was very rude and humiliating. If dancing required nothing more than skilled footwork and a charming smile, no one would bother with the effort.

  She began to look forward to their dance ending.

  Lord Sorenson suddenly drew her closer against him. Closer than was strictly allowed for the waltz. Anna looked up in surprise to find him beaming at her as they made the final turns of the dance. As the music died, signaling the end of the set, Anna’s heart began to race. Her cheeks grew uncomfortably warm.

  Lord Sorenson’s eyes widened a touch more but he released her and stepped back to bow. Anna faced the musicians, face flaming, and clapped along with everyone else. What had that look meant?

  Lord Sorenson touched her elbow softly, reclaiming her attention, and when she looked at him, he held out his arm for her to take. “You dance delightfully.”

  “So do you, my lord.” Yet, Anna felt she had no choice but to compliment him in return. Her one moment of pleasure in the evening had become such a disappointing event. He hadn’t really danced with her. Merely twirled her about, reveling in the attention from others. She had to wonder why Lord Sorenson had really asked her to dance tonight when it was clear he was more interested in everyone else.

  Carmichael brushed past with Portia on his arm and winked at her. He was gone before she could react, and she was left with his distracted friend’s company once more. Had Carmichael suggested Lord Sorenson take pity on her and ask her to stand up with him?

  Since he’d done it before, Anna believed he would again.

  She reluctantly took Lord Sorenson’s offered arm and they strolled the entire length of the ballroom back to her father’s side in awkward silence. Once there, Anna quickly separated herself from the earl. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.”

  He reached for her hand, and she reluctantly raised it. His grip was gentle as he bowed over it. “Miss Beasley,” he murmured. “I very much look forward to seeing you again.”

  Why?

  She did not say that out loud though. He departed, skirting the room, and stopped at Carmichael’s side a moment. The pair exchanged a few words before each turned toward a differen
t corner of the ballroom. Carmichael claimed Miss Lydia Goldwell as his next partner, and Lord Sorenson collected Miss Myra Lacy for his.

  Myra Lacy was something of a chatterbox, and that seemed agreeable to Lord Sorenson. As the next set began, Sorenson was attentive to her as they danced, rarely glancing away from his new partner once.

  Anna began to feel unwell, especially so when she discovered Carmichael watching her intently, a slight smirk on his face. Anna wished she were young enough to still poke her tongue out at him or perhaps throw something heavy in his direction. Dear God, that man would never change. He would forever plague her.

  Carmichael winked at her again, and she turned her face away from him and the happy couple chattering on the dance floor. She was beyond mortified to have her nemesis suspect her of disappointment. He would say she deserved it for blushing so often. She did not need him to point out her flaws. She knew them all very well.

  Face flushed with the evidence of her mortification, Anna barely heard another word of her father’s conversation, or dared to look at those lining up for the next two dances that followed. When supper was announced she finally looked around. Carmichael and Sorenson must have already gone into supper. Father kept talking, unfortunately.

  After five minutes, she tapped his arm. “Would you excuse me?”

  Her father glanced around, frowning. “Supper?”

  “Not exactly,” she murmured.

  “You will return straight away, with no side excursions,” he demanded.

  Anna nodded, allowing him to believe she was headed for the retiring room. “Thank you, Father,” she murmured.

  She felt only a little guilty for deceiving him. He was so strict sometimes it was stifling. She wasn’t answering nature’s call, as he’d assumed, but moved toward the quiet of Lord Williamson’s library instead.

  Lord Williamson’s library was customarily off limits during any ball, but she knew he wouldn’t mind her visit if she made it seem she was only interested in inspecting the large globe of the world that resided before his desk, something he was proud of showing off to everyone.

  Anna slipped inside the dark room, noting there was only a low fire burning in the hearth. She shut the door behind her and leaned her whole weight against it as darkness swallowed her up. “Damn, damn, damn.”