‘They – they will not g-grant him bail,’ stammered Lucasta, blinking back the tears.
The duchess nodded.
‘Aye, so I heard. However, I have set my own people to work on it and I expect them to deliver Adam here to me within the hour. No point in having family connections if one doesn’t make use of ’em! So, tell me what has gone on here. No one knows of your part in this tangle?’
‘No, ma’am, only my mother and sister, and they are very anxious that the story should not get out. Ad— I mean, Lord Kennington has forbidden me to tell anyone else; he says it will not help his case.’
‘Quite right, too. It would only complicate matters. Best let the lawyers take care of it.’
‘But you do not know the worst of it, ma’am. Potts went to see the dead man’s valet last night, thinking to persuade him to talk again to the magistrates, to correct their assumption that Lord Kennington was the murderer, but he learned that it was the valet himself who has given my lord’s description to the magistrate.’
‘The devil he has!’
Miserably, Lucasta repeated everything Jacob Potts had told her while the duchess listened in frowning silence.
‘Well it seems to me that this – this Miesel has his own reasons for putting the blame upon my godson.’
Lucasta nibbled on her finger, a tiny crease in her brow. ‘It was Miesel who reported that a necklace had been stolen.’ She looked up, wide-eyed, at the duchess. ‘What if he stole the necklace for himself?’
‘Then that would give him a very good reason for shuffling the blame onto someone else.’ She bent her shrewd gaze upon Lucasta. ‘You seem to know a great deal about this matter.’
‘Potts came to find me yesterday: he was anxious for his master, and had no one else to call upon.’
‘But that is not all, is it? I can see by your face that there is more.’ With the duchess’s piercing eyes fixed upon her, Lucasta felt the blood warming her cheeks. ‘Well, child?’
‘And’ – the words were barely more than a whisper – ‘and I went to Newgate, to see Lord Kennington.’ She drew a breath. ‘I was not recognized – I was heavily veiled, and no one knows of my visit, except Adam and now yourself.’ She peeped up at her hostess and was relieved to see that the duchess was smiling.
‘What a resourceful young lady you are.’
‘They are saying such things of him in Town and I could not let him think he was friendless.’
The duchess patted her hands.
‘You have a kind heart, Lucasta. Now we shall wait for Adam to arrive before we discuss what is to be done.’
It was almost an hour later when they heard sounds of an arrival. Lucasta jumped to her feet as the door opened and Lord Kennington walked in. When he saw Lucasta he paused, his brows rising in surprise. He made a small bow in her direction and strode across the room to the duchess.
‘Godmama.’ He kissed both her hands. ‘I shall be eternally grateful to you for this. How did you secure my release?’
The duchess chuckled.
‘Friends, my dear boy, friends in the highest places. I invited Miss Symonds to join us to decide how we are going to get you out of this scrape.’
‘I am delighted to see you again, Miss Symonds.’ The smile he directed towards her made Lucasta’s heart flip over. ‘And your family, they know that you are here?’
‘They do, my lord.’
He continued to look at her: she saw the question in his eyes and it pained her that she could not answer it. At length he spoke again.
‘Your sister is well, I hope?’
‘Y-yes, sir. She is. She, um, she eagerly awaits news of your acquittal.’
‘She does not wish to be associated with an accused murderer.’
The bitterness in his voice flayed her spirits. She could think of nothing to say. The duchess tapped his arm with her fan.
‘Be sensible, Adam! An overt display of loyalty could ruin the chit.’
Lord Kennington’s lip curled.
‘Thank you for pointing that out, Your Grace.’
‘Ungrateful dog! If you continue to look like that I shall wash my hands of you. Sit down, sir and let us decide what we are going to do.’
The viscount gave a short laugh.
‘My apologies, Godmama, for my boorish manners.’ He held out his hand to Lucasta. ‘And to you, Miss Symonds. Will you not be seated?’
Having guided Lucasta to the sofa he sat down beside her and she could not quite crush the satisfaction she felt at his proximity.
‘The first thing is to find Potts,’ he said. ‘My valet tells me he has gone into hiding to avoid being taken up.’
‘Perhaps we should ask Miss Symonds where he may be found,’ drawled the duchess.
Lord Kennington turned to look at her.
‘You have seen Jacob?’
‘He found me,’ she murmured.
‘Well, that is good news!’ he exclaimed, grinning.
However, by the time she had related all her dealings with Jacob Potts and describing his meeting with Miesel, none of them was smiling.
‘It confirms my suspicions that Miesel is planning some game of his own. But he is clever: to identify me would condemn him, if I should prove my innocence. Much cleverer to give only a description: who is to say that it was not some chance attack by footpads? Witness our own encounter on the common. The key, I think, is the emerald necklace. If we find that, we shall find the murderer.’
‘But how are we going to do that?’ asked Lucasta.
The viscount’s face darkened.
‘I shall see Miesel and beat the truth out of him!’
‘That you will not,’ retorted the duchess. ‘You must not do anything to make your own situation worse than it is; heaven knows you have already given everyone enough cause to suspect you.’
‘I fear that was my fault, ma’am.’ Lucasta was compelled to speak up. ‘If I had not been with Lord Kennington he would not have been so anxious to quit the Pigeons at the earliest moment.’
‘Oh yes I would!’
As Lucasta eyes flew to his face he grinned at her.
‘My bed was damnably uncomfortable, you know.’
The duchess waved an impatient hand.
‘However that may be, you are going to remain here with me until we can bring this matter to a close.’
‘Oh? And what does the duke say to that, having a felon in his house?’
‘My son is in Yorkshire, so he can say nothing about it,’ she returned with a twinkle. ‘Although, I have left Giggs at Coombe Chase, and I have no doubt he has already written to Filwood to apprise him of this latest indiscretion. Now, I have summoned Gretton, for I knew you could not be persuaded to stay here without your valet: he is even now upstairs preparing your rooms for you.’
‘And Potts?’
‘I do not think we can guarantee his freedom, so for the moment perhaps it is best if he remains at large.’
The viscount sighed.
‘I think you are right, ma’am. Jacob would detest Newgate.’ He rose. ‘If you will excuse me, I shall go and change. I am anxious to remove the stench of the prison cell from my person.’
Lucasta observed him from beneath her lashes: she thought he looked as immaculate as ever, only the grim set of his mouth and a slight shadowing under his eyes gave any hint of his ordeal. She stood up.
‘I think I should go now.’ She held out her hand to him. ‘I am relieved that you are no longer in prison, my lord.’
He took her fingers and kissed them lightly.
‘You must not worry, Lucasta. We shall soon resolve this matter.’
‘I am sure we shall.’ She gave him a faint smile then turned to make her curtsey to the duchess. ‘I beg of you, ma’am, please keep me informed, and tell me if there is anything I can do – I want to help.’
‘Bless you, child, I know that. If your mama will permit, I shall take you driving with me tomorrow, at which time I shall be able to tell you all that h
as happened. In fact – will you be at Lymington House this evening? Kennington shall introduce me to your mama and I will ask her myself if I can steal you away.’
‘Godmama, you cannot expect me to go out with you tonight. I have no wish to be paraded before the ton—’
‘Your wishes do not enter into this, Adam. You are innocent and we must make the world believe it!’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When she was informed that the Duchess of Filwood was coming to the assembly with the express intention of meeting her, Lady Symonds found herself in a dilemma. On the one hand she wanted to distance herself from the unsavoury events surrounding Lord Kennington: on the other, the duchess was influential in high circles and could prove very useful in securing a brilliant alliance for Camilla, something that might be necessary if the viscount should be found guilty. Therefore, she girded herself in her finest straw-coloured lustring and sallied forth to do her duty.
Very few of the gowns ordered for Lucasta had arrived and she had to decide between the altered tawny silk gown of her mother’s, or a green sacque-back robe over embroidered cream petticoats. She chose the green. It was not her favourite, but her mama had assured her when she purchased it that the colour accentuated her flawless skin and she was honest enough to admit that she wanted to look her best for Lord Kennington. However, as she joined her mother and sister in the entrance hall of Lymington House she glanced at herself critically in one of the large, gilt-framed mirrors and sighed. What did it matter what she wore when Camilla was looking radiant in celestial blue satin and gauze?
The ballroom was already crowded when Lady Symonds and her daughters arrived but they were by no means the last and, as the rooms filled, so the laughter and chattering grew ever louder, which made the sudden lull all the more dramatic when the Duchess of Filwood arrived with Lord Kennington. Lucasta wanted to laugh aloud at the shocked faces around her. The duchess sailed in on the viscount’s arm, her hair dressed high in an elaborate coiffure and ornamented with nodding ostrich plumes. At her side was the viscount, magnificent in black velvet trimmed with gold and enlivened at the throat and wrists by a froth of snow-white lace. She had to admire him: in the momentary silence he raised his quizzing glass and looked around with just a touch of hauteur on his lean, handsome features. Gradually the noise began again, conversations were taken up, groups moved off to the ballroom and several people hurried forward to greet the duchess. All was as it should be.
It was not long before Lord Kennington escorted the duchess across to Lady Symonds. He performed the introductions smoothly. The duchess smiled, exchanged a few words with Lady Symonds then beckoned Camilla to come forward.
‘Well, Kennington, you did not lie when you told me Miss Camilla was a beauty. No need to colour up, my dear: you will find I always speak my mind. How are you enjoying your first season?’
‘Very much, if it please Your Grace.’ Camilla curtseyed and modestly lowered her eyes.
‘Hmm. I am sure you never lack for partners.’
‘Indeed, Your Grace, everyone has been most kind,’ put in Lady Symonds. ‘When we first arrived in Town we had but a few acquaintances but that is all changed now. There are so many invitations we are rarely at home, and the season proper has not yet begun.’
The duchess agreed, complimented Lady Symonds upon her handsome daughters and prepared to move away, promising to call for Miss Symonds in her carriage at the fashionable hour the following day. Lucasta was still reeling in admiration at the duchess’s tactics when she heard the viscount asking Camilla to stand up with him. Camilla blushed and plied her fan.
‘I am very sorry – I did not expect – that is, I am engaged for every – I mean, I do have one country dance later, if you should be free?’
Lucasta’s jaw clenched in anger. She saw the cold, closed look descend upon the viscount’s face as he bowed and turned away. She curled her hands around the sticks of her closed fan, her nails digging into the palms: Camilla’s behaviour had roused her anger, but added to that was disappointment that Adam had not asked her to dance with him. It was a very lowering to discover that she would gladly have accepted second best.
Lord Kennington did not approach them again until he came to claim his country dance, but before he led Camilla away he turned to Lucasta.
‘Miss Symonds, my godmother begs for the pleasure of your company at supper.’
‘I would be delighted, my lord,’ she replied quickly, without reference to her mother, standing cold and silent beside her.
He bowed.
‘Then I hope you will permit me to escort you to her, when this dance is ended.’
‘You are determined to flout me,’ hissed Lady Symonds, as Lord Kennington moved off.
‘I am merely trying to make up for your cold manner, ma’am,’ flashed Lucasta. ‘It would not be so bad if you had not courted his favour so assiduously at Oaklands.’
She saw the angry flush mounting her mother’s cheeks. Lady Symonds hunched her shoulder and turned away, leaving Lucasta alone to watch the dancing. She found little to amuse her: Camilla was clearly uncomfortable in the viscount’s company, avoiding his glance and barely speaking a word when the dance brought them together. Such was her dismay that Lucasta felt obliged to comment as Lord Kennington led her off to the supper room.
‘You must forgive my sister, sir. When we arrived tonight she was besieged by gentlemen, begging her to dance with them.’
‘You need not apologize: I understand perfectly.’
Lucasta winced at his cold tone.
‘She is very young, my lord. I fear the adulation she has received since coming to Town has gone to her head.’ When he did not reply she added quietly, ‘She truly was engaged for every dance, you know.’
He relaxed slightly and gave her a wry smile.
‘And you have not been far behind her: you, too, have been on the dance floor most of the evening.’
‘Yes, it is very fortunate that the gentlemen who fail to secure my sister feel obliged to take me instead.’
‘You are too hard on yourself, Miss Symonds, some may be dazzled initially by your sister’s beauty, but it should not take a discerning man very long to realize your worth.’
She gave a little gasp.
‘Oh, pray do not think I was looking for a compliment, my lord.’
He pressed her fingers, lying snug upon his velvet sleeve.
‘I would never think that of you, Lucasta.’
She was inordinately pleased at his words and as they reached the duchess’s table her warm greeting added even more to her pleasure although her spirits faltered a little when she saw Camilla enter the room upon the arm of a fashionable young gentleman. She quickly looked away and began to chatter, hoping that her companions would not notice Camilla’s arrival but the viscount had already seen her.
‘Your sister does not lack for admirers, Miss Symonds. She is much more comfortable with that young buck than with such a disreputable person as myself.’
‘Pray do not be angry with her, sir.’
‘No indeed, Adam,’ said the duchess. ‘Miss Camilla is not yet sure of her place in society. Allow her a little time to find her feet, my boy.’
‘She knows you are innocent of the charges against you,’ said Lucasta in a low voice. He looked across the table at her, a faint cynical twist to his smile that wrenched at her heart and made her add in a fierce undervoice, ‘We shall find the real killers, Adam. We shall find them, then everyone will know that you are innocent!’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lucasta was accompanying Lord Kennington and the duchess out of the supper room when an elderly gentleman entered. Upon seeing them he stopped, effectively blocking the doorway.
‘Oh lord,’ muttered the viscount. ‘General Bradfield, Sir Talbot’s uncle.’
‘Hush now,’ replied the duchess quietly. She continued towards the door. ‘Good evening Nicholas.’
The old man did not bow, but glared at them from beneath sha
ggy brows. Despite his age his bearing was very upright and he cut an impressive figure as he stood before them.
‘So, Tabitha, it has come this, that your godson has been fit to despatch my nephew.’
‘Pray do not talk such nonsense, Nicholas. We both know Kennington is no murderer.’
‘Well, we shall see, we shall see.’
The duchess tapped her cane on the floor.
‘You are in the way, Nicholas. Pray stand aside, sir!’
The general looked around and with a smothered oath he moved away from the door, shaking his stick at the interested crowd, that had gathered behind him. When the crowd had dispersed, he fixed his fierce gaze upon the viscount.
‘Where, sir, are the Bradfield emeralds?’
‘I really have no idea. My rooms and my … person have been searched, so you must be aware that I do not have them.’
Lucasta’s hand was on Adam’s arm, and instinctively her grip tightened as she heard the anger in his voice.
‘Well, we shall know soon enough,’ barked the general. ‘I have set my own men on to it, and I’ve offered a reward of a hundred guineas for information – what do you think of that?’
‘I hope it will help us to find the real culprits,’ replied the duchess.
‘Oh you may be sure it will. I’ve put the word about pretty widely – all the jewellers in London will be on their guard and I have contacts in the rookeries, too: they will not be able to sell a single gem without word getting back to me.’
‘One would think, General,’ mused the duchess, ‘that you are more concerned with recovering the emeralds than finding your nephew’s killer.’
‘What’s that?’ Beneath its whiskers the old man’s face grew red. ‘Well, of course I want to find Talbot’s murderer! Not that I was surprised when I heard the news. Talbot was always – his manner of living – well, never mind that!’ He glared at the viscount again. ‘If you say you didn’t do it, Kennington, then I want to believe you, but it all comes down to the evidence, my boy, the evidence.’
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