Testing Miss Toogood

by Stella Cameron

  Light, rapid footsteps on marble wiped away her smile. A slight female in a dark coat and bonnet went to Brother Juste with no sign of fear. “Thank you,” she whispered hurriedly, even before she stood beside him. “I’ve got ever such a nice place. Mrs. Lymer is teaching me things I never knew about being a lady’s maid and I’m helping her with her duties. She’s not so young as she used to be.”

  The monk chuckled and got up. He waved the girl into his chair and got another for himself. “A good woman,” he said, his voice raspy and a little muffled. “We must not keep you here long. Were you frightened on the way?”

  “No.” She flapped a hand. “I’m used to looking after myself.”

  “You weren’t able to look after yourself when you were spirited away, were you?”

  “No, no, I wasn’t. But I don’t think that one would touch me again because he’d know me the next time and I’m not worth anything to him.”

  Brother Juste searched the folds of his habit, then reached toward Jane. “Hold out your hand. These were a gift from a French visitor—chocolate drops rolled in honey and nuts—and there are far more than are good for one person.”

  Jane actually squealed. She coughed and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever had anything like this before.” And she reached beneath her coat to put her treasure in a pocket hung around her waist. “Why did you give them to me?”

  “Because I like you,” he said, leaning closer. “I want to help you find whatever it is that would make you happy in this world, but that may take time. For now I can give you a few sweets and take pleasure in your happiness.”

  Jane giggled.

  “Have you thought of anything new, anything you didn’t recall the other evening? Have one of these now.” He dropped what Fleur assumed was one of the sweets into Jane’s palm and unwrapped paper from another before fumbling beneath his hood and putting one in his own mouth. “One for you and one for me. To sharpen our wits.”

  Jane giggled again. “I don’t know about that. You’ve got something over your face, haven’t you? I don’t mean the hood.”

  Brother Juste mumbled something, presumably to indicate that he couldn’t talk with his mouth full. Then he said, “A precaution, Jane. It would be bad for others if I was identified by a rogue who might use the information against us. I don’t mean you would use it, of course, but one never knows when a moment requiring caution will arise.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that night,” Jane said. She had a way of sitting quite still. “He took me by carriage.”

  “But he didn’t drive himself?”

  “Oh, no. A lad did. And the man was inside with me. He held me down so I couldn’t see out of the windows. But I heard a good deal and it was—The place we went was a noisy area. A lot of shouting, and carriages and horses passing. Forgive me for mentioning it, but I think there was intoxication—at least from the way a lot of gentlemen were speaking.”

  Jane unwrapped her sweet and popped it into her mouth. “Ooh, this is ever so good. Best I ever had.” She hunched her shoulders. “Not that I’ve had much chocolate. When my dad could work he’d bring home some bits and pieces left over from big doings at the hall.” Jane fell silent and Fleur liked the monk for allowing the girl time to reminisce without asking her any questions.

  “So this thing happened late in the evening?” he said eventually.

  “Very. Miss Victoria had me run an errand.”

  The monk crossed his arms. “Late at night and on your own?”

  “All I had to do was take a message to someone who was waiting for her. She’d been going to meet him see, but she changed her mind. I only ran across to the edge of the Park.”

  “That would be Hyde Park. The Crewe-Burnses live on Park Lane.”

  Fleur could tell that Brother Juste didn’t think much of a girl being sent out on such a mission.

  “Who was Miss Crewe-Burns to meet?” the monk asked.

  “I don’t know, but I do know she wasn’t keen to go. Well, at first she was but she changed her mind.”

  “Did you deliver your message?” he said.

  “No. The young man wasn’t there but that lad who drove the carriage was. He was a poor thing dressed in rags and I could tell he was afraid. But the other one was nearby. Hiding. Ready to grab me.”

  “And you don’t think it was Victoria’s young man who abducted you?” the monk asked.

  “Oh, no. This one was older, I think. The painted face made it hard to be sure, but I think he could be as much as forty.”

  “That old?” Father Juste said and Fleur heard his amusement. “What happened next?”

  “I know we went straight down Park Lane,” Jane said. “At first I was thinking we went into the Park for a bit, but now I don’t. We went left. I know because of the way I fell over his nasty legs in those white satin breeches.”

  So, Jane Weller, on an errand for her mistress, had been abducted. How horrible.

  “I think it was at Piccadilly we might have turned left and then we went straight on for a bit. But after that it was all turns, this way and that,” Jane said.

  “You’ve done very well.”

  “Oh!” Jane lifted her hands and stared at them, she held them to her face. “Chocolate. I almost forgot because there was so much muddle. I smelled chocolate that night and it was strong.”

  “He took you into a shop that late?”

  “Oh, no, I mean I smelled it when we were in the carriage—not too long before we got where we were going.” She clasped her hands together. “He blindfolded me when we got there so I never saw the outside of the place. I don’t think I want to think anymore tonight.”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve thought and said a great deal and you have helped me. I’ll see you to the Dower House. Do you send money home, Jane?” He asked the question so nonchalantly that Fleur almost missed it.

  “What makes you suggest that?” Jane sounded sharp.

  “When we first met you said you must find a place. Now you mention that your father used to work. If he’s no longer employed, times may be hard at home. You have brothers and sisters?”

  “Three brothers, all younger. My dad broke his back and now he can’t stand. My mum does everything.”

  Brother Juste patted Jane’s arm. “I’m glad you have a place and can help your family again. Now, we should go.”

  “I worry I’m a nuisance, having to be hidden and all,” Jane said.

  “You are not a nuisance. What happened to you was wrong and I intend to get to the bottom of it before more young women fall prey to this scoundrel’s tricks. There have already been others, you know.”

  “No,” Jane whispered. “Oh, those poor things. I was lucky to get let go the way I was. There wasn’t anyone to pay money for me so he couldn’t be bothered. But what if he takes a girl from a rich family and they still won’t pay the ransom? He said he would kill someone like that.”

  Brother Juste said, “Don’t fret. Make a note of anything else you think of, that’s all. I’m going to study an area I think may be the one you describe, or close to it. I shall arrange to speak with you again quite soon. Meanwhile, don’t worry.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try not to.”

  They got up and Jane walked ahead. Brother Juste said, “Jane,” and she turned back. “I am concerned about one thing and I want you to bear it in mind. Keep your eyes open at all times. I believe our man in satin may be someone known in Polite Circles—possibly quite well.”

  10

  He had to be wrong. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to have wasted his time scrambling out of the habit to reveal the evening clothes he had worn underneath. And he hoped it had been a waste of time to reorder his hair, and dashed well put a cloak around his shoulders when he would rather be naked and cool off, dammit.

  But he was blessed and cursed with an overdeveloped awareness of concealed presences. He’d felt it in the chapel, but with Jane there he couldn’t go looking for an intruder.

/>   Dominic grabbed hat and gloves and left his rooms at a rapid clip. Even though he’d seen Jane Weller home, anyone following and staying far enough back not to be seen would be some minutes behind him if they were heading for this house and didn’t have the advantage of entering it the way he did.

  He was doing exactly as he’d planned. If he did meet someone returning to the house, his evening clothes provided the perfect excuse for him to be heading toward the front door and apparently going out, not that it really mattered. He had made a leap in suspecting her, but if Fleur had heard more than she let on of the conversation he had with Nathan that afternoon, and had been foolish enough to hide in the chapel and listen to what was said this evening, then he had a right to confront her however he pleased.

  If he was proven wrong, so much the better. But he’d felt her hiding behind the curtain outside his room and been right. The sensation in the chapel had been exactly the same.

  A strong smell of chocolate. Jane’s announcement had rung in his head since he’d left her. Getting on with removing this wretched kidnapper from Society was the important thing, not Fleur Toogood’s search for a husband.

  He ran downstairs to the second floor, dashed along corridors to the balcony above the great hall, and hovered there. Since he really had nowhere to go there was no reason to continue on—unless he heard someone coming his way. Anyway, this was all so much twaddle, this so-called instinct. Fleur wouldn’t go out in the dark.

  Someone was walking through the hall.

  Dominic timed the interval before he started down. He descended two stairs as Fleur Toogood, in a voluminous hooded cape, took her first step up and grasped a bannister.

  “My goodness, young lady,” he said in his best shocked voice. “Where can you have been at such an hour?”

  Her head jerked up with enough force to knock her hood off. Her deep-red hair hung in curls around her shoulders and she had dirt on her face.

  He marveled at the speed with which defiance replaced shock. “I could ask you the same thing, my lord, but I’m too polite,” she said.

  “I’m going out, not coming in, and what I do is absolutely none of your affair. Your behavior bewilders me. Have you been outside?” He walked slowly downward, thrusting his head forward as if to examine her more closely. “You don’t look yourself. What has happened?”

  “I’m accustomed to a good deal of walking, my lord. Heatherly is a beautiful house but it also has beautiful grounds and I felt like—” She coughed and doubled over as if in some spasm. When she was more or less herself again she said, “I was probably unwise to walk outside when it’s damp. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to my room and get warm.”

  Dominic reached her, took one of her hands and clamped it firmly under his elbow. He set off upward again, turned right instead of left on the second floor and started toward the center of the house and the way up to his suite.

  “My room is behind us,” Miss Toogood told him.

  “And mine is on the third floor. But you know that. You will sit by my fire and have hot chocolate. I’m quite the expert with chocolate.”

  Her expression didn’t become knowing at the mention of chocolate, but she did resist him. Her spirit was remarkable. “The last time I was in your rooms, my lord,” she said, all but inaudibly, “there was an event. An insignificant event, it’s true, but not to be repeated. I think we both agree on that.”

  He cocked his head to look down at her and walked faster. “Insignificant? What can you be referring to? Come. Allow me to look after you. Mother would never forgive me if I allowed you to become sick so close to your first big engagement. She’s counting on you being a huge success and you will be.”

  She made an outrageously funny face and said, “You think so?”

  Dominic laughed and set a foot determinedly on the third-floor staircase. He liked Fleur Toogood, dammit. She had courage and brains—an irresistible combination in a woman, particularly a beautiful woman who could laugh at herself. Unfortunately she also had a giant dose of curiosity and he now knew she’d heard a great deal more than she’d confessed to earlier in the day.

  The charge he had reluctantly accepted had become a challenge and a liability. And how, he wondered, should he deal with that situation? He believed he could make sure there were no more escapades like this evening’s, but a few words about what she already knew, spoken in the wrong place, might well spell disaster.

  At least he could be sure she had no idea that he and Brother Juste were one and the same.

  When she entered his rooms without a fuss he breathed more easily. “Come along,” he said. “The green velvet chair by the fireplace is comfortable. I’ll stir the fire and start the chocolate. First, let me take your cloak.”

  “No!” She held the cloak tightly about her. “No, thank you. I feel the cold badly and take so long to get warm. I’d prefer to keep it on.”

  You’d prefer to keep it on because you’re hiding something underneath it. “Just settle in that chair.” He rubbed his hands and blew on them. “I do believe I’ll enjoy some of that hot chocolate myself.” He removed his own cloak and set it across the arm of a couch with his hat and gloves on top.

  Fleur took the chair he’d offered and what a picture she made with her curly hair brilliant in the firelight and her young, smooth face still glowing from the fresh air. Too bad the situation wasn’t different.

  He stirred the fire and added coals.

  “You’re a capable man,” she said suddenly.

  Dominic, on one knee before the fireplace, looked at her over his shoulder. “I can well imagine that you’re just as capable.” Her feet caught his attention but he was careful not to stare. She wore black leather boots that laced. They were solid with thick soles and not at all what he was accustomed to seeing on young women of his acquaintance.

  He put the kettle on the hob. Merryfield knew his master’s preferences and the tall chocolate pot waited, already half-filled with cold milk. “The water shouldn’t take too long to boil,” he said.

  “And while we wait—” Fleur’s mouth had a determined set “—you have a good deal to say to me about some wrongdoing of mine, correct? Or something you think I’ve done wrong.”

  “You are a great deal too blunt, too quick-witted and too surprising. I rather like the surprising part, and quick wits are a good thing. Even being blunt can be refreshing, but you might give a man a chance to speak before you tell him what he’s going to say.” Working so close to the fire overheated him and he took off his coat. If his shirtsleeves and neckcloth had been excessively crumpled by the habit, there was nothing he could do about it. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

  “So, my lord?” she said.

  Still kneeling, Dominic sat on his heels and spread his hands on his thighs. “Your face is growing red, Miss Toogood. You’re hot. I know you have something under the cloak you’d rather I not see, but does it really matter now?”

  “Yes, it does. I should be embarrassed.”

  “Let me guess, you’re naked.”

  “My lord!”

  “People do go without clothes, y’know. I’ve always been rather fond of the freedom myself.” He looked her over slowly and deliberately, not that he could make out a thing while she remained bundled up. “There are times when the body—particularly if it’s beautiful, sensual to look at, or, in the case of a man, strong and well made—well then, there are times when to cover the body is a tragedy. A tragedy and a waste.”

  She pushed her soft lips forward and he could almost hear her mulling over what must be a completely new type of approach to her, especially by a man. Her blue eyes turned luminous by firelight, but they showed more interest than dismay.

  “Don’t you have anything to say to that, Fleur? May I call you Fleur since we are to spend a goodly time together?”

  “Please do call me Fleur. What could I have to say? Statements don’t need answers, but I’m glad you take pleasure in the human body. I admit to a goo
d deal of curiosity about it myself.”

  The kettle steamed on the hob and he thanked providence for the diversion. She admitted to curiosity, did she? After pouring in exactly the same amount of boiling water as there was milk, Dominic added the chocolate shavings. When the brew was frothy, he filled two cups and gave one to Fleur.

  She set it down immediately.

  Dominic sat in a chair facing hers and drank. “If I say so myself, I make the best chocolate in the land.”

  This time he thought he saw the faintest flicker in her eyes. She had heard every word in the chapel and he had yet to decide how to stop her from talking to others about it.

  “I should go to my room now,” she said abruptly, moving to the edge of the chair. “It’s wrong for me to be here at all.”

  That was true enough but he couldn’t let her go yet. “I believe you want to leave because you’re being roasted alive, but you’re too self-conscious to remove your outdoor clothes.”

  She hopped to her feet, glaring at him, and unhooked the neck of the heavy wool cloak. Then she shrugged out of it, saying at the same time, “I shall not appreciate any laughter from you, my lord. I believe in doing what’s expedient.” She resembled a person who was in the habit of wearing all the clothing she owned to safeguard it from thieves. A brown dress gaped apart between the bodice buttons and puffs of white lawn poked through. The skirt of the dress fell in lumpy folds and voluminous amounts of pastel lace bulged beneath the hem.

  Fleur narrowed her eyes at him and sat down again. She drank from her cup and said, “You’re right. You make the best chocolate in the land.”

  He burst out laughing. Even doing his best to restrain the guffaws he couldn’t hold them in. Finally he sputtered to virtual control and said, “You’ve got your nightclothes on under that dress.” Very much as he’d worn evening clothes beneath the habit, only the habit allowed plenty of room.

  “Observant of you. I wanted to be able to change and get into bed as quickly as possible when I returned.” Without warning, a button popped from her bodice and another followed when it couldn’t take the force. “These are some of the new nightclothes the Dowager was sweet enough to give me but there is so much material. They are very pretty on their own, but the dress isn’t…Fie, I’m prattling about the obvious.”