by Amelia Grey
Oh, but I do.
She saw this as her opportunity to find out more about the dashing rogue who was so daring as to go so quickly from merely caressing her hand and blowing kisses to sneaking into the garden, pulling her down, on the grass beside him and kissing her on the lips.
“Oh, no bad things, but I would like to know a little more about him. I keep hearing about these earls who are called the Terrible Threesome. What exactly has Lord Dunraven done that makes him such a scoundrel?”
“I thought you’d never give me permission to tell. Now that I’m older, most of the friends I have are married and are not into hearing the gossip about the bachelors.” Lady Lynette smiled waggishly and moved closer to the edge of her seat but held her tongue as Glenda came in with the tea.
Millicent had to smile at how young Lady Lynette suddenly looked. She probably hadn’t reached thirty yet and right now she looked more like seventeen. No doubt she would relish telling every word of gossip she knew. Her eyes fairly sparkled with enjoyment and her strong facial features turned playful.
As soon as Glenda left the room Lady Lynette said, “Everyone in Town thought Lord Dunraven would marry as soon as he finished his education because he had already inherited the title. All the young ladies and hopeful widows set their caps for him that first year he was eligible. But no, word got out quickly that he would see all three of his sisters wed before he took a wife. Naturally he was then considered unattainable.”
“And that made him all the more sought after?” Millicent asked, while she poured tea for.
“Indeed. It’s been that way for at least ten years—for all the Terrible Threesome.”
Millicent said, “Cream or sugar?”
“Plenty of both. Lord Dunraven dances, charms, and calls on many of the ladies each Season. And from what I’ve overheard, he has certainly stolen more than his share of kisses. He’s never offered for the hand of any lady. I don’t believe he’s ever called on a lady more than three times in a Season.”
“Why is that?”
“One never knows for sure because Lord Dunraven hasn’t spoken about it to anyone as far as I know, but I would assume it’s because he doesn’t want any fathers forcing his hand about his intentions.”
“Yes, I suppose he’d be serious if he called on the same lady more than three times.”
“Everyone assumes he prefers to spend his time with his friends racing fast horses during the day, gaming in the evenings, and gambling into early morning hours. Mama says that some gentlemen never settle down and take wives.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Millicent answered as she handed Lynette a blue cup with a pink flower painted on it.
Lady Lynette accepted with her gloved hand as she leaned forward and whispered, “You won’t tell anyone what I’ve told you?”
“No,” Millicent assured her.
“Good. I don’t usually talk so much, but then I don’t usually have anyone other than Mama who wants to listen to me.”
“You can feel free to call on me when you want to talk. I’m enjoying hearing about Lord Dunraven—and other members of the ton,” she added quickly.
“One time I overheard a young gentleman say that Lord Dunraven was keeping four mistresses in Town. All at the same time.”
Millicent’s eyes widened. “My goodness. That many?”
“Astonishing, isn’t it?”
“I would think so. That does sound like four too many.”
“And sometimes he would see all four of them in one evening, and I’ve heard more than one at a time,” Lady Lynette added in a softer whisper.
Shocked, Millicent lowered her cup back to the saucer. Did she dare believe that of Lord Dunraven or was it mere gossip? Four women in one evening and more than one at one time? If only part of what Lady Lynette said was true then his reputation was well deserved. But… he had indicated that everything that was said about him wasn’t true.
“I’m sure I don’t know what to say to that except, perhaps I’ve heard enough about Lord Dunraven and his mistresses.”
Lady Lynette paid no mind to Millicent’s subtle suggestion they move on to another topic of conversation and added, “He’s noted for stealing kisses at any opportunity and then not offering for the lady’s hand.”
Lady Lynette said the words as if it were the most dreadful thing that could happen to a young lady. Millicent had been kissed a couple of times on the cheek, and she had wondered what was the harm in a kiss or two, but not anymore. Those kisses had been most uninspiring. But Lord Dunraven’s kisses this afternoon had left her head spinning and her lungs breathless.
“On the few occasions he calls on a lady, he always brings the same gift without fail,” Lady Lynette continued.
It was clear she was not ready to change the subject, so Millicent said, “Really? What would that be?”
“Apricot tarts. His chef is said to make the most delicious tarts in all of London.” She bent closer to Millicent. “If he brings you any, you will save one for me, won’t you? I’ve always wanted to taste them.”
Millicent faltered for a moment, but quickly said, “Of course, but truly, Lynette, I gave Lord Dunraven no encouragement whatsoever. I do not expect him or any other gentleman to call on me.”
“He might. He danced with you.”
“And so have many other gentlemen. Let me assure you Lady Heathecoute set up the dance between Lord Dunraven and me. He was but a reluctant participant. You have no cause to worry about him putting me under a magic spell.”
“If he doesn’t, you will be the first. Just last year Lord Truefitt suggested in his column that Lord Dunraven was seeing Lady Lambsbeth. It turns out he was seeing her in secret while her husband was in France.”
Millicent gasped. “A married woman?”
She nodded once. “I’m sure by now you know that Lord Dunraven is quite hard to turn down.”
Oh, yes, I know.
“Lord Lambsbeth heard about it when he arrived in Town. He marched into White’s, drew his sword against Lord Dunraven, demanding a duel.”
“What happened?”
She sipped her tea again before saying, “Lord Lambsbeth’s friends grabbed his arm and forced him to put away his sword. Everyone knew he was much too old to challenge such a young man. I heard he and his wife immediately went back to Paris without further incident. There are always rumors about Lord Dunraven’s mistresses, stealing kisses in gardens, but nothing has ever upset him like the time he was linked to Lady Lambsbeth in the gossip columns.”
“It’s no wonder. Seeing a married woman. It could have cost him his life.” This was more proof that Millicent had been right in being so cautious where Lord Dunraven was concerned.
“Every year there is always a young lady who decides she can snare one of the earls. This year it is Miss Bardwell.”
“Yes,” Millicent said. “I’ve met her.”
“She tricked all three of them into dancing with her last evening. She does seem to be more forward than previous young ladies, and her father allows her wild behavior. And poor Miss Donaldson is heartsick. She fears her father wants her to marry an older bachelor who is determinedly courting her, and she is not at all delighted with his attentions.”
“How do you know all this?” Millicent asked, surprised and curious as to why Lady Lynette knew so much about what was going on in Society.
“I’ve told you. I listen to what is being said around me. I’m usually very careful not to repeat what I’ve heard, but for some reason you are so very easy to talk to. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve sought you out to talk to.”
“No, of course not.”
“Perhaps I’ve confided in you because you told me you will only be here for the Season. It would be a shame for you to set your heart for a gentleman who is beyond your reach.”
“You’re quite right,” Millicent agreed, but inside she knew she had enjoyed Lord Dunraven’s attention, even if he had done the same thing to a hundred young
ladies before her and even though he was risking her reputation.
As Lady Lynette sipped her tea, Millicent looked at her and realized that the young lady was a wealth of Society information. Millicent could almost write a gossip column just by listening to Lady Lynette. And that was good to know.
***
Chandler shook rain from his coat, then strode with purpose into the dark tavern located near Bow Street. The evening crowds hadn’t arrived, so even in the dim light it was easy for him to spot the man he was to meet.
The short, slim-built Thief Taker rose from his chair at the table when Chandler approached. “Lord Dunraven, I didn’t count on you wanting to see me again so soon.”
“Doulton. I expect you shall see me every day until I hear from you the thief has been caught and the raven has been recovered.”
Chandler picked up the bottle of port from the table and poured a splash into the glass that Doulton had pushed over to him.
“Tell me, what can I do for you today?” the man said.
Chandler’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what your men discovered yesterday.”
Doulton clasped his hands together and laid them on the table in front of him. He blinked slowly. “Well.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, causing a loud squeak. “I told you yesterday I have two of my best men interviewing guests who were in attendance at all three of the parties where there have been thefts. Someone was bound to have seen something or someone suspicious, but there are hundreds of people to talk to. That takes time, Lord Dunraven.”
“Then maybe you should have more than two Runners doing the questioning.”
“Perhaps I could spare more. I’ll look in to it.”
“Today?”
“Yes, today.” He shifted in his chair again. “You know that more and more people are considering the notion that it is a ghost committing the robberies.”
“A ghost?” Chandler gave him a curious stare. “Where did this come from?”
He blinked faster. “I’m not sure where it started, but it is queer that no one has seen anyone walking out with the missing items. And no one has reported seeing a stranger in any of the homes.”
“Don’t tell me you think there’s any possibility there’s a ghost doing this.”
“No, no, not me.”
“Good, because I can assure you it wasn’t a ghost who stole the raven. Damnation! One of the scandal sheets probably started this outlandish rumor, as they did with calling him the Mad Ton Thief.”
“Yes, now that you mention it,” Doulton said nervously. “I believe that is where it started.”
“Thank you for reassuring me you, at least, are sane. The jewelry could have easily fit in a man’s coat pockets, and the raven could have been held under a man’s waistcoat. Ghost indeed. Pickpockets can take your coin purse right out from under your nose without you realizing it. Does that make them a ghost?”
“No sir. But you must admit that the whole affair with this thief is rather strange.”
“No, Doulton. It is not strange to have a thief on the loose among the ton. The strange thing is that he hasn’t been caught and neither you nor the authorities have a suspect yet.”
Doulton sniffed uncomfortably and moved in his chair again. “I only meant that no one has seen anyone who looks like a thief.”
“Right, because a beggar would be easy to spot at a dinner party. It means they are damn good at what they do, so you have to be better.”
“Yes, quite right, and so we are.” Doulton rose from his chair. “The only problem is that we haven’t had enough time. You must give us more time. We have to interview everyone. Even the smallest clue might help us identify the thief.”
“There are other things that need to be done. I suggest you station a couple of Runners at each party to watch for suspicious-looking characters.”
“But that would cost a lot of money, sir. I’m not sure we have the authorization to do that.”
“I’m quite friendly with the lord mayor. If you need more money or men to help you accomplish this, tell me now, and I will speak to him. He will know how to go about seeing to it that you have more men on this case. And you need to have someone checking with all the known traders to see if anyone has shown the missing items.”
“That’s a very good suggestion. No reason for you to bother the lord mayor or anyone else. I’ll speak to him and see what can be done. And give me a few more days to look over all the information that my men have obtained so far. I’m sure we’ll come up with a suspect.”
Chandler didn’t know how many days he had. Even now someone could be melting the raven into a lump of gold. The only thing he knew for sure was that it wasn’t a ghost who had stolen the raven.
Seven
“Things without all remedy should be without regard, what’s done is done”—just ask Miss Donaldson. It’s reported that her father will soon make an announcement about her upcoming engagement. Miss Pennington danced with Lord Dugdale twice last night. Hmm. Are there bets the earl will be the fourth gentleman to offer for her hand this Season? And what is being done to find the Mad Ton Thief, or should he now be called the Mad Ghost Thief?
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
She was easy to identify in the flowing white gown and crown of small white flowers in her hair. The modest, round neckline of her evening dress was held on the shoulders by small capped sleeves and gold satin bands. Gold-colored bullion fell from the shoulders down her back like a shawl. A small band of gold satin fit snugly underneath her breasts. Chandler watched as she calmly made her way through the crowded room before being stopped by two older ladies of the ton.
He wanted to get closer to Millicent Blair, talk to her again, ask her to dance. But that wasn’t all he desired. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her tempting lips as he had this afternoon in Lady Beatrice’s garden.
He was quite proud of himself for not getting caught by that meddlesome dog. It was close, but thankfully he made it through the hedge, but not without wounds on his hands and a scratch on the side of his neck that he was able to hide with his neckcloth. Though, he admitted to himself with a smile, all the wounds were worth the kiss.
But, he must remain at a distance tonight. He had overplayed his hand last night in telling her he planned to discover the way to her heart. And perhaps he should have waited a few more days before trying to see her, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. He had needed to see her.
What had happened to the man who used to be so aloof?
What a sentimentalist he must have sounded like last night. He might as well be wearing his heart on his sleeve, but she intrigued him. That was all. She had been deliberately evasive to his questions just so he would want to seek her out again and again to know more about her.
And he had fallen for it. Hard.
Chandler shook his head. He didn’t know if he had ever been so charmed by a young lady who seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever.
He walked closer to her as he greeted friends and acquaintances in the crowded room. She was nodding, listening intently to the lady who was speaking to her. She looked sweet and pure, as if only thoughtful and congenial things would come out of her mouth, but he knew without a doubt that she could be direct or difficult, whichever suited her purpose.
Over the years, many young ladies and his mistresses, too, had excited him, but there was something different about Miss Millicent Blair.
Never had he met a lady so enchanting and so clever in avoiding his questions. Was she playing him in hopes of getting him to ask for her hand or was she truly not interested in him? Could it be that his reputation was so marred by his youthful indiscretions that now that he was interested in a proper young lady she feared he would only trifle with her affections?
She had been surprised to see him in the garden today, but she hadn’t been angry. He liked that about her. And she was very slow in rebuffing his attentions, allowing him tw
o kisses before she retreated. Obviously she was not afraid of him.
He wondered why she was so secretive about her family. That certainly put credence to what Andrew had said about her being from a poor family and only being interested in making a wealthy match. It wasn’t unusual for a lovely country girl to come to Town hoping some young buck would become besotted with her before he probed too deeply into her family’s background. If that was the case, it was no wonder she wasn’t interested in him. Anyone in Society could tell her that he had never given serious consideration to marrying any young lady.
Chandler’s intuition was usually sharp, and he had a gut feeling that there was more to Miss Blair than simply looking for a suitable match. But what?
A gentleman Chandler had never seen before caught his attention, and he let his gaze stay where the fellow lounged near the front door. Suddenly Chandler’s senses went on alert.
The man was properly dressed in evening attire like every other gentleman at the party but something about the man made him appear uncomfortable and out of place. This was just the sort of fellow he suspected the Mad Ton Thief to be, a man who obviously knew how to dress like a gentleman but didn’t look at ease being one.
Chandler decided to walk over and present himself to the man and find out who he was. He turned back for a quick glance at Miss Blair.
He liked the way she remained serene and gave her complete attention to the ladies. Her eyes didn’t search the room looking for a distraction or a reason to move on to someone else. That was an admirable quality. He had decided a couple of nights ago there were too many things to like about that intriguing young lady without adding more to the list.
“Good evening, sir,” Chandler said as he approached the gentleman. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Chandler Prestwick, the earl of Dunraven.”
The tall, sturdily built man bowed graciously, then said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Dunraven. I’m William Hogarth, in the employ of Mr. Percy Doulton. We’re here watching for suspicious-looking characters.”
Chandler smiled to himself. Hogarth was the suspicious-looking character.
