by Diane Gaston
Charlotte’s smile became wooden.
‘In less than a week,’ Mariel managed.
‘How lovely,’ Annalise said too brightly.
Charlotte stood. ‘Come up to my bedchamber and see these new gowns I had made. They were delivered this morning.’
The two dogs ran along with them. Two gowns were draped across the bed—one a pale aqua, the other, rose.
‘This V-shaped waist is to be all the rage, the modiste said.’ Charlotte ran her finger over the seam. ‘As well as the flounces on the skirt.’
‘They are lovely.’ Annalise laughed. ‘I cannot believe my tree-climbing sister is prosing on about dresses!’
Charlotte poked her. ‘I like to look pretty for Drew.’
As Mariel had once wanted to look for Leo. She had been right to stay away from Charlotte and Annalise. In their presence all she could think of was Leo.
‘Where do you plan to wear the gowns?’ she asked.
‘I thought I’d wear one to dinner at Nick’s tonight.’ Charlotte fingered the cloth of one, then the other. ‘If I can decide which one.’
‘The rose,’ her sister said. ‘It will enhance your complexion.’
‘Nicholas is hosting a dinner tonight?’ Mariel asked.
Charlotte moved the dresses to a chaise longue in the room and climbed on the bed.
Annalise climbed up beside her. ‘For the family. His wife is expecting, you know. She is due any day now and goes nowhere. She is starved for company.’
The pugs made several efforts to jump on the bed, to no avail.
Mariel picked up the dogs and handed them to Charlotte before joining her friends. ‘Is everyone attending?’
‘The whole Fitzmanning Miscellany.’ Charlotte turned to Annalise. ‘You should have been at Lady Sendale’s ball. It was like old times, wasn’t it, Mariel?’
Too much like old times, Mariel thought. ‘Almost.’ Her voice wobbled.
‘Even Leo attended,’ Charlotte went on. ‘Although he was vexed about something at the end. Before that we were dancing like we were back at Welbourne Manor. Weren’t we, Mariel?’
She’d danced joyfully with Leo at first. It was painful to think on their waltz together, though. ‘Is Leo attending Nicholas’s dinner?’
Charlotte threw up her hands. ‘Who knows! None of us can make any sense out of what Leo does. I tell you, he’s been quite erratic since the fire. We cannot talk any sense into him, and, believe me, we’ve tried.’
‘I know what is wrong with him.’ Annalise turned smug.
Charlotte squirmed to attention. ‘What? Do tell us.’
‘A woman.’
‘A woman?’ Charlotte laughed. ‘It is about time. Drew and I have often said Leo needs to settle down.’
Mariel sat very still, as if even moving a finger would betray her pounding heart. ‘Who?’ she asked.
Annalise shrugged. ‘I do not know precisely, but it makes sense, does it not? A man involved with a woman always behaves oddly.’
Had Annalise seen her with Leo? Where? In the park? Impossible.
But Annalise must be speaking of her. Mariel might not know what progress or lack of it Leo was making in finding the bank clerk, but she was certain there was no other woman.
Not the way he had kissed her. Not how he had held her. Something else caused him to pull away.
‘A mistress?’ Charlotte cried. ‘Leo? I should have known. It goes with his gambling and drinking and who knows what else he’s been engaged in.’
Theft and burglary, Mariel thought. All terrible risks.
For her sake.
Was he engaging in even more serious risks? Was that why she had not heard from him? The idea caused knots of fear to twist inside her. She had the right to know what he was doing. She needed to know. This was her problem and he should not shut her out. She was of a mind to march right up to his door and demand to know what he was doing for her.
Demand to see he was unharmed.
She could not call upon a gentleman herself, of course. She would send Penny with a note insisting that Leo meet her tomorrow. The park might not be a good idea. Rain was likely. Besides, who knew how tempted she would be if alone with him again?
Hatchards would do. Hatchards it would be.
* * *
Later that afternoon, between rain showers, Penny stepped from a hackney coach and knocked upon the door to Mr Fitzmanning’s rooms, her insides fluttering, not from nerves but from expectation.
Maybe Mr Walker would open the door.
It was silly of her to be so excited about seeing him again. Even sillier that her thoughts so often wandered to him. While she was brushing out Miss Covendale’s dresses or putting hairpins back into their silver box, he popped into her mind and refused to go away again. She’d never been a dreamy girl, not with losing her parents and having to go into service so young.
She did not know what to do with all these feelings about Mr Walker. How was she to stop thinking of him and start paying attention to her work again? She could not tell the housekeeper about this man. She would merely ring a peal over her head because she wasn’t working hard enough. The other maids were likely to gossip about her and make it into something that would get her in trouble.
And it would not be at all proper to ask Miss Covendale what to do.
She knocked at the door again. Perhaps he was not even inside. She rocked on her heels, waiting, and lifted her hand to knock again.
He opened the door.
She gasped. His coat was unbuttoned and he wore no neckcloth. She could see his bare chest through the slit in his shirt, dark hair peppering it. His hair was dishevelled and his chin unshaved. He looked quite magnificent.
‘Miss Jenkins!’ He quickly buttoned his coat and moved aside for her to enter.
She stepped just across the threshold. ‘I have a note from Miss Covendale.’
‘Is anything amiss?’ He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, only slightly taming it.
‘I do not think so.’ She looked up at him.
He gazed down at her, his expression confusing to her. She could not tell if it was admiring or disapproving.
He still grasped the doorknob. ‘Fitz—Mr Fitzmanning—is not at home.’
He remembered their conversation about calling his employer Fitz. Who else thought her prattle worthy enough to remember? Except Miss Covendale, of course.
‘I will give the note to you, then.’ She fished it from her pocket and placed it in his bare hand.
His fingers brushed her glove as he accepted it. It made her feel all warm inside.
That confused her. She started to chatter, ‘Miss Covendale wondered why she has not heard from Mr Fitzmanning for so long. There isn’t much time left, you know, and she is worried.’
Mr Walker averted his gaze. ‘We have been working on it. Fitz—Mr Fitzmanning—has been to Coutts Bank where the teller worked and he’s spent a great deal of time in gaming hells trying to get information.’
‘Are you helping him?’ she asked. He said we, after all.
He nodded. ‘My part has been to befriend Kellford’s servants, particularly his valet. You can tell your lady that we believe we are getting close to locating the clerk.’
‘Are you?’ How very clever of them! ‘She will like hearing it. I should tell her straight away.’
She took a step backwards as if to leave.
‘Wait!’ He cleared his throat. ‘Will you wait for me to...to make myself more presentable? I will walk you back to your lady’s house.’
She glanced outside. The rain looked as if it would hold off long enough, and, if it did not, she carried an umbrella this time. She would much rather walk the mile and a half with Mr Walker than ride in a coach. Perhaps Miss Covend
ale would not mind if it took her a little longer to get back.
‘I need the air and I would enjoy the walk...’ he paused ‘...and the company.’
She turned back to him and smiled. ‘I would like that very much, Mr Walker.’
* * *
That evening Leo planned to visit two or three gaming hells to see if any new talk about Kellford was circulating. Word was he was ‘up to something,’ but no one knew what. Tonight he hoped someone had discovered what it was. Walker was already out. Kellford’s valet had arranged to meet Walker at the tavern where they had met before. Between the two of them they might be able to discover precisely where Kellford was hiding the bank clerk.
Leo crossed the room to leave when there was a knock at the door. He cursed. Who would call upon him at this hour?
He opened the door and the answer was obvious.
Brenner.
His eldest half-brother, his mother’s legitimate son, stood in the doorway. ‘Good evening, Leo. I’ve come to collect you for Nicholas’s dinner party.’
Good God. It had slipped his mind completely.
He made a dismissive gesture. ‘I cannot attend, Brenner. I have an important meeting.’
Brenner pushed past him and entered his rooms. ‘You cannot mean that, Leo.’
He did mean it. Finding the bank clerk could be a matter of life and death for Mariel.
Brenner’s gaze slid to Annalise’s paintings still leaning against the bare walls. ‘The family is already gathered at the Manning town house.’ He glanced back to Leo. ‘We are waiting dinner for you.’
They were waiting for him? How like them to be stubborn enough to wait until the food was unfit to eat and would be wasted and then blame him for it.
‘That is ridiculous, Brenner. Surely one person should not hold up an entire dinner party.’
Brenner gave him a steady look. ‘I agree. Come with me now.’
Leo threw up his hands. ‘This is precisely the sort of pressure I despise. And you all excel at it. I have important matters to attend to, but that means nothing to you.’
Brenner’s gaze remained steady. ‘What important matters, Leo? We know something is troubling you. Tell us what it is.’
Could Brenner not conceive that there might be something he preferred not to share with his siblings?
Brenner’s voice turned low. ‘Perhaps we can help you. We all want to help you.’
Leo bit down on an angry retort. His siblings always assumed he could not handle his own problems without their advice and assistance. If he did talk with them about Mariel, they would merely explain to him all that he’d done wrong—as if he did not know—and then they’d get busy fixing it.
There was nothing they could do that Leo could not do himself.
He made himself return Brenner’s gaze. ‘Some things a man must do on his own.’
Brenner did not look away. ‘A man also recognises when he needs help.’
Leo rubbed his temples, which had begun to ache. ‘I’ll attend the dinner with you.’ He had no wish to hurt them. He’d go to the gaming hells afterward. They’d be open all night. ‘But don’t tease me further about this.’
* * *
The next morning Mariel waited by a shelf of novels at Hatchards Bookshop, paging through one volume of Armance as if she were considering the purchase of it.
She could not even see the words.
What if he did not come?
She steeled herself. If he did not come, would it mean he was hurt? Or in danger? Or—or imprisoned in Newgate? Penny had reported no such thing yesterday, but much could happen overnight.
How like two years ago that she had not heard a word from him.
She took a breath. What was she to do if—if Leo failed—what could she do to escape Kellford? She was going to be a wealthy woman in two years. Surely someone would lend her the money to support her mother and sisters for two years.
But paying back what her father had stolen would mean revealing the theft and that meant her father’s life.
If theft meant her father’s life, it could mean Leo’s, as well. What if he’d been caught in another theft or some such thing on her behalf?
‘Mariel?’
His voice startled her. She snapped the book shut and turned, weak with relief.
His tall frame filled the space between the shelves and charged the air, making her senses tingle. He was definitely very fit, very uninjured.
‘Is anything amiss?’ His gaze was intense, his posture taut, as if he were ready to march into battle for her. When he looked upon her that way, she could almost believe in him again.
She mentally donned armour. ‘I meant to ask you the same thing. Is there anything amiss? I have heard nothing from you and it has been an age.’
He stepped closer. ‘I told you to leave it to me. Walker and I have been working day and night to learn the whereabouts of the bank clerk.’
Penny had reported as much from Walker.
Mariel lifted a brow. ‘And?’
His mouth slowly widened into a smile. ‘And... We know where he is.’
They’d found the man? Mariel placed her hand on his arm. ‘Where is he? Have you spoken to him? What does he want for his silence?’
He covered her hand with his own. ‘We only know where he is. It will take some travel to reach him.’
‘Where is he?’ she cried.
‘We must keep our voices down.’ He glanced around, but there was no one in earshot. ‘Kellford has a hunting lodge near Maidstone, not far from Marden Thorn. A day’s ride by coach.’
She was still touching him and he, her, she realised. She pulled her hand away. ‘When do we leave?’
‘We?’ He shook his head. ‘You are not going, Mariel. Walker and I will go.’
Oh, no. She would not be left behind this time. They were in this together.
She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it again. She knew him well enough—or thought she did—to predict he would merely dig in his heels if she pressed the matter.
‘Very well.’ She must be craftier than he. ‘Will you ride? That would be fastest, would it not?’
‘We will engage a coach. We’ll have to bring the bank clerk back to London. A coach seems the most secure way. We should reach Maidstone in five or six hours on good roads.’
‘You will have to leave very early.’ She used a cautionary tone.
‘The coach and driver will fetch us at six,’ he assured her. ‘We will have time if we need it, never fear. We’ll find the clerk and be back with days to spare. You will see.’
He took her hand and squeezed it gently.
An ache grew inside her.
She believed he would do as he said, precisely as he had done since he first learned of her problem. But that episode in her drawing room had convinced her Kellford could be very dangerous. If Leo became imperilled, she was determined to be there to assist him.
She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘I am worried.’
He moved closer and leaned down as if he were going to kiss her. Nothing impeded her moving away from him. Except she could not.
His lips hovered inches from hers, but he retreated again. ‘I will not fail you, Mariel. Trust me. Leave it to me.’
The word trust made her flinch. It was not Leo she mistrusted. It was Kellford.
Leo smiled again. ‘I had better leave now. There is still much to do.’
Unable to speak, she merely nodded.
He hesitated a moment, as if reluctant, but then turned and walked away.
Mariel leaned her forehead against the bookshelf, trembling inside, wishing his mere presence would not affect her this way.
She straightened her spine and made her decision. When she walked out of th
e shop, it had begun to drizzle. She hurried to find a hackney coach and gave the driver the address.
* * *
A short ride had brought her to Charlotte’s house. A few minutes later a footman escorted her to Charlotte’s sitting room.
The two pugs ran to her as she entered. Charlotte, still in a morning dress, greeted her with outstretched arms.
‘Mariel! I am surprised to see you again so soon.’ She clasped both of Mariel’s hands and was too kind to mention that it was unfashionably early for callers.
‘I have come on an urgent matter, I’m afraid,’ Mariel told her.
‘Urgent?’ Charlotte gestured for her to sit. ‘What is it?’
The dogs jumped up and settled beside her.
Mariel swallowed. ‘I need a favour and I could think of no one else to ask.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Well, I should hope you would think of me. What do you need?’
She faced her friend. ‘I need you to lie for me.’
Charlotte’s brows rose.
How to tell her? How much to tell her? ‘I need to tell my parents that I am visiting with you for a few days. I—I need to go some place and I do not want to tell them where.’
Her friend’s expression of concern looked so much like Leo’s that it took Mariel aback. ‘What is this about, Mariel?’
Mariel stood and paced. ‘I—I do not wish to marry Lord Kellford, but, for reasons I cannot explain, I cannot merely cry off. I must contrive it so he no longer wishes to marry me. To do that I must go away.’
Charlotte leaned forwards. ‘You do not wish to marry Kellford?’ She breathed a relieved sigh. ‘I am so delighted. I confess, I could not like him at all. Oh, I know he is charming, but—I cannot put it in words. He is not at all the husband for you. I will do whatever you need for me to do.’
* * *
Lord Kellford looked up as the man entered his library. ‘Well? What information do you have for me?’
After witnessing Fitzmanning and Mariel together, Kellford hired a man to keep watch on Fitzmanning. Fitzmanning was up to something, Kellford was certain. He’d had it in for Kellford for a long time.
