An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  But why else would she be here? She radiated no malevolent ambience, and truly seemed to be putting the Duchess at ease. And yet, something felt amiss. Something he could not quite put his finger on. Not just yet.

  “You are too kind, Miss McCarthy.” The Duchess dabbed the last of her tears away and folded her hands neatly in her lap. A force of habit, no doubt, learned through decades of propriety.

  “Did anything seem peculiar, the night she went missing?” Miss McCarthy asked, in a quiet voice. “As I mentioned, it serves a family well to remember the events leading up to a tragic occurrence such as this. Sometimes, it can help their loved ones be found. Sometimes, it simply helps them to corroborate everything in their minds.”

  What are you trying to discover, Miss McCarthy? Her line of questioning echoed soft and casual, but Christian saw a glint of something in her eyes. A determination, perhaps. He didn’t think it possible that she could be an investigator, given the nature of her sex, but she spoke with the persuasive skill of an expert one.

  The Duchess paused in thought. “I do not think so, from what I am able to recall. We spent the day together at the botanical gardens and returned home in the early evening. We dined, as we always do, at seven o’clock. After which, we convened in the drawing room to read and converse. She retired half an hour before I did, but I peered into her bedchamber on my way to bed, as I always do. Nothing seemed amiss. That is why all of this is so atrociously upsetting. She was fast asleep in her bed. I saw her. I even went into her bedchamber, as she had left the window open. I went to close it in case she caught a chill, but I did not see anybody else in the room, and I must have spent several minutes there.”

  “I am so very sorry, Your Grace.” Miss McCarthy reached out to pass the Duchess a clean handkerchief. “That must be horrible for you, knowing you left her safe and sound, only to find that some brute had stolen her away in the night.”

  The Duchess heaved a sob. “I cannot comprehend how no one heard anything. Her brother sleeps in a chamber close by, and he did not stir.”

  “Tell me, Your Grace, was the window to your daughter’s bedchamber open when she was found to be missing?” The glint of determination had come back into Miss McCarthy’s eyes, and Christian spotted it immediately.

  She was most definitely speaking like and investigator now. He had been privy to a similarly gentle investigation when his own mother had not returned home from an engagement in the countryside. As it turned out, the carriage had acquired a broken wheel, and they had been forced to stop in a local village until it could be fixed, but he remembered the investigator’s skillful repartee, all the same, when the fellow had spoken with his now-deceased father about it.

  The Duchess’ mouth fell open. “Why… yes, yes it was open! My goodness, how could I not have observed such a thing? But I know I closed it and pulled the drapes across it. My goodness, Miss McCarthy, the drapes were also open!”

  She must be a sorceress. Christian could hardly believe it. A few moments in this room, and already this young lady was garnering information that could be useful in locating Lady Helena. It urged Christian to remain silent upon the suspicion that she was not all she seemed, for if she could aid in finding his fiancée, then that could only be a good thing. Regardless of her apparent subterfuge.

  “Might you take me to Lady Helena’s chambers? We might see if you remember anything else of that night, for your own sake. The more you recall, the more sense you may be able to make of what has happened.” Miss McCarthy spoke with such innocence that even Christian almost believed she had no ulterior motive.

  The Duchess nodded effusively. “Yes, of course. I cannot believe that I did not remember that I had closed the window and the drapes. What a fool I must be! Perhaps… yes, perhaps there may be something more that I have yet to recall. Please, follow me. Oh, Miss McCarthy, you cannot know what hope this gives me.” She stood sharply and hurried across the room, with Miss McCarthy and Christian in pursuit.

  Well done, whomever you may be. Truly, it inspired some hope in Christian, too, for he had been attempting to encourage the Duchess to allow the investigators to do their work, ever since the first one had arrived outside the house. Now, it finally looked as though the Duchess was relenting, even if she did not realize she was under some method of investigation.

  As they walked, Christian jolted when Miss McCarthy turned her attention on him. The Duchess was a short way ahead, just out of earshot. Perhaps, that had been deliberate—Christian was uncertain how careful Miss McCarthy was endeavoring to be.

  “Did you dine with the family, the night Lady Helena was taken?” she asked, in a hushed tone.

  Christian shook his head. “No. I was at my own residence, on the other side of Mayfair. I had not seen Lady Helena since the day before.” He didn’t know why he was giving up such information without hesitation. Again, it appeared that Miss McCarthy had a way about her that loosened people’s lips.

  “You may be her fiancé, but do you know of any other gentlemen who had an interest in Lady Helena? Any spurned suitors, or anyone of that ilk?”

  “I do not, Miss McCarthy. Lady Helena had many admirers, but I cannot think of anyone who might wish to cause her harm.” Christian frowned, as he wracked his brain for any possible perpetrators.

  Miss McCarthy nodded. “And she loves you?”

  “What sort of question is that?” Christian could not help but feel affronted. What is she attempting to say in this?

  “Lady Helena would not be the first young lady to elope with a gentleman she is not engaged to.” Miss McCarthy tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. “If there were not five others in the same situation, it may have seemed the most obvious conclusion. Unless, she sought to use the kidnappings as a means of eloping without suspicion?”

  Anger bristled through Christian’s chest. “She was very much looking forward to our union. We have known each other since we were children and have always supposed we would be engaged to one another, one day. Nor is she the type of fickle creature to make her family endure such torment, for the sake of an elopement. If there was another who had captured her heart, she would have told her mother and father, and they would have understood. Even if there were another, and they would not have understood, she adores her family far more than she adores me. She would not be making them suffer, I assure you.”

  “I had to be sure,” Miss McCarthy replied. “I meant no offence by it. And I believe you are correct, but I had to inquire, in case.”

  “Who are you?” Christian hissed.

  “I am a woman of no importance to you, but of great importance to Lady Helena being found safe and well.” Her eyes leveled with Christian’s, and they held a challenge within them. “It is my duty, and my desire, to ensure she is rescued.”

  Christian’s head spun with confusion. “What are you?”

  “As I said, a woman with a duty to discover the villains who did this, and see Lady Helena safely back in your arms, so you may be wed.” Miss McCarthy sped up, moving to the Duchess’ side as they entered the bedchamber of Lady Helena. Naturally, Christian did not dare to follow, for his fiancée’s chamber was sacred ground where he could not step. Instead, he lingered on the threshold as they went inside, his eyes widening in bemusement as the door closed in his face.

  Who the devil is she? Her gall, her subterfuge, her manipulation… he did not know whether to be appalled or impressed. But, if she truly could do something to find Lady Helena, then perhaps it was for the best that he kept his mouth firmly shut.

  However, one thought remained as he stared at the closed door. Whomever this terrier was, he reasoned she would not stop until she had a culprit in chains. Which begged the sickening question…

  Does she think me a suspect?

  Chapter 3

  Victoria switched directly into investigative mode, though she made a point of not appearing too peculiar to the Duchess. She need not have worried, for the Duchess had fallen silent the moment t
hey came into her daughter’s bedchamber. She stood still, staring about the place as though she did not recognize it, or as if it were a far-off dream that she had almost forgotten.

  Using the distraction to her advantage, Victoria walked to the window and peered down. The room lay on the first floor of the house and looked directly over the stretch of greenery that served as a garden. A tall fence bordered the back of the lawn, with a doorway built into the center. Behind it, she knew there sat an alleyway, separating this garden from the ones opposite.

  How could someone have spirited Lady Helena away from a first-floor bedchamber, without anyone hearing? If they had used the chamber door, one of the staff would surely have seen them leave, or someone would have stirred at the heavy sound of the villain and his quarry. Victoria presumed the wretch had carried Lady Helena, for she would not have gone willingly. Not unless Lord Galbury was mistaken about Lady Helena’s potential lovers. However, Victoria did not think he was—it was obvious that the young lady adored her mother and would not have put her through this heartache.

  She had garnered as much from the way the Duchess spoke of her daughter, with some supporting evidence from Lord Galbury. They had been to the botanical gardens together—the Duchess and her daughter—on the day Lady Helena was snatched. And they dined and conversed together, seemingly as part of a well-worn routine. That suggested a happy family, and Victoria had no reason, as of yet, to think otherwise.

  I wish I might speak with the Duke… but perhaps that will not happen today. Encouraging herself to be satisfied with the intelligence she already had at her disposal, Victoria glanced down at the sill. Two dark smudges streaked the white-painted exterior, just below the window. She brushed her fingertips across the smudges, feeling two fresh, ragged grooves beneath.

  A ladder… he used a ladder to gain entry, and presumably to remove Lady Helena. After hearing the Duchess describe Lady Helena’s appearance, Victoria realized it was not an impossible notion. The Duchess had a very slender build, and since she had clarified that she and her daughter were very much alike, it stood to reason that Lady Helena had the same delicate figure.

  She thought back on the other kidnappings. Every young lady who had been taken had also been of slight build, though she had not realized its importance until now. It was not a factor that many gentlemen would have noticed or dared to comment upon. But Victoria didn’t have the same mentality that they did.

  “Have you noticed anything else amiss, Your Grace?” Victoria turned to the Duchess, keeping the presence of the two smudges to herself for now. She did not want to reveal her true employment until she had everything she needed.

  “No…” The Duchess sounded despairing, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

  “Do not fear, Your Grace. She will be found. I have faith that she will.” Victoria walked to the Duchess, who had come to a pause beside the rumpled sheets of Lady Helena’s bed and put a tentative hand upon the older woman’s forearm. A gesture of friendliness and reassurance.

  The Duchess looked at her with imploring eyes. “Do you truly believe so?”

  “I do.” Because I am the one looking for her, and I refuse to fail.

  Victoria was about to offer further words of comfort, when a speck on the floor caught her eye. Spurred on, she left the Duchess to her private thoughts and knelt beside the bed, to get a closer look at the curious anomaly. A scrap of black fabric hung limply from a nail that had come loose, sticking out of the wooden bedframe. Peering even closer, Victoria noticed a faint trail of rusty brown, smeared on the head of the nail.

  Blood…

  She ducked under the bed and found a thin blanket of dust beneath. However, in the center of the gloomy floor, there lay a spread of clean ground. As though someone had lain there… waiting for their moment to pounce. She closed her eyes and tried to encourage a scene to play out in her mind. A man hiding beneath the bed, having entered through the window. He would have pulled himself up so he could seize his prey, catching himself on the nail as he did so.

  Then what? The bedsheets were twisted, as though Lady Helena had wrung them in fright. And right where Victoria crouched, she found crumbled morsels of… mud, perhaps? From the boots of whomever had done this. Following the trail, she discovered more of the crumbled granules, leading to and from the window.

  He must have managed to immobilize her, somehow, and then carried her back down the ladder. She suspected that, if she were to investigate the doorway at the back of the garden, she would find boot prints in the dirt. That was why nobody had heard a whisper of any wrongdoing. The cretin had entered and departed through the window, taking pains to ensure that Lady Helena remained silent.

  “Miss McCarthy?” The Duchess shattered Victoria’s reverie.

  “Yes, Your Grace?”

  The Duchess sighed. “Who are you, really? You do not seem to be here for the sole purpose of bringing me comfort. I am grateful for the comfort you have offered, but you appear to know more of this sort of thing than an ordinary young lady would.”

  The ruse could not last forever. Concern churned in Victoria’s stomach, for she was so very close to attaining all of the information she required. To be cast out now would not be beneficial to her investigation.

  “I pray you will not be cross with me. My intention was to bring you comfort, but I also intend to ensure that your daughter is returned to you. That is the comfort I truly want to offer.” Victoria paused. “I am an investigator, Your Grace. I do not belong to Bow Street, but I occasionally work alongside them. Admiral Benedict Thomson is my true colleague.”

  The Duchess gasped. “You are an investigator?”

  Here comes the usual tirade…

  “Why, how wonderful!” the Duchess continued, taking Victoria by surprise. “I have often thought that we ladies would feel more content to be in the care of other ladies, if ever a crime were to happen. Gentlemen can be so brusque and unfeeling.”

  “I fully agree with that sentiment.” Victoria mustered a shy smile.

  The Duchess lowered her gaze. “In all honesty, I did not expect you to say you were an investigator in your own right. I thought one of those sulking ingrates outside had, perhaps, sent you in their stead.”

  “Goodness, no.” Victoria chuckled tightly. “I like to have as little to do with most of those men as possible. All but the Admiral, who is as honest and genuine a man as you are likely to find. Indeed, he has been as a second father to me, after the passing of my actual father. He would have treated you with the same care and attention that I have.”

  “Is that so?” The Duchess tapped her chin in thought. “In that case, perhaps I may relent to having the two of you search for my daughter. Although, you would have to promise that you would not allow any of the others to partake. You have told a white lie to me, Miss McCarthy, but there is something about you that makes me want to trust you. Besides, if this Thomson fellow was once an Admiral, then that inspires a great deal of faith.”

  “I hope that you will trust us, Your Grace, and I would be only too happy to convey your wishes to the Admiral.” Victoria jittered with excitement. “We will bring your daughter home, I swear it. In fact, I have already taken some steps that may aid us.”

  “You have?” She stepped closer to Victoria.

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Victoria proceeded to move about the room, pointing out the evidence she had found: the smudges, the scrap of black fabric, the trace of blood, and the disturbed dust beneath the bed.

  The Duchess looked deathly pale when Victoria had finished. “You are exceedingly talented at this, Miss McCarthy, and you have been unerringly discreet and polite. You have not torn this room to shreds, as others might have done.” She swallowed loudly. “Yes, I quite think that you and your Admiral will suffice in pursuing this, to locate my daughter.”

  “There is hope, Your Grace.” Victoria never forgot the human element to these cases. The worries of the families were precisely what drove her to succeed, so she could put tho
se concerns to rest. Of course, there were occasions in which she wasn’t able to deliver good news, but she hoped this would not be one such occasion.

  “There is?” The Duchess trembled in fear.

  “There is no sign that your daughter was injured, or that any physical harm came to her. There is no blood of hers, which is always encouraging.” Victoria paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. “And, if this villain has struck before, then it stands to reason that he has some purpose for his victims.”

  The Duchess braced against the bedpost. “What sort of purpose?”

  “I cannot say, as of this moment, but if he has chosen to target the wealthy elite, then my gut tells me it has something to do with that. If he had wicked ideas in mind, he would have selected easier targets—dock workers, prostitutes, barmaids, and the like. This required effort and planning. I would not be surprised if it pertained to the value of the ladies he has taken,” Victoria explained. “That way, he has a hope of a return on his investment, after putting such pains into this dastardly endeavor.”