The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake

by Patricia Veryan

Rufus said, “By George, but you’re in the right of it! In fact, I bought one of their fruitcakes for my grandmama.”

  “With wonderful foresight,” murmured Cecily mischievously.

  Adair laughed. Rufus stared uncomprehendingly, then said, “You never mean it was the same one we shared in my cottage? Of all the ingratitude! I gave it to Grandmama months ago!”

  “I believe fruitcakes improve with age,” offered Minerva soothingly.

  “You’ve likely visited the nunnery, Miss Chatteris,” said Rufus. “I gained the impression that your uncle has been a generous donor. Is that the case, ma’am?”

  “Why, I’ve no idea,” answered Minerva, surprised. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. I think he has never mentioned such a place.”

  Adair thought, ‘I am very sure he has not!’

  * * *

  “It’s not the best part of Town.” Julius Harrington wandered around the parlour of Adair’s newly rented flat and paused to peer out of the window at the fading afternoon. “You’re going to get a deal of noise from Fleet Street. If you’d told me you meant to move, I could have found you a nicer place.”

  Adair settled himself in the window-seat and began to polish the grip of his small-sword. “I’m sure you could, but I don’t want a nicer place—for the time, at least. No one would think to look for me out here, yet I’m just a ten-minute ride from Mayfair.”

  “Optimist,” said Harrington.

  “In any case, you’ve done enough, Julius. I appreciate your having ventured back to my father’s house to collect my sword. You escaped injury this time, I hope?”

  “Fortunately. But I did not escape some searching questions from your housekeeper. She wanted to know why you needed it. I fobbed her off by saying your nephews wanted to see it. Even so, she gave it me with reluctance, and I’m not at all sure she believed me. She is very devoted to you.”

  “Yes, bless her heart. Did you chance to see Paige or Toby?”

  Harrington pulled up a faded armchair and inspected it through his quizzing glass before sitting down. “Manderville took Webber’s seconds in strong aversion. They insisted on delaying to Thursday, and then claimed their principal was generously allowing you time to set your affairs in order.”

  “Does Webber still swagger about boasting that I’ve been in hiding and afraid of facing him?”

  “He’s an unpleasant creature. Why does he hate you so much?”

  “An old score. Besides which, I dealt him a leveller in the pride. At the time he accused me of having broken his arm. If he’s ready to fight I must have been correct in thinking his shoulder was dislocated merely. Who are his seconds, by the way?”

  Harrington sighed and said glumly, “That fellow Nestor who’s always fawning around Prinny.”

  “Oh yes. One of the Carlton House set. Fancies himself a man of fashion.”

  “A misguided fancy. Brummell used to look at him and shudder.”

  Adair laughed. “Who’s the other?”

  “A former East India Captain; rather an odd duck. He must be at least fifty, but has a rosy-cheeked baby face and a great thatch of golden curls. He walks with a sort of roll; very nautical.”

  Adair’s hand stilled. Looking up sharply, he said, “Droitwich?”

  “Yes. You know him?”

  “By repute only. And if it speaks true, Lord help the poor devils who served under him. It’s not surprising that he would cry friends with Webber.”

  “True. They’re birds of a feather, no doubting.” Worried, Harrington said, “I wish you had allowed me to second you. Broderick’s a good enough fellow, but Manderville—well, isn’t he a touch cork-brained?”

  It was logical enough that so hard-working a public servant as Harrington should look askance at Manderville’s carelessly nonchalant approach to life. Equally as logical for Paige to have remarked scornfully that Miss Minerva deserved better than “a pudgy toad-eating politician who can speak for an hour and say nothing.” Stifling a smile, Adair said, “Don’t be fooled by his lazy manner. Paige is a very good man in a fight.”

  “Which is more than can be said for you! No, don’t eat me—be honest, Hasty. You’re no swordsman, and Broderick says your back is all the colours of the rainbow. If you’re slowed, Webber will show you no mercy even though he—”

  Flushing angrily, Adair said, “Deuce take you, Julius! Next you’ll have me on my knees in front of the clod! I may not be in the same class as Lucian St. Clair, but I’ve done some fencing and I’m not totally inept!”

  “No. Just reckless! You must be aware that you have a vengeful enemy. That fiasco with poor Alice Prior was carefully planned. Had to have been. If Webber’s the man who wants you dead, you’re granting him a perfect opportunity to achieve his ends!”

  “Well, dammit, what would you have me do? D’you suppose I want to fight a stupid duel when I’m bending all my energies to try and find out who stole Miss Prior and curst near got me hanged? I’ve no choice and you know it! Webber struck me in the face with his horsewhip. In front of all London—or much of it. You were there; you saw it. My honour may be in the dust, but I’ve not sunk so low that I can let that go by! Nor would you, I’ll wager.”

  Harrington said with a wry smile, “I’d use my wits to avoid such a horrid encounter, else Minna would be a widow before she’s a wife! Speaking of my lady, I’m driving down there tomorrow. Any messages, Hasty?”

  “Just give her my love, and—well, you might try to discover if my uncle has forgiven me. I’m in his black books.”

  “Yes. Minna told me it was something about those Lists of his. What did you do, take a peep?”

  “Not—exactly. But I’m fairly sure the bullies who broke in were after them.”

  “What—old Willoughby’s Lists?” Harrington said incredulously, “Surely you’re not serious. Who would want the silly things?”

  “I wish I knew.” Adair put down the sword and looked out at the river, his eyes remote. “Have you any idea what kind of information my uncle collects?”

  “None. Save that there’s a dashed lot of it and he guards those Lists as ferociously as if they were State secrets. Of late I’ve begun to wonder if he’s not—no offence, my dear fellow—but he does seem to be slightly—er, unbalanced.”

  “You may disabuse your mind of that notion. My uncle is an eccentric, I’ll grant you, and perhaps he’s not a deep thinker, but he’s as sane as you or I.”

  There was an edge to Adair’s voice, and Harrington was relieved when York, the emaciated individual who now served Adair as valet and general factotum, opened the door to announce another caller.

  Harrington’s brows lifted. “Rufus Prior?”

  “Yes. Are you acquainted?”

  “Never met the fellow, or any of the Priors, come to that. They’re said to be a fiery lot.”

  Prior came in, a long flat case under his arm. “My apologies if I’m late,” he said, with a curious glance at Harrington.

  Adair stood and performed the introductions.

  As the two men shook hands, Prior said, “You’re in Parliament, ain’t you? My father took violent exception to your speech about the improvement of the road through Hyde Park.”

  Harrington smiled good-naturedly. “It’s difficult to please everyone.”

  “True enough.” Prior opened the case to reveal two small-swords. “I’ve come to give Adair a lesson.”

  “Good Lord!” exclaimed Harrington, recoiling in horror.

  Adair chuckled. “No cause for alarm, Julius. Mr. Prior is an expert fencer and has kindly offered me some instruction in the art.”

  Harrington stared. “Prior? But I thought … that is—”

  “Oh, we’ve acquitted him of any guilt in the abduction of my sister,” said Prior. “At least, my cousin and I accept his version of the business. We are, in fact, all working together to try and find poor Alice.”

  “You are?” Fascinated by this new development, Harrington asked, “Have you had any success?” />
  Adair took off his coat and rolled back the wristbands of his shirt. “Let’s say we have unearthed some promising clues. And now, Julius, I must very impolitely ask you to leave. There’s little enough room for the lesson and you’d be at considerable risk if you stayed to watch my clumsy efforts.”

  “Actually, he’s remarkably quick,” said Prior, helping Adair move the sofa to the wall. “I doubt you’d be in danger of being badly cut if you wish to stay, sir.”

  Harrington refused this golden opportunity, however, and took his leave, promising in the tiny entrance hall to let Adair know “how the wind blew” at Blackbird Terrace.

  Adair returned to the parlour to find Prior flexing the blade of his sword. “This is a jolly fine weapon. If the seconds agree, you’d be well advised to use it on Thursday.” He tossed the sword and snatched up his own. “Off with your shoes. Ready? En garde!”

  For the next hour the air rang to the beat and scrape of steel on steel, the stamp of stockinged feet and the occasional breathless shouts of the two men.

  “C’est assez, merci!” gasped Adair at length, stepping out of distance. “Phew!”

  “I agree,” panted Prior. “You’re a sight better than I expected after only two lessons. In fact, you dashed near had me with that thrust in low carte. I think you’ve hoaxed me, Adair. You’ve fought before.”

  “I’ve fenced before, and I’ve had some challenging battlefield encounters. I’ve never fought a duel. And if we hadn’t put buttons on the points, that brilliant time thrust of yours would have written my finis! I’d like to practice that manoeuvre, I’ve never been able to master it.”

  “Don’t. It’s deadly dangerous.” Mopping his brow, Prior sprawled on the sofa. “Better that I show you how to counter it.”

  Adair shouted for York, and ordered ale.

  Prior said, “Your new man looks like an undertaker. Where did you find him?”

  “He was a chef. A good one. But—he served some—er, unfortunate shellfish, and was held accountable.”

  “Jove! D’you mean he poisoned someone? I wonder he wasn’t transported at the very least.”

  “They couldn’t prove it was deliberate, and he swore it was not, but of course, he was ruined. I know the feeling. So I took him on. I begin to think I’m very lucky to have found him.”

  “Trusting of you,” said Prior. “But I think I’ll not stay for dinner!”

  “And I think you lack an adventuresome spirit!”

  York carried in wine and a tray of sliced cold meat and cheese.

  When he had gone away again, Adair asked, “Tell me what you found in your sister’s suite. Anything useful?”

  “I found nothing. Cecily came across a reticule that had a lot of bits and pieces inside. Not much help, I’m afraid.”

  “What kind of bits and pieces?”

  “Let me think—there was an earring set with aquamarines, a Spanish hair comb, a small pair of scissors. I believe that’s all, except for a few buttons.”

  “Buttons?”

  “They can be quite ornate, you know. I’ve an aunt collects the things. Has boxes of ’em. I’ve often wondered what in the world she means to do with ’em. Cecily thought you might like to see for yourself what she found.”

  “I would indeed, but I don’t dare show my face at your house. Confound it! I wish I might call on her. Does she ride in the mornings? Would you be offended if I met her in the park?”

  “I would not. But if my papa were to hear of it—awful!”

  “Yes, and I’m a fool, for she should not be seen in my company.” Adair frowned and was silent.

  Watching the strong face, Rufus murmured, “I think you’re another victim. Have a care. My cousin is quite an enchantress.”

  “She is very lovely.” Adair reddened. “I gather I am obvious, but rest assured—I know I’m not the first to admire her. Certainly, I must be the least acceptable, even were I not the prime suspect in the disappearance of your sister.”

  “Acceptable in what sense? Would you court Cecily under different circumstances?”

  “The lady can look as high as she pleases, obviously. At best I had a comfortable competence and my army pay.” He shrugged ruefully. “Less than a scintillating parti for your beautiful cousin.”

  “Who is also,” said Prior idly, “a considerable heiress.”

  Adair shook his head. “And that should properly drive me to the ropes. But I’ll be honest with you. When I clear my name I shall pursue your beautiful cousin despite her fortune. What do you say to that?”

  Watching him thoughtfully, Prior said, “You evidently enjoy battling against long odds, Colonel.”

  12

  Looking up from the walnut he’d just cracked, Paige Manderville declared indignantly, “I shall do no such thing! Lord Ignatius Dale rarely hosts a party, but when he does stand the huff, it’s a jolly fine show. Get your own invitation, you unprincipled pirate!”

  “You are all heart.” Adair threw another log on the fire and crossed to re-fill Manderville’s wine-glass. “I should have told York to serve kippers for dinner!”

  “What—after I’d condescended to take a draughty hackney coach all the way to the hinterlands on a wet evening? Had you done so savage a thing I’d have added my name to your list of enemies. And you’ve more than enough of those to be going along with. Still, I’ll have to admit you were right, Hasty. Your aspiring undertaker is a splendid cook. That beef was tender as butter and I liked his way with the crab.”

  “Then, since you are sufficient of an ingrate to refuse to give up your invitation, will you at least grant me a favour?”

  “Not if it’s going to result in more assault and battery on my very nice self. I value this body almost as much as the ladies do.”

  Adair offered an audible prayer for strength. “I ask only that you get word to Miss Hall that tomorrow evening I shall be at the Dales’ masked ball, and beg her to meet me there.”

  Manderville shook his head. “Objection number one: You are fighting a duel early the following morning and have no business cavorting about at a party for all hours of the night. Take my advice, my lad. I’ve been out twice and I know. Get to bed early, else your courtship of the lady may cease before it is properly begun.”

  “Good advice, I’ve no doubt, but—”

  “But you’re a colonel and don’t take advice from a lowly lieutenant. I knew I was wasting my breath, but I tried. So be it. Objection number two: You have no invitation and you may disabuse your mind of whatever slippery schemes you’re hatching to appropriate mine. I have my own—er, fish to fry.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that, but with or without an invitation, I shall attend.”

  Manderville sighed. “Third objection: How will you find the lady? It’ll be a crush, I promise you, and with everyone masked—”

  “Ask that she wear a blue flower, and I’ll find her.”

  “But—”

  Adair’s jaw set in the way that Manderville had come to respect. “No, do not try to turn me aside, Paige. I go only to meet the lady and will not stay for the unmasking, I promise you. If there should be trouble, steer clear of it. What do you know of my reluctant host, by the way?”

  “He is very plump in the pockets—and in his person. His hauteur is legendary—a frightful snob. There’s a rumour that his lady holds her nose up so high that she frequently trips over her own feet, though I’ve never seen her do so. Lord Iggy has a grand mansion in Mayfair, and a large and impressive country seat in Sussex to which no one below the rank of baronet is ever invited.”

  Amused by the irreverent abbreviation of the proud peer’s name, Adair said, “If the Dales are so high in the instep, how did you ever wangle an invitation to their ball?”

  Manderville grinned. “The invitation was sent by Lady Dale, who is madly in love with me, of course.”

  “What you mean is that the invitation was intended for your father. Rumour has it that he was quite the Don Juan in his day and is doub
tless acquainted with the lady.”

  “With many ladies, and his day is not done, I promise you. He taught me all I know and I very comfortably continue in his footsteps and add lustre to the Manderville reputation.”

  “I think you could delete the final two letters of lustre…” Adair laughed and caught the nut Manderville hurled at him. “No, seriously, Paige, is it truth that Lord Dale is in some fashion powerful in Whitehall?”

  “If he is, it must be an extreme deep secret. I’d have judged his head to be one of the emptiest in the southland. Though, now I come to think on it, that description would fit many of the esteemed diplomatists who guide the affairs of our hapless nation! Well, never mind about that. If I’m to call on your admired lady, I must be on my way. Mr. Prior’s as top-lofty as old Iggy and will likely deny me, but I’ll get your message to her somehow—since you didn’t serve me kippers for dinner!”

  * * *

  Risking the ire of his family, early the following morning Adair paid a quick visit to his faithful friend Mrs. Redditch. The housekeeper was delighted to see him, and in spite of her obvious apprehension did not hesitate to offer her help. She managed to retrieve an invitation to the masked ball which Lady Andrea had thrown away. Her ladyship had been heard to say that it had been sent with the malicious awareness that nowadays she and the Viscount would not dare show their faces to the “almighty Dales.”

  Adair gave Mrs. Redditch a hug and left by a rear door, troubled by the knowledge that because of his disgrace his mother must be shunned by the society she loved. He harboured no illusions; Lady Andrea was a selfish and foolishly proud woman. But the ties of blood could not be denied, and when he’d pleased her she had shown him a warm affection. Now and then while he was in school, and later, during the Peninsular campaign, she had taken the time to write chatty little letters that had meant a great deal to him. Knowing her, he knew how deeply she must be grieving, and if that grief was for her own ostracism rather than for his ordeal, he could not like to be the cause of it, and prayed that he might very soon dispel her unhappiness.

  * * *

  “Well? Well?” snapped Lady Abigail Prior irritably. “Have you never before rested your eyes upon a lady of Quality?”