More Than A Mistress

by Ann Lethbridge

  And when he smiled down at her, the gold burst around his pupils as bright as a guinea, she could almost believe it would last forever.

  But it didn’t.

  The orchestra played the final notes and, looking down into her face, Charlie slowly released her. Was it regret she saw in his gaze, sorrow in the slight tightening around his lips, or was it all wishful thinking?

  She gave him a bright smile. ‘That was grand.’

  He smiled. ‘Thank you. You dance like an angel.’

  ‘More like a baby elephant.’ They laughed and linked arms.

  Many eyes followed their progress off the floor. Men and women. Wondering eyes.

  Did one pair belong to the man in the cellar? Would he strike? The joyful mood from their dance dissipated as if a cold wind had blown through the room.

  Charlie guided Merry to the refreshment table.

  ‘Mountford,’ a male voice said behind them. ‘I got your letter.’

  Charlie swung around. The man before him held out his hand.

  ‘Blade,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m Tonbridge, remember?’

  ‘Sorry, I forgot.’ Blade grinned beneath his magnificent brown moustache.

  ‘Merry, this is Captain Bladen Read. Read, this is my fiancee, Miss Draycott.’

  ‘Delighted to meet you.’ The captain bowed.

  ‘So, Blade, how are you finding Yorkshire?’

  He grimaced. ‘Cold on more than one front. Several of us from the York camp are here tonight. Out of uniform. The army is not popular at the moment.’ He spoke carefully, like a man well on the way to half-seas over and his twinkling hazel eyes looked a little bleary.

  Everyone dealt with the aftermath of Waterloo in their own way. Charlie could only wish brandy worked for him.

  Blade turned his charming smile on Merry. ‘The Miss Draycott?’

  Merry’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t know of any others.’

  ‘Don’t tease her.’ Charlie knew Blade of old. The man was an incorrigible flirt. And a confirmed bachelor.

  Digby sauntered up. ‘May I have this waltz, coz? Show family solidarity and all that?’

  Merry glanced at Charlie. He nodded. A private word with Blade was just what he needed.

  They watched Merry dance with her cousin. ‘She’s a lovely woman,’ Blade said. ‘An heiress and not a wart or bristle on her chin. Can’t think why she’s not been snapped up before.’

  Charlie’s nape hair rose. ‘Well she’s snapped up now.’

  ‘No need to poker up, old fellow. I’m not in the market for a bride. Although with a fortune like hers, I’d be tempted. Not that you are in need of money,’ he added swiftly at Charlie’s glare and rigid shoulders. ‘She’s a very attractive woman in her own right.’

  They moved a little apart from the dance floor, seeking a quieter place for conversation.

  Charlie flexed his fingers. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Well enough. Regiment’s gone downhill. We lost too many of the good ones.’

  Cold steel twisted in Charlie’s gut. He glanced down at his friend’s left hand.

  Blade grinned when he saw the direction of Charlie’s gaze. He raised his arm and the sleeve fell back, revealing a wickedly sharp hook. ‘Makes a great weapon. And holds the reins just fine.’

  The recollection of Blade’s screams when the women took his finger sent a shudder of revulsion across Charlie’s shoulders. He hoped Blade didn’t see it. But of course he did, because his grin widened. ‘I was one of the lucky ones. If you hadn’t stabbed that old crone, who knows what she would have cut off next?’

  ‘If I hadn’t led that bloody charge, you wouldn’t have ended up off your horse.’

  ‘It was glorious, though, wasn’t it?’

  Glorious and foolhardy. Utterly mad. Their commanding officer had been beside himself with anger, when he’d finally found Charlie in hospital.

  So many good men lost, because Charlie lost his head.

  Bitterness rose in his throat like bile. He swallowed it down. He lived with the guilt as best he could. ‘As I wrote, I need your help.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Someone is trying to do my heiress harm.’

  Blade’s eyes sharpened. ‘Gad, an adventure. Who?’

  ‘I don’t know. But he may well be here tonight. I might need you to watch my back.’

  ‘Like old times.’

  ‘You will need your wits about you.’ He looked pointedly at the glass tucked inside Blade’s left elbow.

  Blade shrugged and set the glass on the windowsill. ‘I’m better than I was.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ He scanned the dance floor. He couldn’t see Merry. She had been there moments ago, waltzing with her cousin in prime style. She’d drawn many envious glances from the other women. But now she was gone.

  He cursed under his breath.

  ‘What is it?’ Blade asked.

  ‘Where is Merry?’

  He frowned. ‘I didn’t see her leave.’

  ‘Look around, will you? I don’t see her damned cousin either.’ They circled the ballroom in opposite directions.

  Anxiety closed his throat. How the hell could he have let this happen?

  ‘There you are,’ Lady Allison said, appearing at his elbow. ‘There are young ladies dying to meet you.’

  ‘In a moment,’ he said. ‘Have you seen Miss Draycott?’

  She smiled brightly. ‘Ladies’ withdrawing room. Digby stepped on her train. She went off to pin her lace.’

  He let go a sigh of relief and let Lady Allison introduce him to a group of debutantes—vestal virgins he always called them because he never could remember their names. They all giggled and blushed and peeped sideways over their fans. Unlike Merry, who looked him straight in the eye.

  He shot a not-to-worry grin at Blade across the room.

  His friend nodded.

  Several minutes passed and still Merry didn’t return.

  Worry returned, more intense than before. ‘Excuse me, ladies. I see an old acquaintance.’ They chorused their dismay as he strode from the ballroom.

  ‘Ladies’ withdrawing room?’ he said to the footman at the door.

  ‘Down the hallway to the right.’

  Blade caught him up. ‘Still no sign of her?’

  ‘Or her cousin. Lady Allison said she’d gone to the withdrawing room.’

  ‘With her cousin?’ Blade said, meaningfully.

  Charlie stopped. ‘They are family.’

  ‘Family members don’t always like each other. More betrayal in families than anywhere else.’ He sounded bitter.

  Charlie’s heart stopped. The educated voice in the cellar could easily have belonged to Purtefoy. The undercurrents of dislike had been palpable when he and Allison visited Durn. But what would he gain by her death? Even if the family thought her a dirty dish in their cupboard, it hardly counted. Everyone had one or two of those.

  His heart drummed louder. His chest tightened. ‘We’ll check the withdrawing room first. No sense in yelling “fire” before it happens.’

  They sped down the hallway. A woman emerged into the corridor. She smiled at them vaguely.

  ‘Is Miss Draycott in there?’ Charlie asked.

  The woman looked startled. ‘No one is in there.’

  Charlie closed his eyes. Damn. His stomach churned. Merry had gone off with her cousin. She could be anywhere. How like Merry not to let him know.

  ‘Where next, old fellow?’ Blade said.

  Charlie narrowed his eyes. ‘Lady Allison.’

  They hurtled back to the ballroom, but she also was nowhere to be found.

  ‘If they meant to do Merry harm, where would they take her?’ Charlie asked, looking around as if the walls might give him a clue.

  ‘Somewhere away from the guests, where she wouldn’t be heard. Lots of people staying tonight, because of the snow.’

  ‘The stables?’

  ‘The attic.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

 
; Blade grinned. ‘I have an idea.’

  He went back to the footman at the door and leaned heavily on the wall beside the man. ‘Whersh your mashter?’

  ‘I don’t know, sir.’

  ‘Got to know. Servants always know. Thing ish, see, I’m a war hero.’ He held up his hook. ‘Losht this at Waterloo. Want him to help me find it.’

  He put an arm around the man’s shoulders and leaned hard. He stroked his cheek with the pointed metal. ‘Where ish he, old chap? Don’t want to damage anything, but I need hish help.’

  The man turned bright red. ‘He is otherwise engaged, sir.’

  ‘Where?’ He placed the hook against the man’s throat.

  ‘In the library. But he won’t appreciate being disturbed.’

  ‘Too bad.’ He clumped the man over the head with the base of the hook hidden beneath his coat sleeve and the man slumped to the ground. Blade showed his teeth. ‘Great weapon in a brawl that hook. Give me some help here.’ They dragged the unconscious footman along the hallway and pushed him into a niche.

  Blade always was a ruffian at heart. ‘Did you have to hit him?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘You are getting soft, Major. Don’t want him raising the alarm, do we?’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘Right.’

  They hurried down the corridor to a set of double doors. Charlie placed his ear against the door and heard voices. He pulled his pistol from his pocket.

  Blade grinned and produced his pistol. ‘In case of insurrection, don’t you know.’

  They tried the doors handle very carefully and quietly. Locked.

  A scuffling sound could be heard on the other side of the door. Charlie’s blood congealed.

  ‘We have to get in there.’

  ‘Take more than a boot to smash that lock,’ Blade said. He fired his weapon and they went in through the puff of smoke.

  ‘Good God.’ Purtefoy, bending over the fireplace, whirled around to face them. ‘Oh, it’s you, Tonbridge. And Captain Read.’ His gaze shifted from one to the other. He smiled awkwardly. Guilt flashed in his eyes as he sank into the nearest chair. ‘Can’t a fellow blow a cloud in peace?’ He waved the cigar he’d been lighting from the coals in the fire.

  ‘Where is Merry?’ Charlie said.

  ‘Cousin Honor, you mean? I left her in the ballroom moaning about her gown.’ He shook his head. ‘I can imagine why you might fancy a roll in the hay with her, but engaged? You really can’t, not unless the Mountford fortunes have plummeted.’

  The insult drove a spike of heat to Charlie’s brain. Somehow he kept a grip on his temper and prowled closer, his pistol cocked. ‘Mountford fortunes are as they ever were, Digby. What have you done with her?’

  The other man waved a languid hand. ‘She’s probably tupping a footman, or one of the stable boys. You do know that’s why she was expelled from school.’

  Charlie recoiled.

  ‘Didn’t you know?’ Digby sneered. ‘You do now. Everyone else will, too, if you continue with this engagement. You were supposed to be courting my sister.’

  ‘Shut your filthy mouth and tell me where she is.’

  ‘She’s nothing but a thorn in my family’s side, but as for her whereabouts, you are welcome to search for her.’

  The man was just too confident. Charlie’s gut dipped. Wherever Merry was, she would not be easily found. In an old house like this there could be any number of secret staircases and priest holes. If she was still alive. His stomach did a sickening roll.

  No. He wouldn’t believe it. The man hadn’t had time. Had he?

  He looked around. ‘I heard voices. She has to be here.’

  ‘Check behind the curtains, why don’t you, or under my chair,’ Digby mocked.

  Blade was looking distinctly annoyed, his smile all teeth and cold eyes. ‘So you don’t have a clue where she went, old fellow?’

  Digby shook his head. ‘As I say, ask the stable boys.’

  ‘I’d sooner have a drink.’ The soldier pointed to the decanter at Digby’s elbow. ‘D’you mind?’

  ‘You’ve had enough,’ Charlie said, wondering what his friend was up to.

  ‘None of your business,’ Blade said and closed in on the decanter with a slight stagger that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  Charlie tensed.

  Blade poured a glass and turned to look at Charlie. ‘Looks like you’ve tangled yourself with an unsavoury young woman, my friend. If you want my advice, you’ll forget all about her. Cry off.’

  Charlie clenched the grip of the pistol. Digby didn’t know just how much danger he was in.

  Digby nodded agreement. ‘Leave her to us,’ he said. ‘I’ll sort her out. As head of the family, it is my responsibility.’

  Blade took a long swallow from his glass and leaned on the high back of Digby’s chair. ‘Good advice,’ he said, patting Digby’s shoulder with his hook.

  Digby glanced down at the sharpened metal and swallowed. He started to rise. ‘Well, if that is all, gentlemen—’

  ‘Not so fast,’ Blade said. He patted Digby’s cheek. The man paled.

  Blade chuckled. ‘What are you afraid of, man? This old missing hand of mine?’ He ran the tip down Digby’s cheek, leaving a red line on the pale flesh. ‘It’s taken out an eye or two and leaves a nasty scar.’ He traced a path from the corner of Digby’s mouth to his ear. ‘Accidentally, of course.’

  Charlie curled his lip. ‘And who wouldn’t believe two heroes of Waterloo that it wasn’t an accident?’

  Digby sat still. Utterly frozen, his eyes wide and terrified.

  Blade moved the hook to hover over Digby’s eye. ‘One eye, I think. A drunken stagger, an arm outstretched for balance, drags right across his face. Nothing left to sew together. I’ve seen it many times.’ The words were as chilling as his face.

  The coward shuddered. ‘No! She’s in there.’ He pointed at the fireplace. ‘A priest hole. Twist the cherub to the right.’

  ‘You bastard,’ Charlie said. He tossed his pistol to Blade. ‘Keep him covered. He’s going to pay for this. And for Jane’s murder.’ He released the catch and a portion of the wall swung clear of the chimney breast. Gagged and bound, Merry dropped to her knees.

  Charlie pulled his knife from his pocket and cut her free.

  ‘Charlie, thank God.’ Her face was ashen.

  ‘You have nothing to tie me to any murder,’ Digby cried out. ‘No evidence at all.’

  Charlie picked a dazed-looking Merry up and put her in a chair. He chafed her hands. ‘Don’t be so sure. The simple fact of your treatment of Miss Draycott is evidence of wrong doing.’

  ‘The bitch brought it on herself. She as good as killed Jane Harper’s brother. Then she changed her will in favour of some destitute whore. Our family was supposed to inherit Draycott’s. The old man’s will left it to us on her death.’ His face twisted in disgust. ‘Now Father insists I marry the slut.’

  ‘What?’ Merry gasped. ‘I wouldn’t marry you if you locked me in that place for a hundred years.’

  Charlie looked at the dark and narrow place beside the hearth and bit back a curse. He wouldn’t want to be in there for a hundred seconds.

  Digby’s lip curled. ‘Forget marriage. All I wanted you to do was change your will in my favour.’

  ‘And if she refused?’ Charlie asked.

  He shrugged, the sneer on his face more pronounced. ‘She’s a woman. Any judge learning of the reckless way she’s behaved, setting up a house for whores, trying to run a business by herself and losing money hand over fist, would put her finances in the charge of her male relatives. To protect her interests. It stands to reason. She’d be thanking me for stopping them from incarcerating her for operating a damned bawdy house.’

  ‘It was not a bawdy house.’

  He looked morose. ‘Jane would have testified otherwise.’

  ‘You beast!’ she yelled.

  Sickened by the man’s machinations, Charlie put up a hand. ‘It looks as if you are the one
going to prison. For murder.’

  Digby pressed his lips together briefly. His blue eyes flashed. ‘Prove it.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll have much trouble convincing a jury,’ Charlie said. ‘A duke’s heir trumps an earl’s, you’ll find.’

  Digby paled. ‘You are a disgrace to the title. You should be supporting me, not her. I will be a peer. Your equal. Hell, you were going to marry my sister, for God’s sake. What an insult, turning up here with that.’ His scornful gaze turned on Merry.

  She wilted under his gaze.

  Charlie clenched his fists. Hitting Digby wouldn’t help their case against him.

  Blade waggled his pistol. ‘I suppose we’ll have to see what the magistrate says.’

  The viscount pushed to his feet. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Merry.

  Charlie’s heart lurched. He stepped in front of her. ‘You will have to kill me first.’

  The man’s chin bobbled. ‘You self-righteous bloody bastard.’

  Charlie glared at him.

  Digby’s face crumpled. Resignation filled his eyes. ‘Allison knew nothing of this.’

  His gaze begged for belief. Charlie nodded, his gut rebelling as he saw in those eyes what came next and would do nothing to stop it.

  Digby turned the pistol to his temple and fired. He fell to the floor with a hollow thump. Merry screamed.

  ‘Don’t look,’ Blade said, kneeling beside the body. ‘He’s gone.’ He picked up the edge of the carpet and tossed it over the fallen man. ‘We’ll leave him for the magistrate, who luckily is here at the ball.’

  ‘His father wanted him to marry me,’ Merry whispered. She gave an odd little laugh and covered her mouth with her hands, her gaze tangling with Charlie’s. ‘And he killed himself.’

  ‘It’s over, Merry. He was mad,’ Charlie said.

  ‘As queer as Dick’s hatband,’ Blade agreed. ‘Come on, Miss Draycott. I think you should go home.’

  ‘My house,’ Charlie said.

  Durn’s front door swung open. The stiffness in Merry’s shoulders eased. A sigh escaped her lips. She wanted to crawl into bed and stay within the circle of Charlie’s arms. Arms that had held her all the way home. Strong protective arms. Only there would she be able to forget the happenings of this night.

  She smiled up at him. ‘Home at last.’