Madeleine flashed her a contemptuous glare. ‘The Duke of Swinton of course.’
Eleanor dropped her toast. ‘The Duke of Swinton?’
‘Of course,’ sniffed Madeleine, placing her hand on James’s forearm. ‘There is no one else who could possibly wish ill of James.’
Eleanor dragged her eyes away from Madeleine’s tiny hand and sought out the butter dish as a pang of now familiar jealousy pierced her. ‘Perhaps not, Lady Madeleine,’ she replied coolly. ‘However the Bow Street Runners will require proof before they are in a position to accuse anyone.’
‘Phoo,’ scoffed Madeleine, removing her hand from James’s arm and flourishing a dismissive wave. ‘If they want proof then I shall go out and find some.’
Now that, Lady Madeleine, mused Eleanor, is an excellent idea.
Quite what drove Eleanor to Derek Lovell’s bedchamber in her first search for clues, she could not say, other than she had always been in possession of that elusive, intangible quality known as ‘women’s intuition’. It proved as reliable as ever as, in the minute it took for her to peep her head around the man’s empty bedchamber door, a crucial piece of the puzzle slotted magically into place. In order to find the next piece, she would need to meet again with Dick and Sam – the two men who had left the message for Derek Lovell. And the sooner she met with them, the better.
Thankfully for all concerned, the dowager, still in her sickbed, had apparently heard nothing of the shooting episode – and James wished it to remain so. He had ordered the servants not to talk about the matter above stairs. Downstairs, though, it was doubtful the talk would be of little else – with particular focus on who had been holding the gun.
Indeed it was that matter which occupied everyone’s minds, particularly when it was revealed that the Duke of Swinton – the prime suspect - had retired to Bath with his wife, several days before the incident.
Lady Madeleine, however, refused to be swayed. ‘It is not unheard of, James,’ she observed over dinner that evening, ‘for gentlemen to pay a lackey to carry out their dirty work.’
‘I hardly think, Lady Madeleine,’ Eleanor had retorted, ‘that a man who has been awarded a medal for bravery in the Battle of Vittoria would stoop so low as to pay a lackey to dispose of his wife’s lover.’
Madeleine had glared menacingly at her, while James had toyed with his food before making his excuses and leaving the table.
After dinner, Eleanor paid a visit to her godmother. Despite visiting her three times a day, she still found the experience a little unnerving, expecting the woman at any time to open her mouth and roar for Stevens. Having read her another chapter of Mrs Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent, Eleanor made the dowager comfortable and was about to leave the room when she asked blithely, ‘Oh, I was just wondering, Godmother, if you have received a reply from Lady Neilson in Hungary yet?’
The dowager shook her head. Exactly the response Eleanor had expected.
The following morning, Eleanor was outside the castle gates at exactly the same time as the previous day. Just as she had hoped, the two men she was awaiting cantered into view shortly afterwards. Eleanor kicked her horse to a gallop and thundered towards them.
‘Good morning, Mr Dick. Mr Sam,’ she said graciously, determining not to show the men any hint of her nerves.
The men doffed their scruffy hats. ‘Morning, miss,’ said the older man. ‘I’m taking it you’ve seen Mr Lovell and he’s got the money ready for us?’
Eleanor pulled a rueful face. ‘I’m afraid I did not have the, er, pleasure of meeting Mr Lovell at all yesterday. The man’s social life is quite … active and he is rarely at home.’
The two men sneered knowingly. Eleanor ignored them, launching in to the speech she had been rehearsing for several hours now. ‘I have however, another mission for the two of you if you are interested; one which would pay very well. But, should you wish to accept the task, you must both assure me of your complete confidence.’
A lop-sided smirk appeared on the younger man’s face. ‘Oh, you can have as much confidence as you like, miss, so long as the price is right.’
The other man nodded.
‘Very well then,’ said Eleanor authoritatively. ‘What I shall require you both to do is this …’
Eleanor, James and Madeleine were in the drawing-room later that afternoon when Giles appeared with his silver tray on which lay a note. ‘This has been delivered for Lady Ormiston, ma’am’ he informed Eleanor gravely. ‘Her grace has requested that it be passed to yourself for reply.’
‘Really?’ Eleanor wrinkled her forehead. ‘Bring it here please, Giles.’
Whipping the envelope from the tray, Eleanor dismissed the servant with a nod, before reading the note. A large smile spread across her face as she did so. ‘Oh how charming. We have all been invited to a ball at Carlton House.’
Evidently unimpressed, James merely grunted, not raising his eyes from his book.
Madeleine, though, could scarce contain her excitement. ‘Carlton House?’ she repeated, setting aside her embroidery tambour. ‘Oh, how wonderful. Who has invited us?’
‘Oh my word,’ declared Eleanor, pressing a hand to her chest. ‘None other than the Countess Lieven.’
‘Countess Lieven?’ squealed Madeleine. ‘Well in that case we simply have to go, James. But … oh my goodness … what on earth shall I wear? I shall have to have a new gown. I must go to London tomorrow and order a new one. When is the ball, Lady Eleanor?’
‘Next Thursday,’ replied Eleanor smoothly, before adding, ‘And I think perhaps you will be required to wear Hungarian dress, Lady Madeleine. The ball, it appears, is in honour of the Hungarian ambassador and his family.’
As the smile slipped from Lady Madeleine’s face, the woman turned a curious shade of green.
TWENTY
‘Milly, do you know if your mother has any rat poison left in the cottage?’ asked Eleanor the following morning.
Milly gasped in horror and spun around to face Eleanor. ‘Oh no miss, don’t be telling me them pesky rats have moved in here now.’
Eleanor, seated on the blue sofa in her dressing-room, couldn’t resist a smile at Milly’s aghast expression. ‘No,’ she explained calmly. ‘It’s nothing like that. I just need a little for an … experiment. Actually, Milly, I’m going to need your help too – and Ed’s.’
‘What on earth are you doing, girl?’ enquired Derek Lovell as, later that afternoon, he came across Milly on all fours, on the stone floor of the corridor, her blonde head stuck under an old church pew.
‘Rats, sir,’ she declared solemnly.
‘Rats?’ he repeated in a disgusted tone.
‘That’s right, sir. Lady Eleanor swears blind she saw the biggest rat of them all creeping about last night. Looked everywhere on her floor, I have, and everything is pointing to them nesting here. Going to have to search all the rooms, I am, otherwise Lady Eleanor ain’t going to get no sleep, sir. Not ’til she knows they’re gone.’
Lovell pulled a repulsed expression. ‘How very … interesting. And what exactly are you planning on doing with them when you find them? I do hope we’re not going to have traps going off at all hours of the day and night.’
‘Oh no, sir. I’m not messing about with traps. Going to kill them with poison. That’ll get rid of them once and for all. Nice and quick and no mess.’
Lovell raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Hmm. Well, um, get on with your work, girl. I’m sure Lady Eleanor will be needing you soon to help with her hair or something of such import. Oh, and if you absolutely must go into my room, don’t steal anything,’ and with that, he turned on his heel and marched along the corridor towards the stairs.
Milly pulled her head out from under the bench and stuck out her tongue at the man’s arrogant retreating back.
‘Oh, Milly, well done,’ declared Eleanor, slipping out from her hiding place behind a suit of armour, just as Lovell disappeared around the corner. ‘You did so well.’
M
illy straightened up. ‘I wasn’t half bad, was I, miss?’ she said, glowing at the compliment. ‘Maybe I should be one of them actresses in the theatre. Might even nab myself a rich lord or something.’
Eleanor raised her hand to her mouth in mock horror. ‘I can just imagine my godmother’s reaction if I told her that was what you were planning.’
They both giggled before Eleanor said, ‘Now come on. We’d better be quick in case Lovell or his valet come back up. Give me the box of poison, Milly, and I’ll go and put it in his room.’
Milly handed her the box. ‘I’ll whistle if anyone comes, miss,’ she said, evidently relishing her importance in their secret mission.
Eleanor nodded, before cracking open the door and slipping inside. Derek Lovell’s bedchamber was so obviously that of a man, with none of the delicate touches normally evident in a female’s room. Eleanor placed the box of rat poison on the window seat. There was only a little left, which would, she hoped, give Lovell the impression that Milly, having most likely opened a new box, had forgotten to take the almost empty one with her. Having successfully accomplished her mission, she slipped out of the room.
Later that evening, Eleanor, James and Madeleine had convened in the saloon just before dinner, when in swaggered Derek Lovell.
‘Good God, Lovell,’ declared James, his long legs stretched out before him as he slouched in the armchair normally occupied by his aunt, ‘don’t tell me you are joining us for dinner this evening.’
Lovell came to a halt in front of the fireplace and bowed a greeting to them all. Madeleine, seated in the chair opposite James, speared the unexpected dinner guest with a contemptuous glare before moving on to study the rings on her fingers.
‘Didn’t think it was right that I’d deprived you all of my company for so long. Not a problem is it?’
James didn’t reply. Instead, he addressed himself to the footman in attendance. ‘Stevens, set another place for Mr Lovell. He will be joining us for dinner.’
‘Aren’t we the lucky ones,’ muttered Lady Madeleine, still toying with her jewelled fingers.
James flashed her a reprimanding glare.
The footman was about to take his leave of the room when Eleanor added, ‘Oh, and Stevens, I would be most grateful if you could then go down to the kitchens and arrange a mustard plaster to be taken up to Lady Ormiston. She requested it earlier but it quite slipped my mind.’
‘Of course, my lady,’ said the servant with a bow. He exited the room immediately, leaving Lovell looking a little disgruntled.
‘Hmph,’ he huffed, surveying the almost empty glass James was cradling. ‘Suppose I’d better help myself to a drink then’.
‘Yes, I suppose you had,’ replied James coolly.
Lovell took a few steps towards the drinks tray, coming to an abrupt stop at the side of James’s chair. ‘Looks like you could do with a top up, Prestonville,’ he said, holding out his hand to take James’s glass.
James handed the item over to him without saying a word and, still in his slouched position, plunged both hands into his breeches’ pockets.
‘Thought I might go into London later,’ prattled Lovell, his back to the rest of the group as, amidst much clinking of glass, he poured the liquor.
‘Really?’ sniffed Madeleine. ‘Now that would make a change, Mr Lovell.’
Lovell emitted one of his irksome sniggers as he turned, carrying two brandy glasses. He handed the one in his right hand to James, before turning his attention to Madeleine. ‘Why Lady Madeleine, do I detect a hint of sarcasm? Or are you perhaps a little put out that I have not invited you to accompany me?’
Madeleine gave a snort of contempt. ‘If you think that I would consider such an invitation for even a second, then you are more of an imbecile than I thought you, Mr Lovell, and that would be quite a feat for any man.’
‘That it enough, you two,’ snapped James.
Madeleine pursed her lips and, sticking her chin in the air, turned her head away from Lovell and towards the fireplace.
This resulted in another grating titter from Lovell, who proceeded to seat himself at the far end of the sofa to Eleanor. ‘Cheers then, Prestonville,’ he beamed, raising his glass in a toast. ‘Here’s to an argument-free dinner.’
James mirrored the gesture, but before he had a chance to raise the glass to his lips, Eleanor leapt from the sofa, sprinted across the room and snatched the brandy glass from his hand.
‘What the-?’ began James, jerking into an upright position.
Before he could continue, the door to the saloon burst open and in entered Giles, followed immediately by M. Aminieux and a colourful, plump lady, dressed in a riot of pink and orange.
Giles appeared even more perturbed than usual. ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ he began curtly, ‘but-’
‘That’s quite all right, Giles,’ cut in Eleanor, now standing in front of the fireplace with James’s glass. ‘I instructed Monsieur and Madame Aminieux that they were to follow you to the room and not wait to be announced.’ She turned her head to Madeleine and affected an innocent smile. ‘We did not wish to spoil your surprise, Lady Madeleine. After all, we know how upset you were at having to miss the Aminieux’s on Thursday and how much you are looking forward to conversing in your own language.’
Madeleine looked completely askance as Eleanor then turned her attention back to the butler. ‘Thank you for adhering to my instructions, Giles. We shall call if we require you again.’
As a perplexed Giles left the room, closing the door behind him, it was not only Madeleine who was speechless: James and Derek Lovell appeared equally as flabbergasted as they gawped at the colourful, beaming visitors hovering by the door.
‘Please do come in monsieur, madame,’ invited Eleanor, gesturing to the pair to be seated on the sofa alongside Derek Lovell. ‘Lady Madeleine is bursting to speak with you.’
‘Hogy vagy,’ gushed Madame Aminieux, holding out her plump arms as she waddled towards Madeleine. Madeleine shrank back as the woman then proceeded to bend down and embrace her.
‘Ah,’ sighed M. Aminieux, clutching both hands to his rounded chest, ‘she has been looking forward to this for so long. It is a great shame that there are so few Hungarians here. She is never having the chance to be speaking her own language.’
‘That is indeed a pity, M. Aminieux,’ agreed Eleanor. ‘And what a treat for us all to witness Lady Madeleine speaking her mother tongue.’
Madame Aminieux released her hold of a breathless Madeleine. ‘Ah, milyen csinos végre találkozni veled,’ she sighed,
Madeleine gawped imploringly at Derek Lovell.
‘I do believe, Lady Madeleine, that you are in shock,’ remarked Eleanor concernedly. ‘Perhaps a sip of this brandy, which Mr Lovell very kindly poured for James earlier, will help soothe your nerves.’ She handed the glass to Madeleine who, casting another terrified look at Lovell, reluctantly accepted it from her.
All at once, Derek Lovell thrust to his feet. ‘I do believe Lady Eleanor,’ he declared, walking over to Madeleine and swiping the glass from her tiny hand, ‘that Lady Madeleine is not in the habit of drinking brandy. Perhaps you would prefer a sherry, ma’am?’ he suggested.
A wave of relief washed over Madeleine’s beautiful face. ‘Er yes. Thank you, Mr Lovell. That would be most kind.’
‘Oh, indeed it would, Mr Lovell,’ replied Eleanor, swooping the glass from his hand as he passed by her. ‘However it would be a great pity to waste this measure – unless, of course, there is another reason why Lady Madeleine does not wish to consume the brandy.’ She fixed Madeleine with a quizzical look.
The Hungarian shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ‘I have no idea-’
‘Oh, well, in that case,’ broke in Eleanor, ‘please do allow me to demonstrate. Ed!’
No sooner had she called his name, than the door opened again and in marched Ed Maguire, carrying a small cage containing a large black rat.
Madeleine gasped in horror, screwing up he
r nose in disgust. Madame Aminieux produced a handkerchief, which she pressed over her nose and mouth.
Eleanor greeted the boy and his companion with a charming smile. ‘Good evening, Ed. Would you please carry out your instructions.’ She handed the boy the brandy glass.
Ed placed the cage on the low table around which the group were seated, Lovell having now resumed his position alongside the Aminieuxs on the sofa. They all watched in stunned silence as he opened the cage door, retrieved a small bowl from inside, filled the bowl with the brandy from the glass, then replaced it in the cage and closed the door. He nodded to Eleanor to indicate the completion of his instructions before crouching down at the side of the table and observing the animal as it sniffed about its alcoholic offering.
It was Derek Lovell who broke the bewildered silence. He cleared his throat before remarking in a quivering voice, ‘Lady Eleanor, you appear to have gone quite queer in your attic. I think perhaps Lord Prestonville and I should escort you to your room. What do you say, Prestonville?’
James fixed him with cold, narrowed eyes for a few seconds before stating, ‘I agree that Lady Eleanor is acting strangely, Lovell, however, she is perfectly correct in pointing out that none of us have yet had the pleasure of hearing Lady Madeleine converse in her mother tongue’. He turned his cool gaze to Madeleine. ‘I wonder if you would now be so kind as to oblige us, Lady Madeleine.’
Madeleine shifted uneasily. ‘Well, I am not really fluent in Hungarian. That is, I mean I have never –’
‘Never been to Hungary, madam?’ interjected Eleanor, with raised brows.
Monsieur Aminieux gasped loudly, while Madame Aminieux assumed the countenance of one on the verge of disappointed tears. James’s already raised eyebrows meanwhile, climbed even higher up his forehead, while Derek Lovell looked as though he were about to murder Eleanor.
‘Indeed,’ continued Eleanor, ‘I have a couple of people here who will tell us exactly where you have been. Do come in gentlemen,’ she shouted.
The Unaccomplished Lady Eleanor Page 21
