by May Burnett
“You warned me that such a thing might happen,” he reminded her. “What are your intentions, my lady? Is it to be a real betrothal, with a marriage at its end, or only a subterfuge till the talk has died down?”
“What would you wish?” She regarded him with an anxious expression. “That day in the gardens you gave me to understand that you would not mind …that only the disparity of our birth and fortune stood between us. Is that how you still feel? Are you attracted to me at all?”
“You know that I am.” He took her hand in his. “I could ask for nothing more than to be your husband, and now you have publicly announced our betrothal, I cannot help hoping that you mean it. But the obstacles are very real, beginning with the fact that I am wanted for a crime.”
“There are always obstacles of some kind in life,” she pointed out. “An entirely effortless existence might soon become boring and stale. I do mean to marry you, Captain, if you truly desire me. Ever since I put my hair up and was presented to society, my greatest fear has been to fall prey to the blandishments of some heartless fortune hunter, to be desperately in love when all he wanted was my money or pedigree. I believe you are not like that, that you truly care for me as a person, rather than for my fortune.”
“Care is far too weak a word,” he protested. “For days now, I have been on the verge of falling in love, but I held myself back for fear of ultimate disappointment. Are you telling me I need no longer do so, that you would welcome my affection? My love?”
She nodded shyly. ”Never doubt it, dear Captain.”
“Duncan,” he growled, catching her in his arms. “Say my name, love.”
“Duncan,” she repeated breathlessly, staring up into his eyes. Her dark pupils were huge in the dim light.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned. In answer, she put her arms around him with surprising strength, as far as she reached, and invitingly angled her face.
The next moment their lips touched, and he showed her, with blatant carnality, that indeed he desired her body. Her small breasts were plastered against his chest, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart.
When they came up for air, she looked close to fainting, and his breath was ragged. He sat on a convenient settee and pulled Monique onto his lap, where she fit very nicely indeed.
After a few moments of silence, he said, “You have made me the happiest of mortals, sweetheart, but I am still worried you will eventually regret your decision.”
“If I ever do, remind me that I could have married the Duc de Manteil instead.”
“Who? And how would that have been worse?”
“He is the man I suspected of those attacks on us. Alain courted me when I was barely eighteen, a handsome and dashing young nobleman, rich as Croesus. In other words, exactly the kind of man all the world expected me to wed. I was flattered and a tiny bit infatuated, but my father put him off until I was older. Before long Alain turned to one of my closest friends and married her instead, after a whirlwind courtship, and within the year gave her a fatal disease. Poor Renée was dead and buried before she turned twenty. It could so easily have been me.”
“What a gruesome tale.” Was she warning him against infidelity? Duncan had no intention of playing Monique false, if she consented to be his wife. “You will never have to fear anything like that.”
“I know. It goes to show that you can never know beforehand which path will lead to good fortune, or to tragedy. We have to forge our own happiness, and it shall not be my fault if we fail to find it.”
“Nor mine,” he vowed, kissing her again with all the passion his incredibly sweet and wise beloved deserved. And she answered in kind, with a heat that told him that despite all doubts and obstacles, they could make this work.
Chapter 28
Roger was washing and shaving while Belling delivered his report early the next morning.
“There is no word, no rumour of any theft or peculation in the regiment, Sir. I could not be too direct in my questions, obviously, but the news has not leaked to the good dozen sergeants and privates I talked to last night.”
“That accords with my own conclusions.” Roger dabbed leftover soapsuds from his chin.
“Captain Kinninmont, on the other hand … everyone is convinced that the man has unnatural tastes, although I could not find anyone with first-hand knowledge.” He had been brushing Rogers’s hat, but stopped in uncharacteristic hesitation. “I hope there is no truth in it, Sir, but can we be sure?”
“I would bet ten to one that it’s all invention,” Roger said firmly. “Don’t you go and believe those lies. I did not get that sense from the Captain at all, and though he hid it, he is romantically interested in a young lady.” He was careful not to name Monique. The walls might have ears.
“That’s all right then,” the valet said, relieved. “It did seem suspicious that the rumours started all at once just a few weeks ago, and nobody had any notion of such a thing ever before. But the accusation of robbery, strangely enough, is not widely known.”
“Yes, that is what I also found. Of his fellow officers, only one ensign had heard of the matter. But after last night it will be all over town.” He wiped the razor and washed the brush in cold water, set it to dry. “Perhaps this new slander was not so widely disseminated, because it was less believable. The officers were sceptical that Kinninmont would do something so very stupid.”
“I did find out that the order to arrest the Captain was signed by one Mr. Oliver Rallis, who is Justice of the Peace to the northwest of here, in the village of Mallingham.”
“That is very useful – well done,” Roger said. “I suppose I had better call on Mr. Rallis before much more time has elapsed. How far from Portsmouth is this village?”
“Some two hours by carriage, I understand.”
“Then have my curricle readied, we’ll go there to interview the fellow as soon as I’ve broken my fast. Take your pistol, just in case, and I’ll do the same.”
Belling nodded. “You have a feeling that there might be danger, Sir? I did not receive that impression from the soldiers I talked to, myself. All perfectly respectable and harmless.”
“It only takes one villain, and I don’t suppose he is a mere sergeant.”
***
Mallingham proved to be a sleepy place of perhaps seven hundred souls. The residence of Mr. Rallis, about a mile from its centre, was a well-preserved manor overlooking a softly undulating landscape of fields and meadows, with the occasional stand of trees breaking the silhouette.
Roger drew up in front of the pale yellow house, with dark green window slats and doors. From the nearby stables equine and bovine noises emerged, and the air held the unmistakeable tang of a pigsty. Belling took the reins as Roger climbed down and approached the main door. A manservant in dark homespun opened it before he could use the knocker.
“Is Mr. Rallis at home?” He handed the servant a card from his silver card-case. “I wish to talk to him on a business matter of some importance.”
“Please wait here, Sir,” the servant said respectfully, leading him to a room sparsely furnished with two cherry wood chairs and a matching writing table. The thin carpet only covered a third of the wooden floor.
Roger possessed himself of patience. Would this justice prove to be a dupe, or a co-conspirator? It had to be one or the other, as Roger put implicit trust in Monique’s testimony.
Within five minutes, a smiling, brown-haired lady appeared and made herself known as Mrs. Rallis. “My husband is out riding, but should be back any moment,” she told him. “Please join me in the morning room until his return. Would you care for tea, or hot chocolate?”
“Tea would be welcome,” Roger said, bowing. “I appreciate your hospitality, Ma’am, but I came to discuss a legal matter with your husband, as he is the local justice of the peace. There is no need for you to interrupt your usual activities on my behalf.”
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Ellsworthy. We do not see many fashionable strangers in
this rural place. Is your legal matter of confidential nature?”
He followed her to another, more comfortable room. “Not particularly,” he said after a moment’s thought, as he accepted the seat she indicated, a sturdy upholstered armchair. “It concerns an order of arrest for a gentleman of my acquaintance, who is accused of having robbed a coach in your district on the night of May 19th. Do you know anything about this crime? Surely it would have been thoroughly discussed by local society. Who was the victim?”
Before answering, Mrs. Rallis rang the bell and gave orders for tea and refreshments. “Indeed,” she said when the parlour maid had left, “in the normal order of things such a crime would be widely discussed, since Mallingham is one of the safest places in the whole country. But as far as I am aware, the charge was laid by strangers passing through, and nobody local was either among the witnesses or the victims. With so little information, gossip never had much fodder to grow.”
That was promising news. Roger judged the lady, who was in her forties, to be innocent of any guilty knowledge. He pressed on. “I am particularly interested in the identification of the perpetrator. The officer accused of this crime can prove that he was in Oxfordshire during the night in question, and has several witnesses to that fact. He is a friend of mine, and I came here to find out who has so maligned him, set the matter straight, and call them to account if possible. Obviously it would be best if they were to recant before his reputation is ruined by an arrest over a mistaken accusation.” He omitted to mention that Kinninmont had already suffered the ignominy of such an arrest.
Mrs. Rallis stared at him. “If that is so – but how terrible! My husband would not have fingered any man without being sure of his facts, Mr. Ellsworthy.”
“I do not for a moment question that Mr. Rallis was acting in best conscience,” Roger said soothingly, though he harboured grave doubts on the matter. “If a mistake has been made, then it must be laid to the door of the accusers or witnesses, whoever they are. Is it not strange and unusual that the victims of a robbery should be able to identify the culprit so unerringly? When neither of the parties concerned is native to this area?”
“It does seem quite a coincidence,” Mrs. Rallis conceded. “I have not spoken to anyone directly concerned, so I can have no personal opinion on the matter. My husband will be able to tell you more. If indeed the identification was mistaken, I hope the matter can be cleared up without repercussions.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.” Their conversation was interrupted while the maid carried in a tray with tea, cups, and four different kinds of cake. His hostess turned the conversation to London society, and looked gratified at receiving first-hand details of some of the more notable events of recent months. “You have spoken to her Majesty yourself?” she asked, visibly impressed.
Roger smiled. “On several occasions. The first time she was still a Royal Highness and only fourteen years old. The Princess and her mother, the Duchess of Kent, visited Amberley, my uncle’s principal seat, while I was staying there during the school holidays.”
“Your uncle is…?”
“He’s an Earl, Lord Amberley, my father’s older brother. I am fond of my cousins, and often stay with the family.”
“Ah.” From the way she looked at him, this titbit would soon be relayed to all her neighbours. “How very interesting. Then your cousins would also be titled?”
“Mere courtesy titles. The older is Lady Verena Ellsworthy, and the younger Lady Amelia, or Amy, as we call her. She’s not out yet, and impatiently awaiting her presentation to society.”
While he was describing Lady Verena’s presentation at court, Mr. Rallis joined them at last, reeking of horse. His wife made no remark; no doubt she was used to this circumstance. Rallis was in his fifties, portly and high-complexioned. Mrs. Rallis introduced Roger, mentioning his noble connections almost in the same breath.
Rallis sat down at his wife’s side and accepted a cup of tea with two pieces of sugar. Before Roger could explain his errand, Mrs. Rallis proceeded to do so. Roger watched the justice’s face. He could not detect any particular worry or guilt, but then some people gave very little away.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Rallis, that you should have had to involve yourself in this affair,” Roger said when the lady stopped speaking, and her husband seemed to be thinking the matter over.
“It is quite the most interesting thing that has happened here in a twelvemonth,” she said. “Who were those people who charged Captain Kinninmont with the robbery, Oliver? Do you know them personally?”
“One of them,” Rallis said, a little reluctantly, it seemed to Roger. “An officer from the infantry regiment stationed in Portsmouth. That is how he had recognised Kinninmont, because they served together.”
“What is his name? And did he explain what he was doing in our neighbourhood?” Mrs. Rallis asked, the exact questions Roger would have put had she given him the chance.
“A Captain Dorrington. I met him about a year ago, in Melmsham, where he was staying with friends. He did not say why he was travelling through here.”
“And who else was in the carriage? Was anyone hurt, and what was stolen? You never told me any details,” his better half complained.
“Another officer, a Lieutenant Meller. They chased the attacker off with their dress swords. Nothing was stolen and nobody got hurt.”
Mrs. Rallis looked surprised and almost disappointed at this intelligence.
“I have reason to believe that there is bad blood between Captain Dorrington and Captain Kinninmont, concerning a quite different matter,” Roger told the older man. “Moreover, Captain Kinninmont has several witnesses who can attest that he spent the night in question far from here. Will you take my word for it, or do I need to hunt up affidavits?”
“If nothing was stolen and nobody got hurt, would it not have been better to hear what this Captain Kinninmont had to say for himself before ordering his arrest?” Mrs. Rallis asked. Roger appreciated her candour. So many wives would have hesitated to criticize their husbands, even implicitly.
The justice scowled. “I was told he had fled from Portsmouth in the dead of night, and nobody knew where he was. That he was supposed to be out of his senses.”
“By Captain Dorrington, I surmise?” Roger said. “I suspect Dorrington presumed on his acquaintance with you, a justice of the peace, to do a bad turn to a fellow officer. Captain Kinninmont has not absconded. He duly informed his colonel that he was selling out, and left quite openly. He is staying at this moment as a guest with the Countess and Earl at Amberley.”
“He is?” Mrs. Rallis exclaimed in surprise. “That does not sound like a felon or robber to me, Oliver.”
Something was bothering the justice, but he clearly did not want to discuss whatever it was in the presence of his spouse. “Are you quite certain that this Captain Kinninmont was elsewhere in the night in question?” he said at last.
“Perfectly. His travel companion during the time in question is a person I have known all my life, who is the soul of honesty. They spent the night at a farmhouse in Oxfordshire, where the entire family and all the servants must have seen him. I urge you to revoke the arrest order, Mr. Rallis, until you have investigated the motives behind this villainous accusation.”
“I cannot believe that two officers of Her Majesty’s army would give false testimony,” the justice maintained. “That is not the act of an officer and gentleman.”
“Captain Kinninmont is also an officer,” Roger argued. “Whoever is truthful, at least one officer has brought dishonour on his regiment.”
“Elijah will not be happy at that, a most unfortunate affair,” Mrs. Rallis said, shaking her head. “Come, Oliver, it is clear that you acted without hearing the other side of the story. I for one am ready to believe that it is all some military intrigue, with which we should not involve ourselves. If this Captain Kinninmont has even an ounce of sense, he would never attempt to rob a coach in which two of his fellow officers were travelling. So
ldiers are not wealthy enough to make it worthwhile, and can fight back. The story does not hold water, when you think about it.”
Roger smiled at her gratefully. He had a feeling that without her presence, the interview would have gone very differently. “When you mentioned Elijah just now, were you referring to Colonel Mossley by any chance? Do you know him well, Mrs. Rallis?”
“Why yes, he is my husband’s first cousin. We do not see him often out here, but Mr. Rallis always calls upon him when business brings him to Portsmouth.”
“I see.” Roger looked at the justice, whose expression had congealed at his wife’s innocent disclosure. “In that case, it should be easy enough to ascertain from your cousin how Captain Kinninmont came to leave the regiment, and why.”
Rallis was silent for a long moment. “And what is your role in this matter, Mr. Ellsworthy? What prompted you to interfere?”
“A desire to avoid a grave miscarriage of justice, Sir. I am not acting on my own behalf only. My uncle Amberley and my father, as well as my uncle by marriage Lord Pell are all taking a close interest in the matter. They may ask questions about it in the Lords, for there is more involved here than personal animosities. I cannot give details, but there is reason to believe that other crimes may have been committed. An official investigation is inevitable at this point.”
“You mean the Marquis of Pell?” Mrs. Rallis asked, her eyes sparkling with interest. “He is also your relative?”
Roger bowed to her. “Indeed. He is my aunt Lady Amberley’s younger brother.”
That detail, irrelevant as might be, turned the tide. Rallis grudgingly promised that the arrest order would be withdrawn in writing, that very day, and that everyone who had received the previous request would be informed. In exchange, Mrs. Rallis extracted a promise that Roger would write to tell them how everything came out. As he took his leave, she beamed at his compliments on her perspicacity and sense of fairness.
