Only a Rogue Knows

by Rebecca Lovell

“Thank you, doctor.” Cordelia slipped the bottle into her handbag. “I’ll be sure and give them to her when I see her. She doesn’t listen to me any better than she’ll listen to you but I’m sure she’ll take these if she needs them.” She looked at Victor. “Where is it you think she’s off to?”

  “Follow me,” Victor sighed. He led her out the door and to the police station, where he held the door for her. As soon as he opened it she could hear Mrs. Richmond’s voice, sharp as ever.

  “No call to keep the staff up all night,” she said, anger plain in her voice. “Absolutely no call. It was rude, not to mention you frightened quite a lot of people.” They rounded the corner to find Mrs. Richmond standing in front of the police chief. She was leaning on a cane, which was new for her, but still had her finger in the chief’s face. It was something Cordelia had seen plenty of times as a child and she glanced over at Victor.

  “How did you know?”

  “She passed out while she was telling off one of the officers in the servants’ quarters,” Victor said, hands on his hips. “From what you and your sister have told me, I gathered the rudeness she referred to was probably something to do with the police.”

  “Mrs. Richmond,” Cordelia said, trying not to laugh. “What are you doing? You scared me half to death disappearing from the doctor’s like that.” The old woman turned to her, frowning.

  “Lady Whittemore, what are you doing here?” Cordelia was glad to hear she was back to herself enough to return to formality. It was a good sign.

  “Collecting you, it seems.” She looked at the police chief, who was studying her warily. “Thank you for your time, sir. We’ll be getting out of your way now.” She held an arm out to Mrs. Richmond for her to lean on, and her longtime companion gave her a withering look.

  “I can walk on my own.” She stumped past Cordelia with her cane, giving the police chief a look that clearly said she wasn’t finished with him. “Are we going back out to the estate? I expect there’s a lot to be taken care of. Did Bridget and General Ellison already return to Elston?”

  “They left just after the funeral this morning,” Cordelia said. “They didn’t know when you’d be ready to leave the doctor’s or they would have come.”

  “What a shame,” Mrs. Richmond said, and she sounded as if she really meant it. Cordelia wasn’t sure if she should be the one to tell their former governess about her sister’s pregnancy but she was spared having to make the decision when Mrs. Richmond looked at Victor. “May I ask why you’re walking around town in your mourning clothes with a single man?”

  “A lot has happened,” Cordelia said, her cheeks burning. There was no doubt about it, Mrs. Richmond was as sharp as she’d ever been. “I’ll explain it to you when we get back out to the estate.”

  “You most certainly will not,” Mrs. Richmond said, stopping in her tracks. “You’ll explain it now, or I shan’t take another step.” Cordelia’s face grew redder as she felt the police officers staring at her, and she lowered her voice.

  “Mrs. Richmond, please---“

  “Would you care to come to my office?” Victor interrupted her smoothly, and Cordelia could feel the charm coming off him. “It’s a bit more private and my assistant can make you some tea while we chat.” Mrs. Richmond sized him up with narrowed eyes and Cordelia held her breath, hoping she would agree.

  “All right,” she said, and Cordelia was awash with relief until Mrs. Richmond turned her critical eye on her. “This had better be exceptionally good, Lady Whittemore.” The officers were still watching them and Cordelia tried to laugh good-naturedly as she led Mrs. Richmond out of the station.

  Once they were in Victor’s office, she sat on the chair across from his desk and sighed. She somehow looked smaller to Cordelia than she had when she was a girl, and more frail in spite of her performance in the police station. Bradley brought her a cup of tea and she took a polite sip before setting it on Victor’s desk.

  “Well,” she said, looking between Victor and Cordelia. “You said you’d explain what’s going on here. Let’s hear it.”

  “The long and short of it is that the police have accused both myself and Cordelia of murdering Arthur,” Victor said, leaning on his desk. “After speaking at length with the General and Mrs. Ellison, the four of us have concluded that it was likely one of Arthur’s lovers that killed him but we have no idea of knowing which one.”

  “Which one?” Mrs. Richmond looked scandalized beyond anything Cordelia had ever seen. Even seeing her walking around town as indiscreetly as she was with Victor paled in comparison to what she had just been told. “Do you mean to tell me he was having affairs while you were in the house?”

  “Yes,” Cordelia said, looking at Victor for support. He motioned for her to continue and she opened her handbag and took out the vial of pills the doctor had given her. “Here. The doctor gave me these. If your chest starts hurting, put one under your tongue.” She handed them to Mrs. Richmond who gave her a suspicious look.

  “Why would I need these right now?”

  “Because Arthur wasn’t having affairs with other women,” Cordelia said. She took a deep breath. “He was having affairs with men.”

  “With men?” As expected, the color drained from Mrs. Richmond’s face. She looked to Victor for confirmation and he nodded. “For how long?”

  “Since before we were married,” Cordelia said. “I caught him at it and he made me promise not to tell anyone. In fact, I caught him at it just a few days before he was murdered. From what Victor had heard in the pubs, he had quite a few lovers so we don’t know who it could have been.”

  “Is that so, Victor?” The way she said Victor’s name was dangerous and Cordelia knew he could hear it too. Rather than back down the way Cordelia always had and Birdie never did, he simply became more charming than ever.

  “I’m afraid so. Though I’m certain you suspected something was going on,” he said, not bothering to address Cordelia’s familiarity. “You don’t strike me as the type to let anything happening in the manor slip past you.”

  “It did seem that something wasn’t right,” Mrs. Richmond said, a satisfied tone in her voice. “The spark I saw between General Ellison and Bridget was quite different from what I saw between the two of you.” She shook her head. “You should have had the marriage annulled. Now you’re a widow. That’s going to make things much more difficult when it comes to getting remarried.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Victor said, almost lazily. “I know a gentleman who would consider it a great honor to marry Cordelia.” He looked at her, his blue eyes serious above his rakish smirk. “If she would have him, that is.” When the meaning of his words hit her, Cordelia put a hand over her mouth. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing seemed appropriate, but she was saved from having to come up with something by Mrs. Richmond.

  “Yes, quite,” she said with a frown. From her lack of a reaction, Cordelia assumed she hadn’t heard what Victor had said and she leaned down.

  “Is something the matter?”

  “So that young man at the manor,” she said, still frowning, “he must have been one of the lovers you spoke of?” Cordelia looked at her curiously and she curled her hands around her cane. “I saw a young man at the manor the day Cordelia and Lord Whittemore argued and she went down to Greenley in a terrible temper. I assumed he was a friend of Lord Whittemore when I saw him at the party as well. It seemed odd that he was leaving right at the beginning of the party.”

  “At the beginning?” Victor looked at Cordelia, who tried to remember if she’d seen anyone leaving. “As a matter of fact, there was a young man who almost knocked me down the stairs when I was on my way in. He seemed in a hurry to leave. I’m afraid I don’t remember what he looked like,” she said, then looked from Mrs. Richmond to Victor.

  “Vaguely,” Mrs. Richmond said. “Slender, with sort of dark blonde hair. And I believe he had a birthmark,” Mrs. Richmond said. “Just below his eye. I remember thinking its placement
was rather unfortunate. It made him look very feminine.”

  “I don’t even remember that much,” Cordelia said with a sigh. She shook her head and Victor folded his arms over his chest.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” he said. Cordelia went to him and put a hand on his arm.

  “We’ve got more to go on now,” she said gently. “The police will have to believe us. As much as I didn’t wish to bring Arthur’s preferences into the public eye, it seems it’s the only way to keep the both of us out of jail.” With a smile, Victor put a hand on her waist lightly and pulled her closer. It felt good to be near him again and if it hadn’t been for a small, disapproving sound from Mrs. Richmond behind her it would have been perfect.

  “Please remember where you are, Cordelia,” she said coolly, and as tiring as it was to have Mrs. Richmond constantly reminding her that she was being improper, it was good to hear her sounding like her old self. “You are also supposed to be in mourning. This sort of behavior simply will not do.”

  “Excuse me,” a soft voice said from the door. “Mr. Pembroke?”

  “Yes, Miss Wright?” He took his hand off Cordelia’s hip as the door swung open and a pretty young woman with dark blonde curls looked in. She was slender and looked as if she could be nobility herself, but if she had she probably wouldn’t have been working in a solicitor’s office.

  “A telegram was just delivered for you from Judge Perkins in London.” She stepped into the room and held out the letter to him. Victor took it and nodded to her.

  “Thank you. Where’s Bradley?”

  “I believe he went down to the bakery,” Miss Wright said. “He said something about wanting to get a certain kind of biscuit they were only selling today and that he would be right back.” She looked around the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’ll leave you to your meeting.”

  “One moment, young lady.” Mrs. Richmond was frowning at the girl and Cordelia wasn’t sure if it was because she disapproved of her working for a single man, or one of the hundreds of other reasons the old woman could find to be critical. She came closer to Miss Wright, leaning on her cane. “You look very familiar to me.”

  “Do I?” Miss Wright looked confused. “I don’t believe we’ve met before today.”

  “Have you a sister? Or perhaps a brother?”

  “As a matter of fact I do have a brother,” Miss Wright said with a nod. “He’s my twin brother, actually. Ten minutes younger than me.” Mrs. Richmond got even closer and the younger woman looked uncomfortable. “Why?”

  “You have a birthmark,” Mrs. Richmond said. “Right underneath your eye. Does your brother have one as well?”

  “He does.” Now Miss Wright sounded cautious, and Cordelia looked at the girl as well. They weren’t the same but if she put aside their gender, she could certainly see that Miss Wright looked very much like the young man she had walked in on with Arthur during their last argument. “Why are you asking? Has Samuel done something wrong?”

  “Why would you ask that?” Victor’s tone was conversational but Cordelia could hear a deliberateness to it. He obviously didn’t want to frighten the girl away from talking to them but they needed the information. “Has he been in trouble before?”

  “Yes,” Miss Wright said, sounding defeated. “He’s always getting in trouble. I took this job to help support Mother during her illness but it seems that I’ve ended up supporting him as well. He loses money gambling, he gets into fights in bars, and every time there’s a fine to be paid it comes out of my pocket.” She sighed. “I feel obligated because he’s my brother but there’s a limit to what I can do for him. What has he done this time?”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Victor said. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention this discussion to him, though. I may need to speak to him and I don’t want him coming in here with his mind made up.” Miss Wright nodded.

  “Of course, Mr. Pembroke.” She left the office and closed the door, and Victor sighed.

  “This just gets better and better.”

  “Come along, Mrs. Richmond,” Cordelia said, taking the old woman’s arm. “That’s quite enough excitement for your first afternoon out of the doctor’s.”

  “I think I’ve had enough excitement to last me the rest of my life,” she muttered. “Take me home, Cordelia. I’d like to sleep in my own bed tonight.” She cut her eyes toward Victor. “I suppose you’ll be coming along with us?”

  “I have some things I need to take care of here,” he said, shaking his head. “This could get extremely ugly and I want to make sure everyone, including Miss Wright, is protected as best I can. I’ll be along this evening.” He looked at Mrs. Richmond. “If that’s all right with you, ma’am.”

  “Just so long as you’re discreet about it,” she said crossly, not looking at him as she made her way across the room with her cane. Cordelia trailed after her just in case she looked like she might fall but the old woman moved more quickly than she had expected. “Honestly, Cordelia, all the time I spent raising you, you’d think you’d have learned by now how to act like a lady.” She continued to nag as Cordelia looked back at Victor helplessly. He shrugged, looking like he was about to start laughing, then sat down at his desk and opened the envelope Miss Wright had given him.

  “Our carriage is just outside,” Cordelia said.

  “You’re lucky Mr. Pembroke is your solicitor,” Mrs. Richmond said. “Otherwise there would be even more talk about your impropriety than I’m sure there already is.” Bradley came through the front door as she was talking and she looked over at him. “Young man!” Her tone of voice suggested that he was in trouble and Bradley looked guiltily at her. “Our carriage is outside, go out and fetch our driver.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Bradley said with a nod. He put the wrapped package in his hands on Miss Wright’s desk and hurried back out the door.

  “You see, Cordelia? That’s how you handle these matters. You’re a widow in mourning, you shouldn’t even be out of the house without an escort.” Cordelia opened her mouth and Mrs. Richmond shook her head. “Your Mr. Pembroke does not count. It’s as if you and Bridget are still girls, trying to drive me to an early grave.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Cordelia said absently. Since becoming an adult Cordelia had learned the best way to deal with Mrs. Richmond was to be as polite as possible and pay as little attention as she could get away with.

  While Mrs. Richmond gave Cordelia a lecture on exactly how she should behave as a widow, Cordelia’s mind wandered back to how Victor had held her before they left the estate. He hadn’t even kissed her and she’d felt as if he was claiming her all the same. It made her as happy as it excited her, and the feeling was strange but entirely welcome.

  It had always felt like there was a wall between her and Arthur, even when they’d first met, and she had just assumed that was what being married was supposed to be like. Now that she had fallen in love with Victor, she knew that this was what it was supposed to be like. She wasn’t sure if Victor had been serious when he was talking about marriage or just trying to placate Mrs. Richmond, and there was no way for her to ask if he meant it until she saw him later. The odds that they would get to be alone together were slim with Mrs. Richmond back in the house but Cordelia supposed she would just have to get creative.

  I suppose I am getting to be a bit more like Birdie, she thought as she nodded in what she hoped was the right place in Mrs. Richmond’s admonishments. That’s not altogether a bad thing, I don’t think.

  Twenty

  The next morning Victor woke up not in the Whittemore estate as he had every morning since Arthur was killed, but in his own house. In spite of their repeated promises that they would sleep in separate rooms, Mrs. Richmond had put her foot down and told Victor to go home. Not wanting to get off on the wrong foot with her so quickly, he’d kissed Cordelia while she wasn’t looking and promised to see her the next evening.

  It was a strange thing, caring what someone else thought of him so much. As Corde
lia said, however, it didn’t seem like the old woman would be going anywhere anytime soon and the last thing he needed was for her to fight tooth and nail against their relationship. He’d never had such concerns before, and part of him lamented the knowledge that his life was never going to be the same. On the other hand, he would have Cordelia.

  He was still thinking this over when he walked into his office and hung his jacket on the coat rack. Bradley came in with a cup of tea and a small plate of biscuits, and Victor raised his eyebrow as Bradley set them both in front of him.

  “What on Earth is this?”

  “Those biscuits I bought yesterday. I’d hoped to give some to Lady Whittemore’s grandmother,” he said. “She left before she had any and I didn’t want them to go to waste.”

  “She’s not Cordelia’s grandmother,” Victor said, picking up one of the biscuits. It had a light purple frosting with a candied violet on the top. “Good work, Bradley. You’ve discovered the single most girlish biscuit in all of England.”

  “I was buying them for women,” Bradley said, nettled. “I didn’t expect us to have to eat them.” Behind him, the door opened and Cordelia came through. She was wearing a different black dress today and Victor was already looking forward to seeing her in something more vibrant. Perhaps he would buy her something striking in red. Her sister had looked lovely in the color, and as they were so similar he had no doubt Cordelia would look even more beautiful.

  “Perfect timing, my darling,” Victor said, standing up with a grin. “Do you like candied violets?”

  “Well yes,” Cordelia said, looking a little confused. “They’re quite nice. Why do you ask?” Victor held the plate out to her and she blinked at it. “Is that one of Thonberry’s biscuits?”

  “As a matter of fact it is,” Bradley said, giving Victor a meaningful look. “Do you like them, Lady Whittemore? I bought several.”

  “I’ve never had one,” Cordelia said. “I was never able to send someone in time to get them before they were sold out. I’d love to try one.” She took one of the biscuits off the plate and took a small bite. “They’re wonderful,” she said with a smile. “The lavender really comes through. I don’t wish to be rude, but may I have some tea to go with them?”