“I think I do not.”
“Well, there was little other choice.” Christian sat up straighter. “She was stranded at a gaming hell. She was hardly going to walk home through the dark streets of London. Or accept the escort of Vinson or Fortenbury. I could not allow her to do that, even if she wished it. What if they’d taken a liberty? Do you really wish to see her married off to either of them?”
“And I suppose I should like to see her married off to you?”
“Better me than those fools,” Christian said, his temper rising. “I did what was necessary—both for my conscience and as Lady Madeline’s friend.”
Winterson was silent as he watched his friend, his gaze assessing. Finally he said, “Interesting. I had no idea that was the direction of things.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Christian said sullenly. “There is no direction of things. I was simply behaving as a gentleman ought. I have little doubt you’d have done the same thing in my position.”
“Not if I wished to remain living,” Winterson said wryly. “I have little doubt that Cecily would avail herself of my pistol if she caught me escorting another lady home in a closed carriage. Cousin or not.”
His annoyance diffused by Winterson’s wry humor, Christian said, “Then you should be grateful it was me there last night and not you.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Winterson said. “How did Maddie endure her ordeal, do you think?”
Reflecting on her demeanor during their trip from the hell to Essex House, instead of recalling her trauma, Christian remembered what it had felt like to hold her in his arms and was disturbed by his body’s immediate response to the memory. Damn it, he’d better get himself together or else Winterson would suspect he’d done more than simply offer the girl a ride home. And that was all he’d done. And offered a shoulder to cry on. Which was what any gentleman would do in such circumstances. He had nothing to feel guilty about. Not a thing.
In answer to Winterson’s question, he said, “She was as strong as you’d expect. Though understandably upset by the experience, of course.” He did not speak of Maddie’s tears. That was something he knew she would wish to remain private. And he was unwilling to betray her trust in that way.
Changing the subject, Christian said, “Tinker’s death, coupled with Linton’s flight, makes it difficult to determine which of them was there to meet with the Citizen’s Society. It might have been one or both.”
“Linton’s departure certainly does make him look guilty,” Winterson said. “Especially when one considers that if they were both members of the society, Linton might have been instructed by his superiors to remove the other man.”
“But if he were going there with the express purpose of killing Tinker, would Linton have chosen to do so in a manner that would ensure his sister be the one to find his body?” Christian demanded. “My opinion of the fellow isn’t all that good, but I’m not quite sure I believe that he would do such a thing. I know Maddie certainly doesn’t.”
Winterson shrugged. “That’s to be expected.”
“True,” Christian said. “But it does make me wonder if Tinker’s death is even connected to the society.”
“What, you mean it was simply coincidence that Tinker was murdered on the same night you were expecting him to make contact with the society?”
Now it was Christian’s turn to shrug. “More or less. Simply because I was expecting there to be someone at Mrs. Bailey’s who is a member of the society doesn’t necessarily mean that they would be the ones to commit the murder. In fact, it seems uncharacteristic of them to waste their time and energy on such a killing when doing so would bring the attention of the government down upon them. More so than it is already, I mean.”
“The way I see it,” Winterson said, “is that no matter the motive for killing Tinker, your number one suspect is Lady Madeline’s brother. Which is going to wreak havoc upon your friendship with her.”
Unfortunately, Christian had to agree with his friend.
No matter whether Linton was guilty or not, Christian was in for a very uncomfortable few months.
* * *
Though exhausted, Maddie awoke at her usual time the next morning.
Checking with the butler at breakfast, she learned that her brother had not returned home the night before. Which was troubling, though he did from time to time stay with friends. She hoped that this was one of those occasions.
Of more immediate concern was the butler’s news that her mother wished to see her before she left for the day.
Her appetite gone, Maddie laid down her fork and knife, drank a final gulp of tea, and headed for the stairs and her mother’s small sitting-room-cum-office, where she managed the household business as well as her extensive social schedule. Lady Poppy Essex was as exacting as a general, and every bit as demanding. And though Maddie loved her mother, Poppy could be just the tiniest bit unforgiving when it came to her daughter’s social stature—or lack thereof.
Cecily’s stepmama, Violet, saw her lack of success as lamentable but not unexpected. Whereas Juliet’s mama, Rose, saw her daughter’s failure to take as something to celebrate, for reasons that Juliet had only recently become aware of. But it was Poppy who was the most displeased by her own daughter’s continued spot among the wallflowers. And though she told Maddie again and again that it wasn’t her fault, Maddie had long since come to understand that what Poppy meant was the exact opposite of what she said.
From Maddie’s earliest years, her mother had found her wanting. Maddie was too loud, too short, too rambunctious, too outspoken. She was scolded for mussing her hair, for dirtying her pinafore, for playing soldiers instead of dolls. In short, whatever Maddie did, her mother found something about it to correct.
Only in the past few months had the Countess of Essex seemed to come to the conclusion that despite her unrelenting urgings, Maddie was not interested in becoming a social success, and was indeed quite happy in her current position. To Maddie’s immense relief, her mother had chosen to leave her to her own devices.
Even so, it was with some trepidation that she climbed the stairs to her mother’s parlor-cum-office. It wasn’t that she feared her mother’s wrath. At this point in her life she’d come to understand that her mother’s scolds were less about Maddie herself, and more about her mother’s attempts to control her own environment. But still, a dressing-down was never pleasant, and if her mother had learned of Maddie’s adventure the evening before, then a dressing-down was exactly what she was in for. She might have decided to let Maddie remain unpopular, but she would hardly be pleased to hear she had risked her reputation in such an outrageous manner yesterday evening.
Squaring her shoulders as she stood before the door to her mother’s study, she knocked briskly on the door, and entered.
Seated behind her massive though elegantly turned desk, the Countess of Essex was as fresh and lovely as ever. Her golden hair was dressed simply in an elegant chignon, and her deep rose gown brought out the pink in her cheeks. Only in the last couple of years had there been any hint of gray in her blond tresses, but even with that mark of her age she was still as beautiful as Maddie could ever recall.
“Hello, darling,” the countess greeted her daughter. “Do sit down. Shall I ring for some tea?”
Answering her own question, Maddie’s mother rose and gave a tug on the bellpull. “I find I’m quite thirsty and it’s been quite a while since breakfast.”
When Maddie only nodded, her mother took her seat again. “I daresay you’ve only just had breakfast since you had a late night last evening.” The countess tilted her head and waited for her daughter to respond.
“Is that a question, Mama?” She had long since grown accustomed to her mother’s use of indirection to begin her scolds. It was one of the reasons she so favored plain speaking. After a lifetime of hints and suggestions, she craved direct communication.
“Oh, do not be difficult, Madeline,” Poppy said with a sigh, as if disappointed
that she hadn’t shocked her daughter. “It was merely an observation. Though now that you mention it, I did call you up here to discuss your visit to Mrs. Bailey’s gambling house last night. Really, darling, what were you thinking to go to such a place?”
Maddie did not bother asking where her mother had learned of her escapade. She had spies everywhere.
“It is hardly as if I went to a bona fide gaming hell, Mama,” she said reasonably. “And I went there with Linton. I don’t see you scolding him for going there.”
The countess pinched the bridge of her nose, as if warding off a headache. “We have been over this and over this, Madeline. There are some places where you will never, ever, be allowed to visit because of your sex. I know that your Mrs. Wollstonecraft, with her Vindication of the Rights of Woman, would disagree, but she is not your mother. Your cousins are able to see this fact, so I do not understand why it is so difficult for you to do so.”
Maddie did not bother protesting that Cecily and Juliet had done their share of visiting unacceptable establishments before they were wed. Her mother was incapable of seeing their behavior as questionable as Maddie’s.
“Oh, come, Mama, there were any number of ladies there last night, including, I might add, Lady Skelton, who I believe is a friend of yours.”
“Be that as it may, Maddie, you should not have gone there and you know it. What made you wish to go there in the first place?”
“I was doing research for my novel,” Maddie responded, preparing herself for derision. To her surprise, however, her mother seemed to brighten at the news.
“A novel?” she asked, her blue eyes wide with interest. “I was unaware that your interest in literature had moved from poetry to prose.”
“I have had some success with poetry so I thought—”
“You thought you would try your hand at novel writing,” her mother finished for her. “I think it’s the perfect story to put about for your visit to Mrs. Bailey’s. And if you plan to write about the evils of gambling so much the better.”
“But I wasn’t planning to—” Maddie began, only to be cut off by Poppy.
“No, no, don’t tell me what your plans are, dearest,” Poppy said with a smile. “I want to be as honest as possible when I’m questioned by the busybodies at the Marchford ball tonight. I’ll take care of everything. Your visit to Mrs. Bailey’s may make it into the gossip sheets, but by tonight all of the ton will know that your true reason for going there was in the interest of art. Anyone who has ever read a novel will be unable to condemn you. It’s perfect.”
“So, you aren’t annoyed with me for going to Mrs. Bailey’s?” Maddie asked, shocked.
“Oh, dearest.” Her mother shook her head. “Of course I am annoyed with you. Not only did you go to a gaming hell with your scapegrace brother, you also risked your reputation. Again. Annoyed is the least of what I feel.”
“But you aren’t going to punish me in some way?” Maddie looked suspiciously at her mother.
“I suspect that your encounter with that poor man, Mr. Tinker, was punishment enough.”
Maddie closed her eyes as the whole grisly experience came rushing back to her.
Unexpectedly, she felt her mother’s arms come around her. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, darling,” she said. “I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been. Please don’t put yourself in danger like that again. I couldn’t bear it if something awful were to happen to you.”
And for the first time in a long time, Maddie felt at peace with her mother.
A short while later, having donned a pelisse and hat and called for the carriage, Maddie arrived at Winterson House to find that Juliet was already there.
“Dearest,” Cecily said, wrapping Maddie in a warm embrace. “How are you? What an ordeal you had to endure last night.”
Accepting a hug from Juliet, and allowing a cup of tea to be pressed into her hand, Maddie asked, “So, how did you learn of it?”
“Winterson, of course,” Cecily said, reaching for a macaroon. “He had it from Gresham at White’s this morning.”
At the mention of Christian, Maddie felt herself color. “Oh,” she said, trying to remain nonchalant. “What did he have to say for himself?”
“Only that you were the one to find poor, stabbed John Tinker,” Juliet said, patting Maddie’s hand. “And that Linton ran away and left you to find your own way home.”
“If I see your brother any time soon,” Cecily said grimly, “I will give him a towering scold. Not only did he leave his dying friend behind, he abandoned you. That is not the behavior of a solicitous sibling.”
Cecily brushed the macaroon crumbs from her lap and rested her hands on her stomach. She was so newly enceinte that her condition had not yet begun to show, but Maddie had noticed that her cousin was often to be seen with her hands there. A pang of envy shot through her. Not that she begrudged Cecily her happiness. She definitely deserved it. And Juliet, who had endured a horrific injury and kept the secret of it for years at her mother’s behest, was utterly entitled to her wedded bliss with the handsome Lord Deveril. She was happy for both of her cousins.
But there were times when she wondered whether she, too, would ever find a man who would love her as her cousins’ husbands clearly loved them. Unbidden, she remembered what it had been like to be held against Gresham’s chest last night. How safe she had felt then. How protected. There had never been any suggestion that he would push her for more. But instead, she’d felt as if they were a team of two.
Was that what Cecily and Juliet felt with their husbands? What must it be like to share one’s burdens like that? She and her cousins had always been a team of sorts, struggling against the strictures that society placed upon them, and those members of the ton who found them wanting in some respect.
But since their marriages she had felt her cousins begin to pull away a bit. Which was to be expected, she knew. After all, they were part of their husband’s families now, not just their own. She could not deny the fact that she felt some sadness at their new situation, however.
Recalling herself to the conversation at hand, Maddie said, “No. You are correct. Linton was perfectly dreadful to leave me behind as he did last night. Especially given that one of his oldest friends was lying stabbed on the floor.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Juliet asked, biting into a ginger biscuit. “I know that Linton has been a bit of a hellion, but I have never known him to be so lost to propriety and brotherly concern before.”
“I must admit that I am disturbed by his disappearance, as well,” Maddie said. “He didn’t come home last night. It makes me wonder if there was more to Mr.Tinker’s death than a simple argument over gaming losses.”
Cecily paused, her voice gentle as she asked, “You don’t suppose that Linton…?”
Maddie felt her heart clench. She was disappointed in her brother, but she was not yet ready to assume him guilty of murder. Was she?
“I cannot imagine why he would,” she said aloud. “As far as I know James was not losing badly enough last night to make him wish to do such a thing to his friend. And they were playing at different tables anyway. He could hardly have lost money to Tinker if they weren’t playing with one another.”
“It might have been over something that happened at another time,” Juliet said glumly. “Perhaps your brother owed him from before.”
“It’s a possibility,” Maddie admitted. “And I am not so foolish as to believe that the authorities will look that carefully into their history together. The very fact that Tinker is dead and Linton is missing seems to indicate that he is responsible for his friend’s death.”
“I’m just glad you were unharmed,” Juliet said with a shudder. She, too, had come into close contact with a killer recently. “It would have been just as easy for whoever killed poor Mr. Tinker to harm you, as well. After all, you were close enough to hear what happened.”
“But I didn’t hear anything,” Maddie protested. “Or at l
east I don’t believe I did. I was too busy adjusting the bosom of my gown in the retiring room after what Gresh—That is to say, after a comment by another guest.”
“Gresham didn’t approve of your gown?” Cecily asked innocently.
“He thought it was too low cut.”
“That doesn’t sound like our Gresham,” Juliet said with a raised brow. “I have it on good authority from Alec that he is what is known among gentlemen as a brea—”
“As I was saying,” Maddie interrupted, before Juliet could continue with what promised to be a very alarming revelation about the earl. “I was too busy adjusting my gown to hear anything that happened in the hallway. So there is little danger that the killer will come after me. And I will tell anyone who asks the same thing.”
“That would be best,” Cecily said. “In fact, I will put it about this evening at the Marchfords’ ball. And you and Juliet will, too. You are both coming, are you not?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Juliet said with a grin. “I plan to dance a waltz with my husband.”
“And it would seem that I have a rumor to spread about myself,” Maddie said with a frown. She did so detest balls.
“Cheer up,” Cecily told her with a grin. “I hear Gresham will be in attendance, as well.”
That, of course, was what Lady Madeline was afraid of.
Five
After his conversation with Winterson, Christian made his way to the Gresham town house in Berkeley Square. He’d only lived there for a few weeks, and still had a bit of trouble realizing that it belonged to him.
He’d visited for family occasions before joining the army, but never with an eye toward inheriting the place himself. He still considered it a freak accident that his cousin had died before siring an heir who could have inherited the earldom.
Though he’d sent a note informing his mother of his intention to remove from his bachelor rooms at the Albany to the the Gresham town house, she had chosen to remain in Scotland where his two elder sisters and their husbands and families lived. Ever since his twin, Clarissa, had died while he was at war, the relationship between Christian and his mother had been conducted largely by post. And, to his regret, he preferred things that way. If he ever found himself in the same room with his mother again, he was unsure of how he would be able to keep from unleashing all the rage he felt over his sister’s loss.
How to Entice an Earl Page 5
