“Hicks, sir.” The man halted and turned. He was in his forties, stout with graying ginger hair, clear brown eyes and a long, hawkish nose.
“May I ask how long you have been in Lady Janus’s service, Hicks?”
The butler coughed into his hand. “Just over one year, sir.”
“Being in your position allows for a certain awareness of the goings-on in the household….”
The man nodded, guardedness clouding his gaze.
“That knowledge stretches to Lord Beaumont as well?”
Hick’s eyes darted about. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Are you uncomfortable answering these questions, Hicks?”
“Yes, sir. A good butler must be discreet. But seeing as my lady has requested that all of the staff do your bidding to the fullest, I will answer you as best as I can.”
Nick hid his surprise. Lady Janus apparently understood the importance of his labors and was making an effort to ease them. “Any enemies of Lord Beaumont come to mind? Injured party seeking revenge, that sort of thing?”
“No, sir. To be quite honest with you, sir, Lord Beaumont is well liked.”
“Below stairs as well?”
Hicks stiffened, eyeing the empty hallway. “The staff likes him well enough. He’s not as good as some, and a whole lot better than others.”
“A bit of a prig.”
Hicks’s cheeks reddened. “I never said that.”
“No, I did. But ruffling someone’s feathers does not warrant a hanging.” Rubbing his chin, Nick asked, “Anyone to benefit from his absence? Anyone particularly fond of Lady Janus?”
“Lady Janus does not entertain other men, if that’s what you’re aiming at.”
“Not on her part but on someone else’s. Say, any flowers arrive from an admirer? Gifts?”
“No, sir. She is a fine lady, and a good employer as well. Wages are always paid on time without any of the haggling that oft goes on.”
“Who owns this house?”
“Duke of Greayston, sir. And it’s a good thing.”
“Why do you say that?”
“His Grace and Lord Beaumont’s younger brother, Lord Russell Mayburn, regard Lady Janus well. They’ll watch out for her.”
“You believe that Beaumont will not be back?”
Hicks shrugged. “If you’re to trust the papers, he’s already hung.”
“You don’t think that Greayston will turn her out?”
Hicks’s eyelids flickered. “I did not suppose so….”
“When was the last time someone gave you a house in Mayfair out of the goodness of their heart?”
The butler stiffened.
“If I do my job, Hicks, then hopefully no one will need to find out how well the Duke of Greayston regards Lady Janus,” Nick remarked, scratching his chin. “Any changes in the comings and goings since Beaumont’s arrest?”
“Well, Lady Janus spends most days at the prison now. Lord Russell usually comes to check on her in the evenings.” He shrugged. “He tends to leave about nine. The maids say that she’s exhausted these days and can hardly keep awake past ten.” He scowled. “She’s so quiet, one could hardly believe that it’s actually the Season. Last year at this time it was balls until dawn, rounds of social calls, picnics, riding in the park—”
“Is there anything more you believe would be helpful for me to know?” Nick interrupted. He knew all about High Society’s diversions and did not need a recitation. “Or anyone else I might wish to speak with?”
Licking his lips, Hicks shook his head in the negative. “It’s a good position here, sir. Better than most I’ve ever held. I’m hoping not to have to leave it.”
“I’m not sure what will happen, Hicks. All I know is that I am going to do my duty to see Lord Beaumont freed. The rest is none of my affair.”
“Very well then.” Hicks nodded. “Shall I take you to Lady Janus?”
“Yes, please.”
Nick followed the butler down the steps into the garden. The narrow path was lined with rosebushes, the pink buds peeking out from emerald leaves. From his years helping tend Headmaster Dunn’s garden, Nick knew the roses were soon to bloom. But the heady scent was not yet evident in the garden; only pine and damp marked the air. The moss sank deeply with his every step, masking the sound of his footfalls as they trod toward the rear of the garden.
Hicks’s steps slowed as they neared a large oak tree. He stopped and motioned for Nick to proceed.
Lady Janus’s voice filtered through the greenery, “I love you dearly, Jack, but I cannot countenance this behavior any longer.”
Jack? The lady had a paramour?
Nick shot Hicks a questioning look.
The man grimaced as if he were embarrassed.
Devil take Lady Janus and her household of liars! Was everything about her a falsehood and everyone around her embroiled in chicanery? Disgust rose in Nick’s gut. Had he been a cat’s paw of the first order? A dupe for her dastardly tricks? He pushed past the butler and stepped quickly around the oak, fairly stomping over the gnarled roots.
He stopped short. Lady Janus was alone amid the foliage.
Spying him, she frowned. And was that a flash of guilt coloring her creamy cheeks?
“Where is he?”
She blinked with an artificial innocence an actress could study. “Who?”
“Show yourself, you bastard!”
Lady Janus turned to her butler. “Who is he talking to?”
Hicks lifted his shoulders.
Scanning the garden, Nick saw that the walls were a head taller than him and the spiked iron gate was closed. So the spineless scum was probably hiding behind a tree. Nick hardly cared any longer. The focus of his ire stood before him, the black widow of this web.
“You can stop acting now,” Nick charged. “I’ve had enough of your bloody schemes. Someone else can be your chump.”
“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?” Lily white hands set on rounded hips; she played the affronted dame to perfection.
“Pretend all you like, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to help you or your lovers.”
Artful azure eyes widened. “But you’ve accepted Dillon’s case. You cannot desert him now.”
“I was duped into taking the matter under falsehoods. I will not help your reprehensible marquis.”
“You cannot quit!” she cried, stepping forward.
“Watch me.” He turned and marched toward the rear entry. “You and your lover Jack can try to save Beaumont yourselves or do whatever the hell else you do. I don’t care.”
“Jack?” Lady Janus gasped.
He opened the spiked iron gate, eager to get away from the witch. This is the last time I’m going to be taken in by a pretty face and a curvaceous bottom, he swore. From now on, all facts, no figures.
She rushed forward, her hands raised in mock surrender. “I confess, Mr. Redford! You found me out.”
He stopped. “So you admit it?”
“Jack is here in the garden. Pray, let me call him, and you will understand.”
“I have no patience left for your trickery—”
“I swear to you on my mother’s grave, sir, that I have no tricks left. I exhausted my allowance of them last night.” Turning quickly, she cupped her hands around her mouth, calling, “Jack! Jack sweet-ling!”
He huffed at the endearment. Jack had to be a dandified pup to respond to that summons.
“Jack, darling!”
A cat with shiny black-and-white fur meowed and stepped out from under a shrub. Lady Janus crouched down and opened her arms. The cat jumped into her lap. The lady stood, cradling the large feline.
“Mr. Redford, may I introduce Jack.”
“That’s Jack?” he scoffed. “The one you cannot countenance any longer?”
She nodded toward the green pallet on the ground nearby. “This naughty boy has been misbehaving again.”
Hicks stepped over to the pallet and lifte
d it up with two gloved fingers, making a face of disgust. “I’ll have Miss Lonnie wash it yet again, my lady.”
“Thank you, Hicks.”
“And I will ask Cook to prepare a repast,” the butler offered quickly. Hicks nodded to Nick. “Mr. Redford, at least, will be needing refreshment.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Her sky blue eyes locked with Nick’s, and he saw the challenge within. “Will you be staying?”
Nick scowled, starting to feel idiotic, but not quite believing it. “That’s Jack?”
“Yes, the king of the jungle in these parts.”
His eyes slowly scanned the yard. Many more shapes moved about, stalking, sleeping and cleaning themselves. It was a veritable garden of felines.
“All of these cats belong to you?”
“Actually, none of them are mine. They just visit me now and again.”
Noting the plates set about in the grass, he realized, “Of course they do. You feed them.” He unfurled his hands and rubbed his eyes, feeling the veritable fool. “So there’s no lover hiding in the bushes.”
“Only if she’s yours.”
Bloody hell. He was not usually one to misjudge on scant evidence. He must be more exhausted than he thought. And, he had to admit, there was something about Lady Janus that touched a nerve.
Peering at her, he wondered how to undo the damage he had done. To his chagrin, her lips were bowing up, but she was trying to conceal her smile in the cat’s fur.
“It’s not funny,” he insisted, realizing that it was. His own lips lifted, but he forced them down. “It’s not amusing in the least.”
Hicks rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, carrying the offensive pallet far away from him. “I’ll tell Cook that two will be dining.”
Lady Janus grinned at Nick. “It’s hilarious. You thought that Jack was my lover!”
“I heard you speaking to a Jack, and, well, I jumped to conclusions,” he replied halfheartedly, amazed at his folly.
Her sparkling eyes wrinkled at the corners. “I’ve been accused of many things in my lifetime, but cavorting with a feline…well, that is a first.”
Suddenly the absurdity of the situation burst full bloom upon him, and a guffaw erupted from his throat.
Lady Janus chuckled, holding her hand to her belly. “Oh, my, it feels good to laugh.”
He realized that he had to agree. Something inside him had loosened, and he felt better. Had it been so long? He could not recall the last time that he had had a good laugh, and at himself, no less. He grimaced. “I owe you an apology, my lady. I must be more tired than I thought.”
Her smile vanished, and he was unexpectedly sad to see it go.
Looking down, her strawberry curls fell in front of her face as she dropped the cat. Jack sauntered off, his nose and tail raised high in the air.
“I do not know what ill effects you might be suffering from that tonic…,” she murmured, biting her lower lip.
“Miss Figbottom’s doing, I presume?”
“Fanny bought it from an alchemist.” She kicked at a rock, not meeting his eye. “He said that you might have a headache but should be fine.”
“No headache. I’m just suffering from a case of acute embarrassment.”
Looking up, she grasped her hands before her in supplication. “I am the one who is shamed, Mr. Redford. It was ill done of me and Fanny, no matter our intentions.”
Intentions. He was reminded of his formidable task here today. Now he felt even more compelled to see it through. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, that is something we need to address before we can proceed with the investigation.”
“I suppose it was too much to hope that we could forget the whole incident?” Her blue eyes pleaded.
He was tempted to forget it himself. But he knew that it would not do. “It would just leave us at sixes and sevens.”
“I assure you, I am not confused.”
“Look, we must work together to see Beaumont free. So we had best clear the air as soon as possible.”
Lillian nodded and straightened her back, as if bracing herself for an onslaught. “As you will.”
Nick suddenly realized that he had no idea how to broach the subject. Taking a deep breath, the words tumbled from his mouth, “I, well, I need to know…well, if you might be expecting an offer of marriage.”
She gasped, shock shimmering in her gaze.
“From your expression, am I to understand that you do not anticipate such an offer?”
She blinked. “This is the last thing in the world I ever expected from you,” she stated breathlessly.
“Why?” he asked irritably. Did she think him such a boorish cur?
“What compels you to ask?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
He shifted his shoulders; this was probably one of the most difficult conversations of his life. “In my book, when a man lies with an innocent lady, then he has to live with the consequences.”
“Is this some sort of prank? Are you trying to get back at me?”
“I don’t jest about matrimony,” he grumbled.
“But what happened…was not exactly a typical debauching.”
“You were innocent a few hours ago, and no matter how it happened, I was the one who…well, ended that condition.”
“It’s not an illness.”
“Of course not.” Bloody hell, if this wasn’t turning out to be nearly as bad as being drugged and trussed.
Crossing her arms, she raised a perfectly arched brow. “And what makes you believe that I might be interested in a proposal of marriage from you?”
“Under the circumstances…”
“There are no circumstances that would induce me to marry, Mr. Redford. To you or any other man.”
He was a bit surprised by the vehemence in her voice. And even though he was relieved, he was also just a little irritated to be dismissed so lightly. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”
Exhaling loudly, she shook her head. “I appreciate your consideration, Mr. Redford. But please understand that I have no intention of ever marrying. Am I clear?”
“Abundantly.”
Awkward silence stretched long between them. The leaves rustled in the trees, and a cat shrieked somewhere in the garden.
Lady Janus bit her lip. “Given that we are speaking plainly, Mr. Redford, there is another point I wish to settle.” She swallowed. “Since we are going to be working together…I must make it perfectly clear…that well, there will be nothing untoward between us.”
What? Did she think that he was going to jump her bones at the first opportunity? That he was a beast in heat, slobbering for a taste of her wiles? He was not nearly that desperate.
“I do not mix business with pleasure, my lady,” he bit out. “I have no problem containing myself.”
Her peaches-and-cream cheeks flamed red as she obviously recalled her passionate cries of the night before. It was answer enough.
He laid his hand over his heart. “Rest assured I would not touch you if King George himself ordered me to. If Napoleon’s army—”
“Your assurance is most reassuring,” she interrupted, pique making her eyes flash.
“Excellent. Now that that’s settled, perhaps we can eat? I really am quite famished.”
Her mouth worked as if she wanted to say something more but could not find the words. Finally, she spun on her heel and marched toward the house.
Nick smiled. No doubt about it; something about Lady Janus definitely pricked at his senses. And he got a kick out of watching her struggle with her fiery nature. He usually had a rule about mixing business with pleasure, but in this case the two seemed in each other’s pocket. Oh, yes, he had the feeling that this investigation was going to be really interesting.
Chapter 12
Lillian could hardly eat a bite for the butterflies swarming in her middle. She was mystified by Nicholas Redford’s unenthusiastic offer of marriage and appalled by the fact that she had to actually sit ac
ross the table from the man who had had her begging for him just a few hours before. Gallingly, the source of her discomfiture did not seem affected in the least by her presence. He sat at the table—broad, dark and stunning—wolfing down his food as if this were his last meal.
“Slow down, Mr. Redford. Cook usually prepares more than enough to feed a horse.”
“Headmaster Dunn always said that I ate like one,” he remarked, stopping his fork in mid-thrust. Slowly setting the utensil onto the table, he lifted his goblet and gulped his wine.
“It was ill-mannered of me to comment so,” she spoke quietly. “In fact, my servants would be well satisfied if I followed your example. Quite inappropriately, they say that I eat like a bird.” She knew that it was only because they cared, and she was glad for it, to be sure.
“You’ve been a bit preoccupied, I suppose.” Lifting his fork, he dug into his ham once more.
“Frazzled, more like it. Ever since Dillon’s arrest my life has been…” Her cheeks heated. “Chaotic.”
“Growing up in an orphanage, we learned to eat when we had the chance. Nothing—not nerves, disasters or bloodshed—could keep us from a hot meal.”
As she was reminded of his origins, another twinge of guilt nagged at her for her comment. Not even bothering to pretend any longer, she pushed away her plate. “You seem so self-reliant. It’s hard to imagine you as a needy child.”
“Every child is needy in one way or another. That’s why I’ll never have any.”
She leaned forward. “Really?”
“Well, I certainly don’t need to produce the heirs.”
“But don’t you want to perpetuate your name?”
“My given name represents nothing beyond the place where I was abandoned as a babe.” At the questioning look on her face, he added, “Redford is a distortion of ‘reed ford.’ A river crossing.”
“And you do not wish to have children because they are helpless?” It seemed the antithesis to his code of honor.
“Children need a good father, and I don’t know how to be one.” It sounded like a frail excuse, but then again, she had never been an orphan in a foundling home. She had no idea what he had been through.
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