In My Lady's Chamber

by Laura Matthews

  “I fear my mother was a bit misguided to acquiesce in such a scheme, Miss Tremere,” he intoned stiffly. “The Heythrop treasure is not a matter to be handled lightly and by . . . someone outside the family. My father would be justifiably irritated to hear of it.”

  “Lady Eastwick thought otherwise. She felt that the earl would welcome a diversion for the children, and as so many generations have proved unsuccessful, there is little chance that we would actually find it. I could, of course, devise some simpler means of occupying the youngsters’ minds, but when there is already a very strong temptation in the family tradition which will catch their imaginations, it seems pointless to ignore it. Since I first came here, I have heard of the mystery off and on and I would find it a useful tool to restore everyone’s spirits.” She smiled calmly at him. "I am not likely to spread any word or make off with the valuables, Lord Heythrop. Lady Eastwick is prepared to trust to my discretion.”

  His face suffused with color under her steady regard. "Well, but . . . Of course, I am sure . . . I can understand how you came to be intrigued by our mystery . . ."

  “Frankly, Lord Heythrop, I am inclined to regard it as rather a legend. We are too remote in time from the last possessor of the treasure to adequately put any interpretation on the few clues available. Still, I foresee a rather merry treasure hunt which will occupy the summer months. Do you not feel any concern for the lowness your brothers and sisters are experiencing?”

  “Yes, certainly I do, but there must be other ways to cheer them.”

  “None quite so effective, I think. I have already pursued a relentless course of entertainments fit for their ages, with less success than I had hoped. If you have some suggestion, I would welcome hearing it.”

  Her very competence made him feel unsure of himself. Sitting at her ease, her hands folded gracefully in her lap, he could think of nothing to suggest to her but more studies, which he knew to be impractical and exactly the opposite of what the younger ones needed. Miss Tremere had a most unusual effect on Edward, and one he did not wish to explore at any depth. It was not merely the soothing influence she had on all about her, nor the subtle but delightful sense of humor she had exhibited on numerous occasions; there was that problem of his seeing her as a woman.

  Time and again he had reminded himself that she was a governess in his house (his father’s house), that to consider her in any other light was reprehensible. But in his eagerness to fulfill his responsibilities, Edward had cut himself off from the normal social intercourse of the neighborhood, and seeing Miss Tremere daily was a powerful tonic to one of his disposition. Maintaining a rigid control over his emotions (if not always his temper) for the sake of the position he was attempting to fill, he found in her a wholly sympathetic blend of composure, intelligence and beauty.

  Lowering his eyes from her gaze to study the high polish on his top boots, he shrugged. "They'll adjust in time.”

  "It has already been several months, Lord Heythrop. Looking for the treasure seems a perfectly harmless way of diverting them. Lady Eastwick remembers how fascinated you all were when Lord Eastwick told you of it as children. I envision expeditions to Bicknoller, searches of Charton Court and its surrounds, an investigation of the parish records of both areas, a thorough study of family history. But we will need the missing letter.”

  Long since Edward had forgotten the lost item, but he was recalled to his former suspicion, regardless of knowing deep inside himself that Miss Tremere was not guilty of negligence. "Possibly it has fallen somewhere in your room, ma'am."

  "No, I didn’t open the leather tube until just before you arrived and it was not there. There is no chance of its having come away from the other papers in my suite, or even on the route from the archive room. My quick scan of the papers last night did not indicate any older paper in another hand, so I would feel confident in saying it was not with them at all.”

  "I don’t see how that can be,” he protested, running long, thin fingers through his neatly brushed black locks. "Mother surely would not have taken it; she’s not the least interested in the mystery.”

  "No, and it took her some time to remember where the papers were. She’d only seen them once before, apparently. And I don’t imagine your father would have removed it from the archive room, considering the unwritten law that everything remain there.”

  Edward had the grace to flush at this rejoinder, realizing full well that Miss Tremere considered that he exaggerated slightly as to the strength of this policy, which he did. Nonetheless, he was convinced that it was not his father who had taken the letter, and he dropped onto the large oak chair behind the desk in an attitude of abstraction. "I can’t swear that it was here when Father left for America; I had no reason to check the papers then. I doubt he did, either. And it makes no sense for someone to have stolen it and not the other papers."

  “More likely it was a family member who wished an opportunity to study it more carefully. Still, the archive room is kept locked and the children could not have gotten in without asking you or your mother for the key. I presume none of them approached you.”

  “I would hardly have allowed them to scrounge around there unaccompanied!” A thought struck him and his brows drew together in an angry line as he abruptly rose to his feet. “If you will excuse me, I must have a word with my mother.”

  Fortuitously, Lady Eastwick was just in the motion of tapping at the door when her son threw it open. She felt that Miss Tremere had been with her son a sufficient time to require her intervention, and when she saw his scowl she exclaimed, “For heaven’s sake, Edward, you haven’t gone and lost your temper with Miss Tremere, have you?”

  Ignoring her question, he posed one of his own. “Mother, did you let Uncle James in the archive room when he was down for Katey’s funeral?”

  Lady Eastwick glanced from him to Theodosia, and satisfied that the governess showed no sign of distress, back to her son again. “Yes, dear. He wished to see some records relating to his birth or his godparents or some such thing.”

  “Did you give him the key, or did you go with him?”

  "I gave him the key, of course. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because he’s gone and taken one of the papers relating to the treasure,” her son growled.

  Mystified, Lady Eastwick turned to Theodosia for enlightenment, since her son made no effort to explain. The governess attempted to bring some reason to the rapidly deteriorating situation.

  "The first earl’s letter wasn’t attached to the other papers as it should have been, but I’m sure there is no way of knowing how it came to be missing. Just because Mr. James Heythrop visited the archive room doesn’t indicate that he took it.”

  "Well, of course not! Edward, how could you suggest such a thing?”

  “Because he’s a loose screw if ever I saw one.” His face set stubbornly. “You needn’t remind me that he’s father’s youngest brother. I am well aware of it and rue the relationship. Father informed me before he left that he had provided Uncle James with an allowance sufficient to see him through to the fall—and a very generous one it was!—and yet my dear uncle approached me for money while he was here. And that was only half a year after Father left! You may be sure he has a mind to find the treasure on his own and sell it to settle his gambling debts.”

  “Edward! I really am ashamed to listen to such talk. And before Miss Tremere. I thought you had more family feeling than to do such a thing.”

  Theodosia stood unperturbed by the contretemps but Lord Heythrop hastened to undo any damage he might have caused. “I’m sorry, Mama! Miss Tremere, you must make light of my words. I fear I am distracted at thinking the letter lost. But it is possible that Uncle James has inadvertently taken it with him, and I shall write to check.”

  Feeling there was little likelihood of dissuading him, Lady Eastwick cast him an exasperated frown and drew Theodosia from the room. “You may be sure his letter will not be a model of tact, either,” she grumbled. “Not that he may
not have hit on the truth. I’m reluctant to say so, but James is not quite the thing. Well, you met him when he was here in March. He’s a beau, of course, and can exhibit the most winning manner, but he will play too deeply and lead the most reckless life. Eastwick has long since despaired of him. The estate at Bicknoller should be quite sufficient to provide him with the means of living elegantly, if not luxuriously, but he won’t have a thing to do with it but collect the rents. And he has allowed it to run down most frightfully. There isn’t the least reason for Eastwick to make him an allowance. You mustn’t think that I resent the loss of money; what I resent is seeing it change hands over a game of faro or bassett.”

  “Gambling is a hazardous pastime.”

  “Indeed. Forgive me for washing the family’s dirty linen before you, Miss Tremere. I think of James as little as possible because he is such a thorn in Eastwick’s side. I almost . . . Well, I almost cautioned you when he was down last time. He has quite an eye for the ladies and I could see that he was making up to you, but you seemed to have no difficulty handling him.”

  Theodosia grinned. “I had to use my hat pin a few times, and keep my door locked.”

  “Did you? I’m so sorry. You should have told me. I would have spoken to him, though I doubt it would have had much effect.”

  “I was able to avoid him most of the time. He hadn’t been here before since I came.”

  “He considers London the only civilized spot in the entire country.” Lady Eastwick sighed. “Don’t think he came here to condole with us for poor Katey. It simply provided him an opportunity to try to get extra money from Edward.”

  “So you really do think he may have taken the first earl’s letter? Why would he not simply have made a copy of it?” Theodosia’s brows rose questioningly.

  “He’s an arrogant devil. Why should he bother to go to all the effort of making a copy when he can simply lift the original? He’s probably crumpled it to pieces by now.”

  "I do hope not. Lord Heythrop was not at all anxious for the children to search for the treasure with me, but I don't think he actually forbade it.”

  “If he had, I would override him in this case, my dear Miss Tremere. I think it an excellent scheme and hope you will proceed as we planned.”

  They had paused at the foot of the stairs and Theodosia nodded. “I’m glad. When I’ve finished copying the ninth earl’s letter, I’ll take the copy with me to the schoolroom, but I’ll need to go over the old map with the children. Then I can return everything to the archive room. Hmm. Since we haven’t the major clue right now, and before I think of manufacturing any, I had best have the children find what they can among the old documents. I don’t mean to have them go through everything again, but the old account records, which show when the various buildings were put up and additions and changes made, could be of invaluable assistance. And it would give the children a better knowledge of their home and their heritage. Do you think Lord Heythrop would object to my allowing them to go through the records?”

  “Of course he will,” Lady Eastwick chuckled, “but pay no heed to him. As Heythrops they each have the right to do so. He’ll only worry that they will lose or destroy something, and I know you will supervise them closely.” She withdrew the ring of keys and detached that for the archive room, handing it to Theodosia. “You’ll not want to come to me each time you need to get in there. Just keep this with you.”

  Theodosia was aware that Lady Eastwick did not make the gesture lightly. Her role as chatelaine was important to her and she regarded it as a responsibility only slightly less significant than her role as wife and mother, seeing it as an extension of both. If she felt any chagrin that James Heythrop had possibly walked off with a family paper in abuse of the faith she had placed in him in lending him the key, she did not show it, and she would not permit that mishap to cloud her trust in the governess. Accepting the key with a grateful smile, Theodosia said, “Thank you, Lady Eastwick. I’ll take special care of it and direct all the children’s activities in the archive room.”

  “I know you will, dear.”

  Chapter Three

  The Honorable James Heythrop was not aware that anyone had entered the room when he muttered, "Damned young puppy!” Edward’s letter, as his mother had foreseen, was not a model of tact, and James, despite the fact that he was in possession of the paper requested, was in no mood to tolerate his youthful nephew’s stern reminders of the sanctity of any documents relating to the Heythrop legend.

  “Some problem, James?” his visitor inquired lazily.

  “Steyne! I didn’t hear you come in.” He rose hastily to his feet and thrust the offending letter onto a stack of duns.

  “Your porter said you were expecting me.”

  “I am. I am. Have a seat. I appreciate your coming. You never seem to be at home when I call and I have a matter of importance to discuss with you.” He watched the taller man dispose himself leisurely in the bergère chair with its massive armrests carved as winged chimaera. Every item of furniture in the room was as boldly designed as the chair, and almost every item was unpaid for, since most of them were new. James had found it expedient to make an impression on Viscount Steyne. Never one to quibble over investing a few pounds when there was a fortune to be won, James with his gambler’s mentality had refurbished the rooms he let in Deanery Street, and if he hadn’t bothered to pay for the furniture, so much the better.

  His visitor draped one long leg over the other, regarding James with speculative eyes. “I don’t believe I hold any of your notes, James. Am I mistaken?”

  Biting back an exclamation of annoyance, the older man gave a negligent shrug. “Of course you don’t, Steyne. I’ve had quite a run of luck, and it’s convinced me as nothing else could, that it’s time to put the gaming tables behind me. Losing always spurs one on, but winning has quite the opposite effect with me. Or perhaps it is something else which has changed my outlook.” He studied the closed face opposite him, but could gather no hint of whether the viscount took his meaning.

  James had never understood why Steyne received the attention he did from the ladies. There was nothing even remotely handsome about the rugged face, the cool brown eyes, the firm, cleft chin. Or at least, nothing to compare with his own extraordinary looks. James had the coal-black hair of the Heythrops, the symmetrical blend of features which had earned them the reputation of being one of the handsomest families in England and a well-made person, which was the envy of most of his contemporaries. At eight and thirty most of his friends were possessed of paunches and had frequently occurring bouts of colic, if not gout, which were only to be expected from their daily overindulgence. James was only of medium height, but his wiry frame looked and performed as youthfully as it had twenty years ago, or so he imagined. Not for him the heavy meals and bottles of port consumed thoughtlessly while amusing the ladies or playing faro. He had found early on that both were enough to drug a man into less than his usual wits, and James was not one to give the advantage to an opponent. He lived by his wits.

  Of course, Steyne hadn’t gone to seed, either. He was nearly a half-dozen years younger than James, and like himself had never married. There were any number of ladies who had tried to fix Steyne’s interest, with their parents’ concurrence; that at least was quite different than James. When James had first come on the town there had been the expected flutter of maidenly hearts, but time had shown prudent parents that he was not a worthy match for their darlings, and James had been as content to leave it that way. There had been an opera dancer and then an actress, a girl from a fashionable modiste’s shop, any number of them. He had lost count long ago. But today he was embarked on a different road altogether, and Steyne was likely to prove the tollgate keeper.

  The viscount had made no response to his remark and James had really not expected that he would. With a rueful grin he confessed, “I’m afraid I never expected it to happen. After all, I’ve led a perfectly contented life until now. Saw no reason to take the big step an
d saddle myself with a lot of responsibilities. But all that has changed.”

  His guest raised one expressive eyebrow, unimpressed with James’ boyish disclosures. “Precisely what has changed, James?”

  There was no mistaking the underlying cynicism of the question. Well, James had known it wouldn’t be easy. You did not lightly pit yourself against such an opponent but James had a trump card which he intended to use at exactly the right moment. “Everything.” He made a gesture of surrender. “I needn’t tell you how admirable your sister is, or that she outshines any of the children making their come-outs each year. My heart has never stood in any danger from the debutantes; I thought it stood in danger from no one. I remember Ruth at eighteen—captivating, clever, beautiful—but not for me. What was I then—twenty? I saw Morrison snap her up, and had no regrets. If I had known then what is plain to every eye now . . . Not only has her beauty weathered, but her sense and her nonsense. She’s the most capable, charming, delightful woman I’ve ever met. And to be widowed at her age cannot have been an easy matter to one of her sensibility. Much as I hate to admit it, though, I’m frankly grateful. I want to marry her, Steyne.”

  “You can’t be serious”

  Even this James had expected, and he forced himself to laugh. “I know. I’ve said the same to myself: You’ve led a ramshackle life, James my boy, and it must be age creeping up on you to have such a turn of heart. But I am older, Steyne, and I’m tired of the fruitless pursuit of novelty. God knows I’ve had my share of pleasures, and sowed my oats a great deal longer than most. The harvest looks a little ragged, I realize, but I’m presentable, have a tidy little estate in Somerset and an income from my brother.”