AmandaQuick-Affair.txt

by Affair (lit)

  She paused on the landing to give him a brittle smile. "As you say, Mr. St. Ives." "Bear in mind that occasionally the results of certain experi-

  ments take some time to develop," he said. "As long as nine months

  in some instances."

  He had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen in shock as his

  meaning sank home. Bleakly satisfied, he turned and walked into the study.

  Another scented wave swept over him. This room, too, ,,,as filled with blooms. A particularly large bowl of pale pink roses

  dominated the scene.

  Nine months. His own words struck him with the impact of a

  hammer blow. What if Charlotte was pregnant?

  He made for the brandy table. Charlotte's outraged yell sounded from the floor above just as

  Baxter got the top off the brandy decanter. "It's gone." Footsteps pounded overhead. "The bastard took it."

  Baxter put down the decanter with a long-suffering sigh. Arnan

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  could not even take a medicinal draught in this household without being interrupted.

  He made his way back to the doorway of the study. Ariel and Mrs. Witty were gazing up at the landing in openmouthed astonishrrient. Charlotte stood there looking as though she had just received a strong jolt from an electricity machine.

  Vhar is it?" Ariel demanded. "What happened?" Vrs. Witty stared at her. "What's wrong?"

  iarlotte flung her arms wide. "I just told you. Didn't you hear rn,., ! le took it." "Calm yourself, Charlotte," Baxter said. Everyone fell silent and turned to look at him. "Now, then, why don't you tell us precisely who took what?"

  "The villain we surprised here in this house last night," she said I.mpariently. "What about him?"

  1 concluded that he had not managed to steal anything, but I was wrong. I only thought to check those items that I believed would appeal to a thief, the silver and such." Charlotte drew a breath. "I did not bother to check Drusilla Heskett's watercolor sketchbook. I stored it in a wardrobe drawer."

  Baxter went cold. "Are you saying it's gone?" .'@@,s. That was no ordinary housebreaker, Baxter. He was after that sketchbook. And he got it." She leveled an accusing finger at him. "I told you that book contained a valuable clue, St. Ives."

  Baxter adjusted his spectacles absently as he considered the imPlications. "When you have finished refreshing yourself, come down here at once. Kindly do not dawdle." "Damn you, St. Ives. Don't you dare give me orders in my own house. Furthermore, I do not dawdle. I'm the one who followed Miss Post this morning, if you will but recall. When I attempted to tell You about the incident, you created a . . . a great distraction right there in your own laboratory. Any dawdling done this day was don( by you, sit."

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  Baxter closed the study door very gently and went back to the brandy table.

  gi-fteen minutes later, feeling vastly more composed, Charlotte swept into the study. Ariel and Mrs. Witty followed on her heels. Baxter was seated in the wingback chair in front of the fire. He glanced at the women and put down the half-finished brandy. "About time," he murmured as he got to his feet.

  Charlotte ignored him. "It is extremely fortunate that I thought to tear out the page that contained Drusilla Heskett's little drawing. " She went around her desk and opened a drawer. The torn sheet

  of sketch paper was inside, right where she had put it last night after Baxter had left. "This has got to be the clue. It was the only odd thing in the sketchbook."

  "I thought there were a number of oddities in that sketchbook," Ariel said cheerfully. "Some of them quite interesting."

  Charlotte scowled at her as she put the ragged page on top of the desk. "That is precisely why I removed this particular sketch. "

  Mrs. Witty peered at the pen-and-ink drawing. "Looks like so

  much nonsense to me. A triangle within a circle, three worms swimming about, and-" She squinted. "What's that thing in the

  center? A dragon?" "Some sort of winged creature, I believe." Charlotte pursed her lips. "Difficult to be certain. Mrs. Heskett did not possess a great talent for drawing. Except for certain types of anatomical studies, that is."

  Baxter crossed to the desk. "Let me see the picture." Charlotte felt a stirring sensation on her skin as he came to

  a halt and stood gazing down at the sketch. She had his full attention now, she thought. The news of the theft of the sketchbook had caused him to focus his considerable intellect oil the

  situation.

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  It seemed to her that the quiet power he radiated when he was

  ntense shimmered around him in an invisible aura. She wonthis I

  dered how Ariel and Mrs. Witty could fail to notice. And then she saw that both of them had moved slightly, as if to give Baxter more room. BLIt in truth there was ample space at the desk. Neither seemed aware of the subtle change in position.

  Charlotte almost smiled. Most people might not be conscious of Baxter's solid, inner strength, but that did not mean they failed to respond to it in an instinctive fashion.

  He picked up the sheet of paper and looked more closely at the I I I draw iig- H s brows drew together in a dark line above the rims of his spectacles. "There is something familiar about this picture."

  Excitement rushed through Charlotte. "What do you mean? Have you seen such a design somewhere else?" "Perhaps. A long time ago." Baxter glanced up from the drawing. His eyes met hers. "I shall have to do some research in my I library. "

  11 You have seen something similar in one of your books?" Ariel asked quickly. "Possibly." He eyed the picture again. "I cannot be certain, but If memory serves, it is a very ancient thing."

  11 Ancient." Charlotte shuddered. "Why in heaven's name would Mrs. Heskett have copied an old design in her sketchbook and why would someone want to steal it?" "You're assuming that whoever took the sketchbook did so because of this drawing," Baxter said. "The villain must have been after that picture. It was the only one that was different and unusual." "Hmm." Baxter folded the sheet of paper. "It has been my experience as a chemist that the easiest way to go about finding solut"Ons to problems is to begin by eliminating obvious loose ends. ''

  Mrs. Witty sighed. "Seems to me that all ye've got at this point are 1 se ends, sir."

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  "One or two can be snipped off," he said. "With luck, the situation will become clearer once I have taken care of them."

  ,,You refer to the matter of Miss Post's visit," Charlotte said. "What do you intend to do?"

  "Assure myself that there is no connection between her and

  Drusilla Heskett's murder," Baxter said. "The way to eliminate that

  possibility is to discover whether or not my half brother sent her to

  you in an act of deliberate mischief."

  "Hamilton?" Ariel's mouth dropped open in outrage. "You can-

  not mean to suggest that Lord Esherton sent Miss Post to tell that

  outlandish tale to Charlotte?"

  "He thinks Hamilton may have done it as a sort of practical joke," Charlotte explained hastily. "I have told St. Ives that is

  highly unlikely."

  11 Unlikely? It's impossible," Ariel declared. "His lordship is a

  gentleman. He would never stoop to such a nasty trick."

  Baxter raised his brows. "I see Hamilton has managed to make

  an excellent impression on this household."

  Ariel gestured toward the large vase of pink roses. "He sent

  those magnificent flowers this morning. His taste, as you can see, is very refined. He is not the sort to play a vicious practical joke."

  Baxter gave the roses a disgusted look. "It doesn't take exquisite sensibilities or a noble character to conclude that it is appropriate to

  send roses to a lady the morning after a ball."

  "An interesting observation," Charlotte said dryly. "One could certainly expect any gentle
man, even one unaccustomed to the ways of Society, to know enough to send flowers to a lady following a

  particularly memorable evening." She paused deliberately. "Or even

  after a memorable morning, for that matter."

  Baxter shot her a disconcerted glance. Charlotte could have sworn that a hint of ruddy color appeared high on his cheekbones.

  She favored him with her brightest smile.

  Ariel was distraught. "Mr. St. Ives, surely you do not believe

  that your own brother conspired with Miss Post?"

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  He gave a dismissive shrug. "As I said, I intend to learn the ruth of the matter. Once we know how Miss Post is involved in all f this, we shall have some notion of how to proceed."

  Charlotte stepped quickly around the edge of the desk. "I wish be present when you speak with your brother." "Not bloody likely," Baxter said. She gave him another smile, this one not quite so bright. "Let ie put it this way, St. Ives. A barga'n is a bargain. Either you take ,-,ie with you when you confront Lord Esherton or I shall be forced

  conclude that you wish us to pursue this investigation indepentcntly of each other. Our partnership will be at an end.

  He regarded her with a thoughtful expression that did noth- [g to mask the banked flames in his eyes. "Blackmail is it now, liss Arkendale? The range of your talents never ceases to amaze

  The accusation hurt. She tried valiantly to conceal the pain i-@t@hind a coolly amused look. "In my business, Mr. St. Ives, one

  lcarns to use whatever tools happen to be at hand in order to com-

  piete the task." "I see." He inclined his head and turned to walk toward the door. "Well, I trust you enjoyed the tool that you used so very I-Ifectively less than an hour ago in my laboratory, Miss Arkendale. I

  sure you, that particular length of iron has never been so well ated in such a small, warm crucible. 11

  For an instant Charlotte could not believe she had heard right. id then outrage poured through her. "Of all the damnable nerve." ',lie snatched up the nearest hefty object, a vase of pansies.

  Ariel gave a small cry of alarm. "Wait, those are some of my

  1.1"wers."

  Her protest came too late. Charlotte had already hurled the @;e. It struck the door, which Baxter had somehow managed close very neatly behind himself as he stepped out into the 'Al.

  186 Amanda Quick -XI( half hour after midnight, Baxter sat in the shadowed depths of the carriage and studied the front door of The Green Table from the opposite side of the street.

  A light fog cloaked the scene. Carriages came and went, depositing raucous gentlemen in various stages of inebriation at the foot of

  the steps. Baxter saw Hamilton, Norris, and several laughing com-

  panions erupt from one vehicle. They bounded toward the entrance

  of the establishment. "Well?" Charlotte demanded. "Did you see your brother go inside?" "Yes. He has managed to avoid me all afternoon and evening, but I've finally cornered him." Baxter eased the curtain across the

  window and sat back in the seat. "I believe I recognize the premises. This house was once a popular brothel known as The Cloister."

  "I recall hearing of The Cloister." There was sharp disapproval in Charlotte's tone. "Some of the so-called gentlemen I researched at

  the beginning of my career were rumored to favor the place. What would you know of it, sit?"

  Baxter hoped that the darkness concealed his quick, amused grin. "I assure you, I am aware of it by reputation only." "I see." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I do not believe that I

  have come across any reference to The Cloister for at least two

  years. "It was closed some time ago. There has obviously been a

  change in management." "Yes. It may be a rather raffish gaming hell now, but that is certainly a step up from a brothel, if you ask me."

  Baxter smiled. In the deep darkness of the unlit cab he COLM barely make out Charlotte's face. The hood of her cloak shrouded

  her features.

  He still was not quite certain how he had allowed himself to be

  convinced to bring her along tonight. Blackmail threats aside, she had a way of achieving her own ends, he thought. A strong, formi-

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  dab], woman, indeed. Perhaps that was one of the reasons on the

  growing list of why he was so attracted to her. She was definitely not the sort to succumb to a fit of the vapors or burst into tears

  whenever she wanted her own way. She stood toe-to-toe and insisted upon what she viewed as her rights.

  M difficult as Charlotte was proving to be, there was something b(l said for a strong-minded female, Baxter decided. With Charte, a man did not have to waste a great deal of unnecessary time

  and energy catering to a lot of damned delicate feminine sensibil'ities.

  She had not complained of the fact that he had made love to her

  or) a laboratory workbench, for example. He suspected that many women would have taken deep offense. He had to admit that the

  setting had lacked something in terms of romantic ambience.

  On the other hand, she was the one who had labeled the passionate interlude an experiment, Baxter reminded himself He supposed he should have been relieved that she had not placed too

  much importance on the event, but for some reason he could not

  stop brooding about it.

  With each passing day, Charlotte was becoming increasingly adept at disrupting his calm, orderly existence. "What will you do?" she asked. "Go into The Green Table and drag Hamilton out here to the

  carriage, where I can speak to him in private." Baxter removed his eyeglasses and placed them in the pocket of his greatcoat. "Why are you taking off your spectacles?" "Because I would prefer that no one take any notice of me. Those who know me are accustomed to seeing me in eyeglasses. I wish to keep this matter a private one between Hamilton and myself. "

  "I understand," Charlotte said gently. "It is a family thing, is it not?"

  Unfortunately, yes."

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  "But how will you be able to find Hamilton in the crowd witliout your eyeglasses?" ,,A friend of mine, the Earl of Masters, is something of an invc,,tor. He designed an interesting watch for me." He pushed oper, window curtain far enough to allow a shaft of weak moonlight to

  enter the carriage. Then he removed his pocket watch and snapped it open. He held the watch close to his eyes as though trying to

  make out the time the way a man did in a shadowed room. He gazed at Charlotte through the glass watch cover, which was, in fact, a single lens. "How very clever," Charlotte said. "A sort of quizzing glass "Masters is a clever man. He designed some of my chemical apparatus for me." Baxter closed the watch and put it back into his

  pocket. He reached for the door handle. "Don't suppose it's worth one more attempt to talk you out of being present when I question Hamilton?"

  "Save your breath, sit. I was the one who actually spoke to Miss

  Post, after all. If Hamilton is guilty of this mischief, which I dout)t, I have some questions of my own for him."

  "I feared as much." Baxter got out of the carriage. He turnc@cl back as a thought struck him. "I have a question of my own con-

  cerning Miss Post's visit to you." "What is it?"

  "What with one thing and another, I overlooked one very odd piece of this business." "Yes?" "Why was it that you did not believe Miss Post's tale? What

  made you think that she was not my cast-off paramour?"

  Charlotte gave a ladylike snort. "Don't be ridiculous, Baxtcr. You would never abandon some poor woman who was pregno"t with your child. Such a callous action would be completely out Of

  character for you. Whoever sent Miss Post to me with that wild t,11c obviously did not know you well."

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  Baxter studied the line of her firm, straight nose, which was just barely visible b
eneath the hood of her cloak. "I think it far more likely," lie said softly, 11 that whoever commissioned Miss Post to act

  her role did not know you well, Charlotte."

  He closed the carriage door before she could respond. He 4anced back once as he went down the street toward The

  1@

  Green Table. She would be safe, he thought. The coachman from Severedges's would keep an eye on her.

  in spite of the unpleasant scene that lay ahead, he found himself

  S 'I 11g @L little as he walked through the light, swirling fog. Most mi I

  lad 1 es would have believed Juliana Post's outrageous story. It was an

  all too common tale. Women alone in the world very often fell prey to the cruel seductions of men who had few qualms about abandoning them once the liaisons became inconvenient.

  In the course of her extremely unusual career, Charlotte had become better acquainted than most of her sex with the dark side of masculine nature. Her view of men was pragmatic to the point of cynicism. It would have been quite natural for her to have believed the worst that Miss Post had to tell her. Yet she had not given a moment's credence to the lie.

  Baxter savored that thought as he approached the steps of The Green Table. For some reason that he did not want to examine, it was of vital importance to know that Charlotte had believed in him when faced with such damning evidence. Surely she had some spark of genulne affection for him that went beyond a mere desire for passionate experimentation.

  A carriage rumbled to a halt in front of the gaming hell just as Baxter reached the steps. Loud laughter and coarse jokes sounded from the cab. The vehicle's door slammed open and five young, drunken dandies spilled out onto the pavement. One of them lost his balance on the wet ground and wound up planted on his rear. His friends found his predicament hilarious.

  Baxter stood back in the shadows and waited as the newcomers

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