Compromising Miss Milton

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Leave? But my great-uncle—’

  ‘Go or I reveal to the world the opium eater that you are, Heritage.’

  ‘Go?’

  ‘Leave, get out of my sight.’ Adam stepped away from him. Years ago, they had served together. It still counted for something. ‘If I catch you around here tomorrow, you will be exposed.’

  ‘Tonight? But my great-uncle!’

  ‘Tonight. The next time we meet, it will be in hell.’ Adam turned on his heel and walked from the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Daisy pulled the shawl tighter about her shoulders. Somewhere behind her, Webster was following her. She had no doubt of it. But it did not matter, she wanted to be outside in the early morning, rather than in her suite with the walls pressing against her soul.

  She should probably have been more prudent and waited for Adam to accompany her on the walk, but that was precisely the point. Every day she delayed, she knew it was another day when her heart became more entwined with Adam’s. Her dreams had been full of his mouth and the way his hands caressed her skin.

  She paused and lifted the green gingham skirt over a puddle. Polly had carefully packed away all her old clothes, leaving only the clothes Adam had provided. However, Daisy had to admit the green dress did something for her spirits, and she did prefer the green-trimmed straw bonnet to the one Adam had ruined.

  As she had suspected, no one was moving about on the hotel’s grounds this morning. Everything was still and the dewdrops hung on the spider’s webs.

  The mist cleared slightly. Her shoulders relaxed a little. As she suspected, Webster followed her from a distance. At her look, he raised his hand with an object tightly clutched in his left fist, saluting her. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, but the figure had turned, becoming no more than a dark shadow. A distinct chill went through Daisy. Was it Webster? Or the other man?

  ‘Miss Milton, Miss Milton, here I find you.’ Nella crashed through the yew hedge, her pinafore askew and her straw hat falling off her head.

  ‘Nella, what are you doing here? Is your sister with you?’ Daisy heaved a sigh of relief. No more ghosts and mist-wrapped figures, but a flesh-and-blood girl badly in need of direction and assistance.

  ‘There is a huge row going on at our house.’ Nella scuffed her boot in the dirt. ‘Susan demands our immediate departure. Apparently Lord Edward is insupportable. He refused to attend her properly during the dance. Mama is consoling her and everyone has forgotten me.’

  Daisy tightened her hands about her reticule. The chaos, confusion and general upset were things she did not miss. Mrs Blandish would be searching for targets on which to vent her irritation. It was no wonder that Nella had escaped. ‘It is a shame that proposed match fell through, but no doubt Miss Blandish will have many more admirers.’

  ‘Lord Edward was kind to me after I told him about your box of jewels that your brother had sent you from India.’

  ‘Nella, my brother only sent me a rattle.’

  ‘Then I drew a picture of him for fun.’ Nella pushed her straw bonnet back still further and screwed her nose up. ‘It is wicked of me, I know, to show it to Susan and she laughed. But Lord Edward tore the picture up and called me a wicked girl.’

  ‘Why did he do that? Tear up your drawing.’

  ‘I saw him talking to this strange man and thought he would be a good likeness. So he was the fox and Lord Edward was the snake.’

  Daisy shook her head. No proof of wrongdoing in Nella’s story. ‘Perhaps you made too much of the satire.’

  ‘You mean like the time I drew Susan as a cat lounging by the fire? Or Mama as an Indian elephant.’

  ‘What did the other man look like?’ Daisy attempted to keep her voice calm. The last thing she wanted was for Nella to go off into one of her tales.

  ‘He had these odd eyes—one green and the other brown. They were all bloodshot as well. I thought he looked like a corpse that had just risen from the grave. And I thought he might be the man who used to frighten Mademoiselle Le Claire and me last year. We would see him striding along with his black bag, sometimes full and sometimes empty. Once I was sure that I saw him carrying a dead man. Mademoiselle said that he would eat me up if I was bad. This one had an angry scar around his neck, as if he had been hanged.’

  Daisy gritted her teeth. Mademoiselle had a lot to answer for, encouraging Nella’s imagination to run along those lines. ‘Are you sure that the men were the same?’

  ‘I think so. They had the same marking on their hand—a bird or something. I drew a picture of it in my last but one drawing book. It is why I want to look at my old sketchbook. He used to live in this hut. One day while Mademoiselle slept, I went off and I saw him dragging a body out. But no one believed me.’

  ‘Where was the hut? I am surprised you did not tell me about the story when we were out on our walks.’ Daisy kept her voice casual. The last thing she wanted was to be involved in another of Nella’s Banbury stories, but there was a real possibility of finding the gang and ending this once and for all, before anyone else became hurt.

  ‘The one in the woods. You know, the woods I don’t like to go into because of the ghosts.’ Nella made a face. ‘Anyway, I have misplaced the sketch pad and wondered if you had accidentally taken it?’

  ‘I do not think I took anything of yours.’

  Nella drew a line in the dirt, scuffing the toe of her boot. She held out a pile of letters tied with a thin black ribbon. ‘Some of your things were muddled with mine and I just wondered.’

  Daisy stared at the handwriting. She had forgotten about Tom’s letters. She had taken them with her the last time she had returned from visiting Felicity as Felicity was going on and on about not having any storage space. She drew a steadying breath and here at last was the simple explanation for the scrap of paper under the doll. Something must have become dislodged in her pile of letters. No one was after her at that point.

  The irony of it—agreeing to be married partly because of an old letter. Even as she thought it, her heart whispered that she was lying. She had agreed to be married because she had wanted to.

  ‘I will have a look for your sketch book, Nella.’

  ‘I had just hoped. I wanted to see if they were the same man, but now I will never know for certain.’

  ‘When do you depart from Gilsland?’ Daisy put her hand on Nella’s shoulder. There was little point in worrying Nella about the attackers.

  ‘Mama hopes Susan is being overly dramatic about Lord Edward. Do you know how Papa is going to rant when he realises that Susan could have married an earl’s grandson but she threw it away by demanding that he dance attendance on her?’

  ‘Susan did the right thing. It is better to end a marriage before it begins.’ Daisy regarded the line of trees. Was there a hut hidden the woods? It seemed so odd that her own vision had been right in front of the woods. Perhaps she had seen one of the gang, this man that Nella had described. She gave a small smile. There was always a logical explanation, if she took the time and the trouble to discover it.

  ‘Precisely, which is why I am going to be a lady explorer and never have to be concerned about such matters.’

  ‘I hope you will be a lady explorer. Now, you must get back to your dear mama before she worries.’ Daisy gave Nella her fierce governess look.

  ‘You are the best governess ever, Miss Milton.’ Nella raised up on her tiptoes and kissed Daisy’s cheek. ‘But I think you look much prettier in the green dress. And you should have heard Mama and Susan go on about your ball gown.’

  ‘Idle flattery will get you everywhere, Nella. I will take a second look for the sketch book.’

  Nella laughed and ran off, her bonnet bobbing behind her. Daisy sighed. It was such a joy to watch someone be carefree and not have to reprimand them.

  With deft fingers she brushed a patch of dirt that Nella’s fingers had left from her gown. Adam would have to know about the man and his strange tattoo. It could be the breakthrough that he was wa
iting for and a way for them to begin to rebuild their lives.

  * * *

  ‘I wanted to let you know that Lord Edward became angry a few days ago when Nella drew his picture,’ Daisy blurted out when she discovered Adam breakfasting on the terrace. ‘He was in deep conversation with a man who had two different-coloured eyes.’

  Adam put down his coffee cup. His eyes appeared drawn and haggard as if he hadn’t slept. ‘Heritage has departed. He left this morning for London. He left a note. Apparently he and Miss Blandish quarrelled heavily and there was no reason for him to remain.’

  ‘Lord Edward has left?’ Daisy stared at him in dismay. ‘I thought after last night that he intended staying. He was charged with recovering the necklace… The man’s overwhelming sense of importance still astonishes me.’

  A faint smile touched Adam’s lips, but his eyes glowered. ‘Heritage decided on reflection that he likes the world to think of him as a gentleman. I suspect he will be in London as soon as he possibly can. Your paths will not cross again.’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘Webster carried his valise.’ He held out a plate of toast and his eyes softened. ‘Do sit down and have some. You look hungry. I understand you woke quite early and went for a walk.’

  ‘I found it impossible to sleep and…’ Daisy paused. She could hardly confess that dreams of him touching her body had driven her from her bed. ‘The outside called to me. I am often in the habit of walking before breakfast.’

  He lifted a brow and his hand paused momentarily on the toast. ‘Do you always take such risks? You agreed…’

  ‘Strictly speaking, I was not alone. I saw Webster in the distance and waved. Then Nella Blandish discovered me.’

  He popped a piece of toast in his mouth, licking his fingers slowly, one by one, reminding her of the way he had suckled hers in the card room. ‘Then I stand corrected. But you must take care.’

  Daisy gave her head a shake and concentrated on the sugar bowl rather than on the way her insides seemed to be melting. ‘Nella gave me some information. She thinks the man with strange eyes is the same one who lived in the hut last summer. She saw the bird tattoo when he was speaking to Lord Edward and it reminded her…’

  Adam wiped his mouth with a napkin, his body becoming instantly alert. ‘Which hut?’

  ‘There is a stone hut in the centre of the woods near here. Nella always hated it and I thought it quite deserted. Nella tends to have…well…a vivid imagination. But after the ball, I am far from certain.’

  ‘Vivid imaginations sometimes have a basis in fact.’ He frowned and shuffled through a variety of papers. ‘Did Nella tell you why she disliked the hut? Or is it indeed another of her tall tales?’

  ‘Her governess last year apparently used a man with strange eyes to frighten Nella into good behaviour.’ Daisy crossed her arms. He had gone from indulgent lover to investigator in the matter of a heartbeat. Her heart gave a pang at the eagerness of the change. ‘Nella swears she saw this man drag a body from the hut last summer. But I suspect it is Nella’s imagination at work again. Mademoiselle would have certainly informed Mrs Blandish.’

  ‘Does she have a portrait of the man? Anything that might help?’

  ‘I drew a map of the approximate location. Nella has always insisted that we keep away.’ Daisy placed the rough sketch on the table and kept her voice as brisk as possible. ‘She also gave me some letters I left behind, letters from Tom. I want to go through them in case he says anything of interest.’

  ‘He won’t have.’ Adam dismissed the idea with a sweeping wave of his hand. ‘This is about real people, Daisy. Here. Today. In the present. Someone is using the story to mask their identity. You aren’t wearing your brooch.’

  ‘I could not find it. Polly has straightened everything up and has followed your orders to box up my old clothes, rather than my request to leave them.’

  ‘Naturally, as I pay her wages.’

  Daisy forced down a quick retort. ‘Nella told Lord Edward some tall tale about my box containing jewels, which is where that idea came from.’ She nodded towards the sketch. ‘Shall we investigate the hut?’

  ‘I will arrange for it to be watched.’ He glanced at the rough sketch before folding the sheet and placing it in his breast pocket. Then his face changed back towards his seductive one. ‘I am impressed that you did not go and investigate yourself.’

  ‘These are men who hurt people. Why should I risk danger to prove a point? There is a difference between taking the morning air in sight of the hotel and going off on some adventure.’

  ‘Very wise,’ he purred. And Daisy began to suspect that he was using her attraction towards him to divert her attention. ‘You look tired. How long have you been awake?’

  Her heart lurched and she knew that, despite everything, she was sliding inexorably down the slippery slope towards caring about him. She glanced up at the sky. Sliding? She had already slid. At some point over the past few days, seeing him had become indispensable to her well-being. ‘I will be fine.’

  ‘You should rest and that is an order. Balls and country dancing exhaust the unwary.’

  ‘And you intend to order me about?’

  ‘Only when you need it.’ His hand touched hers, curling about it. ‘Please, Daisy, you have circles under your eyes. I will look into Nella’s story. And before you ask, I will let you know the moment I hear anything. Like you, I am well aware of the danger. I am not about to take stupid chances.’

  * * *

  Daisy undid the black ribbon holding her brother’s letters together. The bold handwriting leapt out at her, sending a pang through her body. How much would she give for Tom’s reassuring common sense now? What had he thought about Adam Ravensworth?

  Sometimes in the past few days, it felt like she had entered a hall of mirrors where nothing was what it seemed. Adam Ravensworth was an enigma, able to change moods so quickly that she found it impossible to know what he was thinking. She wanted to trust him and believe in him, but did she dare confide in him about Kammie? Had Tom trusted him?

  She glanced at the date and the place. Simply one of his letters from the hill station near Mysoorie where he had spent the summer. He had met a woman, someone he was certain that she would like, but there were complications. The maharajah as a gesture of goodwill had given him two puzzle boxes as a welcoming present, but Tom suspected that the maharajah knew more than he said about the opium trade and the thuggee and wanted to keep him on side. The chief servant to the maharajah, Sanjay, had dual-coloured eyes, just like him. Daisy put the letter down with a trembling hand. Adam was wrong. One of the thuggee had survived. It could be the only solution.

  Daisy stopped and reread the words again about the puzzle box. Why had she missed it the first time? Had the box Tom sent her been one of the puzzle boxes? Hurrying over to the dressing table, she searched for the box, but it had disappeared.

  A cold crept over Daisy. She knew she had brought the box with her from the Blandishes. It always sat on her dressing table. Had someone searched this room like they had searched the schoolroom?

  She shook her head. There was no warning scarf. She had to stop seeing things that did not exist. Polly would have simply moved it when they were doing all the sewing yesterday. Logic and reason, not superstition and fantasy, should rule.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Daisy opened it and saw Adam standing there, eyes alight, neckcloth askew. She took a few steps backwards and allowed him in.

  ‘The world has done Nella a disservice!’ he proclaimed with a barely suppressed excitement in his voice. ‘The hut exists and shows signs of recent occupation. Webster is watching it.’

  ‘That is good news.’ Daisy forced her lips to turn upwards, and her voice to sound light and unconcerned, but her insides churned. They had reached the end.

  ‘When they return, Webster will send for me. It is nearly over, Daisy.’ Adam stopped and his brow became creased. ‘Something is wrong. I thought you were
merely overly tired from the ball, but it is something else. Confide in me, Daisy. Your troubles are mine.’

  Daisy walked to the desk and shuffled through the brittle letters. ‘I am becoming worse than Nella. I have been rereading my brother’s letters. He mentions a Sanjay who had dual-coloured eyes.’

  ‘Sanjay was one of the chief murderers of the thuggee gang. I had forgotten about his eyes.’

  ‘Then he could be the man who is behind this. The man I met on the riverbank told me to ask for a Mr Sanjay. They must be one and the same.’

  ‘Impossible. Sanjay is a common enough name in India. Your brother’s Sanjay survived the battle. I can remember him snarling, spitting and swearing his revenge all the way back to Bombay, but he was hanged. Heritage was not negligent in his duty then.’

  ‘Nella said that the man she remembered had an angry red mark about his neck.’

  ‘Nella likes to exaggerate. You have said so many times. Sanjay was without friends in the end. And even if he had survived, how would he have gone from India to Britain?’ His finger lifted up her chin and his molten-caramel gaze searched her face. ‘What else is troubling you from Tom’s letters?’

  ‘Tom mentioned receiving two puzzle boxes as a gift from the maharajah.’

  ‘The maharajah always gave bribes to the Englishmen who visited his palace. He was very good at spying out our weaknesses.’

  ‘Tom loved codes and the like, so he did not go far wrong.’ It was on the tip of Daisy’s tongue to ask what Adam’s weakness was, but then she decided that she did not want to know. All she wanted was for him to continue to look at her in that way. ‘Tom’s box is missing.’

  Instantly the colour of his eyes shifted, and became hardened amber. ‘Has anything else gone?’

  ‘I worry if they went through my things. Kammie is Tom’s daughter and if—’

  ‘Your niece is Tom’s daughter?’ Adam turned a sickly shade of green.

  ‘Yes, she is named after her mother, Kamala. Did you know her?’