Alex nodded. He’d given his butler standing orders to consult the Duke of Sussex or the Marquess of Shepherdston with any urgent matters whenever Alex was away from London on business.
“I took it upon myself to ask Lady Creighton to invite Lady McElreath to tonight’s soiree,” Daniel continued, “because I knew you would be in attendance and that Lord McElreath would not.”
“I don’t understand,” Alex began.
Daniel gave Alex a rueful little smile, before leaning close and lowering his voice. “I’ve a most important assignment for you, Alex. One only you can accomplish.”
“Anything,” Alex vowed.
But Daniel held up a hand to forestall him. “Don’t be too eager to accept. This one has nothing to do with our usual missions. The consequences of this mission—in success or failure—are equally severe. I’ve no wish to have this on my conscience,” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “Either way. But with Colin gone… Miranda and I would consider it a very great favor if you would speak with Lady McElreath.”
Tonight’s soiree was one of several charity evenings of music and dancing leading up to the start of the Season, which wouldn’t begin in earnest until May. But Parliament was in secession. Its members had come to town a bit earlier than usual and expected to be entertained. Lady Creighton, one of society’s most popular hostesses, had sponsored tonight’s event in order to raise funds to help house, feed, and clothe the widows and orphans of soldiers and sailors lost in the war.
All invitees had been asked to contribute a minimum of fifty pounds upon acceptance of the invitation. Although the Earl and Countess McElreath were almost always invited to these gatherings, Lord McElreath routinely eschewed all charity affairs and all affairs that did not include gaming. The earl didn’t contribute money that could be used for gambling to charity. Knowing the earl would refuse the invitation and that Lady McElreath could not attend without him, Daniel had asked Lady Creighton to invite Lady McElreath to attend as his and Miranda’s guest.
It was an invitation Lady McElreath could not and would not refuse. And one to which Lord McElreath could have no objection since it would cost him nothing. Because the Duke and Duchess of Sussex had asked that Lady McElreath be included as part of their invitation, they would, of course, contribute fifty pounds to Lady Creighton’s charity in Lady McElreath’s name.
Focusing his attention on Daniel, Alex didn’t hesitate. “Of course. I’ll be happy to do whatever you require of me.”
“We knew we could count on you.” Miranda beamed at him.
Alex looked askance at the duchess, ill at ease with Miranda’s abrupt about face. He glanced at Daniel.
“Allow us to take you to her,” Daniel said, following a step behind as Miranda placed her hand on Alex’s arm and began steering him toward Lady McElreath.
“Is she in need of financial assistance?” Alex asked. The McElreath’s precarious financial state was no secret and with Colin and Gillian in Austria, the other Free Fellows had promised to attend to Lady McElreath’s needs.
Daniel shook his head. “Not exactly.”
Alex expelled the breath he’d been holding. “I hope that means the earl has shown some self-restraint and judgment in Colin’s absence…”
Miranda rolled her eyes, glancing up at the frescoed ceiling as she attempted to muffle a sarcastic and decidedly unladylike snort. “It means nothing of the sort. McElreath is incapable of self-restraint or exercising good judgment when it comes to cards and spirits. He’s drinking as heavily and gambling as badly as ever.”
“His excessive gaming and drinking is a sickness,” Daniel reminded his wife.
Miranda nodded. “I know it’s a sickness, my love, and it’s not as if I don’t care what happens to the earl, but I care what happens to Lady McElreath and her children more. They’ve suffered as much, if not more than McElreath, through no fault of their own. And Colin has managed to amass a credible fortune despite his father’s frittering away his inheritance, only to watch a good portion of it go to support his mother and keep his father out of debtor’s prison. Not that he would ever begrudge his mother and siblings anything,” Miranda added. “It’s just so unfair…”
“Indeed it is,” Daniel agreed. “But there’s no need to fret over Colin. He’ll be fine.”
“Because he was fortunate to fall in love and marry an heiress…” Miranda replied.
Daniel discreetly placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back. “As was I, my love.”
Alex cleared this throat, reminding Daniel and Miranda that the air around them practically vibrated with passion and that they were not alone. “What about Lady McElreath?” Money flowed through his father’s fingers like water, but Colin was blessed with a Midas touch and the iron will necessary to preserve his legacy for future generations. But one evening of Earl McElreath’s prodigious gaming losses, could easily exceed the generous sum Colin had placed at his mother’s disposal each month.
“Colin left a larger than usual amount to cover his mother’s expenses,” Daniel replied. “And Miranda and I have been quietly purchasing as many of McElreath’s outstanding vowels and pawned heirlooms as we can,” He leaned closer to Alex and spoke in a low tone of voice to avoid being overheard in the crowded ballroom. “But this is out of our control… Unfortunately, several holders of McElreath’s vowels were unwilling to part with them at any price.”
Alex groaned. That did not bode well for Colin’s mother and siblings or his future inheritance. The only reason the holders of McElreath’s chits would choose to hang on to them instead of exchanging them for the cash the Duke and Duchess of Sussex offered in order to redeem them, was because McElreath had wagered objects, remaining family heirlooms, or property the holders believed more valuable than cash. But the earl couldn’t have much of value left to wager. “What has Lord McElreath gambled away this time?”
Alex didn’t realize they had reached their destination or that he had given voice to the question until Lady McElreath answered it.
“Liana.”
* * *
The sound of her name hit Alex like a fist to the gut, so hard his knees nearly buckled, leaving him stunned, breathless, and sick to the pit of his stomach.
“I do not know the details,” Lady McElreath explained, gazing up at Alex from her chair along the wall with eyes that were identical to Colin’s. “My husband denied alerting Fleet Street, but today’s edition of the Morning Chronicle carried an announcement of our daughter, Liana’s, impending marriage.”
“And while we know the Chronicle isn’t always the most accurate of newspapers, this time it appears the information is correct,” Miranda added.
“I made discreet inquiries,” Daniel offered, picking up the thread of conversation where Miranda left off. “The information came from Lady Liana’s intended husband. Unfortunately, he didn’t see fit to provide the details or the date of the impending nuptials. And no one I contacted appeared to know them.”
Alex glimpsed the shimmer of tears in Lady McElreath’s eyes. He didn’t wish to add to the lady’s distress, but in a society where the primary concern of aristocratic fathers of eligible daughters was to contract an advantageous marriage for those females, the question had to be asked. “Surely, Lord McElreath is aware of the details...”
Lady McElreath managed a sad smile. “I’ve no doubt Lord McElreath helped arrange the details. But nothing I said or did could induce him to divulge them to me…”
Alex was stunned by her admission. “What kind of man refuses to reveal the time and place of a daughter’s wedding to her own mother?”
“A desperate man who fears her mother may try to stop it,” Lady McElreath replied. “Because I informed my husband that I would do everything in my power to stop it.”
Alex glanced from Lady McElreath to the duke and duchess and back again. “How does your daughter feel about her upcoming union?”
“My daughter is a McElreath. She’ll endure whatever she has to endure, but she was taken
unawares. She’s never met her intended bridegroom and she had no idea her father had negotiated her marriage.” Lady McElreath shook her head. “There was no way to prepare her. She discovered her fate when she read the announcement of it in the Chronicle this morning. She’s terribly distressed. Like all young ladies, she knows she has no say in the matter, but like most young girls, she dreamed of marrying for love.”
Alex frowned. Lord McElreath was a spendthrift, a habitual drunkard and a dreadful gambler, but he was known to be a loving husband and father. He was not a womanizer and always displayed a genuine pride in and fondness for his children. He didn’t seem the sort of father who would disregard his daughter’s or his wife’s feelings in so important a matter. “It seems very out of character for Lord McElreath to behave in such a manner.”
“It’s entirely out of character,” Lady McElreath agreed, carefully dabbing her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.
“Lord McElreath is deeply in debt to a very unforgiving creditor—one who wants more than mere cash as repayment. Apparently, Lord McElreath sees this as the only solution to his problem,” Daniel told him.
“And because she disapproves, Lord McElreath is withholding the details from his wife as well as anyone else who might object to the ceremony,” Miranda added.
“He’s obviously desperate,” Alex commented.
“No more desperate than I,” Lady McElreath said softly.
“Then, it’s no coincidence that this is happening while Colin is in Vienna.”
“Not at all,” Daniel replied. “This creditor is a man of rank and position who has no need of money. He is in want of a wife whose family is in no position to ask too many questions about why.”
Dread washed over Alex. He could rule out the perennial fortune hunters, because everyone knew Lady Liana McElreath didn’t possess one, but there were any number of creditors on the prowl for a wife. Guilford. Houghton. Birmingham. Carville. Those were just a few of the names that immediately came to mind. And none of them would be the kind of husband Alex would want for any woman for whom he cared—and certainly not for a lovely innocent like Liana McElreath. “Who is she marrying?”
“Felix Rothermere, sixth Marquess of Rothermere.”
Good God! Alex sucked in a breath. In a city full of ne’er-do-wells and reprobates, Felix Rather Mean was the worst of the lot.
“Madam,” Alex promised, bowing low and taking the countess’s hand in his. “Ask of me what you will. I am at your service…”
Chapter Two
“Circumstances reveal us to others and still more to ourselves.”
—La Rochefoucauld, 1613-1680
“This was not a good idea,” Alex muttered, as he felt for the ledge of the third floor window with the toe of his boot.
“Have you got a better one?” Daniel asked.
“We could try coin…”
“We tried coin,” Daniel reminded him.
Alex glanced down and felt his stomach give a lurch. “Maybe we should try it again.”
“If people were willing to sell the information we need I would,” Daniel said. “But that wasn’t working because nobody is talking. The people who know what’s going one are willing to take our coin, but they’re not willing to talk about Rather Mean. So unless, you have a better idea…”
“I don’t.”
“Then, shh,” Daniel admonished in a forced whisper. “The last thing we need is for someone to hear us and call the watch.”
“The last thing we need is to fall. Having to explain to the watch is the least of my concerns,” Alex retorted in an equally forced whisper as he gingerly tested the ledge with his left foot before stepping on with his right.
Daniel’s whisper reached Alex from the roof above the window. “I thought you were an expert at this.”
“I’m an expert across the Channel where they tend to build wider ledges… And balconies.” Alex grunted with effort. Damn Georgian architecture. There was almost nothing to stand upon. “And weaker locks.”
“What about Dunbridge’s townhouse? You broke into it to steal his clothes to prevent his duel with Shepherdston while you were completely foxed.”
“These kinds of things are easier when you’re foxed,” Alex offered.
Daniel glanced down at the cobblestones far below and doubted it. “Why is that?”
“No fear. And we didn’t break into Dunbridge’s house. Barclay and I carried Dunbridge home from Madame Theo’s after he passed out,” Alex told him. “We used his key and went in the front door. As all sensible, sober men should do,” he added, gripping the brick edging around the window as he skillfully inserted a long, thin blade between the widows and flipped the latch.
“Rothermere doesn’t carry a key,” Daniel reminded him. “He has a staff with footmen and a butler on duty to open the front door for him.”
“Why didn’t you try bribing the staff? Like everyone else?” Alex paused before silently pushing the window open and disappearing inside. “Careful. It’s close quarters in here.” He stepped aside, making way for Daniel to enter. They knew the room was empty. They’d watched the footman who lived there change from his livery into his own clothes before leaving. It was Tuesday and Rothermere’s footman had the evening off. It hadn’t been easy to come by the information, but they’d managed to ferret it out of a housemaid who worked for Lord Melton three houses down the street. The housemaid keeping company with Lord Rothermere’s footman nearly every Tuesday evening.
“I did,” Daniel shot back. “I offered crowns and guineas to every domestic in every house on the street. How do you think I found out about the footman and the housemaid?”
“How many members of Rothermere’s staff yielded information?”
Daniel shook his head. “None.”
“Which is why you extended the offer to the surrounding households.”
“Yes.” Daniel glanced around the footman’s cramped living quarters. “I never dreamed a man like Rothermere could inspire such loyalty among his staff.”
“It isn’t loyalty,” Alex picked up the livery the footman had discarded, sniffed it, then rolled the uniform into a bundle, tying it with the stockings. “It’s fear. His soul, if he has one, is as black as night. And everyone with a close association to him knows it. Fear and intimidation are the tools he uses to get what he needs from his staff. I shudder to think of what they endure to earn his meager wages.”
Daniel watched as Alex appropriated the footman’s clothing. “What do you plan to do with that?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know, but if this plan fails, a set of Rothermere’s livery may come in handy when we devise the next one. I wanted to make certain this fellow has more than a passing acquaintance with bathwater.”
“You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question.
“Once or twice. In France. And French footmen reek of perfume and other less pleasant odors.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Not that I have to worry. He appears to be more your size.”
It was Daniel’s turn to shudder. “I hope we don’t have to devise another plan. I hope we accomplish our mission with this one. But, you’re right. If this doesn’t work, we may need the livery.” He glanced at Alex. “And as I’m supposed to be a fair tactician, I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it.”
“You’re a master tactician. And you know it. It’s just that I’ve a bit more experience at housebreaking and appropriating men’s clothing.” Alex fished a gold sovereign out of his pocket and placed it on the chair where the livery had been.
“What’s that for?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t want the footman punished for the loss of his livery. This way he can replace it.” Alex pulled a black silk scarf from his pocket and tied it over his nose, using it to obscure his facial features, then waited while Daniel did the same. “Now, let’s find Rothermere and make certain he doesn’t appear at his wedding before our luck runs out and someone alerts the watch.”
A half hour later, th
ey’d stealthily worked their way through the house from top to bottom and found no sign of the would-be bridegroom.
Alex cursed beneath his breath before stating the obvious. “He’s gone.”
“His household staff wasn’t lying when they informed my man that the master of the house wasn’t in residence,” Daniel said.
It didn’t appear as if anyone was in residence—except a skeleton staff. The master bedchamber was empty. As was the adjoining mistress’s bedchamber. There were no signs a wedding was about to take place and none of the usual preparations had been made to welcome a new Lady Rothermere. The mistress’s chamber hadn’t been cleaned or aired in weeks, maybe months. There was an inch or more of dust on the furniture. No one had laid a fire in the fireplace and the rooms were devoid of feminine touches or fresh flowers.
“It doesn’t look as if he intends to bring a bride here.” Alex ran a hand through his hair in a show of frustration. “It doesn’t look as if he intends to return here either.” There was very little evidence of Rothermere’s habitation at all.
“He’s staying somewhere else,” Daniel concluded.
“Yes,” Alex confirmed. “And wherever he is, he has McElreath’s vowels, the special license, and the marriage contracts with him.” They were standing in the shadows of Rothermere’s study, having already searched all the bedchambers upstairs and everywhere else they could think of except the kitchens and the butler’s and housekeeper’s quarters belowstairs.
“That makes our task more complex,” Daniel said. “But not impossible.”
“The clock is ticking, Daniel…”
“Yes, it is.” Daniel paused to take stock of everything they’d learned so far.
“You don’t suppose he intends to spirit her away to Scotland?”
Daniel shook his head. “If that was the case, why bother to post an announcement in the Chronicle?”
“Other than to force McElreath’s hand?”
“There is that,” Daniel agreed. “But Scotland is a long way from here and I have the feeling Rothermere wants to marry her in London. He likes his routine. He’s a creature of habit.” As well as a creature that preferred the cover of darkness. “The law requires a morning wedding, so he’ll arrange a late morning wedding. He’s going to be very eager to consummate the marriage. He’s gone to a great deal of trouble to blackmail Lord McElreath into this and he’ll not want to waste any time collecting his due.”
A Bachelor Still Page 3
