Thornbrook Park (A Thornbrook Park Romance)

by Sherri Browning

  “Is that all supposed to sound comforting?” Marcus cocked a brow. The bell rang, interrupting them, and a minute later, Eve was standing right in front of him, perfectly safe. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and keep her there. Instead, he simply said hello.

  “Marcus,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “You didn’t expect me to let you conduct your operation without me? My French accent is much better than Reilly’s. I actually know some French.”

  “But—there’s no need. Tom and I have gone over everything.”

  “And Tom has gone over everything with me. If someone is going to be next to you coaxing a confession from cold-blooded killers, I want it to be me. Please, Eve. Let me help you.”

  She looked to Tom first, as if she needed his permission.

  “He’ll be good in the role. You two are more natural together.” Tom shrugged.

  “You’re not staying at Averford House?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “I mean to get a room at the Langham. It’s expensive, but I can manage for a day or two. Things didn’t exactly go well with Sophia. She has been tolerating me while her friends, the Dovedales, are visiting, but we’ve agreed that I will be leaving Thornbrook Park in a matter of days.”

  “Leaving?” He closed the distance and reached out to her, unable to help himself. Even the feel of her sleeve under his hand was nearly too much to bear. How he wanted her in his arms! “Eve, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s for the best.” She smiled. “I didn’t plan to stay there forever. I’ve taken a position as the Dovedales’ governess, provided I survive today.”

  “You’ll survive. I’ll see to it myself. A governess? Not what I expected. Does this mean you will be in London?” He tried not to look too hopeful.

  “Yes. In time, maybe Sophia will forgive me. Have you spoken to your brother?”

  “Ha.” Marcus shook his head. “Does Gabriel have the power of speech? I hope I didn’t hurt him too badly.”

  “His nose wasn’t broken, no loose teeth. Thank goodness. Can you imagine how that might have affected his self-esteem?”

  They laughed. It felt wonderful to laugh with her again. It was a start.

  “I’m glad. I didn’t stay around to see how he fared. I felt the need to depart immediately. I went to see Brandon, and then I came straight here to London. Brandon’s thriving, at least. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get the rest of the Coopers settled, but there’s time to work something out.”

  “You’re brothers. He will have to forgive you. I guess we really made a muddle of things.” Eve’s eyes were full of compassion. She really did care for him, if nothing else.

  “I did. I should have told my brother from the start that I had no intention of marrying Lady Alice. It was about time I set him straight. Unfortunately, you had to pay the price for my bad judgment.”

  “We both made bad decisions. Do you mean it? That you won’t marry Alice? Sophia is still counting on you.”

  “She’ll give up eventually. I couldn’t possibly marry Alice. Not while my heart is engaged elsewhere.”

  “I hate to interrupt, but we’re running late.” Tom Reilly had sneaked out of the office at some point during Marcus’s conversation with Eve and now ducked his head back in. “We’ll have to iron out the rest of the details in the car on the way over.”

  ***

  Eve struggled to listen while they finalized their plans. She was to act her part as she’d established it with Leona Lawson, with Marcus playing along as her Comte Lestrange. Detective Brian Davis, an officer from Scotland Yard, would be going in with them, posing as the Comte’s solicitor. And if he could manage it, Tom planned to sneak in the back while they had Leona Lawson distracted and search the place to see if he could find anything incriminating.

  All she could think about were Marcus’s words—that he couldn’t possibly marry Alice while his heart was engaged elsewhere. With her? He had to mean that his heart was with her. He loved her? Truly? She couldn’t wait to get him alone. They had so much to discuss.

  “Comte Louis Lestrange,” Marcus said. “A ridiculous name. It sounds too made up.”

  “I did make it up. I had to think of something fast, and it just came to me while I was in conversation with Leona. I figured she would be less likely to know a foreign visitor, and he had to sound wealthy. My French is a little out of practice.”

  “We’ll have to remedy that.” Marcus flashed her a grin that sent a tingle through her veins from top to toes. Paris? With Marcus? What a beautiful dream.

  “We slipped some items in the paper, gossip section, to make it more believable. I don’t think we’ll have any problems,” Tom said. “We checked out this Mr. Royce she mentions. He does not exist. At least, as far as we can tell. Our best guess is that she’s bringing in an actor or a cohort to pose as this Mr. Royce to complete the con.”

  “We just need her, or Royce, to confirm that they are selling you shares of the mine. We might be able to catch her on fraud with that.”

  “Don’t we need to prove that she doesn’t actually own the mine?” Eve asked.

  “It should be easy enough to track that down once we get her to seal the deal. Overall, it would be best if we could somehow link her to the murder or catch her in a confession that she killed her husband, but that’s not as likely,” Detective Davis said. “The more solid our case, the better chance we have of her being convicted and imprisoned. And of course, we need to find her partner in crime.”

  “Oliver Lawson is still out there somewhere.” Eve tried not to sound too concerned. Perhaps he had given up on trying to kill her.

  “Once we have the wife in custody, he’s sure to come around,” Tom said, either to comfort her or to keep Marcus calm. “There has still been no sign of him. If he has managed to sneak into the house, we’ll have to deal with that surprise as it unfolds.”

  “But there won’t be much point in him trying to keep you quiet once their scheme has been revealed,” Detective Davis said. “I believe you will be quite safe after today, provided all goes well.”

  Eve liked the sound of that, and so did Marcus, it seemed, from the way he laced fingers with hers.

  “Here we are. Are you ready to be my paramour, ma chérie?” he asked, a tender look in his eyes.

  “I’m ready,” she said, though she knew he referred only to their playacting for Mrs. Lawson. “Let’s go, Comte Lestrange.”

  “Allons!” Marcus assumed character. He’d donned a cloak over his formal wear and added a silk top hat. Eve wasn’t sure he looked French, but the cloak and hat did add a touch of extravagance.

  They stepped out in front of the Strumps’ house, and he surprised her by turning her in his arms and delivering a slow, lingering kiss, taking her breath away.

  “For effect,” he whispered in her ear before releasing her. “In case anyone is watching.”

  “Of course.” Eve took a minute to find her footing and head to the front door.

  Tom stayed with the driver in the car but Detective Davis got out and followed along, trying to look the dutiful servant to his comte.

  Eve rang the bell. Mr. Gerald, the butler, answered. “I hope you’ve been expecting us,” she said.

  “Yes. Mrs. Strump is in the drawing room. I will show you in.”

  He led them past the parlor where Eve had been seated before and down a short corridor to a drawing room adorned with even more gilded furnishings, knickknacks, and figurines. Right inside the door stood a miniature statue of a naked cherub—gilded, of course.

  “Mrs. Strump,” Eve said. “How are you? Better, I hope, than the last time we met?”

  Leona sat alone on the rococo sofa, the cherub motif repeated in carvings on the legs of the end tables and even smaller gilded cherubs on the tabletops. No sign of Mr. Royce.

  “One day at a
time,” Leona said, rising for introductions. “You know how it is, unfortunately.”

  “Ah, but past misfortune has given way to new happiness,” Eve said, a little too gaily perhaps. “Now I have my comte. Might I present Comte Louis Lestrange?”

  Gerald had taken Marcus’s cloak and hat, but Marcus looked every bit as suave without the trappings. Had he darkened his hair? Eve was surprised she hadn’t noticed it earlier, but she’d been so overwhelmed simply to see him again.

  “Enchanté, ma jolie.” Marcus took Leona’s hand and kissed it. “Et, may I present, mon avocat, Monsieur Bolange.” His accent was impeccable, Eve noted. Perhaps they would pull this off.

  Detective Davis stepped forward and gave a curt bow.

  “Oh, your avocat? I didn’t know we were expecting a third. Mr. Royce couldn’t make it, but he has left me his power of attorney. Would you like to see the papers? I’m free to act on his behalf.”

  “Louis won’t go anywhere without his solicitor these days,” Eve stage-whispered. “The divorce, you know. Can’t be too careful, though he barely speaks a word of English. And your brother? Will he be joining us?”

  Leona shook her head. “Sadly, no. He has also been detained.”

  Eve felt relieved not to have to see Mr. Lawson again, particularly since he could have recognized Marcus, but it would have been better if they’d been able to catch the Lawsons together.

  “Shall we talk business, then?” Eve said, eager to move things along.

  “Non.” Marcus clapped his hands, surprising her. “No business wizout ze pleasure first, eh? Bolange, le vin, s’il vous plait.”

  Eve guessed he was giving Tom time to try to find a way in through the back, and keeping the butler in the room with them wasn’t a bad idea, either. Detective Davis stepped forward with the case he held and extracted a bottle of Bordeaux. Eve wondered what else he had in there—handcuffs, a weapon? She could hope.

  “What a lovely idea.” Leona nodded in agreement. “It’s a little early for wine, perhaps, but why not? A toast to our new venture. Gerald, open the wine and bring the glasses.”

  While Gerald poured, Marcus pulled Eve closer to him, a possessive hand around her waist, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Ma petite chou-fleur. You will have to excuse me, Madame Strump. I haven’t seen enough of ma chérie these past few days. Nous parlon de diamants?”

  “We’ve been together all morning, darling,” Eve said, shaking her head. “Not in front of Mrs. Strump. We’re doing business. I’m sorry, Mrs. Strump. Frenchmen.”

  “Oh, I understand. I don’t mind at all.”

  “He wants to know more about the diamond mine,” Eve translated, taking her best guess.

  “Certainly, shall we sit?” Leona gestured at the sofa and settled in a chair next to them. Detective Davis remained standing, causing Leona to look at him.

  “Oh, Monsieur Bolange never sits in the Comte’s presence without permission.” Eve made it up as she went along. “And he won’t have any wine.”

  The butler passed around the glasses to the rest of them.

  “A votre santé!” Marcus said, raising his glass. They all followed suit. Eve took a small sip, eager to keep her wits about her.

  Leona showed no such inclination, taking a hearty gulp. Perhaps she needed fortification to con a fortune out of supposedly unsuspecting fools. “Mmm. Very nice vintage.”

  “Maintenant, de retour aux affaires. Les diamants?”

  “Ah, now he is ready to talk business,” Eve translated.

  “Excellent.” Leona downed her wine, put down the glass, picked up her own case of papers, and pulled out a map. “Here’s the mine.”

  She pointed to a spot, circled in ink, in central India.

  “Golkonda. I know it.” Eve nodded. “I’ve never been, but I remember Ben embarking on a trip there once. Perhaps it was with your Mr. Royce.”

  “He does spend time there to check on operations. Maintenance costs are low, and workers come cheap. Yields are high, though, and so are profits.” Next she presented some papers that Marcus pretended to look over carefully before handing them to Detective Davis.

  Davis nodded at Marcus, and Marcus looked back to Leona. “Impressive.”

  “You’ll get a twenty percent return on investment in the worst of times, Comte Lestrange. And in the best? I’ve seen as much as forty percent.”

  Davis leaned over and whispered in Marcus’s ear. Marcus pretended to be annoyed and waved him off. “He says zis is unheard of, ze forty percent.”

  Leona nodded. “I know it’s hard to believe, but we’re talking diamonds, Comte. And you know the value of diamonds, I’m sure. With such yields as this.”

  For the pièce de résistance, Leona pulled out a small, blue velvet pouch and dumped the contents on the table. Diamonds. A fortune’s worth, if they were real. Davis produced a jeweler’s loupe and examined one of the larger stones, then nodded at Marcus.

  “I am, how do you say, windblown by zese results, Madame Strump.”

  “I think he means blown away,” Eve offered, smiling at Marcus. He was quite the charlatan. She would have to keep that in mind.

  “Yes, of course. So was I, at first. But as I was telling your… um, Mrs. Kendal, we bought this house with our profits from the mine. A lowly solicitor can’t afford such splendor, as you can imagine.” She gestured around her. “No offense to Monsieur Bolange.”

  Eve’s gaze followed Leona’s waving arms around the room and noticed the bookshelf across the way. It was only a quarter of the way filled, which was no surprise. But at the end of one shelf, holding up a few volumes of law manuals, was a lone gilded bookend. A monkey. Eve knew then that they could tie Leona Lawson to the murder of Edgar Strump.

  She breathed deeply to calm her nerves as her heartbeat sped to double time. She nudged Marcus and tried to gesture, but he was engaging Leona in conversation about yields and ratios, and how much he could possibly invest at once without a report being filed to draw attention.

  Eve got up to stretch. “Oh, that wine is making me sleepy. Forgive me, darling, I think I need to take a turn about the room.”

  “Go on.” Leona waved her off. “Your comte and I will talk business while you walk.”

  Eve strolled over and casually lifted the gilded monkey off the shelf, taking care that the books didn’t topple behind it. Yes, it had considerable weight.

  “What a strange bookend,” Eve said, interrupting the conversation to show the others. “Have you a pair? Louis collects curiosities, do you not, mon ange? He would be interested in purchasing them, perhaps.”

  She brought the bookend over to show him, and Leona bristled uncomfortably in her chair.

  “What do you think, Monsieur Bolange?” Marcus handed Detective Davis the monkey bookend. “Should we offer a fair price?”

  They never even had to complete the mine transaction. In a flash, Detective Davis drew a pistol and dropped his bag.

  Leona’s eyes went wide. Oh yes, she knew. Eve had found proof that the murder weapon had come from the Strumps’ house. Leona’s reaction confirmed all suspicion. She bolted from the room toward the back of the house, but Tom Reilly brought her back into the room not a minute later, holding her arms pinned behind her back. He must have been lying in wait after getting a look around the place. Davis shackled her and sat her back down in the overstuffed white chair trimmed in gold braid.

  “I didn’t kill anyone, especially not my husband,” she blurted out.

  “Because your husband is still alive. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Lawson?” Tom asked.

  “I–I don’t know what you mean.” Her face registered alarm as she realized that he called her Mrs. Lawson instead of Mrs. Strump.

  “Your marriage to Edgar Strump was never legal,” Davis observed. “We have fraud charges stemming from that, at the very least, but a little more
investigation into this diamond-mine fiasco should net more charges. And then we have murder…”

  “I got lucky sneaking in the back way,” Tom added. “I found what must have been Mr. Strump’s study. The murder certainly occurred there. There’s a pool of dried blood on a carpet hidden under another rug. In the desk, I found papers to connect the Lawsons and Mr. Strump to a con operation involving the mine, plus lists of investors. Oh, we have a solid case, Mrs. Lawson. A very solid case, I assure you.”

  Mrs. Lawson’s eyes widened with the sudden realization that she was facing prison. “But I didn’t kill him. It was Oliver. All of it was Oliver’s idea. Once that woman came asking questions, she made Edgar suspicious. When Edgar confronted Oliver… And now Oliver’s left me here to take the blame, just like he did ten years ago.”

  “And where is Mr. Lawson now?” Marcus asked.

  “I don’t know. I swear! He left ages ago, after killing Edgar, to take care of her.” She pointed at Eve. “With all those questions she asked, he feared she would go to the authorities and ruin our lives with another investigation. But clearly, she’s still alive and he never came back. Maybe you should ask her what she has done with my Oliver. Did you kill him, Mrs. Kendal? Before he could get you? Is that it?”

  “I have no idea where your husband went after he tried to attack me,” Eve said, smiling at Marcus. “Lucky for me, I had someone to look out for me.”

  “It was my pleasure, my little cauliflower.” Marcus wrapped a protective arm around her waist and Eve didn’t mind it at all.

  “Ah, petite chou-fleur. I was wondering what that particular term of endearment meant. I couldn’t come up with the translation.”

  “It’s the only French endearment I could remember on the spot.”

  “You’re not even French!” Leona gasped, insult added to injury.

  After that, it didn’t take much to get the whole story out of Leona Lawson. How Edgar Strump had kept watch for potential investors. How Oliver Lawson would explain the operation and show off a real working mine in India, claiming ownership, and then display the diamonds they supposedly mined out, actually purchased at a deep discount from a past associate, a London fence.