“I can hardly believe something so ghastly could happen here,” I said. “And then all those strangers milling about—that Bow Street Runner and the coroner, to say nothing of that detestable cousin of Cliburne’s. I have no idea what he was doing here.”
Helen sat down on the bed beside me. “Beningbrough? Oh, Teddy sent for him, I’m sure. Teddy idolizes Beningbrough.”
Even the mere mention of the man seemed to bring out the worst in me. “Idolizes that overbearing ass? Why?”
“Teddy says Beningbrough is the most loyal fellow he knows, and pluck to the backbone. It’s a point of pride with Lord Beningbrough that he’s never backed down from a fight.”
“What an idiotic thing to pride oneself on. What if his adversary should be bigger, or a better fighter?”
“I don’t think that’s likely. According to Teddy, Beningbrough is so handy with his fives, no one at Gentleman Jackson’s will even spar with him anymore.”
A vision of the tall, muscular marquess stripped to his shirtsleeves in the boxing ring popped into my head, making my pulse skip. “Is that so?” I scoffed, irritated with myself. “He may have been lucky so far, but someday he’s liable to wind up with that fine face of his permanently rearranged.”
“But that’s another reason Teddy idolizes him. I don’t believe Beningbrough would care.”
I rolled my eyes. “How typical. He’d sooner suffer than show a little humility. If that’s not the height of foolish masculine pride!”
“Oh, Barbara. As if you haven’t gone without supper for three days running, or chosen to stay confined to your room when the rest of the family went to the theater, merely because you refused to apologize to Papa when he gave you the chance.”
I straightened indignantly. “That’s different. Those were matters of principle. That time I went without supper, for instance...that wasn’t pride, it was because Papa said I’d taken the tea cake Mama had set aside for him, and I hadn’t. Edmund had. I still had mine from when the tray first went ’round.”
“What difference does it make in the end whether you took the cake or Edmund took it? Papa gave you the chance to apologize for talking back to him, and you wouldn’t. You’d rather suffer than humble yourself the tiniest bit.” With a frown, Helen returned to her dressing table.
“It was a matter of principle,” I repeated, wondering why my ethics sounded like little more than stubbornness in Helen’s version of the events. Just because she was pretty and could charm her way out of any difficulty didn’t mean everyone could sail through life as easily. Some of us had little more than our dignity to cling to.
Recalling my mission, I made a grab for her evening gloves, and in the brief instant she had her back turned I pulled out the note and thrust it under me, sitting on it like a brood hen on a clutch of eggs. “Whether he’s Cliburne’s idol or no,” I said to cover up the faint creak of the bedstead, “Beningbrough is far too high in the instep. Did you know he thinks himself too good to marry?”
“He is awfully handsome, though, isn’t he?” Sighing, Helen picked up her ivory-backed hairbrush and drew it pensively through her curls. “All the men in Teddy’s family are handsome.”
“It’s obvious Beningbrough knows it, too.”
Helen twisted to face me. “It’s funny to think who his father is, isn’t it? To look at him, one would never guess it.”
“What do you mean? He looks exactly like the duke.”
“Oh, Barbara, don’t play coy. You know what I mean.” She smiled to herself. “I wonder if Beningbrough also has unnatural tastes in the bedroom?”
At such broad talk, my cheeks warmed. In fact, such a wave of heat rushed over me, I had to resist the urge to fan myself. “It’s none of our business what his tastes are, in the bedroom or elsewhere,” I said primly. “Though, really, I can’t think why he should have. It’s not as if Papa is a drunkard, though Grandpapa Leonard certainly was. And Grandmama Merton had a scandalously colorful reputation, while I’m sure Mama would never leave Papa, let alone take to the stage.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“But enough about Beningbrough.” I didn’t like the strange way the conversation was making me feel. “What about Cliburne? You must have been so thankful to have him here tonight.”
Though Cliburne might not be the brightest glowworm in the hedge, he was sweet and biddable, and he was obviously claiming responsibility for Sam’s death just to shield Helen. I expected her to look either pleased he’d manfully assumed the blame or worried sick over the possible consequences, but to my surprise, Helen’s expression turned wistful. “Oh, Barbara, how did things become so complicated?”
I frowned in confusion. “Helen, if there’s anything you know about Sam’s death—anything that might help Cliburne—”
She turned away and set her hairbrush back on her dressing table. “It happened the way Teddy said,” she said tightly, her back to me. “I don’t know anything more.”
I quickly reached under me, seized the slip of paper from John Mainsforth, and scanned it. Butler’s pantry, 11:00. Leave the back door unlocked. In a flash, I shoved the note back into Helen’s discarded glove. Mission accomplished.
“Very well, then, it was an accident,” I said to Helen’s back. “You saw it happen?”
“No. I mean, yes.” She turned toward me again, her face pale but mulish. “It wasn’t Teddy’s fault.”
And that was why we would never be close. Helen looked so literally tight-lipped, I knew at once she had no intention of confiding in me, either about Sam’s murder or about why she was allowing poor Cliburne to take the blame. Disappointed, I stood and reached for my candle. “Fine. I suppose I should be getting ready for bed anyway. It’s been a long, trying day.”
She made no move to detain me—and no wonder, given that it was already a quarter to eleven and she had a rendezvous planned with John Mainsforth.
“Good night, then, Barbara.” Her voice sounded small and mournful.
As frustrated as I was with her secretiveness, some strange impulse made me cross to her and give her a hug. I don’t know why I did it, for I wasn’t normally the hugging type, and heaven knew it wasn’t easy being Helen’s sister. She immediately hugged me back so tightly that my throat constricted, and she looked equally misty when I drew away and said softly, “Good night, Helen.”
It was always hard to tell how many of Helen’s tears were real and how many were merely conjured for effect. Yet, as I let myself out of her room, I had the unsettling impression her life might not be as enviable as I’d believed.
I crossed the corridor, slipped into my bedroom and hurried to the window. Lifting the sash, I leaned out and looked up and down the gaslit street. “Ben?”
A tall, hatless figure stepped out from the shadows beneath my window. “Down here.”
I’m sure it was only the excitement of being party to a murder investigation, or perhaps the effect of the cool night air, but a rush of exhilaration seized me. “I saw the note,” I whispered down to him. “It said ‘Butler’s pantry, eleven o’clock.’”
“Well done. I want to hear what they say to each other. Will you let me in?”
It was after dark, and there wasn’t a chaperone in sight. I barely knew him, and what little I did know, I disliked. To complicate matters, there was a murderer running loose in the vicinity, identity unknown.
Yet for some reason I didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll be right down.”
Chapter Four
Barbara
“Isn’t the butler’s pantry kept locked?” Ben whispered. He was following me through the darkened dining room, carrying the candle I’d brought down with me.
“Not after dinner. The footman doesn’t lock up the plate until he makes his final rounds at midnight.”
“Hmm. I wonder how John knew that.”
The butler’s pantry was below stairs, off the back stairs landing, halfway between the ground floor and the servants’ quarters. I swung open the doo
r, revealing the narrow little room. On one wall of shelves stood our silver, from the dining room candlesticks to Mama’s engraved tea service, while the shelves on the other wall held the china and crystal. A stout linen cupboard occupied the far end of the room.
Ben held the candle aloft. He had nice hands—big and strong, with long, graceful fingers. He wore a heavy gold signet ring, the only ornament I could detect amidst the plainness of his clothing. “Not many places to hide in here,” he said, surveying the room. He peered into the corners, studied the shelves and checked inside the cupboard. Then he snuffed out the candle between his finger and thumb, plunging the room into blackness.
“What are you—?” Alarmed, I realized I was alone in a dark, out-of-the-way room with a near-stranger a scarce two and a half hours after a murder had been committed, and not another soul knew where I was.
“If they spot the light, they’ll know someone is here.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Just then, we heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked about wildly for a place to conceal myself, but in the darkness I couldn’t see where to go.
“In here,” Ben said, seizing my arm and pushing me into the linen cupboard. He stepped in after me, pulling the door closed behind us.
“But—”
“Shh.”
I held my tongue as directed. It was pitch-black and cramped in the cupboard, with only a narrow space between the doors and the shelving, but I could sense him beside me—his greater size, his body heat, the barely audible rhythm of his breathing.
Presently I heard the creak of the pantry door, then voices.
“Do you have it?” demanded John Mainsforth’s smooth baritone.
“Not yet,” Helen answered in an unsteady voice. “I haven’t been able to leave the house. I was going to tell Sam as much, but...” She gave a sob, and for once it sounded genuine.
“We mustn’t keep them waiting,” John said sharply. “It’s clear enough they mean business.”
“I know. I was planning to slip out this afternoon, but Teddy called. So I was going to have Sam stall them with a note, but I couldn’t even give him the message because Teddy stayed to dinner. Then Sam must have come looking for me, and they must have followed him here, and...oh, it’s too awful to think about! Poor Sam. What a perfectly nightmarish day this has been! And to top it all off, just when I finally had a moment to myself, Barbara came to my bedroom to pump me for information about Beningbrough.”
I nearly made a squawk of objection, but Ben sensed it in time to clap a hand over my mouth.
“Isn’t there anything you can give them?” John asked. “A piece of jewelry or something else of value?”
“I was going to pawn my pearls, though they’re not worth much, especially since I’ve broken the catch. Barbara is the one with all the money. She was always Grandmama’s favorite, so of course she got the fortune.”
I was surprised to hear myself described as anyone’s favorite. I’d always assumed Grandmama Merton left me her fortune because I was the eldest girl.
“Well, can’t you borrow the money from her?” John asked.
“From Barbara?” Helen sounded utterly flabbergasted. “You don’t know my sister. She already thinks me a feather-brain. If she knew I was being blackmailed—”
Blackmailed! I gave such a start, I nearly toppled against the cupboard door. Ben’s arm came around me, as strong as iron, holding me steady.
“I still say you should go to Teddy for the money,” John urged Helen. “Just make up some excuse. He has a generous allowance.”
“Are you mad? I couldn’t lie to him.”
John gave a humorless chuckle. “I think it’s a little late to develop that particular scruple, don’t you?”
“You know what I mean.” Helen sounded uncharacteristically waspish. “I’d sooner die than have the truth come out.”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t two ha’pennies to rub together. You’ll have to give them something, even if it’s only to buy more time.”
Helen let out another sob, and I could picture her perfectly, small and blonde and heartbreakingly beautiful, weeping her way past Mr. Mainsforth’s impatience. “Oh, this is all my fault! I knew it was wrong, and now look what’s happened to Sam—”
“Don’t start crying again,” John told her sternly, and to my astonishment Helen stopped. “The pearls will have to do.”
She sniffled. “Very well. Wait for me at the back door. I’ll fetch the necklace and slip it out to you.”
There were footsteps again, then the creak of the pantry door, and the voices were gone.
“Well,” Ben said after we’d waited a sufficient spell to ensure the coast was clear, “I think that explains what happened to Sam. Teddy didn’t kill anyone.”
“Neither did Helen. And John knew it! He might have said as much, given that his own brother is under suspicion.”
“You forget that your sister is being blackmailed. How can John tell what he knows without giving away her secret?”
How, indeed—and what was her secret? It couldn’t simply be the tryst with Sam at Hookham’s lending library, since Cliburne knew about that. And how had Cliburne’s brother John become involved? “So what do we do now?”
“We find out who’s blackmailing your sister. I’ll follow John and see where he takes the pearls.”
A chill went through me. “Do you really think you should? It could be dangerous. Whoever they are, they’ve already killed one man.”
“I can take care of myself,” Ben said coolly, and instantly I recalled what Helen had told me scarcely half an hour before. It’s a point of pride with him that he’s never backed down from a fight.
I shivered, but who was I to object? Ben was nothing to me. I’d met him only a few hours before. If he wanted to risk his life, it was none of my affair. I offered no protest when his hand left my waist to reach for the latch on the cupboard doors.
There was a pause before he swore. “Damn! I can’t get the doors open.” He rattled the latch in the darkness.
“You’re joking.”
“Do I sound as if I find it amusing? This cursed cupboard only opens from the outside.”
“You mean we’re locked in here?” I tried it myself, but he was right. The latch wouldn’t open. “Drat! I suppose we’ll simply have to wait until someone finds us.” I did my best to sound annoyed, but inside I was secretly relieved he couldn’t follow John Mainsforth.
“How long until that’s likely to happen?”
“Don’t worry, we won’t end up the skeletons in the family cupboard. We can attract the footman’s attention when he makes his rounds locking up for the night. Frye won’t tattle on us, either...though of course we’re going to look a pair of priceless idiots, trapped in a cupboard together.” I frowned into the darkness.
“But the blackmailers...”
“Fortunately, there should be other ways to find out who’s responsible for Sam’s death. John must know the identity of the blackmailer, and so must Helen. She might even have threatening letters hidden somewhere.”
“I know, but...damn!”
Blackmailer or no blackmailer, it was rather ungallant of Ben to show so much eagerness to escape my company. “You could mind your language, you know. There is a lady present.”
“You’d say damn too, if you were a few inches taller. Not only is John getting away, but there’s no room to stand up straight in this cursed cupboard. I have to keep my head ducked and my shoulders stooped, and I’m already developing a crick in my neck.”
“Well, sit on the floor, or plant your feet farther apart and lean your back against the side of the cupboard.”
“You happen to be in the way, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“And what, I’m too plump to maneuver around?”
“I didn’t say that,” Ben replied irritably. “Good lord, why does everything have to mean a quarrel with you?”
“With me? I think I’m showing
remarkable forbearance, given that it was your idea to hide in here.”
“Just hold still.” He moved about in the darkness, squeezing against me as he worked himself into a more comfortable position.
The air left my lungs in an ooph when he nearly knocked me over.
“Sorry.”
Then he was all but wrapped around me, braced against the side of the cupboard with his legs extended on either side of mine. He’d slithered in so tightly that I had my hip pressed to his thighs, one breast brushing his arm. It was almost like being in an embrace.
He sighed with relief. “That’s better.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with better, but it was certainly more intimate. He was all hard muscle, and for someone who dressed like a stable hand, he smelled wonderful, like new leather and shaving soap. His warm breath fanned my ear. Realizing we might be in for a long wait, I sighed and relaxed against him.
Unfortunately, after less than a minute he nudged me away, and I all but fell against the opposite wall of the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
“Just...give me some room.” His voice sounded curiously strangled.
“What? I was there first! Besides, you’re bigger than I am. You’re already taking up more than your share of space.” Stubbornly, I squeezed back against him.
He made a small sound of protest, and in the same instant I realized why he’d pushed me away. Something was prodding my hip, a hard, insistent length that hadn’t been there a minute before. It took a good five seconds for its significance to register, then I cried “Oh!” and jumped as far away from him as the close confines allowed.
There was a brief, embarrassed silence. “I’m sorry. It just...happened.”
“It’s all right.” My face burned, while a different and curious heat made the oddest parts of my body tingle. “I should have been more careful to keep my distance.”
“If you want to slap my face once we’re out of here, I completely understand.”
“No, don’t give it another thought.”
Alyssa Everett Page 5
