“Good. You must keep this our secret, Frye, but I need you to carry a message there for me.”
Chapter Six
Ben
Having promised Barbara I would keep mum about the blackmail plot, I couldn’t tell Teddy or my uncle anything of the conversation I’d overheard between John and Lady Helen. But I did tell them I’d come across some confidential information that might bode well for Teddy if matters actually came to a trial, and that I was in the process of investigating it. Uncle Daventry looked visibly relieved and was understanding enough not to press me for details.
“D’you see, Ben?” Teddy said as the two of us left the well-worn comfort of his father’s study. “I knew I was doing the right thing, keeping Helen’s name out of this mess.”
I frowned at his misplaced confidence. “Teddy, perhaps you should prepare yourself for the possibility your bride-to-be isn’t completely innocent in all this.”
Teddy shook his head. “You wouldn’t say that if you really knew Helen. I daresay her sister could commit murder if she had to, and barely turn a hair. Barbara has backbone enough for most anything. But Helen? She wouldn’t say boo to a goose.”
I slanted a look at his open, amiable face. Even if I’d been at liberty to tell him about the blackmail scheme, I doubted I’d have the heart to disillusion him. As badly as Teddy might need a dose of reality, it’d be too much like telling a small child there were no such things as fairies. He would just have to find out about his intended the hard way.
I changed the subject. “So, is anyone courting Lady Barbara?”
Teddy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that which way the wind blows? Now that you mention it, she does seem your type. You always did like those tall, whiskey-voiced girls.”
“Don’t be a sapskull. I’m not interested in her.”
“Are you sure? Because she reminds me a bit of that opera dancer you were parading around last year, the one with the long legs and the big—”
“I tell you, I’m not interested in Lady Barbara. I only asked because...” Now, why had I asked if anyone was courting her? “Because I’m trying to get to the bottom of this business with the Woodfords’ footman, and I need to know if there are any suspicious characters lurking about.”
“Ah, I see.” Teddy looked faintly disappointed, almost as if he’d been hoping I’d be fool enough to fall for a termagant like Barbara. “No, she hasn’t any suitors I’m aware of. Actually, about the same time I offered for Helen, some small-minded gossipmonger took the notion I’d been dangling after Barbara myself and ran the most spiteful drawing in the Times. It showed her flinging away a dunce cap while I was leaving church with a bride on my arm, a sour look on my face, and my pockets stuffed with milk jugs—as if to say I’d only been after cream-pot love. As far as I know neither Barbara nor Helen ever saw it, thank heavens, but I’d like to darken the daylights of whoever drew that caricature. He made it look as if I’d been after Barbara and her money.”
“And had you been?” The question came out more sharply than I intended. “Not after her money, of course, but after Barbara?”
Teddy blinked. “Barbara? Good Lord, no. She’s eligible enough, don’t get me wrong, but to be perfectly frank, that girl unnerves me. With Helen at least I expect to wear the breeches in the family, but Barbara is so sure of herself, half the time I can’t even think what to say to her. And her looks come on rather strong too, if you know what I mean. It’s one thing when a bird of paradise looks that way. A fellow knows what’s what with that sort of girl. But when it’s a young lady of good family...”
I knew exactly what he meant. I’d done my share of mixing with the muslin company, and I didn’t care who knew it—not that I had anything to prove, of course. Not by a long shot! But it was quite another thing to have the ton gossiping about a fellow because he’d made a cake of himself with an earl’s daughter. In my salad days, I used to worry something like that episode in the cupboard would happen with a young lady while we were waltzing, or perhaps being jostled together in a crowded theater. I’d made it through my youth more or less unscathed—at least, I’d kept my randier urges for the kind of females who traded in randy urges—only to wind up looking like a yahoo as a grown man, and with a latter-day Lady Macbeth.
My only consolation was that at least now Barbara knew I preferred women.
Except...except I’d had to come out with those stupid excuses about how it’d only been an involuntary reaction, something that would’ve happened no matter who’d been pressed against me. The truth was, I couldn’t see how any man wouldn’t become aroused with Barbara leaning against him, her silky hair tickling his jaw and the soft, luscious curves of her backside almost in his lap. It had been her fault every bit as much as mine. But of course she’d stayed as cool as a cucumber, while I’d been reduced to red-faced apologies.
Damn it, I really disliked that girl.
Ruthlessly, I pushed Lady Barbara from my thoughts. “Is John in?” I asked Teddy. “I’d like to have a word with him before I go.”
“John? He’s somewhere about. Try the library.”
Having run tame in Daventry House for as long as I could remember, I needed no help to find my way. Sure enough, John was in the library, sprawled in a leather armchair, lounging indolently with a book. He was dressed with his usual care in a tight-fitting coat of blue superfine, and his high shirt-points and diamond-embroidered waistcoat would’ve done even the most exacting dandy credit.
“Mind if I have a few words, John?” I strolled up to stand before him. Wouldn’t it be a dash of cold water in Barbara’s face if I got to the bottom of the mystery first. Then she’d see which of us really had the upper hand.
“With me?” John’s brows climbed in surprise. “Not in the least.” He set his book aside and indicated the chair across from him.
“Thank you, but I’d rather stand.”
John sighed. “Then I’ll stand too. You’ll give me a pain in the neck, looming over me that way.” He got to his feet, straightening the sleeves of his coat with an elegant twist of his wrists. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“It’s about the footman’s death.”
“Ah. I had a feeling it might be.”
“You see, I know Lady Helen is being blackmailed.”
The words had a remarkable effect. John froze, and his usually swarthy complexion went as white as the hand of Moses. “How do you know that?”
“I heard the two of you speaking together last night in the butler’s pantry at Leonard House.”
“You heard...” John stumbled back against the deep leather chair he’d just vacated. “How?”
“Never mind how. The point is, I know Lady Helen is hiding something, and I know you’ve been aiding her. What I don’t know is why you haven’t come forward with that information, at least to Teddy and your father.”
Shaken, John stared blankly at the Axminster carpet. “I should think that’s obvious.” His head jerked up, and a gleam lit his eyes. “Wait—you don’t know why she’s being blackmailed, do you?”
“No, but I’m waiting for you to enlighten me.”
“Ah.” John’s stiff posture relaxed, his usual languid manner returning. “As much as it grieves me to disappoint you, cousin, I’m afraid I can’t. I gave her my word.”
Good Lord, weren’t these plaguey Jeffords girls ever made to answer for anything? They had practically every man in London bending over backward for them. “Even if Teddy might suffer for it? Even if he could hang?”
“I trust it won’t come to that.”
“I don’t see why it should even be within the realm of possibility. If you won’t say why she’s being blackmailed, surely you might at least give the authorities the name of the man responsible.”
John spread his hands and gave me a smile of practiced charm. “But there’s the rub. I don’t know who’s responsible. The blackmail letters have all been anonymous.”
I peered down my nose at him. “Who delivers them?
Who picks up the money?”
“Again, I’m afraid I can’t help you. The letters simply turn up where she’s sure to find them. She discovered the first one in her carriage while returning home from a shopping trip with Teddy, the second tucked in the pocket of her evening cloak at the Royal Coburg, the third between the pages of her prayer book in church. As for the money, the letters instructed her to hide it in a busy public place, and I’ve never been able to catch the culprit in the act of collecting it.”
“Why did she take you of all people into her confidence?”
John flushed. “‘Of all people’? That sounds almost like an insult.”
“You know what I mean. Why let anyone in on the secret if she’s so desperate to keep it from Teddy?”
John shrugged again and looked away. “Because I’m his brother, I suppose, and wouldn’t want to see him hurt—and because I happened to be among her party when she discovered the second note. As we were waiting for our carriage in the crush outside the theater, I saw something had upset her, so I pulled her aside and offered her my aid.”
I pictured John, smooth and sophisticated, talking his way into Lady Helen’s trust. “Where does the footman fit into all this?”
“Ah, poor Sam. He was little more than an innocent bystander. Before I stepped in, Lady Helen enlisted his help to deliver the hush money.”
“And were they having an affair? Is that her secret?”
“Helen and Sam Garvey? Don’t be ridiculous. She simply felt the need for some hired muscle to accompany her when she delivered the payment. She was afraid her family’s servants might ask too many questions, so she resorted to the household next door. I believe she gave him a half-sovereign for his pains. She was going to talk to him yesterday about making another delivery, in fact, but he was killed before they could work out the details.”
I stared hard at him. “If you knew Sam Garvey was only a paid bodyguard, why did you tell Teddy you’d seen the two of them together? You implied there was some kind of personal impropriety going on.”
John’s gaze shifted to the wall. “I never meant to suggest it was improper. I only hoped mentioning the footman would encourage her to make a clean breast of the business to Teddy. Just because I’ve promised not to give away her secret doesn’t mean she can’t divulge it herself.” He sighed and shook his head with what looked like real regret. “Sadly, she chose not to. Now a man is dead.”
Something about his answer didn’t sit right with me. What kind of secret was Lady Helen hiding that made a tryst with her neighbor’s footman seem tame in comparison? I wasn’t even sure John was telling the truth. I would trust Teddy with my life, but I’d never been good at reading John. “And did you have anything to do with Sam’s death?”
He frowned and cast a jaundiced eye in my direction. “Do you really have to ask?”
“I think I do.”
“My dear cousin, I’m certain that was the blackmailer’s handiwork.”
There was a scratch on the library door, and we both turned to find a footman in the Daventry livery bearing a note on a tray. “A message for you, Lord Beningbrough.”
“For me?”
“Yes, my lord. The servant who brought it said he’d just come from Ormesby House, searching for you.”
I reached for the folded message. “Excuse me, would you, John?”
He bowed. “By all means.”
The note was addressed to me in a feminine hand. I broke open the seal and read:
Ben,
I have those items we discussed last night. I think you should see them. Will you come here at your earliest convenience?
Respectfully,
B
Barbara. I reread the closing. Respectfully? She must have enjoyed that bit of sarcasm.
When I glanced up, John was peering over the top of the page as if he’d been attempting to read it upside-down. He realized I’d caught him stealing a look and glanced quickly away.
“I have to meet someone.” I tucked the note into my coat pocket. “But I may have more questions for you later.”
“Turning Bow Street Runner, are you?”
“Something like that.”
John’s smile deepened to a smirk. “You’d better not tell your mother. You know how she worries.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied coolly, refusing to rise to the bait.
I was on my way out of the library when I nearly collided with Teddy, who must have been just outside the door.
“Whoa!” He clutched my arm for balance. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? On your way to have a word with the coroner?”
“Actually, I’m headed to Leonard House.”
“Leonard House? Shall I go with you?”
“No, don’t trouble yourself on my account.” It had a less suspicious ring than the first words which had inexplicably popped into my head. Three’s a crowd, Teddy.
Without a backward glance, I hurried out.
Barbara
Waiting at my bedroom window, I’d been watching for Ben for more than an hour when at last I spotted his tall, broad-shouldered figure striding up Davies Street toward our front door.
“Psst,” I hissed down to him just as he was about to knock. “Go around to the back door and I’ll let you in so no one else knows you’re here.”
He looked up, and my heart did a strange flip-flop the moment he turned that remarkable face my way—the sleepy gray eyes, the clean-cut, masculine features, the fascinating half-smile. “The back door?”
“Yes. Unfortunately the garden gate is locked, and it screeches besides. Do you think you can climb over?”
“Of course.” He answered without hesitation, as if it were something he did every day. And perhaps it was. He certainly went about dressed for it. He was hatless again, and togged out in top boots, a tobacco-colored serge jacket and buckskin breeches. If I hadn’t known he was the son of a duke, I would never have guessed as much from his appearance.
A minute later I was admitting him, holding a finger to my lips in warning. I led him through the back of the house to my father’s study.
But as we neared the study door I heard the voices of my father and Lewis, our butler. I shrank back. “Drat,” I said in a whisper. “Let’s try the back stairs. Perhaps the butler’s pantry...”
But we heard footsteps on the back stairs, and the sound of footmen conversing on their way up to lay the table for dinner. With a servant stationed at the front door, we couldn’t talk privately in the drawing room, either, or in the morning room.
That left only my bedroom. As risky as it was, I couldn’t think of any better option—though if anyone so much as suspected I was spiriting a man upstairs, I’d be ruined.
Ben seemed to share my concern, for a frown puckered his brow as I led him silently up the stairs on tiptoe. I remembered his assertion that only a Johnny Raw would fall for a woman’s claim she wasn’t interested in matrimony. I hoped he didn’t imagine I was trying to trap him in a compromising situation.
When we reached the second floor I motioned him into my room, closed the door softly behind us, and pulled the folded pages from my sash. “I realize this is highly improper,” I said, “but I don’t want anyone else guessing I have these letters. There are four of them.” Crossing to my bed, I spread the blackmail notes out atop the coverlet. “No dates, no signatures.”
He approached the bed and bent over the pages, a look of close concentration on his face.
“Your sister has been seeing another man.” His voice held both disapproval and disappointment.
“It does look that way,” I said somberly, leaning over the letters with him. “But even so, I’m sure that’s all behind her now.”
He didn’t reply.
It was a telling silence, but I could hardly blame him. I was disappointed in Helen myself. She had no business accepting Cliburne if she couldn’t be faithful to him. If I ever married—not that it seemed likely—I intended to keep every one of the vows
I took, or what was the point of taking them at all?
Ben picked up one of the letters and held it up to the sunlight streaming in my bedroom window. While he studied the page, I studied his profile.
“I’m not sure why,” I said, mostly to fill the silence, “but the penmanship looks familiar to me.”
“It’s simple block lettering. Anyone might have written it.”
“Still, I’d swear I’ve seen it somewhere before. Whoever wrote this curves the back of his Ds, Es, Fs and Rs where they ought to be straight—do you see? I assume he’s not a gentleman, for he’s used who for whom, and misspelled half the words.”
“His misspelling is rather inconsistent. He’s written a relatively easy word like fifty wrong, but used the proper forms of know and hear. He might simply have been taking pains to disguise his identity.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that.”
As we considered the crude lettering, I caught Ben’s scent again, that toe-curlingly wonderful blend of fine soap and new leather. His shoulder brushed mine, and for a moment I was vividly aware I had a handsome and robust young man alone in my bedroom. I wanted to kick myself for not having had the forethought to spread the letters out on the windowsill rather than on my bed. Now I was all too conscious of how close Ben was, and how effortlessly he could take me in his arms and—
“At least now we know what Sam’s part in this blackmailing business was,” he said, recalling me with a thud to the business at hand. “I had a talk with John today.” He went on to relate what he’d learned from his cousin.
“So Sam was only a go-between, and he ended up murdered?” I sank down on my bed in horror. “Poor Sam. I can’t help but feel responsible somehow for his death. If only Helen had come to me for the money she needed! Despite what she thinks, I would have given it to her.”
At the regret in my voice, Ben looked down at me with a frown. “It isn’t your fault.”
Logically speaking, I knew he was right. I’d had no idea Helen needed money, and I certainly hadn’t known she was being blackmailed and that a man’s life could be in danger. Even so, since the moment I’d learned of Helen’s troubles, I’d been fretting about her reply to John Mainsforth’s suggestion she come to me for help. You don’t know my sister. She already thinks me a feather-brain.
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