Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid (Kellington Book One)

by Maureen Driscoll

  Ned looked at her. Was now the time to tell her how his feelings had deepened? Perhaps it was the only way to a better future.

  “Jane, I….”

  They were interrupted by a commotion downstairs in the foyer. From the sound of it, an entire army was invading Lynwood House.

  When they reached the landing, everyone began talking at once. Lizzie was apologizing to Jane for something, Arthur and Hal were angry and a woman Jane hadn’t met before was petting a puppy with Vi. Finally, Lynwood took over and in his usual calm way told them what had happened in the park.

  Jane and Ned ran down the stairs to hold Vi, to ensure she was all right. Not only did she appear unharmed, she could talk of nothing but the puppy she’d found and that his grace had said she could keep.

  Jane was sick with relief and grateful to everyone for keeping Vi safe. But as she turned to Ned, she was stopped cold by the look of pure rage in his eyes.

  “He won’t get away with this,” was the last thing he said before he ran out of Lynwood House.

  “Your grace,” said Jane in a panic. “You must stop him. I’m afraid he’ll kill my grandfather.”

  “Heskiss, call for my horse and Arthur’s right away. Hal, stay with the ladies.”

  With that Lynwood and Arthur ran out of the house.

  * * *

  As a soldier, then a spy, Ned knew vengeance made a person irrational. And it often got the wrong person killed. He knew he should wait to see Huntington until he was more level-headed, but it didn’t feel like he’d ever get over this primal rage inside him. The man had tried to kidnap his daughter twice. Ned had warned him once and the man had disregarded it at his peril. He wouldn’t stop at punching the man in the face today. He wouldn’t stop until his message was clear.

  He knew he wouldn’t get through the front door after his earlier visit, so he had the hack drop him by the mews. He climbed a fence onto Huntington’s property, then stole his way across the lawn. The French doors to the study were open and with any luck he’d find the old man in there.

  Ned slipped through the doors then looked around the room. Huntington wasn’t at the desk, and he was surprised to find the room in complete disarray. There were papers everywhere. On the floor, on the furniture. It looked like the room had been thoroughly ransacked.

  He heard a noise from behind the desk. As he walked toward it, he saw Huntington on the floor, covered in blood, moaning. When he saw Ned, he lifted his hand and his eyes grew wide. Then Ned was hit from behind and a blinding pain flashed through his skull before he fell to the floor unconscious.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  For the second time in his life, Ned awoke with the skull-splitting headache that accompanies a concussion. This time he was in a study that was filled with a lot of loud men. But somehow, the person he heard the clearest was the one who was the most soft-spoken. Liam was in the room. Liam would explain what had happened.

  Ned must’ve moaned, because it got the attention of the others in the room, who were slowly coming into focus. There was Lynwood, a worried Arthur, and another man, who was tall and lean, about Lynwood’s age, with the look of a soldier.

  “Lord Edward, I’m Inspector Stapleton from Bow Street. Do you know where you are?”

  Ned started to nod, then immediately regretted the action.

  “Good,” continued Stapleton. “Can you tell us what happened here today?”

  Ned tried to look around him to see if Huntington was still there.

  “The earl?” he asked.

  “He’s dead,” said Stapleton without emotion. “How did you come to be here? The butler said he didn’t let you in.”

  It took Ned a moment to remember. “The French doors.”

  “Do you always pay calls on earls through French doors after sneaking onto their property?”

  “I had to see him.”

  “Why?”

  “He arranged a kidnapping.”

  There was no immediate response from Stapleton, who loomed over him. “The earl arranged a kidnapping?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” But clearly he didn’t. “Why didn’t you come directly to Bow Street?”

  “I wanted to see him first.”

  “And what did you see when you arrived?”

  As Ned began the story, his mind worked as best it could to piece together what had happened. There’d been someone else in the room. Someone who’d snuck up from behind and knocked him out. That must have been what Huntington had been motioning to.

  “There was someone else here,” said Ned.

  “But the butler said he didn’t let anyone else in.”

  “He didn’t let me in, either, as you pointed out.”

  “What were you looking for in the room, Lord Edward?”

  “I wasn’t looking for anything other than the earl.”

  “Are you saying the room was in this state when you arrived?”

  “I just told you it was.”

  “I see. The butler told me he’d been in here approximately thirty minutes before you were found and the room had been in perfect order.”

  “And, as I told you earlier,” said Lynwood, “my brother didn’t have much of a head start. I’m sure Lord Arthur and I arrived only moments after Lord Edward did. He wouldn’t have had time to search this room, bludgeon the earl and knock himself out.”

  “With all due respect, your grace,” said Stapleton, “at this time I have only your word as to the timing. And you have a vested interest in this case.”

  “Are you calling me a liar, Stapleton?” asked Lynwood in the coolest voice he had. The room grew unnaturally silent.

  The Bow Street runner looked him in the eye. “No, your grace. I’m simply pointing out your reputation as one who’d protect his family at any cost. And someone who’s that devoted to his brother might be mistaken about the time.”

  “I assure you I am not.”

  The two men looked at each other for a moment. Stapleton wasn’t backing down. In other circumstances, Ned would’ve found it admirable. In this particular case, he wondered why the one man perhaps in the whole of London who wasn’t cowed by Lynwood was the one with the power to send him to Newgate while this mess was straightened out.

  Stapleton looked away first. “Your grace, I’m releasing Lord Edward into your care while we look into this matter further. But please know this. I am dedicated to justice and won’t be swayed by titles. I’m releasing him at this time not because you’re the Duke of Lynwood, but because it’s illogical to think he’d cosh himself on that particular part of the head. However, I haven’t ruled out the use of an accomplice. If I find the facts point to Lord Edward’s guilt, I’ll pursue the case to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “I would expect nothing less,” said Lynwood. “Lord Arthur, will you please help me with our brother?”

  Moments later, they were in the main Lynwood carriage, which the duke had sent for while they’d been waiting for Ned to regain consciousness. The three of them were silent on the journey home, a silence Ned was thankful for, given the state of his head. But it also irked him. He felt his brothers were afraid to ask the obvious question.

  “I didn’t do it, you know,” he said. “Although I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I’d arrived and Huntington had been sitting there.”

  “You would’ve beaten him within an inch of his life, but left him alive,” said Lynwood in a matter of fact tone.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because it’s what I would’ve done. We must figure out how to clear your name because I have no doubt Inspector Stapleton won’t hesitate to charge you if he believes you did it. I actually rather admire the man, so I would just as soon not have him as an adversary.”

  When they arrived home, they were met at the door by Hal and an extremely worried Jane. But instead of falling apart weeping in concern, which Ned felt might’ve been at least a little nice, she immediately examined the lump on the back of his head, which
made it hurt even more.

  “Woman, are you trying to kill me?”

  “I’m trying to ascertain the degree of your injury, if you’d only stay still. You fuss more than Vi when she’s skinned her knee.”

  “Why don’t we escort Edward to his room, where Miss Wetherby can more closely examine him,” said Lynwood to his brothers, who were highly amused by the scene.

  “How’s Vi?” asked Ned as they helped him upstairs.

  “She’s doing well,” said Jane. “She and Lizzie are playing with the puppy in the nursery.”

  “That pup ruined my best waistcoat,” said Hal. “Not to mention the mess he’s made in the house.”

  “What mess?” asked Lynwood.

  “I’m sure it doesn’t signify,” replied Hal, “although I wouldn’t walk around without shoes for a while.”

  They laid Ned on the bed, then Jane continued her examination, calling for a bowl of hot water, soap, bandages and a bottle of whiskey.

  “Not the whiskey,” said Ned. “Please not the whiskey.”

  “I must ask you, Miss Wetherby,” said Lynwood as he watched her attend Ned’s injuries, “if you know of anyone who might’ve wanted to harm your grandfather.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. He and I haven’t communicated much since Vi was born. You may want to talk to his solicitors.”

  “I’ll send a note to my man. Can you think of anything else?”

  “No. But couldn’t this business today have been a simple robbery gone wrong?” asked Jane.

  “I don’t think so,” said Ned. “There were too many valuables in plain sight. There was no need to ransack the study if someone had simply wanted to steal expensive items.” He looked down to see that somehow his hand had become entwined with hers.

  Lynwood must have seen it, as well.

  “If you can think of anything else, either of you, please let me know.”

  He then left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

  “What were you thinking?” she asked, as she gently brushed hair from his forehead.

  “I don’t think I was. I was out of my mind with rage and helplessness because I hadn’t been there to protect her. I wanted to do whatever I could to make things right.”

  Jane brought his hand to her lips. “No one can keep children from harm at all times. It’s a hard lesson to learn when you’re a parent. I’m just glad you weren’t more seriously hurt. You’ve become too important to Vi for her to lose you now.”

  But was he important to Jane? The question tugged at Ned’s gut. He needed to know the answer. He needed to feel her lips on his own. He was just about to do something about it when a parade of servants entered the room carrying medical supplies.

  He wouldn’t be able to continue the conversation until later. But continue it, he would.

  * * *

  The invitation arrived at Kellington House just before dinner. Their Aunt Agatha, Countess of Crenshaw, was holding an impromptu ball two nights hence. An accompanying note said she expected the entire Kellington family to attend. She mentioned them by name and told them rather pointedly not to bring their houseguest.

  “This is outrageous,” said Lizzie over a late dinner, since the entire family was once again staying in for the evening. Vi was upstairs asleep, but the rest of the family was at the table. “Who is she to exclude our guest?”

  “Your aunt is a well-respected hostess of the ton,” said Jane. “It is completely her prerogative to choose whom to invite.”

  “She’s insufferable is what she is,” said Lizzie. “And I for one don’t want to go to her ball if she’s only inviting some of us.”

  Lynwood cleared his throat. “While I apologize to Miss Wetherby on Lady Crenshaw’s behalf for neglecting to invite her, it’s important for the rest of us to attend the ball in light of Ned’s situation. I’m sure word has already spread about today’s events. We must stand as a united front and there’s no better place to do that than at Lady Crenshaw’s ball.”

  “Then we’ll stand as a united front with Jane in attendance,” said Ned, firmly. “What better sign to send to the ton than to have the support of the earl’s granddaughter.”

  “Ned,” said Lynwood. “This is not the time to become more firmly embroiled in scandal. We can talk about this later in private, but I believe it would be best if Miss Wetherby remained at home.”

  “Best for whom?” asked Ned. “My legal difficulties or for the vaunted Lynwood name?”

  Arthur, Hal and Lizzie solemnly watched the two men. Disagreements at the table were not uncommon, but rarely did they involve this much heat.

  “Ned,” said Jane, “this is not the time to pressure his grace.”

  “Don’t defend him,” said Ned. “More than my life is at stake here. I’ve got to protect my daughter. You and she are part of this family, whether you choose to accept my proposal or not.”

  “And do you think parading the girl’s fallen mother in front of the ton will accomplish that?” replied Jane. “Would it help our case to have Lady Crenshaw refuse to admit me? Right now, I’m concerned with only two things: how to keep you from the gallows and how to protect Vi from another kidnapping attack. Public opinion will be just as important in clearing your name as any evidence Inspector Stapleton thinks to find. I will not be responsible for bringing you to harm.”

  “But it’s time for everyone to stop protecting me, when I have so utterly failed to protect others,” said Ned. “I want you standing by my side at that ball. Liam, my apologies for being so glib before. As Lynwood, you have the right to expect the best behavior from us all. But I won’t back down.”

  Lynwood stared at his brother in silence, then rose from the table.

  “In that case, I’d best write to Lady Crenshaw and tell her to expect an addition to the party. She won’t refuse you admittance, Miss Wetherby. I am, after all, Lynwood.”

  * * *

  It was a typical night at Schaefer’s, the gaming hell currently enjoying the most acclaim among the ton’s blades. It was a little past two in the morning, as Inspector Stapleton walked through the crowd of lordlings gambling away their inheritance, cheered on by nearly naked and, in some cases, completely naked women supplied by the house. Alcohol poured freely and you wouldn’t have to go far to find opium if that was your drug of choice. But tonight, Stapleton cared only about following up on one of the leads he’d found in Huntington’s study.

  After perusing the room one more time, he found the man he’d been looking for, perfectly described by a disgruntled lightskirt he’d interviewed earlier.

  The man was playing commerce with three partners, each drunker than the man next to him. All except his quarry, who only appeared to have drunk too much liquor, but was as sober as Stapleton, which might explain how he was cheating so well.

  Stapleton watched the men play several hands, then when his man collected his winnings and left the table, he caught up to him.

  “Evan Cantwell?” asked Stapleton.

  “Who are you?”

  “Inspector Stapleton of Bow Street. I’m investigating the death of the Earl of Huntington.”

  “Poor bastard. But what’s that got to do with me? I barely knew the man.” Cantwell walked toward the club’s exit.

  Stapleton followed. “But you knew him well enough not to be surprised he’s dead.”

  “It was in the evening papers. Anyone who can read would know he’s dead. I’m assuming that’s not how you came about your information, since I’ve never met a runner yet who could read.”

  “Oh, I can read,” said Stapleton, evaluating the man he was questioning. “It’s how I learned you’ve received hundreds of pounds from him during the past few years. Some of the earl’s papers had gone missing, but I was able to find enough to lead me to you.”

  Cantwell walked outside the club with Stapleton one step behind him. “It’s not a crime to receive money from someone.”

  “Depends on what you did to get it.”
/>   “The old man and I had a business deal. I guess now I’ll have to find someone else to do business with.”

  “Like his granddaughter?”

  Cantwell lit a cheroot. Good, thought Stapleton. He’s stalling to think of his answer.

  “I know the granddaughter. A bluestocking in the country. Fancies herself a surgeon.”

  “What’s your relationship with her?”

  “I didn’t father her bastard, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said as he blew smoke into Stapleton’s face.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Shortly before I came to London.”

  “When was the last time you saw the earl?”

  “I don’t know. A week ago, maybe? I tried to avoid it whenever possible.”

  “But you were doing business with the man. And knew him well enough to dislike him.”

  “You didn’t have to know him well for that. The man was unpleasant. Rubbed quite a lot of people the wrong way. If you’re looking for a suspect, you’ll have no shortage of them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”

  Stapleton watched the man hail a hack then drive off. He had a pretty good sense of when he was being lied to, and he knew there was more to Evan Cantwell than a simple business deal with the earl. But what he’d really like to know more about was Miss Wetherby and her child.

  * * *

  A few blocks away, Cantwell made a detour on his way to the bordello he’d been intent on visiting. He didn’t like either Bow Street or the Kellingtons sniffing about his business. Something would have to be done about both.

  * * *

  Ned was in bed staring at the ceiling. Why was his life getting more complicated and not less? A man was dead and he was sorry for it, even if only hours ago he’d been ready to pummel him. He couldn’t help but think that whoever had killed the earl might be behind the attacks on Vi. He needed to find the man and not just to clear his name.

  There was a quiet knock on the door, then it opened and Jane slipped into the room.

  “I’ve come to check on your head,” she whispered. She was in her night clothes and he could see her feet were bare as she slowly approached the bed.