The King's League Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  “You have more than enough mettle,” Lady Watt replied, firmly, patting her hand. “Now, come along and let us talk about something different, so that your mind is removed from what you have seen.”

  Bridgette allowed Lady Watt to lead her along, listening to her speak about something entirely banal and feeling her heart settle a little more. It had been a horrendous thing that had occurred but here, secure in the knowledge that the League would do all they could to help and quite certain that, in the end, they would be able to find out the truth in its entirety. She could not live with anything other than that.

  Chapter Six

  “Madame Bereford.”

  Sebastian bowed low, Lord Hearst by his side.

  “Good evening, my lords.” It was as if she emerged out of the shadows, wrapped in a deep red satin gown and shawl. Her white blonde hair gave her an ethereal appearance, tied up at the back of her head with gentle curls tumbling down around her ears. She had slanted dark blue eyes and a gentle twist to her lips that could either be a gentle moue or an angry pursing of the lips. “Is this your first time here?”

  Lord Hearst cleared his throat. “We do not come in search of pleasure this evening, Madame Bereford.”

  She did not move and her expression did not change, save for a small arching of her brow which Sebastian thought spoke of a flicker of curiosity.

  “Then you are not interested in any of my ladies?” she asked, a small purr to her voice. “How very strange.” Her eyes glittered. “I have even had some new ladies come from the ship ‘The Rose’ this very afternoon.” Her lips twisted and Sebastian could not quite make out whether or not she was laughing at him. “Can you not find even a flicker of interest now?”

  Sebastian put both hands behind his back, smelling something sweet and yet a little smoky at the same time. It caught at the back of his throat, making him cough a little. Madame Bereford only smiled, her eyes fixed to his.

  “We do intend to recompense you for your time, Madame,” he said, his throat still a little tight. “Might you be willing to speak to us for a moment?”

  She considered this for a moment or two, making Sebastian and Lord Hearst remain quite silent as they waited, feeling as though they were on the edge of a precipice, waiting for her to reach out to them.

  Eventually, Madame Bereford sat down quietly, her skirts swishing gently as she gestured for them to seat themselves also. Relieved, Sebastian sat down quickly, as did Lord Hearst. There was still a sense of awkward tension growing in the room, like a dark cloud spreading out above their heads. Sebastian held his breath as the lady arched one eyebrow at him, looking from Lord Hearst to him and back again.

  “What is it that you wish to ask of me?” she said, a little tartly. “If it is to sell you one of my ladies, then I can assure you that I have no intention of doing any such thing.”

  Shaking his head quickly, Sebastian let out a long breath. “No, indeed not,” he said, emphatically. “I have no intention of asking such a thing. Rather —” he exchanged a glance with Lord Hearst, “we seek information.”

  Madame Bereford narrowed her eyes. “Information?” Her tone changed in an instant, now lower and holding a pinch of anger. “I do not sell information, about either my ladies or my clients.”

  “An admirable position, of course,” Sebastian said, quickly, “but would you hold such a position if the person in question was deceased?”

  “Could we not tempt you then?” Lord Hearst added, a trifle too breezily for Sebastian’s liking. “After all, there is nothing that need worry you, given that the fellow is quite gone.”

  Madame Bereford kept her narrowed gaze fixed to Lord Hearst, who, after a few moments, dropped his own eyes to the floor, clearly somewhat discomfited by her eagle-like stare. Sebastian kept his own counsel, wisely choosing to remain quiet until Madame Bereford decided to speak.

  “I would know the name of this gentleman,” she eventually said, turning her eyes to Sebastian rather than continuing to watch the now cowed Lord Hearst. “And I will not promise to say even a single word about him as yet.”

  “But of course,” Sebastian said, easily. “It is a Lord Hazelton.” He watched the lady closely, looking for any sign of recognition. “Do you recall him?”

  Madame Bereford tipped her head, bird like. “And if I do?”

  Sebastian pulled a pouch from his pocket, the coins jingling cheerfully within. “I would know what he was doing here.”

  In one swift motion, Madame Bereford rose, stepped forward and plucked the pouch from his hand. She laughed at his astonishment, then tipped the coins out one after the other. Counting them twice, she settled them back into the pouch and then resumed her seat. Silence reigned over them for some time, leaving Sebastian feeling as though he were a mouse simply waiting for the cat to strike.

  “Lord Hazelton came here frequently,” Madame Bereford said, with one delicate lift of her shoulder. “I found him to be both generous and kind.”

  “Kind?” Lord Hearst asked, the word sounding harsh against Madame Bereford’s gentle tones. “What can you mean?”

  Madame Bereford eyed him with something like disdain. “You are not a gentleman who has had any involvement in places such as this, I suppose,” she said, a wry smile twisting her lips that suggested, quite plainly, that she did not believe what she had just stated. “Kind, yes, Lord Hearst. He did not treat any of my ladies ill, did not beat them or injure them in any way.” Her brows furrowed, a thin line forming between them. “They are not all as kind as Lord Hazelton, if you understand my meaning.”

  Lord Hearst had the grace to look abashed. “I understand fully,” he told her, calmly. “And I am somewhat gratified to hear that Lord Hazelton was as you say.”

  “Although you do not approve of his being here in the first place,” Madame Bereford finished, with a glint of steel in her eyes. “Is that not so?”

  Sebastian spread out his hands. “We do not come here to judge, my lady,” he said, truthfully. “Rather we are looking to find out anything we can about him.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “To what end?”

  “To discover why someone might have felt the need to take his life,” Sebastian continued, sitting back in his chair. “Lord Hazelton did not merely become ill, Madame Bereford, but rather he was struck down.” He watched the lady closely but, again, her features remained in the very same position without any sort of change. “We must ask you this — was there a lady here that he often came to see?” A small flare of heat climbed up his neck but he ignored his embarrassment and forged ahead. “Or did he choose a different lady every time he arrived?”

  Madame Bereford tilted her head a little, her eyes fixed to his, assessing him. Her mouth remained in a tight line, her hands still flat in her lap. She gave no outward appearance of what she was thinking, her features seemingly etched in stone rather than flesh and blood. Sebastian held his breath, aware that if the lady told him that Lord Hazelton had no-one in particular, he would know all too well that she was lying and thus would know that there was no good reason to continue the conversation.

  “Lord Hazelton did not have any particular favorites.”

  He stiffened, disappointment roaring through him. One glance towards Lord Hearst told him that the gentleman felt a good deal of disappointment also, for his gaze was downcast and his brow furrowed.

  “Are you quite certain, Madame?” he asked, as firmly as he could. “I have heard otherwise.”

  Lord Hearst looked up and Madame Bereford quickly looked from one to the other, her eyes now as hard as flint.

  “You wish to suggest that one of my ladies is responsible for the death of Lord Hazelton?” she asked, one eyebrow arching. “I shall not accept it from you, gentlemen.”

  “No, no, we do not want any such thing!” Sebastian exclaimed, throwing up his hands for good measure. “Rather we would only seek to speak to such a lady, to see if Lord Hazelton said anything to her of note — or if other gentlemen came to her, a
sking her what Lord Hazelton had said.”

  Madame Bereford’s eyes flashed. “My ladies are not indiscreet.”

  “Might we speak to her?” Lord Hearst asked, making it quite plain that they knew that Lord Hazelton had a specific young lady to whom he liked to give his attentions to. “It would not be for long.”

  “And we would be more than contented for you to wait with her, of course,” Sebastian added, watching Madame Bereford with eager eyes. “Please, Madame. We only wish to find out the truth about what has happened to our dear friend.” He emphasized the word, wondering if the lady would be convinced by emotion but fearing that it would do no good whatsoever.

  Eventually, Madame Bereford, saying nothing to either of them, rose to her feet, walking to the corner of the room and, there, pulling on a cord. Then, she folded her arms across her chest, her eyes still fixed to Sebastian and Lord Hearst as though she expected them to do something foolish that she might be quite unable to prevent.

  “My lady?”

  Sebastian raised one eyebrow at the servant’s greeting. Madame Bereford was no lady and certainly bore no title but he had to admit that there was something about her that seemed to demand respect, even from himself.

  “Fetch Sarah.”

  His ears pricked up. This was indeed the young lady that the League had mentioned, even though he was quite certain that her true name was something entirely different. He looked at Lord Hearst, who now appeared to be quite encouraged, before turning his head back to look at Madame Bereford.

  She said nothing but continued to study him, her lips tight and her eyes still narrowed. Clearly, she disliked their intrusion, their demand for information, but yet was willing to do so in place of the money they had brought with them.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  Sebastian caught his breath as a willowy young lady, with jet black hair and dark eyes stepped into the room, her steps a trifle faltering.

  “Sarah,” Madame Bereford snapped, as the young lady dropped her head. “Tell me, did Lord Hazelton ever speak to you about particular matters?”

  The young lady lifted her head, glancing over towards Sebastian and Lord Hearst, a look of bewilderment on her face. Her eyes rounded as he gave her a small, encouraging smile, which was quickly followed by a look of fear.

  “No, my lady,” she said quickly, a lilting accent in her voice. “Never.”

  “You can speak truthfully,” Sebastian said, before Madam Bereford could say anything more. “Lord Hazelton is dead.”

  He rose, watching the young lady with sharp eyes, noting how her face crumpled, how her shoulders rounded and how she lowered her chin to her chest. A little surprised at her reaction, he glanced towards Lord Hearst, who merely shrugged, clearly not at all certain as to what to do next.

  “He did not speak to you of any particular matters or concerns, did he?” Sebastian asked, wondering how he would know if the lady told him the truth or not, given that she was hiding her face from him. “Or, if any other gentleman came to you, seeking to discover the very same questions we ask of you now?”

  For a long moment there was silence. Then, eventually, Sarah lifted her head and looked at him directly. There was a steadiness in her gaze he had not expected, a calmness of spirit that surprised him.

  “I have never had any gentlemen ask me about Lord Hazelton,” she said, her voice crisp and clear. “Nor did he ever speak to me about anything in particular.” Her eyes darted towards Madame Bereford for just a moment before returning to him, making Sebastian frown. Madam Bereford was smiling icily at them both, a look of satisfaction growing in her eyes. Evidently, whatever might have been said by Lord Hazelton, they were not about to discover it now.

  “I see,” he said, rising to his feet as Lord Hearst did the same. “Then I thank you for your time, Sarah. And you also, Madame Bereford.” He bowed low and then pulled a card from his pocket. Advancing towards them both, he held the card out to Sarah rather than to Madame Bereford, noting again how she glanced towards Madame Bereford before she took it.

  These young ladies were all quite at her mercy, he thought to himself, finding himself a little sorrowful about such a thing.

  “Just in case you recall anything more,” he told the lady, smiling at her. “Anything at all that might be of use.” He sighed and let his shoulders slump. “After all, we do not want his death to remain unsolved. Rather, we want to discover the truth so that he might be at peace.”

  Sarah looked up at him from below lowered lashes and he felt a sudden flurry of awareness at just how lovely a creature she was.

  “Thank you,” she said simply, her voice quiet but her gaze steady. “If I can remember anything at all, I will, of course, write to you.”

  “I am very grateful to you both for your consideration and your time,” Sebastian said, bowing low as though they were both young ladies of the ton who required such a thing. “We shall take our leave now and not take any more of your time, else I shall be late for my visit to Lady Callander.”

  Madame Bereford’s smile did not reach her eyes. “I thank you,” she said, gesturing towards the door. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  “Good afternoon,” Lord Hearst murmured as together, they made their way from Madame Bereford’s house and stepped out into the sunshine, leaving Madame Bereford and Sarah behind.

  “Well?”

  Sebastian let out a long sigh as he shook his head, seeing the disappointment flare in Lady Callander’s eyes.

  “We discovered very little,” he told her, somewhat disappointed himself. “Madame Bereford did not want to allow us to speak to her girl and thus, we had to make our way very carefully indeed.”

  “And this young lady, this ‘Sarah’,” Lady Callander asked, her eyes fixed to his, “she said nothing?”

  He shook his head. “She said nothing,” he confirmed, a little sadly. “I am quite certain that she was desperately afraid of Madame Bereford and thus would not have said anything to us within her presence, but —”

  “Then mayhap you ought to go to the lady in question without Madame Bereford’s awareness,” Lady Callander interrupted, quickly. “I mean, not you or Lord Hearst, given that she is fully aware as to who you are, but another gentleman from the League.”

  Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Send another gentleman to Madame Bereford’s house,” she said, without even a hint of embarrassment in her features. “And ask him to request or to choose ‘Sarah’.”

  “I see what you mean,” Sebastian said, slowly, his brow lifting. “And instead of doing as Sarah will expect, he can spend the time questioning her about Lord Hazelton.”

  “Precisely.” Lady Callander looked rather satisfied, sitting back in her seat with a small smile teasing her lips. “Although it should not occur for the next sennight or so, simply to ensure that Madame Bereford does not become suspicious of your motives.”

  He nodded quickly. “You are very wise, Lady Callander,” he said, seeing the hint of red brush against her cheeks. “And how have you been?” It had been a few days since they had come across Lord Hazelton in the park, which he knew had been a great shock to her. That being said, she looked as though she had recovered herself a little, for there was no longer that pale, wane look about her any longer.

  “I am quite well,” she told him, with a small smile. “Although I am frustrated that I have been able to do very little other than go about my business and pray that whoever took Lord Hazelton’s life does not know of what he wrote to me.”

  Sebastian nodded gravely. “The funeral is to take place very soon,” he said, quietly. “There is no rumor that has attached itself to either yourself or I, for which I am grateful for.” Lord Watt had sent some servants to the park once they had informed him of what had happened, and the servants had been able to take a firm grip of the situation. It had been they who had brought Lord Hazelton’s body to his townhouse, allowing his servants to take matters on from there. No-one seemed to have any aw
areness that it had been Sebastian himself and Lady Callander who had seen Lord Hazelton at the first.

  “I should like to attend,” Lady Callander said, softly. “He was not well known to me but still, I should like to pay my respects.”

  Sebastian nodded. “But of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “I should take my leave of you now.”

  She rose also, although there was something in her eyes that he could not look away from, a flicker of hope that he wanted desperately to answer.

  “You will be attending this evening, I hope?”

  Sebastian smiled, took Lady Callander’s hand in his and bowed over it, the urge to kiss the back of her hand growing ever stronger. Instead, he lifted his head and pressed her fingers. “I am,” he said, speaking of the evening soiree they were to attend, at Lord Lexington’s home. “The League meets the evening after that, and we will discuss all matters at length.” Seeing the question in her eyes, he chuckled. “And I am certain that your presence there will not be rejected, Lady Callander.”

  A look of relief passed over her features as she smiled at him. “I thank you, Lord Millerton,” she said, with such a warmth to her voice that it seemed to fill his very soul. “Until this evening, then.”

  He smiled back at her, finding his feet rather reluctant to step away from her. “I look forward to seeing you again, Lady Callander,” he said, before forcing himself to walk out of the doorway. It would not be long before he saw her again, he told himself, less than eager to return to his own carriage and instead wanting desperately to return to her side, to speak for a little longer, to be in her company for a little more time. Knowing that he was being overly sentimental and perhaps a little foolish, Sebastian shook his head to himself and forced himself to step out of the door and into the waiting carriage.

  Where, much to his astonishment, sat a young lady whom he immediately recognized.

  “Sarah,” he breathed, clutching his heart as he tried to speak clearly, still a little overcome with shock. “Whatever are you doing here?”