Hope looked at Michael with stunned amusement. “I am dressed as a gentleman, Michael. How much less appealing can I be?”
Again, she made an excellent point. In her current get-up, he certainly shouldn’t find her so mouth-wateringly delicious.
Putting aside his pent-up desires, Michael led the way into the club. Looking around, he spotted their quarry across the room. He grabbed Hope’s arm and whispered, “There he is.” Lord Cochrane was a distinguished-looking gentleman, sitting alone at a corner table staring absently at the ceiling. Michael weaved his way through the smoky, crowded room until he was standing in front of the man.
Cochrane, apparently sensing he was no longer alone, changed his focus from the ceiling to look at Michael and Hope.
“Hello, gentlemen. Is there something I may do for you?”
“Yes, sir, there is. May we sit?”
Lord Cochrane gestured toward the empty chairs magnanimously. “By all means…”
“Thank you.” Michael nodded to Hope, who took the chair by the wall, and then he settled into the seat next to her.
Cochrane watched Michael closely and then said, “You look familiar, sir. Have we met?”
“Yes, we have. Though only once or twice in passing,” Michael replied respectfully. “I am Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield.”
“Lichfield. Yes, of course. I remember now.”
Michael acknowledged the remembrance and then motioned to Hope. “And this Mr. Van Keppel, a colleague of mine.”
Hope inclined her head. “Lord Cochrane, sir.”
Cochrane returned the greeting with a slight frown. “What is it I can do for you, Lichfield?”
Michael leaned forward slightly, kept his voice low, and got straight to the point. “There was a crime against the stock market recently, and I have been told that you were involved.”
Beneath his tan, Lord Cochrane appeared to pale slightly. “Just what have you heard, man?”
“Well, there is a committee who has been investigating the incident and according to their records, you made a tidy profit on the stocks in questions. Also, they have in custody a man named De Berenger, who has named you as a conspirator.”
Lord Cochrane definitely blanched when he heard the name De Berenger. Looking around anxiously, he said, “We shouldn’t talk here.”
“Fine,” Michael replied in a clipped, even tone. “We have a carriage down the block. There is plenty of privacy there.”
“Good, good. Let’s go.”
And with that, the three of them stood and, as casually as possible, left the club. Michael made sure to stick close to Cochrane in case the man decided to make a break for it. He needn’t have worried, though, for it was clear once they all were safely bundled into the carriage that Lord Cochrane was eager to have his say.
“About a month ago, my financial advisor, Richard Butt, came to see me. He told me about a hunch he had regarding a couple of government stocks. Butt is prone to such hunches, but they rarely ever pan out. However, in this instance, he was more adamant than usual, so I allowed him to invest in one of them with the instructions to sell if the price rose to one percent. He did so and I made a tidy profit. Later, when I read about the scheme in the papers, I was shocked to learn the trades being investigated were the same stocks presented to me by Butt.”
Michael was silent for a moment. “So, you were not aware that Butt was colluding with your uncle to defraud the Stock Exchange?”
“Defraud the…Wait. Did you say my uncle?” Cochrane repeated with much surprise. “Why, no! I had no idea about any of this. Which uncle, exactly…?” then Cochrane shook his head in disbelief. “It wasn’t Uncle Andrew, was it?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “Yes, it was, actually.”
“Of course. That greedy bastard…” Cochrane muttered under his breath. Then looking up at Michael, he said with conviction, “Rest assured, I had no idea my uncle was in on this scheme, nor would I be involved in anything to do with that man.”
“If you were completely unaware of the plan, why did De Berenger name you as an involved party?”
“I am acquainted with De Berenger, yes, but I had no knowledge that he was working with Butt and my, er…uncle, as you say.”
“When did you last see De Berenger?”
“Just a few days ago, actually. He came to my house, ah, Tuesday afternoon I believe, requesting passage to the United States aboard my new command the HMS Tonnant. I told him I would take it under consideration and then he left.”
“Tuesday, you say?” Michael said thoughtfully.
“Yes, Tuesday. Does that mean something to you?”
“Perhaps,” Michael mused. “Do you remember what he was wearing, by any chance?”
Taken aback by the seemingly random question, Cochrane paused a moment to recollect. “Ah, a sharpshooter’s uniform, if I remember correctly. A green sharpshooter’s uniform.”
Michael turned to Hope. “I followed De Berenger there…to Cochrane’s place. He stopped there before he met up with the other men.”
“But I don’t understand,” Hope replied. “If De Berenger stopped there, presumably to arrange his escape after the scheme, why did he implicate Cochrane in the actual crime?”
“I believe I can answer that,” Cochrane offered angrily. “De Berenger was not happy that I did not immediately grant him passage aboard my ship, so he would have his own reason for accusing me; but also, my uncle is not well-pleased with me. We have differing political ideals…vastly differing. It could be that he planned to incriminate me in the scheme all along. In fact, it would not surprise me if he intends to attach the blame entirely upon me for the crime. The Tories would love the opportunity to see me hang.”
“Political differences?” Hope cried. “And for that, he is willing to see you arrested, possibly convicted, for a crime in which you had no part?”
Cochrane took another close look at Hope, her outburst a bit too much to ignore, and a light appeared in his eyes.
Michael also saw the folly of Hope’s words. Looking at Cochrane, Michael thought with alarm, He knows! He knows that Hope is a woman.
Drawing Cochrane’s attention, Michael gave him a look that broached no misunderstanding. Cochrane was to say nothing of his discovery, to Hope or anyone else for that matter.
Cochrane simply shrugged. Clearly, it was no matter to him that this female was portraying herself as a man. Michael was sure all the man was concerned about was convincing the two of them of his innocence.
“Lichfield, what do you suggest I do?”
“Lay low, Cochrane. Van Keppel and I will see what we can do to confirm your story. If it is as you say, I will talk to the committee on your behalf.” Michael gave Cochrane a diffident look and he added, “I cannot guarantee it will do any good, but it is the best I can offer.”
Lord Cochrane shook his head. “No, I understand. I will take your advice to heart. Thank you for whatever you are able to do.”
Watching the older man disembark the carriage, Michael sincerely hoped that wherever it was the gentleman went, it was in heed of the advice given to him and not back to the club or other popular haunt; for if Michael and Hope were trying to find the good lord, it was very likely others were not far behind.
Chapter Sixteen
A smile is reward enough for any good deed that has been done for the right reasons.
~The Duke of Lancaster
Despite finding that she was again alone in a carriage with Michael, Hope wasn’t tempted to do much more than sit…and think. Having directed the driver toward their next destination, Cochrane’s house, she knew in a very short time Michael would have to begin the questioning all over again.
Frankly, Hope was stunned by everything she had seen and heard that day. She wondered briefly if Lord Cochrane was the person Cochrane-Johnstone had alluded to as “backing out”. She doubted it, as it sounded as if he planned to pin the entire crime on his nephew’s shoulders all along, as appalling as t
hat was to Hope. However, it did provide a glimmer of hope that her father was the man to back out, but Hope did not have much enthusiasm for that idea, either.
With a long sigh, Hope decided she was tired; too tired for someone her age to be. She looked over at Michael. He was lost in his own musings, staring blankly at the carriage window. Hope knew that he was not really seeing anything, for he hadn’t even pulled back the heavy muslin curtain blocking the worst of the cold wind whipping past them.
Hope took the opportunity to examine him unobserved.
He really was a very handsome man. His hair, thick and wavy, just begged for fingers to be run through it, and his deep, unimaginably intelligent blue eyes, when turned upon her with warm desire, never failed to have Hope melting at the knees. His broad shoulders and imposing frame made her feel safe and protected as no man ever had before. And beyond all that, his innate good manners and kind heart made it impossible not to love him. Hope was rather surprised that all the women of the ton were not vying for his hand…and heart.
Of course, there were always young girls being tossed in his path by their marriage-minded mothers—he was a wealthy young viscount, after all—but the other, more seasoned debutantes gave him wide berth. Hope had heard that they were unimpressed by his desire to be involved in his land holdings and properties. He was not content to leave their care to others, but rather wanted to oversee the work and tenants himself. There were whispers that he was no better than someone working in the trades.
Hope found all of the gossip silly and ridiculous, and absolutely of no concern to her. Personally, she liked that Michael was not the frivolous sort; that he cared enough about his estates and the people living on them, that he wanted to be involved. Hope was sure his industriousness came from being born a second son and from his time in the service. It was only by chance that he became viscount. Why should he be expected to stop being a contributing member of society simply because he was given free license to be idle?
No, all the scandalous rumors just made Hope like Michael all the more.
Spurred into action by her thoughts, Hope moved over to his side, slid her hand through his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder.
…
Michael looked over at the lovely creature by his side and smiled softly. Wrapping her hand tighter about his arm and holding it firmly, he took strength from her.
This mission was becoming far more involved than he ever expected. Friends and families were being torn apart, lives were being ruined, and tensions were ever rising. And Michael had an awful feeling that it was only going to get worse…especially for Hope.
Opening his mouth to say something—he wasn’t precisely sure what—Michael was interrupted by the carriage rolling to a stop. Lifting the window covering, Michael could see they were in front of the same house he had seen De Berenger visit earlier in the week.
Reluctant to move away from Hope, Michael opened the door and jumped down. Hope followed wearily, and Michael felt another stab of worry. This was all too much for her. Maybe tonight at the ball they could forget this blasted conspiracy for a while and just have a little fun.
Ringing the bell almost immediately produced the servant Michael most wished to interview—Cochrane’s butler, a somewhat elderly fellow who went by the name of Davidson. If the man was surprised in the least that he was the person they wished to see, his impassive face didn’t show it. He let them inside to escape the cold and the three stood in the foyer to conduct their conversation.
“Davidson,” Michael began in his direct no-nonsense manner, “we are here to discuss what you remember about a visitor Lord Cochrane had last Tuesday.”
Davidson gave a single nod of understanding, but said nothing.
“Do you recall anyone dropping by to see your master on Tuesday?”
Again the butler nodded once and again he said nothing.
Michael tried again. “Can you tell me who visited on Tuesday?”
For the third time, Davidson just nodded and Michael was about ready to hit the man.
Laying a calming hand on Michael’s arm, Hope interjected, “Davidson, what is the name of the person, or persons, that called on Tuesday.”
Davidson turned his somber gaze on Hope and said, “A Captain De Berenger called Tuesday near the noon-hour.”
“Finally,” Michael muttered, silently thanking Hope and reminding himself to stop asking yes or no questions which could be answered with a simple nod or shake of the head. Lesson learned, he thought with exasperation, as he said. “How was he dressed?”
Raising his eyebrow, the only movement Michael had seen in the man’s face since they arrived, Davidson expressed his disdain at having to answer such a familiar question. “He was wearing a uniform of some kind; green, I believe.”
Nodding, Michael continued. “And he was here because…”
“I’m sure I do not know, sir.”
“You didn’t overhear the reason for his visit?” Michael asked in disbelief. In his experience, butlers knew everything that went on in their households. Born eavesdroppers, butlers were—and maids, housekeepers, footmen…well, servants in general, if he were being honest. It was simply understood…if you wanted to know what was going on in a household, talk to the servants.
A crisp shake of his head and the iciest stare he had ever seen was all the answer Michael received from the grave man.
Realizing they weren’t going to get anything else from Davidson, Michael thanked the man and they were immediately escorted back out into the cold.
…
On the way to the door, Hope caught a glimpse of a young maid peeking out from a room at the end of the entryway.
Giving the girl a smile, Hope was surprised when the maid motioned to her in a way that indicated they should meet her outside at the side of the house. Before Hope could even nod in reply, the servant disappeared, making Hope wonder if she had imagined it all.
Once outside, Hope and Michael walked toward their carriage until Hope heard the door close firmly behind them, then grabbing Michael’s arm, she began heading toward the small ribbon of yard running between Lord Cochrane’s house and the manor next door.
“What are you doing?” Michael wondered.
“I saw a maid…I think she wants us to meet her.”
“All right,” Michael said doubtfully as they turned the corner and saw…absolutely nothing. No one coming, no one already there…nothing.
“Hmph,” Hope huffed. “I could have sworn…wait…there…”
Down about halfway the length of the building, Hope could see a hand waving some sort of cloth out the first floor window. Glancing at Michael with raised brows, she accepted his bowed apology and motioned that she should lead the way. With a grin, she complied.
Upon reaching the window, situated some five or six feet off the ground, Hope and Michael saw a maid—the same one that had communicated with Hope earlier—and an older woman, presumably the housekeeper, nervously awaiting their arrival.
“Good afternoon,” Michael said graciously.
“Sir. My lady,” they responded in unison, with nods in lieu of curtseys.
Hope visibly started when she heard them greet her as ‘my lady’.
Glancing quickly at Michael, who seemed equally astonished, Hope had to ask the women, “How did you know?”
“Know that you were a lady, my lady?” the older woman replied with a grin.
“Yes.”
The woman shrugged and said, “I suppose it was the way you calmed the lord down, it was. So lady-like. B‘sides, no man I’ve ever seen was as pretty as you…not even the lord here.” The older woman winked bawdily at Michael, who reddened slightly and coughed reflexively as if hiding his amusement.
Hope was not so restrained and laughed out loud.
“He is a handsome one, isn’t he?” Hope agreed as she looked at him teasingly.
The maid and housekeeper exchanged a look.
“There will be some pretty babies from
these two, no doubt about it,” the housekeeper said to the maid, who nodded in apparent agreement.
Now it was Hope’s turn to blush, and Michael looked positively panic-stricken.
The maid’s worried voice changed the mood of the conversation immediately, however.
“We ‘ad better tell ‘em quick, don’t ye think, ma’am?”
“Ah, yes, Maude. Wouldn’t do for Davidson to catch us,” the housekeeper agreed, before turning back to Hope and Michael. “We overheard you talking to old stone-face, and he didn’t quite tell you the whole truth about why that De Berenger fellow was here.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, we were in the room cleaning, you know—”
“Invis’ble, ye mean,” Maude interrupted dryly.
“Yes, well…that hardly signifies,” the housekeeper said dismissively before continuing, “and we heard the whole thing.”
“Wonderful, Mrs. — er…”
“Carey, my lady. Mrs. Carey.”
Hope smiled and said, “And what was the reason for De Berenger’s visit, Mrs. Carey?”
“Oh, he was here to ask the admiral for passage on some ship of his to the colonies. That is it and all.”
…
Michael exchanged a look with Hope. It was as Cochrane had said. There was no conspiracy here. He was simply a man being set up for a crime he had no part in. It was unconscionable.
Nodding with satisfaction, Michael looked at Hope inquisitively. Hope indicated she was also done and gave the ladies a grateful smile of farewell before turning toward the front of the house.
“That lady’s smile could brighten even the darkest of days,” Michael overheard Mrs. Carey say to Maude as he turned to followed Hope.
“Perhaps she should spend a little time with Davidson then, ma’am,” was Maude’s wistful reply.
Michael had to chuckle. Honestly, if anyone could thaw “old stone-face”, it would be Hope, but he wasn’t about to volunteer her for the task. Cochrane’s staff was just going to have to fend for themselves.
Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (Entangled Scandalous) Page 12
