The Virgin who Bewitched Lord Lymington

by Anna Bradley

  “Lady Lymington,” Samuel interrupted. “I wish to see you and Emma in my study.”

  “Or not,” Lovell muttered.

  “At once.” Samuel’s voice was calm, but once again every head jerked toward him, as if he’d just fired a pistol in the middle of the breakfast room. He offered them all a stiff bow, then strode to the door and waited, as if it never occurred to him either his mother or Emma would dare to disobey him.

  Nor did they. Emma cast a nervous glance at Lady Crosby, but she followed Lady Lymington out of the room, avoiding Samuel’s gaze as she passed.

  The three of them maintained their tense silence as they made their way from the breakfast room to Samuel’s study, but Lady Lymington spoke up as soon as he’d closed the door behind them. “I don’t pretend to know what’s happened between you and Miss Downing, Samuel, but I refuse to tolerate any more of your scowling and barking orders. You seem to have forgotten you’re a gentleman.”

  “I agree, madam.” Samuel offered Emma a stiff bow. “I beg your pardon, Miss Downing.”

  Deprived of her righteous indignation, Lady Lymington visibly deflated. “Yes, well, that’s better. I do hope you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head from now on, Samuel, because whatever your personal feelings about Miss Downing may be, we need her help. I can’t bear not knowing what’s happened to Amy and Kitty a moment longer.”

  Samuel’s first childish impulse was to declare that he didn’t need Miss Downing for anything at all, but he bit the words back, ashamed of himself. He didn’t want Emma here at Lymington House, but there was no arguing with his mother’s logic. Whatever his objections to Emma’s presence, she’d already proved that she knew a great deal more about his missing housemaids than he did.

  “Again, I agree, madam. I’ve called you both here so we can tell Miss Downing all we know about Amy’s and Kitty’s disappearances. I thought it might be helpful to her.” The sooner they pieced this puzzle together and brought the culprit to justice, the sooner Emma Downing could be gone from Lymington House.

  That was what Samuel wanted, for her to be gone. He could already feel himself weakening toward her. If she remained under his roof much longer, it would only be a matter of time before he was inviting her to walk in the gardens with him, then the next thing he knew, he’d be feeding her hothouse strawberries at breakfast every morning, or something equally ridiculous.

  “That would be helpful, indeed.” Emma continued to avoid Samuel’s eyes, addressing herself instead to Lady Lymington.

  “Please do sit down.” Samuel waved them toward a seating area near the fire, and crossed the room to pull the bell to order a tray, since he’d dragged both of them off to his study before they could have a bite of breakfast.

  His mother and Emma carried on an excruciatingly polite if stilted conversation while they waited for the tray to arrive and the footman to arrange the dishes on the adjacent table, but once the servant had gone and his mother had poured the tea, Emma didn’t waste any time. “It would be helpful, Lady Lymington, if you could tell me what you know about Amy and Kitty first.”

  Lady Lymington set her teacup aside with a sigh. “I’ll tell you what I can, but I don’t know how much help it will be.”

  “Even the smallest detail could prove useful, my lady. You’d be surprised at how often the most insignificant things can shed light on a mystery such as this.” Emma gave her an encouraging smile. “Just take your time, and tell me what you can.”

  “Yes, all right. Amy Townshend was a good girl. Oh, a trifle silly, perhaps, in the way of many young girls, but sweet-natured, with a pretty face and pretty manners. She disappeared in late August, as near as I can tell.”

  Emma frowned. “As near as you can tell? Is there some confusion over the date she went missing?”

  “Yes. You see, I didn’t realize Amy had gone missing at all until after Kitty Yardley vanished. Before that, I thought she’d simply run off with her suitor.”

  “Her suitor?” Emma’s blue eyes sharpened. “Amy had a suitor? Who was he?”

  “She had a suitor, or a sweetheart, or some such thing, yes. I don’t know who he was, or anything much about him, as I try to avoid servant’s gossip, but I daresay Hannah could tell you more. She’s one of our kitchen maids. She and Amy shared a bedchamber, and were great friends.”

  “But there was a suitor, or a sweetheart, or some gentleman or other? You’re certain about that?”

  “Yes, quite certain.”

  Emma nodded. “You’re already proving tremendously helpful, Lady Lymington.”

  “Am I, indeed?” Lady Lymington’s face flushed with pleasure. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I do so want to help, Miss Downing.”

  “You are. Now, you said you thought Amy had run away with her sweetheart, until Kitty also went missing. When was that?”

  “About six weeks later, in October, five weeks or so after Lord Lovell was sent down from Oxford and returned to Lymington House.”

  Emma bit her lip, thinking. “Did Kitty have a sweetheart, as well?”

  “Oh, goodness, no. Kitty was a quiet, meek little thing—terribly shy, you know, so much so she didn’t have many friends even among the other servants.”

  “There’s no question of Kitty’s having run off, then?”

  “Well, it did occur to me at first that she might have run off home. She comes from a large, close family, Miss Downing, and I know she was dreadfully homesick for them, but Kitty isn’t the sort to leave without giving notice. It wasn’t until after Kitty vanished that I began to wonder if Amy hadn’t run off, after all. Two missing servants, you know, are a great deal more sinister than one.”

  “Sinister indeed, my lady.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I regret not realizing it sooner, Miss Downing. It’s haunted me for weeks, that I might have been able to prevent Kitty from meeting such a dreadful fate.”

  “You couldn’t have known, Lady Lymington. The sad truth is, young girls like Amy are lured from their homes far more often than they’re kidnapped. Given the circumstances, you had no reason to suspect foul play.”

  “Perhaps that’s so, but it’s small comfort now.” Lady Lymington’s eyes filled with tears. “I know it may seem to you as if I don’t care about what happened to my housemaids, but I assure you, Miss Downing, that isn’t the case. I care very much, indeed.”

  Samuel reached out to grasp his mother’s hand, alarmed at her tears, but before he could say a word, Emma spoke, her voice soft with compassion. “I can see you do, my lady. Try and remember, won’t you, that you’re not the villain here? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Lady Lymington nodded, sniffling, and Samuel listened, throat tight as Emma murmured soothingly to Lady Lymington while she gathered herself together. Only then did Emma resume her questions. “Can you tell me anything more about either Amy or Kitty, my lady?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Lady Lymington dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It was a dreadfully confusing time, Miss Downing. Lord Lovell’s father had recently passed, and we were all waiting for Samuel to return to England, and then Lovell ran off to London, and got into that dreadful duel. I was torn in a half-dozen different directions, and didn’t pay attention as I ought to have done.”

  “I understand, my lady. When did Lord Lovell leave for London?”

  Lady Lymington thought for a moment. “I don’t recall the precise date, but it was the middle of January, a week or two after Twelfth Night. It was very bad of him. We were all in mourning for his father at the time, you know.”

  “In mourning, yes,” Emma repeated slowly. “So it might reasonably be expected by anyone who happened to be interested in your movements that you’d all remain at Lymington House for some months. What of Caroline Francis? Did you happen to notice any change in her behavior at this time?”

  “I did, yes. She
was distracted, and frequently disappeared with no explanation. It occurred to me at the time she’d also found a sweetheart, just as Amy had. You can imagine how displeased I was at that, Miss Downing, but before I could question her, poor Lovell was shot, and we all left Lymington House for London.”

  Samuel was watching Emma, who was now perched on the edge of her chair. “Let me just make certain I have this right, Lady Lymington. The family was here at Lymington House, Lord Lovell included, mourning his father’s passing. In that time, Caroline Francis found herself a suitor. Then, against all expectations, Lord Lovell ran off to London, where he was injured in a duel. Is that correct?”

  Lady Lymington nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

  For the first time that morning, Emma’s gaze met Samuel’s. “Caroline Francis was meant to meet the same fate as Amy and Kitty, and Lord Lovell meant to be blamed for it, but he left for London before the culprit could finish off Caroline. Lovell’s sudden departure would have upset all the culprit’s plans, as Lovell could hardly be held responsible for Caroline’s disappearance if he was no longer at Lymington House.”

  “That was how she ended up at the Pink Pearl,” Samuel said, picking up the thread. “The culprit’s plans went badly awry once Lovell left for London, and he was forced to change tactics at the last minute.”

  “The best-laid plans…” Emma murmured.

  “So he brought Caroline to the Pink Pearl, with instructions to spread the lie that Lovell had seduced and abandoned her there, and to implicate him in Amy’s and Kitty’s disappearances.”

  “And Caroline did just as he bid her, by telling the lies to Helena, who then told them to me, but neither he nor Caroline knew about Lord Lovell’s duel. You must have returned to England very soon after your cousin was shot, Lord Lymington, in order to keep the gossips from discovering it.”

  “Less than a day afterward, yes.”

  “You all remained in London for weeks while Lord Lovell recovered, and then decided to stay for the season, so Lord Lovell might woo Lady Flora while Lord Lymington questioned Caroline Francis.”

  “Yes, but no one would have anticipated we’d come to London for the season at all, given the proper mourning period for Lovell’s father. Our presence must have taken the culprit by surprise.”

  Emma nodded. “I imagine he panicked when you appeared at the Pink Pearl asking for Caroline. So he made certain to keep her away from you by engaging her for private appointments.”

  Samuel shook his head, stunned. “Dear God, a man such as that, a man of such cold, deliberate calculation must be an utter monster.”

  Lady Lymington was wringing her hands. “Samuel?”

  In all the excitement, Samuel had nearly forgotten his mother. He jerked his attention back to her, shame sweeping over him at the sight of her distress. He shot to his feet, holding his hand out to her. “You’re unwell, my lady. I’ll take you to your rooms at once.”

  “Wait, my lord. I beg your pardon, Lady Lymington, but there is one more thing.” Emma reached into the pocket of her skirts and withdrew something. “Do either of you recognize this pendant, or the young boy in the portrait?”

  She gave it to Lady Lymington, who studied it for a moment, then returned it to Emma, shaking her head. “No. I’ve never seen it before, and I don’t recognize the boy.”

  “Lord Lymington?” Emma asked, holding the pendant out to him.

  The portrait of the dark-haired boy was tiny but exquisite, and the diamonds studding the oval of good quality. “It’s very fine.” Samuel rubbed the pad of his thumb over the gems, studying the young face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know the piece. Where did you get it?”

  Emma took it from him and slipped it back into her pocket. “It’s his.”

  Samuel frowned. “His? What, you mean it belongs to the culprit?”

  “Yes. Caroline took it from him, the night before she disappeared. She gave it to Helena, and Helena gave it to me.” Emma thought for a moment, then turned to Lady Lymington. “I wonder, my lady, if you’d mind doing something for me?”

  “Not at all, Miss Downing. What do you need?”

  “Would you be so good as to invite your neighbors and friends to Lymington House for a supper, or perhaps a ball? I beg your pardon for putting you to such trouble, but I have good reason to think the culprit wants this pendant back. If he has the chance to turn up at Lymington House without attracting suspicion, I think he’ll come after it.”

  Samuel went still.

  Surely, Emma wasn’t suggesting she’d use herself to lure the scoundrel into the open? That she’d sacrifice her own safety—even her life—to bring the villain to justice? No, she couldn’t possibly be so reckless, so foolish.

  Except…it had sounded like that was precisely what she meant to do.

  “For God’s sakes, Emma, have you gone mad?” Samuel rounded on her, grasping her shoulders, fear making his hands shake.

  Lady Lymington looked between them with wide eyes. “Er, perhaps I’ll just retire to my rooms, then.”

  “It’s a waste of time and effort, Emma! What makes you think he’ll risk coming to Lymington House to get that pendant?” In truth, Samuel was terrified the scoundrel would come to Lymington House, and he’d find the pendant hanging around Emma’s neck.

  The very thought made his blood run cold.

  “He attacked Helena Reeves in Bennets Court to get the pendant back, Lord Lymington. I hardly think he’ll draw the line at coming to Lymington House.”

  “I’ll see you both at tea, then,” Lady Lymington said, trying again.

  Neither Samuel nor Emma heard her, and neither noticed it when she left the study.

  “So you intend to put yourself in his way, so he can attack you? No, Emma. I forbid it.”

  He knew he’d said the wrong thing when her chin shot up. “You forbid it? Forgive me, my lord, but it’s not your place to forbid me anything.”

  Dear God, the woman was driving him mad. “The devil it isn’t! In case you’ve forgotten, you’re in my house, Emma.”

  “Oh, I’m not likely to forget that, Lord Lymington. In case you’ve forgotten, you nearly threw me out of your house last night.”

  Samuel blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t been as bad as that, had he? He was angry with Emma, yes, but he would never dream of doing such a thing.

  Emma let out a sigh when he didn’t answer. “It’s not as if I’m alone in this endeavor, you know. I have help.”

  “From whom, Lady Crosby? You intend to put a tiny old lady between yourself and a cold-blooded murderer?”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Not Lady Crosby. Don’t be absurd.”

  “Who, then?” For one wild moment, Samuel wanted her to say she had him, but she dashed those hopes in an instant.

  “Daniel Brixton, my lord.”

  “What, Lady Crosby’s coachman?”

  “He’s, ah…he’s not Lady Crosby’s coachman, Lord Lymington. He works for Lady Clifford, just as I do.”

  Of course, he did.

  Samuel gritted his teeth. “Well, that makes sense, at least. It’s the one thing you’ve said in the past few minutes that does, Emma.”

  Her chin hitched up another notch. “I suppose you have another suggestion, a better way to catch this blackguard? Very well, my lord. I’m listening.”

  He did have another suggestion, that is, he must, but…damn it, he couldn’t think. “Why are you doing this, Emma? Why would you risk yourself like this?”

  “Why?” She gazed up at him, her secrets and nightmares and all the things she hid right there in her eyes. “Because Lady Clifford did it for me, and now it’s my turn.”

  Samuel’s hands tightened on her shoulders. He couldn’t bear it if something happened to her, if she were hurt in any way. “You can’t save them, Emma. Amy, and Kitty and Caroline. It’s too late.”


  “It’s too late for them, yes.” Emma’s smile was sad as she gently disentangled herself from his grasp. “But I can still save myself, Samuel. It’s not too late for me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The ball at Lymington House

  Five days later

  “I’m amazed Lord Lymington didn’t insist upon coming into your bedchamber while you dressed for the ball this evening, Emma.”

  Emma was sitting at the dressing table, fussing with the blue ribbons Flora’s lady’s maid had woven into her hair, but after a few half-hearted tugs she gave up, and let the ribbons lie where they might. What did her hair matter, anyway?

  She met Lady Crosby’s gaze in the mirror. “He has been unusually attentive.”

  “Attentive?” Lady Crosby gave a delicate snort. “The man hasn’t let you out of his sight for the past five days. He’s like a hound on a scent.”

  A fierce, growly hound, yes—one that heartily resented the fox it was chasing. “He makes even Daniel look negligent, doesn’t he?”

  “Positively neglectful, yes. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to find him outside your bedchamber door at this very moment, waiting to pounce on you as soon as you set foot into the hallway.”

  Emma set her hairbrush aside with a sigh. “Nor would I.”

  She’d been sure she was imagining it at first, until she caught him trailing behind her one late afternoon as she wandered through the formal gardens. He’d dodged behind a shrub, but it hadn’t done much to conceal him, as he was half a head taller than it was.

  Since then, every time she turned around, Samuel was there, hovering at the edges, his dark eyes following her every move. He didn’t speak to her any more than politeness demanded, or appear inclined to engage her in any way.

  Emma couldn’t make heads or tails of his behavior, until at last it dawned on her he’d taken it upon himself to defend her from whatever criminals happened to be lurking about Lymington House.

  If he’d been another sort of man, his devotion might have raised a fragile hope in her poor, battered heart, but Samuel’s fierce protectiveness had little to do with her. He’d do the same for anyone in his house he believed was under threat.