by Amanda Quick
Ibbitts took a step back, clearly caught off balance. “There must be some mistake, sir.”
Arthur closed the leather-bound volume. “The mistake was not letting you go several months ago, Ibbitts. However, I intend to rectify that error now. You will pack your bags and leave this house immediately.”
“Sir, you said yourself that your man-of-business is ill.” Ibbitts was both furious and frantic. “He must have written down the wrong amounts.”
“He has been too ill to leave his house in order to see what was happening for himself, but he is entirely lucid, I assure you. These amounts were paid to you so that you could, in turn, pay the servants. You obviously did not inform Ormesby when members of the staff gave notice. Instead, you continued to collect their wages. I suspect you have pocketed that money. I want you out of here within the hour.”
Elenora leaped to her feet. “I knew you would do the right thing, sir.”
Arthur sighed. “Please sit down, Elenora.”
Her mouth tightened, but she sat.
Ibbitts was stunned. “You’re letting me go?”
“Of course I’m letting you go.” Arthur reached behind his chair and tugged on a velvet bell pull. “You’re a liar and a blackmailer. Consider yourself fortunate that I’m not having you placed under arrest.”
The library door opened. Ned stood there, looking scared but determined.
“Yes, m’lord?” he said.
“Ibbitts is no longer employed in this household. You will accompany him to his room while he packs his possessions. Make certain that he does not help himself to any of the silver on the way out the door. Is that clear?”
Ned glanced from Arthur to the scowling Ibbitts and back again. The anxiety evaporated from his eyes.
“Aye, sir,” he said in a firmer tone. “I’ll see him out the back door for ye.”
Ibbitts’s face twisted with fury and scorn. “I suggest that you ask Sally and Ned for references concerning their characters, m’lord. You’ll soon find out that they cannot supply any. Sally lost her post because she lifted her skirts for her employer’s heir. Ned here lost his because he took her side when she tried to deny what she’d done.”
Ned’s hands tightened into fists.
Elenora came up out of her chair. “I do not doubt Sally and Ned’s version of the story for a moment. It is Ibbitts who has proved himself untrustworthy.”
Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I would appreciate it if you would stay seated, Miss Lodge. All this popping up and down is rather tiresome.”
“Sorry.”
She sank back down into her chair with obvious reluctance. Arthur could see the toe of one of her slippers tapping impatiently on the carpet. It occurred to him that her short career as a paid companion had done little to alter what was obviously her natural inclination to take command.
In spite of all the problems facing him at the moment, he was amused. Elenora no doubt found this business of deferring to him extremely vexing.
He fixed his attention on Ned. “You and Sally will both remain in your present posts. Furthermore, I will see to it that the wages Ibbitts forced you to pay to him are refunded immediately.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ned stuttered, clearly astonished.
Arthur gestured toward the door. “On your way, Ibbitts. I have wasted enough time on this matter.”
Ibbitts’s jaw clenched with rage. He gave Elenora a vengeful glare as he stalked past her.
Arthur waited until Ibbitts had reached the door before he spoke again.
“One more thing, Ibbitts,” he said, steepling his fingers. “There seems to be some confusion regarding Miss Lodge’s status in this household.”
“I know her status right enough,” Ibbitts muttered. “She’s nothing more than a paid companion.”
“You are mistaken in that assumption.” Arthur kept his tone very even. “I intend to marry Miss Lodge. She will most certainly be the future mistress of this household. If you make the mistake of spreading tales to the contrary, you will have cause to regret it. Do I make myself clear?”
With a quick sideways glance, he saw Elenora’s eyes widen.
Ibbitts bared his teeth. “Whatever you want to call her is your affair, m’lord.”
“Yes,” Arthur agreed. “It is. You may go now.”
Ibbitts stomped through the doorway. Ned closed the door and followed him, leaving Arthur alone with Margaret and Elenora.
“Well,” Margaret said. “That was certainly exciting.” She smiled at Elenora with great satisfaction. “I told you that Arthur would settle matters. Now you can instruct Sally to unpack your trunk.”
Arthur went cold inside. He looked at Elenora, trying not to let his reaction show on his face.
“You packed?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.” She cleared her throat. “I did not think that you would be needing my services after you discovered that Ibbitts was aware that I am merely an employee and not your real fiancée.”
Margaret looked at him. “When Elenora confronted him, Ibbitts revealed that he knew all about your scheme. He actually tried to blackmail her, if you can believe it.”
Arthur sat back in his chair, thinking about what had just happened. “Ibbitts tried to extort money from you in exchange for keeping silent about your position here?”
“Yes.” She brushed that aside. “But that was nothing compared to the vile manner in which he treated Sally and Ned. I can take care of myself. Those two are far more vulnerable.”
Arthur wondered if she knew how rare her sense of responsibility was among those who moved in Polite Circles. In that world chambermaids were routinely let go when a male member of the household got them pregnant, and an aging housekeeper might be dismissed without a pension when she was no longer able to carry out her duties.
Elenora shook her head. “I did warn you, sir, that it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to keep secrets from your staff.”
“I would take it as a kindness if you would refrain from pointing out the error of my ways,” he said mildly.
She flushed. “My apologies, sir.”
He sighed. “Never mind, you were right.”
Her brows drew together in a troubled expression. “I really do not see how I can remain in my present position now that someone as untrustworthy as Ibbitts is aware of the truth.”
“I see no reason to alter course,” he said. “The scheme appears to be working as I intended. Society is riveted on you, leaving me free—” He paused, reminding himself that Margaret was still in the room. “Free to conduct my business.”
“But if Ibbitts succeeds in starting gossip concerning my true position in this household, your scheme will no longer be viable.”
Her insistence on trying to remove herself from the role he had employed her to act struck an unexpected spark against the flint of his self-control.
“What I see,” he said, pronouncing each word with deliberate emphasis, “is that you are the only hope I’ve got of carrying out this plan. Furthermore, given the rather handsome wages I am paying you, I think I have every right to expect a most convincing performance. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Margaret blinked in astonishment at his sharp words.
Elenora merely inclined her head with excruciating formality, letting him know that she was annoyed but not intimidated.
“Of course, my lord,” she said dryly. “I will endeavor to give satisfaction.”
“Thank you.” What the devil had made him snap at her like that? He never allowed himself to lose his temper.
Margaret hastened to smooth over the unpleasantness. “Really, Elenora, you must not be concerned about what Ibbitts might say. Who in Society would take the word of a butler dismissed without references over that of the Earl of St. Merryn?”
“I know, but he is aware that the story we have put about as a jest is, indeed, the truth.”
“Even if Ibbitts were to gossip about you, he can do no harm. He will only b
e seen to be repeating the tale,” Margaret assured her.
“She is correct,” Arthur said. “Calm youself, Elenora. Ibbitts need not cause us any concern.”
“I suppose you are right,” Elenora said. But she did not look satisfied.
Margaret sighed. “Well, that’s settled, then. You’re staying, Elenora.”
Elenora frowned. “That reminds me, we seem to find ourselves somewhat short of staff.”
Yet another problem to be resolved before he could proceed with his investigation, Arthur thought wearily. He picked up a pen and reached for a sheet of paper. “I will send a message around to an agency.”
“There is no need to waste your time dealing with a series of candidates sent out by an agency,” Elenora said crisply. “Sally has two sisters in need of employment. One of them is evidently an excellent cook. The other will be happy to take on the duties of a chambermaid. I think Sally will do well as our new housekeeper. Also, Ned has an uncle and a cousin who are skilled gardeners. As it happens, their last employer just sold his townhouse and let his entire staff go, so they are looking for positions. I suggest we hire the lot.”
Margaret clapped her hands. “Good heavens, Elenora, you are amazing. It sounds as though you have the problem of staffing completely in hand.”
Arthur was so greatly relieved to be rid of the burden of finding new servants that he could have swept Elenora up into his arms and kissed her.
“I leave the matter in your hands,” he said very formally instead.
She acknowledged that with a casual nod, but he thought she seemed rather pleased.
That was one pressing issue out of the way, he thought, spirits rising.
“If you will both excuse me, I must go upstairs to change my gown.” Margaret rose to her feet and went toward the door. “Mr. Fleming will be here soon. We are going to visit some bookshops this afternoon.”
Arthur got to his feet and crossed the room to open the door for her. She hurried out into the hall and disappeared. When he glanced back and saw that Elenora was about to follow, he held up a hand.
“If you don’t mind,” he said quietly. “I would like to discuss with you what I learned from John Watt.”
She stopped midway across the carpet, her face brightening with excitement. “You found him?”
“Yes, thanks to your suggestion that I talk to his sweetheart.” He glanced at the clock. “It is after four. I will send for the carriage and we will take a turn around the park. The sight of you and me together will serve to reinforce the notion that we are, indeed, engaged, and we will have privacy for our conversation.”
16
It was just going on five o’clock when Arthur drove the sleek carriage through the gates of the large park. Perched next to him, dressed in her new blue carriage gown with its matching hat, Elenora reminded herself for the thousandth time that she was merely a paid companion who had been employed to perform a part. But deep down she could not resist the temptation to pretend for just a little while that the play had become reality and that Arthur had invited her to drive with him because he wanted to be with her.
The scene spread out before her was lively and colorful. The spring afternoon was sunny and warm and, as was the custom in town, many in the Polite World had come to the park to see and be seen.
The tops of many of the vehicles had been lowered to better display the elegantly dressed passengers. Several gentlemen rode exquisitely turned-out mounts on a neighboring path. They paused frequently to greet those in the carriages, exchange gossip and flirt with the ladies. Couples who took a turn around the park together were, in fact, announcing to Society that marriage plans had either been arranged or were being seriously considered.
Elenora was not surprised to discover that Arthur handled the reins the way he did everything else, with a smooth, efficient skill and quiet authority. The beautifully matched, well-schooled grays responded instantly to his touch.
“I located Watt in a livery stable,” Arthur said.
“Was he able to tell you any details concerning your great-uncle’s death?”
“Watt said that on the day of the murder, he and Uncle George spent the better part of the afternoon working on some experiments in the laboratory. After the evening meal, George retired to his bedchamber upstairs. Watt went to bed, too. His bedchamber is located downstairs, near the laboratory.”
“Did he hear anything that night?”
Arthur nodded grimly. “Watt said he was sound asleep but was jolted into wakefulness by some odd noises and what he thought was a muffled cry from inside the laboratory.”
“He went to investigate?”
“Yes. It was not uncommon for Uncle George to go back into his laboratory late at night to check on the results of an experiment or make notes in his journal. Watt feared that he had had some mishap. But the door of the laboratory was locked. Watt had to retrieve a key from his bedside table. While he was doing so, he heard two pistol shots.”
“Dear heaven. Did he see the killer?”
“No. By the time he got into the laboratory, the villain had fled through a window.”
“What of your great-uncle?”
“Watt found him on the floor, dying in a pool of blood.”
Elenora shuddered at the thought of that scene. “How dreadful.”
“Uncle George was still partially conscious. He mumbled some words before he died. Watt said that they made no sense to him. He assumed that George was experiencing some strange hallucination brought on by the mortal injury.”
“Did Watt recall what he said?’
“Yes,” Arthur said evenly. “According to him, my great-uncle’s dying words were meant for me. George said, Tell Arthur that Mercury is still alive.”
Elenora caught her breath. “Then you are right, sir, this does concern your great-uncle’s old companions and those strange red stones.”
“Yes. But I have been proceeding on the assumption that Mercury was dead.” His mouth twisted. “I ought to have known better than to arrive at any conclusions without proof.”
She studied the tight brackets at the corners of his mouth. Her earlier irritation evaporated. “Tell me, my lord, are you always so quick to shoulder all of the responsibility when things go wrong?”
He gave her a quick, frowning glance. “What sort of question is that? I assume the responsibility that is mine.”
“And then some, I think.” She noticed that two expensively garbed ladies in a passing carriage were watching her and Arthur with the avid expressions of a pair of cats eyeing potential prey. Quite deliberately she angled her dainty parasol to block their view. “It has become clear to me in the short time that I have known you that you are far too accustomed to the dictates of duty. You accept whatever obligations are thrust upon your shoulders as though they were your lot in life.”
“Perhaps that is because responsibility is my lot in life,” he said dryly. “I control a considerable fortune, and I am the head of a very large family. In addition to any number of relatives, a great many tenants, farmers, servants and laborers depend upon me in one way or another. Given that situation, I do not see how I can escape the demands of duty.”
“I did not mean to imply that you should attempt to evade your obligations,” she said quickly.
He was amused. “I am pleased to know that you did not intend any criticism, because my intuition tells me that you and I have a great deal in common when it comes to the manner in which we feel the weight of our responsibilities.”
“Oh, I hardly think—”
“Take, for example, the way in which you rushed to Sally’s rescue today. There was no need to get involved.”
“Rubbish. You know very well that one cannot listen to such vile threats and remain silent.”
“Some people could have done so without a qualm, telling themselves that they had no responsibility in the matter.” He drew in the reins slightly. “I think we are also alike in other ways as well, Miss Lodge.”
&
nbsp; “What do you mean?” she asked, wary now.
He shrugged. “Having interrupted that scene between Ibbitts and Sally, you could have surrendered to Ibbitts’s blackmail in order to protect your position in the household.”
“Nonsense.”
“There was, after all, a fair amount of money at stake. Triple your wages plus a bonus. Even split in half with an extortionist, that is far more than you can expect to make in a year’s employment as a companion elsewhere.”
“One cannot give in to extortion.” She adjusted the parasol. “You know very well that had you been in my shoes, you certainly would not have done so.”
He merely smiled, as though she had proved his point for him.
She frowned. “Oh. I see what you mean. Perhaps we do share some character traits. But that was not quite what I meant.”
“What did you mean, Miss Lodge?”
“I believe that what I am trying to describe may have more to do with your excessive sense of self-mastery. Your notions of what is right and proper for you to do. I believe you may demand more of yourself than is strictly necessary, if you see what I mean.”
“No. I don’t see what you mean, Miss Lodge.”
Exasperated, she moved the parasol in a somewhat random manner. “Let me put it this way, my lord. What do you do to make yourself happy?”
There was a short, stark silence.
Elenora held her breath, wondering if he thought that she had overstepped her bounds as an employee yet again. She braced herself for an icy set-down.
Then she noticed the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Is this a polite way of informing me that I am not particularly charming, witty, clever or amusing?” he asked. “If so, you could have saved your breath. Others have already made that observation.”
“I once loved a man who was charming, witty, clever and amusing,” she said. “He claimed to love me in return. In the end he proved to be a faithless liar and a coldhearted fortune hunter. As a result, I am not very keen on the charming, witty, clever and amusing sort.”
