Late for the Wedding

by Amanda Quick

  “Oh, I really don’t think—”

  “Trust me on this, Lavinia. Sweet Ned has all the makings of a professional villain.”

  “Perhaps. But when one considers that he no doubt grew up in the stews with no prospects for the future, one can only feel pity.”

  “I assure you, pity was most definitely not the emotion I experienced when I found him with you in that lane this afternoon.”

  She smiled. “Do not tell me that you had no soft sentiments whatsoever. You could have taken him to Bow Street, where he would no doubt have been clapped in irons and later hung. Instead, you turned him over to Smiling Jack.”

  “For all the good it will do.” Tobias looked down into the brandy. “The lad is still likely to end his life dancing on the end of a rope.”

  “If he does,” she said gently, “it will not be because you sent him there.”

  He took another swallow of brandy and said nothing. But some of the grimness eased from his expression.

  They sat together in silence for a time. After a while Tobias shifted slightly in his chair.

  “What was it Aspasia wanted to discuss with you today?”

  Lavinia swirled the sherry in her glass and took a quick sip. “She wanted to assure me that she has no designs on you.”

  “I could have told you that.” He scowled. “In fact, if memory serves, I did tell you that. In no uncertain terms.”

  “Not exactly. What you told me was that you had no romantic interest in her.”

  He shrugged. “It amounts to the same thing.”

  “Not quite,” she said coolly. “But be that as it may, I got the impression that she was ill-treated by both her father and her husband. She had vowed never to give her heart or to marry. And then she met Zachary Elland. You were right—she did, indeed, believe that they were true soul mates. She was stunned when she discovered the truth about him.”

  “I am glad that the two of you have reached a degree of mutual understanding. I just wish she hadn’t dragged you off to that damned graveyard for that particular conversation.”

  “It was not her fault. Sweet Ned followed me from the moment I left the house today. He was merely waiting for an opportunity to get me alone. If it had not been that lane outside the cemetery, it would have been somewhere else. An alley or a park, no doubt.”

  “Do not remind me.” He drank more brandy and then he set the glass down on the arm of the chair. “We must talk about why the killer would hire someone like Sweet Ned to warn you off the case.”

  “Have you a theory?”

  “I think it is likely that this new Memento-Mori Man sees you as a complication,” Tobias said. “His goal is to challenge me and to frighten Aspasia, but he has no use for you.”

  “So he wants me to simply go away?”

  “He probably believes that I will not allow you to continue to assist me on this case if I think that your life is in danger.” Tobias met her eyes. “He may be right.”

  “Do not even think about it,” she warned. “You cannot order me to stop my inquiries. I am too deeply involved now.” She broke off at the sound of a knock on the study door. “Yes, Mrs. Chilton?”

  The door opened. “Mrs. Dove and Lord Vale to see you, madam,” Mrs. Chilton said in the resonant tones she reserved for announcing distinguished guests.

  “Good heavens. Both of them?” Lavinia leaped from her chair. She had grown almost blasé about entertaining Joan, but the knowledge that Vale was here was another matter altogether. “Kindly show them into the parlor, Mrs. Chilton. And bring a tray of tea, if you would. Use the new oolong. Tell them that Mr. March and I will join them immediately.”

  “Yes, madam.” Mrs. Chilton retreated, closing the door behind her.

  “I can’t believe that Lord Vale is here in my house.” Lavinia shook out the folds of her gown and went to the mirror to check her hair. “Do you think tea is sufficient for refreshments, Tobias? Perhaps I should offer him some sherry.”

  Tobias got to his feet with a leisurely air. “Something tells me that Vale would much prefer a glass of my new French brandy.”

  She turned away from the mirror. “Excellent notion. We’ll need glasses. You go on into the parlor and I’ll have a word with Mrs. Chilton.”

  Tobias was amused. “You were not nearly this rattled this afternoon when I found you running out of that damned graveyard with a villain in pursuit.”

  “This is Lord Vale we are talking about. There are hostesses in this town who would kill to have him in their ballrooms, and he is sitting right there in my little parlor.” She made shooing motions with both hands. “Hurry. I certainly do not want him to feel that he is obliged to cool his heels when he comes to call. I’ll tell Mrs. Chilton to get the extra glasses.”

  “Ask her to put a couple of those little currant cakes on the tray, will you?” Tobias collected his brandy bottle and went leisurely toward the door. “I believe she mentioned that she had a few left over.”

  “Oh, very well. Off with you.”

  He went down the hall toward the parlor. She turned left and rushed into the kitchen.

  “Brandy glasses for the gentlemen, Mrs. Chilton,” she said. “And Mr. March requested some currant cakes.”

  Mrs. Chilton hoisted the kettle. “Aye, madam. I’ll be right in with the tray. You go tend to your guests.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She took a deep breath, composed herself, and went back down the hall. The door of the parlor was open. She swept into the room with what she hoped was a degree of aplomb.

  Vale stood at the window with Tobias. Joan was ensconced on the sofa, every fold of her fine azure-blue gown arranged with perfect precision and grace.

  “Ah, there you are, Mrs. Lake.” Vale inclined his head. “I must say you look quite well for a lady who spent the afternoon playing cat-and-mouse with a villain in a graveyard.”

  “I see Tobias has already brought you up to date.” She made her curtsy.

  “You were not hurt?” Joan asked with an anxious look.

  “I am fine, thank you.” She sat down on one of the chairs, hoping that her skirts would fall as elegantly as Joan's. “Tobias and I were just discussing the villain’s motives. He believes that the killer has decided that I am a complication and wants to frighten me into abandoning my inquiries.”

  “Your particular inquiries are what bring me here this afternoon.” Joan slanted a quick glance at Vale. “I have some information that may be helpful. Indeed, I think I have almost managed to convince his lordship that these murders are all connected to the canceled weddings.”

  Tobias gave Vale a considering look. “Is that true?”

  “I still have some difficulty with the notion,” Vale said. “But I must allow that Joan has come up with the names of three elderly ladies who do, indeed, have undeniable motives for murder. And there is no doubt but that all three of them could afford to pay a killer, if they so chose.”

  Elation soared through Lavinia. She looked at Joan. “Three elderly ladies? Tell me about them.”

  “The first is Lady Huxford. I believe she might have had good reason to commission the death of Lord Fullerton at Beaumont Castle. You will recall that he had recently got engaged to Panfield’s daughter.”

  “Yes, go on,” Lavinia said.

  “Lady Huxford is the girl’s maternal grandmother. She is in her sixties, about the same age as Fullerton. According to a very reliable source, he seduced her years ago when she was in her first Season. But he broke off the affair to contract a more advantageous marriage. Her father was wealthy enough to be able to find her another suitor before it was generally known that she had been ruined. But she was heartbroken and never forgave Fullerton.”

  “Then, one day, years later, she learns that the man who took advantage of her has made an offer for her granddaughter.” Lavinia was struck by the horror of it all. “Lady Huxford must have been beside herself with rage.”

  “But there was nothing she could say or do t
o stop the wedding from going forward. Everyone else in the family thought it an excellent match. She could hardly tell them the truth about her own past, and it might not have done any good if she had.”

  Mrs. Chilton entered with the tea tray. Tobias poured brandy into a glass and handed it to Vale.

  “Who is the second suspect on your list of possible clients?” he asked.

  “The Dowager Lady Ferring,” Joan said. “I believe she may have hired the killer to get rid of Lady Rowland, the woman who supposedly took an overdose of her own sleeping medicine. You will recall that Lady Rowland’s death resulted in the cancellation of her granddaughter’s engagement to Lady Ferring’s grandson.”

  Lavinia nodded. “You told me that Lady Rowland was obsessed with seeing her eldest daughter married into the Ferring family because she had once conceived a great passion for the young man’s grandfather.”

  “Yes, well, it seems that Lord Ferring’s wife, Lady Ferring, was well-aware of the affair and was insanely jealous of Lady Rowland, who was a great beauty in her younger days. Indeed, I am told that the two ladies engaged in some spectacularly outrageous scenes that shocked Society. Those quarrels occurred some thirty years ago, but rumor has it that the animosity between the two women has never abated.”

  “Then one day the Dowager Lady Ferring awakens to the news that her old nemesis, Lady Rowland, is plotting to link the two families by marrying her granddaughter off to young Ferring,” Lavinia whispered. “I’ll wager she was enraged.”

  “I do not understand,” Tobias said. “Why would the wedding plans have been canceled after Lady Rowland’s death?”

  “Because she was the only one in the family who was determined to marry the chit off to Ferring,” Joan said. “Once he got his hands on his mother’s fortune, the young lady’s papa made other plans for the money. It transpires that he has not one but seven daughters to see settled. He intends to divide up the inheritance equally among all of the girls. The eldest will not receive such a huge portion as Lady Rowland had intended and she is thus no longer considered a great prize. Young Ferring will be looking elsewhere for a bride.”

  “Who do you believe commissioned the third murder?” Tobias asked, looking thoroughly intrigued now.

  “The third death was that of Mr. Newbold,” Joan said. “In some ways it is the simplest to explain. Newbold was exceedingly wealthy, but he was a truly dreadful man. When he made his offer for young Miss Wilson, everyone in the family was willing to overlook his ghastly reputation in favor of his finances. Everyone, that is, except the young woman’s maternal grandmother, Mrs. Stockard. She herself had been married to just such a lecherous rakehell in her youth, and she was not about to see her granddaughter suffer the same fate.”

  “This is excellent work, Joan.” Intense satisfaction swept through Lavinia. She turned to Tobias. “There you have it, sir, strong motives and the financial means to accomplish their objectives.”

  Tobias exchanged a look with Vale.

  “There is a certain logic to the conclusion,” Vale said.

  Joan cleared her throat. “There is also one more rather significant link. These three women appear to share a long-standing friendship, one that goes back for many years. I can vouch for the fact that two of them, Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring, are almost inseparable.”

  “Now, that is interesting,” Tobias said quietly. “A close personal connection might explain how they all managed to happen upon the same helpful murderer. One discovered him and told her companions.”

  Lavinia tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa and concentrated on how to proceed. “I would very much like to have an opportunity to question some of these ladies.”

  No one said a word. She realized they were all watching her quite intently.

  “With great subtlety, of course,” she added smoothly.

  “Of course,” Tobias growled into his brandy. “You are so extremely skilled in the art.”

  “Now, Tobias—”

  “As I recall, the last time you attempted great subtlety, you managed to get us chucked out of Beaumont Castle. Without breakfast.”

  “Really, sir, do you intend to throw that tiny little incident in my face every time you see an opportunity?”

  “Yes,” Tobias said.

  Joan smiled. “I had a feeling you might want to question the ladies, Lavinia. There is not much I can do about Mrs. Stockard, as she does not reside in Town. But I might be able to arrange for you to meet Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring.”

  “That would be most helpful,” Lavinia said. “How do we go about it?”

  “According to my friend who told me the old gossip, both ladies are very fond of attending the summer concerts at Vauxhall on the evenings when a fireworks display is scheduled. In fact, they rarely miss such entertainments. There is such an event scheduled for tomorrow night. I thought you and I might go together. I can arrange for a casual introduction. Will that do?”

  “Perfectly.” Lavinia felt anticipation swirl through her. “This is great news. I have a feeling that we are very near the end of this case.”

  Tobias looked out the window. “Then why do I have the sense that we are missing some vitally important clue?”

  “No doubt because it is your nature to view every occurrence from the most depressing vantage point,” Lavinia said crisply. “You ought to cultivate a more positive, optimistic outlook, sir. It would do wonders for your spirits.”

  Somewhat to Tobias’s surprise, Vale elected to join him when he left Number 7 to walk back to his club. One did not think of a man of Vale’s notoriously secretive and reclusive nature as given to going about Town on foot, Tobias thought. On the other hand, the man did spend a great deal of his time in the country digging up his Roman ruins, so he evidently was not opposed to physical exertion on principle.

  The long light of the fading summer day bathed the streets and parks in that clear, soft radiance that was peculiar to the time of year. There was a depth and definition about the street scenes that drew the eye. Each window and doorway was picked out with a crisp precision that would have been far beyond the skill of any human artist. Yet the clarity and warmth of the sunlit spaces only served to heighten the intensity of the shadows in the narrow lanes and alleys.

  “It would seem that your partner’s intuition concerning the motives for the murders may have been correct after all,” Vale said.

  “I must admit that Lavinia and Joan have come up with a link between the three women and motives that I cannot afford to overlook any longer.” Tobias shook his head. “Although the notion of three elderly ladies of the ton resorting to murder to cancel some marriage contracts is more than a little unsettling.”

  “I will admit to you that when Joan first told me of the conclusion she and Lavinia had reached, a great shudder of dread went through me.”

  Tobias almost smiled. “All too often we are inclined to underestimate the fairer sex.”

  “Indeed.” Vale glanced at a group of young boys flying kites in the park. “Today I learned a rather disturbing lesson in that regard myself. I had a conversation with Joan that was nothing short of illuminating. Did you ever pause to consider precisely how little marriage has to offer an intelligent, mature woman of independent means?”

  Tobias watched one of the kites soar high above the treetops. “If you are about to inform me that the institution does not have a great deal to offer such a female, you may save your breath. I have had occasion to give the subject a good deal of thought myself lately.”

  “I see.”

  Tobias looked at him. “Can I assume that you have also been thinking along similar lines?”

  Vale inclined his head very slightly in the smallest of gestures. “I had not planned to marry again after my wife died. Until recently, I saw no need. I have two sons, both of whom have set up their own nurseries, so the titles and the estates are secure. My researches into the ruins left by the Romans keep me occupied and provide me with much satisfaction. As for
the particular comforts and pleasures one can obtain only from a woman, well, they are not so difficult to come by, as we both are well-aware.”

  Especially when one was a wealthy, titled member of the nobility who could afford to keep any number of mistresses if it suited him, Tobias thought. But he did not offer that observation aloud. It was not entirely fair, in any event. Although Vale had no doubt conducted his share of discreet liaisons over the years, he was not one to flaunt expensive courtesans or consort with flashy members of the demimonde.

  “I had not been aware of a sense of loneliness until I began to spend more time with Joan,” Vale said. “It is almost as though I discovered an elixir I did not know I craved until I took a taste of it.”

  “And having had the craving awakened, you are now consumed by a dark dread of the possibility that you may not be able to fully assuage your thirst.”

  Vale slanted him a wryly amused look. “I see that you, too, have acquired a taste for a certain tonic.”

  “I suppose there is one positive aspect to our predicament, Vale.”

  “Indeed? What is that?”

  “We may tell ourselves that men in our situations who do manage to convince our ladies to marry us at least have the satisfaction of knowing that they come to us in love and trust.”

  “Rather than because of financial or social considerations?” Vale’s smile lacked all trace of real humor. “What the devil will we do if they turn us down?”

  “I suspect it is that pressing concern that prevents us from asking for their hands in the first place.”

  “Yes.” Vale exhaled deeply. “Well, there is no purpose to be served by further discussion of that subject. It will only depress us both. Tell me, did you mean what you said a few minutes ago in Mrs. Lake’s parlor? Do you truly believe that you are missing some important clue in this murder case?”

  “I’m sure of it.” Tobias watched one of the kites pitch steeply and fall, spinning wildly out of control toward the ground. “My partner is not the only one who possesses a degree of intuition. I have learned to my cost not to ignore my own instincts in these matters.”