Rules of Refinement (The Marriage Maker)

by Tarah Scott

  The words didn’t register. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I have a servant in your father’s household in my employ,” John said. “He just reported that the doctor visited Chesterfield two hours ago because your father wouldn’t wake up.”

  A coma? A dozen thoughts bounced off the inside of his skull, but one word resounded: Rose. What would happen to Rose?

  Kennedy looked at his friend. “What if he dies?”

  “Sit down, Kennedy.”

  “What?” Kennedy couldn’t focus on his friend’s words.

  “Sit.” John grasped his arm, urged him over to the chair near the window and pushed him onto the seat. John sat on the divan to his right.

  “Think, Kennedy. Your sister is safe, at least for now. She has only been away from home for nine days. The situation cannot have degraded in so short a time.”

  Kennedy nodded. He was right. But how quickly could things degrade now that the earl couldn’t send instructions for her safekeeping? He prayed Ranald had luck in finding her in France.

  As if reading his mind, John said, “Your father is not a complete fool. He knew you would kill him if anything happened to her. He will have made provisions. She is safe for, at least, some time.”

  Kennedy nodded. He was right. He had to be right.

  “There is more,” John said. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was certain, but there is no time now to confirm. I suspect that the person your father was using to keep in contact with your sister is a servant within his household.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As you know, I have had the house watched at all times. Only the usual activity has taken place: food deliveries, supplies, the comings and goings of servants. I doubt any of the deliverymen are anything but what they appear to be. Therefore, it is easy to strike them off the list of potential contacts. That leaves only the servants. I have jested before about how servants know everything, but it is the truth. Someone in your father’s household knows something about your sister’s whereabouts. My guess is that servant is a man.”

  Kennedy grunted. “Of that, you can be assured. My father believes women to be weak in all things.”

  John chuckled. “In that he is very mistaken.”

  Kennedy nodded. “Have you any idea who the man might be?”

  “Your father employs twenty-nine servants. Half of those are women. Half of the men are likely not intelligent enough or reliable enough to be trusted with the passage of information. I have a list of the remaining seven men. I would like you to take a look at the names.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a folded paper, then handed it to Kennedy.

  Kennedy took it and opened it. He scanned the list. “I know three of these men. David Henderson has been my father’s stable master for twenty years. He is a possibility. Jason is his valet. He is loyal to my father; however, he would not be my first choice.”

  “Why?” John asked.

  Kennedy shrugged. “My father believes in a strong separation between nobility and servants. To confide in Jason would be to elevate his station as valet.”

  John nodded. “What about the others?”

  “The last name on the list.” Kennedy pointed out the name Henry McKinley. “He has worked for my father for two years. In truth, I was surprised my father kept him on. He does not take orders well.”

  “Interesting,” John murmured. “What about the third name on the list, Milton Hayes? He has worked for your father for only two months as a groomsman.”

  Kennedy shrugged. “I know nothing of him. Are any of these other men new on his staff?”

  John nodded. “Aye, the fourth name on the list, Dawson. He has worked as a groomsman for two weeks.”

  Kennedy leaned back in his chair. “I do not know him. As he is new to my father’s staff, perhaps my father hired him specifically to help keep track of Rose.” Kennedy looked up at John. “What about his man of affairs, or his solicitor, Mr. Spector?”

  “One of them would be an obvious choice,” John said. “And your father might fear that you would approach them and try to beat the information out of them.”

  Kennedy thinned his lips. “He is right.”

  “However, they could have information without realizing it,” John said. “There has to be bills relating to your sister’s living expenses.”

  Kennedy had considered that. “Aye.” His heart began to thud. “With my father in a coma, I can demand to see all his financial records.”

  John nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Ye may also question his servants without fear of repercussions.”

  Chapter Nine

  By that evening, Kennedy had taken possession of all the records he could locate in Mr. Spector’s office, as well as the records kept by Mr. Cummins, his father’s man of affairs. Mr. Spector had refused to cooperate, but John held a pistol to his head while Kennedy confiscated everything he could find. Mr. Cummins was more cooperative, and handed over two ledgers and a box of receipts.

  Kennedy didn’t return home, but went to John’s office, for he knew that Jacqueline would be waiting for him at home. He was confident that Anne could deal with her. He would make it up to his wife tomorrow. For now, he had to find Rose.

  The afternoon turned into evening as he and John poured over files, ledgers and receipts.

  “Kennedy.”

  Kennedy looked up from the ledger he was reading.

  “I have never been inside Chesterfield, but it is large,” John said.

  Kennedy nodded. “Mammoth, in fact.”

  “Could someone be locked in a room there without the servants knowing?”

  Kennedy started. “What are you saying?

  John handed him a receipt. Kennedy read the receipt. A lock had been installed on a fourth floor suite in Chesterfield’s west wing. Kennedy stared for a long moment before accepting what his eyes told him.

  He looked at John. “It’s too simple.”

  “That’s the beauty,” John said.

  “She never left Chesterfield? It can’t be.”

  “Why?”

  Kennedy shook his head, unable to focus. “I could find her too easily. The west wing isn’t in use. For the most part, it’s reserved for guests. My mother spent a year there when she and my father were estranged.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be difficult to lock someone in a room there without the rest of the household knowing,” John said.

  Kennedy shook his head. “Rose’s screams would be heard. My father might trust one or two servants, but, as you said, servants see everything. They would notice.”

  “Would they notice someone who lived there if that someone didn’t mingle with the rest of the household?” John asked.

  Kennedy started to answer, then stopped. There were two entrances on that side of the house. Perhaps it could be done if someone were careful. Still… “Once Rose realized she was being held prisoner, she would scream for help,” he said.

  John’s expression softened. “Not if she were incapacitated.”

  An image flashed of his sweet, dark-haired sister lying in bed, dosed with laudanum. Shock reverberated through him. He’d feared that if he couldn’t comply with his father’s demands that his father would make good on the threat to marry her to Granbury. He feared the earl would die and Rose would be stranded somewhere in a foreign land with no resources to reach home safely. He had hated not knowing where she was, being uncertain of her future for even a day. But he had believed that, for the moment, she was safe. Had he been wrong?

  “I believed everything he said,” Kennedy whispered.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” John said. “This is more fiendish than sending her away.”

  Kennedy surged to his feet. “I’m going to Chesterfield.”

  John stood. “Let’s be off.”

  Kennedy shook his head. “This is not your fight, John.”

  John clapped him on the back. “I owe you for saving my life in Glasgow.” He grinned. “Ye know how much I hate bei
ng in debt.”

  * * *

  For an hour, Anne sat on the divan in Kennedy’s study trying to read before she began to wonder if she was being foolish for waiting. After their encounter in the conservatory yesterday afternoon, he had appeared in her bedchambers later that night and made love to her a second time. But she’d woken to find him gone. After a day shopping with Louisa and her mother, she returned home to find that Kennedy had come and gone. That had been three hours ago. Her mother and Louisa were leaving tomorrow, and Louisa had begged for one last night in town. Mama, had taken her to the opera.

  Anne had hoped for time alone with Kennedy, again. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Would he think her loose now? Was a wife supposed to enjoy her husband so much? He certainly seemed to enjoy his time with her. Was this what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life? “

  What had his father said? “It hadn’t occurred to me you might be beautiful, but the fact that you are will hold Kennedy’s interest for a while.” If his father spoke the truth, how long before Kennedy tired of her? What would she do when he took other lovers? I thought struck. Did he have a mistress? Her heart sank. Of course, he did. A man like him always had a mistress.

  She was a fool. He bore no particular affection for her. He only married because his father commanded that he sire an heir as quickly as possible. Perhaps he was enjoying himself in the process. Perhaps once their son was born, he would lose interest in her altogether.

  He wasn’t home because he had no interest in seeing her, and here she was waiting for him in his study. Thank God, he hadn’t come home and found her waiting. Not only would she feel like a fool, she would look like a fool. She closed her book and rose. A knock sounded on the door, then the door opened and the butler entered.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but there is a boy here who insists upon seeing his lordship.”

  “Kennedy isn’t here,” she said.

  “I am aware he is no’ at home,” Mr. Bingham said. “But the boy insists that he will not leave until he has seen Lord Buchanan.”

  “What does he want with the viscount?” she asked.

  Mr. Bingham shook his head. “He refuses to say. “

  “Perhaps he will tell me. Show him in, please.”

  He bowed and left. Anne sat back down on the divan and, a moment later, Mr. Bingham returned with a tall lad of about fourteen years of age, dressed in britches and a rough woolen coat. He reminded her of a stable hand.

  Anne remain seated as the boy approached. “I am Lady Anne,” she said. “What is this message you have for my husband?”

  The boy stopped near the table in front of the divan. “It’s from his sister,” he said.

  “His sister?” Anne snapped her gaze onto the butler, who was closing the door. “Mr. Bingham, wait, please.”

  He paused. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Does his lordship have a sister?”

  “Aye, my lady. Lady Rose. She lives with the earl.”

  Why hadn’t Kennedy mentioned her? Why hadn’t she attended their wedding? Why hadn’t they met her at the ball? She hesitated. She needed to hear what the boy had to say, but she felt completely lost.

  “Mr. Bingham, will you wait outside the door, please?”

  “Of course, my lady.” He stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Anne returned her attention to the boy. “What is your name?”

  “Matthew, my lady.”

  She smiled. “Matthew, what is the message?”

  The boy stubbornly shook his head. “Lady Rose specifically instructed me to tell no one but her brother.”

  Anne pinned him with a hard stare. “I assume the message is important or you wouldn’t be here refusing to leave.”

  “Aye, ma’am, very important.

  “Too important to delay in delivering?” she pressed.

  His brows knit in uncertainty. “It’s devilish important—begging your pardon, my lady.”

  “Never mind that,” she said. “I’m sure Lady Rose thought his lordship would be home. But he isn’t, and we can’t say when he will return. If it’s important, perhaps ye had better tell me. I am his wife, so there is little difference between telling him and telling me.” Normally, she wasn’t nosy, but intense curiosity—and more than a little frustration—made her want to hear the message.

  The young man considered. “I suppose ye might be right. Lady Rose sounded very desperate.” His expression grew serious. “But if I tell you, I must still tell his lordship.” He stood straighter. “I promised, and a gentleman never breaks his word to a lady.”

  Anne smiled. “Of course, you are absolutely correct. Please tell me the message, then I will have Mr. Bingham take you to the kitchen where Mrs. Hampshire will fix you tea and something to eat. You may wait until his lordship arrives, then repeat to him the message, as well.”

  His eyes brightened. “I am hungry, ma’am.”

  “Then you shall have a fine dinner. Will that do?”

  He gave a concise nod. “Yes, ma’am. The young lady asked me to tell his lordship that she is being held prisoner in Chesterfield Hall.”

  Anne blinked. “Being held prisoner? Surely, there must be some mistake?”

  He shook his head. “I said the same thing. How can anyone be a prisoner in their own home? I didn’t want to call a lady a liar, but I did accuse her of making fun of me. Then she showed me bruises on her cheek and arm. She is telling the truth. I’m sure if it.”

  “She is being beat?” Anne asked. It was simply too fantastical.

  “Aye, so you can see how I would have to believe her.”

  Anne nodded. “That is serious proof.” But could she believe him?

  “Lady Rose was very specific,” he went on. “She said his lordship was to come to her by way of the west entrance, and she begged him to hurry.”

  “If she’s being held captive, how is it you came to speak with her?”

  “My father has the best milk and butter in all of Edinburgh. The earl buys our butter and milk. I was making the delivery when I passed by the window and she called to me. I must tell you the truth, though. Lady Rose told me that I must be honest. She promised that I would not get into trouble.”

  “If Lady Rose promised you would not get into trouble, then you shall not get into trouble.” Anne studied him. “Did she promise you money for delivering the message?”

  His chin lifted. “She did, but a gentleman never takes money for helping a lady in distress.”

  “You are right again,” Anne murmured. “What is this truth you must tell me?”

  “Normally, I go around the side to the servants’ entrances on the east. But that’s a longer walk, and I was in a hurry. So I climbed the wall and cut through on that side of the estate.”

  “I have seen that wall,” Anne said. “It’s very high.”

  He gave her a disparaging look. “I can easily climb it. It would be difficult if I was delivering milk because milk spills. But this time I was only delivering butter, and butter doesn’t spill. It was very fortunate I took that route, according to Lady Rose, for she said no one ever came across the estate on that side.”

  “Did Lady Rose say why she was being held captive?”

  He shook his head. “Eight days maybe. She wasn’t certain.”

  Since last Saturday or Sunday, Anne thought. One or two days before she received the summons from the earl. That was odd.

  “She said the lady who watches her is evil,” Matthew said.

  “Evil?” Anne repeated. “Is it she who beats Lady Rose?”

  “I don’t know. She did say the woman gave her laudanum to keep her quiet, but Lady Rose promised not to scream, so she didn’t give her as much.”

  The story was too preposterous. Oh, how she wished Kennedy were here, or even her mother. “When his lordship returns home, you can repeat the story for him,” Anne said.

  Matthew nodded. “I hope he returns soon. Lady Rose overheard the evil woman speaking wi
th the man who brings them their food. He said that the earl was very ill and they thought he might die soon.”

  That Anne knew to be true. The earl didn’t look at all well.

  “He has fallen into a coma,” the boy said.

  “A coma?” she blurted. She had heard no such thing. Surely, Kennedy would tell her if that were true. Might that be why he’d been gone all afternoon?

  “I did not know anything else,” he said. “Except Lady Rose is very afraid they will send her away now that the earl is dying.”

  “Send her away where?”

  “She didn’t say, she only said that she must be away for nine months or more. They said something about his lordship having a child.”

  Anne stared. The boy would have absolutely no reason to make up something like that.

  Chapter Ten

  Anne had Mr. Bingham take Matthew to the kitchen for a good dinner, where he would wait until Kennedy returned home. A messenger was sent to the boy’s home that explained where he was—Anne swore Matthew to secrecy in regards to ‘the lady’s message’ as he now referred to his mission. Then she asked Mr. Bingham about Lady Rose and learned that Kennedy’s sister was fifteen years old, and she and Kennedy were very close. Though Mr. Bingham stated that it wasn’t his place to comment, he did admit that he was surprised that Lady Rose hadn’t joined them for the wedding and the bridal feast that followed, or that she hadn’t been to visit in over a week. He didn’t know where Kennedy had gone, and Kennedy hadn’t left word when he might return. It was eight twenty, and her mother would not return for another two hours, at least.

  She waited another hour, but when Kennedy didn’t arrive home, she spoke once again with Matthew and learned which window he had seen Lady Rose in. Then she ordered the carriage brought around, and changed into a plain dress and cloak. As she clasped the footman’s hand in preparation to enter the carriage, someone called her name. She paused and looked back to find Matthew bounding down the stairs toward her.

  He reached the carriage and said between breaths, “You are going to rescue her, aren’t ye, my lady?”

  “I am going to see what I can learn about the situation,” she said in a quiet voice.