Courted by the Captain

by Anne Herries

  ‘So it may have been something he dreamed up in his fever?’

  ‘I suggested the same thing, but he refuted it hotly. I think he was probably right, though not as clear as I should like. Apparently Mark told him that morning that Fontleroy had wanted something from him—something that he had refused to sell. I imagine he would have been furious if the necklace could implicate either Lichfield or himself in these jewel thefts.’

  ‘You think that Fontleroy tried to recover the necklace in London—offered to buy it back and Mark wouldn’t sell...’ Paul frowned. ‘Then he knew where the necklace came from—that it was stolen?’

  ‘It sounds to me as if they may both have been involved with these stolen goods. Perhaps Fontleroy had given him the necklace in settlement of a debt and told him to have it broken up before selling—but Lichfield offered it to Mark to redeem his vowels.’

  ‘So he was the fool and Fontleroy tried to redeem it to save their necks, but Mark would not sell. I wonder why Mark did not just take the money and be shot of it?’

  ‘Perhaps Fontleroy offered something other than cash—Mark didn’t tell Staffs, but he thinks Mark suspected something was going on. He thinks he may have intended to investigate further.’

  Adam’s brow darkened. ‘If either Fontleroy or Lichfield believed they were in danger of being exposed as thieves or simply in possession of stolen goods...’

  ‘Mark is dead,’ Paul said harshly. ‘It’s obvious what they did—I’ve been shot at, Staffs was beaten nearly to death. They are as guilty as hell. Where are they? I’ll have the truth out of them.’

  ‘You will not have it out of Lichfield,’ Hallam said grimly. ‘He was found three days ago at his London house—with a pistol in his mouth and his brains spilled out on the floor.’

  ‘Suicide or murder?’ Adam said, a low whistle escaping him. ‘Either way it simplifies things, don’t you think?’

  ‘I think we can safely assume that Lichfield was involved in these thefts or in handling stolen goods,’ Hallam said. ‘We can surmise that Fontleroy made the attempt on Paul’s life, had Staffs beaten and killed Mark—but we have no proof.’

  ‘He has either killed or attempted to have killed anyone who might have some knowledge of his part in the affair,’ Paul muttered, lips white with anger. ‘I shall delight in teaching him what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a beating.’

  ‘If you are allowed near enough to attempt it,’ Adam said. ‘For the moment we have no proof. I do not wish to see you hang for murder and if you kill Fontleroy without proof that is what may happen. No, we have to put him under pressure, make him sweat. If he thinks we know it all, he will wonder what we’re waiting for. He will become nervous and make a mistake and then we’ll have him.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’ Hallam asked.

  ‘We must discover where Fontleroy is and follow him. I shall endeavour to engage him in a card game and somehow we shall let him think that the necklace is for sale.’

  ‘Why would he believe that?’ Paul asked, eyes smouldering.

  ‘Because I need money to save Grandfather’s estate—and, having found the necklace, which neither of you two know about, I am willing to sell it for the sum of ten thousand pounds.’

  ‘It is a beautiful necklace, but not worth that sum.’

  ‘I am not selling the necklace—I am selling his freedom, his security. While we have the diamonds we could expose him. Remember, he does not know if Mark told any of us—or if a letter naming him exists. He found nothing and therefore assumes that one of us found it. He must be on thorns, waiting for our next move. If I accepted his bribe and let him have it back, he would be in the clear.’

  ‘If you let him believe that, your life is at risk.’

  ‘I know—but that is where you two come in. We watched each other’s back while we fought Boney. Now we have another enemy, perhaps more dangerous and definitely less honourable. It might be best if I seemed a little at loggerheads with you both. I must allow him to think that I am willing to sacrifice my honour in order to settle Grandfather’s debts. He will lead me on, but then he will try to murder me—that is when you—and the others we shall enrol—will pounce. Take him in the act.’

  ‘Supposing he employs a gang of rogues to do his dirty work for him?’

  ‘He has already tried that with Staffs and it didn’t work. For all we know it was a hired assassin that fired at you, Paul. No, I believe that he will do the deed himself if he can. He will want the necklace in his hand before he kills me—in case I have left a letter telling one of you where it is hid.’

  ‘It might work,’ Hallam said and frowned. ‘You will be taking a hell of a risk, Adam. If we happen to lose him, he could kill you and we should be none the wiser.’

  ‘That is a risk I am willing to take.’ Adam smiled. ‘It so happens that I trust you—and a few of the men who served under me.’

  ‘We just have to discover where he is. He may be lying low, hiding like the rat he is,’ Paul said.

  ‘No, he has gone down to Bath,’ Hallam told them with a slight smile. ‘I was told that he was interested in a girl, but I have no further information.’

  ‘To Bath?’ Adam frowned. He would have preferred their little masquerade to be played out elsewhere, but he must follow where the marquis led. ‘Are we agreed on our strategy, then? You and Hallam will go down separately, Paul. If anyone asks where I am, be a little off-hand, but say nothing. I am out of favour with the pair of you, but do not give a reason. If I am any judge of character, Fontleroy will be intrigued. And if you are asked if there are any clues as to the reason behind Mark’s death, say you have no idea. Say a search was made of Mark’s room—and, if you are asked, say it was I who made the search, but do not volunteer the information.’

  ‘Yes, we must let it appear that we know nothing—while you may know everything.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Adam smiled. ‘Are we agreed?’

  ‘I don’t see why you should take all the risk...’ Paul objected. ‘Mark was my brother.’

  ‘Which is why you would never dream of concealing Fontleroy’s guilt. I, however, am in a desperate situation—so desperate that I might go against my conscience to save my grandfather’s estate.’

  ‘Adam has to do it,’ Hallam said. ‘You can’t—and I don’t think I have the temperament for it. I should want to choke the life out of him the moment I saw him.’

  ‘Do not imagine you are alone in wanting that,’ Adam said. ‘But I am more interested in seeing him hang for his crimes and there is only one way to prove him guilty—and that is to provoke him into trying to kill again.’

  The three looked at each other grimly. Fontleroy was a dangerous enemy and if they were right he’d killed once and attempted two other murders. Adam’s life was at risk and they would have to watch his back or he might end with a knife in it.

  * * *

  Jenny sighed as she accompanied Lady Dawlish and Lucy to the Pump room that morning. They had been in Bath more than a week now and every day she’d looked for Adam, but thus far she’d seen no sign of him. His business in Cornwall must have delayed him or some other reason had kept him from joining them, as he’d promised.

  It was foolish of her to look for him each day, but she could not help scanning the rooms wherever they went. It seemed an age since she’d spoken to him, though it could not be much above three weeks—but that was such an age.

  Jenny had told herself a dozen times that it was useless to think of Adam. Even if she told him that she had her inheritance at her disposal and risked his censure for deceiving him, her fortune might not be enough to solve his problems.

  And did she wish to be wed for her money? Jenny had spent more than one sleepless night trying to resolve the problem. She would be happy to offer what she had to help Adam out of his difficulties—but only
if he loved her.

  Perhaps the idea would revolt Adam even had she sufficient funds to repay his grandfather’s debts. She remembered that night in London, when she’d heard him jesting with his friends as he laid down his requirements in an heiress. At the time she’d imagined him arrogant, the veriest coxcomb for finding fault in blameless girls, but she understood him better now. He had been protesting in jest, because he did not wish to marry an heiress for her money. The idea offended his pride and he would be humiliated at having to beg for a lady’s favours simply because he needed her fortune.

  Jenny knew she could not offer hers without some encouragement. He thought her a penniless girl in a difficult situation and had gone out of his way to help and protect her. If she told him the truth, might he not feel that she had been laughing at him behind his back?

  Only if he declared his love could she declare hers—and then she might tell him that she had some money. Perhaps a drop in the ocean of the earl’s debts, for she could not know the extent of them—or indeed of her own fortune—but surely it would help to stave off the bank’s demands until Adam could make improvements to the estate, which might make it profitable.

  She thought it a little odd that it was taking Mr Nodgrass so long to send her the accounts he’d promised, but supposed that he must have wanted them checked before giving her the total of her expectations.

  The problem went round and round in her mind endlessly, but there was never an answer to her questions.

  For the moment she must think of the Dawlish family and not of her own situation. They had several acquaintances in Bath now and were sure to see them wherever they went, particularly in the Pump room, which was a favourite meeting place. Ladies and gentlemen nodded as they entered and walked to the seats where an attendant was offering glasses of the foul-tasting water. Neither Lucy nor Jenny had tasted it, though urged to try a sip by Lady Dawlish, who managed to swallow a few mouthfuls each morning in the hope it might do her some good. Why she should bother when she was in perfect health was a mystery to Jenny, but Lady Dawlish said one could not come to Bath and not take advantage of the waters.

  That good lady was soon settled with other matrons and gossiping happily. When Lucy suggested that she and Jenny would walk to the lending library and bring back a parcel of books, she merely nodded her permission and smiled.

  ‘I thought we might take a cup of chocolate at the little cake shop near the library,’ Lucy said, tucking her arm through Jenny’s as they left the Pump room and emerged into bright sunshine. ‘And I have decided that I shall buy that green-silk bonnet we saw in the French milliner’s the other day. It becomes me well and even though I ought not to wear it for the moment I shall as soon as Mama says I may.’

  ‘It hardly seems fair that I may wear colours while you are forced to wear only grey or lilac.’

  ‘Oh, pooh,’ Lucy said and hugged her arm. ‘It is only a few weeks since you left off your blacks. I am pleased to see you in colours again—besides, you often wear dark or rich colours, whereas I prefer pastels.’

  ‘Pale colours do not become me as they do you,’ Jenny said. ‘If I wear yellow, it must be a deep—’ She broke off and caught her breath as she saw a man approaching. ‘Whatever you do, do not leave me, Lucy.’

  Her friend glanced at her, surprised at how pale she was. ‘What is wrong, dearest? You are not unwell?’

  ‘No, not at all. It is the Marquis of Fontleroy. He has come down to Bath. Of all the unlucky chances! One of the reasons I left London was so that I should not have to see him. He was determined in his pursuit—and my aunt thought I should accept him.’

  ‘Oh, Jenny, poor you,’ Lucy said. ‘Did she try to force you to wed him? That must have been so uncomfortable. I do not like that gentleman at all. The way his eyes seem to...strip away one’s clothes is most unpleasant.’

  ‘You feel as I do,’ Jenny said. ‘In London he would not leave me alone and my aunt encouraged him.’

  ‘Mama will not do so,’ Lucy assured her. ‘She thinks him unsuitable as a husband for me and would feel the same regarding you, Jenny. It is different in Lord Mallory’s case. He must be fifteen years my senior, but Mama has been encouraging me to see him as a possible suitor when I am ready to begin a relationship again. Mallory has a fortune and is so very kind and funny that one cannot help but like him.’

  Jenny could not answer for Fontleroy was upon them and, as he lifted his hat, she was forced to acknowledge him.

  ‘Miss Hastings,’ he said, his thick lips seeming to curl in a sneer over white teeth. ‘How very fortunate to find you here. I had not looked for such pleasure.’

  ‘Sir, you must excuse us,’ Lucy said and drew a scowl from the gentleman. ‘I fear we have an appointment and may not linger.’

  ‘Yes, forgive us. We are already late.’ Jenny blessed her friend for thinking of the excuse. ‘Good day, sir.’

  Jenny dare not look back as they hurried away, but she sensed that he watched them to the end of the street and she knew he would be scowling.

  ‘He will not like that,’ she said to Lucy. ‘You must be careful of him, because he is not a nice man. I know he wants me, but I do not know why he should.’

  Lucy’s laughter rang out. ‘Oh, Jenny, you goose. He looked at you as if he could gobble you up. Mama would scold me for saying it, but...he wants you in his bed and, since he knows that the only way to achieve that is to marry you, he is determined to have you if he can.’

  ‘I would rather die,’ Jenny said.

  She shuddered at the thought and wished that Adam were here. She had missed him more than was sensible and longed to see him again. He was such a strong man that she felt comfortable in his presence. If he were to show an interest in her, she would be safe from Fontleroy and others like him.

  Chapter Nine

  It was that evening at the theatre, where they were to attend a concert, that Jenny saw Adam enter a box opposite them with a party of friends. Her heart caught and she felt a little hurt for he had obviously been in Bath long enough to make contact with some friends, but had not come to the house to pay his respects.

  Had she read too much into his kindness? He had said that he would call on them in Bath, warned her to take care and not to be alone with strangers—but perhaps he now thought his duty towards her done? So his attentions to her had been merely duty because of the circumstances in which they found themselves.

  After all her heart searching! Jenny’s throat felt tight with misery and for some few minutes she was unable to listen to or enjoy the music. However, looking up at the first interlude, she caught his eye and saw him smile and nod in her direction. In another moment he left his companions and made his way to Lady Dawlish’s box. They had arranged for refreshments to be brought rather than join the crush in the public refreshment rooms and the first knock at their door was the arrival of lemonade, water ices and wine. A few moments later, Adam looked round the door and asked if he might join them for a moment.

  ‘I was going to offer to fetch you some refreshment,’ he said, ‘but I see that you have been served.’

  ‘Dawlish never likes the crush at affairs like these,’ Lady Dawlish said and smiled. ‘One pays for these little attentions, but it makes the evening so much more enjoyable. I am glad to see you here, sir. Your cousins were at the Pump room this morning, but I did not see you?’

  ‘I travelled down alone, ma’am,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘I fear Paul is a little out of sorts with me for various reasons and Hallam bears him company.’

  ‘I dare say Paul has had much to try him,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘He will recover. You have always been the best of friends.’

  ‘Yes, and hope to be again. I think it is but a misunderstanding,’ Adam said and glanced at Jenny. ‘May I sit beside you for a moment? You must forgive me for being away so much longer than was planned, but t
here was more to do than I had imagined.’

  ‘Did your trip go well?’

  ‘I have hope that something may come of it,’ Adam told her. ‘Nothing is certain in such ventures, but we may find something of interest and if we do things should improve—otherwise...’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I fear things are difficult for the earl.’

  ‘I am so sorry. If there was anything I could do...’

  ‘How kind of you,’ he said and for a moment his gloved hand rested over hers. ‘I fear it is beyond your help—and mine unless our fortunes change.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Jenny said, her mouth running dry. If only she dared speak, but she feared to see the warmth in his eyes turn to disgust, as it surely must if he believed she had deceived him deliberately. Besides, she would seem a braggart if she spoke of her fortune and it should prove negligible after all. ‘Would—forgive me, but would the bank not grant you a little more time?’

  ‘Perhaps if we should find this elusive seam of tin,’ he said. ‘It is perhaps merely an old man’s wishful thought. If there was reason to open the mine once more, it would bring much-needed work to the area and be good for them as well as my family.’

  ‘Yes, of course. The benefits would be for many families besides your own.’

  ‘Indeed. Nothing would please me more—but even to pump out the water and clear a rock fall is expensive. If we do not find anything within a few weeks...’ He shook his head. ‘It is not a fit subject for the theatre. We are here to enjoy ourselves. I may perhaps find a way to come about.’ Jenny arched her eyebrows and he shook his head. ‘It is merely a chance, nothing certain.’