“I will see that they are paid.” Venetia was indignant. “And you can be sure I will write to mother and tell her to refund the money the twins stole from you. Our parents should have been sending money to pay for the servants all along.”
The two older sisters had the same thought at the same moment. “They probably were sending it. To the twins! Who were selfishly spending it on themselves!”
Tally wasn’t so sure. She had little confidence in her parents’ ability to be far-sighted enough to think of doing that.
“They really need to be taught a lesson!” Exasperated at their brothers’ heedless behavior, Milana shook her head. “Now that father is earning...” She tapered off when it occurred to her, and to them, that it didn’t matter how much their father earned. Like the twins, he would never spend or save any of it wisely. “Maybe Uncle Marco will have taken over running their finances?” Milana ended, with very little real hope that their mother’s brother could achieve that minor miracle.
“If you could pay the servants for the months since the twins left, I’d be grateful.” With that help, Tally could remain another few weeks in London.
“You must come and stay with us. We’ll be able to launch–” Venetia stopped abruptly. Tally had begun shaking her head but stopped when she noticed Milana’s elbow connect with her older sister’s side. Venetia turned an aggrieved look on Milana and was treated to what their family all knew as their mother’s “evil eye”. She hadn’t known Milana had inherited that maternal weapon.
“You don’t want to come stay with us?” Venetia coaxed.
“No. I’ve rented this house for the Season and I intend to remain here.”
“I see.” Her eldest sister was mulling over how to approach her next attempt.
Tally had years of experience with this tactic. She looked at Milana, who shrugged her shoulders and threw up her hands in a very Italian way.
“Yes, I see.” Venetia hesitated. “Perhaps you don’t want to attend all of the parties, but Frederick and I will be hosting a party on Thursday. You can’t refuse to come to your own sister’s party!”
Groaning inwardly, Tally again cursed the busybody who’d blabbed to her sisters about her being in London. Spence? She’d wring his neck if he’d told. But he barely knew her sisters, who were much older and had left home before he started coming around. Besides, he’d never mention her being in London now that he knew it would ruin her. He wanted to marry her.
She wanted to squish whoever had meddled in her life like a bug! They had no idea the trouble they were causing her! If Reed entered this room right now, her sisters would either be gleeful she had a man and ask them when they were getting married or they’d be horrified and still ask them when they were to wed!
And whoever heard of marrying a man who might have come to murder you?
Worse, he thought they were already married! If he told them that, her sisters would fly up into the boughs!
Grudgingly, she decided that, if she wanted to get them out of here quickly, she would have to compromise. “Fine, I’ll come to your party...” Seeing their delighted faces about to spill over with more plans, she added, “But only that one, and on two conditions.” At their inquiring looks, she added, “That you only delay your trip to Paris, not cancel it. There is no reason to lose the entire Season. I have no intention of ruining my visit to London by attending routs, staying up late and rising in the afternoon, only to start the same wearying rounds over and over again. It’s exhausting and a waste of time!”
She was reluctant even to attend her sisters’ party, but she knew they’d hound her until she did. It seemed wiser to give in right away to head them off.
They hemmed and hawed, then with a final nod to each other, reluctantly agreed. “We hadn’t yet cancelled. We felt it wiser to wait until we were sure you truly were in London,” Milana said. “Now, we shall merely delay it a bit.”
“And what is your second condition?” Her oldest sister asked.
“That you don’t tell Grandma that I am in Town.”
“Oh but...”
“I know I will meet her at your gathering, but until then, you agree not to tell her anything about me being here.”
They looked at each other, then nodded reluctantly.
“Good.” Tally sighed with relief. It would give her a little more time to find out who Reed was and make arrangements for him to leave her home.
“Famoso!” Theatrically lapsing into their mother’s tongue, Venetia began leading the way to the door. “Come on, Milana. We have lots to do.”
Tally was surprised they weren’t staying to coerce her into more activities she didn’t want to do, but was so thankful they were leaving, while there was still the risk of Reed coming downstairs, that she didn’t question the strangeness of it.
Gracious, she hadn’t even offered them refreshments!
“We have to send out the invitations...” They walked into the front hallway discussing all that had to be done in so short a time and she realized they were organizing Venetia’s party only now, after she said she’d go!
She clenched her teeth to keep from cursing. Still, if only one party satisfied them, then she’d endure it. It seemed almost too easy. Why were they fine with her agreeing to go to only one party? It was unlike them, especially Venetia.
Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth and unable to come up with any motive that made sense, she let it go. No matter how much they badgered, she’d hold them to only the one party.
“We’ll be by tomorrow morning to collect you at eleven sharp to go shopping for your gown–”
Now it started! “I don’t need a new gown. I have several perfectly lovely ones I can wear.”
“If this is the only party you’re going to attend, then you shall look your best. A Madame Simone gown will ensure that.”
“Oh, all right, but I’m only saying yes because it is the one party.” She knew when to pick her battles and allowing them to buy her one gown didn’t seem too great a hardship. She was prepared to do a lot to keep them away from her home and the chance of running into Reed. She had no doubt that, were they to learn of his presence in her house, they’d compel them to get married. She was not going to be pushed to marry any man, let alone one who had no idea who he was and who might even hold sinister plans for her in his lost memories.
* * *
“Ahem.”
“Mason! This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of your presence in my room. Come in.” Putting his book down on the armrest of the easy chair, Reed stood up. What did this phlegmatic friend of Talia’s brothers want with him? Not that he believed that story anymore. After overhearing his wife and Foster, he thought it more likely that the man had been hired to help them find out who was trying to kill her and how to stop them. Was he now coming to see what Reed knew?
Ha! Reed wished him luck. He’d give anything to know what he knew too!
When Mason came to visit, which — from what Reed could tell — was on a daily basis, he moved about the house like a shadow. One forgot he was even there.
Ah, but perhaps Talia had sent Mason up to keep Reed occupied, while she entertained her visitors. He’d heard several female voices come in earlier.
Well, she needn’t have worried, he had no intention of going down there and risking more strangers being told he was a crazy man who believed he was wed to everyone he met!
“I’ve brought your travel bag.” Mason set it down just inside the open bedroom door. “It’s too heavy for either Foster or the boy to carry upstairs, so I offered my services.”
“Then I thank you.” Reed gave a rueful smile. “I’m sorry to put you to the trouble, but I’m not quite myself yet.”
“So I’ve been told.” Mason leaned against the door frame and looked ready to settle in for a conversation. “What happened?”
Reed still didn’t trust the man, or his intentions towards Talia, but he wasn’t about to turn him away. He was so bored sitting
around all day with his own thoughts, he was glad of any company. And maybe Mason knew what was really going on around here! “I’m not exactly sure. All I know is what I was told. I have no memory of how I hurt my head and lost my memory.”
As laconic as ever, Mason didn’t seem surprised by this revelation. “You remember nothing?”
Had Talia already told him? “Not much. Little things. Knowing I prefer coffee to tea, that I dislike rhubarb. And general knowledge, like knowing a man should never be seen without his jacket at dinner. Manners and customs and such.”
“And you have no idea what caused your memories to disappear?” Mason sounded intrigued.
He wouldn’t find it so interesting if he were the one without the memory! Reed muttered under his breath, irked by the casual reaction to his enormous loss. He rubbed the tender spot on his head gingerly. “I do have a large bump on my head, which seems to be the reason for the loss, but how I got that, no one knows for sure.”
“May I?” Mason came further in and sat down in the rocking chair.
“Please do. I’ve been spending too much time alone, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.” Even if I don’t trust you around my wife!
“Have you seen a doctor about this?” Mason asked.
“Yes, that first night when I woke up and realized I had no idea who I was.”
“That must have been unsettling.”
“Unsettling!” He laughed humorlessly. “That’s one way to describe it.” This Scot had to be the least expressive person Reed had ever met! Unsettled? He’d been damn unsettled! “Shocked is closer to how I felt... and still feel some of the time.”
“And the doctor said...” Mason prompted.
“Blasted quack! He told me to rest... a lot... and it would come back eventually.” Hell, he was up here sleeping his life away and getting precious few memories back. Resting didn’t seem to be working. He tried not to think about it. The thought of never getting his memory back was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
“How long ago was that?”
This conversation was starting to sound like an interrogation with all these questions. Why was Mason up here, anyway?
“Damned if I know! I’ve been heavily dosed with laudanum and, though I’ve stopped taking it now, it’s still floating about in my brain muddling my thoughts.” He watched for Mason’s reaction, but could have saved himself the trouble. He got about as much reaction as if he’d said he thought it was going to rain today. The man had evinced no surprise on hearing that Reed had dispensed with the drugs he was being given. Reed had hoped to find out if Mason was part of the scheme to keep him drugged and unable to function properly.
One thing, though, now if she suddenly stopped bringing that damned glass of hot milk... or the hot chocolate she’d recently changed it to, each night, he’d know that Mason had told Talia. It would be a good test of the man’s ability to keep things to himself!
Mason pulled out his pocket watch, stood up and straightened his cuffs. “I have to go now, but I’ll come back again, if you’d like me to.”
Reed nodded. “We could play cards if you tire of talking.” As little as the man did of it!
“Sounds good.” He started toward the door then stopped. “Just had a thought. Have you ever seen this man?” He handed Reed a detailed sketch of a man’s head.
“Yes, I have.” Reed smiled to himself. It felt like success of some sort to see Mason’s head tilt up, like that. It was about the biggest reaction he’d ever gotten from the man. “That’s one of those damned spies across the street. He does the day shift.”
“You also believe they’re watching this house?”
“I know they are.” Reed passed the sketch back to Mason and went to stand by the window. “I haven’t much to do all day, so I frequently stand here gazing out the window. He’s in that house over there.” He pointed. “My wife told you about them?”
“Yes. She gave me this. She’s quite talented, isn’t she?” Mason’s admiration was obvious.
“That’s her sketch?” Damn, he could have bitten his tongue off. He hated to admit he hadn’t known it was Talia’s drawing!
Unperturbed, Mason nodded.
Reed felt foolish. “She is a woman of many talents.” What else could he say? Just because he had no memory, didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered that he couldn’t recognize his own wife’s sketch!
“Why do you have it?” He felt a twinge of anger that she’d shown the sketch to Mason and not come to him with it. He should be the one she confided in!
Not that he’d remember if she had done so before he hit his head! His shoulders slumped. He had to face it. He was no good to anybody without his memory and still feeling as weak as a newborn pup.
“She asked me to see if any one I know recognizes him.” He made it sound as if he were humoring her.
That annoyed Reed. There was something serious, maybe deadly, going on in and around this house. “I’d take her seriously, if I were you. She’s not the type to jump to conclusions. That man,” he nodded across the street, “and his pal, who does the night watch, are not playing games.” He hated like hell being so useless! He knew he’d be able to deal with it if he could only remember! “You should probably watch your step around here. There are things going on that could put you in danger.”
He had Mason’s attention now. The man’s body tensed, his eyes sharpened. “What kind of danger?”
“I’m not sure what... yet... but I can sense it and,” he said with complete conviction, “as soon as my memory returns, I will know.”
Mason stared at him for long, silent moments, before moving to the door. He lifted his hand in a small salute and said, “I’ll be seeing you.”
There was more to that man than he’d first noticed, Reed reflected. His mother had always said that still waters ran deep.
He’d remembered! Not his mother’s face, sadly, but something that had been said to him! This was the first time he’d done that! Feeling a bit lighter, he strode across to pick up his bag. He shut the door to keep out curious eyes and hurried to set the bag on the table in his dressing room.
He was going to take advantage of Talia’s visitors, to get dressed in his own clothes and go out! A woman’s laugh from the drawing room reassured him. It was the perfect opportunity for him to go for a little walk in the park. No one needed to know.
He wanted to wear something inconspicuous, so that man across the street wouldn’t recognize him.
He should have thought of asking for his things sooner. Why hadn’t he? That damned drug had pickled his brain, that’s why. Now he was hoping the contents in it would provide some clues as to what kind of person he was, and why he was the target of a murderer.
Instead, from what he was pulling out, it was only adding more disturbing questions to the puzzle. The bag was of good quality, so he mustn’t be poor. He pulled out a finely tailored, silk jacket in black and held it up against himself. Excellent workmanship. A gentleman’s clothes. Obviously tailored for him. Nothing wrong with this outfit. He put it down and spotted a canary yellow and purple uniform.
What was this? A servant’s livery! His servant’s? Why was it in his bag?
Puzzled, he rifled through to the next item. A shirt and baggy trousers. Not his size, though. They looked to fit a shorter, dumpier, older man. His consternation grew.
From the bottom, he lifted up a long white gown. He recognized it from his disquieting dream. All that was missing was... ah, here it was, the turban.
He picked up a small pouch and shoved his hand into it to pull out a handful of... Hair! Damnation! These were moustaches, beards and wigs! Dropping them onto the table, he went back in for more and this time surfaced with a set of fake, crooked teeth! What was he doing with all these... costumes! Was he an actor? It didn’t feel right and, if he was, you would think he could at least remember a passage or two from ‘As You Like It’ or ‘Hamlet’, other than ‘to be or not to be’!
Who
the hell was he? What was he? An imposter? One who preyed upon others by deceiving them into thinking he was someone he was not? Why? To swindle them out of their blunt?
He shrugged off these unanswerable questions for now. He had to get out of here! Even if just for a little while. Glancing over the contents of his bag, he pondered which persona he should adopt to go out. Would the man who shot him recognize any of these disguises?
Not the well-to-do gentleman’s garb. He’d be more easily noticed in that one. The small park at the end of the street didn’t appear to be busy, but it might be best not to risk being seen. And if he wore the servant’s livery, everyone would wonder why he had the free time. It also looked to be foreign and, if it was recognizable, that could cause him problems.
Wait! It might provide a clue to his identity! He’d have to find a way to look into the livery’s origins. But that could wait. Right now, though he didn’t remember who he was or recognize his face in the mirror, it was time to go out and see if anybody else did.
Chapter Fifteen
The rank smell of sea-coal — though potent enough to make Tally want to use her vinaigrette or, at the very least, pinch her nose — was masked somewhat by the spicy scent of exotic cargoes of ginger, sandalwood and tea. The docks were every bit as dirty as she’d been told, but no one had prepared her for the excitement of it all!
The hustle and bustle of men rushing about like bees building a hive, loading and unloading, scurrying from one end of the wharf to the other, carting huge boxes and barrels… it all thrilled her. She sat in the hackney with Mr. Mason, while Foster went to find Cousin Minerva. She knew enough to avoid being seen and was quite happy to remain in the carriage, doing rapid sketches of subject after subject. It was almost too inspiring.
She was glad of the investigator’s presence. Alone, she knew she’d have been too wary of danger lurking to be able to draw freely. It felt strange to be openly sketching in front of someone other than Foster or Monsieur. But Mr. Mason didn’t seem to mind her ignoring him while she worked. He leaned back, looking quite comfortable despite the cramped space for his long legs, which were stretched out in front of him. Apart from casting quick glances at her depictions from time to time, he remained alert to what was going on outside. He’d promised his discretion with respect to her art and she was taking him at his word.
The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife Page 19