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Scandal and Miss Markham (The Beauchamp Betrothals)

Page 10

by Janice Preston


  ‘And,’ Vernon added, ‘it will provide an explanation for you if...when...we catch up with Henry Mannington. For he, too, will know you are not my nephew. However, for the sake of respectability when I reserve our rooms, you shall remain my nephew and I shall remain Mr Boyton. I do not imagine the Royal Hotel will actually approve of my...er...by-blow mingling with their other guests. We shall keep that story as a last resort.’

  ‘By-blow?’ Thea enquired innocently as they headed back to the hotel.

  ‘It is slang for...oh!’ Vernon broke off when he caught sight of Thea’s expression. ‘You little tease,’ he said and reached out.

  She braced herself for the twist as he took her lobe between finger and thumb but, instead, he tugged gently, and she felt an answering tug deep inside her core. Their gazes fused and her heart lurched as she saw the amusement fade from his eyes to be replaced by an inner fire as heat flared between them. Then fear reared up to overpower her sudden impulse to step closer and to accept his unspoken invitation.

  I must never forget Jasper Connor. Men can’t be trusted. And Vernon... Dear God! He’s the son of a duke. I could never mean anything to a man like him.

  She jerked her ear from his grasp. ‘Ow!’ She glared at him as she rubbed at her ear, taking refuge in anger.

  ‘Do not pretend that hurt, you minx,’ Vernon muttered. ‘What are you—?’

  ‘I am attempting to keep up the appearance of being your nephew,’ Thea snapped. ‘We do not know who might be watching.’

  ‘Hmph.’

  But a sideways glance showed he had taken her point and Thea breathed a little easier that she had averted that awkward moment.

  They had by now arrived back at the hotel and they walked through the door into a large reception hall. A servant took their hats. Vernon nudged Thea and leaned down to whisper in her ear, ‘It is fortunate I tidied up that unkempt mop of yours, is it not? At least if I do see an acquaintance you will not now shame me by being seen in company with such a ragamuffin.’

  His teasing reinforced her conviction she had been right to quash the desire that had flared between them. He had shrugged her rebuttal away as though it were nothing. And no doubt it was nothing to him. He was totally unmoved, whilst she...the bindings around her breasts all of a sudden made it hard to breathe. Vernon’s mention of that haircut revived the memory of how strangely intimate it had been and Thea suppressed a shiver as she recalled the effort it had taken to sit still whilst he moved around her, his body brushing against hers, his fingers threading through her curls, moving across her scalp. Never had she imagined a simple haircut could be so...so...unsettling.

  ‘Fortunate indeed,’ she hissed. ‘For however would your reputation otherwise survive?’

  A man dressed in a tailcoat and satin knee breeches approached, and bowed. ‘Good afternoon, sirs. My name is Parkes, the concierge. Whatever your requirements, I shall use my best endeavours to fulfil them.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Parkes,’ Vernon said and Thea marvelled at the change that came over him. No one could mistake him for other than a highly born gentleman and yet just a few minutes ago he had been joking like a schoolboy. ‘My name is Boyton. I should like two bedchambers, if you please, for my nephew and myself. I trust our bags have been sent in from the stables?’

  ‘Indeed they have, sir.’ Parkes clicked his fingers and a footman came running, scooping their saddlebags from behind a desk. ‘I shall show you to your rooms myself, Mr Boyton.’

  ‘Thank you, but maybe later? Young Theo and I are in dire need of refreshment after our journey. Have you a coffee room?’

  ‘But of course.’ Parkes bowed. ‘This way, sirs.’ He showed them through a nearby door into an empty room. ‘I shall send the maidservant in with coffee.’

  ‘Thank you. Before you go, Parkes...’ Vernon selected a table by a window that overlooked the street and sat down, ‘I had rather hoped to meet an acquaintance of mine here. Mr Henry Mannington. I believe he often frequents your establishment?’

  ‘Mr Mannington? Yes, he is known to me, sir, but I have received no word of an impending visit.’

  ‘That is a pity, for I have some business I most particularly wish to discuss with him. Do you recall his last visit?’

  ‘It was last week some time, sir. Thursday? Friday? I shall have to consult the hotel register to be certain of the day.’

  ‘If you would be so kind,’ Vernon murmured.

  As soon as the door closed behind Parkes, Thea said, ‘Why do you ask only of your cousin? What of Daniel?’

  Green eyes contemplated Thea, bringing heat to her cheeks. She squirmed slightly, then said, ‘Well, you cannot blame me for...for...’

  ‘For being suspicious?’

  That is exactly what she meant, but put as baldly as that, it sounded...rude. Shame mixed with defiance. She had a right to challenge him, did she not? Otherwise, he would never explain anything of his actions to her and she would be left to trail in his wake in ignorance.

  Vernon placed both hands flat on the table and sighed.

  ‘I ask first about Henry because it is his patronage of this hotel that prompted your brother’s visits. As I said outside...we already know that Daniel has been here and we know he was searching for Henry. We know that he has disappeared. Henry is our only link to what might have happened. Ergo...our main objective must be to track down Henry and to find out what he knows.’ He glanced at the door, then reached across the table and touched cool fingers to Thea’s cheek. ‘There is no underhand motive, Thea. I promise.’

  At a noise from the direction of the door, his hand slipped from her cheek. A maid carrying a tray set with a coffee pot and two cups entered the room, with Parkes on her heels.

  Parkes came straight to the point. ‘Mr Mannington was our overnight guest on Thursday of last week, Mr Boyton.’

  Thursday! Thea forgot any embarrassment at revealing her suspicions of Vernon. Daniel must have seen Mannington. Talked to him, possibly.

  She strove to mask her excitement in front of Parkes and the maid, who was preparing to pour their coffee.

  ‘Thursday?’ Vernon said. ‘Now there is a coincidence. I believe a friend of mine was also a guest on that night. Mr Markham? Daniel Markham?’

  Parkes paused, frowning in thought. ‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘I am afraid I do not recall that name, sir.’

  Thea’s spirits plunged. If Daniel did not come here, where on earth did he go?

  ‘I must be mistaken,’ Vernon said in an unconcerned tone. ‘I thought he had visited here frequently in recent weeks. Now, if you will pass on Mannington’s direction to me, Parkes, I shall call on him myself. He will not wish to miss this opportunity, that I can tell you.’

  Thea’s attention was caught by the rattle of china. She looked and the maid’s knuckles were white on the handle of the coffee pot as she poured Thea’s coffee. Thea leaned back in her chair and caught Vernon’s eye, flicking her gaze to the maid. He nodded imperceptibly. So he had noticed her reaction, too. Thea’s stomach tightened in anticipation.

  ‘I regret I cannot oblige with Mr Mannington’s direction, sir,’ Parkes was saying. ‘I only know that he lives on the far side of Worcester, towards Great Malvern. He has business interests in Manchester and the Royal Hotel is the perfect place for him to stay when he must travel north.’

  ‘It is an ideal location,’ Vernon said. ‘Now, I must allow you to return to your duties, Parkes, but before you go, does the name Willingdale mean anything to you?’

  The maid, on the verge of leaving the room, gasped audibly and Parkes beckoned her back inside.

  ‘Well?’ Parkes said. ‘What do you have to say?’

  The girl met Vernon’s gaze with a boldness that made Thea itch to slap her.

  ‘My name is Willingdale, sir. Alice Willingdale.’


  I might have known. Thea did not trust herself to look at the girl, who she was now convinced was no better than she ought to be. Daniel had always been something of a flirt, so she should not be surprised he would target serving wenches to find out information.

  Vernon stood up and crossed the room to the door, which he opened. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Mr Parkes. I should be most grateful if you will ensure we are not disturbed. And...ah...’ he reached into his pocket and withdrew a coin ‘...please take this in recompense for Alice here taking a short break from her duties.’

  As soon as Parkes left the room, Vernon ushered Alice back to the table and bade her sit, which she did, a calculating light in her eye.

  ‘Tell us about Daniel, Alice. When and where did you meet?’

  ‘I don’t know no Daniel.’

  Thea leaned forward. ‘You are lying. I saw your reaction when Ver...my uncle...asked Parkes about him.’

  Scornful blue eyes turned on Thea. ‘Well, that just shows what a know-nothing you are ’cause I don’t know no Daniel and that’s that.’

  ‘Theo.’

  The warning in that one word silenced Thea. She had been about to launch into a scathing put down, but Vernon’s intervention reminded her she was meant to be a fourteen-year-old lad, not a mature woman confronted by a saucy servant. She clenched her jaw tight at the smug smile on Alice’s face. Then Vernon jerked his head, indicating she should leave him to talk to Alice alone. She narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back in her chair. A single twitch of his brow revealed Vernon’s opinion.

  He moved his chair closer to Alice, leaning towards her, capturing her gaze with his.

  ‘But you do know Henry Mannington.’ He smiled into her face. ‘I was watching you. You reacted when I asked Parkes for his direction. Will you not tell me what you know of him?’

  Alice blushed, lowering her lashes and peeping coquettishly at Vernon as she returned his smile.

  ‘I don’t know much about him, sir. Only the same as Mr Parkes told you. But I do...’ She glanced towards Thea, then hunched a shoulder as she shifted around in her chair, turning her back to Thea and fully facing Vernon. She lowered her voice and Thea had to strain to hear her words. ‘I do remember another man asking the same questions about Mr Mannington. He visited me several days in a row, looking for the gentleman, but he weren’t...’ she shot a look of disdain over her shoulder ‘...called Daniel. That I can say for certain.’

  ‘I knew you were a smart girl, the minute I set eyes on you,’ Vernon murmured.

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew yet another coin.

  What is it with him and money? He’s forever throwing it at folk like it’s worth nothing.

  ‘What was his name? Can you remember?’

  ‘’Course I can remember.’ The coin disappeared into Alice’s apron pocket. ‘It were Charles Leyton.’

  Thea gasped, then clapped her hand across her mouth, worried she might put the girl off. Charles Leyton was the name of their manager at the glass works. She tried to signal to Vernon, miming he should ask Alice what this Leyton looked like.

  ‘Very well done,’ Vernon said. ‘Can you describe him to me?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ she demanded, suddenly suspicious.

  Vernon leaned closer to her and placed one hand on her arm as he said, ‘It really is better you do not know. I should hate to put you in danger. Describe him to me and then forget we ever had this conversation.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘That is the only way to stay safe.’

  ‘Oh! Well...he was tall...as tall as you, sir.’ Her voice trembled slightly. ‘And he was handsome as handsome can be, with lovely dark hair and big brown eyes and a lovely smile.’ She sighed. ‘And he were a proper gentleman, sir, that he was.’

  ‘Did he visit you on horseback, or did he drive?’

  ‘Horseback, sir. He rode a huge grey horse, sir. Oh, he were as dashing as any cavalryman.’

  Thea’s breath caught as her heart thumped against her ribs. She itched to fire questions at the girl, but knew she was wise to leave her to Vernon. She felt her brows twitch together as she mentally compared Vernon’s way with women with her brother’s and she barely contained her hmph of disgust.

  Manipulative reprobates, the pair of them.

  Chapter Ten

  Vernon risked a quick glance at Thea’s face. She was scowling, looking like she was ready to explode. He sensed the effort it cost her to sit still and stay quiet.

  ‘Now, I need you think carefully, Alice. You told me this man, this Charles Leyton, asked questions about Henry Mannington. Did they ever meet, do you know?’

  ‘Not here, sir.’

  ‘Then where?’

  She shrank back and he softened his tone. ‘I did not mean to alarm you, Alice. Do you know where they met?’

  ‘No. All I know is Charles...Mr Leyton, that is...was really angry. He got here last Thursday only to find Mr Mannington had been and gone. Mr M. were in a carriage and left heading for his home, so Charles...he just leapt on his horse and followed. He was about two hours behind.’ She leaned closer to Vernon. ‘I never seen him so angry, sir, and I never seen him since, neither, so it’s no good you asking me where they met, because I don’t know.’

  Vernon sat back. ‘Thank you, Alice. You have been a great help and I...we...are most grateful. You may return to your duties now. And please ask Mr Parkes to attend me here...we shall not, after all, be staying the night, but we shall need some luncheon before we leave.’

  He barely noticed the tinge of disappointment in Alice’s eyes. He only had eyes for the huge smile that lit Thea’s face at the news they would soon be back on the road, following Daniel’s trail. As soon as the door closed behind Alice, Thea bounded from her chair and began to pace the room.

  ‘Do you think we should hire a post-chaise?’

  She halted mid-stride and directed a serious look at Vernon, who had steeled himself to remain seated when she stood.

  ‘We could use fresh horses along the way. It would get us there quicker.’

  ‘Get us where?’ Vernon followed her with his eyes as she began once more to pace, her agitation clear.

  She stopped again. ‘Why, to Worcester, of course.’ She tipped her head to one side, staring at him, wide-eyed and eager. ‘How many miles is it to Worcester? Do you know?’

  Behind her, the door had opened to admit Parkes. ‘It is twenty-eight miles, Master Boyton,’ he said.

  Thea whirled to face him. ‘Twenty-eight? Why, that is not so far, if we—’

  ‘Let us discuss this later, Theo,’ Vernon interrupted. ‘I am sure Parkes is busy. Our plans can hold no interest for him, other than the fact that we shall not, after all, require overnight accommodation.

  ‘I shall, of course,’ he added, smoothly, responding to the slightest firming of Parkes’s lips, ‘recompense you for the inconvenience.’

  Parkes bowed. ‘Very good, sir, I shall ensure your bags are brought back downstairs immediately. Alice said you would like to eat luncheon? I have come to inform you that food is being served in the dining room, if you care to follow me?’

  * * *

  It was gone two by the time they set out once again upon their journey, taking the Worcester road out of Birmingham. Thea sent Star ahead of Vernon on Warrior, her back stiff with her displeasure. Vernon sighed and nudged Warrior into a trot until they came alongside Thea.

  ‘Why could we not hire a post-chaise?’ She cast him a sidelong, accusatory look. ‘You are happy enough to throw your money at every person you have dealings with, yet you baulk at spending on something so beneficial. Why?’

  ‘You believe that is why I refused to hire a post-chaise? Because it would cost too much?’

  Astounded, Vernon sta
red at her profile. Why was she so distrustful? Always ready to assume the worst of his motives? He’d had no opportunity to explain his reasoning to her...the busy dining room at the hotel had been too public for such a discussion.

  ‘It is either that, or that you are reluctant, now it comes to it, to discover your cousin’s part in some manner of villainy.’

  Vernon reached across and halted Star. ‘What is your plan, then, Dotty? What action do you say we should take?’

  ‘If we hire a post-chaise we could reach Worcester before nightfall and then we can...’

  She hesitated, her lips pursed and her brows bunched under the peak of her cap. Vernon saw the moment she began to doubt her plan.

  ‘Hmph.’

  She looked so disgruntled and so adorable he longed to reach out and gather her up and give her a big hug. He forbore to tease her, seeing how annoyed she was with herself.

  ‘Why did I not think of that to start with?’ The corners of her mouth drooped.

  ‘Because you are always in such a hurry. You do not think through all the implications of what you want to do. I’ll hazard a guess that you are not a good chess player.’

  ‘Chess? I cannot abide the game. I always seem to...’

  ‘Lose?’

  She pouted, then laughed. ‘Daniel always says I haven’t the patience to play it well. I dare say I am a little...hasty...at times.’

  She met his eyes with a silent apology. Then her frown flickered again.

  ‘It is the same as when you rode from Stourbridge to Harborne,’ she said, accusing again. ‘You wish to stop and enquire at every inn we pass.’

  ‘We must call at every inn if we are to establish what has happened,’ Vernon said. ‘Do you not see? All we know is that Henry Mannington lives somewhere to the south-west of Worcester, that he left here in his carriage on Thursday morning and that Daniel followed him, on horseback, two hours later. Yes, it will be slower, not only because of the need to stop at every inn, but also because we cannot ride too hard in this weather for the horses’ sake, not to mention our own. But we are like to miss something if we bowl past in a fast-moving post-chaise. This way, we shall truly be following in Daniel’s footsteps.’

 

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