“I knew he would before he set me free. He told me so and now I’m absolutely certain. He’s becoming more crazed, you see.”
“Crazed? Gussy, what do you mean?”
She gave exactly the same description of the man in maquillage as Jane Weller had. “And I’ve seen him again,” she said, sniffing and blinking tears away. “He found me in the garden early this afternoon. Pounced on me when I was on my own. Just to show me how easily he could take me again, he told me. And he said he would take me again if I didn’t spread a message for him. He is Le Chat Soyeux, he said, The Silken Cat, and every parent of a virgin should fear him because he slips through the night, gathering his prey in his claws and unless his demands are promptly met he will make sure the ton thinks of each victim as a jade.”
“But why?” This development suggested the man was changing his pattern and that did not sit well with Dominic. “Gussy, he wanted to be anonymous but now he wants to create panic. Surely, once his warning is out his task will be more difficult and more dangerous—for him.”
“I think he wants the thrill of causing panic,” Gussy said quietly. “The thought of watching powerful people reduced to fear excites him, or that’s how it seems.”
“If it’s thought that there hasn’t been a crime, Society will convince itself that this is an empty threat and ignore it,” Dominic said. “I can get the message out but I’ll need to let it be known that the man has already struck.”
“No!” Gussy sat forward in her chair. “There will be questions asked everywhere and eventually one of us will make a slip and we’ll be spinsters forever.”
“Us?”
“Oh!” Gussy jumped up and caught Dominic by the arm. She looked up into his face. “You see? Already I forget myself and say something I should never have said.”
“There has been another victim?” He wanted her to think he knew only what she had told him. When he could, he’d attempt to speak to Victoria Crewe-Burns for whom he had little respect since she’d apparently made no effort to stand up for Jane and had allowed the maid to be so poorly treated.
Gussy shook her head slowly. A pretty thing, Dominic thought, but too obvious for his taste.
“Gussy?” he said gently.
“Yes,” she said. “But don’t ask me for her name. We promised we would guard each other’s secret, although…well, I can tell you that her situation and mine are considerably different.”
Yes, Vicky’s maid had been the one to suffer rather than her mistress. “I’ve told you I’ll help you with this,” Dominic said. “Together we’ll decide how you’ll resist the temptation to say something damning. First, whenever the subject is raised, remember to shake your head. Concentrate on shaking your head and withdraw from the conversation as if you are frightened even to talk about—The Silken Cat. That will cover you for now.”
“Yes, Dominic,” she said, looking adoringly into his eyes.
“I’m going to ask Nathan to help me. I trust my brother completely.”
“No!” She held both of his hands and shook them. “Please, I beg of you, not Nathan. Oh, I should not have come here at all but your reputation as a steadfast and loyal friend is un-equaled.”
“Nathan is also loyal.”
“I don’t want him to know.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her distress struck at him. It also convinced him she still had a tendre for his brother.
He eased her back into the chair and bent over her. “Nathan would never hold this incident against you.”
She frowned and he heard her swallow. “Why should I care about his opinion?”
“You do, or you wouldn’t be so quick to refuse his help. You care for him. You also treat him badly. I’m sure he has no idea of your interest.”
Gussy spread her fingers over her face. “It isn’t up to a lady to pursue a man. And I absolutely don’t treat him badly. He treats me badly. Whenever he might ask me to dance, I catch him smiling at me as if he’s letting me know I’m insignificant. Of course, then he looks elsewhere and never, ever approaches me.”
Confound it, Nathan had feelings for Gussy, too. It had to be. Silly pair.
“If that is so then he is a foolish man and he is also the loser. Don’t give it another thought.”
He decided not to continue the subject. If some mutual sign of attraction developed between Nathan and Gussy he’d just have to step back from his plan to involve his brother with Fleur.
But he hadn’t imagined Nathan’s response to Fleur. Nathan had hung on her every word and given her the kind of close attention Dominic didn’t remember seeing his brother give to anyone else. At least, not for a long time. It could work well to “help” them realize their mutual attraction. Fleur didn’t hide her pleasure in Nathan’s company.
“Are you feeling well?” Gussy asked.
Dominic started. “Of course I’m well.” He turned from her and went to the windows. No, drat it all, he didn’t feel well. He felt muddled and angry and if he ever caught Nathan attempting a dalliance with Fleur he’d kill him, brother or no.
Perhaps he wouldn’t go that far but he would surely remind his brother that it was Dominic who bore the responsibility—given him by their mother—to ensure Fleur’s happiness and safety.
No, he’d just kill him after all. There would be no misunderstandings then.
The feel of her lips beneath his…her supple body…He was a bounder who had taken advantage of an inexperienced girl…and enjoyed every moment of it.
For once he wished brother John would get back from Vienna and show up at Heatherly. John would give him invaluable advice and without emotion interfering.
“Dominic?” Gussy said behind him, and sounding querulous. “I’ll leave you now. I can tell you’re giving this a great deal of thought and I bless you for it. What should I do next?”
Pull yourself together, he told himself. He faced her with a smile he hoped looked more genuine than it felt. “Dear Gussy. Thank you for your trust. You don’t need to do anything. You may be a little taken aback the first time someone talks about our Silken Cat but all you have to do is remember to shake your head, and—”
“I understand,” she said quickly. “Perhaps we’ll speak some more tomorrow evening at the musicale.”
“We definitely will. Let me see you out.”
Her carriage stood waiting with the coachman standing beside the door. Dominic followed her down the steps and put her inside himself. Gussy was a good sort. There had to be any number of men who would bless their good fortune to have her as a wife. He would see what he could do to make some introductions.
Dominic looked toward the sky. When had fate decided his calling should be matchmaker to forlorn women? Not that Fleur was one jot forlorn—just in need of a wealthy husband.
Snowdrop Parker, her skirts lifted to allow her to run, met him as soon as he reentered the house. He looked from her to McGee who stared at him with something close to terror on his face.
“Snowdrop?” Dominic said.
“Help us, please. I don’t want to say too much because it’s not my place, but Lady Granville has been a little bit wobbly-like and I’d rather not frighten her if I don’t have to.”
“For goodness’ sake, speak up, woman. What has happened?” He glanced at McGee. “You know, don’t you?”
McGee nodded. “The staff has been mobilized.”
“Mobilized,” he all but shouted. “Mobilized, why?’
Snowdrop hopped from foot to foot. “It’s Chloe. She went into the gardens to play. She was told to stay near the orangeries but she’s not there. Lord Dominic, we’ve been searching but we can’t find her.”
13
McGee had come into the salon and spoken quietly to Lord Nathan. Fleur heard the butler say there was trouble and Lord Dominic needed his brother outside the orangeries—on the west terrace—at once.
Lord Nathan’s face had paled and he waited only a few moments after McGee withdrew before leaving himself.
The Dowa
ger and Lady Granville were deep in conversation, their heads close together, and Fleur slipped out, murmuring, “I’ll return soon,” when she passed them.
She had no idea what the trouble might be, but Lord Dominic had been the one to send the message, which meant he must be involved in whatever was wrong. Her pulse pounded as she sped toward the orangeries. The men might be angry but she didn’t care. She was capable and could help in many situations where other females might be useless. Papa had taught his girls to be strong if they were ever in difficult situations.
There was barely a moment to take in the pungent scent of the orangeries. She saw Lord Nathan open a door to go out on the west terrace and her heart lifted. At least she wasn’t too late getting there.
Snowdrop and Albert Parker, McGee and a large gathering of servants crowded around Lord Dominic who said something to McGee and looked at the house. The butler hurried toward the orangeries and Fleur slid behind the statue of a woefully underdressed nymph apparently crawling up the torso of a gentleman in a few floating pieces of cloth and with a laurel crown on his head.
The moment the coast was clear, Fleur walked quickly outside and tucked herself into the group of servants.
“Split up in pairs,” Lord Dominic said. “Then fan out. About half of you go from this side and the rest from east terrace. Move rapidly but not so rapidly you miss little Chloe. Either she has become lost or she started out hiding—as a prank—and now she’s afraid she’s in trouble. It’s getting darker. We must find her before the light fails completely.”
Chloe was lost. Fleur felt sick and she broke out in a sweat. Her heart bumped hard. She started to move away with the group set to leave from the east terrace when a horrible thought stopped her. Brother Juste and Jane Weller had spoken about abductions. Oh, surely the fiend wouldn’t take darling Chloe—not a little girl.
“Fleur! Stop right where you are!”
Lord Nathan, sounding quite unlike himself, roared her name and she turned around. The two brothers stared at her. Idiots. What made them think she couldn’t be just as useful as the female servants they’d sent forth? Just as useful as the men, too?
“I’ll go through and leave with the second group,” she said. “We must hurry.”
“Go inside and stay inside,” Lord Dominic said. “Now.”
“Don’t waste another second of our time.” Lord Nathan made a shooing motion with his hands. “And don’t talk to the other ladies about this.”
Fleur turned on her heel and went back into the house.
Through the orangeries and into a magnificent reception room she went. And from there she left the house again, checking in all directions to make sure she didn’t run into her two overbearing masculine hosts.
Already the servants had set off and she picked out one pair heading for the rose gardens and the Dower House while another hurried off in the direction of the topiary gardens where three fountains surrounded by stone benches offered the calming sound of splashing water.
Fleur considered areas she had found in the grounds that she liked best. There were so many places. She would start with the narrow band of evergreen trees separating the ornamental gardens from pastures where sheep grazed and horses were frequently put out.
Mr. Lawrence cut around a corner of the house and across a flowerbed, heading straight for Fleur. “Oh, fie,” she said under her breath. He stepped onto the path in front of her and she gave a little curtsey because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
That stopped him. She almost laughed when he skidded to a halt and bowed. “Good afternoon,” he said, then looked at her with his piercing eyes.
“Good afternoon.” She held her breath. He would tell her she shouldn’t be out here—she just knew he would.
“I hope you’re glad to be at Heatherly, Miss Toogood,” he said.
So he knew who she was. “Very glad.” And she wanted to go on and look for Chloe.
“It’s getting dark, miss, so I wouldn’t go too far if I was you.”
Could she ask him not to tell Lord Dominic or Lord Nathan she was out here? “I’ll be returning soon enough,” she said. Of course she couldn’t ask him to take her part.
She smiled and nodded and walked past him—and felt him watching her. Fleur didn’t look back and puffed with relief when she heard him walking away.
The band of trees took a good number of minutes to reach. Fleur started at one end and ran back and forth through the straight trunks. They stretched a long way. Thank goodness she had grown up in the country and was accustomed to walking considerable distances.
Now and again she heard a voice call, “Chloe, where are you?” or, “It’s all right, Chloe, you’re not in trouble. Come along now.”
“No dogs!” she heard Lord Nathan shout.
He sounded angry, and Fleur all but ran into a tree. She grabbed its trunk in both hands. Dogs? Heavens, no, not dogs. Chloe would be found without such extreme measures.
The sight of Lord Dominic stopped her again. She crouched and peeked out occasionally. Several workmen set down tools and left a large rock garden under construction to gather around him while he explained Chloe’s disappearance.
“How long has she been gone then?” one man, a strongly built fellow with curly hair and his shirtsleeves rolled above deeply tanned forearms asked. He spoke with a surprisingly cultured accent. He had been taking notes and looking across the estate through a telescope.
“We’re not sure, Noel,” Lord Dominic told him. “Perhaps an hour. Maybe longer. She was told not to wander off.”
The man wiped his hands on a handkerchief. “I just got here myself and I didn’t see any sign of a child. My men and I can help. We’d like to.”
“I’d appreciate it.” Lord Dominic started to walk away but turned back and said, “My sister-in-law is pleased you’ll be doing some redesign on the gardens. She particularly likes the idea of this big rockery your people are building.”
“It will give some separation in this spot,” the man said, using his hands to outline a pattern of how the project would look when it was complete. “The Marquis made a particular request that this be done now—for his wife.”
He took off with his men behind him and Lord Dominic climbed to the top of a pile of rocks waiting to be used. He turned slowly, shaded his eyes and searched as far as he could see.
Fleur held still in the shadowy trees and watched him. She couldn’t help herself. Her thoughts about him were unsuitable but how could she stop her thoughts and feelings?
Pieces of his hair, pulled loose from the tail at his nape, blew wildly and she realized she hadn’t even noticed the wind until now. With his fists on his hips and his coat flapping, he resembled a pirate captain at the helm, keeping watch over the waters. She smiled and bent double to creep away.
Many minutes later, Fleur stopped again, winded, her throat dry. To go through the entire band of trees would take too long and she’d be in darkness before she finished.
She left the trees on the side of the formal gardens. Here and there she saw bobbing lanterns and wished she had one herself. Now she would return, searching a swathe to include little grottos tucked away here and there—obviously by a whimsical gardener, and the deserted gazebo too far from the houses to be useful…she would start with those.
One after another she eliminated likely spots and she turned her ankles too many times to count. The left foot felt as if it could be swelling. A frog pond surrounded by a grassy ledge and a wall lay tucked away near the gazebo and she approached carefully, afraid she might slip in if she were careless.
At least the moon had come out to spread eerie light over the ground. Wild animals scuffled in the brush and birds flapped in overhead branches. Fleur was glad of the lights at Heatherly, distant though they seemed.
Humming.
She bowed her head, closed her eyes and concentrated. Definitely some sort of high, out of tune, burbling hum, and coming from the area of the pond.
Fl
eur got down on her hands and knees and crawled through grass rapidly growing damp. Poor Mrs. Neville would be outraged at such treatment of one of her lovely dresses.
Her hand connected with the edge of a wall and she paused. This was the wall around the pond. On her stomach, she wriggled forward until she looked through a ring of tall grasses that surrounded the wall. She had to make herself stay calm, and stay put until she knew what she would say and do.
Curled on her side near the pond lay Chloe. She held her two hands together and whispered through her fingers into her palms. Fleur couldn’t make out much but the occasional sentence. “P’raps I don’t want you to be a prince. P’raps I can’t kiss something so slimy and ugly as you.”
Cautiously, Fleur crawled around until she was behind Chloe, then she climbed over the wall, landed on the grassy ledge and scurried around to sit between Chloe and the murky water. Who knew how deep it might be.
Chloe blinked at her, “’Lo, Fleur. I think you are most pretty.”
“Thank you,” Fleur said. “And so are you. It’s cold and dark. Shouldn’t you like to go home now?”
Chloe let out a loud puff and Fleur winced. Surely she was wrong. Where would the child get intoxicating liquor?
“You see,” Chloe said, “I’m so tired and I think I shall sleep here tonight.”
Fleur gathered the unresisting, bony little body into her arms, but Chloe gradually slid down until her head rested in Fleur’s lap.
“I don’t think I can carry you,” Fleur told the child. “But we can lean on each other and find our way back.”
“Too tired,” Chloe said. “Lost my frog. He will never be a prince now.”
The slightest sound caught Fleur’s attention and she looked up. She couldn’t see Lord Dominic’s face but she’d know that tall, straight-backed form anywhere. The sliver of a moon shone directly on her and she shook her head, indicating that he shouldn’t frighten Chloe.
“Did you drink something?” Fleur asked and sensed as much as saw Lord Dominic make an agitated shift of weight.
“No. Well, yes, I did. He said I shouldn’t tell anyone and it was so nice. He only gave it to me in the little cup because the afternoon had grown hot. And I think he was sorry because…because I got frightened when he insisted on showing me new things in the gardens and carried me off even when I said I mustn’t go.”
Testing Miss Toogood Page 11