by Amanda Quick
The man was already back on his feet. The massive hands on the ends of his outstretched arms looked like claws.
“There’ll be no more of yer tricks.”
Tobias managed to catch himself on the edge of a workbench. His knuckles struck a large pot planted with a voluminous fern. He hoisted the heavy object in both arms.
The man was less than two paces away when Tobias slammed the fern pot into his shoulder and the side of his head. He went down like a felled ox.
An unearthly silence gripped the conservatory. Tobias steadied himself against the workbench and listened. There were no footsteps. No cries of alarm.
After a moment he pushed himself away from the bench and limped toward the door that opened onto the gardens. A short time later he reached the street. There was no hackney in sight.
Just his bloody luck. It was going to be a long walk to the Colchester mansion. On the bright side, it was not raining.
twenty-two
“Bloody hell, where is he?” Lavinia stood on tiptoe, trying to peer over the heads of the crowd. “I cannot see Neville. Emeline?”
Emeline did not have to go up on her toes in order to get a view. “No. Perhaps he went into the buffet room.”
“A moment ago when I caught a glimpse of him, he was speaking with one of the footmen.” Lavinia’s palms tingled. “Now he is gone. He may have left the house.”
“What is so surprising about that?” Joan asked. “Neville no doubt intended to put in only a brief appearance here at the ball. Events such as this are exceedingly boring for most gentlemen. By now he will be on his way to a gaming hell or perhaps to a brothel to search for a new mistress.”
A vivid picture of the blood on the hood of Sally’s cloak flashed through Lavinia’s brain. “What a dreadful thought.”
“Calm yourself.” Joan watched her with an expression of concern. “I vow, you have become extremely anxious during the past half hour.”
Because I cannot stop worrying about Tobias, Lavinia thought. But there was no point in voicing her private fears aloud. There was no reason to be overly concerned about Neville’s sudden disappearance from the ballroom either. Joan was no doubt correct in her assessment of the situation.
Nevertheless, it made her uneasy to have lost track of her quarry.
Anthony materialized in front of her, a glass of lemonade in his hand this time. He handed it to Emeline.
Lavinia frowned at him. “Did you see Neville inside the buffet room?”
“No.” Anthony turned slightly to examine the crowd. “Saw Lady Neville on my way back here, but not her husband. I thought you said you would keep an eye on him while I fetched the lemonade.”
“He has disappeared.”
Anthony’s face tightened. She knew he was no happier with the news than she was.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“Yes. I do not like this,” Lavinia said quietly. “It is nearly one-thirty. Tobias should have finished his task and met up with us here by now.”
“I agree,” Anthony said soberly.
“I told him he ought to take you with him tonight.”
Anthony nodded. “You have mentioned that once or twice this evening.”
“He never listens to me.”
Anthony winced. “If it is any comfort, Tobias is in the habit of doing as he likes.”
“That is absolutely no excuse. We are partners in this affair. He ought to pay attention when I give him the benefit of my opinion and advice. I will have a few things to say to him when he finally does decide to put in an appearance.”
Anthony hesitated. “He may have stopped off at his club on the way back here to confer with a friend.”
“What if he is not there?”
“We must be reasonable about this. The search may have taken longer than Tobias expected.” Anthony paused, frowning. “I could find a hackney and drive past the mansion to see if there is any sign he is still inside. If he is not there, I might check for him at his club.”
She was not the only one who was growing alarmed, Lavinia thought. Anthony was trying to appear coolheaded but he was also uneasy.
“An excellent notion,” she said. “Given the crowd here tonight, there are bound to be hackneys hanging about in the street hoping for fares.”
Anthony looked relieved to have her make the decision.
“Very well then, I’m off.” He made to turn away.
Emeline touched his sleeve, her eyes grave with concern. “You will be careful?”
“Of course.” He took her hand and bowed gallantly over it. “Do not be anxious on my behalf, Emeline. I will be very careful.” He turned to Lavinia. “I’m sure that all is well, Mrs. Lake.”
“It will not be at all well for Mr. March if I discover he stopped off at his club instead of coming directly here.”
Anthony smiled wryly and hurried away through the crowd.
Joan frowned. “Do you really believe something has gone wrong in the course of Mr. March’s search?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Lavinia admitted. “But the fact that he is not here at the appointed hour, together with Neville’s sudden disappearance, makes me extremely worried.”
“I do not see how you can connect the two. Neville could not possibly know Mr. March is at his house at this moment.”
“It is something about the way Neville left after he was approached by that footman a moment ago that worries me,” Lavinia said slowly. “Almost as if he had received a message and was responding to it.”
“The waiting is going to be intolerable,” Emeline said. “There must be something we can do.”
“There is,” Joan said with authority. “We must act as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. You have promised the next dance to Mr. Geddis, have you not? He is coming this way.”
Emeline groaned. “Dancing is the last thing I want to think about at the moment. I could not possibly manage polite conversation with Mr. Geddis while I am worrying about Anthony.”
“Gossip has it that Mr. Geddis is worth nearly fifteen thousand pounds a year,” Joan said dryly.
Lavinia choked on her champagne. When she had recovered, she smiled pointedly at Emeline. “It will not hurt you to dance with Mr. Geddis. Indeed, it is necessary you do so.”
“Why?” Emeline asked.
“To keep up the appearance that there is nothing wrong, just as Mrs. Dove suggested.” Lavinia made surreptitious little shooing motions with her gloved fingertips. “Go on, dance with him. You must behave as any other young lady is expected to behave at such an affair.”
“If you insist.”
Emeline summoned a brave smile for the handsome young man who had just come to a halt in front of her. He stammered politely and led her out onto the floor.
Lavinia sidled a little closer to Joan. “Fifteen thousand a year, you say?”
“So I’m told.”
Lavinia watched Geddis sweep Emeline off to the dance floor. “He appears to be a very nice young man. Any bad blood in that family?”
“None that I know of.”
“That’s good.”
“I don’t think he stands a chance against young Anthony,” Joan said.
“I think you’re right.”
The waltz came to an end a few minutes later, leaving Emeline and her partner on the far side of the floor. Lavinia glanced at the tiny watch pinned to her reticule while she waited for the pair to return to the alcove.
“Calm yourself,” Joan said quietly. “I’m certain that Mr. March is safe. He seems quite adept at taking care of himself.”
Lavinia thought of Tobias’s left leg. “He has been known to miscalculate.”
Joan looked thoughtful. “You are genuinely concerned about him, aren’t you?”
“I did not like this plan to search Neville’s house,” Lavinia admitted. “In fact, I was very much—” She broke off abruptly when she saw who had stepped into Emeline and Mr. Geddis’s path. “Bloody hell.”
&n
bsp; “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Pomfrey. Look at him. I do believe he’s attempting to persuade Emeline to dance with him.”
Joan followed Lavinia’s gaze to where Emeline and Mr. Geddis stood confronted by Pomfrey. “Yes.” Her mouth tightened. “I do hope he’s not drunk. Pomfrey is quite capable of making an ass of himself when he’s in his cups.”
“I am very well aware of that. I cannot allow him to make another scene. Not here in Lady Colchester’s ballroom.” Lavinia snapped her fan closed and moved out of the alcove. “I must put a stop to this. I will be right back.”
“Try to stay calm, Lavinia. I assure you that Lady Colchester won’t allow any unpleasant behavior to occur in her ballroom.”
Lavinia did not respond. She pushed her way through the crowd as discreetly as possible. Her progress was not an easy affair. She lost sight of her objective on several occasions when large persons loomed in front of her.
When she finally emerged, a trifle breathless, on the far side of the dance floor, she saw that Emeline had matters in hand. Pomfrey was already turning away. He did not even notice Lavinia bearing down on him.
Emeline’s eyes lit with amusement. “It’s all right. Pomfrey merely wanted to apologize for the events at the theater the other evening.”
“As well he should.” Lavinia came to a halt and glowered at Pomfrey’s retreating back.
Emeline smiled at the confused-looking Mr. Geddis. “Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure.” Geddis collected himself, bowed over her hand, and quickly hurried off into the crowd.
Lavinia watched him depart. “He seemed very nice.”
“Try not to look so wistful,” Emeline said. “It is embarrassing.”
“Come, we must return to the alcove where Mrs. Dove is waiting.”
She led the way around the edge of the dance floor, forging a trail through the crowd. Emeline followed close behind her.
When they broke through the last barrier of guests, however, she saw that the alcove was empty save for a harried-looking footman who was collecting used glasses on a tray.
Lavinia halted, a shock of panic washing through her. “She’s gone.”
“I’m sure she’s somewhere nearby,” Emeline said soothingly. “She would not have left without telling you where she was going.”
“She’s gone, I tell you.” Lavinia grabbed a nearby chair and hopped up onto it. “I cannot see her anywhere.”
The footman stared at her, appalled.
Emeline turned on her heel, searching the crowd. “Neither can I. Perhaps she went into the card room.”
Lavinia clutched her skirts and jumped down from the chair. She pinned the footman. “Did you see a lady in a silver-gray gown? She was standing here in this very spot a few minutes ago.”
“Yes, ma’am. I gave her the message and she left.”
Lavinia and Emeline exchanged a glance. Then they both moved in on the footman.
“What message?” Lavinia demanded.
The hapless footman was clearly terrified. Sweat beaded his brow. “I don’t know what it said, ma’am. It was written on a piece of paper. I didn’t read it. I was instructed to give it to her and I did. She glanced at it and left immediately.”
Lavinia took another step toward him. “Who gave you the message to give to her?”
The footman swallowed and took another step back. His nervous gaze switched from Lavinia to Emeline and then returned to Lavinia.
“One of the footmen hired for the evening gave me the message. I don’t know him. He didn’t say who gave him the note.”
Lavinia turned to Emeline. “I will take that side of the room. You take the other. We shall meet at the far end.”
“Yes.” Emeline started to turn away.
“Emeline.” Lavinia grabbed her arm to get her attention. “Do not leave the ballroom under any circumstances, do you understand?”
Emeline nodded and plunged headlong into the crowd.
Lavinia whirled and threaded her way into the throng on the terrace side of the long ballroom. She was halfway toward the buffet when it occurred to her that she would have a much better view of the room from the interior balcony that encircled the chamber.
She changed direction and veered toward the staircase. A few eyebrows rose when she pushed her way determinedly through the crush. There were some rude remarks, but for the most part, people ignored her.
She gained the stairs and managed by an effort of will not to break into a run. When she reached the balcony, she gripped the railing and looked down.
There was no sign of Joan’s silver-gray gown among the hundreds of glowing satins and silks below. She forced herself to think logically. What if there had been something in the message that had provoked Joan to leave the safety of the ballroom?
She turned and crossed to the windows overlooking the vast gardens. She opened one and leaned out. The hedges and shrubs nearest the house were flooded with the light spilling from the French doors that lined the terrace side of the ballroom. The illumination did not extend far, however. Most of the heavily planted landscape lay in darkness. She could just make out the looming shape of a large stone monument. A tribute to Lady Colchester’s late husband, no doubt.
A flash of movement near a hedge caught her eye. She turned her head quickly and glimpsed pale satin skirts. In the shadows it was impossible to make out the color of the gown, nor could she see the woman’s face, but something about the long stride and the fact that the lady was alone told Lavinia everything she needed to know.
She thought about calling out to the hurrying figure, but she doubted that Joan would be able to hear her over the laughter and music.
She whipped around, spotted a smaller staircase at the end of the balcony, and rushed toward it. A footman carrying a tray of canapés appeared just as she was about to descend.
“Can I get outside into the gardens from here?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. There’s a door at the foot of the steps.”
“Thank you.” She grabbed the banister and used it to steady herself as she plunged downward.
She found the door at the bottom of the small staircase, opened it, and stepped out into the chilly darkness. There was no one about. Those guests who sought a breath of fresh air had confined themselves to the terrace.
It occurred to her that if the woman in the pale gown continued in the direction in which she had been headed a moment ago, she would intersect with the monument. The stone memorial would be a natural choice for a meeting point in this vast garden.
She picked up her skirts and hurried away from the lights toward the monument. The laughter and music faded as she moved deeper into the ornately cut hedges and plantings. The graveled path spun away into the shadows. She could feel the small pebbles through the thin soles of her dancing slippers.
She rounded the end of a hedge that was a foot higher than she was and saw the columns of the monument. Its cavernous interior was drenched in inky darkness. Something moved in the deep river of night that flowed just inside the entrance. With the flap of a huge bat wing, it vanished.
She opened her mouth to call out to Joan but stopped before she uttered a word.
The bat-wing shape she had glimpsed could well have been the corner of a greatcoat. Whoever lurked inside the ruin was not Joan. She could not even be certain it was a woman. A man awaiting a lady with whom he had planned a tryst, perhaps.
She hovered in the thick shadows of the hedge for a few seconds, suddenly very conscious of the chill in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glint of watery moonlight on pale satin.
Joan emerged from the dense foliage near the edge of the monument. She paused next to one of the stone columns. Then she started toward the dark entrance.
Suddenly Lavinia understood.
“Joan, no!” Lavinia hurried toward her. “Don’t go inside.”
Startled, Joan turned quickly. “Lavinia? What are you—”
T
here was a sudden rush of movement from the entrance of the monument.
“Look out!” Lavinia seized Joan’s arm and hauled her away from the pillar.
A figure garbed in a greatcoat and hat rushed from the monument and disappeared into the deep darkness of the vast garden. Moonlight gleamed for an instant on what appeared to be a length of iron.
“I would not even think of giving chase, if I were you,” Joan said. “Something tells me Mr. March would not approve.”
twenty-three
“There is, of course, only one reason why I would have rushed out into the garden without waiting to tell you what had occurred, Lavinia,” Joan said wearily. “I received a message informing me that my daughter’s life was in danger and that I must meet the messenger at the garden monument at once for further details. I fear I succumbed to panic.”
“It never occurred to you the message was a lure meant to get you away from the safety of the ballroom?” Tobias asked.
Lavinia, seated on the velvet cushions opposite, gave him a look he recognized immediately. He ignored it. He knew very well his tone had been harsh, but he did not care a jot if he had offended Joan’s sensibilities.
He was not in a good mood. When he had walked into the Colchester ballroom with Anthony a short time ago and discovered that both Joan and Lavinia had disappeared, he had been ready to tear the house apart. It was Emeline who had prevented him from creating a truly memorable scene. She had been watching for signs of Lavinia and Joan from the balcony and had just spotted the pair slinking back through the gardens.
Tobias had whisked all of them away at once, commandeering Joan’s elegant carriage without a by-your-leave. Joan had made no protest as he had bundled her, together with Lavinia, Emeline, Anthony, and himself, into the vehicle.
It was only after they were all secure inside the cab that Lavinia had given him a crisply rendered version of events in the ballroom and the garden. The cold satisfaction he had experienced upon finding the letter in Neville’s wardrobe had immediately evaporated.
All he could think about at that moment was that Joan had not only placed herself at risk in the night-shrouded garden, she had caused Lavinia to rush into grave peril too.