Alice made sure the bedclothes were pulled tight in order to hide her nakedness. When the table had been set, she got up and crossed the room without pausing for a cover.
She poured them each a cup of tea, and then sat down on the wooden chair. It was cold against her skin but she tried not to show her discomfort. Their gazes met and he smiled and picked up a plate and offered it to her.
“Toast?”
She tried not to laugh. When they were done eating he left the room and told her he would send in a maid. The girl helped her to clean and dress, and when she was ready to leave, Alice started for the front door. Once downstairs, Julian was waiting for her.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“With you,” he said.
“That’s out of the question,” she said. “She already knows I spent the night here, and that is more ammunition for her to use against us. Besides, she wants to speak to me alone.”
“I don’t care. I won’t let you see that little she-devil by yourself.”
Alice thought about it for a few moments. “Escort me home, and then make as if to leave. I’m sure she’s having us watched. You can go to the gardens and wait. I’ll have Jane, my maid, open the doors and you will be able to hear everything. If you feel I’m being threatened you can burst in and be the hero. You must trust me in this. She will open up more to another woman.”
Julian smirked as if in derision, but then he nodded. When they were in the carriage she noticed there was no evidence of their using this carriage for their lovemaking. She wondered if it was the same one, or if he had more than one carriage. She wouldn’t ask, though. At least not now. She needed to think about her coming interview with Mrs. Howell.
“Be careful with her,” Julian said as he left her off at the door. “Don’t forget to have the garden doors opened for me.”
At the allotted time, Alice went to the library and waited. When Mrs. Howell was shown in she didn’t stand.
The actress waited, as if she expected to be honored. When that didn’t happen she went to a chair opposite where Alice sat and sat down.
“You look peaked, Mrs. Hamilton,” the actress said. “Late night?”
Her implication was clear but Alice did not rise to the bait. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down opposite her visitor.
“May I help you in some way, Mrs. Howell?” Alice sipped her tea and eyed the other woman over the rim of her cup. She had not offered her refreshment, and Alice thought it funny when Mrs. Howell helped herself to the refreshments.
“I just wanted to see the look on your face when you read this.” The actress reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded sheet of newsprint. She passed it to Alice and then picked up her cup.
Alice stared at the sheet and then smiled. She wondered what Julian was thinking as he hovered near the windows. She cleared her throat and began to read, aloud for his benefit.
Rakish members of the society are known for taking advantage of young women of the lower classes. A case in point, according to sources, is that of young Mrs. H., whose late husband was known for his ability to make problems disappear.
Rumor has it that Mrs. H. has allowed herself to become involved with handsome Lord B, who could well leave her with a problem of her own to clear up.
We would like to urge Mrs. H to use caution in the situation. Trying to rise up above one’s station could prove problematic in the future.
Alice sat the paper down and picked up her teacup. She took a sip and then she smiled at her guest.
“Very much like reading your last review, wouldn’t you say?”
“And what do you mean by that? My last review was very favorable.”
“Yes, it just goes to show that you can’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
Celia’s face turned red, and Alice watched as she worked to get hold of her emotions. After a few moments she sat up straighter and glared at Alice.
“We had planned something different for the morning papers. Something more to the point about your friends and their debauchery. But we decided to strike against you and give them another chance to protect themselves. Everyone will now know that Buxton has been rutting between your thighs. You will stay away from this situation. We don’t need you mucking about.”
“Who is ‘we’ Mrs. Howell?” It was on the tip of Alice’s tongue to tell her that she knew the reason their first story didn’t appear was because Fiona had squashed the information. Alice needed to remember to give the flower seller a gift to thank her for that.
When the actress did not answer, Alice shook her head. “Are you upset about losing the money, Mrs. Howell? Or are you more upset that Lord Buxton is ‘rutting between my thighs,’ and not yours? Are you doing this because you have been rejected by a member of the upper classes?”
Celia rose quickly, her teacup smashing to the floor as she stood. “How dare you! You are nothing but an insolent little tramp. Now, that your reputation has been harmed perhaps you will learn to mind your own business. A female can never do the job of a problem solver. And this is one problem that will not go away.”
She crossed the room and slammed the door to the library as she exited. Julian strode in from the garden when she was gone.
“Well done, sweet one. But I don’t like to think of what I do as rutting.” He came around to the back of the divan and began massaging Alice’s neck.
“I wouldn’t know, would I? I’ll have to take another lover to compare.” Alice turned her head toward Julian and wagged her tongue.
“Watch where you put that thing, my sweet. To her surprise he leaned over and pulled it into his mouth. His hand cupped her breast and she moaned with desire as he squeezed harder. He let go of her tongue, took a deep breath and then captured her mouth again.
She moaned with delight and put her hands over his to encourage him further. He was nibbling on her ear and kneading her nipples through her bodice when the door burst open.
Jane let out a sharp gasp and ran from the room.
“Get back here,” Julian screamed out. “Why did she run?”
“Don’t scream at her. She’s not used to having a man around the house. Especially one who is playing with her employer’s breasts.”
Jane popped her head around the door. “Forgive me, milord. But you have guests.”
Essex strode through before Jane could announce him. “Thank you, my dear. I’m sure the great debaucher of women will receive us.”
Ellington followed him into the room and threw a newspaper onto the table.
“You cad,” Ellington said. “Shall I defend your honor, Mrs. Hamilton? Pistols at dawn?”
Alice laughed so hard she couldn’t answer.
Buxton flopped himself onto the couch and stared at his friends. “Funny that only my name was mentioned. You two deserve as much credit for debauchery as I do.”
“Not us,” Essex answered. “We’re married men.”
“Yes, maybe I should be to save Alice’s name.” Buxton winked at her. “It would also spare me from hearing sanctimonious lectures from the two of you.”
Ellington raised his eyebrows in Alice’s direction. She shook her head and frowned. “He’s talking nonsense.”
Julian frowned at her. “I’m not kidding, you know. Both of us are single, and it would raise quite a few eyebrows and, possibly, solve a problem. It would also give the rags something to print.”
Alice smiled at him and lowered her eyes. “Shall we discuss what has brought us together this morning?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Julian answered. “But then again, I guess not. Do we have any idea who Celia Howell is working with?”
Ellington took a cup of tea from Jane, who shot a fearful look in Buxton’s direction. He rose up and growled at her and she fled the room. He relaxed against the sofa and laughed.
“Stop that!” Alice slapped his leg and he made a yelping noise. “I will not allow you to terrorize my staff. It’s mo
st unbecoming of you. You’ve just met the girl today.”
“You two don’t need to get married,” Essex said. “You already act like an old married couple.”
Julian laughed like a little boy and Alice hated to admit that Essex was right. They were comfortable with each other. Very comfortable.
“Back to the subject at hand,” Ellington said with a grin. “Shaw has four males on his household staff. Two are stable boys barely older than sixteen. They can’t possibly have the brains to think up this caper. His retired butler, Hamil, is almost eighty and can barely walk. Shaw keeps him on to honor his years of service. The new butler, however, has been with the household staff for about a year. He’s in his early thirties and is called Rogers. Benjamin Rogers. One of the maids told Barton that he is friends with Celia Howell.”
“Well, there we go,” Buxton said. “Let’s go and visit him.”
“There is a twist, however,” Ellington said. “The maid also told Barton that Shaw and Celia Howell are lovers.”
“Are, or were?” Alice stared at the three men.
“She said are,” Ellington replied.
“I don't believe Shaw could have anything to do with this,” Essex replied. “He's been loyal to us for years. What would cause him to try and blackmail Club members?”
“As far as I know he's not having any financial trouble,” Buxton replied. “Perhaps we should make some inquiries about town to see if he has been hitting the hells.”
“And losing.” Ellington added.
“Cannonberry and Barton need something to do,” Buxton said. “And in the meantime I do believe that I will visit with the new butler.”
“And I will come with you,” Alice said.
“Oh no,” Buxton replied. “I won't put you in a potentially dangerous situation.”
“And I wasn't in danger while I was waiting for a blackmailer to pick up his money in a park at midnight? What harm could a visit to a person's house entail? I can help you with the questioning.”
“I don't need your help with the questioning,” Buxton replied, his anger rising. “I have questioned a few people in my lifetime. I know what I’m doing.”
“I didn't say that you didn't,” Alice's own temper was causing her face to turn red. “You came to me for help and I won't be shut out. I am going with you.”
Before Buxton could answer Ellington stood, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You've got your hands full with this one, Julian. I do believe that you and she are a match made in heaven.”
Julian locked his gaze with Alice. Anger flashed in her eyes.
“I think you're right,” he replied. “But I know the remedy for ladies who insist on disobeying me.”
“Going to spank me, are you?” she asked.
“Not all discipline involves spanking, Alice,” he replied.
“I don’t care what you do,” Alice replied. “I'm still coming with you. I'll go and change now.”
She stalked from the room, male laughter following in her wake.
Chapter 6
Don't for one second think that I will forget about the punishment you will receive for disobeying me.” Julian's voice was low.
The carriage bumped along the London streets and he watched her carefully. He didn’t like the idea that she was trying to hide a smile.
“Do you think this is funny? I'm not used to having my commands ignored.”
“Then perhaps you should become accustomed to the notion,” Alice said firmly. “I will not be ignored, nor shoved in a corner. You asked for my help and I intend to give it.”
Buxton pressed his lips together in vexation. She was right, of course, he had asked for her help. He just hadn't expected her to be demanding about being kept in the know about every piece of the scheme.
“Just the same, when I give an order I expect it to be followed.” The carriage pulled up in front of Shaw's house and Julian sighed. “We will finish this discussion when we arrive at home.”
“Would that be my home, or your home?” she asked.
“Mine,” he said.
“We shall see,” Alice replied as they climbed out of the carriage.
They waited on the front stoop for almost five minutes after he knocked. Frustrated that he was being ignored, Julian pounded his fist against the door and yelled, “Open!”
A few moments later Hamil opened the door. The old man leaned against the frame and let out an expanse of breath as if he’d been running from one end of the house to the other. “Milord Buxton, welcome. Lord Shaw is not at home at present.”
“Hamil, where is the new butler? What is his name, Rogers?”
Hamil let out a wheeze of breath and Buxton took his arm to lead him toward the library. Once they were seated the older man looked much more comfortable.
“Rogers has not been seen this morning,” Hamlin said. “A maid just informed me that he hasn't yet arisen. I was about to go and investigate when you arrived.”
Julian looked over his shoulder to Alice. “Watch him, if you please. Hamil, point me in the right direction and I'll check on him for you.”
Hamil gave Buxton directions to a room on the third floor. He climbed the stairs quickly, noting that there were no other servants around. The house was quiet, and as he neared the room to which he’d been directed, Julian stopped and sniffed. There was a strong smell of copper in the air.
That could mean only one thing. He pushed open the door and saw a body lying on the bed. There was a great deal of blood. He didn’t need to go further to know the man was dead.
“Hell and damnation,” he said. Death could mean only one thing. They would have to call in the authorities, which meant they would ask questions. He didn’t want them to know about the blackmail scheme, but really there was nothing for it.
They would have to be told. He backed out of the room and shut the door, pulling it firm. On the second floor he ran into a maid who looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“Fetch a footman and send him for the police. No one goes in Rogers’ room.”
The girl curtsied and hurried toward the back stairs.
Buxton went back to the library where he found Alice kneeling before Hamil. She was stroking his hands and whispering softly. She jerked her head toward him when he entered.
“Hamil says Lord Shaw is not expected back for at least another week. He is in Paris.”
“I’ve sent a footman for the authorities,” he said. “Rogers is dead, murdered. We’ll have to be truthful with them.”
He could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew what he meant.
“I’ve dealt with the police several times,” she said. “Allow me to take the lead in this, if you will.”
For once, he didn’t want to argue with her. This was her bailiwick, and he would allow her to do as she asked.
He needed to get word to Essex and Ellington about the latest events. “Hamil, where might I find pen and paper?”
“In the library, two rooms down on the left,” the old gentleman said.
“I will return.” Buxton put his hand on Alice’s shoulder and she inclined her head ever so slightly. He left without saying another word and found the library easily. After he’d written notes to his friends he sealed them using Shaw’s wax and seal. Then he went in search of a footman to deliver the missives. He’d told them not to come to Shaw’s house, but to meet him for dinner tonight at his house.
They would have a lot to talk about.
The library at Julian's home was warm and cozy, yet Alice felt cold and frightened. The afternoon had been long and the questioning at times painful. No, she did not know the man upstairs. This was the first time she’d been to Shaw’s house. She’d come with Lord Buxton, to try and find the truth about why someone was blackmailing him and his friends about their sexual activities.
No, she was not part of the scheme, and no she would not give them any more information about it. She’d been hired to find a blackmailer. This is where it had led. If they wanted
more intimate information they would need to talk with Lord Buxton, which she was sure they had done, but he hadn’t spoken of it with her.
“Wine?” Buxton’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Yes, please,” she said. “A large glass, or several small ones, whichever is easier.”
He winked at her and gave her the rather large glass. She took a huge drink, and it burned on the way down her throat. Hopefully it would help her to relax. She was letting her imagination get the better of her. She wondered what was happening. She hated to be on the outside of the investigation. She wanted to be with the police, to talk about what they knew.
“This is more than what I hired you for,” Buxton said. He sat across from her with his own glass of wine cradled in his hands. “I’m sorry I got you involved.”
“It’s true that I’m not usually involved with murder, but my husband was once.” She took another drink. “He told me about the investigation, told me how to deal with the authorities. Don’t lie, but don’t volunteer information, either. What did they ask you?”
“I’m sure the same thing they did you,” he said. “I offered them nothing more than the truth. When they asked about the blackmail I told them I couldn’t give them the particulars, that it would break confidences. They were not happy with me, but I was firm. Something tells me they will ask more questions tomorrow.”
“You are right,” she said. She drained her glass and held it out. He got up and refilled it. He’d just sat back down when Essex, Ellington and their wives arrived. She got up to greet them, feeling a little strange about playing hostess before Buxton. It felt strange to be in his house, playing hostess to his friends.
Buxton offered drinks and when everyone was settled a pregnant silence filled the room.
“Well?” Ellington finally said, his voice deep with concern.
“Stabbed to death,” Buxton said. “The chief inspector feels it might be a woman. He says the wounds are shallow. But there are quite a few of them. The room didn’t seem to be disturbed, so the theory is that someone snuck in while he was sleeping and killed him.
His Little Problem (Rakes of Mayfair Book 3) Page 7