The Bloodied Cravat

by Rosemary Stevens

  self-importance. I closed the door behind him and took up a position next to the chair where Freddie was seated. Ulga sat in her usual place in the corner of the room.

  Lord Kendrick looked at Freddie. “You sent for me, your Royal Highness.”

  Freddie sat regally, the picture of the grande dame. She wore the light blue muslin gown she had on for the barge party, its folds falling gracefully around her, but she had removed her straw hat. “Yes, Lord Kendrick. I have a delicate matter to discuss with you. You may be seated.” Freddie indicated a chair.

  His lordship looked at me standing next to the Royal Duchess and apparently decided not to sit. He waved a careless hand. “If this is about Lady Ariana’s unfortunate mention of your husband—”

  Freddie blanched.

  “No, that is not what this is about,” I said. Though my tone was even, I am certain my grey eyes resembled circles of iron.

  Lord Kendrick looked confused. “What is it, then?”

  “Reputations can be easily damaged, Lord Kendrick,” Freddie said. “That is why I wished to speak with you privately. Are you aware of any thievery occurring recently?”

  I watched the marquess’s reaction carefully, wondering if he knew of his cousin’s deed. He was suddenly all indignation.

  “Why shouldn’t I know about the highwayman striking again?” he demanded.

  “Wait one moment,” I said, startled into speech. “How did you know that? The attack occurred only yesterday.”

  The marquess folded his arms in front of him. “It’s common knowledge in the neighbourhood that we’ve been plagued by the blackguards. I assumed that he had struck again and that was what the Royal Duchess was talking about. But if that’s not the case, then of what thievery are we speaking?”

  “The highwayman remains a menace, Lord Kendrick, but I am referring to your cousin. Lady Ariana had on a set of pearls this afternoon. My pearls,” Freddie said. “I am sorry to tell you that I did not give them to her.”

  “What are you implying?” Lord Kendrick’s eyes narrowed.

  “Her Royal Highness is too discreet to come right out and say it, but I shall,” I told him, disliking him more by the minute. “It seems Lady Ariana may have taken something that does not belong to her, pearls that belong to the Royal Duchess. We wish the necklace returned to their owner without delay.”

  Lord Kendrick looked at me, then turned to Freddie, the smirk that never leaves his face in full evidence. “This is preposterous. Are you saying my cousin stole your pearls, then had the audacity to wear them in front of you?”

  Freddie gave a quarter inch nod of her head. “I have no alternative but to think so.”

  “That is a ridiculous accusation!” Lord Kendrick exclaimed, colour rushing into his face.

  Freddie sat with her head held high. “My maid, Ulga, set the pearls out in my dressing room to be polished. I received Lady Ariana there earlier this morning upon your arrival at Oatlands. We had an easy conversation about the weather and the animals here at Oatlands. Later, Ulga told me the pearls were missing.”

  “Well, the maid mislaid them,” Lord Kendrick said in the tone of one speaking the obvious.

  I glanced at Ulga. Her face was set. I could not conceive of her making such a mistake. “I do not think so,” I said to the marquess.

  “Nor do I,” Freddie said.

  Lord Kendrick let out an outraged breath, but I saw him rubbing his fingers together at his sides, a sign of uneasiness. Again, he addressed Freddie, his speech pitched to the tone of one voicing logic. “Your Royal Highness, how can you be sure the pearls Lady Ariana had on are yours? Pearls look much alike.”

  “They belonged to my grandmother and are a perfectly matched set of rose-hued pearls. If you inspect the clasp, I am certain you shall find a single diamond. Please examine the strand and then return them to me,” Freddie instructed in a way which allowed for no argument.

  Lord Kendrick lost all of his bluster. “Very well, I shall look into the matter.” He bowed to Freddie, gave me a curt nod, and exited the room.

  I watched him, thinking not so much about the pearls, but about his reference to the highwayman.

  “That was most unpleasant, George,” Freddie said, waving a silk fan in front of her face. “The new marquess is no better than his father, though I had hoped for more. As I believe you surmised, I thought he might do for Cecily Cranworth, but I can see now I was mistaken. Lord Kendrick’s abrasive manner would shatter Cecily’s sensitive nerves all to pieces.”

  I swung around to face her, having only been half-listening. My brain was running down other paths where the Marquess of Kendrick was concerned. “Er, yes. Listen, Freddie, I think it would be interesting to see what the marquess does next. I am going to follow him.” I made her a brisk bow and turned to leave.

  “George! Is that really necessary?” Freddie called.

  “I shall let you know what I find out.” I hurried out the library door and down the corridor.

  You may be wondering why I felt the need to trail Lord Kendrick. Did you not mark his reaction, nay, his strong reaction to Freddie’s question about thievery? What about his immediate assumption that we were speaking of the highwayman? If there is even the slightest possibility that he knows anything about the robberies, I must know. I cannot miss a single opportunity, however remote, to retrieve Freddie’s letter.

  In the front hall, Old Dawe sat in a chair near the main door. “Did Lord Kendrick come this way?” I asked.

  The elderly retainer rose to attention. “Yes, Mr. Brummell.”

  I raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Old Dawe spoke in a low voice. “I’ll tell you because I cannot like the new marquess, if you’ll forgive my plain speaking.”

  I nodded. “Go on, man. I trust your opinions.”

  “He’s not a man I can respect, Mr. Brummell. I don’t like seeing him here at Oatlands. He is not worthy of his title and not worthy to be in the presence of her Royal Highness. He was always a nasty, greedy boy, and his ways haven’t changed.” Old Dawe nodded to himself, then drew a deep breath. “The marquess raced upstairs in quite a taking, but was back down here in the blink of an eye, asking where his cousin was. I told him she’d gone outside not five minutes ago.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Stepping out the door, I assumed the air of one out for a casual stroll. Running my gaze around the grounds, I considered where the fragile Lady Ariana might have gone. Perhaps the gardens with the ornamental pool. A lovely, peaceful area, Freddie had a section near the water where she buries her treasured pets who have passed away. Each grave is marked with a stone bearing the dog’s name and his virtues. A dreamy girl like Lady Ariana would surely be drawn to such a quiet, restful place. I turned my steps in that direction.

  The parkland at Oatlands contains many beautiful pine trees and shrubbery. The area near the ornamental pool is no exception, and most convenient for one wishing to spy on another.

  Yet, when the pool of water came into view, I was both satisfied and dismayed. There, indeed, were Lord Kendrick and Lady Ariana involved in what was a heated discussion if his posture were any indication. He had his hands around her neck, unclasping the strand of pearls she wore. All the while, he spoke angrily right into her face.

  As quickly and as quietly as I could, I manoeuvered my way into a discreet position behind a sturdy oak tree.

  I heard Lord Kendrick’s voice first. “... Told you before to stop your foolish pranks.”

  Lady Ariana appeared whiter than she had on the barge, if that were possible. “It is not a prank!”

  “What do you call it then, eh?” he asked, pocketing the pearls.

  “I do not know, truly I do not, Connell,” she replied in an anguished, little-girl voice.

  “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I have told you time and time again,” Lady Ariana said, clearly not understanding her cousin’s reaction. “I never remember when I take things. It just somehow happens.”
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br />   “You took the Royal Duchess’s pearls, you totty-headed female. How could you not remember taking them?” Lord Kendrick said in a furious voice. “I warn you, Ariana, my father took you in when you had no place to go, but now I am marquess. I have plans for the future that do not include a lunatic in my house.”

  “I am no lunatic,” Lady Ariana insisted. “I just take things. How is it different from what you do?”

  He grasped the girl’s shoulders and shook her. “Cease your prattling! You’re talking nonsense. And you’ll stop ‘taking things’ at once, do you understand me? At once!”

  With a little cry, she stumbled backward, but regained her footing.

  Anger rose in me at this callous treatment of one not as strong as he. But then Lord Kendrick dropped his arms away from the girl.

  In a menacing tone he said, “Don’t interfere in my life, Ariana. How can I win the hand of a duke’s daughter if you bring scandal on my head?”

  “A duke’s daughter? I thought you were going to marry Cecily. Then we could all be together, you and Cecily, and Roger and I.”

  Lord Kendrick shook his head. “You are mad. I am the marquess now, you idiot. How many times must I tell you? Can’t you get it through your addled brain? I shan’t settle for any female without a title. As for you and Roger”—here, Lord Kendrick let out snort of a laugh—”I can tell you, Roger’s taste in women leans toward the voluptuous which you are not.”

  Lady Ariana pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped tears from her cheeks. “You are cruel. Cecily and Roger both expect our families to be joined.”

  “I don’t give a farthing what they expect.”

  Lady Ariana’s demeanor unexpectedly changed. She pocketed the handkerchief and twirled a lock of her pale hair between her fingers, looking away from her cousin. “I am sad for Cecily. You make me sad, Connell. What happened that day in the study with your father makes me sad too. Uncle had been kind to me.”

  With one hand, Lord Kendrick suddenly reached out and grabbed the girl’s face. His thumb pressed hard on one cheek, his fingers on the other, forcing her to look at him. She let out a yelp of pain.

  My muscles tensed. I was torn between intervening on Lady Ariana’s behalf and the need to discover what their secrets were. What was going on? What did Lady Ariana mean when she asked her cousin how what she did was different from what he was doing? Could the marquess somehow be involved with the highwayman?

  Lord Kendrick’s face contorted with rage. “Shut up! If you ever dare say anything about Father, or if you dare take one more thing that doesn’t belong to you, I’ll have you committed to the Sussex Asylum for Lunatics. In fact, I’ve already written to them about you. They are ready to take you in at my word. At my word, Ariana! Do exactly as I say or I’ll have you locked up for the rest of your life.”

  The girl gave a frightened little nod within the confines of her cousin’s hold.

  If he did not let her go immediately, or if he hurt her further, I must act. No sooner had I made the decision than Lord Kendrick roughly released his hold on the girl and strode away in the direction of the house.

  Lady Ariana stood motionless for several seconds. Then, she reached up and rubbed her cheeks hard, over and over again. As if the action somehow had taken her pain away, her face abruptly cleared of all emotion. She idly picked a buttercup and sat on a bench, examining the flower’s petals with minute concentration. I could hear her singing softly to herself.

  Questions about the conversation I had heard crowded my mind, but for that moment I could not examine them. I could only stare at the child-woman on the bench and wonder what would become of her.

  The fate of two women, Lady Ariana and Cecily Cranworth, now depended on the actions of the vulgar Marquess of Kendrick.

  And if he were indeed involved with the robberies and stumbled upon that letter ….

  Chapter Eight

  I returned to the house, but Freddie was no longer in the library. Instead, I found her seated on the sofa in the drawing room. As usual, several dogs lounged about the room. One was in human shape: Victor Tallarico.

  For once I was grateful for Ulga’s presence. She knitted away in her favourite chair keeping an eye on the two.

  The Italian perched on one knee in front of Freddie. His palm was outstretched, a piece of white velvet draped across it.

  “Signor Tallarico, they are lovely,” Freddie cried, unfolding the velvet to reveal its contents. “But you should not have brought me such a costly gift.”

  “Ah, but they must belong to you. Once I saw them at Christie’s auction house, I could not help but think how your maid could arrange them in your hair. Perhaps, if one might be permitted to hope, a style which would show your bella neck to advantage.”

  “Thank you,” Freddie responded and smiled, accepting the Italian’s offering with pleasure.

  I felt a surge of annoyance. Tallarico’s persistence in flirting with Freddie made me wish I could pack him and his pink waistcoats up and put them on a boat back to Italy. Or at least point him in the direction of a matron eager to indulge his propensity for dalliance.

  Tallarico rose from his kneeling position to sit next to Freddie. “Will you not call me Victor? I long to hear my name on your lips.”

  “Your Royal Highness,” I interrupted in a strong voice, unwilling to let the Lothario say another word.

  The two looked up at me as I entered the room; Tallarico with annoyance, and Freddie with ... could that be a flash of guilt on her face?

  “George! Let me show you what Signor Tallarico has given me for my birthday,” Freddie said, rising from the sofa. We met in the middle of the room. Tallarico stood frustrated by the sofa. Freddie held out her hand so I could see the gift. “Are they not charming?”

  I looked down at a pair of matching antique hair ornaments, made of solid jet. The tops of the baubles were fashioned into cubes of jet decorated with gold inlay. Each ornament was about four or five inches in length, the jet narrowing from the cube and finally forming a sharp-looking point at the end.

  “Pretty trinkets,” I said. “Grecian?”

  Tallarico strolled over, grinning. “Roman. Most difficult to find a matched pair in a condition perfetto. But the Royal Duchess is worth the effort.”

  “I thought the exact same thing when I had a dress made of Brussels lace for her Royal Highness last autumn,” I said.

  I could have kicked myself the moment the words were out of my mouth. Freddie studied the antique trinkets with intense concentration. Tallarico looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. The Italian would be sure to know that a Brussels lace dress would be worth much more than hair ornaments. He would be bound to speculate as to the exact nature of my relationship with Freddie.

  I know what you are thinking, that it was indiscreet of me to boast of my extravagance. What excuse can I offer? None, really. Tallarico’s scorn of my birthday gift to Freddie of the spaniel still rankled.

  I broke the awkward silence. “If you will excuse us, Tallarico, I have something I wish to discuss with the Royal Duchess. In private.”

  The Italian bowed low over Freddie’s hand, kissing the air an inch above it. “You must promise to save me two dances this evening, your Royal Highness, else my misery will be so great, I shall impale myself on my dress sword.” He grinned at her.

  Freddie laughed softly. “You give me no choice, then. I cannot allow you to do yourself an injury. Your request is granted.”

  Impatiently, I marched over to the double doors and ushered the smug Italian outside the room. He spoke to me in a low voice, a strong measure of mischief in his brown eyes. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

  I snapped the door shut in his face.

  Freddie placed the hair ornaments down on one of the marble pedestals next to a bust of a dog named Trumpet. Before she could remark upon my indiscretion regarding the dress, I said, “I have news of your pearls.”

  “What happened?” she asked, her a
ttention diverted.

  “I followed Lord Kendrick to where he and Lady Ariana were engaged in an argument by your dog cemetery. His lordship knew all along that his cousin must have taken the pearls. Evidently, Lady Ariana is in the habit of stealing things, though she claims not to remember what she has done afterward.”

  “How terrible! Ulga, did you hear that? Lady Ariana does have the pearls,” Freddie said.

  Ulga grunted. “I have never in all my years of service to your family lost anything.”

  “Oh, I know that, Ulga. Pray, do not give it another thought.” Freddie took my arm and led me to the sofa. “Let us sit down and decide what to do now.”

  We seated ourselves, and I spoke. “Lord Kendrick will see the pearls returned to you, of that I am sure. Even so, he is an ugly fellow, Freddie, and I don’t just refer to his physical appearance. He was rough with his cousin, he grabbed her chin, and spoke to her harshly. He even threatened to have her committed to a lunatic asylum if she continued to take things that do not belong to her.”

  “Heavens! I will not have such a man at Oatlands.”

  “I truly regret not learning what information Lord Kendrick might have about the highwayman, but—”

  “About the highwayman?” Freddie interrupted. “You think the marquess knows something?”

  My brows came together. “It is just a feeling I have. When you told him you wanted to question him regarding thievery, why did his thoughts leap to the highwayman instead of his cousin if she makes it a practice to steal? One would think her behaviour would be the first thing to spring to his mind.”

  “That is odd, I suppose. George, much as I would like to help Squire Oxberry identify the highwayman, we cannot allow Lord Kendrick to remain here hoping he will let some clue fall.”

  But then Freddie did not know about the missing letter.

  “Regretfully, I agree. I do think it best if we ask him to leave in the morning and take Lady Ariana with him. It grows too late to do so today. It is almost time to dress for dinner. Besides which, I would not put it above Lord Kendrick to cause a scene, and I shall not have that on your birthday.”