Finn snorted. “You don’t really think she could gather together enough courage to make such a journey on her own, do you?”
“No,” Ashdowne replied. Anne was the kind of female who was afraid to say boo to a goose—or anything else, for that matter. She was sweet and quiet and utterly boring, just the type to give Ashdowne a case of the hives, so he was greatly relieved not to welcome her to Bath. “Who, then?” he asked, annoyed with Finn, who, by now, was grinning from ear to ear.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have said a lady, but the lady, for there surely can’t be another one like her.”
Ashdowne opened his mouth to tell Finn just what he thought of the manservant’s irritating hints when suddenly he had an uneasy feeling about the identity of his guest. But surely even she would not so totally disregard propriety, would she? “Tell me you didn’t leave her on the doorstep,” Ashdowne said, giving Finn a hard look as he rose to his feet.
Finn scoffed. “Of course not! I showed her into the parlor right proper.”
Ashdowne was hardly appeased. Somehow the thought of Georgiana in his parlor was not much of an improvement upon Georgiana storming the gate.
He fixed Finn with a quelling stare. “Tell me she isn’t alone.” If she had come by herself to a bachelor’s residence, he was going to strangle her! He would strangle her anyway, even if she had the entire membership of the Bath Ladies Coffee House Society with her, for decent females simply did not visit gentlemen, no matter what the provocation or company. Without waiting for Finn’s reply, he stalked out of the room.
“Hold on, milord. She ain’t alone! Brought her brother with her.”
“Her brother? What the devil?” Ashdowne muttered, but he did not halt his steps as both annoyance and an unwelcome surge of excitement drove him forward. Pausing on the threshold in order to draw a sustaining breath, he donned a cool expression that belied his irritation. Well accustomed to keeping his thoughts to himself, Ashdowne stepped into the room, evincing nothing except the most polite interest in his guests.
Georgiana, of course, immediately pricked a hole in his hard-won reserve by rushing forward and gushing “Oh, Ashdowne!” in a breathless voice that made him seem the answer to her prayers, and drew him up short.
“Miss Bellewether,” he said, nodding as best he could in the face of her obvious enthusiasm for his arrival.
“Better apologize for barging in here, Georgie.” The words startled Ashdowne, for he had been too occupied with his visitor to note the other presence in the room. Cursing his unusual inattention, he swung round to face an average enough young man who didn’t resemble Georgiana in the slightest. This was her brother? Ashdowne composed a greeting, but before he could get it past his lips, Georgiana launched into one of her rambling, incoherent speeches.
“Well, I suppose I must, though really I can see no harm done. You’re here, and I’m happy to find you at home. I was going to send a note round, but I didn’t know how long it would take to reach you, especially if you should be out. And I cannot help but feel the press of time, for each hour, indeed, each moment, might find the stolen item leaving the city and the culprit escaping prosecution!”
Ashdowne knew a reoccurrence of his previous dismay, for he followed her dialogue with alarming ease. The chit’s making sense to me! He felt like calling Finn in to see if the phenomenon was contagious in the manner of some passing illness. Instead, he forced his features into an expression of bland agreement.
“You are speaking of Lady Culpepper’s robbery, I assume?” he asked, just to assure himself that he understood her correctly. He also stifled an unexpected and unruly sense of disappointment that her enthusiasm was not for him, per se, but for his services as her investigative assistant.
Georgiana nodded, though appearing to rebuke him, as if he were being deliberately obtuse. “Desperation drove me, you see,” she explained. “So when Mother asked me to take Araminta and Eustacia shopping, I instead sought out Bertrand and begged him to accompany me to find you, as I knew Mother would not be pleased if I came alone.”
“Bertrand,” Ashdowne said with a nod toward the young man who was now lounging against the pale silk that covered the walls of the parlor. Although any brother worth his salt would have talked his sister out of such a scheme, Ashdowne suspected it was nigh impossible for anyone to change Georgiana’s mind, once it veered in a certain direction, so he simply tendered his gratitude. “My thanks for your escort.”
Bertrand smiled readily. “Well, I’m just glad you didn’t toss us out on our ears, which is what I told Georgie would happen should we arrive unannounced at a marquis’s house in Camden Place!” The boy paused, and Ashdowne could see they were not cut from the same cloth at all.
“Please be assured that I won’t toss you out,” he said before turning back to Georgiana. “Now, Miss Bellewether, how can I serve you?”
Bertrand let out a choking sound that Ashdowne could only assume to be evidence of his scorn. “Don’t tell me you’re taken in by her nonsense, the ferreting out of suspects and all?” he asked, gawking stupidly.
The question put Ashdowne in the extremely dubious position of having to defend Georgiana, but, to his surprise, he found that the answer came readily enough. He fixed the lounging brother with an arrogant stare designed to put him in his place. “I assure you that I take your sister most seriously.”
Bertrand gaped, his attention swerving back and forth between the two principles as if he could not quite figure out their relationship. His reaction made Ashdowne wonder what manner of suitors Georgiana had known, if his interest in her was so surprising. Probably callow youths like her brother, he thought, who could not see beyond that luscious body.
Dismissing Bertrand with a glance, Ashdowne turned back to Georgiana only to fall victim to The Look. She was gazing up at him as though overcome by his defense, as if no one had more nobly or more eloquently spoken up for her throughout her short life. Ashdowne checked himself, stunned for a moment as he eyed her, emotion rioting through him in a most unnerving manner. Guilt, desire and a certain misplaced pride struggled with something new and unnamed until he found it hard to control his expression.
Georgiana blinked. “Don’t mind Bertrand,” she said, as if his momentary lapse were due to the boy. “Give him something to eat, and he’ll have no thought for anything else.”
Ashdowne blinked himself, startled by the rather primitive declaration, before recovering. “Pardon my negligence. I’ll send for some luncheon,” he said, though it was well past the usual hour for that repast. He called for Finn, who seemed suspiciously close at hand, to bring a tray, and soon the manservant returned with sandwiches and tea and biscuits. True to Georgiana’s prediction, her brother plopped down in the chair nearest the food and proceeded to happily devour it without paying them the slightest heed.
Ashdowne stared at the boy in amazement until Georgiana tugged on his sleeve, drawing him aside. “I have had a few hours to think, and now I am convinced we must act, and soon, if we are to solve the case!”
Her earnestness was nearly his undoing, but Ashdowne marshaled his resources and lifted a brow slightly. “What of Mr. Jeffries? Surely, now that he is here, he will swiftly discover the identity of the thief. After all, that is his job.”
To his astonishment, Georgiana made a face and tossed her blond curls in disgust. “Mr. Jeffries! A pleasant enough fellow, I admit, but, I tell you, your manservant looks more like a Bow Street Runner than he! The man shall never come to the right conclusions without our assistance, and Lady Culpepper will never see her necklace again!”
“And what a tragedy that would be,” Ashdowne said dryly. “I’m flattered by your vote of confidence, but what do you suggest we do? Surely, you don’t still believe that Whalsey and Cheever are responsible?”
“No, of course not!” Georgiana again donned her stop being obtuse expression, and Ashdowne tried to appear more attentive. “They were not my sole suspects! Now I have set my sights upon anoth
er, but I need more evidence.” She frowned at the thought, and Ashdowne knew a nearly overwhelming urge to kiss her delightfully pouting mouth.
He restrained himself nobly. “What do you suggest, another confrontation?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” Georgiana said, grimacing so at his words that Ashdowne determined he was not acting the part of a good assistant. He immediately vowed to reform.
“As I just told you,” she continued. “I haven’t any hard evidence to back up my theory. But the man had both motive and opportunity, and what’s more, he appears fit enough to have climbed up the building.”
“Ah. A feat that definitely limits the prospective robbers,” Ashdowne said.
“Just so!” Georgiana said, rewarding him with a smile for his quick grasp of her methods.
A good assistant definitely reaped what he sowed, Ashdowne thought, enjoying the spectacle. “But how are we to obtain the necessary evidence?” he asked, truly curious. Oddly enough, he felt a twinge of anticipation, just to see what the devil the chit would do next. She really was the most entertaining creature.
“We shall break into his house!”
“What?” Although Ashdowne had thought himself prepared for anything her whimsy might concoct, Georgiana’s declaration made him start. Unused to such bold speech, he glanced over his shoulder, but Bertrand was still happily devouring the sandwiches and tea, totally oblivious to their conversation. Ashdowne shook his head, wondering if he had lost the power to understand her so soon, for surely she didn’t mean…
“I have given it a great deal of thought, and I do not see any other alternative,” she asserted.
Ashdowne was speechless, for once, as he eyed the petite blonde who so blithely contemplated housebreaking. Never, in all of his life, had he encountered anyone quite like Georgiana Bellewether. It was unnerving, unsettling, un-everything, and yet strangely intoxicating, like an overdose of spirits that one was sure to regret.
“You realize, of course, that you are suggesting breaking the law,” Ashdowne finally managed to say. As both a nobleman and the only one in the room with any sense, he felt it his duty to discourage what could at best be described as a foolhardy plan.
Georgiana had to consider his words for a moment, and Ashdowne could almost see the wheels turning inside that pretty head of hers. For all her foibles, Georgiana was no fool. She just needed a bit of direction, which Ashdowne had no intention of providing, he noted with an unpleasant stirring of guilt. It was enough that he stop her from coming to grief with this new scheme, he told himself firmly.
“Yes, I believe that, technically, our search could be construed as not quite legal, but since it is for the good of the case, I cannot see how anyone could object,” Georgiana explained.
Ashdowne restrained his laugh manfully. “Well, the fellow whose place we’re searching might see fit to find fault with us, as could Mr. Jeffries. I doubt that our illustrious Bow Street Runner views housebreaking in a good light.”
“Botheration!” Georgiana muttered, and Ashdowne had the audacity to hope that he had finally gotten through to her. Housebreaking! He could not even begin to imagine the results if the disaster-prone Georgiana went through with her scheme. It was doomed! Surely even she—
“You’re not going to help me, are you?”
For a moment, Ashdowne couldn’t believe his ears, or his eyes, as the delicate creature before him gazed at him with thinly disguised disappointment. And his was a most precipitous fall from grace—from veritable god to un-cooperative cur in one afternoon. It was a displacement that did not sit well upon Ashdowne’s shoulders. Not only had he failed to discourage her in the slightest, but she was disgusted by his efforts! Worse yet, with or without him, the fool chit actually intended to enter someone’s home without an invitation.
“It’s all right,” she said, obviously misinterpreting his horrified expression. “I understand. A man in your position, a marquis, should not be involved in anything with the slightest hint of impropriety.”
Ashdowne might have been able to regain his composure if she had not reached out to pat his arm in a sympathetic gesture. The touch of her small, gloved hand, as well as the piteous look in her blue eyes, was his undoing. When he thought of the black deeds for which men of the aristocracy were notorious—seduction, gambling, dueling and more—as well as his own checkered past, he couldn’t help it.
He burst out laughing, and he laughed so long and so hard that Bertrand glanced up from his repast and Finn, undoubtedly listening outside the door, stepped inside to see what had possessed him. But, true to form, Georgiana was unconcerned with his behavior, except as it applied to her deuced case.
“Does that mean you’ll help?” she asked hopefully.
Between gasps, Ashdowne nodded, even though any sane man would take no part in Georgiana’s intrigues, let alone this one, which was, no doubt, destined for the usual calamitous results. I’m doomed, he thought, but the knowledge served him not, for, like a moth to a flame, he embraced his own downfall.
Chapter Six
They parted with Bertrand in the Pump Room, despite Ashdowne’s mild protest, for Georgiana had no intention of taking him along on their investigation. Oh, she loved her brother, but he was not someone with whom she could exercise her keen mind. Bertrand always did just what he had to in order to get by and considered anything more unworthy of effort. When he bestirred himself, he took a mild interest in the family farm, and it looked to everyone as though he would eventually succeed his father as squire and sheriff.
Most of the time, however, Georgiana considered him quite useless, so when Ashdowne voiced some surprise at their parting, she refused to call her brother back. “He would only be a nuisance,” she said, shaking her head. “Besides, we hardly need him to chaperon a simple walk.”
The housebreaking, of course, was another matter, which she declined to discuss in so public a place. Ashdowne, too, kept silent, although the movement of one dark brow conveyed his doubts about the propriety of them going off alone together. Georgiana dismissed such concerns with a toss of her head, for she had no intention of quibbling about appearances when the investigation lay ahead.
Truth to tell, Ashdowne was proving to be sadly pedestrian. For a while Georgiana did not believe he would accompany her at all, and she had been hard-pressed to hide her disappointment. Although she understood his position, still she had expected him to show a little more enthusiasm for her plan.
And even after he had agreed to join her in this most important endeavor, they had argued over when it was to take place. Georgiana was naturally in favor of conducting their business under the cover of night, but Ashdowne refused in a most infuriating manner. It was only after he asked her how they were to find anything in the dark that she had at last acquiesced to his scheme of entering Hawkins’s lodgings in broad daylight.
When he observed that most people would be out enjoying the sunny afternoon, leaving few, if any, to mark their intrusion, Georgiana had been forced to admit that he might well be right. Perhaps she had misjudged the man, for it seemed that Ashdowne was giving serious thought to the task ahead.
Her enthusiasm renewed, Georgiana found Mr. Hawkins’s direction in the book that all visitors signed upon their arrival in Bath and tugged upon Ashdowne’s sleeve, ready to depart. With a long-suffering look, he attended her, and the two of them headed toward the doors only to be stopped midway through the crowd.
“Georgie!” At the sound of Araminta’s voice, Georgiana winced, but there was no escaping now. Her sister was upon them in an instant, followed swiftly by Eustacia.
“There you are! Where have you been? Mother specifically told you to escort us to the…” Her words trailed off, for even the voluble Eustacia could not continue her prattling in the face of Ashdowne’s elegant presence, and Georgiana knew a warm sensation of possessive pride that she had no right to feel. The handsome marquis was simply her assistant, nothing more, she told herself as she reluctantly made the introduc
tions.
“My lord, may I present my sisters, Araminta and Eustacia?”
“Misses Bellewether. A pleasure to meet you,” he said, bowing toward them in a courteous way that somehow set them to giggling. But then, everything set them to giggling. Georgiana was always at a loss to discover the source of their amusement and so had long ago given up trying to share their mirth.
“My lord,” Eustacia said, hiding behind her ever-present fan.
“My lord,” Araminta said, ducking her head close to her sister and twirling one thick curl. Much to their dismay, the younger girls had inherited the squire’s brown hair, which they were always trying to lighten with some dreadful concoction. After the torment that they had put their locks through, Georgiana was surprised that they were not as balding as their father!
“We’ve been looking all over for you, Georgie,” Eustacia said, eyeing Ashdowne coyly.
“Yes! Wherever have you been?” Araminta scolded, but without her usual acerbity.
“Ashdowne and I have been out walking and stopped in just for a moment. I’m afraid we must be on our way now,” Georgiana said, inching toward the marquis.
“But Georgie!”
“Mother said—”
Georgiana cut off their growing protests with a warning look, but her sisters, as usual, did not take her seriously.
“Where are you going?” Araminta demanded.
“We’re off for a carriage ride, above the city,” Georgiana said, thinking quickly. And it was a good thing, too, because Ashdowne would soon become disenchanted with her siblings. And how could she blame him? Their incessant chatter rarely failed to give her a headache.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful! We shall come, too!” Eustacia cried.
“Mother would want us to join you!” Araminta said. “She said that you—”
“Sorry, but we’re meeting another couple. No room!” Georgiana said, tugging on Ashdowne’s sleeve. Without waiting for further protests, she pushed her way through the crowd, not looking back until they had exited the Pump Room’s massive doors. Ashdowne, whose long strides had easily kept up with her, gave her an amused glance.
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