“Ought we to leave her alone?” Marshall asked, scratching his ear in embarrassment. “After all, she’s implicated—”
“Her maid’s been summoned,” Leo lied.
“Oh, well in that case—”
“Who’s Amos?” Leo asked Coulton as soon as they’d closed the door on Katrina.
“Her husband’s half brother,” Coulton replied grimly.
“Dupont’s half brother?” Marshall looked thoroughly confused, as well he might.
“It’s complicated,” Leo said. “I’ll explain it all when I can.”
“Something to do with the government?” Marshall looked almost relieved.
“Yes, absolutely. Coulton, do you know this Amos? Would you recognise him?”
“Most assuredly.”
“Boscombe,” Leo said to his man, who was still standing guard outside the door, “take his lordship down to the courtyard and see if he can identify the body.”
“Aye, milord.”
Alone with an aggrieved Lord Marshall, Leo thought quickly. He needed to get to the bottom of this murder. But the jewel theft had to take priority.
“Look, Marshall,” he said, clapping him on his ample shoulder. “This is all a bit of a mess but it’s vital that we keep the lid on it for now. Vital to matters of state,” he added untruthfully. “Can you delay reporting the death until morning? Give me some time to work matters out.”
“Well, I suppose a few hours…but Lady Dupont?” He frowned. “Her gown? Surely Dupont needs to be told?”
Leo was absolutely certain that he did not. “All in good time. There has to be an explanation. Lady Dupont can’t possibly be involved in the death of a footman. Surely you can see that?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so for a moment. I’m not suggesting anything, of course, but…but, damn it, Kincade, she knew his name.”
“Which means nothing. He probably carried something up for her and she remembered it.”
“Do you think so? Humph, it’s a devilish rum affair, that’s all I know.” Lord Marshall rubbed his chin, clearly out of sorts and out of his depth. “Still, don’t suppose a few hours will signify. I’ll leave it to you then.” He paused. “And the matter of the missing jewels.”
Leo guided him in the direction of the stairs.
“The next time my wife suggests a house party she’ll get short shift from me, I can tell you. Damned inconvenience.” Lord Marshall was still muttering to himself as he started down the stairs.
Coulton and Boscombe came back almost at once.
“It’s him,” Coulton said with a grim shake of his head. “No mistake about it. But what the devil was he doing here, dressed up as a footman?”
“Following Katrina, most like.” Leo thought it explained a lot. Amos was the reason Katrina had been so terrified when she’d seen someone outside, watching her. But how the hell had Amos known she was here?
“Papa?” Julia stuck her head round the door. “Katrina’s waking up.”
“Go and see to her, would you, Coulton?” Leo asked. “I need a word with my man.”
“What’s going on, milord?” Boscombe asked.
“I haven’t the vaguest notion.”
“Looks like your gal in there’s up to her pretty little neck in this. I know you’ve got a yen for the chit,” Boscombe said grinning. “You paid a king’s ransom just to dance with her and everyone’s talking about it. But what if she’s involved with these thefts?”
“She isn’t. Lady Dupont explained how Katrina came to be here and I’ll resign from the diplomatic service if she was lying.”
“Hmm.” Boscombe didn’t seem convinced. “Think about it. She’s struggling to make a name for herself as a modiste. However good her designs, not many ladies are going to dirty their slippers calling at Basing Lane, and we both know it. So even if she wasn’t involved originally, once Lord Dupont arrived and she threatened to leave, what was to stop Celia offering her a cut?”
“Unless she told the truth and managed to avoid Dupont’s advances by drugging him.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did. But would she have risked the drugs not working for no reason other than helping her friend? There had to be more in it for her than that.”
Leo wanted to hit something. Or someone. Boscombe was only putting into words the thoughts that had been rattling round his own brain. And he didn’t want to hear them. “I know what you say makes sense, but I still don’t believe it,” he said wearily.
“Because you don’t want to. And we haven’t got to the worst bit yet. That husband of hers died and she was accused of murder. Sounds like he was no great loss but even so, murder’s murder. The man’s brother couldn’t prove it, especially since the widow had Lord Coulton fighting in her corner. But if he held a grudge? If he somehow followed her here and she recognised him—”
“When you’ve got away with one murder, the second is easier.” Leo felt as though a leaden weight had replaced his heart. “Come on,” he said grimly. “Let’s go and ask her.”
* * *
Lord Coulton was sitting on the settee, holding Katrina’s hand. Julia slouched in a chair.
“Katrina, my dear,” Lord Coulton said. “How do you feel? Can I get you anything for your comfort?”
“No…no, I thank you.” Katrina brushed a hand across her brow, feeling disoriented and afraid. Dead? How could Amos be dead? “I didn’t mean to startle you but it’s all been such a shock. I couldn’t seem to—”
“I quite understand. You must have been beside yourself when you realised Fisher was here.”
Before Katrina could respond, Leo approached, a solid set to his features. “How do you feel?” he asked, echoing Lord Coulton’s question.
“Dazed. I’ve never fainted before. I didn’t think I was the type.”
“Everyone has their limits.”
“Lord Coulton tells me the dead man is Amos Fisher.” She sighed. “I can’t say I’m sorry but it doesn’t look good for me, does it?”
“He found you here. How?”
“I don’t know.” She spread her hands. “Even if he found the premises in Basing Lane, no one there knows where I really am.”
“He was the man you told me you saw staring up at this room from the garden?”
“Yes. He thinks I killed his brother, you see. He wouldn’t have cared if I’d allowed him to take his brother’s place in my bed.” Katrina shuddered. “It was only when I rejected him that he concocted the fiction about my killing Jeb. I didn’t think anyone would believe him but Amos shouted so loud for so long that I was eventually questioned.”
“Which is when I stepped in,” Lord Coulton said. “You’re not capable of murder, no matter how great the provocation. Besides, I know you didn’t do it because I’m aware who did.”
“What?” Katrina leaned forward. In the periphery of her vision she noticed Leo exchange a speaking look with Boscombe. “How?”
“I had a man keeping an eye on you. Fisher took exception to him looking at you for too long and they had words.”
“Dear God!” Leo ran a hand down his face as he whispered the words.
Katrina stared straight ahead, transported back to a time she’d hoped never to revisit, and endeavoured to put aside her regrets.
“Unfortunately Fisher was more intoxicated than he seemed and took a swing at him. My man jumped aside and Fisher went headlong down the cellar steps.” His eyes were still glued to Katrina’s. “You know the rest.”
“I was discovered standing over his dead body, his blood on my apron where I’d touched him to see if he was still alive. Which is when Amos came upon me. Soon after that he started his horrible rumours.” Her eyes were moist. “If you hadn’t intervened, people might actually have believed him.”
“No father would have done less for his daughter.”
“I knew Amos wouldn’t give up on me. Which is why I took my mother’s name and tried to lose myself in London. It seems I didn’t manage it.”
“
Your gown,” Leo said gently. “How did it come to be torn?”
In a voice shaking with emotion, she explained how Amos had accosted her when she left the ball. The hostility in Leo’s expression when she related how Amos had tried to rape her was frightening. Surely he didn’t hold her to blame?
“That must be what you heard, Boscombe.” Leo’s jaw was rigid with tension as he asked his next question. “Did he harm you in that damned linen cupboard?”
“Not physically.”
“But he struck you.” Leo took her chin in his hand and gently turned her head to one side, running a finger lightly over her split lip. “It’s a good job he’s already dead,” he said with quiet mordancy. “What did he say to you precisely?”
“He warned me against you. He said that just because you paid a fortune to dance with me, that didn’t mean—”
“Leo danced with you?” Julia said. “But you can’t dance. It’s the one and only thing I can do better than you.”
“We must decide what to do about Katrina’s situation,” Lord Coulton said. “How can we prove that she didn’t murder Fisher?”
“Did you encounter anyone else when you left the ballroom?” Leo asked.
Katrina shook her head. “Not to speak to.”
“So if anyone disputed your account, they could maintain that you argued with Fisher not up here but in that courtyard.”
“But I didn’t! I didn’t go outside. Why would I?”
“Anyone wishing to build a case against you might suggest that Fisher was blackmailing you. Why else would he be here?”
Her expression was scornful. “And I overpowered a man twice my size and managed to kill him?”
“Desperation can lend the slightest person extraordinary strength.”
“Whose side are you on?” she demanded, glowering at Leo.
“Yours, naturally. I don’t for one moment suppose you capable of murder. I’m merely playing devil’s advocate.”
“Well, I wish you wouldn’t.” She pushed hair away from her face. “What happens now? Am I to be clamped in irons and thrown into a damp dungeon?”
“Nothing quite so dramatic. We’ll get to the bottom of this later. But first I have a tiara to recover.” Leo turned to Celia. “You’re sure he’s gone to Hawkenbury? If he always intended to cut you out, he might have told you that to put you off the track.”
“Oh no, it’s where he’s gone all right. And he didn’t care if I knew because I wasn’t supposed to survive that fall in the lake. He knows I can’t swim and that I’m terrified of water.” Her glower encompassed the entire room. “I’ll see him swing for his deeds, the feckless bastard, even if I have to join him on the gallows.”
“Right, take her down to the cellars, Boscombe, and make sure she’s locked in somewhere secure. We don’t have time to deal with her now. Dawkins can be trusted to keep her out of sight of curious eyes.”
“Just don’t forget that I helped you.”
“No.” Leo spun to face her, his eyes flat and hard. “What you did was help an enemy of the state commit treason. Do you know what the penalty for that is?”
Celia’s mouth hung open. “Treason? I don’t know anything about treason. We just stole a few baubles. The owners could afford the loss.”
“Take her away, Boscombe.” There was disgust in Leo’s tone. “Then organise your men and come back immediately. We’re for Hawkenbury.”
Katrina stood up. “I’m coming with you.”
“Out of the question!”
“I insist.”
“Which cuts no ice with me.”
“Evidently not, but I’ve earned the right to see this thing through. I’ve been used, faced with the very real prospect of having to share another man’s bed, and threatened by a ruffian whose intention was to rape me and then set me up as a prostitute.” Leo gaped at her. “Oh, did I forget to pass on that little snippet of information?” She tossed her head. “Well, now you know. It’s been made to look as though I’m a thief. I’ve been pursued by Lord Gower, who thought I’d specifically summoned him here for the purpose of seduction, and now I’m accused of murder. Again.” She stood mere inches from Leo, refusing to back down. “I think I deserve to see these men get their just deserts.”
“We don’t always get what we deserve in this life, Kat,” he said gently.
“You hardly need to tell me that.”
“Besides, Lord Marshall only agreed to put off notifying the authorities about the murder until the morning if I kept you here.”
“Being with you would be the same thing.”
“No, I gave him my word that you would stay at Upton Manor.”
“You think I’ll try to escape.” Pangs of bitter disillusionment ripped through her. “You think I’m guilty.”
“No, not at all.” But he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s merely that—”
“Go then, if that’s the case! I have no wish to be in your company.” The pain it caused to know he didn’t trust her was almost her undoing. “And you need have no cause for concern. You have my word, for what it’s worth, that I won’t leave here.”
In her agitation Katrina had forgotten all about Lord Coulton and Julia. Belatedly realising they were watching the fierce exchange with differing degrees of interest brought her to her senses. She dragged her eyes away from Leo’s face and subsided into a simmering silence.
He paused for a moment and reached out to touch her face. She slapped his hand away.
He turned towards the door. “Take care of them both,” he said to Lord Coulton. “I should be back shortly after dawn. Don’t let them be seen together by any of the servants.”
“I understand.”
“Lock the door after me.”
“I knew you wouldn’t take my word,” Katrina said bitterly.
“It isn’t that. It’s more a case of keeping out curious eyes whilst you’re here together, otherwise Dupont will hear about it and all your efforts will have been in vain.”
“I no longer care.”
“Until later.” He cast a lingering glance Katrina’s way, almost as though he was caressing her with his eyes. And then he was gone.
* * *
Boscombe strode along at Leo’s side. “Do you think she told the truth?”
“Celia?”
“Yeah. She might be trying to put us off the track.”
“She loved James but he used her and then tried to kill her.” Leo nodded decisively. “She spoke the truth.”
“A scorned, bitter woman. I guess she did.”
“Now then, tactics,” Leo said. “We’ll need to go light-handed and leave our horses somewhere short of the inn so James doesn’t hear us arriving. You sent Andrews and Coombes ahead and they know to wait on us?” Boscombe nodded. “All right. Four of us on foot ought to be able to get to those stables without him being any the wiser. We’ve done far riskier things in our time.”
“Aye, right enough.”
“Do we know where the inn actually is? Is anyone here familiar with the village? Personally, I’ve never heard of the bloody place.”
“I had a word with Dawkins just now. The village is about ten miles away on the main Eastbourne Road and there’s an inn about a mile beyond.”
“All right. Prepare the horses.”
“Already done.”
Leo and Boscombe strode towards the backstairs. When they reached the stables Leo swung himself into the saddle of the nearest horse, setting off down the drive at a canter. Riding fast, they passed through the sleeping hamlet of Hawkenbury less than two hours later. As soon as they cleared the last cottage, they found a stand of trees and tethered their sweating horses behind them.
“From here we walk.”
Leo didn’t have to add that they should do so stealthily. Boscombe knew how to blend into the night and move without making any sound. They saw the outline of the dark inn in the pre-dawn light several minutes before they reached it. Leo’s men materialised out of nowhere as they approa
ched.
“He got here a while back,” Andrews said, “and went inside. Not sure how he got past the night watchman but he did.”
“What will we do then?” Boscombe asked. “Wait for him to come out?”
“No, Boscombe, I think we ought to pay these gentlemen a surprise visit.”
Leo strode up to the side door of the inn and rapped on it with his fist. It was an age before he heard the sound of the bolts being drawn back.
“What do yer want now?” grumbled an old codger with a beard so long and thick that Leo wondered if anything was living in it. When its owner saw a gentleman of Leo’s stature standing there, his entire attitude changed. “Sorry, sir. Weren’t expecting no one quite this early.” He opened the door wider and beckoned Leo and Boscombe inside. “What can I be doing for yer?”
“Did a young Irishman just seek admittance?”
“Aye, that he did, the insolent young pup.”
“Who did he want?”
“His master had told him to rouse him as soon as he returned from some errand or other. Didn’t need to rouse the whole bloody house though,” the man said, aggrieved. “It ain’t like I’m deaf, or nothing.”
“Which room is his master in?”
“Right at the top of the stairs.”
Leo left his two men to cut off escape routes whilst he and Boscombe took those stairs two at a time. They paused when they reached the door in question. Leo pressed an ear to it and could hear the steady rumble of voices raised in argument. He quirked a brow, nodded to Boscombe and together they burst into the room.
“What the devil…”
Three heads turned in their direction. James and two men Leo had never seen before. One was a small middle-aged man with protruding eyes and a sallow complexion who seemed totally flummoxed by the intrusion. The other was young. And built like a bull. Leo was grateful the buyer only had one protector with him. He and Boscombe should be able to handle him and James with ease.
The Perfect Impostor Page 24