by Sharon Green
"I'll be going out this afternoon," he said after a long while. Rianne looked up to see him sitting back in his chair, apparently finished with his meal. "I don't know when I'll be getting back, but it might be late. Don't feel that you have to wait up."
"Do you have another lead?" she asked, something in his manner suggesting he did. "If so I want to go with you."
"All I really have is our original lead and a vague idea," he answered, dark-red brows knit with frustration. "I learned this morning that the second heir in Harding's will left the city last night on a 'family emergency.' That tells me the third is probably gone as well, and possibly even the executor has disappeared. I've decided to speak to a man I know, someone who can give me information the public isn't usually permitted to know - if I can talk him into it. That's why I have to go alone."
"And what do you expect this man will be telling you?" Rianne asked, foolishly feeling unwanted and unneeded. Of course she was, at least until it became time to identify the quarry.
"I don't know," he admitted. "It's all part of that vague idea I just mentioned, but that doesn't mean you're now uninvolved. I have the feeling we'll be going out again in the next couple of days, for a social event similar to the one last night."
"Does that scenario include dead bodies too?" Rianne asked innocently, annoyed that he refused to go into more detail about his immediate plans. "If it does, I'm definitely going to be bringing my sword."
"No bodies," he returned flatly, those gray eyes not in the least amused. "And certainly no sword. Aside from the fact that Londoners thrive on scandal, I refuse to tempt fate. Weapons draw their like, and I don't want that sort of thing drawn to you."
"My being unarmed last night didn't keep things from being drawn to me," Rianne pointed out. "But if you're that concerned about scandal and public opinion, just forget about the sword. If the need happens to arise again, I'll manage the way I did the first time."
Her concession didn't soothe him any more than she'd intended it to, but the disagreement didn't continue. It was a long moment before he spoke again, and then it was on another subject.
"When I go out, I'll be leaving my secretary in charge of the house and your safety," he said. "His name is Jeff Banyon, and you can trust him completely. If something happens, do as Jeff tells you and don't worry. He's as good with a sword, pistol, bow, and whip as he is with figures and appointments."
"Whip?" Rianne echoed, never having met anyone who could handle the weapon called a bullwhip. She'd heard a number of people in the colonies could, and so had become interested. She was about to ask another question, but Harris chose that moment to appear.
"Excuse me, sir, but there's someone from Magistrate Fielding's office here," he said to Machlin. "He has one of the magistrate's cards rather than his own, and he asks if you might spare him some time."
"Tell him I've been expecting him, Harris, and take him to my study," Machlin said, reaching for his cup of tea. "I'll be there shortly."
Harris bowed his way out, and Machlin waited for the door to close before he looked at Rianne.
"That's about last night, of course," he said very softly. "Fielding is the most respected magistrate this city's seen in a long while, and he often has his people help the constabulary with investigations. I'll give the man a statement, and that should take care of it."
"At least until the next time," Rianne muttered, but too low for Machlin to hear. He simply finished his tea, pushed away from the table, then left the room. Rianne wondered if they would want to question her as well, then laughed at herself for being ridiculous. They'd never consider talking to a poor, helpless woman, even if she was the only one who had been there for everything that had happened. Statements from the men involved would be much more thorough and useful than anything a woman could have to say.
Rianne stayed in the small dining room for another cup of tea, trying to figure out how Machlin would test his idea. She pushed and prodded at everything she knew for a while, then realized he might have learned things that morning which he hadn't shared. Unless she found out what those things were, she was wasting her time.
"And if he meant to tell me, he would have already done it," she muttered, pushing her chair back and standing. "If I miss out on the end of this, I won't have any trouble hating him afterward."
She stood there next to the table for a moment, watching the rain through the curtained window, then decided to go back to her rooms. At one time she had enjoyed rainy days, but after her mother was gone there had been nothing to do when it rained, and no one to talk to. After a while she'd gotten into the habit of staying in her bedchamber and sewing, a pastime she'd never admitted she enjoyed. Since Machlin intended taking off on his own, it would be a good time to return to the habit.
She expected the front hall to be empty, but Machlin was there dressed to go out, talking to another man who seemed to have just come in. His coat and the hat he held were spattered with raindrops, and he gestured toward the large envelope he held as he spoke. Machlin nodded as he listened, clearly paying careful attention to whatever he was giving his approval to. Business matters, Rianne thought with annoyance, and nothing to be discussed with a woman.
The man Machlin spoke to was almost as large as he, with blond hair that looked unruly even though it was neatly and property tied back. Even from where she stood Rianne could see how light his eyes were, a pale, pale blue that suggested ruthlessness and soullessness. The man who was probably Jeff Banyon was very handsome, but Rianne couldn't help wondering how many women would be able to meet that death-blue gaze. And then the man's voice rose ever so slightly, just enough to let her hear what he said.
"I recommend that you be especially charming to the guardian of that grand lady you're so intent on getting together with," he said to Machlin with a laugh. "If you don't get past him you'll never get to her, and that would be a pity."
"More than just a pity," Machlin replied with a laugh of his own. "I've made up my mind not to take no for an answer, no matter how long and hard I have to talk. I - " That was when he noticed Rianne where she stood, and continued, "Oh, Rianne, you're still down here. Good, I'm glad you are. I'll be leaving as soon as the carriage horses are changed, but right now I'd like you to meet Jeff Banyon. Jeff's been taking care of something for the both of us."
"Mr. Banyon." Rianne acknowledged the introduction with a nod as she approached them, then returned her attention to Machlin. She was still puzzling over the partial conversation she'd heard, but Machlin's comment diverted her. "Something for the both of us, did you say?"
"Collecting your inheritance," Machlin clarified, pointing to the large envelope. "Once I sign and return those papers, the trustees will begin to turn over everything. As soon as I have a moment, I'd like you to sit down with me. I'll show you everything involved, and you can tell me if there's anything special you'd like done with any of it."
"Me?" Rianne almost squeaked, taken totally by surprise. "You want to ask me?"
"Why not?" Machlin countered, obviously amused behind the mildness of his tone. "The property comes from your family. If you want a say in what's done with it, you should be able to have one."
"What if I decide on the wrong thing?" she demanded, certain he had to be joking or lying. "Are you just going to sit there and let me ruin things?"
"Of course not," he returned, still with that mild amusement. "If you choose the wrong thing, I'll tell you why it's wrong and let you choose again. No one is born knowing all about business. Even Jeff here had things he needed to learn."
"Mostly things I didn't know I needed to learn," Jeff Banyon said with a grin. "It came as a shock, but luckily Bryan - Mr. Machlin - was here to soften the blow."
"And Jeff also brought back something just for you," Machlin went on, at the same time gesturing to the man who had appeared at the front door. The carriage was ready, and Machlin was eager to go. "I'll see you get it later or tomorrow, depending on when I get back. A substantial stack of s
overeigns, so if you want to go shopping tomorrow you can do it with your money. Call it an advance against the coming inheritance."
He raised her chin with his hand to give her a brief kiss, then strode out after the man who was obviously his driver. Rianne stood there in confusion, staring at the closed door, and then she looked at Jeff Banyon.
"Is he serious?" she demanded, certain the blond man would know the truth. "He sounded serious, but this has to be some sort of elaborate practical joke. No man alive would do for a woman what he says he intends."
"I'd say he's considering the woman," Banyon returned, his smile amused. "He believes in teaching those capable of being taught, those with an interest in it. Do you have an interest in being taught?"
"I don't know," Rianne answered honestly, seriously bothered. "I never thought I'd have a reason to think about it. Now that I do… Damn the man. He ought to know by now that I hate surprises."
"You're not alone in that," Banyon agreed with a laugh. "Only people who have never had anything unpleasant happen to them feel differently. Is there anything I can do for you before I get back to my work?"
"Yes, but I doubt if you'd be willing." Rianne looked at him, the beginnings of vexation showing through. "I'd love to see that man damaged a little, preferably with something heavy over the head. I'd do it myself, but I hate mussing my gowns."
"Quite understandable," Banyon murmured, trying to swallow a grin. "I'd certainly oblige you, but this is a new coat. I'm sure you understand."
Rianne smiled, understanding even better what he wasn't saying. Machlin was right to trust him, but she had other things to think about. She excused herself and headed for the stairs, thoughts of decisions and sovereigns chasing themselves around in her head.
Jeff Banyon watched his employer's wife disappear up the stairs, then turned silently toward his office at the back of the house. He'd liked her immediately, he realized, even though he'd been reserving opinion on the suitability of any woman for Bryan Machlin. Bryan was a special man who deserved something special in a mate - and it looked like he'd found it.
Rianne Machlin was just a little too tall for Jeff's taste, and would probably be the same for any man who didn't have Bryan's size. And she cared about Bryan, that had been easy to see once he was no longer standing with them. She kept control of her expression when Bryan looked at her, even when she was shocked and disbelieving. Must be that argument Bryan had said they'd had… An angry woman doesn't want anyone to read her deeper feelings, especially the man she's angry with…
Jeff closed the door to his office behind him, hung his hat and coat on the rack to dry, then sat at his desk. The woman had asked him to take something heavy to Bryan's head, but it was a good thing he'd answered in the joking manner he'd been sure she was using. He had the distinct impression that girl would go after anyone who tried to harm her husband, him included. The idea was warming, in a way only men like himself and Bryan could appreciate. People asked them for protection, they never offered it.
But it was now easy to see why Bryan had such a problem. Jeff leaned forward to frown at the envelope he'd carried in, sitting damply on his desk. To have a woman like that risk herself was something that would also have driven him crazy, but stopping her couldn't be as easy as he'd thought. Ordering her to obey wouldn't do it, not if she'd made up her mind differently. She'd die in her tracks rather than back down.
Jeff sat thinking for another moment, then got up to retrieve his coat. Bryan had assigned one of his men to check the guard posts, but Jeff would feel better if he checked them himself. And while he did, he could be asking himself what he would do with a woman like that… Short of tying her hand and foot…
Chapter Sixteen
The next day passed strangely for Rianne. It started when she awoke that morning to a fresh, sunny day. She'd tried to wait up for Machlin's return the night before, but sleep had come before he had. But he'd been in her bedchamber, the proof being the heavy purse of sovereigns left on her vanity. He'd kept that part of his word, at least, and hadn't even stopped to take payment for the gesture.
"He must be planning to do that later," she muttered to herself before ringing for a maid. Along with the sovereigns he'd also left a gift, a rose-shaped brooch in rubies and diamonds. The thing was beautiful and obviously expensive as well, but for some reason it disturbed Rianne. She finally decided he had private reasons for being so generous, reasons he would probably share once she was sufficiently grateful. It was a cynical thought that should have made her feel ashamed, but what it actually made her feel was sad.
She took breakfast alone in the small dining room, Harris having told her that Mr. Machlin was still asleep. He hadn't gotten back until the wee hours, and had left word not to be disturbed unless there was an emergency. Rianne shrugged in agreement, then asked Harris to arrange for a carriage and driver. She wanted to see all those wonderful places to shop she kept hearing about.
When she and the carriage were ready, so was Jeff Banyon and a discreet escort. The carriage driver wasn't the one who had taken Machlin the day before, and this new man had a companion who moved like a hunting cat. All three of them did that, Rianne realized, the two men and Jeff Banyon as well. And Machlin, although it was harder to see because of his size. She asked casualty how dangerous shopping was supposed to be, and Banyon grinned. She didn't need the words to know that with them there, it wasn't going to be dangerous in the least.
As it turned out, the time was more boring than dangerous. There seemed to be quite a lot of carriages out, especially on the streets where the most popular shops were. In places it was very slow going, and while Rianne looked out at the people and buildings and cobbled streets, she had enough time to think about the gold and the brooch Machlin had given her, worrying at the why of his actions. Much of the gold lay heavy in her reticule, and the first thing it did was cause a stir.
Rianne spotted a gunsmith's shop not far from the first dress shop Banyon said they were going to, and a display in the window caught her eye. When the carriage stopped, she first led Banyon back to the gunsmith's. What had caught her attention had been a pair of pistols, a matched set with silver-inlaid ebony grips and barrels polished to the same shining silver.
Seeing them up close convinced her they were something any man would love to own, and only then did she realize she wanted them for Machlin. Why she would think of buying him a gift she didn't know, but the money was hers and she could do what she pleased with it.
And so she had bought the pistols, along with the ebony-and-silver case they came with. The gunsmith's clerk, who had been startled to see a lady entering, suddenly became delighted - until she was the one who produced the sovereigns. He'd expected to send the bill to her husband, or at the very least be paid by her male companion. It scandalized him that she was the one handing over the gold, and for a moment looked as though he'd refuse to take it. That was when Banyon stepped forward, and although the big blond didn't say anything, the clerk gulped and quickly completed the transaction.
It was just as they were leaving the shop that the thought came to her, the sudden understanding of why Machlin's gifts had bothered her. It had been a memory trying to break through, one linked to the short conversation she'd overheard the day before, and the distraction caused by the clerk had apparently been enough to let it all come together.
The memory was of another of the books she'd read, a novel about a wealthy lord who was very hard to please when it came to women. He would invite ladies to stay at his estate for a while, and when he tired of them he would give them gold and send them away. He would do it even if they cried and begged to be allowed to stay, the tears and pleas never moving him. He'd seemed very cruel until it was pointed out that he searched for someone he could love, not just someone who loved him. He finally found the girl, but not until he'd sent away other women without number.
Of course, he'd never married any of the women he lived with, but that was only because he hadn't had to. Whe
n he'd first brought them to his house he was very attentive, but then he'd grown bored and began to look elsewhere. Angus, who had also read the book, had said that was because the man was the sort he, Angus, had heard about. That sort was eager for what he didn't have, but as soon as he got it he began to grow bored. Angus had warned Rianne to be careful about becoming involved with a man like that, since the upper class was supposed to be full of them.
Rianne was rather badly shaken, but was surprised she hadn't seen the answer sooner. Especially after the comments she'd overheard about the grand lady Machlin was determined to get together with. Now, with all the rest, those few words made sense. That man in the book … When he was through with a woman, he usually gave her an expensive trinket as well as some gold. The piece of jewelry was meant as an extra thank-you, and could either be kept as a remembrance or sold. The man considered the gesture only fair, after what the woman had given him. Fair. Yes, the man had been very much concerned with what was fair…
After that Rianne visited the dressmaker's shop, but couldn't really concentrate on finding a fabric she wanted another gown in. She finally bought ten yards of short-napped velvet in dark-blue and the same of cotton in off-white, along with matching thread. The purchase, among other things, was to give them a reason to leave, and when it came time to pay she gave the money to Banyon, then had him take her back to Machlin's house. She no longer cared who paid for what, not with the new understanding filling her thoughts.
It was past lunchtime, and Machlin had already eaten and gone. Rianne asked that tea be sent to her rooms, but said no to any food. Despite her outing she wasn't at all hungry, which was hardly surprising. She thanked Banyon for having accompanied her, had a manservant take her purchases upstairs, then followed silently after.