Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02]

by Dangerous Angels

  Elizabeth said, “What a pleasant room this is, Charlotte. I do believe, the way this house is positioned, you must enjoy a view of the sea from nearly every window.”

  “I’m afraid some of them overlook the stable yard, and the hedge garden and headland behind the house,” Charley said, amused. “Moreover, as I have frequently said to Sir Antony—who becomes more enamored of the place with each passing day, I might add—one ought not to make up one’s mind about Seacourt House until one has experienced bad weather here.”

  “Mr. Gabriel, my lady,” the footman said.

  She stood to greet him. “How do you do, Mr. Gabriel? What brings you to us today? You know Miss Tarrant and Lord Rockland, of course.”

  “I do, indeed,” Gabriel said. “I must say, Lady Foxearth, I was most astonished to be greeted by a heathenish, chattering monkey in your entrance hall.”

  “Oh, dear,” Charley said. “I thought Letty was taking him to the kitchen.”

  “So she said, ma’am. Said she only paused on her way to bid me a good day and that ’twas my great size that set the strange little creature to chattering. Lady Letitia assures me he is quite tame, but he did not take to me at all, nor I to him I must say. Fact is, I ain’t accustomed to finding wild beasts in any man’s home, let alone that of a gentleman, but I daresay I shall laugh about it all later.”

  “That is kind of you, Mr. Gabriel. Won’t you sit down?”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, waiting until she had done so before obeying. He glanced at Elizabeth, then back at Charley, saying, “To come right to the point, I want to wish you happy in your marriage, and to tell you I heeded Lord Rockland’s advice and spoke with Bishop Halsey about your unlocking the Seraphim Coffer. He approved the notion, I am pleased to say. Gave it as his opinion that since it takes place outside the altar rail, there can be no objection. I do not approve of women involving themselves in sacred matters, but I will bow to higher authority.”

  “I am sorry you disapprove, of course, but I shall be delighted to have a part in such a ceremony,” Charley said. “What, exactly, must I do?”

  Obviously pleased to be asked, he said, “The coffer will be in place at the altar rail, for I shall send it to Truro under guard on Wednesday. You will stand to one side of it, ma’am. After the bishop’s procession enters the cathedral, he will perform a ritual or two. Then the Duke will address the congregation, whereupon you unlock and open the coffer, then stand back whilst he presents the sacred vessels. The actual consecration will follow, for the vessels must be consecrated, too, before their use.”

  “Well, I can do that, easily enough. Will you take refreshment, Mr. Gabriel?”

  “Why, thank you.” He had been casting glances at Elizabeth from the moment he entered the room. Now, drawing his chair nearer to hers, he said, “May I say that it is most pleasant to see you again, Miss Elizabeth.”

  With wicked amusement, Charley discerned Rockland’s startled displeasure. “Mr. Gabriel,” she said sweetly, “I must tell you that Miss Tarrant has expressed admiration for the drawing-room clock your father made for Tuscombe Park House.”

  “Have you, indeed, Miss Tarrant? A splendid timepiece. My father was born of humble stock, but raised himself by means of his skill. I am proud to be his son.”

  “Do you also make clocks, sir?” Elizabeth asked.

  Aware that Rockland’s annoyance was increasing, Charley feigned deep interest in Gabriel’s reply.

  He said, “I can fix most anything that goes wrong with a timepiece, for I learned from a master, Miss Elizabeth, but I lack his creative genius. Thus, I became mayor of Lostwithiel instead. I fancy I’ve made a rather good job of that, if I do say so myself.”

  Struck by a thought, Charley said, “Perhaps you might be able to assist me with a small problem I’ve come across, Mr. Gabriel.”

  “If I can, my lady. A civic problem?”

  “It is more in the nature of an irritation,” she said. “The daughter of a St. Merryn tenant is apprenticed at Angelique’s shop in Lostwithiel High Street. No one seems to have seen the child for some time, and when I tried to do so, Michael Peryllys refused to allow it. I am doubtless overly concerned, but I will feel better when I can tell her parents I have seen for myself that she is healthy and happy. Perhaps you can advise me as to the best course I should take.”

  “Nothing easier,” he replied. “I’ve a personal interest in that place, as you might say, and I don’t mind telling you I’d like a look at it myself. Moreover, though I may be talking out of school, I’ve cause to believe Michael Peryllys may be hand in glove with a certain coastal gang that has been causing a deal of trouble on our shore. ’Tis a pernicious business and must be stopped. So when next you visit Lostwithiel, just you come right to me. I’ll roust out the constable and some stout men to escort you to Angelique’s. You’ll have no trouble then seeing the girl, I promise you.”

  “Thank you, I shall ride to Lostwithiel tomorrow,” Charley said.

  “Tomorrow, my dear?” Sir Antony stood on the threshold, surveying his guests through his quizzing glass.

  Charley started guiltily, but catching Rockland’s amused and speculative look, she recovered swiftly and said, “I am glad you have come in, sir. As you see, here are Miss Tarrant, Rockland, and Mr. Gabriel, all wanting to wish us well in our marriage. At least,” she added mischievously, “Elizabeth and Mr. Gabriel have come to do so. I think Rockland expected us to have murdered each other by now. He must be prodigiously disappointed to see us both quite alive and well.”

  “Not disappointed a whit,” Rockland said, rising to shake hands with Sir Antony. “I came to see if you had tamed the lioness yet.”

  “And what lioness is that?” Sir Antony inquired, his demeanor as aloof as ever.

  Rockland chuckled. “All right then, have it your way, but I’ve known her longer than you have, and by Jove, I’m well acquainted with the sharp claws and mighty roar she can produce when she’s displeased.”

  Sir Antony raised his eyebrows. “Dear me, do you refer to Charlotte? But that cannot be, sir, for I have found Charlotte’s voice ‘ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing in a woman.’” Leaving Rockland gaping (and Charley, too), he turned with aplomb to Elizabeth, whom he greeted with a bow and a polite comment. Then, to Gabriel, he said, “Well met, sir. It is kind of you to wish to pay your respects.”

  Gabriel said, “’Twas more than that, sir. I came to inform Lady Foxearth that his eminence, the bishop, has approved her part in the consecration ceremony.”

  “I believe I also heard you encourage her to visit Lostwithiel tomorrow,” Sir Antony murmured, employing his quizzing glass to good effect again. “I am afraid—”

  Before he could finish, Charley cut in swiftly, saying, “Mr. Gabriel offered to lend me an escort, sir, including a constable, to compel Angelique and Michael Peryllys to let me see Jenifry. Is that not kind of him?”

  Antony looked directly at her, but she met his gaze easily. She did not believe he would forbid an excursion to Lostwithiel when such a ban must sound unreasonable to the others, nor did he. Smiling, he said, “I wish I were free to accompany you, my dear, but I’ve business in St. Austell tomorrow. Still, I have every confidence in Gabriel,” he added sweetly. “He will see that you come to no harm.”

  Gabriel beamed, but Charley gritted her teeth, not liking the implication that she was unable to look after herself. She hid her feelings, however. Not only did she not want to give Rockland the satisfaction of knowing Sir Antony had irritated her, but she feared Sir Antony might still forbid her to go if she gave him the least cause to do so.

  The footman and a maid brought in refreshments, and the conversation became desultory. Charley enjoyed watching James Gabriel flirt with Elizabeth. The man was clearly besotted, but for the life of her, she could not imagine what the attraction was. Elizabeth was her usual quiet self, listening carefully when Gabriel or any of the three men spoke, saying nothing more interesting herself t
han, “Oh, indeed?” or “How very interesting that is, to be sure.”

  Charley took little part in the conversation. She had no desire to discuss the weather or the changing colors of the sea, or the habit the gulls had developed of flying near carriages in hopes that someone would toss them a morsel of food. When Gabriel mentioned the coastal gang again, however, she did perk up her ears. She glanced at Sir Antony, but that gentleman said only, “No doubt they have their own reasons. I believe there is much poverty in this area, which may account for a considerable amount of villainy when all is said and done.”

  “Nonetheless, sir, these pestiferous thieves must be stopped. I’ve spoken with Francis Oakes, the Lloyd’s of London chap in St. Austell. He agrees with me, but declines to call in the army, even though we both sense that the gang’s got plans for something afoot in the near future, so I hope he may alter his decision before long. In any event, I mean to put the matter to Wellington when he arrives. As Prime Minister, he owes it to the people of Cornwall to send at least a division of cavalry to support the local customs agents and revenuers. The Methodists, at this point, are our strongest allies, and they, I need hardly say, are a quite insufficient force against armed villains.”

  “Oh, Mr. Gabriel,” Elizabeth said, wide-eyed, “would you really dare to speak so to our national hero? What will he do, do you think?”

  “I must do my duty, Miss Tarrant, and I shall hope and trust he does his.”

  “That’s a false hope if you want the army,” Charley said. “Why, if you have been reading the papers, Mr. Gabriel, you must know that the Duke believes the army to be the poorest choice we can have when it comes to peacekeeping. Our military men are trained for violence, not peacekeeping. He strongly supports Mr. Peel’s Police Act, which eventually will mean civilian constabulary all over England.”

  “That,” Gabriel said, “might do very well for the city of London, my lady, but it won’t do for Cornwall. And as it’s planned, I believe it will be only the city of London as will be affected by yon foolish Police Act.”

  “He’s got you there,” Rockland said, grinning. “It’s called the Metropolitan Police Act, after all.”

  Before Charley could reply, Elizabeth said, “Charlotte, I am persuaded that Mr. Gabriel must know much more about such matters than you do. You would do well to listen carefully to what he says.”

  “First of all,” Charley said testily, “the City of London is in full agreement with Mr. Gabriel. That ancient square mile wants to police itself as it has always done, and its citizens remain fervently opposed to the Police Act, which is why Mr. Peel agreed when he recommitted his bill that they shall not be affected by it. That was very astute of him, too, because the City represented his primary opposition, and without it, the bill passed in the Commons. Wellington has already introduced it in the upper house.”

  “Surely you are mistaken,” Elizabeth murmured uncomfortably. “The city of London is much bigger than one square mile, and if Mr. Gabriel says London—”

  “My dear Elizabeth, I think it is you who does not understand. Let me explain that the City of London comprises only one square mile, the ancient Roman part, of metropolitan London, which is much, much larger. Thus, the City of London and the metropolitan aspect of Mr. Peel’s bill have little to do with each other. The plan, of course, is eventually to provide a civilian police force for every metropolitan area in England—and Wales and Scotland, too, I daresay, in the end.”

  Gabriel said with masculine condescension, “Even so, my lady, that just goes to prove that Mr. Peel’s law has naught to do with us here in Cornwall today.”

  “But it does!” She glanced at Sir Antony but saw that he had no intention of entering the argument. “Mr. Gabriel, you must see that once the Police Act passes, it will affect all of England, for what serves London will serve us all in the end. We will have civilian police throughout the country, and not just our village constables—who try to keep peace but are unable to do more than raise a hue and cry for a thief or a murderer—but officers with authority to act, to go right out and catch the criminals.”

  “We have thief takers to attend to that distasteful task now,” Rockland said.

  “Don’t you see how wrong it is to pay someone to recover lost goods? That leads to dreadful fraud and corruption. Only think of the scandals we have had in the past fifteen years. Think back to the last time a so-called thief taker was brought to book for organizing his own gang to steal things and then collecting money from the victim to return the goods. Police should be paid a fair salary to act for everyone.”

  “The army could do the same thing,” Gabriel said, “and we already pay them.”

  Elizabeth said, “How very clever you are to think of that, Mr. Gabriel. I am certain that your arguments must prevail with the Duke of Wellington.”

  “Well, they won’t,” Charley said flatly. “You cannot know much about him if you think that, and in view of the fact that he is taking great pains not—”

  “That will do, Charlotte,” Sir Antony said. He spoke calmly, but there was a note in his voice that stopped her cold. Realizing that she had nearly said Wellington was taking pains not to call in the military, she looked ruefully at him and said, “I beg your pardon, sir. You are quite right. I allowed my zeal to overcome my good sense.”

  “Your good manners, more like,” Rockland exclaimed. “By Jove, you’re a Trojan, Foxearth. I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

  Charley grimaced. “Pray, sir, what day is that?”

  “The day, my precious, when you would submit to a stronger will than your own. What a pleasure it is to see it!”

  “Is it?” Charley said dangerously.

  “Really, my lord,” Elizabeth said, “you ought not—”

  “Don’t deny me this little triumph,” Rockland said. “I’ve waited far too long to see it. Your cousin is one of my favorite people, to be sure, but I don’t deny I’ve found her frequently hot of hand.” He turned, still grinning, to Sir Antony and said, “By Jove, sir, you could have knocked me over with a feather when you said you’d take her off my hands. Why, when I first broached—Oh, just so.” Breaking off, he looked flustered, glanced at Charley with color flooding his cheeks. Then he looked guiltily back at Sir Antony. That gentleman was watching Charley.

  Her gaze swept from one to the other, and as the full import of Rockland’s words struck her, she rose to her feet, looked straight at him, and said, “Just what are you saying, Rockland? What did you broach to him, sir? By heaven, if you mean what I think you mean—”

  “Be silent, Charlotte.” All three men had risen when she did, but Antony’s tone was not angry, only warning.

  Rockland looked more uncomfortable than ever. Gabriel glanced curiously from one player to another. Elizabeth remained placidly in her seat.

  Charley turned, intending to speak reasonably to Sir Antony, to explain that she had every right to know what Rockland had nearly said. However, one look at his stern expression, instead of steadying her, swept away what little control she had left. Before she knew it was happening, her temper ignited. “How dare you command me to be silent,” she cried. “I won’t be ordered about by you or by anyone else for the amusement of others. It is my life you have arranged between you, and by heaven, I have every right to know how it was done and by whom. By God, sir, I will—”

  “You won’t,” Sir Antony said. His icy, implacable tone cut right through her diatribe and silenced her. For the few moments before he spoke, she had forgotten Elizabeth’s presence, and Gabriel’s. She remembered them now, flicking a glance at each before meeting her husband’s relentless gaze again. He said in that same chilling tone, “We will excuse you, Charlotte. Our guests can see that you are unwell.”

  “Oh, yes,” Elizabeth murmured with obvious concern. “Perhaps you would like me to go upstairs with you, Cousin Charlotte. I am rarely vaporish myself, but—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Sir Antony said, “though you are
kind to offer.”

  Charley seethed. She had overstepped the bounds, she knew. But, believing herself to have been strongly provoked, she stood her ground, glaring at Sir Antony.

  “Perhaps,” he said gently, “you would like me to take you up, my dear.”

  Her determination collapsed in an instant, and she fled, certain that she heard Rockland chuckle before she slammed the door behind her. She went no farther than the stair landing, where she paced impatiently, wishing the others would hurry up and leave.

  In the drawing room, Rockland’s amusement had overcome him. “By Jove, I’d have paid good money to see that. What a shrew!”

  “You are speaking of my wife, sir,” Antony said evenly.

  Rockland sobered at once. “I beg your pardon, I’m sure. It’s just that seeing you squash her tantrum so easily when she was practically hurling lightning bolts—”

  “I saw no lightning bolts,” Antony said. “I heard a lady express her displeasure, as any lady has the right to do. If you heard aught else, my dear Rockland, I suggest that you inform me of it before you inform anyone else, for if I were to hear—”

  “You won’t,” Rockland assured him hastily. “No tantrum, no lightning bolts. It shall be just as you say, Foxearth, and no more. Ain’t that right, Gabriel?”

  “To be sure,” Gabriel said, looking from one man to the other in bewilderment. “I do not pretend to understand much of what happened after Lady Foxearth explained the difference between the City of London and London proper. Fascinating, that was. I do hope she will not be too much indisposed.”

  “I will gladly extend your felicitations to her,” Antony said.

  Elizabeth stood then and arranged her skirt, saying matter-of-factly, “It is time we returned to Tuscombe Park, my lord. Mama will grow fretful if we are away too long. Will you walk out with us, Mr. Gabriel?”