by Janet Kent
###
Alicia completed yet another circuit of the ballroom and labeled the evening thus far a perfect disaster. Not a single eligible gentleman had asked for a spot on her card, although many ineligible ones expressed interest. And Louis had already quit the game room and was strutting toward her like a puffed up rooster. She put on her most innocent expression and widened her eyes as he approached.
“I tell you,” he whined as soon as he reached her side. “The card room here isn’t worth a ha’penny. Those lily-livered jackanapes won’t partner me at whist.”
“I smelled a lily once,” Alicia said and stared at his face as though she found its pudgy contours of great interest.
Louis scratched his nose and glared at her. “How am I supposed to win money if those pigs won’t gamble with me?”
Alicia paused to consider. “I’ve never eaten suckling pig.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” he screeched. “I have no idea why hostesses covet your presence at their soirées. You’re an addlepate.”
“I did see them the refreshment room,” Alicia replied. “I ate one and it was quite delicious. I do love fruit.”
Louis stared at her. “I said ‘addlepate’, not ‘apple plate’,” he sputtered. “What are you, deaf? I will never understand why you get all the invitations and I have to tag along at your side. It should be the other way round.”
“I like invitations,” she said, toying with a blonde ringlet.
He rolled his eyes. “You know, I’m glad you’re a little stupid, cousin. I was afraid you’d turn out badly with the education your mother insisted you have. I’m glad to see the tutors had little lasting effect. I wouldn’t want you to get ideas above your station.”
“My mother was a very nice lady.”
“Hm. Well, at least she did no lasting harm. I bet you didn’t even read those books you were quoting. No doubt you just parrot those who are smarter than you.”
Alicia wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like parrots.”
“Nobody likes parrots! Parrots are as stupid as… as dancing.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You weren’t expecting me to dance with you, were you, cousin?”
She shook her head so hard stray curls fell into her face.
Louis frowned. “Matter of fact, you’re not dancing with anyone. Why did you even insist we come to these things, if you’re just going to stand around doing nothing all night?”
Alicia tilted her head to one side. “I get to wear gowns.”
He sniffed. “Fat lot you know about fashion. When you belong to me, I’ll be sure to dictate your dress so that you don’t gad about town looking like a heathen.”
She giggled. “Town is fun. I love to shop with Great-aunt Beatrix. Shopping is fun.”
“One inch from the madhouse, that one,” Louis said with a snicker. “Bedlam-bound for sure. If I were her guardian…”
Only eight days remained until her father expected her to willingly betroth herself to this self-righteous clod? Alicia fingered her rope of pearls, wishing she could wrap the strand around Louis’ fat neck.
###
Ian considered the painting with a critical eye then stepped forward to straighten it again. There. He hoped Chadwick had not missed it during its absence from the wall. Hard to say how often he used his library, and whether he would be the sort to notice such things.
Satisfied he’d placed the frame at the precise angle he’d found it, Ian crossed the room to the doorway. He cocked his head and listened for sounds before stepping out into the corridor.
Silence.
Not even Elizabeth arrived to break the stillness. Perhaps that was just as well, Ian admitted with a sardonic grin. It seemed he couldn’t behave in a proper manner when she was about. He hoped she was fast asleep.
Ian leaned on his swordstick and stared down the hall. He longed to search the office, but he’d already taken a huge risk by coming so early. Elizabeth might wake up any second and stumble upon him again. Worse, Chadwick or Alicia could still be out at some rout, liable to walk through the door at any moment
He ought to make his own rounds. He needed to visit as many parties as he could, to search for suspicious personages in possession of mysterious amounts of money. He could come back to Chadwick House later. Tomorrow, perhaps. Besides, Cobb was waiting with the carriage.
He picked up his swordstick and slipped from the house. He had barely walked a half mile from the house when unmistakable sound hooves clopping up the road behind him. Ian paused and turned.
Cobb.
Ian swung into the carriage and removed his mask.
“On the way to the second house of the evening then, sir?” came Cobb’s droll voice.
“And hurry,” answered Ian. “I’m not sure we’ll get to many parties tonight, the hour being what it is.”
“Very well, sir. You’ll find your shirt and accoutrements on the seat next to you.”
Ian looked across the seat and saw the small pile. Cobb was a lifesaver.
He changed into the freshly pressed shirt and did his best to tie his cravat as best he could, being in a moving carriage without aid of a mirror. He had just placed his hat on his head when Cobb pulled into the residence of the first party on his list. Perhaps the jewel thief would give himself away at one of tonight’s balls. Ian shook his head. So far, the villain had been quite circumspect.
Even as he leapt to the ground, he sensed Miss Kinsey’s presence. She and her cousin were walking away from him, toward a carriage being brought round. With luck, they wouldn’t notice his proximity and he wouldn’t be forced into a prolonged conversation with the ever-exasperating Larouche.
“Get into the carriage, cousin,” came Larouche’s shrill voice.
“Is it ours?”
“Of course it’s ours! You saw it brought ’round, didn’t you? Why would we get into someone else’s carriage?”
Miss Kinsey clapped her hands. “What fun it would be!”
Ian watched as Larouche shoved her inside and climbed in after her. Even over the din of hoof clops as the horses pulled away, he could still hear Larouche’s inimitable voice railing at her. Ian shook his head as he climbed the steps of the great house.
He was glad to be unrelated to both of them.
###
In the morning, Ian awoke with the sun. He rubbed his face with his hands, his bleary vision hinting that three hours of sleep wasn’t quite enough to counteract a long, stressful evening. He hesitated to ring for Cobb, knowing the old man also needed his rest. Ian tossed on his robe. He cinched the tie around his waist as he left the bedroom and descended the stairs. He rounded the corner to step into the sunlit corridor when a backlit figure cut a shadow across his path.
Caspian.
“Dammit, man,” Ian grumbled, and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning.”
Caspian shrugged and stepped away from the window to clap Ian on one shoulder. “This is my second visit. I came at half past three and you had not yet returned.”
“I was out,” Ian said, “doing your favor.”
“Do stop grumping,” Caspian scolded in a cheerful tone. “It doesn’t become you. Have you got any names?”
“On my desk.”
Caspian smiled. “I’ll ring for tea while you fetch them, then.”
Ian sighed and trudged back up the stairs. By the time he’d changed his clothes and tucked the list into his pocket, he’d begun to feel more awake. He headed down to the dining room.
Caspian sat at the table sipping tea. A small silver tray piled high with toast and eggs towered in front of him. Caspian’s plate indicated he’d been helping himself while he waited. He turned to Ian and grinned.
Without a word, Ian slid into the chair across from him and tossed the folded paper next to the tray. He fixed a plate and ate with sudden hunger while Caspian scrutinized the list.
“All thirteen individuals mentioned recent windfalls?” he asked.
&
nbsp; Ian finished a gulp of tea. “Or extravagant purchases.”
Caspian nodded. “Good work. I’ll check out their finances, and we’ll see whether there are known explanations.”
“When will you be back?”
“You know me,” Caspian replied with a grin. “I’ll pop in sometime.”
“Yeah, I know you.”
“What?” Caspian gasped with mock indignation. “Are you upset I left you alone in London for so long?”
Ian fixed him with a sour look.
“Come now, Ian, what’s a week? How bad could it have been? Besides, I got you introduced to Chadwick’s daughter. She’s a sight, isn’t she?”
“Beautiful, yes. Batty, more so.”
“Miss Kinsey?” Caspian exclaimed. “Really? She seemed so sweet. I felt Dame Fortune had dealt her a bad hand.”
“She’s bizarre,” Ian repeated. “One moment smiling and sensible, the next raving about who-knows-what. She can be quite witty, especially when dealing with that obnoxious cousin of hers, but she’s a bit too high in the instep for my taste.”
“She snubbed you?” Caspian asked in disbelief.
Ian scowled and concentrated on his toast.
Caspian burst into laughter. “Rich! So much for my matchmaking aspirations.”
“Mind your investigation, Caspian. My matters are my own. Have you any additional news?”
“Yes, actually. The most recent set of stolen jewels were tracked here to London, secreted in a particular blue vase. A maid noticed its disappearance the same night as the jewel theft, so we were lucky there. We even discovered which shop held the contraband and on which day Chadwick intended to come make a purchase.”
“And?”
Caspian shrugged. “And he bought something else entirely. We waited a few more days, and when he didn’t return, I sent someone in to purchase the vase. We were able to return those items to their proper owner.”
“Chadwick is no longer suspected?”
“So it seems. However, we should follow through with the note, so we can say with honesty that we left no stone unturned. How are things on that front? Anything interesting in Chadwick House?”
Thoughts of Elizabeth sprang to mind, but Ian figured now was not the time to mention stolen kisses with the baron’s niece. Instead, he filled Caspian in on the existence of the trick frame and hollow book.
“Hm. Interesting, if uninformative,” Caspian mused. “What about the piece of pottery? And the false-backed drawer?”
“I’ll be going back tonight. I hope to have more information soon.”
“Very well.” Caspian stood. “I may be back in less than a week.”
Ian moved to stand as well, but Caspian motioned him away.
“No worries, friend. I know my way out,” he said and headed for the door. With a grin, he added, “Actually, I’m on my way back to Plymouth via Bond Street. My sister seems to think a bauble of some sort might cheer her up.”
He disappeared around the corner.
Shopping. Indeed. Ian cocked his head to one side. Women did seem to appreciate that sort of gesture. He finished his breakfast and rose to his feet. Perhaps a similar excursion would benefit his own cause as well.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alicia awoke in total darkness. The dreamy remnants of Rogue’s kiss lingered in her mind. She smiled. In her sleep, he’d kissed her more than once. She’d even kissed him back. She imagined he clasped her to his chest, whispering words of love.
Her smile faded. No sense dwelling on dreams. No doubt, she thrilled in their secret rendezvous because of the anonymity. She could experience things she would not, could not, as herself. If he came back, she might even let him kiss her again. Discover the difference of someone liking her for herself. True passion. Oh, would he come again?
She propped herself up on her elbows. No matter. She should stop thinking about Rogue and start thinking about her own future. She had yet to determine Papa’s sudden rush to see her wed, and only eight days remained before Louis expected to settle contract points and apply for a marriage license.
Alicia shoved the covers aside and swung her legs onto the floor.
With a practiced movement, she lit the candle beside her bed long enough to apply a face-full of patches and locate her house cap. She snuffed the flame and crept into the hall. Satisfied her father’s snores indicated sound sleep for the time being, she tiptoed down the stairs and into his office.
She slipped behind the desk and sat in his chair. The large windows to her back let enough moonlight filter inside to save her from needing to light a candle. For once, there was no rain.
Alicia sorted through the papers on top of the desk, careful to remember which corner they came from and which order they had been piled. Nothing regarding business deals of any kind jumped out at her. Perhaps he kept those papers in the drawers. All these were related to antiquities in one way or another. Boring.
As Alicia flipped through the last stack, her name seemed to leap off a page. What in the world? Intrigued, she stood and brought the paper closer to the window for better light.
Papa had filled the page with a long list, many items of which were scratched out, some reworded several times. The single word “Louis” headed the paper. It seemed to be Papa’s notes for the marriage contract he intended to write.
Alicia scanned the page, curious to discover the details. She would receive £400 per year income, for the next twenty years. How lucky! Her firstborn son would inherit the barony only if Papa failed to remarry and bear a male heir. Of course. And her dowry would be – Alicia’s jaw dropped. Eight thousand pounds? No wonder Louis was so eager to have her! If the ton gentlemen had known Papa wanted to be dispose of her that badly, she’d have drowned in a sea of marriage offers, past scandals or not. Unbelievable.
Hands shaking, Alicia returned to the desk and replaced the paper in its spot. Rage coursed through her veins. She wasn’t sure if she were angrier that her ignorance had cost her the opportunity to find an alternate suitor earlier, or if her fists jerked to her sides because Papa was selling her off with such an exorbitant sum in a blatant attempt to rid himself of her as fast as possible.
She stared at the unopened desk drawers and forced her nerves to settle. There was no way she could search anymore tonight in a calm manner.
Alicia walked back to the window and gazed out at the lawn, black with shifting shadows. She might not even be able to face her father tomorrow without betraying her emotion on her face. She certainly couldn’t mention the matter to him. Besides the obvious fact that she ought not have been rifling through his papers in the first place, he would just remind her that this was how things were done, and she should be happy he offered Louis a dowry at all.
If only she’d known about the size of the dowry sooner! Of course, Alicia admitted to herself, she would not have been able to bring up such a vulgar subject in conversation with anyone, much less as a public gambit to attract suitors. She sighed. Why couldn’t she attract men on her own right, without attaching gratuitous perquisites to the package? Well, she had attracted one mysterious suitor, of course, although he was the least liable to solve any of her problems.
Alicia turned from the window and jumped.
Rogue filled the doorway as if she’d conjured him with the power of her mind. He relaxed against the doorframe, muscles filling out every inch of his black-on-black garb, one booted leg crossed in front of the other. His arms were behind his back, as if he brought another rose, this time careful to hold it rather than chew it.
Alicia’s mood lifted. She found herself smiling, and took a step closer.
“More flowers?” she asked.
Rogue shook his head.
She took another step forward and stopped. “Something for me?” she asked, a little embarrassed by her earlier presumption.
He grinned and nodded.
She inched closer until she stood a mere foot from him. “Must I continue guessing?”
Rogue
brought his ungloved hands from behind his back and laid one over the other. He opened his closed fist. Something small caught a glint of moonlight and glinted in the darkness. Alicia reached out with one hand. Her fingertips brushed a delicate chain. She lifted it slowly, discovering a necklace with a heart-shaped charm. She brought her other hand to her chest, amazed by his sweetness.
“The pendant is a locket,” Rogue said, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
Alicia cupped the dangling heart in one hand and worked the tiny clasp with the other.
“It’s…” The locket sprang open. “Empty?”
“Of course it’s blank,” Rogue answered in solemn tones. “Love is a mystery.”
She grinned.
“I couldn’t very well enclose our miniatures, could I?” he teased. “A black mask on one side, a big bonnet on the other?”
Alicia chuckled. “It’s perfect. And… it won’t get soggy, should one of us have unwisely decided to place it in his mouth.”
“Just so. May I further suggest your neck as the ideal locale, my lady?” he asked, straightening from the doorjamb. He held out his hand. “May I?”
She nodded and placed the necklace back in his hand. She turned around, presenting him with her back, and gathered her hair to the back of her cap with both hands. She waited.
An anticipatory shiver skittered down her spine as Rogue stepped closer, sliding his hands past her neck until they met in front of her face. He leaned forward, his cheek against the back of one of her trembling hands, as he captured each end of the necklace between his fingertips. His head lifted and he drew his hands towards himself until the necklace draped around her neck.
His fingers brushed against her as he closed the clasp and let go. The necklace fell against her neck and the cold metal of the pendant skidded down her skin as it sank into her bodice just above her breasts.
Alicia didn’t release her hair. Rogue’s fingers were softly stroking the warm flesh on the back of her neck. His hands slid to her shoulders. He leaned forward, allowing his cheek to rest against her fingers.