Rough Gentleman

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Rough Gentleman Page 5

by Maggie Carpenter


  “Apparently something rather important.”

  “It is—dreadfully.”

  “Why don’t we sit on the couch by the fire?”

  Her pulse racing, she searched for the right words as they moved across the room.

  “Malcolm, please understand,” she began, sitting down and looking at him with wide eyes, “I would like nothing better than to remain here. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the offer.”

  “I’m hearing a but coming,” he said gravely.

  “Yes, I’m afraid there is. You see, I cannot be your guest without telling you why you found me in such a terrible state. My filthy dress and battered shoes, not to mention the wallets I had hidden in my coat. The thing is,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “being here puts you at risk. I’m not sure how to say this, but, uh...”

  “Connie, let me make this easy for you,” he said softly, taking her hand. “I know who you are.”

  “You do?” she gasped, staring at him in disbelief.

  “Constance Clifford. The only daughter of Baron Clifford of Cloverdale.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed, fighting a wave of emotion and gripping his fingers. “Then you know I’m a fugitive. You know I’m accused of something absolutely horrible, but I didn’t do it, Malcolm. I swear I didn’t.”

  “You poor girl. Of course you didn’t. I don’t think that for a moment. I never did.”

  “You believe me?” she asked frantically. “You truly believe me?”

  “But of course. How anyone could think otherwise is beyond me. How long has it been since your parents were murdered? Three months? It seems like yesterday.”

  “I’ve lost track of time,” she said woefully. “The days all run together. Three months, four months. Less. More. I don’t know.”

  “Will you tell me what happened? Do you want to?”

  “Very much, oh, yes, very much,” she sniffled, the tears getting the better of her. “It was terrifying, and... and... I want you to know everything, but I still don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me, and why you think I’m innocent?” she blubbered. “Didn’t you hear? I’m an insane murderess. Everyone believes it. Why don’t you?”

  * * *

  As she crumpled into sobs, Malcolm threw propriety aside and wrapped her into his arms.

  “It’s all right, Connie,” he murmured, feeling his heart break. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll take care of you.”

  “But everyone else thinks the worst of me?”

  “I told you, I have a nose,” he said, retrieving his handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her. “Take a breath and listen to me. You don’t have to leave. In fact, I insist that you stay.”

  “You’re too good to be true,” she whimpered, staring up at him as she wiped her face. “How is this possible?”

  “I promise I’ll do all I can to make this right. It might take time, and I’ll have to be very careful—we both will—but we’ll get there in the end. I told you, I’m the son of a groundskeeper. I may seem like a gentleman, but I’m as tough as nails when it’s needed. If anyone bursts in here and tries to do you harm, they’ll come out of it the worse for wear, believe me.”

  “You really want to help?”

  “Look at me,” he said firmly, cupping her face with his hands. “I do, and I promise you I won’t rest until your name is cleared and I uncover the culprit.”

  As the words spilled from his lips he knew them to be true, then suddenly, gazing into her deep green eyes, he felt a tug deep inside his soul.

  “Malcolm...”

  Her voice had been a whisper.

  She’d felt it too.

  “For so long I have hoped and dreamed of a savior.”

  “Now you have one. Fate has brought us together.”

  “Amazingly, incredibly, I believe it has.”

  Though he had an overwhelming desire to plant his lips on her in a loving, passionate kiss, he caught himself. But he knew it would happen, and soon. A need for her had risen up through his being, one that would not be denied.

  “Connie, the rumor was you’d somehow boarded a ship for parts unknown, though with every policeman in London looking for you I found that hard to believe. They would surely have covered the docks. Did you try? Is that how the rumor began?”

  “If I’d been able to I would have, but I had very little money and no clothes, only this same dress and my coat, so no, I didn’t. I steered clear of anywhere they might be watching.”

  “It’s extraordinary you’ve managed to survive, and even more extraordinary you were never caught.”

  “It hasn’t been easy. Some days I wanted to give up, then I’d hold the bracelet against my heart and it gave me strength. My mother gave it to me. It was her mother’s, and my great grandmother’s before that.”

  “My goodness. No wonder it’s so precious to you.”

  “I swear it has magic powers. Every time I’d think there was nowhere to sleep or I’d find nothing to eat, I’d hold it tightly and ask for help, and a small miracle would happen.”

  “Like when I showed up during your struggle with Lord Cavendish.”

  “Yes, like that, though at the time I didn’t know you were a miracle. I do now.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t recognize you. Mind you, I didn’t either.”

  “But Malcolm, I think he did. I think that’s why he came back with the constable.”

  “Ah, you could be right,” Malcolm murmured thoughtfully. “It was a bit strange how he showed up like he did, but, Connie, can you tell me what happened that night, and why were you accused?”

  “Quite honestly, I’m not sure how or why the blame was put on my shoulders,” she replied solemnly. “That night everyone took care of me. The police were kind, Stanford, our butler was wonderful, then suddenly, the next day, everything changed.”

  “I think you’d better tell me what happened from the beginning. Can you do that?”

  “I certainly can. The horrible moment plays in my mind over and over again,” she whimpered, anxiously fidgeting with the handkerchief.

  “I’m sure it does. Connie, I want and need to know, but if it’s too soon for you to talk about, I understand.”

  “It’s not too soon. I’ve been waiting a long time to share it with someone who wants to help, though I was beginning to think that would never happen.”

  “But it has,” he said reassuringly. “The papers said the murder took place in the middle of the night. Is that true?”

  “Yes, it is, and I still don’t know what woke me, but when I looked at the clock it was almost midnight. I couldn’t go back to sleep. Whenever that would happen I’d go down to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of milk, then add a little bit of brandy. That’s what I decided to do. I’d reached the bottom of the stairs when I heard the voices.”

  “They were loud?”

  “Oh, yes. I stopped, and heard them again. They were coming from the end of the hall. Looking back I don’t know why I didn’t raise the alarm. You can’t imagine how often I’ve wished I had.”

  She paused to take a breath.

  “Take your time. There’s no rush.”

  “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

  “I’m sure this is very difficult.”

  “Knowing you believe me makes it so much easier, and talking about it... yes, it’s painful... but such a relief. So, uh, anyway, I started down the hall and found the argument was coming from the drawing room. That’s when my heart started to race.”

  “I’m sure it did.”

  “I stood outside for a minute, not even that long, then my mother screamed. Malcolm, it was horrible. A terrible chill shivered through my whole body. Suddenly I was rushing in... and... and... my father,” she whispered, “he was on the floor not moving. There was a man there, and he struck my mother on the side of the head with a shovel. She fell, and he hit her again. I couldn’t move. I was frozen, completely frozen.”

  “My poo
r, poor girl,” Malcolm murmured, holding her tightly. “I cannot believe you suffered through something so dreadful.”

  “The French doors were open. I suppose that’s how he got in, but my parents were still dressed, and it was late. None of it made any sense.”

  “They must have been expecting him. Did he see you? More to the point, did you see him?”

  “I did, Malcolm, but only for a second. He came toward me with the shovel in the air, like he was going to kill me too, but he suddenly dropped it and darted out the door into the garden. I ran over to my mother, there was blood everywhere, and I started shrieking and calling for help,” she said, copious tears cascading down her face. “I yelled and yelled. I couldn’t stop. Stanford finally came in and pulled me away, then I fainted.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Malcolm said grimly.

  “I woke up on the couch in the salon, but someone, I’m not sure who, carried me up to my room and kept asking me why I’d done it. The following morning a doctor came by and left some pills, but I tossed them out the window. Shortly after that Susan came in and told me she’d overheard the police talking with my Uncle Matthew. He and a detective decided I had killed my parents, but my uncle was making an agreement with them to put me in one of those institutions for the insane.”

  “Connie, I simply cannot believe this. Why did no one come to your defense?”

  “Aunt Jane, my mother’s sister, she was there briefly and extremely kind, but the detective told her she had to leave. She was very upset about it all.”

  “This is abominable.”

  “Anyway, when Susan told me what she’d overheard, I was sure if I didn’t get out at that very moment I’d be put in one of those places and never be seen again. I grabbed my coat and the little bit of money I had in my dresser, and Susan helped me creep down the servants’ stairs. Malcolm, I was so scared I was shaking. I managed to climb over the wall into the neighbor’s yard, then I just kept walking with my head down. I walked and walked and walked with no idea where I was going. Those first few days were terrifying. There was this woman, she was so kind to me. I don’t think I would have survived if I hadn’t met her.”

  “I’m speechless,” Malcolm muttered. “It’s early, but I think you need a sip of cognac.”

  “I’d appreciate that very much,” she whimpered, wiping her face and blowing her nose. “I haven’t talked about any of this to anyone. Who would I dare tell? Though there was a priest once. I’d taken shelter in a church and I almost told him, but I was too scared.”

  “I cannot understand why the police would jump to such a ridiculous conclusion, and why on earth didn’t your uncle believe you?” he asked, rising to his feet and stepping to the drinks cabinet.

  “My father and Uncle Matthew didn’t get along, and he was always cold toward my mother and me. Mother said he was jealous because my father was the oldest son and had inherited the title and estate. Even though Uncle Matthew was rich, Mother said there wasn’t enough money in the world to make him happy.”

  Pouring a splash of liquor into a glass, Malcolm returned and sat back down.

  “Drink this and catch your breath,” he said, handing it to her, “then tell me why you’ve been stealing wallets.”

  “I almost forgot, and it’s awfully important. A little while ago I was petting a horse parked in an alley. I spent a great deal of time in alleys. Anyway, the owner came out, a jolly man who was a little bit drunk, and he said his horse’s name was Monty. That’s when I suddenly remembered!”

  “Remembered what?” Malcolm asked urgently.

  “That night, just before I went into the drawing room, I heard my father say, turn yourself in, Monty. I stopped to listen, but a few seconds later my mother screamed.”

  “The murderer’s name is Monty!” Malcolm exclaimed.

  “I’d completely forgotten until the man in the alley said it. I have to assume it was short for Montgomery, or possibly Montague. The only way I could think of to find him—”

  “Was to lift the wallets of every gentleman who crossed your path!” Malcolm finished. “Thank heavens you didn’t run across him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Connie, don’t you see? The police might be looking for you, but this Monty person will be too, and if he finds you first you won’t live to tell the tale!”

  Chapter Six

  He saw the fright in Connie’s eyes, then a frown creased her brow.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she muttered. “Why didn’t I realize that?”

  “You were desperate. You weren’t thinking clearly, but tell me, did you have a plan in mind if you found him?”

  “I did, though it probably wasn’t a very good one. It occurred to me he must have some awful secret. I was—and still am—determined to find out what it is.”

  “From what you overheard that must be true. He’s hiding something so villainous he had to kill to make sure it didn’t get out.”

  “Exactly, and a man’s wallet usually carries an identification card. I have a general recollection of him being on the tall side, so my plan was, once I found a man with the right name and height, I’d start watching his house and following him.”

  “Not the smartest idea I’ve ever heard,” Malcolm remarked, “but not terrible either, as long as someone else did the following and the watching. He would spot you in a heartbeat.”

  “Probably, but I felt so useless I had to do something.”

  “Of course you did, and thank the good Lord he didn’t find you, but whoever this fellow is, he obviously knew your parents. I don’t socialize as much as I should, but I must have some mutual acquaintances with your family. I can accept some invitations. If I keep my ears open it’s likely I’ll run across a few Montagues and Montgomerys.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re bound to,” Connie said excitedly. “Do you think there’s any way I could go with you? I could disguise myself.”

  “That’s out of the question. I’d never allow you to do something so risky.”

  “Perhaps if I—”

  “No!” he said sternly. “Connie, if I’m going to find this dreadful man and keep you out of harm’s way, you must promise to do as I ask. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Malcolm, if you say so, though I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs.”

  “You are not to do anything or go anywhere without talking to me first. Promise me.”

  “I promise, and I know I have to be careful. I’ve been nothing but careful for ages, but I can’t stay locked in this house forever.”

  “No, and you won’t,” he said, then lowering his voice and looking at her intently, he added, “but when you finally do walk out the front door, it will be with your head held high.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. Now I must ask, what happened to the family home? Isn’t it fairly close to here?”

  “It’s not far. Uh, actually, when I decided to try to find Monty I went back there. I realized he wasn’t likely to come strolling into the poor neighborhood where I was hiding. I didn’t know what had become of the house, but I was hoping it would still be empty and I’d be able to get inside. Sadly the windows on the bottom floor have been boarded up, though in one of them there’s a For Sale sign. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to buy a property where something so awful happened.”

  “So, let me understand this. You came back to this neighborhood to find Monty, but you were unable to get into your home for shelter.”

  “That’s right, though it might be a blessing in disguise. I’m not sure how I’ll feel if I’m ever there again.”

  “So... where have you been staying?”

  “The shed where the gardener used to kept his tools, but they’re all gone.”

  “Weren’t you afraid of being seen?”

  “Very afraid!” she said vehemently. “I waited until the middle of the night and managed to slip into the neighbor’s yard—they have a back gate—then I climbed over the wall. Fortunatel
y it’s not very high. When I couldn’t get into the house I checked the shed. I was so happy when I found it unlocked. It even had some packing blankets and a lantern, but I couldn’t risk using it in case the neighbors saw the light. I’ve been hiding there for a while now. I’ve had a little help from the butler next door. His name is Kendrick. He’s such a nice man. He saw me one night and started leaving food in there for me.”

  “What a good chap, and what a clever girl you are.”

  “I creep out very early and go back late. So far I’ve been able to get my hands on eight wallets, but none of them were owned by a man named Montague or Montgomery. I was also been wondering if there’s something in my father’s office that would give me a clue, but as I just told you, I can’t get inside.”

  “Ah, but I can,” Malcolm said with a grin.

  “You can? How?”

  “I’ll contact the selling agent and tell him I’m interested.”

  “Of course!”

  “I’d like you to come with me. You’ll know where everything is. We need to figure out how to do that, but I’m sure we’ll come up with something. Where is it?”

  She had just finished reciting the address and detailing the directions, when there was a tap on the door.

  “Come in.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Corbin said, stepping into the room. “Lady Edith is here. She’s in the drawing room.”

  “Ah, excellent. Tell her I’ll only be a moment.”

  “Yes, sir. She has several boxes. Where would you like them taken?”

  “The Red Room. I told Mrs. Melville.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “I’m sorry, Malcolm, but I’m suddenly scared,” Connie exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I should have thought this through when you told me about this friend of yours at breakfast. I’ve let my guard down,” she muttered under her breath. “Oh, dear, this is dreadful. She may have already mentioned me to someone!”

  “Connie, stop panicking. I didn’t tell her—”

  Before he could finish she started for the door, but striding after her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  “Connie, calm down!”

 

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