“Not permanently. The Hendersons, a couple who live in the nearby village, visit the house twice a week. The husband helps with the back gardens, and his wife keeps my apartment dusted and clean. When I travel there by myself I only take Baker. He doubles as my butler as well as my valet, and Mrs. Henderson comes every day and prepares my meals, but if I’m entertaining, I close this London house and my full staff comes with me.”
“The thought of being in the peace and quiet of the countryside almost brings tears to my eyes.”
“I’m sure it will be a great relief for you. Make a list of the things you need after dinner tonight, and Mrs. Melville can shop in the morning. If I wasn’t attending a dinner party with Edith tomorrow night we could take the early evening train, but I can use the social event to our advantage. It will be interesting to see if I’m questioned.”
“I wish I could be a fly on the wall, but I’m just thrilled to be leaving the city for a few days.”
“There’s still the matter of the statue. I’ll take it with us of course, but I certainly can’t leave it down there. I need to find a suitable hiding place in this house. A safe place to put it when we return.”
“I told you. I know exactly what to do. It’s simple.”
It only took her a minute to explain her idea, and when she finished he broke into a broad smile.
“You are much too clever. I’ll have Mrs. Melville pick up what we need tomorrow.”
Chapter Fifteen
Malcolm stared in the mirror as Baker stood behind him brushing off the last vestiges of lint from his jacket. Though he appeared to be studying his reflection, Malcolm was deep in thought pondering the notable events of the previous evening and earlier in the day.
Following dinner the night before, he had retired to the library while Connie had met with Mrs. Melville in the drawing room to write up the shopping list. When they had completed the task, Connie stopped by the library to say goodnight. Without warning Malcolm had gripped her hair, crushed her lips in an all-consuming, passionate kiss, then handed her the book.
“Read this before you go to sleep,” he’d whispered, moving his lips to her ear, “and think of me.”
She’d gazed up at him with hunger and happiness, then staring at the book, let out a gasp.
“A Pirate’s Pleasure,” she’d whispered, a warm blush crossing her face. “I shall never want to close my eyes.”
“But you will, and when you do you will dream wicked dreams of us, but Connie, no touching yourself. I’m your pirate, and I forbid it. That pleasure belongs strictly to me.”
With a polite but stammered, “Yes, Sir,” she’d kissed him quickly, then hurried out the door.
Before she’d arrived stopped in to say goodnight, Malcolm had been researching Samuel Mountbatten in Burke’s Peerage, the prestigious reference book detailing the families of the aristocracy. Returning to his work, he discovered the Mountbattens were noble indeed. Samuel would have powerful friends. If he was involved in the disappearance of the statue and the murder of Connie’s parents, he was not an enemy to be taken lightly.
Malcolm had learned some men wore money, power, and position well, while others became consumed by it. The latter were arrogant, greedy, and lived with the belief they could do what they pleased and remain untouchable. Such men were capable of killing, then allowing the blame to fall on the shoulders of another—even an innocent young woman—without a pang of conscience.
Was Samuel Mountbatten one of them?
Closing the book, Malcolm poured himself a cognac, settled by the fire, and allowed himself to fall under the hypnotic spell of the flickering flames.
He had to uncover the villain’s identity, then lure the murderer himself into a trap, not one of his henchman. As the cognac and the fire worked their magic, he fell into a light doze, finally retiring to bed knowing a scheme would eventually reveal itself.
It always did.
He’d woken feeling refreshed and ready to tackle whatever challenges lie ahead, but the incident that happened after lunch proved to be both alarming and unexpected.
Mrs. Melville had returned from shopping late morning. Following the midday meal, Connie had adjourned to her bedroom to try on her new clothes. The housekeeper had joined her, eager to help. Waiting until they had disappeared up the stairs, Malcolm had left the house on a mission.
Striding down the street, he’d made his way to Connie’s former home, paying no attention to the man he sensed following him. Knocking on the neighbor’s door, Kendrick had answered, and been delighted to open up the house a second time.
“Thank you, Kendrick,” Malcolm said as they walked into the foyer. “I understand the area behind the garden wall also belongs to the house.”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“But there’s no gate.”
“No, sir. I believe it was removed for security reasons,” Kendrick replied, then solemnly added, “His lordship was extremely protective of his wife and daughter.”
Malcolm had paused. Kendrick’s loyalty to the Clifford family could well prove useful as things developed.
“What happened was such a tragedy,” Malcolm said gravely.
“Indeed, sir,” the butler murmured. “A tragedy that remains a mystery.”
“A mystery?”
“Forgive me,” Kendrick said hastily. “I spoke my thoughts by mistake.”
“Please, don’t apologize, Kendrick. I quite agree. I know Constance was accused and consequently disappeared, but how could a young woman possibly wield a heavy shovel? Even if she’d been able to, surely one of her parents would have been able to wrestle it away from her.”
“Thank you, sir!” Kendrick said emphatically. “These are the questions that continue to plague me. I told the police the young woman and her parents were very close, but I’m afraid my words fell on deaf ears.”
“The law can make mistakes, but sometimes, Kendrick,” Malcolm said, lowering his voice, “if the planets align, those mistakes can be righted.”
“I pray for such a miracle every day, but forgive me, I must return to my household. Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No, and thank you for your frankness and your time. I’d like to see the area behind the wall, so don’t be alarmed if you see me climb over it.”
The butler looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“I’m a groundskeeper’s son,” Malcolm replied with a grin. “Jumping over fences is in my blood.”
“Ah, I see,” Kendrick said with a nod, his solemn face breaking into a smile. “Well, then, you’ll find a path back there that leads to the street. You can walk around if you care to.”
“Thank you, Kendrick. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
“I hope so, sir.”
The moment Kendrick had left, Malcolm climbed the stairs and hurried to the rooms overlooking the front yard. Remaining hidden behind the drapes, he’d studied the street below. Hackworth’s frame had been easy to spot. The stout man stood behind a tree peering around the trunk watching the house.
Hurrying back down the stairs, Malcolm had made his way through the hall, out the French doors to the yard, and climbed over the wall. It offered no difficulty, and following the path to the street, he’d covertly positioned himself behind the uncouth private detective.
Malcolm could be a patient man, and he had all afternoon.
Hackworth soon began to pace and check his watch. An hour ticked by before he threw up his hands, strode across the street, and walked up to the front door. He was knocking loudly when Kendrick appeared. Though Malcolm was too far away to hear the conversation, he chuckled as Kendrick waved his arm in a gesture that clearly told Hackworth to leave the property.
The follower then became the followed.
Keeping a safe distance, Malcolm had tracked Hackworth to a large, elegant house. The detective had marched up the steps, but as Malcolm had memorized the address and was about to leave, the door had opened, and a young man wearing an angry scowl marched out.
He’d paused for a moment, engaged Hackworth in a brief, but animated conversation, before striding off down the street. Malcolm had returned home and asked Corbin to join him in the library for a private word.
“How can I be of service, sir?”
“By any chance do you know who lives at 42 Belgrave Square?”
“Ah, yes, sir. I believe that’s the address I noted on the envelopes you received from the Earl of Landenbury, Lord Mountbatten.”
Though Malcolm had been optimistic when he’d left on his mission, he’d never expected to return knowing the identity of the man he could safely assume had killed Connie’s parents.
Now standing in front of the mirror and about to attend a dinner party with Edith, Malcolm remained deep in thought.
“Sir? Are you all right?”
Baker’s voice broke into his deep reverie.
“Sorry, Baker, did you say something?”
“Yes, sir. I just asked if you needed anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Malcolm replied solemnly. “How long have you worked for me, Baker?”
“Going on five years, sir, and very happy ones at that.”
“You know I was planning to leave on the late afternoon train for the country tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want to catch the earlier one at ten-thirty in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure everything is ready, sir.”
“You also know there’s a young woman staying here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She’s in a spot of bother. There are some unkind people trying to find her. I’m watching out for her, and I’m determined to get the whole sorry mess sorted out.”
“That’s very good of you, sir.”
“Thank you. The thing is, Baker, I’m worried she might be spotted when we leave, so I’ve suggested she dress in a maid’s uniform and travel in the carriage with you and Mrs. Melville on the way to the station, then the third-class train compartment for the journey.”
“That’s a clever idea, sir. I’ll watch out for her. You can depend on me.”
“Thank you, Baker. Her name is Connie.”
“Very good, sir. Oh, sir, given what you’ve just said...”
“Yes, Baker?” Malcolm asked, seeing a sudden flash of worry cross his valet’s face. “What is it?”
“A few minutes before I came up, the kitchen mentioned there was a man loitering near the servants’ entrance.”
“Did she get a good look at him?” Malcolm asked briskly. “Did she mention what he was wearing?”
“She didn’t give any details. She’d taken some rubbish out, and when she came back inside, she said there was a man leaning against the wall. I have to say, she did seem a bit shaken up.”
“Please go downstairs at once and gather everyone together in the servants’ dining room. I wish to speak with them, and Baker, thank you for mentioning this. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leaving his dressing room, Malcolm moved quickly down the hall and knocked on Connie’s door. Though they’d spent the afternoon together making sure the statue was well-hidden, he hadn’t told her what he’d learned about Samuel Mountbatten. Giving her the news would be a profound moment, and the quiet of the country would be the best place for her to hear it.
“Come in,” she called. “Malcolm, you look so handsome,” she exclaimed, walking over to greet him. “I wish I was going with you.”
“We will be attending parties together very soon.”
“You sound so confident,” she said as he hugged her. “I wish I could be.”
“Trust me when I tell you this,” he murmured, holding her tightly. “The guilty party will soon be found, and you’ll have your life back. Then we’ll go to as many parties as you want, and everyone will have to eat crow!”
“Thank you for giving me hope,” she said gratefully, pulling back and staring into his warm brown eyes. “You’re the most amazing man ever.”
“I’m not sure about that, but I am sure if you hold on to that hope, it will give you the strength to battle on.”
“I believe you. It’s what I lived on for many dreadful months. I refused to give up.”
“Connie, from the moment I pulled you away from Cavendish, I had the strongest feeling our paths were meant to cross. Now I truly believe it.”
“I do too, Malcolm.”
“I have to go, but before I do, I’ve decided we should leave in the morning, not late afternoon.”
“That’s even better!”
“I agree. In the meantime you must stay away from the windows. Baker just told me a man was lingering around the servants’ entrance.”
“Oh, no! Do you think it was that chap pretending to be a police detective?”
“Probably, or someone equally despicable. Regardless, you must be invisible until we leave. The last thing we need is someone seeing you and reporting it to the police.”
“I’ll make sure to steer clear. Uh—Malcolm, will you come and see me when you get back?”
“It will probably be late.”
“I don’t care. Promise me.”
“Such a demanding young lady,” he said with a grin.
“Promise me. No matter the hour, I want to see you.”
“Very well, I promise. Now I really must go.”
“Bye. Have fun, but not too much.”
Giving her a soft kiss, then shooting her a wink as he left the room, he hurried down to the foyer. Pushing open what appeared to be a panel in the wall, he trotted down the stairs leading to the servants’ quarters, and found the staff gathered around the dining table.
“I’ll make this quick,” he said formally, turning his eyes to the young kitchen maid. “Holly, I understand there was a man outside when you took out the rubbish.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered nervously.
“Did he speak to you?”
“Uh, no, sir. He just stared at me.”
“Has anyone else here seen a stranger lingering near the back?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Corbin has told you I have a guest, and her stay here must be kept strictly confidential. I cannot stress how important this is. If anyone should ask any questions about this house, and I mean anyone, stranger or friend, you will offer nothing. Not a single word. Have I made myself clear?”
The servants said yes in unison, earnestly nodding their heads.
“Tomorrow morning I’ll be leaving for the country. Baker and Mrs. Melville will be joining me.”
“We’re leaving earlier than planned?” Mrs. Melville asked.
“Yes, I just made the decision a few minutes ago. You’ll need to be ready to leave by ten a.m. We’ll be catching the 10:30 train.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Corbin, I want you to stay here. I’ll rest easy knowing the house will be in good hands. You can send me a telegram if anything should arise.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I wish to thank each and every one of you for your loyalty. It will not go unrewarded. Now I must say goodnight.”
“I believe your carriage will be waiting for you by now, sir,” Corbin said, catching up as Malcolm briskly climbed the stairs. “I trust everything is in order?”
“In order,” Malcolm repeated under his breath. “I would say things are moving in the right direction.”
“Good to hear, sir,” Corbin declared as he collected Malcolm’s coat from the hall closet. “I hope you enjoy your evening. Please give Lady Edith my best regards.”
“Thank you, I will. Make sure Mrs. Melville has that maid’s uniform sorted out for Connie’s departure. I don’t want any last-minute hiccups.”
“Of course, sir,” Corbin replied, opening the door.
Though the day had seen the sun, as Malcolm walked outside a cold breeze swirled around him. He paused, sensing rain in the air. Fall had arrived. He welcomed the change.
Climbing into the carriage, he focused on the night ahead. Knowing Samuel Mountbatten was the man nicknamed Monty, Malcolm’s plans for the evening had changed. He would be giving Edith a different task, one at which she would excel, and he couldn’t wait to see her in action.
Chapter Sixteen
Malcolm could see the incredulity in Edith’s eyes. She couldn’t believe the Earl of Landenbury was the evil monster who had killed Connie’s parents, then made sure the blame fell on her shoulders. Though Malcolm had solemnly delivered the startling news, he hadn’t told Edith the statue was in his possession. The information was too heavy a burden, and too dangerous.
“Are you sure?” Edith asked breathlessly. “I’ve known that man my entire life, and he doesn’t seem capable of doing something so horrible.”
“I’m as sure as I can be. You must remember, Edith, many people live their lives behind a facade,” Malcolm remarked as the carriage made its way through the elite neighborhood. “It’s rare to know the true nature of a person.”
“But why would he take such a huge risk?”
“There’s more to the story, but I don’t have time to tell you, and perhaps he didn’t see it as a risk. Think about it. Any detective with common sense must have known a young woman would be incapable of brandishing a shovel and killing both her parents, yet the blame was placed squarely on Connie’s shoulders and it stuck. She was about to be locked away as an insane hysteric. The earl is a powerful man with powerful friends.”
“This is so scary,” Edith murmured, shaking her head. “What happens now? How will you prove any of this?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I have a few ideas.”
“What about tonight? Since you’ve found out who Monty is, why are you still coming to the party?”
“I was about to tell you,” he said, retrieving a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handing it to her. “Those are some of the members of the Egyptian Historical Society. Do you know any of them? Do you think any of them will be there?”
“Why do you want to know about people interested in Egyptology?”
“As I said, I don’t have time to go into the details right now, but do you?”
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