How to Entice an Earl

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How to Entice an Earl Page 24

by Manda Collins


  “Any of them would,” Leighton said with a nod. “Whoever Fielding’s avenger is blames all of them—Tinker, Tretham, and Linton—equally. And perhaps killed Tinker first as a warning to the other two.”

  “It makes sense,” Christian said. “I just wish we’d known about the threats against Linton and Tretham sooner. We might have connected this business to Fielding’s death and avoided a lot of false trails.”

  Leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, he asked, “What do we do now that Linton is missing again? Do Gunning and Hedley have any notion of which direction he might have been headed? Or who might be responsible for the fire? Was anyone seen in the village who might have set it?”

  “They set out in different directions as soon as they informed me he was gone,” Leighton said reassuringly. “The lodge itself isn’t terribly far from the Great North Road, so he might be headed north or to the coast.”

  “He might be headed anywhere, then,” Christian said with frustration. He knew as well as anyone that unless they had some sort of information about where Linton might have gone, he could disappear quite easily. The only thing working in their favor was that Linton did not have military experience, and so was unlikely to think as strategically as he might have done otherwise.

  “Indeed,” Leighton agreed, drinking up the dregs of his coffee. “Which is why I knew I had to inform you as quickly as possible. My thanks for your agreement to meet me. I know it might not have been altogether agreeable for your new wife to let you go so soon.”

  Christian didn’t disagree with the other man, though Maddie had been fast asleep when he left her that morning. “You’ll let me know when you hear from your men.”

  The other man nodded, rising. “I’ll send for you as soon as I know something.”

  Watching the older man stride away, Christian cursed inwardly at the situation. He did not relish telling Maddie that her brother was missing. Again.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, old fellow,” Winterson interrupted, taking the seat that Leighton had just vacated, “but you are allowed to sleep in on the day after your wedding. In fact, it’s sort of de rigueur. Like breeches at Almack’s and cant at Jackson’s.”

  “Linton has flown the coop,” Christian said curtly.

  Winterson whistled. “Damnation. When you have problems, you have problems.”

  Christian nodded. “I’m at an impasse,” he said, after explaining the particulars of his brother-in-law’s disappearance from the hunting lodge. “I cannot simply leave town and go off in search of Linton. I just married Maddie yesterday, for God’s sake. She is a reasonable woman, but no woman is that reasonable. Even if it is her own brother.”

  He did not add that he knew without a doubt that she would insist upon accompanying him. A possibility that filled him with dread.

  “And you would need to tell her how you know her brother is missing. That her brother was being watched by men from Whitehall who were not quite sure if he was a traitor to the crown or not. Which could lead to some marital tension, I would guess,” Winterson said, pouring himself some coffee from the nearly empty pot.

  “We did not really think him a traitor,” Christian said, knowing he was splitting hairs. “It was more that we hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he knew of Tinker’s involvement with the Bonapartists. It’s a fine distinction, but it’s there. We were protecting him, for God’s sake.”

  “Yes, and you see how well that’s worked out,” Winterson said, brows raised. Then, not unkindly, he said, “She doesn’t need to know everything, you know. After all, you are her husband, and are under no particular requirement to tell her about every aspect of your work for the government. In fact, you could say that you were not allowed to tell her. Which is true enough.”

  “Are you familiar with my new wife, Winterson?” Christian demanded. “For that matter, have you met your own wife? Neither of them would take kindly to being deceived. Even if it meant the choice between duty to one’s country and duty to one’s wife.”

  Winterson sighed. “You are correct, of course. They are a headstrong pair, our wives. So what do you mean to do about it? If you cannot go haring across the country in search of your brother-in-law, then there must be some way to find him.”

  “I suppose I will wait a couple of days to see if he doesn’t turn up in town,” Christian said glumly. “He does seem to have a remarkable way of landing on his feet. So I shall tell my wife, despite the danger to my person such a confession will engender.”

  “I cannot say that I would wish to trade places with you for that conversation,” Winterson said. “Come on, then, I’ve got an idea of where we might find your little termagant. And if you’re going to tell her, you may as well get it over with.”

  Following Winterson out of White’s, Christian settled his hat upon his head, took up his walking stick, and prepared himself to break the news of her brother’s disappearance to his new wife.

  * * *

  “And then what did you say?” Juliet asked, her eyes wide as she reached for another tea cake.

  The three cousins were ensconced in Cecily’s private sitting room, conversing over yet another tea tray, though Juliet had argued strenuously for something a bit stronger. That notion had been vetoed by Cecily who said that they needed their wits about them if they were to find some solution to Maddie’s latest trouble.

  “I told her that I would forward her note to James and that he could decide whether or not to return to London,” Maddie said, rubbing a finger over her brow. “I must say, she took it rather well. Though I don’t suppose she had much choice. What was she to do? Break a teacup and threaten me with the broken crockery? It just troubles me to know that my brother would behave in such a ramshackle fashion. Though I suppose he did leave town for his own safety.”

  “I know that you are worried for your brother,” Cecily said, “but perhaps he really has some affection for Lady Emily and left town, and her, reluctantly.”

  “You are certainly looking at the situation with a romantic eye, Cecily,” Juliet said with a frown. “I know none of us wishes to think of Linton in this way, but it is quite possible that he was simply doing what gentlemen do…” She paused, blushing a bit. “What I mean to say is that perhaps he was simply having an affair without any thought to the possible consequences.”

  “But Lady Emily said that he wished to marry her,” Maddie said, setting her teacup down. “I do not believe he trifled with her affections. He is not always the most circumspect of men, but my brother is a gentleman after all.”

  Her cousins nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure they agreed with her. It was so difficult to tell sometimes. Still, she was glad to have talked the matter over with them. When Lady Emily had left, her first thought had been to send for Christian, but she refused to become one of those wives who could not make the slightest decision without consulting her lord and master.

  Reminded of her new bridegroom, she said, “I am afraid that the news came as a shock to me, in part because of my own situation.”

  “What do you mean, dearest?” Juliet asked, grabbing her cousin’s hand.

  “Never say you married Monteith because you are enceinte,” Cecily said, her mouth slightly agape. “I would never have—”

  “No!” Maddie interrupted. “Not at all. It’s just that after last night’s … er … activities”—she did not meet her cousins’ eyes and knew without consulting a glass that she was blushing furiously—“I cannot help but think that it takes quite a bit of … trust … to indulge in such intimacies. And I cannot think that Lady Emily, or my brother, would do so without some degree of care for the other person.”

  “Winterson says that men are much different about such things than we are,” Cecily said with a matter-of-fact tone. “They see it as a sort of physical release. Like fisticuffs or a vigorous gallop in the park.”

  “Good God,” Maddie said, “so ladies are no more important to gentlemen than their horses?” />
  “I know quite a few gentlemen who think rather more highly of their horses than they do of any ladies of their acquaintance,” Juliet quipped. “George Vinson, for instance.”

  The three ladies laughed, but then Cecily continued, “It is not so much that they see ladies as less important. It simply depends upon the lady. And it is simply not as … risky for men to indulge themselves in carnal acts. After all, they cannot become with child, and if they are well informed, they have ways of preventing disease.”

  “It is true,” Juliet said with a nod. “And those ways can also be used to prevent pregnancy.”

  “Really?” Maddie was fascinated despite her embarrassment. She really needed to confide in her cousins more often.

  Now it was Juliet’s turn to blush. “Since we have little Alice in our household, we are not quite ready for a child of our own. And given my fears about how my infirmity will affect my ability to carry a child, we have used French letters, yes.”

  “But I thought only—” Maddie stopped, not wanting to insult her cousin, but curious in spite of herself. “Are ladies able to use such things?”

  “Of course,” Juliet said firmly. “It really isn’t all that difficult. Though Alec is not overly fond of them. But he knows that it isn’t forever. And he loves me and does not wish me to conceive before I am ready.”

  “Well,” Maddie said with a shake of her head. “I had no idea. I wonder if Christian knows of such things.”

  “Maddie,” Cecily said kindly, “he was a solider. He knows about French letters.”

  “But Winterson was a soldier as well,” Maddie said, frowning. “Why didn’t you two…?”

  “Because we were not anticipating … that is to say, we were…” Cecily blushed, making both Maddie and Juliet giggle. “Oh, do be quiet, you two.”

  After their laughter died down, Maddie returned to the subject that brought them to such scandalous topics. “I sincerely hope that Linton loves Lady Emily as she says. For the sake of the child at the least. But I also hope that he will not come to town before the danger to his life has passed. It is all well and good to do his duty by his child’s mother, but it will do neither of them any good if he is killed before he can marry her.

  “If,” Maddie went on, “he intends to marry her. It will be very hard on them if Papa continues to oppose the match. Linton relies upon him for his allowance, and I would not be shocked if Papa cut him off for marrying her against his wishes.”

  Further discussion of the matter was forestalled by a brisk knock on the door of Cecily’s sitting room. Winterson, followed closely by Christian, stepped into the chamber.

  “I found this fellow wandering Mayfair in search of his wife, and took pity on him and brought him in for a drink,” Winterson said. “Imagine my shock when I discovered his wife to be here all the time!”

  He leaned down and kissed Cecily on the cheek. “See there, old fellow,” he said to Christian, who stood diffidently near the door, “I told you we’d find her.”

  Maddie met her husband’s eyes to ensure that he was not so worried as Winterson said he was. To her relief he seemed to be none the worse for wear. “I do not wish to interrupt your visit,” he said. Though Maddie found to her surprise that rather than being annoyed at being hunted down, she was ready to leave with him. It had been quite a while since she’d nestled in his arms in the wee hours of the morning.

  “We are quite finished,” she said aloud. Rising, she slipped her arm into his and they made their farewells.

  Soon enough, they were in the carriage on their way home. Rather than leaving her to sit decorously across from him, however, Christian pulled Maddie unceremoniously onto his lap and kissed her passionately.

  “Good afternoon, wife,” he said, once they broke away for breath. Maddie nestled her face into his neck, inhaling that potent combination of sandalwood, bayberry, and Christian. She arched her back a bit as he ran a hand down her back.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said softly, dragging her teeth over his earlobe.

  She felt a rumble of laughter in his chest. “I’ve missed you, too, Madeline. But if this is how you greet me when I return then I shall have to leave you more often.”

  * * *

  Christian hated to disturb the amity between them, but he knew that keeping the news about her brother from her would only make her angry. Inhaling the fragrant scent of her hair, and sliding a comforting hand over her back, he began, “Maddie, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  She stiffened in his arms. As he might have predicted. “I’m afraid your brother has gone missing.”

  Quickly he explained to her what had happened at the hunting lodge, not mentioning the fact that the men the Home Office had sent to look after Linton had bungled things. Badly.

  But Maddie’s response was not what he’d been expecting. Rather than speculating about where he might have gone, or gasping aloud at how close he came to death in the fire, she merely nodded, and laid her head back down on his shoulder. His suspicions raised, Christian grasped her shoulders and looked into her face, only partially lit in the dimness of the carriage.

  “You know something.” It was a statement, not a question. He should have known better than to try to keep something from his intrepid wife.

  Her only response was an eloquent shrug.

  Resisting the urge to shake her, he said, “Maddie, tell me what you know. This is not some scheme that you and your cousins have concocted to outsmart the ton. This is serious. Your brother’s life could be in danger.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Maddie retorted, her face flushed with pique. “I was there for Mr. Tinker’s dying breath, Christian. I know how deadly serious this business is. Do not do me the disservice of thinking that I am a silly society lady with nothing on my mind but hats and gowns.”

  He acknowledged the truth of her words, but was still unable to relax. “You are right,” he admitted. “I apologize for dismissing your concerns that way. But this business is not for the faint of heart. Tell me where you think he is.”

  She was clearly weighing the advisability of telling him. Though it was just as likely that her hunch was wrong, Christian knew all too well how discerning Maddie could be. And she knew her brother and his habits better than Christian or anyone with the Home Office did. He was willing to risk the loss of time it would take the see if Maddie was correct.

  Removing herself from his lap, Maddie slid into the seat beside him, plucking at the folds of her gown. “There is a town house that our father once owned.”

  “His mistress’s house, do you mean?” Christian was surprised Maddie knew such a woman existed, much less that she knew where she lived.

  “Papa used to take us with him when he visited her,” Maddie said softly. “He thought Mama would be less suspicious of his whereabouts if he took us with him.”

  “Good God.” He was appalled. He didn’t hold Maddie’s father in the highest of esteem, but he had taken Lord Essex’s attempt at apology at their wedding at face value. But the very idea that the man would bring his children with him to visit his mistress was shocking. “So, you and your brother were acquainted with this…”

  “Mrs. Hendricks,” Maddie said softly. “Yes, we were. She was actually quite lovely to us. And those afternoons weren’t lascivious at all. We would visit one of the less public parks, or play with her children—our half brothers and sisters. And she and Papa would just talk quietly.”

  “But if he had this other family,” Christian said, struggling to understand what could have motivated Essex to marry one woman and maintain a separate household with another, “why did he marry your mother?”

  Maddie shrugged. “We were never able to figure it out. Of course, we could hardly ask Mama. But she always spoke of their courtship as if she saw him and set her cap for him immediately. And however ineligible Mama and her sisters were, they were at least wellborn, despite their poverty. Mrs. Hendricks is the daughter of a butcher. It’s quite sad when
you think of it.”

  It was at that, Christian thought, marveling at her philosophical acceptance of the matter. Realizing that the issue at hand was not his approval or disapproval of Lord Essex’s actions, he asked, “So, you suspect that your brother has gone to this Mrs. Hendricks?”

  She nodded. “I think it likely, yes. He actually ran away to her once. When he was around ten years old. Mama had forbidden him from doing something, riding his pony alone in the park, I think. And he simply disappeared for a day. Mama and Papa were frantic. Finally, Mrs. Hendricks escorted him home.”

  He felt his mouth fall open. “To your parents’ house in Mayfair?” He tried to imagine what his own mama’s response to the arrival of her husband’s mistress on her doorstep would have been. It wasn’t a pretty picture. “That must have been…” He struggled to find the right word.

  “Distressing?” Maddie volunteered. “My mother was actually quite calm about it. Now, of course, I know what a shock it must have been, but at the time, I was just glad to see Hennie. And James, of course.”

  Turning his mind from the turmoil of the Essex household, Christian focused on the here and now. “So, you think that your brother might be there now? With this Hennie?”

  “I think it likely,” Maddie said. “He has always been fond of her despite my mother’s forbidding us to see her. Papa never took us there again, but James and I both visited her upon occasion over the years. Hennie did try to dissuade us, but we knew how much Papa loved her. And then there were the children. Our sisters and brothers. We could hardly just ignore them.”

  “Can we go there now?” Christian asked, still somewhat stunned by the tale. Nevertheless, he was glad enough to know where they might find Linton now. He just hoped to hell that no one else knew of this Hennie and her unconventional household.

  “Yes,” Maddie said. “It would likely take my brother a couple of days to reach Richmond from the hunting box, but I believe he could make it there if he had a fast enough horse.”

 

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