The Revenge of Lord Eberlin

by Julia London

  “That may be, but I am also determined to find the missing Ashwood jewels,” Lily countered. “If I find them, our financial problems will be solved. It’s at least as good a chance as wooing some gentleman to make an offer.”

  Mr. Fish arched a brow. “You do know that many have tried to find the jewels and have failed?”

  “Yes, I know. But that means they are still out there somewhere, Mr. Fish, and I daresay no one can possibly be more motivated than me to find them.”

  He shook his head, much as Tobin had done. “I hope, for your sake, that you are successful, madam. But I must caution you from putting your hopes too high—those jewels are likely in many pieces and now scattered.”

  Lily was not going to let that strong possibility dissuade her or discourage her. She had to find them. She remembered what Tobin had advised her the night he’d been snowed in at Ashwood, and she asked Mr. Fish for the books.

  “I doubt you will find anything particularly illuminating in them,” he said as he led her to the ledgers that chronicled years of expenditures and income for Ashwood. “I have reviewed them many times myself.”

  But he hadn’t been searching for clues to the jewels’ whereabouts.

  It proved to be tedious work—the business of the estate went back more than two hundred years, obscure details duly recorded in those ledgers, day by day, and week by week. Mr. Fish was probably correct that she’d find nothing—she hardly even knew what she might look for—but she had to start somewhere.

  She searched the ledgers for one that encompassed the year 1793. When she found it, she took it from the cabinet and opened it on the desk. Dust mites swirled out from the pages and sent her into a fit of sneezing. With her eyes watering, she opened to the frontispiece. The recording had begun in November of 1792, just a few months before Mr. Scott’s demise in June of 1793. Lily ran her finger down the entries on the page, finding nothing remarkable. What had she expected? That she might find an entry: Sold, to a curator in London, one ruby coronet, one ruby necklace, one pair of ruby earrings, the sum being the gift of King Henry VIII to the first earl of Ashwood? Hardly.

  There was nothing in the pages of that ledger but the purchases made over the years on behalf of Ashwood: a dozen head of cattle, beeswax for candling, flour and fowl and linens and carpets and new livery uniforms. The rents also were recorded, with each tenant’s name listed each month, the amount of rent due, and the amount of rent that was owed. And there was, as Mr. Fish had explained, a steady increase in expense and a decrease in revenues.

  Lily slowly turned the pages until halfway through, her eye caught the name Mr. Walter Minglecroft. He had been paid a sum of five hundred pounds in the spring of 1793, a generous amount by any measure. Yet there was no mention of what Mr. Minglecroft’s services had been. Lily was not surprised—there seemed to have been a lack of accurate record keeping through the years. She found two more entries for comparable sums paid again to Mr. Minglecroft in 1798 and in 1799, both without mention of the services he’d performed. How odd.

  Lily wondered if Mr. Minglecroft was a vicar, or perhaps a merchant of some sort. It was also curious that there was a gap of five years between the first payment and the last two.

  She continued her search in the next ledger.

  Curiously, Minglecroft appeared again. From 1800 to 1803 she found two payments, the last being for one thousand pounds. Then from 1804 onward, a full two years before the old earl went missing, the payments to Mr. Minglecroft ceased. Now curious as to when they had started, Lily pulled out earlier ledgers and discovered that the payments to Minglecroft had begun in 1791.

  But that was all. The entries did not provide a hint of where the jewels might have been. It was more likely that Minglecroft was just some merchant or tradesman and nothing more. Disappointed, Lily put the ledgers away.

  But what trade? Lily wondered as she made her way upstairs. She was mulling that over when Linford entered the study with a tea service. “I beg your pardon, madam, but Mrs. Thorpe had asked that you take your medicinal tea.” He moved a bit crookedly to place it on a small table near the desk.

  “Linford, have you ever heard the name Mingle-croft?” Lily asked as he readied the tea.

  “Can’t say that I have,” he said. “But my memory isn’t as keen as it once was.” He poured tea.

  “I found his name in the estate records. Who might know who he was?”

  “Mr. Fish, I should think. He seems a rather clever young man.”

  “But he was not in service at Ashwood at that time.”

  Linford thought for a moment. “There was Mr. Bowman. He was the estate agent for many years. Although I have heard recently that he has been afflicted by a stroke.”

  Lily remembered Mr. Bowman quite well. He was the one who had interrogated her the morning after the jewels had been discovered missing. He’d sat her in a chair and asked her what she had seen and precisely when she’d seen it as the earl had stood with his back to her, gazing out the window.

  There was something else, too, Lily thought, trying to recapture that sliver of memory. What was it?

  “Before him . . .” Linford frowned in concentration. “Mr. John Valmont, I believe. Goodness, I am pleased that I should recall that name, it’s been so long ago. He was an affable fellow, really. I rather liked him.”

  “What became of him?” Lily asked as Linford set the cup of tea on the desk where she was sitting.

  “I think the earl did not much care for him. The man was young and eager and asked quite a lot of questions. His lordship did not care to be questioned.”

  Lily could certainly believe that was true. “When was Mr. Valmont dismissed?”

  “Not long after you came to us, as best I can recall.” He clasped his hands at his back and bowed. “Please do drink your tea, if I may be so bold, mu’um. I dare say neither of us will want to face the wrath of Thorpe.”

  Lily picked up her tea. “For our sake, Linford,” she said gravely, but when the old butler had shuffled out, Lily put the foul-smelling tea aside.

  “A vision of loveliness you are, Lady Ashwood.”

  Startled, Lily looked up. Standing in the door was a tall, blue-eyed, dark-haired man who looked even more appealing than the last time Lily had seen him—which had been here, when he and Keira had made their escape.

  “Declan!” she cried, leaping from her chair and rushing forward to throw her arms around him. “When did you come?”

  “I have only just arrived.” He was grinning from ear to ear and looked exceedingly happy as he held her tightly, kissing her on both cheeks. “You are a sight for Irish eyes, lass,” he said.

  “You were not expected for another two days! What a welcome surprise. Come, come,” she said, grabbing his hand, pulling him into the study. “I must have all the news.”

  “What shall I tell you?” Declan said. “Keira has outgrown her gowns. You will not believe me when I tell you that she consumes twice as much food as I do. It is astonishing.”

  Lily laughed.

  “The twins are still incorrigible,” he added with a shake of his head. “I should very much like to send them off to London and see them married, but Mr. Hannigan complains that he has lost two daughters as it is and cannot bear to lose two more. I think he could bear it quite excellently if he’d only allow himself the happy thought.”

  Lily laughed. “Uncle grows sentimental in his old age. It wasn’t so long ago that he threatened to see us all married before our eighteenth year so that he could pass one Sunday afternoon in leisure.”

  “Lord Donnelly!” Lucy’s voice was filled with elation; she was rushing into Declan’s arms before he’d even registered her arrival, throwing herself at him.

  Declan wrapped her in a tight embrace. “There’s my girl! Look at you, lass—you’ve grown a foot!”

  “I’ve grown scarcely at all! When do we go to Ireland?”

  “In a few days,” Declan said and kissed the top of her head.

  “W
here shall I stay in Ireland?” Lucy asked excitedly, tugging at Declan’s arm. “Shall I have a room?”

  “A room? You will have more than a room, lassie. You shall have a pair of them, just like a princess.”

  Lucy beamed at Lily. “The new countess says that Ballynaheath is very large and I might get lost.”

  “There are lots of people about to guide you,” he said with a wink. “We won’t allow you to be lost. Ah, but that reminds me.” Declan reached into his coat and removed two folded vellums, which he put in Lily’s hand. “Keira has written at length.”

  “How long will you stay?” Lily asked.

  “I’ll need at least a day or two to prepare the horses, as I have brought only one man. Thursday morning should see us off. I want to get home as soon as I might.”

  Of course he would want to be home with his pregnant wife and Lucy. Oh, how Lily would miss the girl!

  “Shall I show him to his rooms?” Lucy asked excitedly, already tugging on his arm.

  “We should leave that to Linford, darling,” Lily said. “He’ll know where to put him.”

  “I know where to put him! In the green room, where he put the count!” Lucy exclaimed.

  One of Declan’s brows drifted up; he gave Lily a questioning look.

  “A rather long and boring tale,” she said, trying to sound light.

  But Declan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then I shall be on tenterhooks to hear it.”

  “Come, I want to show you!” Lucy said, pulling on Declan’s hand. He cast a helpless look to Lily.

  Lily laughed and gestured to the door. “I think your attention is very much desired.”

  When he and Lucy had gone, Lily eagerly opened the letter from Keira. It was filled with instructions, as usual, as Keira had never been one to shy away from assuming authority.

  If you would be so kind, darling, do send a basket with Lucy so she does not go hungry. I fear my husband will be so determined to return to Ireland, he will not be attentive to such things as feeding his young charge. We both know he has always been more interested in horses than in humans. Kiss Lucy liberally for me and tell her that I can scarcely abide the wait to see her here at Ballynaheath.

  Lily sighed. “I can scarcely bear to see her go.”

  Molly and Mabe send their love, as do Mamma and Pappa. Pappa is sitting very nearby at present and he wishes me to tell you that we all miss you dreadfully and he should like an invitation to Ashwood to see your lovely estate when you will have him. I caution you to think very carefully before inviting Molly and Mabe, as they might see their way to make the dreadful situation I left you in even worse. It is rather hard to imagine that could be so, but you know very well how they can be.

  “Oh, I know.” Lily tried briefly to imagine Molly and Mabe in the company of the women from Hadley Green and shuddered lightly.

  Oh darling, I nearly forgot! I can scarcely keep a thought in my head in my present condition, but I have long meant to tell you that there are a few letters written to Aunt Althea tucked away in a box in the window seat of her sitting room. I thought you might find them interesting. You must write me and tell me how Ashwood fares. I pray that Eberlin has left you alone.

  Oh, Keira! If only she were here now.

  “I beg your pardon, mu’um,” Louis said, walking into the room.

  Lily looked up from her letters.

  “Lord Eberlin is calling.”

  “I wasn’t expecting him.” And she wasn’t certain she wanted to see him, what with the news of the granary.

  “He’s got a box for you.”

  Curiosity was enough to persuade her. “Bring him in, please.”

  A moment later Louis returned with Tobin, who was carrying a box.

  “What in heaven?” Lily asked as Tobin set the box on the settee and Louis left.

  “Good afternoon.” He was smiling. “You seem quite recovered, Lady Ashwood. Naturally that gladdens my heart, as it means we might resume our devil’s bargain.”

  Lily flushed, and she looked nervously to the door, expecting Declan to return and hear about that bargain.

  “You may think me uncommonly bold, but I saw this gown in London and happened to think of a lamb who would look particularly fetching in it. I guessed that your recovery has prevented you from making a timely call to your modiste, so I offer this with salutations for your continued good health.”

  He removed the lid from the box and lifted up a gown. It was a soft, shimmering gold brocade trimmed in creamy satin. The hem and the sleeves were embroidered with dark gold thread and tiny crystals that sparkled in the afternoon light. The décolletage was quite low.

  “I don’t understand,” Lily said uncertainly. The gown was gorgeous, as beautiful as any she’d ever seen. “That is far too generous.” What would people think to see her wearing a gown he’d bought for her? What would they assume she’d done for such generosity? What would Tobin think he’d won for it?

  “It is a gift,” he said. But his buoyant look began to fade.

  The gift was too extravagant, too assuming. As if she ’d been his mistress! “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I cannot accept it.”

  Tobin looked baffled. He glanced at the gown. “I assure you, it was purchased in a Bond Street shop from a reputable dressmaker—”

  “It’s not that, Tobin.”

  “Then what?”

  “Lily? Who have we here?”

  Lily’s heart began to flutter uncomfortably. She turned to the door. “Lord Donnelly, may I present—”

  “You needn’t introduce us,” Declan said as he walked into the study, his gaze fixed on Tobin. “I know who he is.” His gaze flicked to the box. “What is that?”

  “A gift,” Tobin said.

  “Which I am refusing,” Lily said quickly. Too quickly. Tobin looked at her now, his expression hard. She felt ashamed and guilty and angry at once. How dare he put her in this position?

  “What is it, Lily?” Tobin asked, his voice dangerously low. “Are you ashamed of your bargain?”

  Lily blanched. She did not dare look at Declan.

  “Leave,” Declan said. “You are not welcome at Ashwood.”

  “And you are . . . what? Her protector? Her lover?” Tobin asked coldly.

  Declan picked up the box and shoved them at Tobin, forcing him to take them. “Leave now, sir, or I shall delight in removing you myself.”

  Tobin looked at Lily. It seemed as if he was waiting for her to speak, to offer Declan some explanation. When she did not—she could not, how could she?—he let the box drop and walked out.

  Declan followed him to the door. “Louis,” he called to her footman. When Louis appeared, Declan pointed to the box. “Return it to Tiber Park.”

  As Lily watched Louis pick up the box, her heart was pounding, her breath short. The beautiful gown was precisely the sort of thing a gentleman would give his mistress. She’d clearly lost the edge in this battle with Tobin and had to regain the upper hand.

  When Louis had left the room, Declan folded his arms. “We need to talk, muirnín.”

  FIFTEEN

  “Look!” Lucy cried as she scudded into the salon. She was holding an enormous pinecone. “I found this by the river. I’m taking it to Ireland,” she said proudly and held it up to Declan to have a look.

  “A fine specimen,” he said.

  “Come,” Lucy said, her hand in his again. “I have more to show you.”

  Declan looked at Lily. “I shall return for tea,” he said pointedly. “You will join me, will you not?”

  “Of course,” Lily said, waving him away.

  An hour later, Declan returned to find Lily in the salon, reading through Aunt Althea’s letters which Keira had directed her to in her letter.

  “My soon-to-be daughter is a wee bit precocious,” he said fondly.

  Lily laughed. “That is precisely what Keira deserves, if you ask me. There are times the girl seems to be a wee Keira.”

  “She worries about y
ou,” Declan said.

  “Keira?” Lily asked, and shook her head.

  “No, Lucy.”

  Lily laughed. “I cannot imagine why she would worry about me.”

  Declan smiled. “It would seem you haven’t any friends because Keira rather ruined it all for you.”

  “She said that?” Lily asked, astounded.

  “Not in so many words, but she has deduced it. She fears that the only friend you will have is Mr. Fish, whom she does not find the least bit suitable, as he is rather tiresome and does not possess the talent of conversation to suit her.”

  Lily laughed. “He is rather terse.”

  Declan sat next to Lily on the settee. “Lucy is further convinced that you should help yourself to another orphan from St. Bartholomew’s,” he said lightly. “Or better yet, produce your own child, although I was quite relieved that she recognized that was not something a lady of proper breeding undertook without a husband.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “Is it true?” Declan asked. “Do you lack for companions?”

  Lily shrugged. “There were some hard feelings in the beginning,” she said as lightly as she could. “Keira deceived people; it is little wonder that the trust for Ashwood had eroded. But I think the citizens of Hadley Green are beginning to come round.”

  Declan sighed. “I tried to tell Keira as much, but she steadfastly refused to heed me. Nevertheless, I think you are surrounded by fools here, Lily. I have rarely known a finer woman than you.”

  She blushed at the compliment. “Declan, you are very kind, but—”

  “I am not. I have known you some fifteen years, and you are not your cousin and you do not go about things as she does, God save us all,” he said.

  Lily couldn’t help but smile at the impetuosity of her most beloved cousin. “Keira has always had her own ideas, and if you were to compare the devil to her, the devil would seem an angel,” she said laughingly. “But I am not as perfect as you believe, Declan.”