“I may have raised a few toasts in Albert’s honor,” Gabe said. He looked sidelong at Sarah then admitted, “More than a few. I spent a week in New York, waiting for the ship to London; most of my time in taverns. I missed your brother. I lamented his passing to anyone who’d listen. I may have spoken to the wrong person while waiting for the ship.”
Sarah frowned. “I cannot believe anyone would search for Albert for ten years.”
“If your father’s information is connected to someone powerful enough to kill for it, then ten years is not that long to wait.” He sighed. “Or this may not have anything at all to do with Albert, or America, and everything to do with you. It is possible they learned of his death and the focus turned in your direction.”
“All of this is neither here nor there now,” Mister Brown broke in. “This mystery brewed for a decade. We will probably never have all the answers.” He walked over to reclaim his hat, which he’d left on the table by the door. “I wanted to see that Sarah was well, express my condolences for your losses, and warn you to keep vigilant.” He nodded to her. “As soon as I discover anything further, I will send word.”
He left them.
Her strength fled her body. There was so much information to pick through. Add the news that she might be in danger and her emotions were raw.
“This puzzle is far-reaching.” Gabriel tossed back his brandy and poured another. “My promise to your brother may have led a killer to your cottage.”
“None of this is your fault. My visit to the Times and Bow Street lit the fuse,” Sarah said and met his eyes. There were so many troubling questions. “My father had many secrets.”
“That he did,” Gabriel said.
“How much had I really known my father, or brother? Both men had strived to keep me safe, yet in doing so had possibly put me in danger.” Her world had upended in a matter of minutes. Every childhood memory became a question, a matter of what was truth and what was an illusion. “If only Albert had left a note, something to explain his absence. Maybe then I might be better prepared for this new twist in my life.”
“I should have pressed him to divulge his secret,” Gabriel said. “Despite his fears, never did I think this would come back to endanger you.”
“How could you? I was the sister in braids you’d heard about in stories, and Albert’s ramblings about danger could’ve been from the unreasonable fears of an overwrought mind. His father was dead and his sister a sea away, living under the shadow of secrets. I’m surprised he did not go mad.”
“I never saw anything in Albert that led me to believe he was anything but level minded,” Gabriel assured her. “He truly worried about you every day. He thought he was doing what was best.”
“Then that leads me to wonder what Father was hiding and how much Albert knew? If my father was a spy, it’s acceptable to think his killer was also a spy.”
“From what Brown said, nothing has surfaced about the case since your father’s death, or they would have caught the killer. One would think the matter was put to rest.”
“The war is long over and Napoleon exiled,” Sarah agreed. “Unless there is another reason the traitor wants to see this case buried.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Although you have no information about the killer’s identity, he does not know that. His fears will make him dangerous.”
Sarah worried her thumbnail between her teeth. She hoped Mister Brown’s prediction was just speculation. She did not want to spend her days watching over her shoulder for a knife-wielding thug.
“We could look at this in another way,” Gabriel said. “The cottage had a few items that might attract thieves were they desperate enough.” At her skeptical stare, he held up a hand. “Or, there are people who just like to set fires. An abandoned cottage would be ideal in that regard. They’d search for valuables then set it ablaze to watch it burn.”
She pondered his thoughts for a moment. “True. The fire could be the work of a miscreant bent on mischief.” She wanted to think so. “We have not seen any indication that I am in danger, despite Mister Brown’s warning.”
“Then we shall keep vigilant and hope this matter comes to naught.” He walked to her and drew her up from the settee. He placed a kiss atop her head. “Until then, I think I will do some investigating on my own. I, too, have friends in highly placed positions.” He smiled. “Stay inside until I return.”
Sarah watched him go, feeling a bit warm from his casual show of affection.
Her husband certainly knew how to make her knees knock.
* * *
Noelle arrived minutes later to find Sarah standing at the window, her mind filled with thoughts of her father and his secret life. Father had been a spy against France, and a hero. But to her, he was just the man who teased and taught and made her laugh. With Mister Brown’s visit, he’d brought with him a renewed grief over the loss of the man she’d adored.
“There you are,” Noelle said as she swept into the room, her arms weighted down with books. “I have brought books about furniture and house plans. When you and Gabe purchase a home of your own, you must know how to decorate it properly for entertaining. We Harringtons have a standard to set.”
Sarah watched her in the reflection in the glass. She brushed a hand over her damp cheek and turned.
“Unless the house is fully furnished,” Sarah said. “Then I will hope the previous mistress had acceptable decorating talent.”
Noelle placed the books on the table and frowned as Sarah walked to her. “You’ve been crying.”
“It is nothing,” Sarah assured her. Her voice caught, ruining her attempt to keep her tone light. Noelle took her hand and drew her down onto the settee.
“Dearest, tell me what is the matter.”
Tears began anew. Noelle handed her a handkerchief. Sarah sniffed and began, “I received some news about my father.” She proceeded to share the information gleaned from Mister Brown, and against his wishes. She trusted Noelle with her secrets.
“What a puzzle.”
“Gabriel also had his trunk stolen upon his departure from New York. The theft of the trunk and the cottage burning may be nothing more than unconnected incidences. Neither may be related to my father’s work. Or they could be clues. We do not know.”
Noelle screwed up her face. “Men do love their secrets and spy games.” She watched the maid arrive with tea. Once the girl left, she sipped from her cup. “This is a muddle.”
“That, my dear Noelle, is understating the situation.” Sarah folded the handkerchief and tucked it into her bodice. “Gabriel has gone off to see what he can learn. Until then, I am to stay in the house, for my safety.”
“Gabriel is protective. Harrington men are.”
Sarah remembered Gabriel’s tight face when Mister Brown was telling his story. Anger had flashed in those green eyes when the Runner spoke of danger.
“I cannot say I will not be pleased if he stays protectively close.” As soon as the words were out, Sarah flicked her gaze to Noelle and touched her fingertips to her mouth. “I have looked for a way to get my husband’s attention. Now I have one. He will not let me come to harm.”
Noelle nodded slowly, a dawning washing over her face. “Lud, you are correct. And what is superior to a bit of danger directed at his wife to get a Harrington man’s blood fired up? And when his blood is heated, he will seek out his passionate wife.”
Although still apprehensive at the thought of Gabriel taking her to bed, Sarah knew Noelle had a point. “We cannot be certain there is no threat until the Runners conclude their investigation.” A shy smile crossed her face. “Perhaps my husband and I should shackle ourselves together lest I am snatched off the street.”
“Perhaps we should forgo furniture in favor of teaching you about perfumes and silk stockings and lacy corsets,” Noelle said. “The correct placement of perfume can drive a man
mad.”
The smile faded. Sarah’s thoughts turned from spies to her husband. “Sadly, I know nothing of what maddens a man like Gabriel. He may prefer a drab cotton nightdress to lacy corsets.”
Noelle nodded and scrunched up her nose. “I have an idea. It is terribly scandalous and you cannot tell anyone about this.” She stood and called for the maid. When the girl appeared at the door, she asked for their bonnets and cloaks and the footman to hail a hackney. She turned back to Sarah. “Come, we cannot linger. The day is growing long. We need to return before Gabriel realizes you are missing.”
Sarah tried to question Noelle, but the woman stubbornly refused to answer her queries. They climbed into the waiting hackney. Noelle gave him the address and they were off.
“This is our secret,” Noelle said, repeating her earlier warning. “Not a whisper.”
Dire warning aside, Sarah was intensely curious. She’d only known Noelle for a few weeks and already would follow her anywhere, if just to see what sort of mischief her friend could get them into. Never having had a close female friend, she was enjoying the experience immensely.
“I will not speak a word.”
The ancient hackney rattled along for a bit while Sarah and Noelle speculated on whether they’d conclude their journey without the wheels falling off or the roof collapsing in on them. Finally the coach drew to a shuddering halt.
Sarah looked out the window and saw a three-story building, weighted with decorative trim. In the yard, a full dozen or so children played. The mass of tangled bodies screamed and dashed about after a hapless puppy.
“I cannot imagine why you have brought me here,” she said. The pup managed to escape under a bush.
Noelle took her arm. “Not that house.” She pointed out the window on her side. “That one.”
The town house was not large or interesting. The façade was uninteresting, simple of design, as if all of the good trim had been used up on the house across the street.
“It is all clearer to me now,” she muttered, unimpressed.
Sighing, Noelle let the driver assist her down and paid him after he assisted Sarah to the street. “Do I detect a touch of sarcasm, Cousin?”
Sarah shrugged. “I admit to a measure of disappointment. With your mysterious behavior and dire warning, I expected an adventure. Pirates. Smugglers.” She squinted up at the house. “Not this.”
A tsk-tsk followed. “You cannot always judge with your eyes only. I am about to give you an adventure the likes of which will keep you awake for many nights to come.”
Within minutes of entering the house, Sarah was overtaken by the first of many blushes that she knew would continue for the rest of the visit when Noelle introduced her to Miss Sophie.
“Sophie runs the courtesan school.”
Miss Sophie welcomed her, shot a questioning look at Noelle, and went off to the kitchen to order refreshments.
“A courtesan school?” Sarah whispered, her voice tinged with mortification. “You have brought me to a school that teaches women how to be courtesans?”
Noelle took their bonnets and cloaks and hung them on hooks by the door. “Absolutely not.” She led Sarah down the narrow hallway to a small parlor. “The courtesans come here to escape their profession and to learn how to be proper wives.”
Relief filled Sarah’s bones. “Thank goodness.” She paused, and then said acerbically, “I’m comforted by this knowledge.”
Noelle countered, “You must learn to be open to new adventures no matter the form in which they come. Sometimes it is best to close your eyes and leap into the abyss.”
Sarah ignored the comment. “Why are we here, Noelle?”
“I thought you might want to ask questions of the women about what interests men. These young ladies know how to attract and keep men slavering at their heels. If anyone can give advice about men, it is a courtesan.”
“Former courtesan,” Sophie scolded. She’d returned bearing a tea tray and cakes. “We are no longer courtesans once we pass through these doors.”
Sarah stared at Sophie. She was a courtesan, too? The woman did not look like what Sarah thought a courtesan would. She was positively proper in her brown dress and hair primly knotted at her nape.
Under her curious look, Sophie shrugged. “Except for Cook and Miss Eva, all the remaining women living here were once courtesans, or mistresses, if you prefer that term. We have six women currently taking lessons, though all but Mary are out shopping with Miss Eva. Mary has a sniffle.”
As if hearing her name spoken, a small blond woman with a bright red nose, dressed in gray wool, stepped into the open doorway. A handkerchief was clutched in her fingertips.
“You called for me, Miss Sophie?”
Miss Sophie frowned. “Why are you not abed?”
“I am weary of staring at the ceiling,” Mary said softly, chastised. “I have been sequestered for a week. If I did not flee my room, I feared I would soon succumb to the desire to leap from my bedroom window headfirst onto the bush below.”
“Oh dear. Miss Eva would be most displeased,” Noelle said, her lips twitching. “She adores that bush.”
Her jest deepened Miss Sophie’s frown. The woman leveled a glare on Noelle and turned back to Mary. “You may join us for tea, then off to bed.”
“Thank you, Miss Sophie.” She scurried over and took a seat on the settee next to the older woman who poured fragrant tea for everyone.
After they settled down with their cups, Sophie turned back to Noelle. “We have not seen you in several weeks, Miss Noelle. I thought that perhaps you were ill.” She glanced at Sarah. “Clearly you have returned with a purpose in mind. Perhaps you should explain what it is?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to Noelle. Somehow, Sarah was not surprised that Noelle knew the school well. Her friend was not above doing shocking things. Spending time in the company of former courtesans confirmed that belief.
Noelle fingered the lace on her sleeve and glanced sidelong at Sarah. Sarah braced herself for embarrassment.
“I have an, er, friend who is having difficulties in her marriage and requires some advice,” Noelle began, and Sarah’s face blazed. “You see, she is shy and does not know how to enchant her husband. He sees her as a duty, not as a lover.”
Sarah was certain she was as red as a baboon’s backside. And she’d seen enough paintings of the odd-looking primates to know the similarity.
“Do they sleep in the same bed?” Mary asked. She nibbled on a sugared oat cake.
“They do not.”
With her free hand, Mary rubbed her nose with the handkerchief. “I suppose that is to be expected if she is noble. Is she noble?”
“Her husband is. She was not before they married, although my friend is of a certain class above, not a washerwoman or maid. Her father was a secretary to a lord.”
Sophie leaned forward. “Do they get on well enough otherwise?”
“They do,” Noelle said. “There is some affection there. The union was made by her deceased brother and was not a love match. My friend would like it to be so.”
Sarah stopped herself in mid-nod. She did not want the two former courtesans to suspect her in this tale. It was difficult enough to have her privacy spread out for all to examine.
“Hmmm. This may prove to be a challenge,” Mary said and dabbed her watery eyes. “Men usually feel passion the instant they see a desirable face or figure. It is difficult to build on what is not immediately present.”
“Then it’s hopeless?” Sarah exclaimed. When she realized her outburst, she put her hands over her mouth.
This time three pairs of eyes were on her. Her throat closed up. In a moment, she would collapse dead on the floor from shame. “Oh dear,” she whispered.
Mary smiled before turning back to Noelle. “It is not hopeless. A glimpse of an ankle, the curve of
her neck, a hint of perfume will all do well to tweak his attention.” She reached for a second cake. “If those choices prove unsuccessful, she can always bend over to pick up her stocking from the floor, wearing her lowest-cut corset, or wriggle her bottom while clad in nothing but a sheer chemise.”
“Excellent points,” Noelle agreed.
Sarah was just pleased to see the women had decided to ignore the obvious proof that she was the unhappy wife and continue on as if she’d not called out.
The idea of strangers knowing her troubles mortified her. Still, there were things Mary said that gave her hope. Perhaps this little adventure was the solution to her troubles.
The former courtesan spent the next fifteen minutes explaining other ways to entice men. “Men are a simple lot,” Mary teased. “A low neckline and a pushed-up bosom can offer them hours of salacious entertainment.”
The young woman had a point. Mary continued, “The wife could greet him abed in nothing but a smile and her husband would be happy indeed. But if she wants to drive him mad, she must subtly tempt him. Once he is hooked, he’ll never understand why he ever saw her as a ‘duty’ to her brother.”
Mary’s words made sense. Whether Sarah could put her advice to application was the question. She was no seductress.
“Of course, there are things a woman can do in bed to leave a man panting,” Mary added. Sarah’s attention snapped back to the former courtesan. “Would you like for me to list them?”
“No!” Sophie and Noelle said in unison.
Mary giggled, sneezed, and giggled again. She looked at Sarah. “If you ever want my list, you will find me here for the next few weeks. I will be happy to teach you everything I know.”
Despite Noelle’s lesson, her eyes turned downward and she stared at the faded rug.
Noelle saved her. “I think it time for us to go. It is growing late.” They all stood. Noelle took Sarah’s hand, thanked Sophie and Mary, and led her from the room and out of the house. They stood on the stoop while the butler called for a carriage to be brought around.
The Wife He Always Wanted Page 13