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Susie Darcy's Tenacious Nature

Page 13

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘I see.’ James rubbed his chin. ‘Excuse the delicate question, but is there any possibility of Nesbit being involved in this business with Bevan.’

  ‘Not the slightest,’ Sir Robert replied with alacrity. ‘They are both getting on in age.’

  ‘That needn’t preclude—’

  ‘I have stayed in their London house many times. Everything there is top-notch. Besides, Nesbit and I have known each other for too long to cut a sham. If Nesbit’s fortunes had taken a downturn to the extent that he was obliged even to consider anything so fraudulent, he would have come to me rather than sink to those depths.’

  ‘It’s safe to assume, then, that Nesbit knows nothing of Bevan’s activities.’

  ‘Safe as houses. If he did, he’d turn him over to the authorities himself, quick as you like. You can take my word for that.’

  ‘And will happily do so.’ James paused, wondering what to do next. ‘Does Bevan reside with his aunt permanently?’

  Sir Robert shook his head. ‘I have no idea, I’m afraid. That was the first and only time I made his acquaintance.’

  ‘Then I must assume that he does not or your paths would have crossed.’ James paused for emphasis. ‘Miss Stoughton, the Covingtons governess, recalls meeting him several times when she was in Italy recently with the family.’

  Sir Robert jerked upright in his chair. ‘You imagine Covington is involved in this miserable business?’

  ‘As I said before, Sir Robert, I must consider every possibility. Do you know anything about that gentleman’s circumstances that might make him desperate enough to become embroiled?’

  ‘Well, I don’t like to spread unfounded rumours—’

  ‘Given the delicacy of my mission, I can assure you of my discretion, Sir Robert.’

  ‘Very well then. He purchased a horse from me some months ago and hasn’t yet paid for it.’ Sir Robert ran a hand across his scalp. ‘I’ve had to remind him twice. Damned rum business if a gentleman don’t pay his dues to another gentleman. Covington shouldn’t need me to tell him that, which makes you wonder.’

  ‘It will do his reputation no good, certainly. He cannot expect his non-payment to remain confidential indefinitely.’

  ‘Yet if he was involved with Bevan selling on forgeries while he was in Derbyshire, he should have the wherewithal to discharge his most pressing debts.’

  James fixed the baronet with a considering look. ‘Perhaps he did and if you, one of his closest neighbours, did not receive his dues, I hesitate to think how bad his circumstances might actually be.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Sir Robert nodded thoughtfully. ‘I take your point.’

  James had run out of questions and stood to take his leave. ‘Thank you, Sir Robert. A great deal more is now clear to me.’

  ‘It is?’ Sir Robert made it evident from his confused expression that the same could not be said for him. ‘What more can I do to help?’

  ‘Nothing at present, other than to keep this between ourselves and discover where the Nesbits now are.’

  ‘Naturally. Goes without being said.’

  ‘Please present my compliments to Lady Gaunt and say how sorry I am to have been denied the pleasure of her company this morning.’

  Sir Robert rang the bell. ‘That I will, sir.’

  The butler came to show James out. He rode back to the village, expecting to find Dawlish in the tavern. This business was becoming more complicated by the second and it needed two heads to sort through the clues.

  ‘Porter was here,’ Dawlish said when James found him exactly where he expected him to be, sitting in the corner of the taproom with a full view of the comings and goings. ‘He met with a man who I later discovered is Covington’s steward.’

  ‘Damn!’

  ‘What did you find out from Sir Robert?’

  James told him. ‘It explains a lot, and also leaves me more in the dark than ever.’ He lifted his tankard of ale and took a healthy sup. ‘Bevan is involved. We know that for a fact.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Covington almost certainly is and his steward acts as his go-between. But where the devil does Porter fit in, and more to the point, who is the actual forger and where can he be found?’

  ‘Seems to me like we need to follow the one man who we know is involved and he’ll lead us where we need to go.’

  ‘Covington’s steward?’

  Dawlish nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ᴥᴥᴥ

  As Susie rode slowly towards Mirabelle’s house, she gradually brought her oscillating emotions under control following her high risk interview with James. Composed she might appear to be, but she was more confused than ever with regard to that gentleman and the ridiculous possibilities that crept into her head whenever they were in the same room for a prolonged period. She couldn’t put a name to the way he made her feel when he bestowed such disarmingly infectious smiles upon her, smiles that curdled her insides and made every cell in her body acutely aware of him. It was most extraordinary and had she not known better she might dare to imagine that he admire her.

  But, of course, she knew a great deal better.

  Besides, Susie had seen the most exquisite Miss Fleming, which should put paid to any further ridiculous conjecture. Even so, she thought as she allowed her mare to wander along at her own pace, she had not seen James bestow looks that were more like tender caresses upon the lady everyone expected him to marry. In fact, he had seemed put out by her arrival. A man violently in love, she happened to know because she had seen her sister and cousins with such men, were unable to hide their feelings, but James couldn’t distance himself from Miss Fleming quickly enough. So it must follow that James was a superb actor, although why he would want to conceal his feelings Susie couldn’t have said. Unless he had no feelings for the divine Beatrice.

  ‘Don’t be absurd!’ she said aloud, putting her cogitations aside as she reached Mirabelle’s home. Her friend would be out of her bed by now, even if it was still unfashionably early to make a call. No one would mind about that, especially not Mirabelle.

  Susie was greeted with informality by Mrs Shelton.

  ‘My, you are up and about early,’ she said. ‘But Mira will be pleased to see you. She is still in her room. Do go up, my dear. I dare say you girls have a lot to talk about.’

  ‘Mama says it is essential to meet with one’s closest friends and talk about what was said by whom and, more importantly, what was not said at any gathering,’ Susie replied with a mischievous smile.

  ‘Ah, my dear. I am not so old that I don’t remember the urgency of such discussions.’

  Susie smiled, begged Mrs Shelton to excuse her and made her way upstairs. She found her friend perched on the window seat, staring out at the view.

  ‘I saw you riding up,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Why should it be?’ Susie flopped down beside Mirabelle. ‘You know me. I sometimes have trouble sleeping.’

  ‘Especially when a handsome visitor to the area singles you out,’ Mirabelle replied, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’m glad you are here because I expect you to tell me everything that happened during your sojourn on the terrace with Mr Tyrell.’

  Susie shrugged. ‘There isn’t much to tell. I did not follow him out there, if that’s what you suppose. He came upon me by accident so could hardly ignore me and we talked about art.’

  Mirabelle looked unconvinced. ‘I think it very unkind of you not to confide in me,’ she pouted. ‘I tell you absolutely everything that happens that’s the slightest bit interesting between your brother and me. Not that there is much of that nature to tell,’ she added mutinously. ‘I think I’m wasting my time.’

  ‘I keep telling you, my brothers and male cousins have agreed not to marry until…well, I’m not entirely sure under what conditions one of them can break their pact but you must be patience, Mira. Their bond is very strong but I know Marc likes you very much.’

  ‘Has he said so?’ she asked expectantl
y, her eyes alight with hope.

  ‘Of course not. I’m the last person he would tell because he doesn’t trust me not to run to you and repeat everything he says, which obviously I would, so I can’t fault him in that regard. Besides, gentlemen don’t talk about these things in the same way that we do.’ Susie flapped a hand. ‘They think it unmanly, I expect. Or a sign of breaking ranks.’

  ‘Which is all very well, but if I wait much longer for Marc to decide if he likes me or not, I shall be in danger of becoming an ape leader. Then no one will want me and everyone will feel sorry for me.’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic. We are still only eighteen.’

  ‘Which is more than old enough to be married.’

  ‘Better to wait for the right husband rather than accept the first one who offers for you out of a sense of desperation. It is often said that if a gentleman wants to know how his wife will appear in twenty years’ time, he need look no further than her mother. Well, the same could be said of gentlemen, in my view. Look at their fathers and decide if you can stand to stare at hooked noses and warts over the breakfast table in the years to come.’

  Mirabelle burst out laughing. ‘You are so good for me, Susie. No matter how low I’m feeling, you always manage to make me smile.’

  ‘Actually, I was being serious but if you choose to laugh at me I shall not take offence.’

  ‘I know what your game is, Miss Darcy.’ Mirabelle shook a finger beneath Susie’s nose. ‘You seek to turn the conversation away from the enticing Mr Tyrell by making me laugh.’

  ‘Actually I was about to remind you that Mr Albright showed a lot of interest in you again last night. You could do worse.’

  ‘I don’t want Mr Albright.’

  Susie sighed. ‘Which is most unreasonable of you. He is a very pleasant young man and stands to inherit a large fortune.’

  ‘I am not that shallow!’ Mirabelle proclaimed hotly. ‘Oh, I know Marc is heir to a much larger fortune but that is not what attracts me to him and well you know it.’

  Susie nodded. She did know it. Mirabelle had been vying for Marc’s attention since before she first put her hair up and stepped out into local society. Being such a close friend of Susie’s meant that she was well acquainted with all three of her brothers and her male cousins but she had had eyes for no man but Marc in all that time.

  ‘Still, since you are only eighteen,’ Susie said, giving the subject the serious consideration it deserved, ‘I don’t think you need to worry about being left on the shelf quite yet. Luc, Arthur and Daniel finish at Cambridge this summer. When all of my male relatives have completed their educations, I expect they will turn their thoughts to their familial responsibilities and perhaps their pact will start to crumble.’

  ‘I thought it might do so when Simon showed so much interest in Miss Stoughton, but I noticed last night that he was far less interested in her.’

  ‘Spence took over.’

  Mirabelle’s eyes widened. ‘Do you think…’

  ‘No, sorry.’ Susie shook her head and laughed. ‘Spence, in my opinion, will be the last of my brothers to get himself leg-shackled. He is far too restless, too independently-minded to think about settling down.’

  ‘Unless he falls in love.’

  ‘Well yes, but I can’t see that happening somehow.’

  ‘Since Marc is the oldest, it falls to him to think of matrimony first.’

  Susie pinched her friend’s cheek. ‘And when he does, I am sure you will find him at your door, writing sonnets in praise of your lovely eyes.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Mira rested her chin and her clenched fist and looked glum. ‘I wish I could be so sure. Oh, I think he likes me and he always makes a point of talking to me whenever we attend the same parties—but then I am your friend so I suppose he feels obligated.’

  ‘You could always excite his jealousy by pretending to encourage Mr Albright.’

  ‘I couldn’t do that!’ Mirabelle looked shocked. ‘I wouldn’t know how to go about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Mr Albright, I doubt if Marc would even notice and I’d probably find myself engaged to Mr Albright by default.’

  ‘Oh, I think Marc would notice. I saw him scowl in your direction several times last night when Mr Albright engaged you in such animated conversation.’

  Mirabella’s face lit up. ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Absolutely. I shall drop into casual conversation that you enjoy his society, if you like. It might galvanise Marc into action. No man likes to be gainsaid.’

  ‘Well, all right then, but don’t make it sound as though I have settled my interest elsewhere. Marc is too honourable to try and take me away from another man if he thinks we have an understanding.’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Susie replied with determination. ‘I know how to handle all of my brothers.’

  ‘So, tell me all about Mr Tyrell,’ Mirabelle said. ‘What did you really talk about—and don’t say art because I won’t believe you. Gentlemen who find themselves alone on dark terraces with single young ladies do not waste opportunities by talking about art.’

  Susie raised a brow. ‘Your experience of gentlemanly conduct on terraces clearly eclipses my own.’

  ‘Stop prevaricating! How long does he plan to remain in Derbyshire? Will his father—’

  Laughing, Susie held up a hand to stem the flow of questions. ‘We spoke about nothing of consequence,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back to negate the lie. ‘Mostly we really did discuss art since it’s a common interest and I had a lot of questions for him. I have no idea how long he plans to stay, or why he chose to come to Derbyshire. I expect he wants some peace and quiet in which to paint. He is a reasonable artist in his own right, you know.’

  ‘No, I did not know that.’ Mirabella pondered upon that intelligence. ‘It must be both an advantage and a disadvantage, possessing artistic talent and having such a famous father. If his own art is acclaimed everyone will say it is only because of his father’s influence. If it is not, everyone will say how unfortunate it is that a man who grew up with such a wonderful mentor cannot make a better fist of things.’

  ‘My, you are in a philosophical frame of mind today, but I agree with you. His father’s talent is both a blessing to him and a curse.’

  ‘Miss Fleming is quite the most ravishing creature I have ever seen,’ Mirabelle said reflectively, ‘but I don’t think she has a very pleasant character. She looked ready to explode with anger when you and Mr Tyrell appeared from the terrace together. She had only just walked into your mama’s drawing room, was the centre of attention and must have known that every eye in the room was drawn to her. You would think she’d keep her reactions under better control in such circumstances.’

  ‘If she thinks she has anything to fear from me then she cannot be very confident in her hold over Mr Tyrell.’

  ‘I don’t believe she is. I suspect that she found a reason to come to Derbyshire because she doesn’t trust him.’ Mirabelle giggled. ‘Given how long he spent outside with you, perhaps we cannot altogether blame her.’

  ‘Mira!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Mirabelle replied, looking mischievous rather than sorry. ‘However, lack of trust is not a good foundation upon which to base a marriage. So perhaps he would be better advised to marry you.’

  Susie sighed. ‘I would not have him if he asked me.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Mirabelle elevated a delicately arched brow. ‘Why ever not? Don’t you like him? Well, I know that you do,’ she said, not giving Susie an opportunity to respond. ‘He is quite the most fascinating gentleman to come to this part of the world for some considerable time. If it were not for my devotion to your brother, you might find yourself with competition for Mr Tyrell’s regard.’

  ‘That situation will never arise,’ Susie replied, avoiding a direct answer. ‘Him asking me to marry him, I mean. Anyway,’ she added, gathering up her possessions. ‘I rode out early because I couldn’t sleep but I expect Mama is up by now and wonders what has becom
e of me. I had best get back. Shall we see you at Pemberley on Saturday?’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.’

  ‘I shall make sure that Mama invites Mr Albright as well,’ Susie said, laughing at Mirabelle’s expression as she kissed her friend and took her leave.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘What now?’ Dawlish asked as he and James finished their ale, reclaimed their horses and returned to Hillgate House. A slight drizzle fell, spoiling what had started out to be a fine spring day. James was so preoccupied that he barely noticed the inconvenience.

  ‘That, my friend, is a very good question. We urgently need to discover the identity of the forger who, my instincts tell me, is still definitely somewhere in the vicinity. It’s an inspirational backdrop for an artist.’ James glanced at the magnificent peaks as he pushed Gladiator into a trot. The drizzle eased off as quickly as it had begun and shafts of weak sunshine reflected off the open landscape. ‘Secluded and out of the way and the last place we would look for a forger even if we became suspicious that one existed. Were it not for Bevan’s inability to prevent himself from selling off a few forgeries to gullible marks whilst he was here, we would be none the wiser as to his location.’ He sent Dawlish a mirthless smile. ‘Greed has been more than one ambitious cove’s undoing.’

  ‘Bevan didn’t come here with the specific intention of selling forgeries?’

  ‘Very likely not. One does not draw attention to one’s own backyard.’

  ‘Then why was he here?’

  James shrugged. ‘We shall ask him when we run him to ground. But if I had to guess I would say that his journey with the Nesbits was genuine.’

  Dawlish nodded. ‘He probably needed to consult with the forger, or with Covington, so persuaded his aunt and uncle to break their journey with their friends, the Gaunts.’

  ‘It’s what I would do in his position. Go back this afternoon and have a chat with Sir Robert’s grooms. See if they remember the man, if he made any journeys at odd times of the day or night and, if so, whether they knew where he went. Grooms almost always know more than one supposes and if he went out at an unusual time, they will recall.’

 

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