Returning to his chair behind the desk, Daniel shook his head. He was about to take another drag on the cheroot when he realized it had burned to a nub and was nearly out. He stubbed it into the crystal tray at the edge of the desk. “Then what happened to cause your unflappable horse to ... flap?” he asked. His patience was growing thin. He wasn’t even sure why he brought up the topic of David’s death except that it had seemed ... important, he supposed. Important to discover how the accident had happened – if it had been an accident. And, if not, then it was even more important to determine who killed David and why they would want the earl dead. Perhaps David would finally disappear for good once the truth of his death was revealed.
At the moment, Daniel realized he wanted David gone so that he could get on with his own life. Get on with a life that he was now sure would include Clarinda. He’d nearly convinced himself he hated her for choosing his brother over him all those years ago, but she really had been confused as to whom she was marrying. Yes, she had despised him over their argument, but now that she knew for herself he’d been telling the truth all along, she had come around. And now they would marry. Over time, she’d realize Daniel was the better husband – and father – once he’d had a chance to prove himself to her.
“Thunder didn’t flap,” David said with a shake of his head.
“You said he reared up ...”
“He did, but he did because ...” David paused, his expression indicating he was thinking back to the moment when his horse had suddenly reared up. “Because he was trotting along and ...”
Daniel stared at his brother, intrigued at the look of him as he seemed to recall the details. Even his hands were posed as if they held the reins, his shoulders positioned square to the saddle, his head held up. For a moment, Daniel was sure he heard the sound of horse hooves clopping on cobbles.
“And?” Daniel encouraged, hoping his brother hadn’t lost his train of thought.
“It was a child,” David murmured, as if he was still deep in thought. “Curly red hair. Adorable, although rather filthy now that I think about it,” he whispered. “She looked like I imagined one of my daughters would look. Like a small version of Clare with her blue-green eyes and soft skin.” There was another pause as he continued to stare into the space just beyond the front of his face. Daniel watched him, mesmerized by his brother’s recall of the events of the day he had bit the dust, so to speak. “She ran out in front of the horse, and I had to pull back on the reins.” He did so in mime, his expression indicating instant anger at having to halt his horse so quickly to avoid trampling the moppet. “She’d been chasing a ball, and Thunder stepped on it ...”
Daniel’s inhaled sharply. “The ball popped.”
“Sounded just like a gunshot,” David murmured. “And the girl’s eyes turned angry and ... she cried out. She yelled at me! Just like Clare does when she’s playing at being a volcano.” Here, he stopped, his eyes indicating he must have felt more frightened by the girl’s outburst than by the thought that he might have flattened her with his horse.
An understandable reaction, Daniel thought, having been the target of one of Clarinda’s volcanic eruptions. Besides, her ball had just had popped.
“She pointed her finger up at me, accusing me ... And then I was seeing sky and clouds and the top of the dome above Lord Barrings’ apartment, where he had the flag waving to indicate he was in residence. As if everyone in London cares whether or not Lord Barrings is in residence!”
Daniel had to stifle the urge to groan, knowing exactly what David meant by the comment but wanting him to get on with the story.
But David’s voice had trailed off, as if the memory had done the same. When he didn’t say anything for a moment or two, Daniel inhaled and slowly exhaled. “You must have hit your head on something on the way down, Davy. What was it?” he asked gently, not wanting his brother to lose his place in his recollection.
He watched as David began to contort his body, his head back, his spine arching as if he was falling backwards off his horse. And his brother turned himself around and stared into space behind where he’d been standing. “Lord Everly,” he murmured.
“Lord Everly?” Daniel repeated.
“The name on the crate.”
Daniel’s eyebrows cocked up so they were very nearly into his hairline. “The crate?”
“Yes. The crate in the back of the cart that had just crossed at Berwick Street on it’s way south. It was right behind me,” David murmured.
“Oh?”
“It had the words ‘Live fish’ stenciled on it.” David’s head turned sideways again, as if he was trying to read something upside down. “Cape Horn, Africa.” He slowly straightened, his head shaking back and forth very slowly.
“You hit your head on a crate? On a crate containing Lord Everly’s tropical fish?” Daniel half-questioned.
David suddenly seemed himself again, alert but solemn. “I always said those fish would be the death of me,” he said with a bit too much bravado.
Daniel blinked. “You hit your head on a crate containing Lord Everly’s tropical fish?” Daniel repeated, his own mouth doing a fine imitation of a goldfish’s mouth.
David nodded, his shoulders slumping suddenly. “Indeed,” he whispered, his head barely nodding. Then, as if nothing of import had just happened, he lifted his head and regarded his younger brother, “Well, I’m off. Take care of Clare and the girls, won’t you, Danny?” he said quietly as he turned around. He disappeared before he made it out of the room.
Stunned, Daniel stared after his brother’s ghost. “I will,” he answered to the thin air.
Chapter 27
Fish Tales
Dressed entirely in black, Clarinda entered the vestibule of Norwick House followed by Lady Torrington. The older woman’s moss green carriage gown and pelisse might hide the signs of her pregnancy for another month or two, but from where Daniel watched from the railing at the top of the stairs, the glow that surrounded Clarinda instantly gave away her condition. She was the epitome of impending motherhood. He felt a clenching in his chest at the sight of her, an immediate desire to descend the stairs by riding on the bannister as he had once done as a boy on the staircase at Norwick Park so that he might scoop her up into his arms and twirl her about the room. Thinking back to the morning she’d been sick, he quickly suppressed the thought and instead remained where he stood, watching and listening, not the least bit ashamed of eavesdropping on the two women.
“Thank you for talking me into the ride and the visit to the bookseller,” Clarinda said as she removed her large-brimmed hat and veil. “It does me good to get air every day.” She carried her reticule and a wrapped package – a book about the condition of expecting a baby – to the table just beyond the vestibule.
With Porter’s help, Lady Torrington divested herself of her pelisse. “You’re very welcome. I must say, the last person I expected to see in the book shop was Lord Everly.”
Clarinda smiled. “And yet I would expect to find him in no other place. Well, except for his own library, I suppose,” she countered with a grin.
Adele shook her head. “True. I meant that I thought he would be gone on his next expedition by now. I do believe this is the longest he’s stayed in London since he reached his majority.”
At the mention of Lord Everly, Daniel leaned his elbows on the railing and listened more closely.
Clarinda turned to regard Adele with a look of surprise. “I thought you would know why,” she said, hinting there was a reason Everly was still in town.
“What makes you say that?” the earl’s wife replied, her brows furrowing.
“Rumor has it he has to see to a marriage for his sister before he can leave on another trip or your husband will apparently cause him great bodily harm.”
Adele rolled her eyes. “Oh. Tha
t’s already taken care of. In fact, Lady Evangeline is set to become Lady Sommers,” she murmured, shaking her head as she allowed a smile. “I was rather surprised she didn’t mention it today, but in all the excitement with the fish ...” She allowed the statement to trail off as she gave a slight shrug.
“She’s already betrothed?“ Clarinda asked in surprise. I’ve only been gone a few days. The last she’d heard, the girl wasn’t even being courted by anyone, although she remembered Adele saying something about Lord Sommers’ interest in the chit.
“Can you imagine being her and having to rely on Everly to find a husband? I think I would prefer spinsterhood,” Adele said with a shake of her head. “My husband – he’s the girl’s godfather – took care of it. Told Sommers to take her for a drive, ask to court her, ask for her hand, and acquire a ring. All in that one day. His thirtieth birthday. And the man did it!”
Astonished at this news, Clarinda blinked. “I take it Lord Everly ... agreed with the arrangements?” she wondered.
The air seemed to go out of Adele just then. “I don’t think he was even aware of the situation until after his sister agreed to accept Lord Sommers’ suit,“ she replied uncertainly.
“Lord Everly is an odd duck, but I cannot fault his enthusiasm,” Clarinda said, moving from the vestibule toward the parlor door. “And I think Lord Sommers will make a fine match for her. I admit I was surprised when Everly mentioned him as his first choice for his sister, but it makes perfect sense. The man apparently said he wanted to marry whilst playing cards at White’s. All his friends are leg-shackled.”
Daniel moved along the railing so he could keep Clarinda in sight as long as possible. “I do wonder, though, who he will decide to marry when he must. Can you imagine having him as a husband?”
Adele Grandby’s musical laughter drifted up the stairs. “I am sure there is a biddable bluestocking that will love him as much as he will tolerate her,” she replied with a wave of her hand as she disappeared into the parlor. Daniel could imagine Clarinda ringing for tea. He descended the stairs, keeping his attention on the door to the parlor.
“A bluestocking would be perfect for him,” Clarinda claimed, trying to decide if she knew any of the younger debutantes who found books more intriguing than fashion plates. “He’ll require someone who loves those fish just as much as he does, though. I must admit, those large, white triangular ones he pointed out were rather beautiful. What did he call them?” she wondered, one eyebrow arched up as she tried to recall what the viscount had said.
“Angel fish,” Adele replied, settling herself into a Chippendale chair and letting out a sigh. “He received them not even ten days ago.” She held her breath for a moment when she realized the day the fish were delivered to Everly House was the same day as David’s death. “They were quite taken with you, as well,” she murmured, not wanting to remind Clarinda of David’s passing. She hadn’t seen her friend cry since her return from Sussex.
Clarinda giggled. “Because they nearly drowned me?” she wondered, taking a seat in the chair in front of the tea table. She spread out her skirts, apparently to determine if the bombazine fabric displayed any water stains. The wave of water that had crashed over the top edge of Lord Everly’s fish tank had soaked one side of her gown, although the dampness hadn’t seeped through her petticoats. “They did the same to David when he was last there. He claimed the water ruined his favorite russet riding coat.” She recalled when she’d last seen him wearing that very topcoat – when he was riding that morning in Hyde Park while she and Adele were climbing into the carriage after their walk.
Clarinda’s mention of David was made without a tinge of sadness, a fact Adele found intriguing and a bit of a relief. She gave the countess a grin in return. “Until today, I do not believe I have ever seen fish pay any notice while people were looking at them.”
Giving a wan smile, Clarinda shrugged. “It was as if they knew me – swam right over and waved their fins.” Clarinda lifted one hand above her head and another to one side, waving them in imitation of the angel fish’s movements.
Adele laughed aloud just as Daniel made it to the side of the door. Peeking around the opening, he watched as Clarinda imitated the fish that had apparently waved at her. He smiled at her antics. They were probably the fish that killed David, he thought suddenly, remembering the words that David had said were stenciled on the crate his head hit on his way down to the cobbles. Killed by angel fish, he thought with a shake of his head.
At least they had the decency to pay their respects to Clarinda.
He was thinking of going in to greet the ladies but noticed Rosie rolling the tea cart toward the parlor. He nodded in her direction as if he was merely passing by the room and then turned around, hoping to overhear more about Lord Everly’s fish.
“I believe you were out of earshot when Lord Everly made mention that he’s never seen his fish react as they did to you today,” Adele said with a cocked eyebrow. “Made me wonder if he was thinking of you for the role of Lady Everly.”
Daniel straightened himself against the hall wall outside the parlor, his breath held in disbelief, stunned at what he’d overheard. Had the women been to Everly’s house just today?
“Adele!” Clarinda scolded as she saw to the tea service. “I do not believe I could abide being married to a man who spends most of his time in jungles when he’s not in residence and then with his nose in a book when he is,” she admonished her friend.
A sense of relief settled over Daniel as he heard Clarinda’s words. Under no circumstances would he abide Clarinda ever marrying Lord Everly – or anyone else, for that matter. He crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to eavesdrop on the ladies, and suddenly started when Rosie came through the doorway on her way back to the kitchens.
“Good day,” he murmured, acting as if he’d paused by the door to allow her an exit. At that point, he couldn’t hide his presence from the women in the parlor. Clarinda was already glancing in his direction, looking as if she was about to stand up. “Please do not get up on my account, my lady,” he said as he paused on the threshold. “Good afternoon, Lady Torrington,” Daniel added as he moved into the room and afforded them both a deep bow.
Adele, still amused by her conversation with Clarinda, gave him a glance from head to foot. “Norwick, you are looking well, although a bit peaked, perhaps,” she commented. “As if you’ve seen a ghost,” she added, her head cocking to one side.
Daniel blinked, daring a quick glance in Clarinda’s direction. She was holding the edge of her teacup to her bottom lip, her eyes suddenly wide. She gave him a quick shake of her head, as if to let him know she hadn’t mentioned David’s ghost to Adele Grandby.
“Probably because I have not yet resumed regular outdoor activities since my brother’s death.” Nor started any of the indoor activities I plan to engage in now that he’s dead, he thought to himself, the color returning to his face in a flash.
“Do join us for tea, Daniel,” Clarinda invited, motioning with her hand toward the chair David usually used when he was in the parlor.
Daniel nodded his acknowledgement of the invitation but took the chair adjacent to David’s. “I could not help but overhear Lord Everly’s name mentioned as I entered. Did you perchance pay a call on the explorer?” he wondered, accepting a cup of tea from Clarinda. Two ladies – one married and one widowed and neither one a relative – calling on an unmarried gentleman at his residence wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence. Some might think it scandalous, in fact.
The two women exchanged knowing glances. They weren’t about to allow Daniel to believe the worst of them. “His sister, Lady Evangeline, is in residence, poor girl,” Adele replied with a shake of her head. “When Lord Everly saw us shopping for books in The Temple of the Muses, he asked us to pay her a call.”
Daniel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “L
ady Evangeline? You mean, she isn’t ..?” He was about to say ‘married’, but thought better of it when Clarinda shook her head ever so slightly.
“Her brother had been left to find her a suitable husband,” Adele said with the kind of sigh in her voice that made the task sound as if it might never get done. “At three-and-twenty, some might consider her on the shelf.”
Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I hardly think three-and-twenty makes for spinsterhood,” he countered. “From what I remember, she was quite pretty and rather accomplished considering her age.”
Clarinda felt a pang of jealousy at hearing his simple words, wondering if he was considering more than Lady Evangeline’s age. “Who do you know who would consider her biddable?” she wondered, hoping to get his mind on other gentleman wanting to marry the chit so that he would stop considering her. If, indeed, that was what he was doing.
Daniel shrugged, not sure how to respond. He hadn’t been back in London long enough to know who, if anyone, was in the market for a wife. Besides Wallingham, although Daniel still couldn’t believe his mother would be the man’s wife – ever – even if the rake had given her a ring with a rock so large it probably caused his mother to walk with a limp when she wore it. “I understand Lord Sommers is interested,” he said as if he had personal knowledge of the man’s intentions. “He must be thirty by now and in need of an heir,” he added, taking a good deal of satisfaction in seeing the delighted faces of the two women in the room. Apparently they, too, believed Lord Sommers was agreeable as a husband for Lady Evangeline.
“Grandby has already seen to it. Lord Sommers asked for Lady Evangeline’s hand only a few days ago,” Lady Torrington stated with a kind of pride one might exhibit when a son or daughter had done something wonderful. “Milton takes his godfather duties quite seriously.”
The Widowed Countess Page 26