Why Earls Fall in Love

by Manda Collins

  Schooling her features to amusement, she said, “Listen to us. The gentlemen are going to begin teasing us for being silly romantics any moment.”

  “Did someone say ‘silly romantics’?” Con said from across the carriage. “You know I cannot bear to hear Mr. Wordsworth’s reputation besmirched, my dear.”

  “Bah,” Archer said with a shudder. “Do not tell me you find him superior to Coleridge. Now there’s a poet with imagination. Give me Xanadu and ‘Kubla Khan’ before yet another poem of the beauties of nature any day.”

  And thus they were launched into a discussion of poetry until they reached the landscape surrounding Farley Castle. Clearly they were not the only people in Bath to have the idea for a picnic that afternoon, and to avoid the other visitors, they followed the path leading to a stream marking the boundary of Farley estate.

  “Here’s a likely spot,” Con called from where he’d walked on ahead, carrying the picnic basket with him. The others agreed and within minutes they were all seated on the blanket Archer had carried from the carriage, their luncheon feast spread out before them. Fruit, bread, cheese, baked chicken, and raspberry tarts were eaten with relish along with wine from a small decanter. When they had all eaten their fill, amid pleasant chatter, Georgie packed the remains of the meal back into the basket and set it aside.

  “I cannot fault Lady Russell’s cook,” Archer said, stretching his arms over his head. “But I must admit that what I long for more than anything is a nap.”

  “Here,” Con said, tossing him a shiny red apple. “This will help keep you alert while we discuss things.” He himself moved to sit with his back against the large elm tree they’d chosen for its shade. “Now, ladies, I believe you have something to tell me about some letters?”

  Holding her hat against the wind that was trying to send it flying away, Georgie exchanged a look with Perdita, who gestured for Georgie to begin. “We have already spoken of what happened to Lady Isabella, or rather the Duchess of Ormond, last year. Well, what we did not tell you, Con—for Lord Archer knows by dint of his presence in the Ormond household when it began—is that both Perdita and I received letters shortly after Isabella’s tormentor was captured. And when Isabella was being taunted, she also received letters that we later discerned had not come from the person who was conducting the campaign against her in person, as it were.”

  “So,” Con said thoughtfully, “it was similar to what happened with Lowther and Mrs. Kendrick, in that someone else was directing their movements?”

  “Yes,” Georgie said firmly. “It was as if whoever was controlling the business couldn’t help but add his own threats into the mix. Which to my mind is rather foolish, because if he stayed out of things, no one would know about his involvement at all. And the people he had performing his dirty work would have been blamed for it.”

  “It is curious,” Archer said, biting into his apple. “It’s almost as if the fellow cannot stand being left out. Reminds me of a land steward my father used to employ. The man couldn’t delegate to save his life. He’d send one of the gardeners off to trim some hedges and before you knew it Hixton was out there trimming them himself because he couldn’t trust them to get the thing done right.”

  “It’s a thought,” Con agreed, drawing one knee up before him. “May I see the letters?”

  Georgie and Perdita nodded. Georgie removed the reticule from her wrist and loosened the drawstring to remove the bundle of letters. “These are mine.”

  “And these,” Perdita said, removing her own bundle of letters from her reticule, “are mine.”

  “So you’ve received two more than the duchess at this point,” Con said, comparing Georgie’s large stack to Perdita’s smaller one. “Is that because you’re in the midst of the campaign of terror, so to speak? Whereas the duchess’s has yet to begin?”

  “When you put it like that it sounds so…” Perdita paused, looking a little pale. “Inevitable.”

  “I’d like to catch the damned coward,” Archer said vehemently. “I despise waiting around for him to make his next move.”

  “I should like to think we might be able to stop things before they go any further,” Con said with a frown.

  Carefully, he untied the ribbon holding Georgie’s letters together and opened the first one, reading it and then moving on to the next, the next, and the next.

  “So the intention of these letters is to hammer home the idea that whatever you three did to cause the death of the late duke has not been forgotten.”

  “In a nutshell,” Perdita said with a slight frown. “Though anyone who was there that night would know how preposterous it is to assume he was a helpless victim.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Con asked carefully. “It might help me understand the vehemence with which this person regards your guilt—whether it’s justified or not.”

  Abruptly, Perdita rose from the blanket and retrieved her hat, tying it below her chin. “I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said. “But I simply cannot hear the tale recounted again. Perhaps you can tell him about it, Georgie?” And with that she strode away and down toward where the stream cut through the countryside.

  Archer rose and without a backward glance stalked off after her.

  Con turned to Georgie with a raised brow. “I take it that the three of you were responsible for his death? Perhaps while he was in the midst of harming the duchess?”

  Georgie sighed and stared down at her hands. “It’s rather more complicated than that.” And bit by bit, she told him how she and Isabella had found Perdita being brutalized by her husband that night and how he’d ultimately threatened to kill her outright for her disobedience. And how they were all of them, and none of them, responsible for the way his life had ended.

  “Do you carry this pistol with you at all times?” Con asked, his brows knitted. “In your reticule, I mean?”

  At Georgie’s nod, he stared at her in amazement, and then began to laugh.

  “What’s so amusing about it?” she demanded. “I am just as capable a shot as any gentleman.”

  “It’s not that, my dear,” he said with wonder. “It’s that I imagined myself to be some sort of Lochinvar riding to your rescue. Only to discover now that it’s likely you’ll be the one rescuing me should things come to a head.”

  Before she could stop him, he leaned forward and kissed her quite thoroughly. Then regretfully, he pulled back. “I apologize for the public display, but there was no one about. And I find the idea of being rescued quite the novelty.”

  “You’re a very bad man,” she said, though she could not help the grin she feared would tell the story of what was between them more thoroughly than a letter in the tabloids. “I will of course rescue you should the need arise, however.”

  “Thank heavens,” he said with mock relief. Then, sobering he reached out and took her hand in his. “I tease now,” he said, “but do not think for one moment that I don’t regret the fact that you have felt the need to protect yourself and your friends with that pistol. In fact, it makes me quite viciously angry.”

  Georgie squeezed his fingers, her heart full of emotion, as she found herself unable to speak. It was a measure of how much she trusted him that she had even told him of the pistol’s existence. Part of its power was in the element of surprise after all.

  “I will do my best, Georgina,” he said quietly, “to make sure you never have need to use that pistol again.”

  Before she could respond, she heard Perdita calling from where she and Archer were climbing back up from the stream toward them.

  “You’ll never guess, Georgie,” she called. “I bested Lord Archer at skipping stones. Can you imagine? I quite think his masculine pride has been shattered forever.”

  At which point Archer began to argue that skipping stones properly was not even possible in a stream, which moves too swiftly for the stones to get a proper skip going.

  And the moment between Georgie and Con was lost.

  * * *


  When Georgie and Con returned to Lady Russell’s house, it was to find things at sixes and sevens.

  In the drawing room, where Clara sat trying to calm Lady Russell, Con was surprised to see that his aunt’s jewelry chest was sitting open on the table beside her chair.

  “I know I saw them a few days ago,” Lady Russell said, shaking her head tearfully. “The evening I gave Georgina the sapphires.”

  Spotting her companion at Con’s side, the old woman reached out to her. “Georgie, dear,” she said, when Georgina had reached her side. “You recall seeing my diamond and ruby cuff bracelet the other evening, don’t you? I showed it to you and said that it was a piece that wasn’t part of the Russell jewelry and so I’d kept it. You remember, don’t you, my dear?”

  Con could see from the stricken look on Georgina’s face that she didn’t remember the bracelet, and her words only confirmed it. “I am so sorry, my lady,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t remember seeing it that evening. But you must remember that you showed me so many pieces that night. I’m afraid I had difficulty keeping them all straight.”

  The disappointment in his aunt’s face made Con ache for her. His aunt had always prided herself on her sharpness of mind, and if she was unable to recall where she’d put a piece of jewelry then it did not bode well for her state of mind.

  “Could you perhaps have put it somewhere other than your jewelry chest, Aunt?” he asked, allowing Clara to rise and pour his aunt a cup of tea from the tray, before taking her place beside her. “I must admit that I let my valet deal with all my sticks and fobs and whatnot. It’s far too much for me to keep straight.”

  “No,” Lady Russell insisted, her eyes red from tears. “I have always ensured that I kept my things in the chest. My mama was adamant that a lady needed to keep track of her own jewels because one could never be too sure that the servants were honest. Of course, I don’t suspect anyone in my house of dishonesty. I trust my maid and all the rest implicitly. But if the cuff cannot be found, I fear I will have no choice but to have their rooms searched.”

  “Lady Russell,” Georgina said to her employer, “why don’t I go up to your sitting room and search there. It’s where you showed me the jewels that evening and perhaps the cuff fell between some cushions or someplace like that.”

  The gratitude in his aunt’s face made Con vow to thank Georgina for her patience later. His aunt had a tendency to hysteria from time to time, and Georgina clearly knew how best to handle her in moods like this.

  When Georgina was gone, Clara came forward and sat by Lady Russell. “I dispatched Lydia to speak to the housekeeper about conducting a discreet search of the servants’ rooms. I know you dislike doing so, Aunt,” Clara said with a sad smile, “but I’m afraid that sometimes one must take matters like this in hand before they get out of control. The sooner we know that none of them is responsible, the sooner we can figure out where it actually is.”

  “Oh, Clara,” Lady Russell cried in distress, “I do wish you had spoken to me first. I cannot think that any of my people would do such a thing. After all, they’ve been here this whole long while without taking anything. It’s simply foolish to imagine such a thing tempting them at this point.”

  “You don’t know, Aunt,” Con said, trying to reassure her, but preparing her for the possibility that someone she trusted had betrayed her. “Perhaps someone has been forced to pay a debt or developed a gambling habit or some such. It’s not so impossible to imagine someone who indeed holds you in some affection feeling as if there is no other way.”

  “But I hope they know that they can come to me if they have problems such as that,” Lady Russell said sadly. “I thought we were on friendly terms.”

  Georgina returned just then and Con felt his hope erode when he saw her expression. “I’m afraid I didn’t find it, my lady,” she said. “I even looked in your bedchamber and your dressing room and it was in neither of those places. I found only a bit of crimson ribbon and a bunch of dried flowers which appear to have come off a hat. I am sorry.”

  “Do not worry over it, my dear,” Lady Russell said, gripping Georgina’s hand. “I thank you for looking. I do hate the idea that someone took it, but at this point I fear there must be little alternative.”

  A fracas outside the drawing room door, which concluded with a sharp gasp, drew their attention to the doorway, where the housekeeper, her face reflecting her chagrin, stepped forward and stopped before Lady Russell.

  “We’ve located your bracelet, my lady,” she said carefully, her eyes straying to no one else in the room. “I’m afraid we found it in the room of one of the servants.”

  Lady Russell covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, dear,” she said with some degree of upset, “I was so hoping it wouldn’t be one of them.”

  “It’s all right, Lady Russell,” Georgina said, placing a steadying hand on the old woman’s shoulder. “We’ll see to it that the bracelet is returned to you and whoever took it is dismissed.”

  “Who was it?” Lady Russell asked, looking as if she were awaiting a death sentence. “Go ahead and tell me, Mrs. Marks, for I don’t know if I can bear the suspense.”

  Something about the stillness of the housekeeper’s countenance gave Con a bad feeling. And it was with a sense of inevitability that he saw her turn to Georgina. “Begging your pardon, my lady,” the woman said, her words directed to her employer but her eyes on the companion, “we found the cuff in Mrs. Mowbray’s bedchamber.”

  Fifteen

  Georgie had been surprised at certain times in her life, but nothing had ever prepared her for the shock she felt as she heard the housekeeper accuse her of stealing Lady Russell’s diamond and ruby cuff.

  Not only had she not stolen it, but she’d been so focused on soothing her employer’s eviscerated nerves that it had literally never occurred to her that the bracelet might be found in her bedchamber. She was just as shocked as the others in the room. With the possible exception of Mrs. Marks, who had never been Georgie’s greatest advocate.

  “It’s impossible,” Georgie said before she could contemplate the wisdom of speaking at all. “I don’t even recall the bracelet’s existence, so why on earth would I steal it?”

  “Perhaps friendship with duchesses and earls and the like has given you ideas above your station, if you don’t mind my saying so,” the housekeeper said with pursed lips.

  Before Georgie could object, Con snapped, “That’s enough, Marks. That will be all for now.”

  With an insolent curtsy, the housekeeper stalked out of the room, leaving the rest of the occupants in stunned silence.

  Finally, Lady Russell regained her powers of speech. “Why would you take it from me, Georgina?” she said, shaking her head. “I treated you like the daughter I never had. Indeed, I loaned you a necklace worth three times as much as that cuff. Why would you betray me like that?”

  “But I didn’t, Lady Russell,” Georgie said, cut to the quick that even for a moment Lady Russell would believe such a thing of her. “I swear to you I had no notion the cuff even existed before today. And I certainly have no need of the funds. If I wished it—and I did not, mind you—I could have sold the sapphires instead of returning them to you. It makes no sense.”

  She looked to Clara who, to her astonishment, would not meet her eye. “It’s difficult to deny the evidence, Georgina,” Con’s cousin said sadly. “I had thought that you were far too fond of my aunt to ever do something like this, but who’s to say what lengths people will be driven to when they are in need of funds. I daresay your husband’s death left you with a great deal of debt. It’s not an altogether uncommon tale.”

  Georgie tried not to look at Con because if he condemned her as well, she’d be unable to contain the tears gathering behind her eyes. But she couldn’t help herself, and when she saw the set of his jaw she nearly cried out, the pain was so intense. Swallowing and forcing herself to remain calm, she looked at her hands rather than at any of the others. “I�
�ll remove myself from the house at once. I’ll send for my things later. My lady,” she said to Lady Russell, who was weeping openly now. “I thank you for all the kindnesses you have shown me and I hope that should you choose to press charges you will give me the benefit of warning.”

  Holding her head high, she left the room, and still wearing the hat and shawl she’d worn on the picnic that morning, she walked out onto Henrietta Street and headed for Laura Place and Perdita’s town house.

  * * *

  “What the hell is going on here?” Con demanded of Clara after Lady Russell had been put to bed with a tisane for her head. “You know as well as I do that Georgina didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of that bauble. Aside from the fact that she has no need of funds, there’s the fact that she would bite off her right hand rather than betray Aunt Russell’s trust like that.”

  “I vow, I’m as shocked as you are, Coniston,” Clara said with a weary sigh. “But we cannot refute the truth of the matter. The bracelet was found in Mrs. Mowbray’s bedchamber. What further proof do you need?”

  Pacing before the fireplace, Con ran through a mental list of the household’s occupants, searching for one of them who disliked Georgina so much that they would cast suspicion on her like this. But no one immediately came to mind.

  “Whose idea was it for Aunt to look through her jewelry chest today?” he asked. There was something rotten about this entire business. “She has never been particularly interested in her jewels,” he said thoughtfully. “Unless she’s looking for something to wear on a particular occasion, I’ve never known her to be the sort to inventory them once a week.”