"If you had been left with any head at all."
"Yes, well, that is one of my parts that I would like to see stay attached where it is, even if you do not seem to think it contains anything of value within it."
"I... I thought we were going to try to avoid provoking each other."
"Ah, but I cannot help finding you... most provocative, Miss Hadley."
"Lord Sheffield—" she began
He held up a gloved hand. "Pray, don't fly up into the boughs. I am just teasing you." As they came to a wrought iron bench framed on three sides by a tall boxwood hedge, he paused. "It appears we might have a bit of privacy here."
Augusta was intensely aware of the heat from his muscled thigh as he took a seat beside her. Good Lord, she chided herself, what was wrong with her that she was blushing and stuttering and making a fool of herself like some flighty schoolroom miss? She opened her reticule with a decided snap and began to rummage through its contents.
"Getting right down to business again, I see." His arm had come up to rest on the back of the bench and she could feel the brush of the soft wool against the silk of her gown.
"Why else would we be out here?" she snapped. Her fingers finally found the folded sheets of paper and handed them over. He slipped them into his coat pocket but made no move to rise.
Augusta brushed at a stray curl that had fallen near her cheek. "I have been thinking a good deal about who might wish you harm, sir. Do you still believe we may eliminate disgruntled husbands or lovers?"
The Earl nodded.
"Well, that should narrow the field of suspects considerably," she said dryly.
He choked down a bark of laughter.
"I assume you don't cheat at cards or welch on your vowels, so we can ignore that line of inquiry as well. So, the most obvious thing is to assume that your recent speeches may have done more than ruffle a few feathers."
There was a gleam of grudging approval in his eyes. "That's very astute of you, Miss Hadley. I'm impressed by the power of your logic."
"I should hope I am not quite as witless as you have been wont to think," she mumbled, once again chiding herself for letting a casual compliment throw her insides in a tizzy, as if she were no more that the greenest of girls rather than an over the hill bluestocking.
"It's been some time since I thought that," he replied softly. His expression turned rather inscrutable before he went on. "I must admit that I have come to the same conclusion—unless, of course, the stone was meant for you."
She started. "For me?"
"I am not trying to frighten you, merely point out that if you continue to break into houses, purloin papers and the like, someone may take it amiss. As you said this afternoon, this investigation of yours could turn out to be very dangerous."
"I am aware of the risks involved, my lord. But I don't frighten easily."
"No, I don't imagine you do." There was a brief pause. "Now, let me exercise my own intuitive powers, if I may. Since the odds of our chance encounter being simple coincidence seems slim, I must assume that certain evidence has led both of us to suspect the same man."
Augusta gave a slight nod. "Go on."
"Well, as that is the case, perhaps it would be more efficient if one of us takes over from here, keeping the other person informed, of course, as to what information is discovered—"
"That ‘someone' being yourself?"
"Well, er, yes." He shifted slightly. "However, you would have to tell me exactly what crime you suspect the gentleman we seek is guilty of, and why, so that I may know just what it is I am trying to help you prove."
She thought for a moment. "What sort of crime do you think him guilty of?"
The Earl sidestepped the question. "I am looking into his affairs at the behest of a ... friend."
"Why?" she persisted.
He drew in a breath. "I am not at liberty to say right now." He forbore to add it was because he did not know the full details himself. "You are not the only one who wishes to be careful in this matter."
"So you are offering to take all the risks and share with me what you learn?"
"Yes, I suppose I am."
"Once again, I must ask why." The corners of her mouth crooked upward. "It is not as if we are even... friends, sir."
"No, but as I have told you, Edwin and I were."
At the mention of her brother's name, Augusta's throat suddenly became very tight. "I—" The crunch of gravel and the faint trill of laughter warned of the approach of another couple. "I must think on it"
"Do."
She got quickly to her feet. "We had best be getting back, lest people begin to get the wrong idea."
He rose as well, a slight smile on his face. "Afraid your reputation shall end up shredded by the gossips?"
"Oh, it is not my reputation I am worried about, my lord, it's yours," she said over her shoulder as she started up the path. "Imagine how much your consequence would suffer at your clubs and other.... establishments if word were to get out that you'd been keeping company with an aging antidote."
Marianne scrunched up her face in a scowl.
"Don't do that," murmured Augusta. "You'll end up with wrinkles around your eyes, just like Mrs. Winslow."
"Mrs. Winslow has been making that face for nearly sixty years, so I imagine I have a good way to go before I need fear such a dire consequence." She kept her gaze riveted on Augusta and closed the book in her lap. "You are keeping something from me, Gus. And don't say you aren't, for you know I can always tell."
Augusta squirmed slightly under her sister's scrutiny. "It's not anything you need concern yourself with. Really." She cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation away from her recent behavior. "Did you enjoy last night? Viscount Andover seemed particularly attentive and—"
Her sister let out a single word.
"I, er, wasn't aware you were familiar with that expression."
"You weren't the only one to overhear Edwin when he was angry." Marianne's scowl deepened. "And don't try to change the subject. I want you to tell me whatever it that has you muttering under your breath more than usual. Maybe I can be of some help."
Augusta gave a reluctant laugh that turned into a wry grimace. "The Earl of Sheffield for one thing."
"I thought the two of you had agreed to stay at arm's length."
"I'm afraid we have lately been a good deal closer than that," she murmured, a warmth stealing over her on recalling the feel of his muscled limbs and the faint, woodsy scent of his lean cheek.
Marianne stared at her with dawning horror. "Good heavens! You aren't going to tell me that the other night was no accident and it was you who beaned him with the paving stone?"
"Of course not! I would never stoop to such a cowardly act."
"Actually that's right. You would face him square on and hurl it dead at his forehead."
"I wouldn't miss, either. But in this case, it really was an... accident." She began to fiddle with the pen on her desk. "Besides, he is...." Her words cut off abruptly. "Lamb, I really think it is best if you pay no attention to what is on my mind and go about enjoying your Season." A fond smile flitted over her lips. "It's clear you shall have your choice of—"
The spine of the leatherbound volume nearly split in two as it bounced off the floor. "Why, that's quite the most odious thing you've ever said to me in your life!" cried Marianne with some vehemence, springing to her feet and almost toppling the delicate gilt chair into the fire in the process. The shade of crimson mottling her cheeks was a perfect match of the embroidered cherries on the sash of her stylish day gown. In truth, the gown would have looked even more elegant had a good deal of it not been scrunched within two fists." That you would tell me to run along and play while you are faced with a difficult problem is outside of enough. I'm eighteen, not eight, and while I'm not as learned as you, I am not entirely lacking in wits. Let me help."
Augusta's face was ashen. "You know I didn't mean it that way," she said in a shaky voice. "What
I meant was, I don't want to involve you in something that could prove... dangerous in any way. If my reputation suffers, it hardly matters, but I should never forgive myself if I caused any hurt to you." Her mouth quirked slightly upward. "And neither would Mama."
Her sister appeared a bit mollified by the explanation, but she continued to pace up and down in front of the hearth. "You needn't be like everyone else and treat me like a piece of delicate china. I'll not chip or crack at the slightest knock." Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "And just what did you mean by ‘dangerous' and harmful?' Now that I think on it, Jamison has been going about with an air of martyrdom that usually means you have done something particularly outrageous. Just what have the two of you been up to?"
Augusta hesitated.
"Out with it. And don't forget the part about Lord Sheffield."
"Sheffield! How did you know about—" She bit her lip at the triumphant gleam in her sister's eye. "Lord, since when did you learn to extract information in such a devious, underhanded fashion?"
Marianne repressed a smug smile. "Why, since watching you in action. Anyway, it was hardly difficult to guess that something was going on. First you are going at it with him like cats and dogs, then suddenly he is calling on you for afternoons drives, and escorting you for lengthy walks in moonlight gardens. You have to admit, it looks extremely havey cavey."
"Maybe he is smitten with my person."
"Well, I admit that could be a distinct possibility. But what made me suspicious was not his actions, but yours. You actually agreed to go with him."
A burble of laughter escaped Augusta's lips. "I shall never underestimate your deductive reasoning again." A sigh followed. "Very well. I suppose I had better tell you the whole of it."
The lengthy story was interrupted by more than a few exclamations, accompanied by a battery of dark looks. "I can't believe you fobbed me off with that story about a headache," exclaimed Marianne when it was finished. "I should have known!" She gave her skirts another yank as she turned to face the desk. "Were you truly not going to tell me about those papers you took?"
"Well..."
"How could you think of concealing their existence from me! You know I was of some help in putting together the list in the first place. Let me see what I can make of them."
"I can't." As her sister's mouth fell open to protest, she explained, "I gave them to Sheffield."
"Oh." A speculative look came to Marianne's cornflower blue eyes. "I see."
Augusta gave a slight cough. "Well, he was actually rather helpful in the library. And since the information I need to learn now can be obtained much easier by a gentleman, I suppose I may as well try to make some use of the Earl."
"I see."
"I mean, he has shown he isn't put off by a few little knocks and scratches, and it also seems that he is not entirely lacking in sense."
"I see."
"Stop saying that," she muttered while making a show of rearranging the papers on her desk.
Her sister turned to hide the slight smile that crept across her delicate features. "I must say, I am glad that you have finally discovered that a handsome, titled gentlemen may be of some use. He waltzes quite nicely, too."
Augusta's face turned not quite as red as the cherries, but close. The muttering under her breath was barely audible, but the sound of the pen snapping in her fingers made a distinct crack. "Does he? I hadn't noticed."
It was Marianne's turn to laugh. "Now don't fly up in the boughs. I am just teasing you."
"Yes, well, everyone seems to have taken a notion to do that lately. I wonder why that is?"
"Perhaps it is because you tend to be so serious all the time. There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself once in a while Gus. Like when you are dancing with an attractive gentleman."
Augusta tried to banish all thoughts of the Earl's long fingers pressed at the small of her back, the breadth of his shoulders and the flash of his intriguing eyes. "I have a lot to be serious about," she said in a low voice. "There are still three missing children, and more likely to suffer unless we can learn for sure who is to blame."
CHAPTER EIGHT
".... So that is what I think of the Earl of Sheffield's latest speech. I should like to hear your opinion, though I fear that for some reason, you still look at his efforts in a harsh light. Perhaps you have been listening to rumors rather than his actual words...." He paused, realizing he was in danger of revealing too much, and after a moment's reflection, quickly finished off that train of thought..... My experience, especially lately, has been that outer appearance may fool you. But enough on that. Though you have cried off on our correspondence for a time, I am hoping that you might choose to confide in me a bit more concerning your investigation. I have made some further discoveries on my own, but it is difficult to judge their significance until I know the whole." He paused again, pen hovering above the thick vellum. "Even if you choose not to trust me, I am hoping you might consent to dashing off a quick note just to let me know you are well. You know, with your sage advice, gentle criticism and quiet encouragement, you have become the truest friend I have. Quite simply, my dear Firebrand, I miss our comfortable talks and hope they may resume soon."
A simple signature was scrawled across the bottom of the page, then the letter was set aside on a silver tray. The writer continued to stare at it, lost in deep thought, until the gilt clock on the mantel began to chime the hour. Jarred out of his reverie, Sheffield took several other sheets of folded paper from his desk drawer and tucked them into the pocket of his bottle green evening coat. After sending word for his coach, he rose and left from the room.
The Flaversham ball was, as might be expected, a great crush, given the family's wealth and position in Society. That Lady Flaversham was also known for her imaginative decorations and sumptuous suppers only made it more difficult than usual to negotiate the crowd seeking to make its way up the circular marble staircase. The Earl was tempted to turn and retreat to the quiet of his club, for this was just the sort of evening he had come to consider tedious in the extreme. But he had promised he would be there.
His eyes began to scan the perimeter of the room, knowing he would be likely to find her seated with the aging mamas and retiring chaperones. Or hidden behind some damn pot of greenery. Somehow the thought of that caused a faint twitch of his lips. Miss Hadley was certainly a most unusual young lady, with a knack of turning up in the most unexpected places.
A flash of teal caught his eye. The willowy shape moved in a quick graceful arc past his nose, but not before he recognized the shape of the cheek, the wheaten color of the hair.
Damnation! The chit said she never danced. What was she doing out there?
He watched her circle the floor with her partner, his mood growing darker by the moment even as he was forced to admit that her movements were a pleasure to watch. In fact, he couldn't seem to pry his gaze away from her long neck and creamy shoulders, bared by yet another lovely gown that took every inch of advantage of her magnificent body. And neither could he ignore the firm hand cupping her slender fingers or the well-formed chest leaning in much too close to her breasts.
"Good Lord, Sheff, what was that you just said?"
"Nothing," he growled, turning to face his friend.
Hobart stifled a grin. "Best remember we're not in some gaming hell or other establishment. Here the females would faint dead away at hearing such language."
"Hah," he remarked under his breath, his eyes for a moment stealing back to sight of Augusta in the arms of her partner.
"What has you in such a pucker? Some encroaching Mama try to corner you with her young innocent?" He shook his head. "Though I can't imagine any of them would have the nerve to try that on you."
The Earl didn't answer.
"Come, what say we roll that black look off your face with an evening of dice at the tables, followed by a visit to a new place I've discovered off St. James's." He lowered his voice to a discreet whisper. "The ladies are as
skilled as they are lovely—it will not be your face that is growing longer by the second once we get there."
"I have some matters to attend to here."
Hobart pursed his lips. "You know, Sheff, forgive me for saying so but you've been acting deucedly strange of late. What has happened to your sense of adventure, your devil may care attitude? Why, we used to always be able to count on you to come up with some crazy scheme or other."
"Have no fear," he muttered. "I am not only still crazy, I think I may be insane." The music had come to an end. Leaving his friend looking thoroughly perplexed, the Earl walked off toward a quite nook near the card room.
A Lady of Letters Page 11