The Valentine's Day Ball

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The Valentine's Day Ball Page 17

by Julia Parks


  The robbery by the highwayman hadn’t harmed Jane physically, but it had stunned her emotionally. Devlin would have Pipkin question the footman about the thief’s appearance. If it had been Havelock, the description would be enough—few men were as large as Jane’s cousin. If it had been the footman, Sims, perhaps Mickey could remember some distinguishing mark. Drew felt certain Havelock was connected to the robbery. How else had he found the large sums of money necessary to pay off his gambling debts?

  And the last accident, the one that had come so very close to ending Jane’s life? His own, also, when he had tried to save her. There was no way he could prove Havelock or his henchman had been up there. The best he could do was to ensure that Jane didn’t go to the abbey alone again. She had said she wouldn’t—he would have to believe her and do the best he could to protect her anywhere else.

  And so, at first light, he had sent to Bow Street in London, requesting a discreet Runner, an investigator who would be willing to work privately for some time. Next, he had roused Jane’s lawyer, Mr. Crankshaft. He had explained a great deal to the close-mouthed solicitor before the man had agreed to answer his questions concerning Jane’s heir. In essence, Heartland was up for grabs when Jane died, if she hadn’t produced any offspring. At present, the logical heir was her aunt, Roland Havelock’s mother.

  And Drew had only himself to blame for having set Havelock’s curiosity and greed to work. Heartland was one of the richest estates in England—certainly a prize worth murder, if one had few scruples. And Roland Havelock had never struck him as a particularly scrupulous man.

  Drew watched as Jane’s coachman drove the landau down the long drive to the road. At least her groom was perched up behind. He waited ten more minutes before mounting and turning his horse toward the house.

  “My lord,” said Pipkin, bowing. “Miss Lindsay is from home at the moment.”

  “Yes, I know, Pipkin. Actually, I came to see you. Is there some place we could be private?”

  Pipkin nodded and led the way to the study. Drew knew he had shocked the old man, though Pipkin gave no indication of such. But after Drew’s rather pointed remarks about Jane the day before, perhaps the butler thought he wanted permission to pay his addresses to Jane. But Drew’s amusement was quickly banished as he recalled the serious nature of his visit.

  “I’ll be brief,” he began when the door was closed. “I very much fear someone is trying to kill Miss Lindsay.”

  The butler turned a sickly green and his prim mouth drooped. Drew took the servant’s arm and led him to a chair. He turned, his gaze searching out a decanter of port. He gave a full measure to Pipkin before sitting in front of the butler. Pipkin seemed to have aged before his eyes.

  “Are you all right? Should I send for someone?” Pipkin shook his head and sipped the strong liquid. “I’ve shocked you; I’m sorry. I would say I was mistaken, but the matter is too grave for such weakness.”

  “Please, my lord, I want to hear what you have to say. I’ll be fine. Please continue.”

  “We visited the abbey last Friday on our ride. Just as Miss Lindsay was standing by one of the remaining walls, several huge boulders fell. I managed to push her out of harm’s way. Then I ran up the old steps. Someone had tied a rope around the tower, presumably for a quick escape.”

  “Village children?” asked the butler weakly.

  Devlin shook his head. “Jane thought she heard thunder just before the rocks fell. The sky was clear as a bell. I believe she heard someone pushing the stones that last little bit to make them fall. A child, even a youth, couldn’t have moved those stones. I daresay I would have had trouble. Someone wanted to harm your mistress.”

  “What does Miss Lindsay say about this?”

  “When I suggested such a thing, she became so upset that I dropped the matter entirely. I can understand. She has always been so well-loved in the neighbourhood, she cannot fathom why anyone would wish her harm.”

  “No one would, my lord. I can’t imagine why—”

  “Perhaps in the hopes of obtaining Heartland?” said Lord Devlin quietly.

  “Mr. Havelock!”

  “He is my favourite suspect, but that may be because I do so dislike the man. And how about this Sims that Jane mentioned?”

  “Yes, I can see him involved in such a nefarious scheme. I’ll sack him immediately!”

  “No, you mustn’t, Pipkin. Better the devil we know than one we don’t. If he is here, you can keep an eye on him. Tie his hands, so to speak.”

  “True. But we must do something. Miss Jane, why, she’s…” The butler stood up, his demeanour as proper and unrelenting as ever, despite his misty eyes.

  “I would like to speak to Mrs. Brown, your cook, and also to Miss Lindsay’s maid. Those two, I think, will be our greatest allies.”

  “There is not a body or soul on Heartland who wouldn’t give his life for Miss Lindsay, my lord.”

  “No doubt you’re right, Pipkin. But with all that protection, we would never be able to catch the blackguard. And believe me, I have every intention of catching him.”

  “Amen,” said the butler, bowing his head. “Mrs. Brown sent that Sims fellow out on an errand not thirty minutes ago with Mickey along, so we needn’t worry about him. I think, m’lord, perhaps it would be best if you accompanied me to the cook’s sitting room. Mrs. Brown coming to the study when everyone knows the mistress is out would appear strange. Let me go first. I’ll see to it the scullery maids are busy elsewhere.”

  Moments later, Drew was sitting in a cosy parlour just off the kitchens. There was a tidy desk against one wall, a comfortable chair, and a small sofa in front of the spotless fireplace. Pipkin entered, followed by two middle-aged women. Drew inclined his head to them.

  “Mrs. Brown?”

  The woman dressed in unrelenting black curtseyed and came forward. “Yes, my lord,” she said in a deep, stringent voice.

  “Mrs. Tucker?”

  The other woman curtseyed and smiled. “Your servant, my lord. How may we help you?”

  Devlin felt better already. With such calm, capable people helping, surely they would be able to protect Jane.

  He indicated that they sit on the sofa and chose the chair himself. Pipkin remained by the fireplace.

  “I suppose Pipkin has given you the bare facts, that Miss Lindsay may be in danger, and we must protect her.” They both nodded, their faces filled with determination. “Good, Mrs. Brown. Tell me what you can about the accident in the larder.”

  She flushed at the unhappy memory. “Miss Lindsay was helping sort through last year’s canned goods. Sims was reading the labels on the top shelf while Miss Jane was on the floor, going through the ones on the bottom. I shouldn’t have let her do it. I should have been the one in there.”

  The cook produced a capacious handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Please, Mrs. Brown, you shouldn’t blame yourself. I daresay Miss Lindsay insisted on helping.”

  “Yes, m’lord, she always does,” she sniffed.

  “You say Sims was working on the top shelf?”

  “Yes, and then he left. When Miss Lindsay reached up and grabbed the shelf to right herself, it all came crashing down.”

  “Pipkin, did you look at the wall afterwards?”

  “Indeed I did, my lord.”

  “What did the wall look like? Like the bolts had pulled out?”

  “Why, no, my lord. Now that I think on it, the plaster was as neat as could be. Those bolts must have been loosened!”

  “Perhaps. We should be wary of our Mr. Sims, at the very least. Now, Pipkin, I would like for you to question Mickey about the highwayman’s appearance. If our suspicions are correct, either Sims or Havelock was the robber. Perhaps Mickey noticed something that would give us a clue. Send word to me in town if he can help.”

  “Lord Devlin,” said Mrs. Brown, “I just remembered—when you said Mr. Havelock’s name—he visited Miss Jane some time ago and brought her a box of chocolates.
Miss Jane loves them, but she gave them to me to get rid of them. She always breaks out—”

  “Emily!” said Tucker indignantly.

  “Never mind, Mrs. Tucker,” said Drew, smiling at the maid. “Please go on, Mrs. Brown.”

  “It’s probably nothing, but young Tom—he’s the potboy—he brought in a dead pigeon after I threw the sweets out in the yard. He swore it was the chocolates that killed it.”

  The smile had long since faded from Drew’s face. He looked from one anxious face to another. They waited expectantly for his next words.

  “I wish we had those sweets now; we could have them examined. But we don’t, so it’s still a guessing game. And perhaps I am all about in the head, but I fear I’m all too right. Miss Lindsay must not be left alone where the servant Sims is. Mrs. Brown, you must keep a close eye on any dishes prepared for Miss Lindsay. Once they leave your care, Pipkin will make certain no one tampers with them.”

  “What do you want me to do, m’lord?”

  “I know that Jane relies on you heavily, Mrs. Tucker. You’ve been with her for many years, I understand.”

  “And with her mother before her.”

  “Try to guide Miss Lindsay away from any invitations where she will be out alone at night. Or in the daytime, for that matter. You might suggest that the highwayman is still on the loose, and you would feel better about her if she took an extra footman with a loaded blunderbuss any time she leaves Heartland.”

  “But what about riding? Miss Jane rides every day by herself, all over the estate.”

  “I shall take care of that. I’m hiring someone who will follow her at a discreet distance whenever she goes out alone. When he isn’t there, I will be.

  “Oh, yes, Pipkin. Will you speak to the gamekeeper about the man? I wouldn’t want this fellow getting shot for poaching.”

  “Is there anything else, m’lord?” asked Pipkin.

  “No, just keep your eyes open, and don’t hesitate to send for me if you feel there is the least cause.”

  “Thank you, m’lord. I’m sure we all feel better knowing you are helping.”

  “Believe me, Pipkin, I feel the same about the three of you.”

  b

  Jane and Drew’s mother returned to Bath just in time for tea. As Jane accepted the older woman’s invitation, she wondered if Drew would be present. She had not long to wonder, for there he was in the parlour, his nose in a book. He stood up when he heard them enter.

  “Did you enjoy yourselves, ladies?”

  “It is a beautiful scene, Drew. You should have Jane take you up there sometime,” said Faith, a slight smile curving her lips.

  Drew grinned at his mother. “Perhaps I shall. Thank you for showing Mother the countryside, Jane.”

  “It was my pleasure. And informative for me, also. I learned a great deal about you.”

  “A day of tedium!” He laughed. “Mother, do tell me you didn’t drone on about me the whole time.”

  “I think now would be a good time to go upstairs and refresh myself before tea. Jane?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Good. Oh, Drew, do ring for tea. I won’t be a moment!” Faith winked before gliding from the room.

  “Won’t you sit down, Jane?” Drew walked across the room and pulled the bell.

  “Thank you.”

  He rejoined her on the sofa. “Now, what could Mother possibly have told you about me that was interesting?”

  “Only that you plan to have a go at the government when you become an earl.”

  “Oh, that. Well, I intend to see if I can lend my support where it will do some good. Things aren’t working the way they are now.”

  “I think that’s very noble of you. If only more of the nation’s influential people would take an interest.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. But it may be years before I have a chance to put my plan in force. As mean as my uncle is, I fear he won’t oblige me by dying any time soon.”

  “Drew!”

  “Ah, I have shocked you again. But why should I pretend an affection for a man who has made my life miserable at every turn?”

  “I suppose you’re right, but one simply doesn’t voice such a thought in polite society.”

  “I thought you and I were beyond the polite niceties, Jane,” he said softly.

  Fortunately for Jane, who was transfixed by his steady gaze, the butler entered with the tea tray. Mrs. Peterson followed on his heels.

  After pouring everyone’s tea, Drew’s mother picked up the book he had laid aside: Pride and Prejudice by A Lady.

  “An excellent novel, Mother. Much better than the ordinary drivel, I’m told. You would enjoy it.”

  “I didn’t even know you read novels, Drew,” commented his mother.

  “I haven’t before, but I was given this one and decided to try it.”

  “I read somewhere that the author resides in Bath.” said Jane.

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  “Perhaps you are acquainted with the models for her characters, Jane?” teased Drew.

  “No, I don’t think so. However, I might guess you were the model for Mr. Darcy. If I remember correctly, you would fit his physical description.”

  “Foul, my dear! The novel was written sixteen years prior to its publication date. I was far too young at the time. Do you find me as arrogant as Mr. Darcy?”

  “Not very often, Drew. At least, not as often as I used to do.”

  “Mother! Are you going to allow this?” He laughed.

  “Needs must, my dear. I haven’t read the book. Now, do quit squabbling. It isn’t good for the digestion.”

  “Yes, Mother,” said Drew with mock docility.

  Jane remained longer than the prescribed thirty minutes, owing to the excessively hot temperature of the tea, of course. It took much too long to cool, and she simply didn’t care to add milk to speed the process.

  Though it was dusk before she left them, Jane didn’t notice the coolness of the evening. She continued to feel wrapped in the cosy warmth of the yellow salon at Laura Place.

  b

  When Jane returned from her visits, Mickey was loitering in the hallway. He smiled bashfully when she spoke to him.

  “Did you want to talk to me, Mickey? Or were you waiting for Mr. Pipkin?”

  “You, Miss Jane.”

  “I see. Why don’t we go into the study?”

  When he stood awkwardly before her, Jane prompted, “What did you wish to tell me, Mickey?”

  “I saw that Lord Devlin today.”

  “Today? I think you mean yesterday, Mickey. Lord Devlin and I went riding yesterday.”

  “No, Miss Jane. It was today. It was when I went out with Sims to find some berries for Mrs. Brown. I had to go with him because he doesn’t know where to look. So we left, and I saw Lord Devlin waiting in the woods.”

  “Waiting?” Jane’s brow creased with puzzlement.

  “Yes, Miss Jane. I didn’t tell anybody, not after that highwayman the other day. Why would he be watching you leave?”

  “So it was while I was leaving,” she murmured.

  Mickey nodded. “Did I do right to tell you, Miss Jane?”

  “Indeed you did, Mickey,” she said, smiling as she dismissed him. Before he left the room, she said quietly, “Mickey, don’t tell anyone else about this. Promise?”

  “Yes, Miss Jane. I promise. And if I see ’im again, I’ll come and tell you.”

  “Good, Mickey. Thank you.”

  Jane remained in the study for the next hour, ostensibly working on the household ledgers. In reality, her mind was occupied with the puzzle Mickey had presented to her.

  Why would Lord Devlin watch for her departure? And where had he gone afterwards? Had he followed her? She didn’t think so. Her groom had been with her, and he would have noticed someone trailing after them, even if she hadn’t.

  And she didn’t believe Drew was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t bear the thought of four
and twenty hours passing without setting eyes on her. Why then, did he observe her movements? An ugly suspicion flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it. But, thought Jane, it was disturbing that Mickey’s story should make her recall his suggestion of danger. She had scoffed at the idea of someone trying to harm her at the time, but that tiny grain of uncertainty had remained.

  Wearily, Jane acknowledged that she would be wise to be cautious. She rose and went to the window to stare at the peaceful landscape with unseeing eyes. Impatiently, Jane twitched the curtains closed and left the room.

  b

  A week later, Drew felt rather foolish when he contemplated all the measures taken to ensure Jane’s safety. Despite his best efforts, she had twice wandered away without anyone knowing. The Bow Street Runner, an older man named Wilbur Bailey, had stationed himself on one side of the massive house, commanding a view of the stables and the front drive. But on the other side of the house, the library’s French doors allowed anyone to exit without being detected. This, Mr. Bailey told the viscount, made his job impossible.

  Still, Drew’s precautions enabled him to sleep nights. Tucker had reported that, at her request, Jane began to take a groom with her any time she drove out or went riding.

  Drew didn’t question why Jane had fallen in with this suggestion so readily. Pipkin kept an eye on Sims, and Mrs. Brown made certain Jane’s meals went directly from her safe hands to the table. He had done all he could to keep her safe.

  b

  “They’re on t’ us, Mr. Havelock.”

  “The devil, you say Sims! How could they be?”

  “I don’t know, sir. That Lord Devlin’s always hangin’ around. I saw ’im comin’ toward the stables yesterday, out of the woods beside the house.”

  “What of it?”

  “That’s th’ second time I’ve seen ’im doin’ that. So last night, when everyone was asleep, I sneaked out there and guess what I saw!”

  “Tell me, man!” said Havelock, sweat beginning to rim his fat jowls.

  “There was this man sleepin’ in th’ woods. He’s all comfortable like with a fire an’ food, a little tarp set up t’ keep th’ rain off.”

 

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