Secret Admirer

by Michele Jaffe

  “And you found?”

  “The trunk was locked. According to the cook, Lady Arlington is the only one with the key and she keeps it hidden. The cook was under the impression that the trunk contained clothes and mementos of Lady Tuesday’s mother and that she valued them very highly.”

  “And did it?”

  “No.” Elwood paused. “We had to smash the lock to open it. And inside we found this.” Elwood pushed an account book bound in black leather across the desk.

  It took Lawrence only a few moments to decipher the entries. He flipped back and forth through it, dropped it with a thud back onto the desk, and stared at Elwood. “My God. This is the ledger of the entire smuggling operation. Every transaction.”

  Elwood worked not to flinch under Lawrence’s gaze. “Yes. And there’s more. A thousand pounds in solid gold coins more,” Elwood said. “In addition to maps of the three armories from which we know weapons were stolen to be resold in Spain, and detailed directions to two storage facilities where they stored goods before moving them out of the country.”

  “Have you visited them?”

  “Yes. You can’t believe what we found. There were—”

  Lawrence put up a hand. “I don’t want to know.” He took a deep breath and stared out the windows. He was remembering the day he’d had the new settee brought in. He had asked his men to move the trunk and Tuesday had reacted strangely. At the time he’d thought she was just being willful, or protective of something that was her mother’s.

  At the time he’d been a fool. “I suppose there is no question about any of this?”

  The fact that Lawrence asked that taught Elwood what this revelation was costing him. The amount of evidence left nothing in doubt. “No. There can’t be.”

  The room filled with a heavy silence.

  “There were two gentlemen guarding one of the storage facilities when we arrived. They both managed to get away, but we think we have a lead on them.”

  Lawrence said, “Oh.”

  Elwood shifted from one foot to the other, wishing there were something he could do. “If we can catch them, they should be able to give you the names of all the people in the smuggling ring. You should finally be able to smash it,” he offered.

  It should have been great news.

  Again, Lawrence said, “Oh.” There was a pause while he pressed his burned palms hard against the corners of his desk to see if he could feel anything. He couldn’t. “When you catch them bring them to me. I will want to have them identify Tuesday. Just to be certain.”

  “Yes sir. I am afraid, sir, there is something more.”

  “More?” Lawrence looked at him, aghast.

  “Yes. You know that each of the victims was at one time engaged to Lady Arlington. What we have just learned is that they were all summoned to London by notes right before their death. Notes from her.”

  “Oh. Are there any still alive?”

  “One. Lord Ivry.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He is supposed to be at his country house.”

  “He isn’t.” Lawrence reached up and rubbed his right shoulder.

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  “But we have no evidence that he came to London. Or was summoned by Lady Arlington.”

  “You will.”

  “Yes,” Elwood agreed unwillingly. “I think we will.”

  “What day is it?”

  “Monday.”

  “So there should be another killing tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Find Lord Ivry.”

  “Yes sir. Sir, my lord, are you—”

  “Find him.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Lawrence stepped out of his office and surveyed the guards posted there. “Tom, come with me. I want you to stay with Lady Arlington all day today. Do not let her breathe without your noticing. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Despite having one arm in a sling and bruises that were now turning green, Tuesday awoke feeling glorious. Feeling, for the first time in her life, Lucky. She had labored under that nickname for years, but only now, this morning, did it feel right. The light filling the marble room was an incredible peachy color, and a breeze came in through some openings hidden high in the walls. It was a perfect chamber, with a perfect bed, built by a perfect man whom she was going to marry.

  “Good morning, Tuesday,” CeCe chirped as she entered.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “His Lordship and I are in cahoots. He thought I would not like to sleep at Worthington Hall without you there, and also that you might want assistance this morning. How are you feeling?”

  “Stupendous.”

  CeCe smiled hugely and sat down on the bed. “You look it. Did you ask him? About the mistress? Tell me everything.”

  Tuesday nodded. “It was—” she started to say, then broke off because she heard Lawrence’s voice in the corridor giving orders to guards. She could not hear what he was saying, but his tone sounded businesslike, as if there had been some news.

  “What has happened?” The question died on her lips. It was not just his expression, it was the way he was gripping his right shoulder. “What is wrong, Lawrence?”

  Having her say his name was terrible. “When were you going to tell me, Lady Arlington?”

  She blinked at him and looked shocked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t pretend to be confused. About the smuggling? About this?” He held up the black ledger.

  Tuesday frowned. “What is that? I’ve never seen it before.”

  Lawrence gazed at her for a long time. He shook his head. “Exceedingly well done, Lady Arlington. I think you may be the best liar I’ve ever met. And God knows, I’ve met a few.”

  Tuesday looked as if she’d been slapped. “I am not lying.”

  “Of course not. Just like you didn’t lie to me when you told me you knew nothing of your husband’s involvement in smuggling.” Just like you didn’t lie to me when you said you loved me.

  “But that was true. It is true. You know that. You know I hadn’t seen Curtis in two months when he was found killed.”

  How could he have been such a bloody fool? How could he have believed her and trusted her, even when evidence pointed the other way? “I know that’s what you say.”

  “Ask anyone. Ask CeCe.” Tuesday turned to her maid who was standing against the wall, trembling. “CeCe, tell him.”

  “Don’t bother, CeCe. I know you well enough to know you would lie for your mistress.”

  Tuesday was outraged. “How dare you?”

  Lawrence looked interested. “How dare I? I’ll tell you, Lady Arlington. We found a ledger in the bottom of your mother’s trunk recording every transaction of the largest smuggling ring operating in England. Don’t bother gasping, you don’t want to overdo the drama until you’ve heard it all. In addition to the ledger we found a thousand pounds in gold and enough information to hang you for treason. If you don’t hang for murder first.”

  “Murder? What are you talking about?”

  “The neat coincidence of your husband dying and you being in charge of the smuggling ring. The tidy fact that all the victims were at one time engaged to you, and that you summoned them all to London.”

  “What?”

  “Did you or did you not send Silus Ivry a note?”

  “How did you—”

  “Very good. You can see how this looks, Lady Arlington. Four men die. You are the only connection between them. Indeed, they have all inflicted a wrong on you. You tell me you had nothing to do with their deaths and, because I am a fool, I believed you. You tell me you had nothing to do with the smuggling your husband was involved in, and because I am a fool I believed you then, too. But I can’t believe it anymore. I am not that much of a fool.”

  Tuesday was shaking her head. “I have no idea how any of the things you talked about go
t into the trunk, but I assure you that I did not put it there. I know nothing about smuggling. Or notes to the victims. If I—”

  “I’m afraid, Lady Arlington, your assurances are not very valuable to me. Is it true that you have the only key to the lock on the trunk?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that you keep it hidden?”

  Tuesday pressed her lips together, then answered, “Yes.”

  “Then how could anything have gotten in without your knowledge?”

  “I’m not—” Tuesday’s eyes got huge. “Maybe it was him. The Lion, Albert Marston. We know he’s been watching my house. Maybe he saw where the key was.”

  “The Lion,” Lawrence repeated, nodding. “Yes, perhaps it was him. Why don’t we proceed a bit farther down that path. Perhaps you and he are in this together. Perhaps you had him kill Curtis to take over the smuggling operation.”

  “That is absurd.”

  Lawrence sighed. “I don’t know why I expected you to stop lying to me now when you have been so successful for so long.”

  “I have not lied to you. I have never lied to you.”

  “Please, Lady Arlington, spare me at least having to listen to that. I can see that we aren’t going to get anywhere this morning. I suspect you’ll have more to say when you are confronted with your accomplices. For right now, just answer this one question. Satisfy my curiosity on this single point, so I will know the depth of your duplicity. Did you plan to make me fall in love with you all along, to confound me more deeply, or was that just a happy accident?”

  She bit her lip and gave him a look that at any other time would have crushed his heart and said, “Oh, Lawrence.”

  Now it just made him angry. “Can’t even answer a simple question straightforwardly. Oh well. At least you did not lie. Tom, escort Lady Arlington back to her house.”

  Tuesday’s face had lost all its color. “It won’t be necessary. CeCe and I will go back to Worthington—”

  “And Tom,” Lawrence interrupted, ignoring her. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

  Time passed in great black blocks, unfelt and unnoticed by Lawrence, but bearing down on him. There was no sign of Albert Marston but, of course, he no longer expected one. No doubt Tuesday had tipped him off. Or knocked him off. It was growing dark outside and fireflies had begun to hover in the bushes when Elwood, breathless, appeared at the door of the office.

  It took him five minutes of steady pounding to rouse Lawrence’s attention.

  “We found Lord Ivry, sir,” he said when he finally managed to get Lawrence to open the door.

  Lawrence nodded dully. “He was summoned to London by a letter from Lady Arlington.”

  “Yes,” Elwood confirmed.

  “I don’t think I need to hear any more. Put him up in my room and send someone to arrest her.”

  “Are you certain that is—”

  “I say, Lord Pickering, is that you?” a bobbing lantern with a man behind it asked, emerging from the encroaching darkness of the garden. “Good evening, my lord. I’m Lord Ivry, Silus Ivry. Be honored if you would call me Silus. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but I was wondering, can you tell me what is going on? What is wrong? Tuesday, I mean, ah, Lady Arlington—is she in some sort of trouble?”

  “Nothing she cannot handle herself,” Lawrence said icily.

  “What if you are wrong? I know I look a sight and I’m not as agile as I should be since I took that ball in the knee during the war, but for Tuesday, for Lady Arlington, I would willingly do anything.”

  Lawrence’s feelings on meeting the man were complicated in ways he had not expected. Lord Silus Ivry was not some ancient ugly man, but a man younger than himself with a jutting chin and handsome face and all his hair. Above all, he did not sound like a man who had rejected Tuesday. “If you feel that way about her, why did you break off your engagement?”

  Silus Ivry grew stiff. “I don’t see that is any of your business—” he began, then cut himself off. “Oh bother. It’s the greatest mistake of my life. Can I sit down? The heat makes my knee ache.”

  Lawrence gestured for the man to come into his office, then waited in silence.

  “I would not want my wife to know, you see,” Silus Ivry began, blushing slightly. “Catherine is a lovely girl but, well—she isn’t Tuesday. No one is Tuesday.” He sighed. “I would have done anything to hold on to her, only, I was afraid.”

  “Of her?”

  “Good God, no. Of her brother. Howard. He charged too high.”

  “Too high?”

  “Yes. He offered her hand in marriage as payment for his gambling debts. But then, once you got engaged, he hit on you again and again. The settlement he demanded was huge. And it was clear it would never stop. The thought of not being able to maintain that glorious creature as she deserved because her brother was gambling away my fortune just sickened me. And I was not the only one. There were—”

  “We know.” Lawrence could not believe what he was hearing. Her brother had practically sold her. Like—

  “I still regret the decision,” Silus Ivry said heavily. “And I am sure the others do, too.”

  “I doubt it. They are all dead.”

  “Oh dear, then I really must go to her—to help her.”

  “Right now I think the most helpful thing you could do would be to remain at my house until Wednesday.”

  “But she needs me now.” Lord Ivry rose and leaned over the desk. “If there is anything I can do, I must. Her note made it sound most urgent. Where is she?”

  “Ah right. Her note. Is that why you came? Because she summoned you?”

  “Well—”

  Lawrence reached out a hand. “May I see the note please?” After a moment’s hesitation Lord Ivry gave in.

  “ ‘Dear Silus,’ ” Lawrence read. “ ‘I beg you not to come to London this week for any reason. Your life could be in grave danger. Be on your guard at all times. I shall explain all soon. Fondly, Tuesday.’ ”

  Lawrence looked up at him. “She told you not to come.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Why the devil are you here?”

  “Wouldn’t you be? If you’d gotten a letter like that from the woman you loved?”

  Silus Ivry was still talking but Lawrence was not listening. Had he made a mistake? Had she—

  Christopher came into the office, then, rushing with uncommon haste. “I must speak to you, my lord.”

  Lawrence rose and stood with him at the doorway. “What is it?”

  “I have a message for you. From Grub, at Worthington Hall.”

  Lawrence did not think he could feel any worse than he had all afternoon. But when he heard what Grub had said, he discovered he was wrong.

  Ha ha ha, the Lion laughed as he watched Tuesday, his Lady, sitting on the settee in her studio. You are mine, he wanted to say. His Lordship isn’t very happy, is he?

  The Lion spared no sympathy for His Lordship. She wasn’t supposed to be Lawrence Pickering’s anyway. She was his, the Lion’s. They were already collaborators. Working together. And they would soon be so much more.

  He had fallen in love by accident. It was all the Watching that did it. Hours spent on the street outside his Lady’s Window or hovering over the skylight, watching her in her studio, watching her paint, and smile. Watching her talk patiently to those children who came in all the time. To that little boy whose dog he had killed.

  The Lion fingered the chain he wore around his neck as he remembered. She was so kind and good. She made everyone beautiful. When she looked at you, you felt like she understood everything about you. As the days went by and he Watched her more, the Lion had wanted to tell her everything. Share his secrets with her. He already knew all of hers.

  They were so much alike, he thought. They needed each other. The way she talked, the sympathy in her voice—like the way she talked to those children—made the Lion quiver to touch her—

 
lips, neck, breast

  —made him quiver to have her heart.

  And this one he would not feed to dogs. He would treasure it. He’d already had a special pouch made for it that hung from the chain around his neck. That way they could be together forever.

  “Grub swears to it, sir,” Christopher repeated. “He searched the trunk two days ago, and yesterday right after you two left to come here. Lady Arlington gave him the key herself and begged him to be careful. Told him that they were the only things of her mother’s she had left. And there was nothing in there but faded linens and some old shoe buckles.”

  Lawrence looked up at Christopher. “What do you think?”

  “I think Lady Arlington is innocent, and that someone is trying to make her look guilty.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “To get you two apart, I would say. To get her—”

  On her own, were the words that would have finished off Christopher’s sentence, but Lawrence was already halfway to the stables and not letting up on his sprint. He was not going to allow anyone to see Tuesday before him. He had been so convinced that she was manipulating him that he had not even considered she could be telling the truth. He had acted like a boor and an idiot. But he would make it up to her. He would explain why he was like that. Explain about Constantia and Everly and Maria and Rafael, about how it wasn’t her, that he did not trust himself. And he would hope like hell she understood.

  He felt physical pain to think about how he had treated her that morning. To think about what he had said.

  It was nothing compared to the pain he was about to feel.

  The Lion twisted the chain around his finger as his eyes followed his Lady.

  She had to pretend to be upset about what happened with Lawrence Pickering. Otherwise everyone would Wonder. But the Lion knew what she was really feeling. Worship. For him.

  “Was he a good commander?” she asked His Lordship’s men as she paced around her studio.

  Everyone wanted to talk to her. Everyone loved her. But he knew it was only his answers that interested her really.

  “Oh yes,” the Lion told her. It was true. He’d learned everything important he knew from him. Learned about planning. About hiding. About what to look for at a crime scene. About how to govern men’s minds. Learned to question everything and not to trust coincidences. Learned the most important truth of all, got it right from His Lordship’s own lips: The only difference between a hero and a murderer is which side you are on.