Convenient Bride for the Soldier & the Major Meets His Match & Secret Lessons With the Rake (9781488021718)

by Merrill, Christine; Burrows, Annie; Justiss, Julia

  Lord Rawcliffe inclined his head in her direction. ‘I stand corrected. Please, do tell us what else you believe you know.’

  Harriet glared at him. And then proceeded to tell the others what she knew.

  ‘Her name is Jenny Wren—’

  ‘An alias if ever I heard one,’ muttered Lord Rawcliffe.

  ‘And she was given the job on the recommendation of the Dowager Lady Buntingford.’

  ‘Lady B-B…’ Archie began.

  ‘Buntingford,’ Lord Rawcliffe finished on his behalf. ‘Why, is there some special significance to that name, in your case as well?’

  ‘Yes. She was one of Grandmama’s friends. C-Came out together, wrote to each other all the time. Asked her to b-be my own mother’s godmother. Lives in Lesser Peeving, now, as I recall.’

  ‘Is that in Dorset?’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  ‘Then there we have a clear connection.’

  ‘Do you seriously mean to tell me,’ said Harriet in disbelief, ‘that you suspect this elderly lady of persuading her former friends to employ a jewel thief in the guise of a lady’s maid? So that she can…hoard them all up like some kind of elderly demented magpie?’

  ‘Perhaps that is why she has become a recluse,’ suggested Lord Rawcliffe. ‘Perhaps her family have her safely locked away on one of their estates so that she cannot wander about in society embarrassing everyone by helping herself to other people’s gewgaws.’

  ‘But she is thwarting them all by sending out an experienced jewel thief in her stead? No, I don’t think that will fadge,’ said Lord Becconsall. ‘For one thing, how did she meet the thief? If she is being kept locked away?’

  ‘What about forgery?’ said Captain Bretherton, making Harriet jump because he’d been so quiet since he’d slumped down on his chair that she’d suspected he’d dozed off. ‘Probably easy enough to forge the writing of an elderly lady. I’ve seen men forge my own signature,’ he said bitterly, ‘in such a convincing manner that I was half-persuaded I’d signed the docket myself.’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Lord Becconsall, ‘that if a criminal gang can employ a girl to slip into houses under the guise of a maid and make her disappear afterwards, and can think of a crime that is damn near unnoticeable, then they would be bound to have access to a forger. And a fence.’

  ‘But that doesn’t explain why it’s always rubies,’ said Harriet. ‘I mean, I can see a demented elderly lady wanting to pile them all up, in secret. But not for a professional criminal to only steal one kind of jewels. Why didn’t he go for the Tarbrook diamonds? They must be worth a lot more than that old set of rubies that hardly anyone ever wore.’

  ‘We have no evidence that the thieves have only ever stolen rubies,’ said Lord Rawcliffe. ‘We only know of two cases, after all. It may be coincidence that both crimes feature rubies.’

  ‘According to my men,’ said Lord Becconsall, ‘some thefts are done to order.’

  ‘You mean,’ said Harriet incredulously, ‘people say, I’d like a ruby necklace, and a thief just goes out and steals one?’

  ‘Not quite that cut and dried, but someone with a particular demand will let it be known in certain quarters that a suitable reward will be offered for the right kind of goods. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Goodness.’

  ‘Yes, but I think you have also given us another very good reason why this particular criminal has targeted the jewels in question. The Tarbrook diamonds are famous and popular. The rubies were not.’

  ‘That’s true. Aunt Susan kept them shut away and nobody wore them except on special occasions because they were so hideous.’

  ‘Another layer of insurance to ensure the theft wasn’t detected. The gang only stole jewels that were not going to be missed in a hurry. Though they might well have had a specific buyer in mind, all the same,’ said Lord Becconsall, as though reluctant to relinquish his theory about why there were two sets of rubies that had been copied.

  ‘It m-makes you w-wonder how a thief w-would know ab-bout them, then. If the ladies hardly ever wore them.’

  There was a beat of silence. ‘They do appear in several portraits, apparently,’ said Harriet. ‘Painted whenever one of the Tarbrook ladies became betrothed. There is one hanging in the London house, of Lord Tarbrook’s sister, done many years ago. Kitty pointed it out to me to prove how hideous they were.’

  ‘Ah! It’s the same with the K-Kellett Set. Show up in p-portraits going back hundreds of years. Starting in Elizab-bethan t-times. Only reason I knew a-bout them as I’ve never seen my mother actually wear them. C-couldn’t have done, of c-course,’ he added with a frown, ‘since they were in m-my g-grandmother’s p-possession until she d-died.’

  Lord Becconsall whistled low. ‘Whoever is running this particular rig must have had access to the homes of families from the haut ton and seen the jewels he planned to steal depicted in portraits, since the ladies in both these cases were reluctant to actually wear them in public.’

  ‘Or she,’ pointed out Lord Rawcliffe. ‘There is some merit in Lady Harriet’s theory of the elderly demented magpie, in my opinion.’

  Harriet would have preened had she not detected a hint of cynicism in Lord Rawcliffe’s voice that made her fear he was actually mocking her.

  ‘It would be much simpler to assume that she sent a lady’s maid into the houses to steal jewels she had her eye on, rather than to have someone go to all the trouble of employing a forger to fake those references. She also knows the families intimately and would therefore have known that it would be possible to steal and copy jewels that weren’t very often on show. And given the maid clear instructions as to how to go about it.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a very good point,’ said Harriet, grudgingly, for she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be thinking along the same lines as Lord Rawcliffe. ‘For Maud said none of the servants could see how a burglar could have got in and stolen the jewels, then replaced them with copies before anyone noticed they’d even gone missing. Which made me think that there must have been somebody who knew the family, and their habits, and all about the jewels, too.’

  ‘It would also explain,’ said Lord Becconsall, ‘as you said earlier, Rawcliffe, why her family keep her shut away, nowadays, if she is in the habit of helping herself to shiny things that don’t belong to her.’

  ‘Lesser Peeving,’ said Lord Rawcliffe, as though he hadn’t been paying attention to the last few moments of conversation. ‘Why does that place sound familiar? I am certain I can never have visited the place. But I have heard it mentioned. Somewhere.’

  ‘It will come to you,’ said Lord Becconsall. ‘Probably when you are thinking about something else.’

  ‘I feel sure you must be right,’ he said in such a condescending tone that Harriet felt a bit indignant on Lord Becconsall’s behalf.

  ‘Well, then,’ said Lord Becconsall, without appearing to have taken the slightest bit of offence. ‘Now all we have to do is come up with a plan of campaign.’ He got to his feet, as though eager to get started.

  ‘I have already told Lady Harriet that I am willing to go to this Bogholt place to find out what I can about the servant girl,’ he said, ‘under pretext of attending the next meeting at Newmarket.’

  ‘Do you not think it would be better,’ said Lord Rawcliffe, ‘if I were to do that? I attend the races regularly. Whereas you do not have the reputation of being much of a gamester.’

  ‘Except when it comes to cream buns, apparently,’ Harriet couldn’t resist saying.

  Lord Rawcliffe gave her a cold stare.

  ‘I hope I am not going to regret admitting you into my confidence.’

  ‘Never mind the cream buns,’ said Lord Becconsall, planting his fists on his hips. ‘We need to focus on the rubies. And finding out who took them. And I already have things all planned out in my h
ead regarding the trip to Bogholt. I can mingle with the locals and win their trust far more easily than you, Zeus. You’ll go striding in there as though you are God and set up everyone’s backs, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  Lord Rawcliffe raised one eyebrow. ‘You are seriously considering leaving Town, just when Lady Harriet is beginning to soften towards you?’

  Lord Becconsall turned to look at Harriet, who felt as if she’d just been stripped naked by that percipient remark. Which wasn’t a very helpful feeling to have, just when Lord Becconsall was looking at her so intently.

  For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other. And though Harriet was blushing, she couldn’t drag her eyes from Lord Becconsall’s face. Because it bore such a look of wonder, and hope, that her initial feeling of vulnerability faded with each breath she took.

  ‘I have something to prove to Lady Harriet,’ said Lord Becconsall to Lord Rawcliffe, though he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. ‘My trip to Bogholt will be in the nature of a quest.’

  ‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Lord Rawcliffe drawled. ‘Or advisable. You would do far better to stay here and court her in form. As she deserves. Ladies, so I have found, prefer a man to be near them, dancing attendance, not haring off on ridiculous quests which they will decide you have undertaken as much for your own amusement as to impress them.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Again, although he was speaking to Lord Rawcliffe, he was looking intently at her face. ‘Lady Harriet?’ He took a half-step closer to her and gazed down into her face. Whatever he saw there appeared to help him come to a decision.

  ‘You go to Bogholt, then,’ he said to Lord Rawcliffe airily, ‘and find out what you can. I will stay here with Lady Harriet and—’

  ‘Give her daily reports of progress with the investigation,’ said Lord Rawcliffe smoothly.

  ‘And I will go to Lesser P-Peeving,’ said Archie. ‘P-pay a visit to my mother’s g-godmother. See if she is hoarding rubies in her chamber p-pot, or something of that nature.’

  ‘Or if she’s taken a skilled forger into her employ,’ put in Captain Bretherton, who appeared to have forgers on the brain. Not surprising if he’d had his own signature faked, she supposed. ‘Do you happen to have a role mapped out for me?’

  ‘I should think Ulysses will, in due course, be in need of a groomsman. And who better to stand up with him than you?’

  Both Captain Bretherton and Lord Becconsall shot Lord Rawcliffe identical looks of indignation. And Harriet was pretty certain a similar sort of expression showed on her own face. It was all very well his friends calling him Zeus, and letting him manage their lives, but he had no right to subject her to the same kind of treatment.

  ‘Ah. It has just come to me,’ he said, as though oblivious to the hostile glances being aimed in his direction. ‘Lesser Peeving. Oh, lord, how ironic,’ he said with a shake of his head.

  ‘Are you going to enlighten us?’

  Lord Rawcliffe regarded the head of his cane for a moment or two. ‘I do not think it has any bearing on the case. At least, I hope it does not have any bearing on the case. It is just that I happen to know of a clergyman who was sent to a parish there, a few years ago. His father is the incumbent of the parish nearest to Kelsham Park, so naturally I hear news of his offspring, from time to time.’

  ‘Well, that’s one mystery solved,’ said Lord Becconsall, with heavy irony.

  ‘Which, gentlemen, brings the proceedings here to a conclusion. I will take my leave of you, Lady Harriet,’ said Lord Rawcliffe, bowing over her hand and kissing it. And darting her a look from a pair of heavy-lidded eyes that would, she was sure, have made the hearts of many society misses skip a beat.

  Apart from one whose heart had already been given to another.

  ‘Come, Atlas, Archie,’ he said, jerking his head to the other two men, who immediately sprang to their feet.

  Only Lord Becconsall remained exactly where he was. Even when his friends had left the room, shutting the door behind them.

  And he was looking at her in such a way that her heart began to thump against her chest. For she was alone, in a virtually empty house, with a man who was gazing at her as though he wanted to devour her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ‘Your hands are absolutely freezing,’ said Lord Becconsall.

  She looked down to discover that at some point he’d taken hold of them in his own.

  He cleared his throat. ‘At least the fire is beginning to put out a little heat now, along with the smoke.’

  Harriet could not believe her ears. He’d led her to believe he was about to propose, but now all he could talk about was the smoking fire.

  ‘I…we…that is…’ He took a deep breath. And she suddenly perceived he was as nervous as she was. ‘Hang it, you know we should not really be alone like this.’

  ‘No.’ She looked up at him shyly. ‘It is highly improper.’

  Whatever he saw in her face must have reassured him, for he grinned.

  ‘What I am about to do next is even more improper,’ he said. ‘At least, people would say so, if they ever found out, but you were the one to point out that it was something I should have done already.’

  She could tell from the burning look in his eyes that he was going to kiss her. That was what he meant. She supposed a properly brought-up young lady should have protested. Laid her hand upon his chest as he loomed closer, as though to prevent him having his way.

  But Harriet hadn’t been ‘properly’ brought up. So she clung on to his hands very tightly and lifted her face to make it easier for him to gain access to her lips.

  She’d expected him to kiss her the way he’d kissed her in the park, since he’d told her he wanted to find out if it really had been as splendid as he’d thought. But instead, he gently touched his lips to hers, with what felt almost like reverence.

  And yet that scarcely-there brush of his mouth sent rivers of pleasure cascading through her body all the same. And made her utter a little hum of pleasure.

  ‘Zeus was right, wasn’t he?’ he said, breaking off to gaze down into her face. ‘You are softening towards me.’

  ‘If I wasn’t, I’d have reached for the poker long before this,’ she said, looping her arms round his neck. ‘And brained you with it.’

  His breath hitched. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time with more confidence, and for considerably longer. By the time he broke off, they were both breathing heavily and Harriet’s heart was pounding thickly, making her blood course hotly through her veins.

  ‘I have been longing to do that ever since that morning in the park. I have dreamed of your lips. Your hair,’ he said, reaching up one hand to stroke an errant strand that had come untucked from its pins. ‘The feel of you…’ he breathed, sliding one arm round her waist and pulling her closer.

  ‘It wasn’t just the park, though, was it? Or the blow to the head, or—’

  He stopped her mouth with another kiss. Pulled her tight to his body, so that they were melded together from breast to knee.

  ‘It was you, Harriet…’ he breathed. ‘The magic all came from you. How did I get to be so lucky?’ He gazed down at her as though he’d never seen anything quite so lovely.

  ‘You mean, if you hadn’t fallen off that horse at my feet…’

  ‘No. That was just how we met. I meant that I cannot believe I have been lucky enough to be here, with you in my arms like this, after doing everything wrong. I should have courted you, instead of teasing and tormenting you. Only…’

  ‘Only what?’

  ‘It was too important, that was what it was,’ he said reflectively. ‘If you hadn’t liked me as much as I liked you, to start with, then it would have hurt. Very much.’

  ‘Much safer to test the waters, first?’

  ‘Something like
that. God, what a coward I am.’

  ‘No. Not you,’ she said, twirling a strand of his hair between her fingers. ‘You are just…a bit like me, I think. And that is why I understand the way you’ve behaved, better than another woman would. You have never had anyone love you very much, have you? Which has left you feeling as if perhaps you are not very lovable.’

  He started. ‘You feel the same way?’

  She pressed her lips together in a rueful way. ‘Most girls, I have observed, seem to find it easy to let men know when advances would be welcome. They have the confidence to believe that it is worthwhile giving their favourite a hint, you see. Only I always thought that if I did something like that, I would just be making a fool of myself…’

  ‘We are a matched pair, are we not?’ He gripped her hands again, as though what he was about to say was really important. ‘I felt that, you know, right from the start. As though I recognised you, somehow. Does that sound very foolish?’

  She shook her head. Nothing he was saying sounded foolish to her eager ears.

  ‘I sometimes felt as though you saw me as well. The real me. The one who hides beneath all the layers of artifice and jocularity. The only other person who has ever appeared to see anything of value in me has been Zeus. It is largely because he believed in me at a time when I was at my most vulnerable that I forgive him so much else… Lord, listen to me! These are not exactly words of courtship, are they?’

  ‘Actually, I feel as though they are,’ she said. ‘Because you are allowing me to see your very deepest self. The part of you that you conceal from everyone else.’

  ‘I never want to be anything but totally honest with you, Harriet. I wish I had been from the start. That I’d laid my feelings bare and courted you properly.’

  ‘I probably wouldn’t have believed you were in earnest, anyway. I’m not exactly the kind of girl men fall in love with at first sight, am I?’

  ‘Who has made you feel like that,’ he said indignantly. ‘Your aunt?’