“I’ve already told you, aunt,” Leonora said, exchanging a look with her aunt in the pier glass. “I wish to know more about the people with whom Jonathan spent his last days. And as the Finchers—as well as the entire Lords of Anarchy club—were my brother’s last companions, then that is where I wish to go.”
“But so hard on the heels of your engagement, my dear,” Aunt Hortense sniffed. “Lord Frederick Lisle is a handsome devil, make no mistake, but are you sure you can trust him? With your hand, I mean? After all, he is a man, and history has taught us both that they can make a mess of things when they are left in charge.”
“I am hardly agreeing to let him enslave me, Aunt Hortense,” Leonora said wryly, as her maid inserted the last pin into her intricate coiffure. “If I thought him capable of such a thing I’d not embark upon an engagement at all. But I do not, thank heavens. And I think we will rub along rather well together.”
“I know, dearest,” the older woman said with a shake of her graying hair. “I simply don’t know how to feel that my dear niece has agreed to marry the very same man who broke her heart years ago. It goes against every protective instinct in me to step aside like that.”
“And do not think I don’t appreciate it,” Leonora said with a laugh as she rose and twirled a bit before the glass. “Will I do?”
“Very well indeed, my dear niece,” Aunt Hortense said with a grin. “And if you mean to catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, then you have already passed the first test. For I do not see how any man there will be able to resist you. Young Lisle will have his work cut out for himself, that is certain.”
The two ladies retrieved their wraps and were nearing the ground floor on the staircase, when a knock on the main door sounded. Just as they stepped down, the butler opened the door to greet Freddy.
“Evening, Greentree,” Freddy said with a slight bow. “I’m here to … ah.” He turned to face Leonora and Hortense. “Ladies, you are both looking ravishing tonight. I shall be the envy of every man there.”
“You always were a silver-tongued devil, Lord Frederick,” Hortense said with a blush as Freddy bowed over her hand. “But do not expect me to fall for your charms, young man.
“But then why should I?” she continued, not letting either Leonora or Freddy get a word in. “For it’s as plain as a pikestaff that you have fallen under my niece’s spell once more. At last.” She added in a stage whisper, “I don’t mind telling you that the gel has been near impossible to live with since the two of you broke things off.”
“Aunt Hortense,” Leonora said sharply, “that is quite enough, though I do appreciate the sentiment. You needn’t have worried, however. For Freddy has rescued me from that old life. Haven’t you, my lord?”
Freddy’s brow furrowed as he looked from one lady to the other. “Are you quite sure you’re recovered, my dear?” he said with a small smile. “For I shouldn’t mind in the least to spend the evening here playing whist for pennies with your aunt.”
“Pennies?” Hortense snorted. “I should like to see you play for guineas at the very least. Young cardsharp, thinking you might best me. I should have known you were a wrong ’un the moment I saw you.”
“Lovely as all this bickering is,” Leonora said, nodding to the butler that he should help them leave. “I think it’s time we get on with things. I believe the card rooms fill up quickly at these affairs, and traffic will be difficult this evening.”
Freddy exchanged a speaking glance with her, but merely nodded as he helped her into her wrap, and to Leonora’s distraction, he slid his thumb quite gently down her neck.
“You are correct, as usual, my dear,” Hortense said with a simpering smile. “And I suppose it’s none of my business if you marry the fellow or not. It’s a pleasure of course to see you again, Lord Frederick, but I simply cannot imagine her father will allow it. My brother is quite protective of my niece.”
With that, Freddy escorted them down the stairs and to his waiting carriage, which looked to be quite polished and new. Freddy, Leonora reflected, had wasted no time in rigging himself out with an open barouche. It wasn’t the sort of thing driven by the Lords of Anarchy, but it was definitely impressive. Whether Sir Gerard Fincher and his crew would wish to drive it, Leonora couldn’t say.
As if reading her thoughts, Freddy said brightly, “This handsome carriage is on loan from my brother Archer. He and his lady are in the country awaiting the birth of their first child. He was kind enough to leave word with his servants that his town carriages were at my disposal.”
“That must be exciting,” Leonora said with a pang of sadness for the children she’d never have. What must it be like for Archer’s wife, Perdita, now? She could not imagine a happier scene than one of new parents cradling their sweet baby.
“It is,” Freddy said, leading both ladies to where the steps had been lowered at the carriage door. “This will be my parents’ first grandchild as well so the entire Lisle family is on tenterhooks. My brothers and I are already vying for the position of favorite uncle.”
He grinned, and Leonora saw that he was genuinely excited at the prospect. With determination, she schooled her features to reveal only polite happiness for him. “How delightful.”
It would do no good to dwell on what could never be. No matter how much it might hurt her.
“I must have a word with your coachman, Lord Frederick,” Aunt Hortense demanded from Freddy’s other side, before he could respond to Leonora’s lukewarm response. “There is a particular route I must insist upon. My rheumatism insists upon it, you understand.”
Grateful for her aunt’s managing ways, Leonora allowed Freddy to hand her into the carriage and concentrated on arranging the skirts of her black silk evening gown. She’d had it made up along with several other mourning pieces soon after Jonathan’s death. More at the insistence of her modiste than anything else. For she was quite sure she’d have no need for evening dress during her period of mourning. But, of course, Freddy and necessity had changed that.
Once they were situated in the barouche—Aunt Hortense having spoken for several minutes while they waited—Freddy gave the signal for his coachman and they were off.
While Freddy and Aunt Hortense chatted, Leonora took a moment to study the man seated beside her, hoping to erase the memory of her earlier sadness.
Always one to dress with the utmost care, tonight Freddy was every inch the duke’s son. He wore buff breeches and an evening coat of blue superfine. His collar and cuffs glistened white in the evening light, and his cravat was tied neatly in the mathematical—one of his favorites, she’d learned the last time they were engaged. Winking from his cravat was a single stone set in a finely crafted stickpin.
Since he was a younger son in his family, Freddy had often found himself short of ready funds back when they had been together before. He’d told her father that he was quite well off now.
She knew, however, that the pin was a family piece. Once she’d heard him speaking about it to Jonathan who had wanted to purchase it for his own collection. But Freddy had declined. “I always think of my cavalier ancestor when I look at it,” he’d told Jonathan with a grin. “He was a bit of a scoundrel, but he was always rigged out in style—or so family legend would have us believe.”
She wondered with a smile if he had thought of the cavalier when he donned the pin tonight.
“A penny for them,” Freddy said as the carriage slowed a bit. “I should dearly like to know what’s going on in that head of yours.” His expression was thoughtful, as if he suspected the answer wasn’t all pleasant.
“Are you quite sure?” she asked. “For I sometimes am quite grateful that no one could ever see into my mind. Otherwise I’d find myself at constant odds with almost everyone.”
“It can’t be that bad,” he said with a wink. “I’m quite convinced that any number of people think of putting a period to my existence on a daily basis. Certainly my brothers do.”
Leonora heard her aunt cough but from
mirth or blood thirst, she couldn’t say. “I have little doubt that your brothers adore you, Lord Frederick,” she said carefully. “And that goes for most people in the ton. Indeed, it makes me quite ill at times to consider just how well loved you are. How on earth is anyone else allowed to be fallible when there is such perfection to consider?”
Just then, the carriage rolled to a stop, but it was much too soon for them to have reached Hampstead.
“Ah, this will be my stop,” Aunt Hortense said, gathering up her reticule and shawl.
“I don’t understand,” Leonora said, exchanging a glance with Frederick. “What is this place?”
“It is my friend Agatha’s house, my dear,” Aunt Hortense said, patting Leonora’s arm. “You didn’t really suppose I was going to reverse a lifetime of avoiding soirees, did you? Besides, Leonora, I know you’re in safe hands with this young rapscallion,” she added with a wink at Freddy
“But what about Papa?” Leonora asked with a shake of her head. “He’ll be livid!”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” her aunt assured her, opening the carriage door and letting the footman hand her down. “No need to worry about coming to fetch me, children. I will simply have one of my friends drive me. I have my own house, after all, and there can be no objection to an old woman begging her young niece to take her home first.”
The interior of the carriage was silent for a moment as the coach once more was on its way.
“That was … unexpected,” Freddy said at last, from the opposite seat.
“That is an understatement,” Leonora replied, still somewhat surprised. “But, definitely fortuitous. This will allow us to move freely at the party, as we originally intended.”
“There is that,” he said thoughtfully. “And I somehow do not think that your aunt would have been quite comfortable with tonight’s entertainment. So it’s just as well.”
“What do you mean?” A prickle of unease ran down Leonora’s spine.
“It’s just that this soiree was supposed to be for club members and their guests only,” Freddy responded. “And I’m not sure they deal in chaperones as a general rule. Aunt Hortense would have stood out. And I have a feeling that would have impeded our progress.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Leonora asked as the carriage slowed.
Frederick shrugged. “I knew your father wanted your aunt to accompany you. And it’s in my best interest just now to keep him happy.”
“For the sake of our investigation,” she said flatly.
“Naturally,” he responded, his expression bland. “For the sake of the investigation.”
They were saved from further conversation by the footman opening the carriage door.
* * *
Frederick’s first thought on stepping into the entryway of Sir Gerard and Lady Fincher’s Hampstead mansion was “new money.”
While his cousin’s family was indeed connected to the Lisles by marriage, the Finchers had never been particularly plump in the pocket. Sir Gerard’s household, however, must have acquired wealth somehow for the floors gleamed with Italian marble and the walls were hung with fabrics that Frederick knew from furnishing his own small house in Mayfair were quite expensive.
He exchanged a glance with Leonora, whom he could see from her pointed look at the gilt and crystal chandelier was thinking along similar lines.
“If you will both follow me,” the butler said, leading them up the grand staircase to the upper floors.
“I thought you said Sir Gerard’s father was a younger son,” Leonora said in a low voice as they followed the majordomo up the lushly carpeted stairs.
“I did,” Frederick said as they reached the landing, where framed portraits of ancestors bearing no resemblance to the Fincher clan glared out at them. “I’m just as surprised as you are. Last I heard my cousin had already run through his wife’s dowry. One can only assume this has been bought on credit.”
“Either that, or he has some means of getting funds that we don’t know about,” Leonora said in a low voice. “It could very well be connected to whatever my brother discovered.”
Aware that they were now in hostile territory, he placed a hand on Leonora’s lower back to guide her up the narrow stairs, and felt her stiffen then relax. It had been meant as a protective gesture, almost instinctive. It must have been some time since she’d been to a social function with a gentleman, he realized. The thought sent a primitive sort of satisfaction coursing through him. Though he’d at first been careful not to become too attached to her again, he was quickly coming to realize that whatever this was between them was inevitable.
Like a rising tide, it could not be held back.
“Lord Frederick Lisle and Miss Leonora Craven,” the butler announced to the room at large.
They were no more than a few moments late—thanks to Aunt Hortense’s detour—but it seemed that even so, the party had begun without them. The lavishly furnished drawing room only boasted twenty or so guests, but they somehow managed to make the room feel crowded beyond bearing. That might have been because of the fog of cigar smoke that hung like an impending thundercloud over the room. At the butler’s announcement of them, the raucous laughter stopped, and for a moment, the partygoers turned to assess the newcomers.
From his place of pride, on what would in another place be termed a throne, Sir Gerard held court, surrounded by eager young men and ladies whose gowns exposed a shocking amount of naked flesh. “Excellent, my dear cousin! I am so pleased you decided to join us!”
Glancing at Leonora, Freddy saw that she was scanning the room with watchful eyes. She might think that her own artistic set was shocking, but they were probably quite tame when compared to the Lords of Anarchy and their hangers-on. Still, she didn’t seem traumatized. Only curious.
“May I present my fiancée, Miss Leonora Craven?” he asked a bit loudly, making sure that the other men in the room, most of whom were eyeing Leonora with open interest, knew that she belonged to him.
Leonora stiffened beside him, but he squeezed her hand. If she let her displeasure show, it might provoke the assembled group to demand a display of dominance from him. Something he was loath to do, but would if it was required to keep her safe from these wolves.
Sir Gerard laughed knowingly at Frederick’s declaration. “As usual, cousin, you display exquisite taste,” he said, gesturing for them to come stand before him. Like supplicants to the king. To Leonora he said, “I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Craven. My cousin is a lucky man.”
Freddy didn’t much care for the way Gerard allowed his gaze to rake down Leonora’s figure, like a wolf eyeing a tasty morsel. Nor did Leonora, he surmised, feeling her stiffen beside him as his cousin leered at her. It went against every bit of his natural inclination to allow such liberties, but it was a necessity if they were to learn the true nature of Jonathan’s death.
Only that knowledge kept him from declaring the gathering to be the farce it was and carrying Leonora bodily from the house.
“A lucky man indeed, Frederick,” Sir Gerard said, his gimlet gaze belying the languid tone of his voice. He wished to convey ease and calm, but it was obvious—at least to his cousin—that his every muscle was poised for action. “If she were mine I’d keep her close to my side, as well. One can never be too careful with women, after all.”
“The tasty morsel has a name, Sir Gerard,” Leonora snapped before Frederick could stop her. “I’m Leonora Craven. I believe you were well acquainted with my brother, Mr. Jonathan Craven, who was a member of your little club, was he not?”
There was nothing to do but wait for Gerard, who had never enjoyed having his authority questioned, to react. But to Frederick’s surprise, his cousin threw his head back and laughed.
“This one has spirit, Freddy,” he said with a wink. “I will enjoy seeing her lead you a merry chase.”
“As for you, my dear,” he said, turning to Leonora with a deceptively sorrowful mien, “your brother was inde
ed a member of our company. I was sorrier than I can say to lose him. As his sister, you are, of course, welcome at any time in my home and in our club. Jonathan was a valued friend and his loss has been felt keenly by all of us.”
As if on cue, the assembled members murmured their agreement. Frederick wondered if they really agreed or if it was simply a rote parroting of their leader’s statement.
Whatever their motives, however, Leonora seemed to take it at face value. She inclined her head regally. “I thank you, Sir Gerard, for the sentiment. My family has been quite bereft without him.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” Gerard responded with what seemed to Frederick like sincerity. “But,” he continued, addressing the room at large, “life goes on, as we all know. And we are gathered both to honor the late Mr. Jonathan Craven and to welcome a new member in his stead.”
Rising, he clapped his hands together, and to both Frederick and Leonora’s surprise, the assembled guests divided into two groups: men on one side and women on the other.
Before Frederick could stop them, two ladies came and took Leonora by the arms, leading her to file out of the room with them in a line of two by two.
It took every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself from going after her. While he suspected Leonora would be safer in the ladies’ company than she would be here with the men, instinctively he disliked having her out of his sight. Especially in his cousin’s home, where anything could happen.
“Lord Frederick Lisle,” Gerard intoned in a voice that would have drawn derision from his younger self only a few years ago, “you have been invited to join the most exclusive and exalted Lords of Anarchy. Is it your wish to enter into this sacred order?”
If he weren’t flanked on either side by men he suspected would not hesitate to use their massive strength to snap him in two, Freddy would have found the whole situation amusing. As it was, however, he had a role to play. And he did not wish to do anything that might endanger Leonora, wherever his cousin’s wife and her cohorts had taken her.
“It is, Sir Gerard,” he said, hoping he displayed the proper amount of sincerity for such an occasion. He’d never been inducted into a glorified fraternity before.
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