Lady Sparrow

by Barbara Metzger

  Lady Sparrowdale’s first stop, accompanied by her butler, was at Mr. Sizemore’s office, where she asked him to search once more through the earl’s files for a list of names, an addendum to a previous will, a personal letter to his deceased partner. The solicitor found nothing, but asked to call on Miss Albright, to assure himself that she was recovered from her harrowing journey.

  The only harrowing part was how often Cousin Dorcas had needed to stop. Mina invited Mr. Sizemore to take dinner with them at the hotel that evening.

  Her second visit was to the bank where the documents relating to the earldom were now kept. The manager there did not know her and would have turned her away, in fact, pending the new earl’s approval, despite the evidence of her elegant mourning silks and priceless pearls. Not even the presence of her distinguished and determined factotum, Harkness at his most formidable, convinced the man to unlock the vault. It was Harkness who suggested sending ’round to the solicitor’s office for a line of credit, so she might withdraw the considerable sums of Lady Sparrowdale’s personal fortune deposited at the bank. The implied threats were for naught. There was no letter or list.

  Mina’s third call was to a real estate office. Lady Sparrowdale refused to reside in a handful of rooms where everyone and his uncle could keep track of her comings and goings through the lobby. Besides, the hotel staff frowned on her dog.

  Fourth, Mina and her escort drove to the office of the newspaper that held Lord Lowell Merrison’s forwarding address. She did not even need Harkness’s dignified presence to sway the clerk there. Bribery did the trick.

  Then she waited in the carriage while Harkness delivered her card to his counterpart at Merrison House. The sprawling building occupied an entire side of Mersford Square, overlooking a garden behind gates. Her private investigator lived here, Mina thought to herself, and she was hiring him? She almost ran after Harkness to retrieve her note begging Lord Lowell to call on her on the morrow.

  She had no choice, however. If the paper she needed was here in London, at Sparr House, Roderick would have burned it by now. Nor would he permit Mina to inspect the safe there, if she could bear to cross his threshold. She did not even have the excuse of looking for some of her belongings, not that Roderick would believe such a faradiddle. Mina had left nothing behind at the earl’s London town house that dreadful Season, nothing except her hopes and dreams.

  But now she had to find Perry, and she needed help. A wealthy man, she supposed, might have to do. She could not purchase his loyalty, but neither could anyone else.

  He was prompt, she credited him with that, the next afternoon, but nothing else. Lord Lowell was too young, too devastatingly handsome. His blue eyes were too merry, with laugh lines at the corners behind the foolish spectacles he wore. He was too rich, with his finely made clothes and highly polished boots, too much the gentleman in his high neckcloth, tightly fitted coat, and courtly bow when Harkness formally announced him at the door to her suite. Mina shook her head. He would never do, this duke’s son turned dilettante detective.

  This might be dirty business, for Mina intended to search every inch of Kensington for Perry and his grandmother. She would visit every foundling hospital and magdalene too, if she had to. She needed a bodyguard, not a Town beau—someone to whom working people would speak. Why, Harkness was more intimidating than this pretty fellow.

  While Mina was examining Lord Lowell, he was scrutinizing his prospective employer. His mother had called the countess a drab, dowdy little squab of a girl. This was a woman. She was small, yes, but Lady Sparrow was fine-boned and delicate, except where she had lush curves. No, she was not a girl anymore, not at all. She was not the classic English beauty, whose blond hair and blue eyes bordered on insipid. Instead, the countess had soft brown eyes, creamy skin, and silky light brown curls that artfully framed her face beneath a scrap of white lace. Her black silk gown had been designed by a master hand to showcase that alluring figure without revealing more than a respectable widow ought, and the lace adornments kept the widow’s weeds from appearing drab. With a strand of pearls that a rajah would have coveted, the woman was anything but drab, anything but dowdy.

  Lud, his mother was right. Lady Sparrow would have every single man in London—and half the married ones, too, he’d wager—worshiping at her feet, without even considering her fortune. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with a Society belle and her beaux. But, damn, he’d grown fond of his new curricle.

  “I am sorry, my lord, but—”

  “I regret, Lady Sparrowdale, that—”

  “I shall go fetch tea, my lady,” Harkness said. “And wine for the gentleman. And digestive biscuits for Miss Albright.” He nodded toward the slightly opened bedroom door, so Lord Lowell would know the countess was not left unchaperoned.

  Mina found herself at a loss for words to dismiss the lordling so recently after sending for him. “I was, ah, expecting someone older,” she began.

  Lowell could not stay he had been expecting someone homelier. He did jump on her words, though, as an out. “I daresay my age will change with time. But I will gladly return your retainer now if you feel I do not suit your needs.”

  “No, the retainer must be yours to keep, for your trouble.”

  “Absolutely not. I could not take payment for doing nothing. Do you enjoy curricle rides?”

  Mina definitely had to get rid of this man. His attics were to let. “I—”

  Then Harkness returned with the refreshments, and Mina could not continue in her butler’s hearing. He’d warned her about hiring a blue blood instead of a Bow Street Runner. He was right; Lord Lowell’s smile seemed to say this was all a great game to him, a joke. He did not need her money, and she could not afford to waste her time. She stood, indicating the interview was over.

  “You’ll come for a ride, then?” Lord Lowell said. “Good. My tiger will be up on back, so you do not have to worry about the properties.” This last was directed at the superior servant, who seemed to care more about the conventions than the mistress.

  Now Mina understood. She could speak more freely outside, too, and she might as well find some pleasure in this day, since she had not found a new employee.

  “It’s yours, you see,” Lowell told the countess as he handed her into the shiny new vehicle. “That is, you own it, if I am not going to work for you. I spent the retainer on it, but we can always sell it if you don’t wish to own the equipage.”

  What was she going to do with a dashing gentleman’s vehicle? She’d never driven anything but a gig, for one thing, and Cousin Dorcas would have palpitations at the height and speed—if she could be convinced to climb aboard. Mina found it exhilarating. The sky was clear, the horses were sleek, the gentleman was attractive—except for his spectacles—and she was not at Sparrows Nest. She looked over at the lordling who played at solving mysteries, and smiled.

  Lowell was lost. He saw sweet innocence and a siren’s seduction, all at once. He knew he would regret it, but if Lady Sparrow had any dragons that needing slaying, he was ready to polish up his armor and his lance. Especially his lance. He smiled back. “I am a competent investigator, you know.”

  “But an unusual one, I daresay.”

  “Quite. My mother despairs of me and my choice of career.”

  Mina noted that he said career, not hobby. That was something, anyway.

  “She remembers you, by the bye,” he said.

  Mina stiffened on the curricle seat. She waited for the insult, the curled lip or the raised brow she’d received the last time she faced a member of the ton. She was Moneybags Malachy’s soiled-dove daughter. She did not belong in their hallowed midst, and their actions plainly told her so.

  When Lord Lowell showed no overt sign of disrespect, she replied, “I met too many people to recall.”

  “Then I doubt you were actually introduced. No one could forget Her Grace. She is quite the grand dame, yet a great gun for all that. She would like to make your reacquaintance.”


  “I am in mourning and do not intend to attend any social functions. In fact, I should not be driving out with you.”

  “Surely a drive in the park is permitted a recent widow, for her health’s sake if nothing else. And a private tea with a duchess cannot be condemned either.”

  He was correct, and it would be ungracious to refuse. “Thank Her Grace for me,” Mina said. “I would be honored to call on her.”

  “Do you know others in Town? Mother would be happy to introduce you to her friends at quiet, unexceptionable gatherings.” Where fortune hunters and philanderers were never admitted. “If my sister were in London, she could introduce you to some of the younger matrons, but she is in the country, awaiting a happy event.”

  “My best wishes to your sister, but I do not intend to stay in the city long enough to require introductions. I wish to conclude my business here as quickly as possible, then be on my way.”

  “Back to the earl’s country seat?”

  “No.” Mina thought that sounded too abrupt, so she added, “That is, I am not certain where I shall go.”

  “But elsewhere. You do not like the city?”

  “I have no fond memories, no.”

  Lowell enjoyed the symphony London played, all the movements and varied tempos. He wanted Lady Sparrow to hear the music too. “You were a green girl then. Your reception would be quite different now.”

  “Of course. Now my birth will only be whispered about after my bank account, not before. But I am not here to establish my place in society.”

  “No, I did not think so. Perhaps we should discuss why you did come, and why you purchased yourself this fine new curricle.”

  Chapter Nine

  Speak of her most private affairs to this perfect stranger, in front of his tiger? Mina could not. She could not trust Lord Lowell, so how could she trust his groom? He was too perfect—the duke’s son, not the servant—that was the problem. Lord Lowell was well born, well-to-pass, and well favored. Well, that was enough to make his behavior suspect. Mina thought he should be out sowing wild oats, or whatever it was sons of the nobility did when they were not preening in front of their mirrors. Granted, his lordship had made a fuss over Merlin, bending to pet the barking dog without worrying over hairs on his fawn breeches or scuffs on his Hessians. That was a mark in his favor, but he was still too young. The gentleman had less than thirty years in his dish, Mina estimated, and in no way resembled the reliable, settled old soul she had pictured.

  “You know,” she said as he expertly tooled the pair of horses around a stopped carrier’s cart, “you might as well take those foolish spectacles off. They do not make you appear older or more competent, as you obviously intended.”

  Lowell took the glasses off with his whip hand and handed them to her. “And here I thought I was impressing you by looking wise.”

  Mina held the spectacles up and gasped. She could barely see through them. She was mortified at her rudeness—and horrified that he was driving the carriage half blind! “Here. Put them on. Quickly.”

  He did and then smiled, so Mina did not feel quite as cabbage-headed. He had a very nice smile, she noted. In fact, Lord Lowell seemed a very nice man. And she had no guarantee of finding a better individual to conduct her inquiries. So she asked, “Are you wed?”

  The reins almost fell through his fingers. “Good grief, no. Why?”

  “I realize it is a personal question, but my investigations might require travel. A married man might not be willing or able to leave Town, in my company. I did not wish to offend anyone, or give rise to unnecessary gossip.”

  “My mother will be in alt, although she will miss me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why will she be in alt? Because she lives in hopes of seeing me wed. Why will she miss me? Because she is used to having me around to harangue about not providing her with more grandchildren. After my father died and my sister and brother both married, she was so lonely that I moved back into Merrison House to keep her company.”

  “No, why have you not married?”

  Lord Lowell turned the horses into the Hyde Park gate. “Now that is a personal question.”

  Mina’s cheeks flooded with color. He truly would think her a country lumpkin with all the polish of a prize pig. “I apologize. It is just that with your obvious advantages, I would have thought . . .”

  “My so-called advantages are more pride-worthy than practical. I do not choose to be a hanger-on to my brother and his growing family, and on my own I cannot afford to keep a wife in style. Therefore I have decided to remain single. The dukedom has heirs aplenty, so I am not reneging on any familial obligation.” He guided the pair along one of the lesser used paths. “But what of you, since we are discussing private matters of a matrimonial nature. Do you intend to remarry? Perhaps find a new husband while you are here in London?”

  “No,” Mina answered quickly. “And no.” Her negatives were very quick indeed, Lowell noticed, and very definite.

  “Then at least we can both be certain we will not be trapped into marriage by a compromising situation,” he said, “should we decide to travel together.”

  Mina left off admiring the scenery, the strollers, the toy boats on the Serpentine, to address Lord Lowell’s profile. “I am a widow, my lord, and thus have more leeway in my conduct. I am, however, neither an adventuress nor a schemer. Your bachelorhood is safe. My maid will travel with us, of course, or my butler. My cousin is too infirm and hates being jostled about, or she would come along to satisfy the conventions. No one will claim compromise, I swear it, by our sharing a carriage.”

  “Are we indeed to share a carriage, then?” They had reached a clearing just off the bridle path, and Lowell got down to hand Lady Sparrowdale out of the carriage for a stroll to where they might have privacy. She was as light as the proverbial feather, he noticed, and graceful. “Am I hired?”

  A ball rolled in front of them, and Lowell picked it up and tossed it to the boys playing across the field. He whistled in admiration when one of the boys caught it.

  Mina had been all set to say no, that he was not the kind of man she needed, but Lord Lowell was laughing, running to catch another wayward ball. He was fond of his mother, kind to children and dogs—what more could Mina ask, with any reasonable hope of being answered? By now they were far away from the curricle and the tiger. Other strollers were in the distance, out of hearing. Lord Lowell took her arm to lead her over uneven spots in the path. He truly appeared a gentle man.

  She nodded. “If you will undertake my investigation.”

  “That depends on the nature of your problem, of course,” Lowell said, having already decided to aid the pretty little widow if he possibly could. He did not like seeing the troubled look in those velvety brown eyes. “It is time to open your budget, my lady. Nothing can be accomplished if you do not trust me, so you have to choose now. I will understand entirely if you do not wish to pursue our business relationship.”

  He would understand, but he would still be saddened. Then again, if Lady Sparrow were not his client, Lowell considered, he might think of pursuing a different sort of relationship altogether. Neither of them sought marriage, but that did not preclude other courtship rituals. In fact, he was certain he’d be among the legions calling at the Clarendon. He would still rather earn the widow’s regard by solving the dilemma that brought her to London and led her to pay him such a substantial retainer. “I’d ask only that you permit me to accompany you home before you take over the curricle. I do not fancy walking the distance across town.”

  Mina did not need a new curricle. She needed a confidant. Lord Lowell was smiling, sunlight reflecting off his blond hair and glasses, making him look like a seraph in a golden aura. Or a guardian angel, perhaps. She nodded again and took a deep breath. “It started with the money.”

  “It usually does. Go on.”

  Before continuing, Mina asked, “Do you think it improper for a woman to delve into financial matters? There are
those who felt I had no business taking over the Sparrows Nest ledgers at all when my husband passed away.”

  “How could it be improper for a woman to understand her own circumstances as a widow? Every female of a responsible age should have some awareness of her true situation, so she is neither outrunning the bailiffs constantly, squeezing her every shilling until it squeaks, or pawning the family heirlooms.”

  He peered closely under the rim of Lady Sparrowdale’s black bonnet to see if any of his postulations drew a reaction. No, she did not appear to have a guilty conscience. He was glad.

  So was Mina. “I do not think I could continue with a man who felt women should be content with their needlework and gossip and leave everything of moment to the masculine gender. I have learned that most gentlemen believe a woman’s smaller stature correspondingly lessens her ability to think.”

  “I am not most gentlemen.”

  So Mina was beginning to see, and she felt better about enlisting a stranger—this stranger—to her cause.

  “So you inspected the accounts?” he prompted, bringing her back to the matter at hand.

  “Yes, and I discovered some discrepancies. At first I was merely curious where the funds were going, since I found no notations of those withdrawals. My recently deceased husband’s account books did not tally, it seemed, by fairly large, consistent amounts.”

  “I certainly would have been curious also, but I have a naturally inquisitive nature, I suppose, drawing me to this line of work. What did you do then?”

  “I consulted the estate agent, the bank officer, and the earl’s solicitor. None was cooperative.”

  Lowell paused to wipe his spectacles. When they resumed walking, he said, “They were most likely trying to protect you from unpleasant discoveries, unsuitable for a recent widow’s sensitive nature.”