“Too proper!” Andrew sighed. “I've been out of University for a year now, and she still insists on knowing my every move. I would like to re-open my father's townhouse here in London and reside there. You must understand, it is rather hard to be, well, as a man should be, when you are sharing an establishment with your mother and your elderly grandmother.”
Miss Murdock let out a small giggle. “I understand,” she said. “My father was quite eager to take St. James up on his offer to—to let me visit here, for I fear he was in the same predicament, having a daughter about the place, I mean. The very sensible routines I prescribed to keep him healthy and whole seemed to irk him considerably. He would much rather eat at odd hours and drink late into the night over a hand of cards with his cronies than worry about his daughter alone in the house with naught for protection but an old groom.”
“Oh,” Earl Larrimer exclaimed as he laughed. “That is sorry. I can see that even my cousin would be moved to kindness over that state of affairs.”
“You see!” Miss Murdock pointed out. “You have just used that word and you meant nothing disreputable by it! And strangely enough, your mother said much the same thing, only I am afraid it was because of my appearance rather than any knowledge of my wayward, widower father. I very much fear that St. James more than likely took pity on my father, being unable to do as he wished, than on me at any rate.”
They were both laughing at these sayings when Andrew sobered and said, “But, Miss Murdock, there is nothing at all wrong with your appearance. You are interesting and glowing.”
“Pshaw,” Miss Murdock said, not at all intimidated now as she had been before. “And I assure you it is only an illusion created by a good dressmaker, for if I were as I normally am, you would not think so.”
“Well, neither are half the other chits that are in society then, I assure you,” he countered. “And you do not see them putting a disclaimer upon themselves that once you marry one of them and get them home that mayhaps they are not all you thought they were. Neither are the gentlemen, for that matter, and I should not tell you our secrets, but you really are the most easy girl to talk to I have ever met,” and he nodded at her look of disbelief. “No, Miss Murdock, I am not going brown, I assure you, but am merely being honest, for they mostly wish to talk about the most insipid things. If they were only interested in something worth being interested in, like dueling or race horsing—”
“Oh, but I am interested in race horsing,” Miss Murdock broke in, rather proud of herself. “In fact that is how I met your cousin, for he took an interest in my horse, Gold-Leaf-Lying-in-the-Sun. And as I am given to understand that he owns Behemoth, I am very flattered indeed, for that shows he has a good eye for horseflesh.”
“Indeed he does, Miss Murdock, for that is his only other passion other than seeking the murderer of his parents.” He stopped abruptly. “Oh, should not have mentioned that, I am sure. Not common knowledge, I don't believe.” And he looked very guilty indeed.
Miss Murdock was quiet for a moment, all the laughter going out of her, which was rather sad when she had been having such a splendid time with her new friend. “I have already come to understand that,” she said, because she could not bear to see him so obviously silently berating himself. “So please do not feel that you have betrayed your cousin in any way.”
“Well,” he said, his head hanging in dejection. “I am glad that I have not told you anything you did not know or at least suspected, but it was still damned careless of me, for I am sure he has tried very hard to be circumspect as it would not do to tip off the person he seeks, especially if St. James should ever get a good lead onto him.” He raised his head and the bantering young man that had been before her a moment ago was quite gone, and he reminded her suddenly most painfully of his cousin. “That is why I most wish to reside independently from my mother and grandmother,” he told Miss Murdock in a sudden outpouring of confidence. “I would so much wish to help St. James in his task, and I can not feel as though I can do it from here for I am afraid of putting my mother and the Duchess in any danger.”
“Oh, you can not!” Miss Murdock sprang from her seat in her shocked dismay. She entreated the young man in front of her. “Can you not see how utterly consumed your cousin has become with this quest? And from what I understand, it may very well all be futile! He would not wish you to sacrifice any chance at happiness as he has, I can assure you of that!”
“You do not understand!” he returned with sudden, young savagery. “For a man to go through life knowing that there is an enemy out there that has harmed members of his family and goes yet unpunished! Why it can only be that you are a woman that you would dream a man could just forget about that and go on. It is the responsibility of every Larrimer from now until the end of time to seek vengeance!”
“That is obscene,” Miss Murdock broke in, wide-eyed. “Why the murderer could possibly be already dead. What then? Do you seek out his children and punish them?”
“If what they have is a direct result of my uncle's dying, then yes! We should at least deny them of what was gained if we can not kill the actual perpetrator of the deed! They can not be allowed to profit in any way from it.”
Miss Murdock felt a wave of dizziness come over her and she sank back down onto the settee. If she had allowed St. James to elope with her last night, had allowed him to get her, as he said, God willing, with child, would her own son if it had been a son, been raised on this same vengeful wrath? And my God, what had she been thinking if these thoughts should upset her to such a degree? She could not believe that she had been becoming complacent, pliable, open to his suggestion of marriage!
Andrew was on his knees in front of her and he patted her hand to induce her to open her eyes. “Miss Murdock. Sara. I am so sorry. I do not know what came over me to make me speak in such a manner to you. It is quite unforgivable of me. I totally lost all sense of decorum, for I know perfectly well that this subject is not at all suitable for a female. I pray that you are all right! I beg that you forgive me!”
Miss Murdock sucked in a deep, calming breath. “Lizzie,” she
said.
“I beg your pardon,” Andrew said. “What?”
“Lizzie,” Miss Murdock gave a weak smile. “My friends call me Lizzie, so you must also. And yes, of course, I forgive you. I am not usually so fainthearted, it just. . . disturbs me very much to hear you talk so. I beg you to, if nothing else, speak to your cousin of all this before you do anything on your own. Will you promise me that, Earl Larrimer?”
“Andrew. If I am to call you Lizzie, you must call me Andrew. And of course I will promise you that if you will forgive me.”
“It is done. Think nothing more of it,” Lizzie replied. “And I must really go up to my rooms, for I must still be very tired to be behaving so missishly.”
“Do you wish me to escort you up the stairs?” Andrew asked as he got up from his knees and held an anxious hand on her arm to help her up.
“No. That is not necessary although I thank you for the offer. I
have enjoyed meeting you very much, Andrew.”
“And I you, Lizzie.”
She left the room, a swirl of red and white stripes, and mounted the stairs with no indication of weakness now. But she felt rather cold, for although she had not wished to aid the duke in his plans before she had not felt as though she were going to betray those plans either, but she now realized that it would have to be one or the other, and that she had no stomach for what he offered. If she had allowed herself in some deep recess of her mind to believe that there was some hope of miracles happening and happiness somehow, someway waiting, she understood now that she had been deluding herself quite completely, if only very briefly. An old Duchess and an old dressmaker's romantic dreams had been just a little contagious and she had caught them. But now, Miss Murdock assured herself, she was quite, quite cured.
In her room, upon reflection, she realized that deciding to leave and setting out were two
different things. Besides a few pence in her reticule, she had no funds. The only horse she owned was, she assumed, at the residence of St. James himself, and she would not pay back the Duchess's kindness by stealing a horse on top of her desertion. Which thoughts led her back to where they always began. She would have to convince St. James for once and for all. It had been he that had taken her from her home, and it would have to be he that sent her back.
With this thought, Miss Murdock kicked off her slippers and lay back on her bed to think of what arguments she could use. And she prayed that he would not be drinking this time.
St. James rode into the stables of his grandmother's house and dismounted. “Tyler, you scraggly old scoundrel, where are you?”
An insolent splat of tobacco landing near the high-glossed shine of his boots was his first indication that his groom was on hand. “Aye, milord, right where you left me, and damned unhappy about it, too.”
“Bah, Tyler. Spend a couple of nights away from your own comfy bed and you are crying like a woman. You are getting old and soft.”
“Soft in the head to be listening to the likes of you, I agree,” Tyler returned with an impudent smile. “What's in t'works now, milord? Mayhaps I can return to my rightful position instead of spending my days saddle-soaping leather that does not even belong in my care?”
“No. Sorry, Tyler. See anything unusual this morning or last night?”
Tyler shook his head, spat another stream of tobacco from his mouth, this time into the drainage ditch to the side. “Not that I can
say.”
“Any visitors to the house?”
“None that I've seen.”
St. James rubbed his upper lip with his gloved finger, his gold eyes looking up into the face of his groom before him. “Odd. Very odd. I am nearly certain that a letter my grandmother sent by messenger to my home had been intercepted. But it had her undisturbed seal on the back of it, which convinced me that if it were intercepted it had to be by someone who had access to her seal.”
“Mayhaps some one has made a copy of the seal, milord.”
“Mayhaps so, but who would go to the trouble before hand? For it is not something that someone could whip up on a moment's notice.”
“Perhaps they have had it on hand from needing it in times past.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” St. James agreed with dark expression. “Every staff member in this house has been with my grandmother for years, and I have long since been able to ascertain that there was none among them that would have done my family harm.”
Tyler scratched his head. “There is the new lady's maid that arrived in the wee hours of the morning, milord,” he said.
“Yes. I had thought of that. I already have someone working on her background. She is much too young, I gather, to have been involved in a crime of twenty-three years ago, but it is possible that someone has approached her, induced her to gather information. But. . .” St. James pondered for a moment, and he snapped his quirt against his boot, causing his horse behind him to jerk its head up. He gathered the reins a little tighter in his hand, then said to Tyler, “Who ever intercepted this has a very good fist. Ask Ashton if he has any thing from this new lady's maid that shows her handwriting. A letter of application for employment, anything. I want to see it as soon as possible.”
“I'll take care of it, milord,” Tyler agreed. “But you sound as if you are not hopeful in that direction.”
“No. I'm not. Something about it just does not feel right. For someone to be able to orchestrate her being here under such bizarre circumstances as we arrived is either impossible or, more ominous, shows that we have been watched quite closely and our moves had already been anticipated. Which would put me very much at a disadvantage.” He gave a sudden curse. “Damn, Tyler. Either I am up against someone that is truly genius, or I am being blind on some point that I can not fathom. Which I can not comprehend, for I have gone slowly and thoroughly and there can be nothing I have missed. Nothing.”
Tyler moved uncomfortably. “Here, milord. I know it. But take heart, for if your suspicion is correct about the letter, then obviously you have moved someone t'begin taking action, which is more than we have seen since you began searching.”
St. James brightened at this observation. “Yes. You are right, Tyler. What began as only a hunch on my part, a last desperate measure, is suddenly appearing to be promising. But I needn't tell you that it raises all the more questions in my mind.”
“Such as why it should matter if you marry?”
“Precisely. It would seem to point toward someone whose inheritance is at stake, but that is impossible in this situation.” He paused, thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Utterly impossible. I have gone over this time and time again. Andrew who is to inherit if I die without issue was not even born at the time of my parents' deaths. And my uncle, who would have inherited at the time, I had to mark off because of the strength of his character and morals. In fact, it was he that first set me to looking, and he had been searching all the years prior to my reaching my majority. And now, if there had been any doubt, which I had felt none, he is dead. So if he had been the purveyor of these schemes it would be quite impossible for this present action to be taking place. Endless circles,” he sighed at the end of his words. “Always, if only I could deduce what had been to gain by their deaths, and presumably my own, for I was supposed to have been in that coach as well, then I would know, I am sure, who was behind the all of it.”
“I know, milord,” Tyler said. “But we will know, I am sure of that. I only hope that we know in time to keep you safe.”
“And Miss Murdock. For I begin to fear. . .” He turned, mounted his horse. “Talk to Ashton immediately, Tyler. If this lady's maid is some sort of threat, the last thing I want is for her to be attending to Miss Murdock alone in her bedchamber.”
“Aye, milord,” Tyler said. “But I can not believe that Miss Murdock would be very accommodating of any schemes t'have harm befall her.”
To which St. James was forced to chuckle. “I am certain you are correct on that point, Tyler, but Miss Murdock does not have the advantage of being wary, so we must help her out a bit.” He turned his horse, ducking his head to avoid a heavy supporting beam above him, then stopped to add over his shoulder, “I shall be back this evening for an appointment with my grandmother, as she has quite imperiously demanded my presence. I fear from her note that Miss Murdock has let rather more out of the bag than I thought she would, but I can not really blame her for I well know how much pressure my grandmother can bring to bear. At any rate, I shall be here, to salvage what I can.
“You may inform me of your findings then, unless it is something urgent, in which case you may find me at my solicitor's for now. I'll leave word at my house where to find me if the need should arise after that.”
“Aye, milord. Until tonight.”
“Until tonight.” St. James rode out into the bright sunshine of the afternoon, but he did not even notice it, he was so intent upon his thoughts.
A half hour later he handed his reins to a young boy of perhaps thirteen who volunteered to watch his lordship's horse for tuppence if milordship would not be above an hour, that is. Which St. James, smiling at such audacity, flipped him the coins in agreement and strode into the busy office of C. Edmund Bickerstaff, Barrister of Law.
He was shown into that old gentleman's office, where the gray haired, rather emaciated man rose from behind his large desk and leaned over to shake hands. “Milord. I am nearly as surprised to see you today as I was to get your message of last night! Surprised and also somewhat relieved. Are congratulations indeed in order, or have I been the victim of some preposterous joke? Although I must tell you, it was your man himself that delivered it!”
“And have you begun the paperwork I indicated?” St. James asked as he let go of his solicitor's hand and, flipping his coat tails up, seated himself in one of the slatted back chairs.
Barrister Bickersta
ff harrumphed, said, “Well, milord, I have begun to carefully research any and all changes that will need to be made and to get the proper paper work in order. Of course, I will need your signature upon everything. And a copy of the marriage certificate.”
St. James crossed one leg over the other. “There will be a slight, very slight delay on that document,” he told the man across from him. “At this point, I wish you to continue getting everything in order just as I instructed. I would like to have it ready for my signature on a moment's notice, so I would appreciate it if you made this an item of some priority.”
“I can do that, milord,” the Barrister said, sounding relieved at this delay. “And you are aware that your marriage will enlarge upon your responsibilities somewhat significantly?”
St. James cocked his head. “No. I am not. Please enlighten me, Charles.”
The Barrister straightened the stack of papers in front of him. “I would not have known it myself except that I had made it my business to review all of the provisions of your will, your father's will at the time of his death, and as I saw that we unexpectedly had a copy of your uncle's will, his also.”
“Very thorough,” St. James agreed.
“Everything was as I had expected, until I got to your uncle's will. I had not handled his affairs, you know, and so I was rather surprised to see that we had a copy of his will in our files. It had been sent to us by his solicitor, a,” and he paused a moment, picking up his spectacles and holding them briefly in front of his eyes as he read from the documents in front of him, “Barrister Collins of Bedford Street, here in London.”
“Yes. I'm familiar with whom my uncle used as his solicitor. Go on.”
“As I was saying, it was sent to us by Barrister Collins as there are certain provisions in there that concern you. Upon your marriage, you are to take control of all of his affairs concerning, and I shall read it to you: . . . his widow if still living, and his son, Andrew Harold Larrimer, if not yet married. Upon Andrew's marriage, these holdings will revert to him, as sole heir, and all affairs, holdings, properties, and otherwise that were previously beneath the control of said widow, Lady Lydia Francis Taylor Larrimer, will also revert to control of said son. Until the date of son's marriage, and after date of Duke of St. James, Dante William Larrimer's marriage, all these assets will be in the possession and control of said Duke, and will be retained by said Duke in the event of premature death of son, Andrew. The Barrister looked up from the paper, dropping his spectacles and meeting the eyes of St. James.
In the Brief Eternal Silence Page 17