A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I imagine she will.” Silence formed, and after a minute or so, he fidgeted. “Why did you come to Bath, Miss Nelson?” he finally asked.
“Miss Dunbar resides here, of course.” I knew he wasn’t talking about why I was in this house specifically, but I saw no reason to fall right into his rather obvious trap. I couldn’t forget that his was one of only two names that Miss Anderson had associated with my brother.
He gave a frustrated huff. “There were no opportunities for you in London? Surely being close to Miss Sinclair, who you seemed to be particularly attached to, would have been more ideal.”
Raising my eyebrow, I entwined my fingers together. “Where I find employment is none of your business, Mr. Harper.”
To my surprise, my refusal to answer made him chuckle. “Where did you come from, Miss Nelson? Your directness is refreshing.”
“Oh? What a change! You didn’t think so before.”
Inclining his head slightly, Mr. Harper acknowledged the statement. “That is true, but at the time I didn’t think I could trust you.”
“But you think you can trust me now?” That made me feel a little guilty because I didn’t trust him. Not entirely.
“Certainly not,” he said quickly. “I still believe you are lying, and I find it strange that you came to Bath of all places.”
The guilt I had felt for a moment was gone immediately. “Why shouldn’t I come to Bath?” I asked, defensiveness creeping into my tone despite my best efforts. “Is there some secret here that you don’t want me to discover?”
His eyes narrowed. “That seems to be a specific question. Are you seeking the answer to a secret?”
“Everyone has secrets.” I sent a glance at the pocket watch I had left on the pianoforte. Miss Dunbar would be returning soon, and she, especially, wouldn’t be pleased to know I had a male visitor. “I think it’s time for you to leave now, Mr. Harper.”
“If you knew what was good for you, you would leave Bath before something happens to you,” Mr. Harper said, ignoring what I had said. “I may not be on hand to save you should misfortune befall you. Again. If Miss Sinclair confided in you the circumstances of her brother’s death and you’ve come here to learn more for her, you’re deliberately putting yourself in danger again.”
It was remarkably close to the truth if missing one crucial fact, and I wasn’t surprised that he had put it together. After all, I hadn’t made it a secret that I was ‘helping’ Juliet Sinclair redeem her family’s name. I would have been disappointed if he hadn’t figured out the reason I was in Bath.
“So, you’re saying that the man who killed Mr. Jonathan Sinclair is still in Bath?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I didn’t say that.”
He really must not trust me if he warns me about danger but then denies the reason for the reason within a minute. “You didn’t have to. Now, why don’t you explain how I am in danger. Otherwise, I do have other things that require my attention.”
My simple request was met with a frustrated huff. Boldly, I moved around him and went to the door. I opened and stood aside. “Good day, Mr. Harper.”
Part of me hoped that he would have something else to say to me. Instead, he gave an abrupt bow and strode out. Breathing out, I shut the door and leaned against it. At least my suspicions had been proven correct.
The man who killed my brother was still in Bath.
Chapter Seven
When I asked Bunker why Mr. Harper had been allowed into the servants’ part of the house, I was met with a blank stare. “Was someone here, Nelson?” he asked, a frown beginning to form on his face. “A gentleman?”
“Well, yes. He came to Mrs. Dobbs’ sitting room while I was playing the pianoforte. I assumed you had directed him there since Miss Dunbar was not at home, though I could not think of why you would have done so. He didn’t indicate otherwise when I questioned him.”
Bunker’s puzzlement shifted to outright anger. “This is outrageous! To think young men believe they can walk into this house without a by-your-leave! If it ever occurs again, and I hope it does not, call out for help immediately, Miss Nelson. It will be better for us to be embarrassed than to have something worse occur.”
“Yes, sir.” I ought to have called for help when I first realized Mr. Harper was once again in an area he had no business to be in. Deep down, though, I knew why I hadn’t done so. I was glad he had sought me out.
Even if it was only to warn me out of Bath, for by doing so, he revealed he thought of me. If only with annoyance.
Resisting the urge to shake my head, I sternly admonished myself not to encourage an attachment. After all, I wasn’t done with my subterfuge just yet and to pursue any relationship would entail having to be completely honest with him. And I couldn’t even be sure if he was honest with me.
“I cannot recall a Mr. Harper ever visiting Miss Dunbar before,” Bunker replied, getting my attention.
A strange, unfamiliar feeling wormed its way into my mind at the idea of Mr. Harper being part of Miss Dunbar’s beaus. It took a second for me to realize what it was: jealousy. No. It did not matter to me who the man chose to inflict his presence on. I had more important matters with which to concern myself.
“Miss Nelson?”
With a start, I realized that Bunker was staring at me. Had he asked me a question? “I beg your pardon, sir,” I said quickly, trying to cover my inattentiveness. “I was trying to think whether I had seen the man speak to Miss Dunbar on her walks and I do not believe I have seen such a meeting take place. What was it you said?”
“Miss Dunbar’s suitors come and go,” Bunker said dismissively. “I asked if you had any other complaints?”
I gave a negative response to that. I’d been treated better by the other staff than I’d expected when I arrived, but those who worked in the Dunbar house had no reason to dislike me from the start as had been the case in London. Satisfied, the butler went on his way, shaking his head. No doubt he was already planning how to make the house more secure against any further intrusions.
Mr. Harper would discover his access to me was not easy if he should attempt to see me again. Not that I expected him to or even wanted him to come back.
It was only when I prepared for bed that night that I was able to consider what I had learned since coming to Bath. Miss Anderson had only remembered two names when asked about Jonathan’s companions: Mr. Ingram and Mr. Harper. Either of them could know something about how my brother had died.
On the surface, Mr. Harper’s innocence could be proven by his warning to me. Or was it a front to conceal the fact that he was the man who had killed Jonathan.
Or was I overthinking the whole thing? Seeing secrets where there were none because I was weighed down with my own secrets?
Mr. Ingram, on the other hand, made it all too easy to believe he could have been involved in something nefarious. He had already shown a tendency towards slyness with his method of passing notes to Miss Dunbar through me.
Not that such an act in and of itself was wrong. Many young men chose to bribe a maid to make sure their sweetheart received letters. Henry Bladen had done the same not so long ago. Mr. Ingram had not demonstrated the slightest bit of romantic interest in Rose Dunbar, though, and that is why his behavior was suspect in my eyes.
In any event, I had two people to focus my attention on. Neither of them would be easy to get information from, though, mostly due to my previous encounters with them both. I feared Mr. Harper would discover my identity before I was ready to leave Julie Nelson behind, and the thought of actively seeking out Mr. Ingram left a sour taste in my mouth.
Sliding between the sheets of my bed, I settled in for the night. I lifted the candle and blew out the flame, sending my room into darkness.
Of course, I couldn’t forget the threat of Uncle Frederick arranging a marriage for me. I resolved to pen a letter, using gentle but firm terms, to inform him that such a co
urse of action was completely unacceptable. Unless I also managed to convince Aunt Beth in my letter to her of the same thing, however, I knew I would not have heard the last of the matter.
UNSURPRISINGLY, MISS Dunbar’s amiable disposition didn’t last for long. It was almost reassuring for her to return to her usual behavior. Enduring her complaints and abuse, though, did nothing to improve my mood.
Was it a coincidence that her behavior changed after a message from Mr. Ingram?
When I followed Miss Dunbar once again to the Lower Pump Room, I was on edge as I watched for any sign of Henry Bladen or Mr. Harper. Instead, due to my inattention to any other person, I collided with a young lady.
“Pardon me.” Swiftly, I disentangled myself from her and stepped back to bob a quick curtsey. Fortunately for me, my employer had already entered the building, and the lady was someone I knew. “Please forgive me. I fear I was not watching where I was going, Miss Anderson.”
“Oh, Miss Nelson,” the young lady voiced with a gentle smile. “I would guess that we were both not paying attention to our surroundings. I am pleased to see you again, though. I’ve been hoping our paths would cross again so we could talk about Jonathan—I should say, Mr. Sinclair.”
Her slips reminded me of the struggle I had endured to not refer to Henry Bladen by his Christian name whenever I spoke of him. A feeling of regretful sadness threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed it aside. He’d had his chance to prove his affection for me, and he had failed to do so. Why should I be the one looking back as though I had lost?
“I am always delighted to speak with a friend of the Sinclairs,” I said with complete honesty. “In fact, I was hoping you might have remembered more about who Mr. Sinclair’s companions were while he was here in Bath.”
“I’m afraid—” She was cut off by a young boy knocking her off balance. “Oh, my!”
I was in the exact right angle to notice that she was now missing her reticule. Before I could raise my voice, someone else took notice. “Boy! Stop!” Mr. Melbourne’s familiar voice shouted, and then the tall man raced past us.
“Who is that?” Miss Anderson asked in confusion. A blush spread across her cheeks as we came under the scrutiny of others. She reached for her reticule and found it missing. “Oh, no!”
“Never fear, Miss Anderson,” I reassured her. “Surely you know Mr. Melbourne is a most reliable gentleman. He will retrieve your reticule for you.”
“Mr. Melbourne? Do you mean Mr. Adam Melbourne?”
With society so small in Bath, it came as a surprise that she did not recognize him. “Yes. He lost a cane to a young thief not too long ago—the same thief who has made off with your purse, if I’m not mistaken. Retrieving it will undoubtedly be a matter of honor for—” I broke off as I noted the frown on her face. “Is there something wrong, Miss Anderson?”
“I simply did not realize...” Her voice trailed away as she shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I suppose I never had a face to connect with the name. Mr. Sinclair’s stories of him left me with the impression he was little more than a boy.”
“Mr. Sinclair's stories are five years old by this point,” I said, keeping my tone gentle as I made the reminder. “Were Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Melbourne friends then?”
“I’m not sure that is the right way to put it, but they were in each other’s company often enough. Mr. Sinclair was constantly pulling the young man out of some scrape or other. I believe Mr. Sinclair thought of himself as a kind of mentor to the man. Oh, look!”
The subject of our conversation was coming toward us. Miss Anderson’s pale blue reticule was in his left hand and a squirming boy in his right. “Apologize to the lady,” Mr. Melbourne almost demanded, his tone stern.
“Sorry, Miss,” the boy said, keeping his gaze on the ground. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old. His clothes were ragged and dirty. And, as I had guessed, it was the same young thief who had knocked into me before.
“Oh, you poor child! You must be hungry!” Miss Anderson exclaimed, her voice tinged with sympathy. She snatched her reticule from Mr. Melbourne and opened it. She pulled a coin out and held it out to him. “Here. Get yourself something warm to eat.”
Mr. Melbourne’s eyebrows rose so high, they nearly vanished. Before the man could voice his protest, the boy grabbed the coin, escaped his captor’s grip, and then bolted. Mr. Melbourne took a step to pursue him once again but stopped himself. The thief vanished around the corner a few moments later.
“Rewarding a scamp like that might not have been the best course of action,” Mr. Melbourne said, censure in his voice. He faced Miss Anderson as he spoke. “He just tried to steal from you.”
“Rewarding? The boy was in dire need of food!” Miss Anderson’s voice rose with indignation, and she raised her chin in a show of defiance. “It was the Christian thing to do. What would you have me do, Mr. Melbourne? Have him dragged to the nearest magistrate where he might be sent to an awful work house? Or hung for his crime? Is that the fate you would wish for the boy?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Miss—” As Mr. Melbourne’s voice trailed away with uncertainty I remembered that they had not been formally introduced. Was it proper for a maid to make the introduction? Somehow, I didn’t think so.
“Good day, sir.” Miss Anderson spun on her heel and strode away.
Mr. Melbourne belatedly pulled his hat from his head as he turned his attention on me. “Miss Nelson. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Mr. Melbourne,” I said, giving a brief nod in acknowledgment.
“Who was that...singular young lady?”
“I don’t think I should tell you,” I said, forcing myself to keep from smiling. “It didn’t seem as though she wished to make your acquaintance.”
The young man shook his head as if to clear it. “I gather Miss Dunbar is within?” he asked.
“She is.” I kept my response short, not wanting to give anything away. He still seemed too nice a person to be interested in someone like Miss Dunbar. I had to remind myself that a servant wasn’t supposed to show emotion or give an opinion.
Returning his hat to his head, Mr. Melbourne studied me. “You sound disappointed. You don’t approve my pursuit of your employer?”
Apparently, I needed to work on controlling my face better. “Me? Disappointed? That is an absurd notion, sir. Whom you chose to chase has nothing to do with me, and whom Miss Dunbar allows to court her has no bearing on me either.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “If you insist.”
“I hear you knew Mr. Jonathan Sinclair,” I said bluntly, hoping to get some reaction from him. I would much rather speak to him about my brother than confront Mr. Ingram. He might have a different perspective if Jonathan had been the one who kept him from trouble.
“Sinclair?” Mr. Melbourne repeated, visibly surprised. “Funny. You’re the second person to mention that name this past week.”
“Really? Who was the first?”
Even as I spoke, his gaze shifted past me. “I see someone I have to speak to. Good day, Miss Nelson. Give my regards to Miss Dunbar. No, on second thought, I will find her myself once I finish speaking to my friend.”
Before I could say a word, he was on his way, stepping around me. Twisting around, I saw Mr. Harper across the street. He inclined his head in my direction before extending his hand to Mr. Melbourne. The two men walked away, their backs to me.
“Why am I not surprised?” If I had to guess, he was the one who had mentioned my brother’s name to Mr. Melbourne. And now that he’d seen me talking to the young man, Mr. Harper would warn him from speaking to me again. At least, that’s what I would have to assume.
Someone cleared his throat behind me. “Miss Sinclair?”
I knew that voice. As much as I was not in the mood to speak to him, I was grateful he hadn’t come up while I was talking to those who knew me only as Miss Nelson. For a moment, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Mr.
Bladen.”
“I had no idea you were in Bath.” Henry Bladen’s voice was bewildered. “When did you arrive?”
“Anyone who can manage to do so comes to Bath this time of year.” As I spoke, I faced Mr. Bladen. “After all, you are here. From what I remember, you were never fond of this place.”
His appearance hadn’t changed at all, though his attire was of a more excellent quality than I remember him having before. In fact, his vest was a garish red. Had he succumbed to the temptation to become a dandy? I would have thought better of him, but the years had made it clear that I had never really known him at all.
“Who are you visiting?” he asked, ignoring my barb about his feelings about Bath.
“Friends.” Hopefully, that vague answer and my cold tone would be enough to keep him from questioning me further. I would hate to voice a lie, especially since it would be all too easily discovered.
Mr. Bladen frowned. “I wasn’t aware you had friends here.”
“Things change in five years.” Maybe that was a little harsh, but it was the truth. He had changed. I had changed. Granted, I hadn’t made many new friends in the last five years, but he shouldn’t have assumed such a thing.
“My apologies,” he said stiffly. “I did not intend to cause offense.”
“Apology accepted.” It felt good to be back in a role that was not that of lady’s maid. “If you’ll excuse—”
“Juliet—I mean, Miss Sinclair, please,” Mr. Bladen pleaded, reaching out as though he wanted to grab my arm. “Please don’t rush off. We were friends once. Can we not talk for a few minutes? There can be nothing objectionable to that.”
He sounded desperate and a bit lonely. The slip in using a Christian name that I had found rather adorable from Miss Anderson was annoying coming from the man I’d once been courted by. “I don’t think there is anything for us to discuss, Mr. Bladen.”
The Debutante: A Regency Mystery (The Sinclair Society Book 2) Page 6