Mischief

by Amanda Quick

  “Which is rubbish.” Matthias lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “That damned notion of a curse persists only because the seal was said to be extremely valuable. Legends always abound concerning objects of great worth.”

  “Your own researches claim that the seal is fashioned of a very pure gold and encrusted with valuable gems,” Imogen reminded him. “You wrote that you had seen inscriptions that described it.”

  Matthias’s jaw tightened. “The true value of the seal lies in the fact that it is an object fashioned by the finest artisans of a vanished people. If the seal exists, it is priceless, not because it is made of jewels and gold but because of the tales it can tell us of ancient Zamar.”

  Imogen smiled. “I comprehend your feelings, sir. I would expect you to take just such a scholarly view of the seal. But I can assure you that a man of Vanneck’s base nature will be far more intrigued by the financial value of the thing. Especially in his present reduced circumstances.”

  Matthias’s smile was unpleasant. “You are no doubt correct. What has that to do with your scheme?”

  “My plan is simple. I shall travel to London with Aunt Horatia and work my way into Vanneck’s social circles. Thanks to Uncle Selwyn, I have the money to do so. And thanks to Aunt Horatia, I also have the proper connections.”

  Horatia stirred uneasily in her chair. She gave Matthias an apologetic glance. “I am distantly related to the Marquess of Blanchford on my mother’s side.”

  Matthias frowned. “Blanchford is traveling abroad, is he not?”

  “I believe so,” Horatia admitted. “He usually is. It is no secret that he cannot abide Society.”

  “He and I have something in common on that point,” Matthias said.

  Imogen ignored that. “Blanchford rarely puts in an appearance during the Season. But that is no reason Aunt Horatia and I should not do so.”

  “In other words,” Matthias said, “you are going to trade on your aunt’s connections in order to carry out this mad scheme.”

  Horatia rolled her eyes toward the heavens and made a tut-tutting sound.

  Imogen glowered at Matthias. “It is not a mad scheme. It is very clever. I have been working on it for weeks. Once I am in the proper social circles, I shall drop little hints concerning the Queen’s Seal.”

  Matthias raised laconic brows. “What sort of hints?”

  “I shall let it be known that while conducting an inventory of my uncle’s collection, I happened across a map that contains clues to the location of the seal.”

  “Hell’s teeth,” Matthias muttered. “You intend to convince Vanneck that this nonexistent map can lead him to a fabulous artifact?”

  “Precisely.”

  “I do not believe what I am hearing.” Matthias finally looked at Horatia for support.

  “I did try to warn you, my lord,” she murmured.

  Imogen leaned forward eagerly. “I shall convince Vanneck that I intend to share the clues to the seal with whoever will help finance an expedition to retrieve it.”

  Matthias gave her a quizzical look. “What good will that do?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Vanneck will be unable to resist the notion of going after the seal. But as his finances are in a bad way at the moment, and he has not yet found himself an heiress, he lacks the funds to underwrite an expedition himself. I shall encourage him to form a consortium of investors.”

  Matthias eyed her thoughtfully. “Allow me to hazard a guess. You intend to draw Vanneck out on a financial limb and then cut off the limb, do you not?”

  “I knew you would understand.” Imogen was pleased that he was finally beginning to perceive the true genius of the plan. “That is exactly what I intend. It should be no great trick to convince Vanneck to put together a consortium to finance the expedition.”

  “And when he has spent the consortium’s money to hire a ship and a crew and to purchase the expensive equipment needed for the expedition, you will provide him with a useless map.”

  “And off he will go on a fool’s voyage,” Imogen concluded with a satisfaction she did not bother to conceal. “Vanneck will never find the Queen’s Seal. The expedition will collapse when the money runs out. The members of the consortium will be furious. There will be rumors that it was all a great fraud perpetrated upon innocent investors. Another South Seas Bubble. Vanneck will not dare to return to London. His creditors will hound him for years. If and when he does come back, he will certainly not be able to take his previous place in the ton. His chances of recouping his fortunes with an heiress will be thin indeed.”

  Matthias looked bemused. “I do not know what to say, Miss Waterstone. You take my breath.”

  There was a certain satisfaction to be derived from having such an electrifying effect on Colchester of Zamar, Imogen thought. “It is a clever plan, is it not? And you are a perfect partner for me, sir.”

  Horatia appealed to Matthias. “My lord, pray tell her that it is a mad, dangerous, reckless, foolish plan.”

  Matthias glanced briefly at Horatia and then returned his cold gaze to Imogen. “Your aunt is quite right. It is all of those things and more.”

  Imogen was stunned. “Nonsense. It will work. I am sure of it.”

  “I know that I shall regret asking, Miss Waterstone, but morbid curiosity compels me. What role have you created for me in this grand scheme?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, my lord? You are the acknowledged authority on all things Zamarian. With the possible exception of I. A. Stone, there is no finer scholar on the subject.”

  “There is no exception,” Matthias corrected her grimly. “Especially not I. A. Stone.”

  “If you insist, my lord,” Imogen murmured. “Every member of the Zamarian Society is aware of your qualifications.”

  Matthias brushed aside the obvious. “So?”

  “I would have thought it self-evident, sir. The simplest and most effective way to convince Vanneck that I have a genuine map to the Queen’s Seal is for you to indicate that you believe I possess such a map.”

  A short, sharp silence gripped the library.

  “Damnation.” Matthias sounded almost awed. “You want me to persuade Vanneck and the rest of the ton that I believe your uncle left you a map of ancient Zamar that shows the location of the seal?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Imogen was relieved that he had finally grasped the essentials of the scheme. “Your interest in the map will lend the necessary credibility to my tale.”

  “And just how am I expected to display this interest?”

  “That is the easy part, my lord. You will pretend to seduce me.”

  Matthias said nothing.

  “Oh, dear,” Horatia whispered. “I believe I feel a trifle faint.”

  Matthias gazed at Imogen with expressionless eyes. “I am to seduce you?”

  “It will be a pretense, of course,” she assured him. “All of Society will notice that you are pursuing me. Vanneck will conclude that there is only one reason you would do so.”

  “He will think that I am after the Queen’s Seal,” Matthias said.

  “Precisely.”

  Horatia heaved another heartfelt sigh. “We are doomed.”

  Matthias tapped one finger very gently against the rim of his teacup. “Why should Vanneck or anyone else conclude that I am intent only on seduction? Everyone knows that I have recently returned to England in order to assume my responsibilities to the title. Society will expect me to be hunting a wife this Season, not a mistress.”

  Imogen sputtered on a swallow of tea. “Do not concern yourself, my lord. You run no risk of finding yourself inadvertently engaged to me. No one will expect you to make me an offer.”

  Matthias searched her face. “What of your reputation?”

  Imogen set her cup down with great precision. “I see you do not know who I am. Not surprising, I suppose. You have been out of the country a good deal of the time during the past few years.”

  “Perhaps you will enlighten me as to your true id
entity?” Matthias growled.

  “Three years ago when I visited my friend Lucy in London, I acquired the nickname Immodest Imogen.” She hesitated. “My reputation was compromised beyond repair.”

  Matthias’s brows came together in a dark line. He glanced at Horatia.

  “It’s quite true, my lord,” Horatia said quietly.

  Matthias looked at Imogen. “Who was the man?”

  “Lord Vanneck,” Imogen said.

  “Bloody hell,” he said softly. “No wonder you want revenge.”

  Imogen straightened. “That incident has nothing to do with this. I do not give a fig for my own reputation. It is Lucy’s murder that must be avenged. I told you the story because I want you to understand that Society does not consider me a suitable candidate for marriage. No one would expect a man of your position to pursue me for anything other than a brief affair or the opportunity to acquire something valuable.”

  “Such as the Queen’s Seal.” Matthias shook his head. “Bloody hell.”

  Imogen stood up briskly and gave him an encouraging smile. “I believe you have the gist of the thing now, my lord. We can go over the details of my plan this evening at supper. In the meantime, we have an inventory to complete. As you are here, and there is really nothing else for you to do, perhaps you would care to assist us?”

  Chapter 2

  Horatia sidled closer to Matthias as soon as they were alone in the library. “My lord, you have got to do something.”

  “Do I?”

  Horatia’s anxious expression congealed into one of stern disapproval. “Sir, I am well aware of just who you are and what you are. As it happens, ten years ago I lived in London.”

  “Indeed?”

  “I did not move in your circles, my lord. But then, few respectable people did. However, I know how and why you earned the name Cold-blooded Colchester. My niece knows you only as Colchester of Zamar. She has admired you for years. She is not acquainted with your more notorious activities.”

  “Why don’t you inform her of them, Mrs. Elibank?” Matthias asked very softly.

  Horatia took a quick step back, as though she expected him to spring at her with bared fangs. “It would do no good. She would dismiss the tales as malicious gossip. I know her. She would assume that your reputation was unjustly shredded, just as hers was. She would no doubt become your strongest ally and staunchest supporter.”

  “Do you really think so?” Matthias gazed thoughtfully at the doorway. “I have never had very many of those.”

  Horatia glared at him. “Very many of what?”

  “Strong allies and staunch supporters.”

  “I think we both know that there are some very good reasons for that, my lord,” Horatia snapped.

  “As you say.”

  “Colchester, I realize that I have no claim on your consideration, but I am quite desperate. My niece is determined upon this rash plan. You are my only hope.”

  “What the devil do you expect me to do?” Matthias glanced over his shoulder to make certain Imogen had not reappeared in the doorway. “No offense, madam, but I have never encountered a female quite like Miss Waterstone. She leaves a man feeling as if he had just been trampled by the hunt.”

  “I know what you mean, sir, but you must do something or we shall all find ourselves enmeshed in this grand scheme of revenge that she has concocted.”

  “We?” Matthias plucked a leather-bound volume off the nearest shelf.

  “I assure you, Imogen will not give up her scheme if you refuse to cooperate. She will merely find another means to implement it.”

  “Strictly speaking, that is not my problem.”

  “How can you say that?” Horatia looked desperate. “You did make that promise to my brother, sir. It was in Selwyn’s will. It is said that you always keep your promises. Even your worst enemies, and I understand that there are any number of them, do not deny that.”

  “It’s true, madam, I always keep my promises. But I do so in my own fashion. In any event, my debt was to Selwyn Waterstone, not to his niece.”

  “Sir, if you would repay that debt to my dear, departed brother, you must keep Imogen from coming to grief.”

  “Imogen expects another sort of assistance entirely from me, madam. She seems hell-bent on coming to grief and, given her fortitude and determination, I expect she will achieve her goal.”

  “She is amazingly strong-minded,” Horatia admitted.

  “She puts both Napoleon and Wellington to shame.” He inclined his head toward the shelves full of books. “Take my present occupation, for example. I have no clear notion of precisely how I come to find myself assisting Miss Waterstone with the inventory of her uncle’s collection.”

  “That sort of thing happens frequently around my niece,” Horatia said ruefully. “She has a tendency to take charge of a situation.”

  “I see.” Matthias glanced at the title of the book in his hand. An Account of the Strange and Unusual Objects Found in Tombs Discovered in Certain South Seas Islands. “I believe this goes on your list.”

  “Books on tomb artifacts, do you mean?” Horatia bustled over to the desk and frowned at a page in the open journal. She dipped a quill into the ink and made a note of the book. “Very well, you may put it with the others.”

  Matthias set the volume down on top of a growing pile of similar titles. He surveyed the remaining volumes absently, his brain busy with the more important problem of Imogen Waterstone. He told himself that he needed information before he could decide upon a course of action.

  “How did Vanneck compromise your niece, madam?”

  Horatia’s mouth tightened. “It is a very unpleasant story.”

  “If I am to take any sort of action, I must know the facts of the matter.”

  Horatia eyed him with some hope. “I suppose you may as well hear the details from me rather than one of the London gossips. And it is not as though you were not saddled with a somewhat nasty reputation yourself, is it, my lord?”

  Matthias met her eyes. “That is very true, Mrs. Elibank. Your niece and I have that much in common.”

  Horatia suddenly became keenly interested in an ancient Etruscan death mask. “Yes, well, three years ago Lucy asked Imogen to come to see her in London. Lady Vanneck had been married for over a year at that point, but that was the first time she had bothered to invite Imogen to visit.”

  “Did Imogen stay with Lord and Lady Vanneck?”

  “No. Lucy claimed that she could not invite her to stay in the mansion because Lord Vanneck would not tolerate guests in the household. She suggested that Imogen take a small house for a few weeks. Lucy made all the arrangements.”

  Matthias frowned. “Imogen went off to London by herself?”

  “Yes. I was unable to join her because my husband was extremely ill at the time. Not that Imogen considered that she needed a companion, of course. She has a very independent nature.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I lay the blame squarely at the feet of her parents, God rest their souls.” Horatia sighed. “They loved her dearly and meant to do their best, but I fear that they gave her an extremely unconventional upbringing.”

  “How is that?” Matthias asked.

  “My brother and his wife were considerably advanced in years when Imogen was born. Indeed, they had both abandoned any hope of having children. When Imogen came along, they were thrilled.”

  “She has no brothers or sisters?”

  “No. Her father, John, who was my eldest brother, was a philosopher who had radical notions concerning the education of young people. He saw in Imogen a golden opportunity to test his theories.”

  “And her mother?”

  Horatia grimaced. “Alethea was a most unusual lady. She created something of a stir in her younger days. Wrote a book that seriously questioned the value of marriage to females. My brother fell in love with her the instant he read it. They were wed immediately.”

  “In spite of the lady’s views on marriage?”<
br />
  “Alethea always said that John was the only man in the entire world who could have made her a suitable husband.” Horatia hesitated. “She was right. In any event, Alethea also had developed a host of strange notions about the education of females. Indeed, she wrote another book describing them.”

  Matthias was briefly amused. “In other words, Imogen is the product of a radical philosophical experiment?”

  “I fear that is precisely the case.”

  “What happened to your brother and his wife?”

  “They both succumbed to lung infections the year Imogen turned eighteen.” Horatia shook her head. “I had often warned them that their habit of smoking that vile American tobacco was most unhealthy. Fortunately, Imogen did not adopt the practice.”

  “You were about to tell me what happened three years ago when Imogen went to London.” Matthias paused at the sound of brisk footsteps in the hall.

  Imogen stuck her head around the edge of the door and gave Matthias and Horatia an inquiring look. “How is the inventory going in here?”

  Matthias held up a bound volume of the Quarterly Review of Antiquities which he had just come across. “I believe we are making satisfactory progress, Miss Waterstone.”

  “Excellent.” Imogen glanced down at a list in her hand. “I have devised a schedule which, if we adhere to it, should see us finished with the inventory of the first floor before we leave for London on Thursday. Aunt Horatia and I will finish the rest of the house at our leisure when we return in a few weeks’ time. Keep up the good work.” She lifted one hand in a cheerful wave and hurried off down the hall.

  Matthias gazed thoughtfully after her. “What an amazing creature.”

  “I fear that nothing can dissuade her from her purpose, my lord,” Horatia said forlornly.

  Matthias set the Quarterly Review of Antiquities down on a table. “You were telling me about how she came to be compromised three years ago.”

  “If only I had been able to join her in London. Imogen considers herself a woman of the world, but you know as well as I do, sir, that after a lifetime spent here in Upper Stickleford, she was woefully unprepared for London Society. Furthermore, her parents both detested the Polite World. They taught her a great many useless subjects such as Greek and Latin and logic, but they did not teach her anything helpful such as how to survive in Society.”