Lady Margaret's Mystery Gentleman

by Christine Merrill

  ‘None that we can find,’ Peg insisted. ‘Alister comes from a good family and has enough money to support them both. He has proven time and again that his affections are constant. If he has a flaw at all, it is that he is too meek and has been willing to wait for a change in my brother’s heart rather than eloping to Scotland with Liv, ages ago.’

  ‘And do you have suitors, as well?’ he asked, then hurriedly added, ‘Not that it is my business, of course. But it would be nice to have warning if you are planning to jump out a window as your sister did.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Since I have not been allowed a Season, I have yet to meet a fellow who would want to lure me out of the house.’

  ‘But you must be old enough,’ he said.

  ‘Nearly twenty,’ she agreed. ‘At first, it made sense to postpone my come out, because we were in mourning for Father. But that cannot be the reason anymore.’ She clamped her lips shut before she could reveal any more of her problems. She had never expected to be so free with a stranger, but Mr Castell was a surprisingly good listener.

  ‘Do you suppose he means to spare you from gossip?’ he said, eyes widening slightly.

  ‘Gossip of what sort?’ she said, shaking her head in denial and praying that he was not about to repeat the tired rumours about Hugh.

  ‘When I took this job,’ Mr Castell said carefully, ‘friends reminded me that the Duke, your brother, is not well liked in many circles. People think him...’ He paused again, as if hoping she would fill in the end of the sentence.

  ‘You are speaking of the theory that he murdered our father,’ she said, frowning to put him back in his place. ‘Surely people are not still going on about that.’ The foolishness of others had been part of the reason they had observed mourning so strenuously.

  ‘It is not the sort of story that goes away,’ Mr Castell said gently. ‘In fact, it may have grown with time.’

  It was not as if she had never heard the stories or seen the dark looks and whispers pass between the mothers of other girls in her limited acquaintance. But she had long ago learned to ignore them. ‘People must find something more interesting to talk about,’ she said, raising her chin. ‘If they cannot, then perhaps Hugh is right to want to shield us. It must be very embarrassing for him to have the ton still spouting such nonsense.’

  ‘They do not call him embarrassed,’ Mr Castell supplied. ‘I think the word most often used is arrogant.’

  Peg winced. The description suited him. ‘He does not suffer fools,’ she said, secretly wishing that her brother was capable of being a little more agreeable.

  ‘Nor does he make any effort to appear innocent,’ the dancing master replied.

  ‘He should not have to refute such a ridiculous accusation,’ she snapped.

  Mr Castell held his hands out in front of him, in a mollifying gesture. ‘I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But I can only tell you what I have observed for myself.’

  She could not help laughing at this. ‘Observed? I am sorry, Mr Castell, but you are little more than a servant and newly hired at that. What could you possibly see that others closer to him did not?’

  For a moment, the man’s eyes narrowed as if he took her mention of his lack of status as an insult and not simply a statement of fact. It embarrassed her. She must have sounded terribly proud. Since he was the first man of any kind who had taken the time to speak to her, it was hardly fair of her to treat him badly.

  His expression calmed again. When he spoke, it was in the same kind tone he had been using. ‘After he offered me money to spy on your sister, he reminded me of my place, just as you did, just now.’

  ‘I did not mean it,’ she said hurriedly. ‘It is just that you could not have met him before today, so how well could you possibly know him?’

  ‘No offence was taken,’ he said. But the bow that followed was stiff, as if he was unaccustomed to being quite as subservient as the situation required. Then he looked into her eyes again. ‘I was surprised at his request to report on your activities, for it seemed a high-handed way to treat members of his family whom he claimed to care for.’ He glanced at the window again. ‘And I will admit, I admire you sister’s method of thwarting him.’

  ‘Most men who have met Olivia admire her for something or other,’ Peg said, feeling ever so slightly jealous.

  ‘She is beautiful, as well,’ he agreed, still staring thoughtfully at the window. Then he turned suddenly back to her. ‘As are you, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘But I would never think to be forward with either of you,’ he said hurriedly. ‘It is a very foolish thing for a man in my position to become overly attached to his students. The situation would be improper. And quite hopeless.’ He said the last words directly to her and with an answering sigh of regret that made her feel instantly better about being everyone’s second choice of sisters.

  ‘Since I understand my place,’ he said, bowing again, ‘he had no reason to threaten to kill me, as he did.’

  ‘He did what?’ she said with surprise.

  ‘He informed me that if I touched either of his sisters, he would kill me,’ Mr Castell replied.

  ‘He was only trying to frighten you,’ she said, raising a hand to her mouth to hide the smile that was spreading there.

  But Mr Castell did not seem the least bit cowed by the threat. His eyes were narrowed again and his chin squared, as if ready to meet a challenge. It made him look far more formidable than the man she had dismissed as silly only a short time before. ‘He was sincere in his threat,’ Castell said. ‘I have spoken with such men before and can tell the difference between a playful exaggeration and a man who might be capable of violence.’

  Peg shook her head. She understood that people were suspicious of him over Father’s death. But the idea that they might really believe her brother when he spoke thus had never occurred to her. ‘He should learn to moderate his speech. He has said things similar before and will likely say them again. I believe he even threatened Alister in that way, when he sent him off after the failed proposal.’ She glanced into the garden, wishing that Olivia was there for reassurance, then shrugged. ‘I know you are unlikely to meet him, but I can assure you that it has been some time and Alister Clement is alive and healthy as ever he was.’

  ‘Because your brother does not know he is still around,’ Castell finished for her.

  ‘Now that you know, do you mean to tell him?’ she asked, surprised to feel a finger of dread trace down her spine.

  ‘What can you give me to keep the secret?’ he asked, giving her a long, slow look as he waited for the answer.

  ‘I do not have very much money,’ she said, feeling strangely vulnerable under his gaze.

  He took a step towards her, moving with the grace of the dancer she had expected. ‘There is something you have which is more valuable than gold.’

  Her eyes widened. Though he had assured her he would take no liberties, he seemed to be speaking of something so wicked that she could hardly believe he had said it aloud, much less done it on the first day they’d met. Perhaps these dancing lessons would be much more exciting than she had anticipated.

  Now that his disguise had been penetrated, it was much easier to see the handsome man beneath the foppish exterior. She stared into his dark eyes, trying to imagine what it might be like to be kissed by him.

  Then, he answered the question she was afraid to ask in a way that was far more mundane than she’d imagined. ‘You could give me your trust.’

  ‘What?’ she said, confused.

  ‘I understand that you love your brother and do not want to think ill of him,’ he said. ‘But from what I have seen today, I cannot help worrying about the safety of you and your sister.’

  ‘That is kind of you,’ she said, trying not to sound disappointed. ‘But your conc
ern is not necessary. We are both fine.’

  ‘Perhaps now you are,’ he said. ‘But if things change, or if you feel afraid for any reason, you must tell me. I will do everything in my power to help you.’

  It was an unusual request and agreeing to it cost her nothing. But she did not see what he would have to gain in helping someone he had just met. Perhaps he was just a good person who cared deeply about others. If there was another, more devious reason, she could not think what it might be.

  ‘I doubt there will be anything to tell you,’ she said. ‘But I will agree, as long as you promise not to tell Hugh about Olivia and Alister. I do not know what he will do if he realises that we have tricked him.’ She regretted the words immediately for they came out sounding far too dire and seemed to contradict everything she had just said.

  If Mr Castell had noticed the fact, he did her the courtesy of pretending he had not. ‘It will be our secret,’ he agreed, giving her another smile that was nothing like the insincere grins he had begun with. The idea that they had a shared secret gave an intimacy to it, making her feel that he had known her for ages and not just a few minutes.

  Hesitantly, she smiled back at him and felt a jolt of connection that had not been there before. Without thinking, she took a step closer to him, until they were almost near enough to dance, as she had assumed they would when he had first come to her.

  Suddenly, there was a whistle from the window. The distraction broke the bond between them and Peg ran to help boost her sister back into the room. Olivia was flushed and happy, as if she had spent her time dancing about the room, just as had been expected of her.

  She looked between Peg and the dancing master and her smile became a suspicious frown.

  ‘It is all right,’ Peg whispered back to her. ‘We have an understanding.’

  ‘I believe it is time for me to be going.’ Now that Liv had returned, the false Italian accent, the broad smile and mocking subservience had returned, as well. But when he turned to bow to Peg, he winked as he did it, to remind her that only she knew the truth about him.

  It was only when he had left them alone in the music room that Peg realised they had not danced at all.

  Chapter Four

  In some ways, the investigation was going better than he had hoped. On their first meeting, the Duke had incriminated himself from his own lips with the threat of murder. His sister had confirmed that he had a habit of making such promises and hinted at the dissatisfaction of both girls with the way their brother isolated them. And the older girl had given him blackmail material without even bothering to speak to him. If information continued to flow so freely from the family, he would have answers in no time at all.

  But if he had hoped that Margaret Bethune would disappoint him and make the morality of his job easier, this was not to be the case. He left the town house feeling unsettled, almost to the point of guilt. It had not bothered him to lie to Scofield—for that man deserved whatever he got—but the girls had done nothing to him. Neither had they done anything for him. He had known them for less than an hour. It pained him more than it should have to deceive them. One of them, at least.

  Lady Olivia had been just as he had expected her to be, aloof and ready to dismiss him as unimportant without bothering to take a second glance. Of course, he could not really blame her for trying to get away from the Duke. It proved that she was aware of the danger she was in and looking for a way out. He would not prevent her from escaping and would help her if he could. If, in the future, he needed to exploit her vulnerability, he would do so with little hesitation.

  But Lady Margaret was another matter. He had hoped that she would disappoint him and reveal a dull mind and a bland personality. Instead, she had seen through his disguise almost immediately and forgiven him for the deception. Still, she had chatted amiably with him, not afraid to share details of her life. She had spoken to him almost as if he was her equal.

  It was only when he had threatened her brother that she had shown him the side of her character that he had expected to see. She had been quick to remind him that he was a nobody and, surprisingly, it had stung. He had come very close to announcing that he was far more than a mere dancing master. Then he had remembered that his true identity would not have impressed her, either.

  It was a shame. She was everything he admired in a woman and more than just a beauty. Perhaps it was because her brother had sheltered her from the ton. There was a freshness about her, like coming upon a newly opened rose. Her eyes were wide and guileless, but there was intelligence in them, as well.

  He might have done a better job of maintaining his nom de guerre had he not been slack-jawed by her beauty as she’d questioned him in Italian. Lord knew how he would manage when he actually had to dance with her. As it was, he had taken far too much pleasure in talking with her and he’d felt a surprising disappointment when her sister had reappeared and put an end to it.

  It concerned him that she seemed to have no idea that her brother was truly dangerous. She had an excuse for everything, putting all she had seen and heard off as loose talk and coincidence. Though she had no complaints about Scofield, other than that he was strict, David could not help worrying about her, trapped in a house with a villain.

  He wanted to rescue her.

  He shook his head. When had he become prone to daydreaming of himself as some sort of hero? He must put such musings out of his mind and remember that, no matter what else was true, she was the sister of a duke. Such girls might smile at their dancing masters, but they would never entertain the advances of the bastard son of a minor lord, who made his living writing for a newspaper.

  That thought depressed him more than it should have. He would do well to remember that any friendship they might have was only temporary. She would actively hate him when he revealed to all of London that her brother was a murderer.

  And when he did so, what would happen to her? Society could be cruel enough to girls whose families broke even the smallest rules. The world would be merciless if their brother was stripped of his title and hanged. No men of rank would have the girls to wife. The other best option, ladylike employment as a governess or tutor, would be impossible, as well. Families would think twice before hiring someone with such a notorious bloodline.

  He shook his head again, rejecting the doubts that were growing there. It should not matter to him what happened, since he had known Lady Margaret Bethune for less than an hour. But that did not mean he wanted to bring about the downfall of an innocent girl. Perhaps, if he helped Lady Olivia towards an elopement before the article was published, she would take her younger sister into her new home and see to it that she had a future.

  * * *

  For the next lesson, he waited until he was sure that Scofield had left the house before making his appearance. Then, after assuring the footman at the door that he knew where he was going, he purposely turned wrong, finding his way back to the study, where the old Duke’s body had been found. He had worried that he might find the room locked, but the door was open and a maid was rubbing down the woodwork with beeswax and lemon.

  ‘Scusi,’ he said, giving her a bow and a smile. ‘I am lost, I think.’

  The maid smiled back, giggling. ‘You are the new dancing master for the ladies? I will be done here in a moment and will take you to the music room myself.’ She shuddered. ‘I welcome the company. I do not like being in this room alone.’

  ‘Why not?’ he said, giving her another smile and a wide-eyed look.

  ‘The place is haunted,’ she said, her eyes just as wide.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head in mock amazement. ‘By whom?’

  ‘The last Duke died in that very spot,’ she said, pointing a finger at the seat behind the desk.

  ‘And now his son sits in his chair,’ David said to her. ‘Is he not bothered by it?’

  ‘You would think so, but he does not turn a hair,
’ she said, just as amazed.

  ‘And how did the old Duke die?’ he said, asking the question that needed no answer.

  ‘Murder,’ the maid replied, with obvious relish. ‘A letter opener to the heart.’ She mimed the strike and collapse.

  He shuddered in appreciation. ‘Did they catch the killer?’

  At this, her eyes went even wider and she seemed to realise that she had spoken too freely in front of a stranger. She went to the door and looked out to make sure that there was no one in the hall that might overhear. She came back to him and whispered, ‘We all know who it was that done it. And that is all I’m saying. Those on the staff that had a place to go to either gave notice or just run off, rather than work for the young Duke. If I could find a new position, I’d be gone, too.’

  ‘Really?’ he said, a little surprised at how quickly the staff turned against him when the Duke was gone. ‘And do you have any proof?’ He held his breath, wondering if it could truly be this easy.

  ‘Who else could it have been?’ the maid said. ‘That night, the study window was open, but it leads to a fenced garden. No one was seen coming or going. And Lady Olivia’s dog, which will not shut up under the best of circumstances, did not let out a single bark to warn of an intruder.’

  ‘How strange,’ he agreed, disappointed that the evidence was not more concrete.

  ‘It was someone in the house what done it,’ the maid announced with a confident nod. ‘The new Duke did nothing but argue with his father for the whole of their lives together. Who else could it have been?’

  ‘That is damning,’ he agreed. ‘But did anyone see anything?’

  ‘See anything?’ Her eyes went wide. ‘I scrubbed the blood from the rug myself. That was more than anyone would want to see.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, doing his best to hide his frustration. It seemed that inside the house, just as out of it, everyone was sure they knew the truth, but no one had solid evidence to prove it.