The Viscount's Dangerous Liaison: Regency romantic mystery (Dangerous Deceptions Book 3)

by Louise Allen

  ‘How do we dismantle a chest tomb?’ Perry demanded once the soup had been served. ‘Where are the joints?’

  ‘Probably once we have the lid off it becomes more obvious – but if we have it off then we don’t need to dismantle the entire thing, we just look in,’ Theo pointed out. ‘But two of us couldn’t shift it, the thing weighs a ton.’

  ‘What do we think is inside?’ Laura queried as she passed the butter. ‘What is worth killing for?’

  ‘Either something worth a great deal of money or someone’s guilty secret,’ Will said.

  ‘A murdered rector?’ Perry suggested, with an exaggerated shudder. ‘What if the one who vanished was killed and his body put in the tomb? If it is so hard to open then anyone who knew the secret would feel confident that it would never be discovered. Therefore when you start showing an interest you have to be stopped.’

  ‘But after over twenty years, what would it matter if he was found? Unless the murderer buried a confession with him or stabbed him with a unique family jewelled dagger or something, how could anyone tell who the killer was?’

  ‘You, Laura, are too logical by half,’ Perry protested. ‘Theo, what do you think? You’re very quiet.’

  ‘Sorry, just brooding.’ Theo gave himself a mental shake. The prospect of anyone guessing that he was jealous of Perry or moping over Laura was appalling. He told himself he had imagined Will’s pitying look earlier, took a gulp of wine and tried for his old frivolous manner. ‘My vote is for some fabulous treasure. The Rector was in league with a pirate, they hid the treasure in the tomb, then one dark night they met to divide the spoils, fell out and managed to kill one another. The pirate crew removed the bodies but did not know where the treasure was hidden and it has stayed there ever since.’

  ‘And Squire Jenner is actually the cabin boy grown up and trying to retrieve the loot, I suppose?’ Perry enquired sarcastically. ‘He’s taken his time about it.’

  ‘Are you sure there is no crypt?’ Laura asked Will once they had run out of improbable fantasies and the joint had been carved.

  ‘There was one once, but the entrance has been blocked – you can raise a slab in the south aisle and there are steps, but at the bottom you meet a solid stone wall,’ he said. ‘I asked the verger about it and he said it has been like that time out of mind because of flooding or subsidence, he was not sure which. I have to admit I was dubious – he seemed shifty so I thought it was a ruse to hide smuggled casks and had a close look. But it really is solid, there is no sign of anything being moveable, or marks on the floor or steps.’

  ‘The tomb it is, then,’ Perry said. ‘Are you fit enough to come with us, Will?’

  ‘Better if he does not, surely?’ Laura protested. ‘He could be in all kinds of trouble if the Rector discovers he had anything to do with it.’

  ‘If he objects, I resign.’ The once-diffident curate jutted his chin.

  ‘If you resign, I’ve a living for you,’ Theo said as Perry began to protest. ‘I was going to suggest it in any case.’

  ‘My lord, you do not know my qualifications – ’

  Theo waved the objections away as the footmen came in to clear for dessert. ‘We will discuss it later, but I am serious. You’ll not be out of employment over this, I promise you. Now, let us talk of something else – anything other than smugglers, treasure, rectors or tombs. Perry, we must hear about your Irish adventure.’

  Laura had gone off to bed yawning at ten o’clock, leaving the men to their brandy. Theo managed not to fuss over her, or to take any notice of the affectionate goodnight she gave Perry. He thought, when she turned in the doorway and looked back, that there was something meaningful in her eyes as she met his gaze. A warning perhaps not to speak of that awakening on the chaise in each other’s arms.

  It hurt to feel the strange understanding that he had felt between them as they had worked in the study absent now. Perhaps he had imagined it. Perhaps he was the only one who had felt it.

  The three of them had settled back to discussing what equipment one required for dismantling tombs and how many men they would need for the job when there was the sound of the front door knocker and Terence came in.

  ‘Mr Hogget has called to enquire about Mr Thwaite, my lord.’

  ‘Show him in,’ Perry said, with a slightly tipsy wave of the hand. ‘Fetch another glass.’ He squinted at the decanter. ‘And another bottle.’

  Hogget brought the scent of cool night air with him. ‘Northam, good evening. I am glad to see you up and out of bed, Thwaite. And to see you safely home, Manners. Bad business this assault.’

  ‘Evening, Hogget. Pull up a chair, take a glass.’ Perry waited until his neighbour was seated and lifting the glass to his lips before he added, ‘Gets worse. Someone broke in here last night and attacked my housekeeper.’

  Hogget spluttered into his brandy, coughed and put down the glass. ‘Good God! Is she unhurt?’

  ‘Shocked and bruised but it could have been a lot worse.’

  ‘What the devil is going on? We never had any violent crime that I can think of, barring the usual tavern brawls and the occasional problem with poachers. Not before – ’ He shot Theo a rapid look and fell silent.

  ‘Before I arrived?’ Theo asked mildly. ‘But all I did before this began was to take one walk, visit the Mermaid tavern and attend a dinner party. Hardly provocative behaviour, surely?’ When Hogget did not answer he prompted, ‘We discussed smuggling, which did produce a certain constraint, as I recall. That and a mysterious tomb in Hempbourne Marish churchyard.’

  ‘Smuggling is a sensitive issue in these parts,’ Perry said easily. ‘Not all of us agree on its… virtues and that makes for a certain froideur. We have never come to blows about it though.’

  ‘I doubt it was the free traders that stirred the hornets’ nest,’ Hogget said. He appeared to have recovered his composure and was staring down into the golden depths of his glass. ‘There has always been a mystery about Hempbourne Marish, ever since Rector Swinburn disappeared in 1795, or so my father told me, with much tapping of the side of his nose and knowing looks.’

  ‘He knew something?’ Will asked.

  ‘My father liked to pretend he knew all manner of secrets and to hug his knowledge, or his imaginings, to himself to excite interest and speculation,’ Hogget said. ‘The last time he mentioned it was at Gilpin’s funeral – the last Rector, that is. Talking about how at least this one had died honestly in his bed or some such thing. Then he started the nudging and the heavy hints about some people who weren’t as dead as everyone thought and that someone who held themselves up so high would be taken down a peg or two if the dead came back.

  ‘He could tell a tale or two if he was so minded, he boasted, but no-one took any notice, he was notorious for heavy hints and provocative suggestions. He died soon afterwards and I closed down the house and lived in London for a while. I’ve only been back the past few months, as you know, Manners.’

  ‘Er, yes.’

  What the devil is Perry looking uncomfortable about now? ‘Your father can’t have been any great age,’ Theo observed. Hogget was perhaps forty one or two, in his estimation.

  ‘Sixty two. I’d have said he was good for another twenty years, but the doctor said it must have been his heart.’

  ‘How soon after Reverend Gilpin’s funeral did he die?’ Will asked suddenly.

  Hogget raised an eyebrow, but answered readily enough. ‘Can’t have been more than a week.’ He hesitated, as though looking back through time. ‘I can remember noticing that the weeds had not even had time to germinate on the mound of earth over Gilpin’s grave.’

  His cool grey gaze lingered on Will’s face until the curate began to shift uncomfortably in his chair. ‘You’re looking shifty, Reverend. Have you been uncovering embarrassing secrets in the registers, Thwaite? Changes of birth dates? Marriages squeezed into the record, written in slightly different ink.’ His smile was sly now. ‘I can think of all kinds of reasons to attem
pt to silence you if that is the case.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Will said, looking outraged. ‘I am unaware of any irregularities and if I was, I would immediately report them to the Bishop,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Ah well, I shall take myself off before it gets any blacker out here. Such a fine still night and only the stars to see by.’ Hogget rose to his feet and put down his glass. ‘Take care, Mr Thwaite, won’t you?’

  Perry tugged on the bell pull and Terence came to show out the visitor.

  ‘What the blazes was all that about?’ Theo demanded.

  Chapter Ten

  Perry and Will exchanged glances as they heard the front door close. ‘Hogget has a wife.’

  ‘I gathered that. Lady Swinburn referred her in passing at the dinner party.’

  ‘A somewhat mysterious woman,’ Will said. ‘There have been rumours and Hogget is understandably sensitive about them. As a result he hits back in ways which are not always… wise.’

  ‘Hogget’s first wife died a while ago.’ Perry slumped back comfortably into his armchair. ‘The unfortunate woman was not right in her mind, he took her up to Town eighteen months ago and she never came back. Then he returned a year later with a new, young, Mrs Hogget who promptly fell out with the Swinburns who tried to patronise her. The trouble is, she is not gently-born and I suspect her father may be some tradesman, or a small merchant perhaps. She has good manners which are almost too perfect, if you know what I mean, and her accent slips from time to time.’

  ‘Not like you to turn up your nose at the smell of trade, Perry,’ Theo said mildly. ‘Not unless the lady is not quite respectable. An actress, was she?’

  ‘I don’t turn my nose up at her,’ Perry protested. ‘She appears perfectly virtuous and decent, if somewhat strong willed, from what little I’ve seen of her. But I’m hardly on such terms with Hogget that I’d be inviting him and his lady to dinner by themselves – he’s a good ten years older than I am. If I meet her I’m perfectly amiable, I assure you.’

  ‘And she is very intelligent,’ Will put in. ‘But after her falling-out with Lady Swinburn she refuses invitations when the Swinburns are also expected to be guests which must be a trifle limiting in close country society. The lady behaves with perfect circumspection, but it cannot be easy for her.’

  ‘Makes you wonder why Hogget stays around here,’ Perry said. ‘Let alone accepts dinner invitations from the Swinburns,’ Theo said. ‘I’d have thought it would be much easier to make a fresh start somewhere else and avoid all this unpleasantness.’

  ‘Yes, odd that. Perhaps he is too attached to the family home. I suppose he tolerates the Swinburns or he’d have no social life at all.’

  ‘Not very loyal to his wife.’ Theo gazed into the mesmerising depths of his brandy. He’d had one too many, trying to drown out the thoughts of Laura, and now he felt his lids begin to droop as he tried to chase the tails of two or three wisps of thought that vanished like the fumes of the spirit even as he reached for them. ‘Rotten for Mrs Hogget. She must be lonely.’

  ‘She does not appear to let it lower her spirits – a very independent lady, that one,’ Will said. He too looked as though he should be in bed. ‘I often see her riding about, usually without a groom. Or she drives herself. She doesn’t attend church and she always seems to be not at home when I call, but apparently she does much good amongst the poorer families – shoes for children, that kind of thing.’ He smothered an enormous yawn.

  ‘We have kept you up too late – and you look ready to drop as well, Theo, which is what you get for late night dinners with respectable widows.’

  ‘Your appetite is improving, Will.’ Laura smiled at the curate as he accepted a plate of bacon and eggs and began to spread butter on a slice of toast with a lavish hand.

  ‘I feel very much better in myself,’ he explained. ‘My head and my back still hurt, of course, and I certainly do not feel up to walking far or even standing for long – but my brain appears to be functioning a lot better, my body feels as though it needs the food to heal faster and I’m impatient to be up and about.’

  ‘If not delivering a lengthy sermon,’ Perry said with a grin.

  ‘Who was that who called last night after I had retired?’ Laura asked. She had pulled the blankets over her head and refused to let herself be curious when she had heard the door knocker. The men had wanted to talk together without female interference, she’s suspected. Theo certainly no longer seemed so anxious to involve her, to be with her. Which was for the best, of course. If it was anything urgent someone would tell her soon enough.

  Now she listened attentively as the men recounted as much of the previous evening’s visit as they could recall through the lingering brandy fumes. ‘So Mr Hogget changed the subject and attacked Will verbally immediately after you started asking questions about his father’s death?’

  ‘Damn it, so he did,’ Perry said. ‘Er, sorry, Laura.’

  She flapped a hand, dismissing his swearing. ‘So was his father murdered, do you think? And had he suspected it, or was it your questioning that made it occur to him for the first time? If it was your questions, then he could have tried to divert you all from the subject while he thought it over – It would be a dreadful shock to suddenly suspect something like that.’

  ‘And if he was murdered then, from what Hogget was saying, it was because of a local secret that he knew,’ Theo said. He smiled at her and suddenly that warm feeling of a shared puzzle, of two minds working together, was back. ‘But if this secret was so dangerous, why the devil didn’t Hogget senior tell his son, or write it down or act on it?’

  ‘Because it was so dangerous?’ Will suggested. ‘Or he enjoyed the power of hugging the knowledge to himself.’

  ‘Could well be the case, but I don’t know if it gets us any further forward,’ Perry said. ‘When are we going to look at the tomb and who is coming with us?’

  ‘You, me, Jed and Tom Waggett,’ Theo said. ‘Hopefully that’s enough to raise the top if we take crowbars and ropes. I don’t want to use servants of yours, Perry. If there’s trouble as a result, they are local parishioners and shouldn’t have to be involved.’

  ‘And me,’ Will said firmly. ‘I am not going to have you disturbing tombs in my churchyard in my absence. If there is nothing wrong with it and someone is buried inside, then I want to ensure it is resealed reverently.’

  ‘And me,’ Laura said. The men all turned to look at her as though she had declared the intention of flying. ‘I will go mad if I’m cooped up here much longer. I’ll wear male clothing then if anyone sees me from a distance they won’t recognise me.’

  ‘Male clothing?’ Perry said faintly.

  ‘I’m sure Pitkin can find me something to fit.’

  ‘You will reduce him to hysterics,’ Theo said with a grin that said quite clearly that he supported her, that she should be involved, whereas Perry, bless his conventional soul, was shocked. ‘He gets embarrassed when I don’t wear a nightshirt. Er, sorry, shouldn’t mention such things to a lady.’

  In the end, they set out with Laura, in a hastily-modified suit of Pitkin’s own clothing, sitting on the floor of the curricle under the rug that was draped over Will’s knees. Two crowbars, several coils of rope, some wooden blocks and two lanterns were wedged uncomfortably around her.

  Tom Waggett drove and the other three men rode. It would have been more comfortable all round to take the carriage, but Perry thought that the curricle would attract less attention. It also meant, Laura suspected, that she was shrouded under the rug and he did not have to look at her until he had quite come to terms with seeing female legs on display.

  Although, she mused as they bumped and rattled along the coast road, he has probably seen and appreciated a considerable number of pairs in his time. Just not those belonging to a female friend. Theo, too, had managed to look almost anywhere but at her as she scrambled under the rug but she had not missed how he had glanced at her when she walked into the hall, how hi
s lips had parted and how he had turned sharply away. He desired her. She should be shocked, but somehow she could not summon up any emotion other than a reciprocal yearning.

  The two servants had politely averted their eyes and Pitkin had handed her the garments with his closed, of course, but to her surprise it was Will, who could normally blush with the best of them, who showed no reaction at all to having a scandalously-clad female wrapped around his legs.

  ‘Aren’t you shocked, Will?’ she asked after one particularly bad rut had wrested a curse from Waggett and had thrown Laura hard against Will’s knees.

  ‘You are decently, if unconventionally, clad,’ he replied. As far as she could tell under her blanket, he was vaguely amused. ‘In fact it seems a very rational type of clothing for females.’

  ‘It is wonderful,’ Laura agreed. ‘I have never tried breeches before, but all I can say is that women would be far better able to look after themselves without the handicap of skirts and er… Other garments.’ She’d been about to say corsets, but the sound of Waggett clearing his throat ominously made her think again.

  She poked her head out from under the covers as the curricle turned sharply, halted for a moment and then drove up the coffin path to the porch. ‘Is it safe to come out?’

  ‘Haven’t seen a soul the entire way,’ Perry said, swinging down from the saddle. He seemed to have overcome his reluctance to so much as glance at her, Laura noted, but he still kept his gaze rather fixedly on her face.

  ‘The five-bar gate is as well oiled as the wicket gate,’ Theo remarked. ‘Is that usual?’

  ‘I’ve never noticed.’ Will frowned in concentration. ‘We do not spend much on maintaining the churchyard here, as you can see. There are not the funds for it. I let the churchwardens get on with the routine maintenance and they employ the gravedigger to scythe the grass and cut the hedges back twice a year. He doesn’t get much work just digging, because if we get one funeral every six months, that would be the most I would expect. Some families tidy up around their own plots, of course, but so long as the path to the porch and vestry doors are clear, and there’s a rough path right round the church, that’s all I ask.’