by Louise Allen
Wednesday’s luncheon had just been cleared away when Laura announced impatiently that if they did not hear something soon she was going to put on breeches and a false beard and go and find out for herself what was happening. She was only partly placated when Perry promised he would ride over to the Rectory later that afternoon.
Theo lounged over to the drawing room window to look at the weather. ‘Nice day. I might join – Hell and damnation! Laura, run, hide, it’s Sir Walter and Giles Swinburn coming up the drive on horseback, along with a carriage.’
To his relief she didn’t argue, simply turned and whisked out into the hall. He heard the service door to the kitchen wing slam closed as, with a jerk of his head to the other fireside chair, he sat down into the nearest one and unfolded the newspaper. The door knocker rattled before he had opened it.
‘They’re in the devil of a hurry,’ Perry said.
The knocker pounded again as they heard one of the footmen making his unhurried way to the door. Theo cocked his head and listened.
‘Good afternoon, Sir Walter, Mr Swinburn. Oh, Sir Alfred, I’m sorry, I did not see you there.’
‘Who?’ He mouthed at Perry.
‘Only Alfred I know is Sir Alfred Potter, Chief Magistrate for the district,’ Perry said, low-voiced.
‘I will ascertain whether his lordship is at home.’
‘He had better be.’
‘Sir Walter, please – If you gentlemen would just wait in the –’
‘Wait, be damned! Get Manners and his friend Northam out here now.’
‘I don’t pay Terence enough for this,’ Perry said, getting to his feet. He strode to the door, opened it and stepped out. ‘Sir Walter. Is something on fire or have the French invaded?’
Theo followed him into the hall. Terence had backed up and was effectively blocking the way to the service door, so he strolled round to cover the foot of the stairs.
‘Where’s my niece, you blackguard?’ Sir Walter was white with anger and the riding crop he held between both clenched fists looked ready to snap. At his shoulder Giles was set-faced and clearly spoiling for a fight and the slight grey-haired man behind him making futile gestures for calm must be the Chief Magistrate.
‘Miss Darke is missing?’ Perry asked, concern edging into the anger in his voice. Theo felt a fleeting admiration for his acting.
‘Of course Miss Darke. I don’t have any other nieces. Do not try and tell me you don’t know where she is.’
‘Of course I know.’ That produced a stunned silence, then Perry added impatiently, ‘She is in Bath with an old aunt or cousin, I don’t recall which. When I got home from Ireland Northam said that Lady Swinburn had told him – when was it, Northam?’
‘When I had dinner at the Manor, Sir Walter. Surely you recall it coming up in conversation?’ Theo said. ‘Never tell me something has happened to her?’
‘She’s not in Bath – and the pair of you know it.’
Sir Alfred burrowed his way to Sir Walter’s side. ‘Gentlemen, please moderate your tone, this aggression will not assist matters.’
‘My tone is perfectly moderate, Sir Alfred,’ Perry said coldly. ‘Which is a miracle considering that you and my neighbours here have forced your way into my house and Sir Walter appears to be making accusations against me.’
‘A misunderstanding, I am sure, but Miss Darke is missing and – ’
‘And that damned interfering Revenue man called this morning to pry about the place and said your housekeeper allowed him into your cellars when he called and I know perfectly well that you have no housekeeper,’ Giles Swinburn said. ‘The old one was pensioned off a month or more ago.’
‘I have a new one, not that it is any of your business, Swinburn.’
‘And you and Northam were seen on Monday evening bundling a heavily veiled woman into a carriage at the Maid’s Head in Norwich. Do you deny that?’
‘No, I do not, although I fail to see why I have any obligation to account to you for my actions.’ Perry was beginning to sound heated now.
Theo decided it was time to take a hand before Perry forgot that he needed to act a part, not simply lose his temper with the invaders. ‘Not that it is any of your business, but we were doing a favour for an old friend, a most reputable Norwich lawyer who was being visited by the lady in question. His carriage was out of commission that evening and the lady… Shall we say it was necessary to deliver her as discreetly as possible?’
‘Who is this mysterious friend? I doubt he even exists.’ Swinburn was becoming red in the face now.
‘I have no intention of telling you. However, I understand that this gentleman is the Chief Magistrate for the district? I have no objection to giving him the name in strict confidence.’ It would do Crow’s reputation no harm, Theo decided as he stepped forward and murmured, ‘Gerard Redfern,’ in Sir Alfred’s ear. ‘You are welcome to check with him whether we performed such a favour, sir,’ he added, raising his voice to normal levels again.
‘I’m sure that will not be necessary, my lord, the gentleman in question is well known to me. Sir Walter, I really believe that this veiled lady is merely a red herring, an error – ’
‘Where is your housekeeper?’ Sir Walter demanded, ignoring him.
‘I have no idea – ’
He broke off as the service door opened and a woman in Laura’s simple cotton gown, with a lace-trimmed apron over it and a cap on her head, stepped out into the hallway and curtseyed.
‘I do apologise, my lord,’ she said in a soft, somewhat husky voice. ‘I did not realise you had guests. Should I have refreshments sent to the drawing room?’
Theo was nearest, but even so it took him a moment to recognise his own valet. A white cap covered Pitkin’s head but revealed his irrepressible dark curls at the front, combed into a feminine style. A few strands of long hair had somehow been contrived to escape from the sides of the cap and Theo suspected the use of lamp-black on his lashes and some kind of rouge on his lips. There was certainly very effective padding in the bodice of his gown and possibly in his cheeks, rounding out his face.
The slight and delicate young man made a perfectly acceptable young woman, Theo thought – provided no-one got too close.
‘Who the devil is that?’ Sir Walter demanded.
‘I’ll thank you not to use bad language in front of my female staff, Sir Walter. This, of course, is Mrs Albright, my housekeeper. Thank you, Mrs Albright, but the gentlemen will not be staying.’
‘My lord, gentlemen.’ She – Pitkin – bobbed a curtsy and stepped back into the shadows.
‘Sir Walter, enough of this.’ Sir Alfred put a restraining hand on the other man’s arm. ‘It is clear you have been misled and are mistaken. For the sake of the record, Lord Manners, Lord Northam, I must ask you, do you know where Miss Darke is?’
‘Upon my honour, I do not know where Miss Darke is,’ Perry said.
And neither do I, Theo realised. She could be in the house, in the grounds, the stables… ‘You also have my word of honour,’ Sir Alfred,’ he said. ‘I do not know the whereabouts of Miss Darke.’
‘I am not satisfied. I want a closer look at that housekeeper.’ Giles Swinburn pushed past Perry who swung round just as Theo stepped in front of them, barring Giles’s way to the kitchen.
‘Are you doubting my word?’ Theo snarled. If he started a fight it would give Laura longer to hide or escape.
Behind him, as he braced for the expected blow, the door opened and a slender, red-headed young man in the plain black of a gentleman’s gentleman stepped out. ‘Do forgive me, my lords, gentlemen.’ The soft voice with its hint of Ireland took them all by surprise.
‘Flynn?’ Theo said, staring.
The Duke of Calderbrook’s valet smiled faintly. ‘Yes, my lord. His Grace has asked me to accompany Viscount Ravenlaw as his own man is indisposed.’
‘Ravenlaw’s here?’ Perry said.
‘Indeed, my lord. In response to the letter of invitation, I bel
ieve. Do excuse me wandering in, but the door was ajar. I appear to have interrupted a reception.’
‘You have interrupted an ill-advised invasion,’ Perry snapped. ‘Mrs Albright, please retire before your ears are sullied with any more bad language.’
‘I did knock,’ a voice behind the Swinburns remarked, ‘but no-one appeared to hear me. Do excuse me, gentlemen.’
The other men parted immediately. Theo thought with a twinge of admiration that they always did for James Andrew Jared Forrest, Viscount Ravenlaw, son of the third Earl of Huntingford, otherwise known as Jared Hunt, swordmaster. Jared was wearing his usual severe black, his dark hair was tied back at his nape and a rapier hung at his side. Darkness has come to call.
Theo heard the click of the latch and saw that Pitkin had made his escape.
‘Am I interrupting something? Do introduce me, Theo.’
‘Jared. Sir Alfred Potter, chief magistrate of the district. Perry’s neighbour Sir Walter Swinburn and his son Giles. You know Manners, of course. Gentlemen, the Viscount Ravenlaw. My step-uncle by marriage.’
His friend looked pained, which was reasonable, considering that he was only a few years older than Theo. ‘I married Theo’s late uncle’s second wife,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘You have arrived at an interesting moment, Jared. Sir Walter is labouring under the delusion that we are hiding his niece in the house disguised as Mrs Albright the housekeeper.’
‘Mrs Albright?’ Jared frowned.
Playing for time while he works out what’s going on, Theo thought.
‘Precisely, my lord,’ Flynn interjected. ‘I too was surprised, but I can vouch for the fact that the person you asked me to recommend to his lordship’s service is in the kitchen now.’
‘Excellent, I was going to enquire whether they proved satisfactory.’
‘Is that true?’ Giles Swinburn demanded. ‘Are you vouching for this housekeeper?’
Jared turned on his heel so that he was facing Giles. ‘Yes, Mr Swinburn. Why, do you doubt my word?’ His right hand was resting lightly on the hilt of his rapier and Theo saw Giles’s eyes widen at the sight. It was exceedingly rare to see a blade worn in daytime by a man out of uniform.
‘You are wearing a sword,’ Giles blurted, suddenly seeming years younger than the sophisticated man of the world he tried to portray.
‘Yes.’ Jared smiled. ‘And I use it too. But you were about to throw doubt on my statement that I recommended a senior servant to his lordship?’
‘I… No, of course not.’ Somehow he was controlling himself, although the fact that he was faced by a group of noblemen, all giving their word that they did not know where his cousin was and that they vouched for the housekeeper, was clearly straining his sense of self-preservation to the limit. But Theo thought Giles Swinburn was a bully and facing three large, irritated gentlemen, one of them armed with a lethal weapon, was enough to stop his blustering, even though he clearly did not believe a word they said.
Jared’s intervention had clearly given Perry time to collect himself. ‘But enough of this – how long has Miss Darke been missing? What searches have you put in hand?’
‘She has been gone from home since just before he – before Northam arrived,’ Sir Walter said between gritted teeth. ‘We had no clue what might have happened until that confounded Riding Officer was gossiping.’
Theo doubted very much that Morefleet was ever given to gossiping. The man had probably remarked, on receiving some resistance to his search at the Manor, that the housekeeper at the Grange had co-operated fully. The Swinburns had put two and two together and had, very correctly, made four.
‘Most distressing for you,’ Theo remarked. ‘Some young man involved, no doubt.’
‘No doubt.’ The fulminating glance that Swinburn sent Perry left no doubt which young man he suspected.
Perry kept an admirable hold on his temper. ‘And we should offer our condolences on the sad news confirming your uncle’s fate, Swinburn. Although perhaps it is a relief, after so many years, to know what happened to him.’
The baronet made a dismissive gesture. ‘That’s another thing – what in blazes were you doing in the churchyard, breaking into tombs?’
‘Did the Archdeacon not explain? As we told the Bishop, it was complete chance.’ Theo shook his head gravely, then wondered if he had overdone it when Giles Swinburn made a sound verging on a snarl.
‘I think, gentlemen, that we have tried the patience of Lord Manners long enough,’ Sir Alfred said into the dangerous silence.
The Swinburns pushed past him without a word and were spurring their horses down the drive before Sir Alfred had wound himself to the end of his complex apology, explanation and self-justification.
‘No need to apologise.’ Perry took his arm and walked with him to the carriage. The sound of his voice assuring the older man that he quite understood the difficult position he was in floated back to the three left in the hallway.
‘What the devil is going on?’ Jared demanded. ‘I come here on Cal’s behalf because you write to him urgently about gold Napoléons, smuggling and murder and find you accused of abducting maidens and tomb robbing – and what, exactly, is Pitkin doing en travestie?’
‘Not that it doesn’t suit him,’ Flynn remarked, coming out of the shadows and joining the others. ‘But I didn’t think it was quite that kind of household. Cal’s going to be mad as fire missing this.’
They had travelled the world together – Cal, the Duke of Calderbrook who had gone abroad under threat of his life; Viscount Ravenlaw, then simply Jared Hunt, swordmaster and bodyguard and Michael Flynn, the valet they had rescued from a beating in the alleyways of New York. Between themselves they remained on first name terms, as close as brothers. Even the marriages of Cal and Jared had not broken the bond. Flynn’s romantic interests lay elsewhere and, the last time Theo had heard, he had been involved in a tempestuous relationship with Cal’s French chef.
‘I’ll tell you later about Pitkin. I’ve got to find Laura Darke.’
‘I thought I heard you give your word you didn’t know where she was,’ Flynn remarked, his tone curious rather than accusing.
‘I don’t. Attic, cellar, hayloft, garden… Could be anywhere.’ He let the service door swing closed behind him with a bang. Wherever she was she would be frightened – anyone would be with that man in their trail. Theo tried to get the image of that riding crop bent between two powerful fists out of his mind and could not.
Chapter Fifteen
Pitkin was still in his female attire and Mrs Bishop was standing at the kitchen door talking urgently to Jed as Theo burst into the kitchen.
‘Just telling him to make doubly sure those confounded Swinburns really have gone,’ she said, coming back in and shutting the door. ‘You stay as you are, young Robert. Just in case Jed misses them and they come snooping back at the windows.’
His valet’s name was Robert? Theo gave himself a mental kick for not remembering. ‘That was exceedingly well done, Pitkin. We’d have been lost without you. Whose idea was it?’
‘His, my lord,’ Mrs Bishop said when the valet merely went pink.
‘Where is Laura?’
‘Cellar. Someone give me a hand to move this clothes rack, will you?’
Theo realised she had upturned the clothes horse, a wooden drying frame that normally stood on legs like a waist-height folding screen. Now it was propped on end against the wall like a ladder, draped in sheets and towels that completely covered the cellar door. ‘If those Swinburns managed to get past you and demanded to know where the cellar was, I was going to point them to the front one off the hall,’ she said, rescuing the tumbling laundry as Theo yanked the frame away and reached for the key.
‘Laura, it’s me,’ he called ungrammatically as he ran down the steps. The door closed behind him, plunging the cellar into darkness as instinct made him dodge and something whistled past his head to catch him a glancing blow on the shoulder.
&n
bsp; ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Theo, I didn’t have time to stop when I heard your voice.’
He reached out in the blackness, touched a bottle and pulled it. She came with it and he caught her up in his arms. ‘They’ve gone, you’re safe,’ he said urgently, letting the bottle drop. ‘Pitkin was wonderful, Perry was magnificent, although I thought we were going to have a duel on our hands. We spun them a yarn and got all pokered up on our honour and then Jared and Flynn arrived.’ He was talking almost at random, anything to stop the shivering he could feel running through her.
‘Laura? What are you wearing?’ Under his hands was soft, chilly flesh. She was cold, not frightened.
‘My shift,’ she said. ‘I had to give everything else to Pitkin, even my stays so there was something to hold the padding and my shoes, although he could only push his feet halfway into them. But it had to look right.’ She did not try and move out of his arms.
Probably needs the warmth, Theo thought, telling himself not to get his hopes up. What hopes? He rested his cheek against her hair, a small indulgence. ‘We wouldn’t have let them get you.’
‘I know. But it seemed a good idea to try and confuse them rather than let it turn into a fight. That would only make them more suspicious and besides, someone would have got hurt.’
‘Giles Swinburn,’ Theo muttered.
‘Oh, Theo,’ Laura said, half laughing and then, somehow, in the dark, her arms tightened around his neck and he was lifting her against him, seeking her mouth. He stumbled back, his heel caught in something soft and they tumbled onto what felt like a heap of grain sacks, Laura on top.
‘Ough.’
‘I’m sorry, that was my elbow.’
‘I know. That was my stomach.’ Very smooth, Theo. Very dashing. Fall over onto a pile of sacks, get an elbow in the gut… ‘Laura – ’ This time he had no trouble finding her mouth, or perhaps she had found his. It did not matter, all that mattered was the heat and the taste of her and her tongue tangling with his and the feel of her under his hands, chilly skin, deeper warmth, passionate woman.