How to Entice an Earl (12 page)

“Do not fly into a pelter,” Christian said mildly but not unkindly. “It likely has nothing to do with Linton and everything to do with Tinker and his other friends.”

“What other friends? How am I to ensure that my brother doesn’t somehow end up in trouble for this if I don’t know who the true culprits are?”

“Maddie, much as I wish I could, you know I can’t tell you that,” he said, taking her hand in his. It was a gesture of friendship, she knew, and it calmed her a little. “I honestly wish you would trust me to deal with all of this.”

“Why?” she asked, suddenly wondering if he was calming her with ulterior motives. “So you don’t have to tell me anything about what you find? I think not.”

Christian did not answer right away, turning his attention to the horses as he steered around a sluggish buggy.

Finally turning back to her, he asked, “Have you considered letting your brother handle his own affairs?

“Like Tinker,” he said firmly, “he is a grown man and perfectly capable of handling his own affairs.”

“Yes, you see how successful Mr. Tinker was at handling himself,” she said bitterly.

Realizing that perhaps he needed further explanation for her zeal, she went on. “I do not expect you to understand my relationship with Linton.”

Christian looked away. “I understand more than you think,” he said bitterly.

Belatedly, Maddie recalled that Christian had lost his twin sister some years ago. The gossips had hinted at suicide, but she’d never heard the full story. Perhaps he did understand her need to protect Linton after all.

Gently, she said, “There is a certain bond between siblings. And an even greater one between siblings who are close together in age. Especially when you have grown up as Linton and I did.”

Christian turned to look at her, his eyes searching. “I thought your upbringing was happy.”

“Only after we reached a certain age,” Maddie admitted. She was hardly comfortable discussing the matter, but she felt somehow that Christian needed to know. “When we were younger, and this is not generally known so I wish you would not repeat it…”

“Of course.”

As she spoke, he had steered them into Green Park onto one of the lesser used carriage paths and drew the phaeton to a halt.

Turning to face her, he waved her to continue.

“When we were children, my father wasn’t on very good terms with his own parents,” she began, “because of his wildness, for want of a better word.”

In fact Viscount Linton, as the current Earl of Essex was then known, had been all but cut off from his family. In part because of his carousing, but also because of his insistence upon marrying the penniless but beautiful Miss Poppy Featherstone. The Earl and Countess of Essex were well-known for their abstemious ways, in spite of the ribaldry of their generation, and when young Viscount Linton had defied them there had been rumors that he would be cut off altogether.

Christian knew the tale, of course. He also knew that when the elder earl died his son had turned over a new leaf and now led a life just as retiring as his father’s had been. He’d always wondered what had caused the change, and now he suspected he was about to hear it.

“I have heard that, yes.”

“Well, what is not generally known is that my father could be quite nasty when he was in his cups. And when his father cut off his allowance, my parents were forced into economies that were foreign to them—well, to my father at least. Mama, as you know, grew up quite poor and knew how to make a penny last. But Papa was bitter, and became even more so when they were forced to remove from the Essex town house and into a smaller one. And when he was angry he drank. And when he drank he became, well, violent.”

Christian felt a knot of dread form in his belly at her words. “Violent how?”

“Well, you must understand that he was not himself when he drank. It was as if all the rage and disappointment he felt about their straitened circumstances came out when he was inebriated.” She looked down at her clasped hands, not meeting Christian’s eyes, which made him want to pull her close. “He shouted mostly. Though he never struck us, he did take out his anger on whatever inanimate objects were unlucky enough to be in his path.”

“Thank God for that at least,” Christian said.

“You would not say so if you were an eight-year-old little girl whose favorite dolly had just been smashed to bits,” she said wryly.

He hated that tone in her voice, as if she had seen far more than she should. It made him want to gather her up in his arms and comfort her. Kiss away her tears.

“In any event,” she continued, “Papa was quite volatile in those days, and as I was older than Jamie, I tried to look out for him. My grandparents made sure that we had a nurse and food and clothing. Grandpapa did not wish to punish us, after all, and I think he wanted to ensure that Jamie, as the heir, would receive a proper upbringing. I believe there was even some talk at one time that we would go to live with our grandparents but neither Mama nor Papa would allow that.”

“Even if it meant that you two saw more than you should of your father’s temper?”

“To be fair, we weren’t often in Papa’s company when he was in one of his moods. And I do not think either of us would have wished to leave Mama. We were a close-knit family despite our troubles. And when things were good, Papa could be quite entertaining.”

“But…”

“But there were many times when we heard our parents arguing downstairs. And a few times Papa came up to the nursery to prove some point to Mama—I think to show her that we were suffering as a result of his parents’ interference. And those times were quite terrifying.”

Though he knew that Lord Essex was now the pattern card of respectability, some part of Christian wished that he could go back in time and thrash the younger version for what he’d forced his children to suffer through. Because though Maddie obviously wished to downplay the incidents, he suspected there was much more to the story than she was telling. The idea of her as a little girl, cuddling her brother close as they listened to their parents arguing, filled him with inexpressible rage.

“What did he do?” he asked aloud.

“Mostly he queried us about our well-being. Did we get enough to eat? Were our lessons enough? Did our nurse treat us well?”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” Christian said carefully. Perhaps he’d misjudged Essex.

“The questions themselves weren’t awful in and of themselves. It was…” She shook her head as if searching for the words to describe the experience. “It was as if he were asking us questions that had another meaning altogether from the surface. Because he was trying to prove some point I think we knew instinctively that if we gave the wrong answer he might react negatively.”

“And then what would happen?”

“He might shout at us, at Mama, at nurse.”

“But you say that he never hit you.”

“No, he never did,” she explained, “but, and I can only say this from my own perspective, it always felt as if he might become violent at any minute when he was drinking.”

“So this is why you keep such close watch over Linton?” he asked, unable to resist the urge any longer, and reaching out to take her gloved hand in his. He understood her need to look after her brother far more than she could know. He, too, had tried to protect a sibling once. And failed. Would he cause Maddie to do the same?

It was the most damnable coil.

“Yes, though I suppose it sounds silly to you,” she said quietly. Not waiting for him to respond, she went on. “Papa stopped drinking almost as soon as his father died. I think he regretted losing the chance to mend fences with him. And Mama insisted, of course. I think she grew tired of remonstrating with him. And when he assumed the earldom, he finally realized that he needed to take his responsibilities more seriously.”

Christian sensed that there was more to the story, but the inner workings of the Essex household were beyond him at the moment. All he cared about was seeing to it that Maddie did not come to harm, and that she never had to suffer the kind of grief and regret that he had. Surely he could do that along with his duty to the Home Office.

“So your brother has gone on to follow in your father’s footsteps,” he said finally. He thought back to the scene last night at the Marchfords’, and was glad he hadn’t informed Maddie of what he’d seen. The knowledge would only distress her further.

When she looked up, he saw moisture in her eyes. “I greatly fear he has. Which is why I have to ensure that he does not become any more involved in this business over Tinker’s death than he already is.”

Though he now understood her reasons for wishing to rescue Linton, remembering the man’s inebriation last night and his sickly pallor this morning, Christian very much feared that it could be too late for Maddie to save her brother. From either his gambling or his drinking.

If he had a chance to do things over again, he would do his damnedest to shield his sister Clarissa from the danger that led to her death, and much as he wished to protect Maddie, he could not fault her for the worries for her brother that drove her to risk her own reputation.

“I’d better get you home,” he told her, not meeting her eyes lest she see the approval there. He might understand her need to shield Linton, but he could not give her his support while she was intent on putting herself in danger.

He’d lost one woman he cared for, and he was damned if he’d lose another without putting up a fight.

*   *   *

When Maddie returned home it was to find that Juliet had called in her absence and was waiting for her in her sitting room.

“What brings you here?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of tea and removing her gloves. “I thought you were supposed to go shopping with Cecily this morning.”

“I was,” Juliet said, sipping from her own cup. “But Cecily wasn’t feeling well this morning so we decided to postpone our trip. Which is just as well since it would be more fun if the three of us could go together.”

“You know I would love to. I simply couldn’t go this morning. I had an errand.”

“Yes, that’s what I heard,” Juliet said, unable to conceal a grin. “I heard from Alec that he saw you with Gresham in Green Park.”

“How the devil do you know that already? It hasn’t been more than fifteen minutes since we left the park!” Really, was it too much to ask that she have one morning to herself without half the
ton
gossiping about her and with whom she was seen?

“Come, Maddie,” Juliet chided, “you know better than to try to hide anything in this town. Someone is always watching. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if our servants had a network of their own to carry tales to one another.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, precisely,” Maddie groused. “I simply accepted a ride home with Gresham in his phaeton instead of taking a hackney.”

“Interesting.” Her cousin’s green eyes twinkled. “Because it sounded to me as if the two of you were deeply engrossed in conversation in the park.
Alone.
”

Despite her efforts to school her features, Maddie was unable to prevent the blush from creeping into her cheeks. Even so, she tried to deny Juliet’s implication. “We happened to be going in the same direction and he offered to drive me home. In an open carriage. We stopped in the park to discuss … um … Mr. Tinker’s death. It was all perfectly innocuous, I assure you.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Juliet said with a raised brow. “Perfectly innocuous. Which is why you are blushing, of course.”

“I wish you would stop teasing me, Juliet,” Maddie said, unable to keep up the pretense any longer. “My relationship with Gresham … or rather this morning’s encounter
was
innocuous. I went to visit Mr. Tinker’s widow and unexpectedly met Gresham there.”

Juliet’s face lost all playfulness. “Oh, Maddie, I am so sorry. I had no idea. Why didn’t you ask Cecily or me to come with you? We would have been more than happy to.”

Feeling churlish for her pique, Maddie sighed. “I know you would have come with me, but I felt it best to go alone, since I do not even know Mrs. Tinker and I did not wish to intrude upon her more than was necessary.”

“But you did go,” Juliet pointed out. “You must know that you had nothing to do with that man’s death. Don’t you?”

“I do,” she responded, shaking her head to clear the memories of that night from her mind. “But I did wish to see her and offer her my sympathies. And I thought perhaps that she would wish to hear more about her husband’s last moments. I underestimated her anger about the whole situation, I fear.”

“Anger?” her cousin asked. “Why should she be angry with you? You were hardly responsible for his death.”

“She was angry at Linton,” Maddie explained, remembering with mortification just how Mrs. Tinker had railed against her brother. “She holds him much to blame for her husband’s death.”

“Well, Linton can hardly have kept a grown man from going to a gaming hell. And it’s not as if he killed Mr. Tinker, after all.”

“True,” Maddie said. “We don’t know what sort of influence Linton might have had over the man. But I will learn it from him at the soonest opportunity. If for no other reason than to warn him that Gresham is looking into the matter for the Home Office.”

“Gresham?” Juliet demanded. “Is that why he was there that night? I vow I did find it odd to hear that he was in a place like Mrs. Bailey’s. It’s no small secret that he hasn’t much interest in gaming.”

“Well, he was there investigating something,” Maddie confirmed. “And he is definitely interested in Mr. Tinker’s murder. That was how I came to ride home with him. He came upon me on Mrs. Tinker’s doorstep.”

“Really?” Juliet pulled the tea tray closer and took a macaroon. “So he was following you?”

“Hmm, that hadn’t occurred to me,” Maddie admitted. “I suppose I thought he was there for his own reasons.”

“Well, perhaps his own reasons have something to do with looking out for you,” Juliet said slyly. “Because he
likes
you.”

“Lord spare me from happily married ladies hell-bent on matchmaking,” Maddie said with a sigh.