How to Entice an Earl (30 page)

“Of course,” Lady Emily said. “In fact, it’s been over a year since he first approached Lord Essex. But I’m afraid your father does not think me a suitable match for his son and heir. Not by half.”

She should not have been surprised by the news, but Maddie was. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t believe her father would do such a thing. It took only a glance at his condemnation of her match with Christian to know that he cared little for his childrens’ happiness and everything for appearances. But she had always thought Linton’s scandalous reputation to be primarily the result of his own recklessness, with only a bit of the blame laid at their father’s door. Now she saw that in this instance, at least, her brother had tried to do the right thing, and been prevented from doing so by their father. Who would doubtless condemn her brother for the scandal of a quick marriage to the mother of his unborn child.

Not commenting on her father’s role in Lady Emily’s current situation, Maddie took the other woman’s hand. “I will see what I can do.”

Eighteen

It had been hard as hell to slip out of Maddie’s arms, dress, and head to White’s, but when he found Leighton seated in the coffee room, frowning over the papers, Christian knew he’d done the right thing. His superior looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes beneath his spectacles were red rimmed and tired.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Leighton said, the courtesy itself putting Gresham on further alert. “I know today of all days is the worst time possible to interrupt your sleep, but I knew that you needed to hear this as soon as possible.”

Immediately, Christian felt his whole body go on alert. “What is it?” he demanded.

“It’s Viscount Linton, I’m afraid,” the other man said curtly. “He is missing.”

Christian swore.

“I had word this morning that Gunning and Hedley lost him,” Leighton continued. “As far as they could tell, he was snug as a bug two nights ago in the hunting lodge where he decided to take refuge. They retired to the inn where they’d been staying, and sometime in the night, the whole town was roused to help douse a fire in a local house.”

“The hunting lodge,” Monteith guessed, his jaw tightening. He could have argued with Leighton over the wisdom of Gunning and Hedley not taking turns watching the lodge, instead of both retiring to their beds at the same bloody time, but it was clearly too late for such niceties now. “Was there no sign of him in the house? No body?”

Leighton shook his head. “Nothing that they were able to see. Of course they aren’t sure if Essex himself set the fire, or if someone else set it hoping to kill him in the ensuing blaze. The important thing is that he was not found in the ruins of the lodge, so there is every hope that he is alive and well, and simply hiding.”

Christian rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Yes, it is good that he is not obviously murdered, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Leighton said. “And though I had the men watching Linton out of an abundance of caution lest he become the target of the Bonapartists, I agree with you that Tinker’s murder was likely the work of someone who blamed him for Fielding’s death. The threats against Tretham and Linton seem far more credible a reason for his murder than his involvement with the Bonapartists.”

“It does seem unlikely that the Citizen’s Liberation Society would kill Tinker and then pass up the opportunity to use it to promote their cause,” Christian said with a sigh. “And there has been no mention of them in the press since the murder.”

He rubbed his chin. “It is possible, however, that the CLS was involved in the death in some other way.”

“Could it be that Tinker killed Fielding because Fielding learned of his involvement with the society?” Leighton asked, his eyes losing some of their fatigue. “It would be easy enough to spook a horse along the road to Bath. There are any number of places to hide. And accidents like that happen all the time.”

Christian leaned back in his chair and thought it over. “I suppose it is possible,” he said. “Tinker would most likely not be pleased to have his affiliation with them known. And a loose fish like Fielding would hardly be the sort you’d trust with a secret like that. And, since he wasn’t involved in the race, Tinker would find it easy enough to tamper wth the curricle in hopes that it would crash in the middle of the race.”

“Any of them would,” Leighton said with a nod. “Whoever Fielding’s avenger is blames all of them—Tinker, Tretham, and Linton—equally. And perhaps killed Tinker first as a warning to the other two.”

“It makes sense,” Christian said. “I just wish we’d known about the threats against Linton and Tretham sooner. We might have connected this business to Fielding’s death and avoided a lot of false trails.”

Leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, he asked, “What do we do now that Linton is missing again? Do Gunning and Hedley have any notion of which direction he might have been headed? Or who might be responsible for the fire? Was anyone seen in the village who might have set it?”

“They set out in different directions as soon as they informed me he was gone,” Leighton said reassuringly. “The lodge itself isn’t terribly far from the Great North Road, so he might be headed north or to the coast.”

“He might be headed anywhere, then,” Christian said with frustration. He knew as well as anyone that unless they had some sort of information about where Linton might have gone, he could disappear quite easily. The only thing working in their favor was that Linton did not have military experience, and so was unlikely to think as strategically as he might have done otherwise.

“Indeed,” Leighton agreed, drinking up the dregs of his coffee. “Which is why I knew I had to inform you as quickly as possible. My thanks for your agreement to meet me. I know it might not have been altogether agreeable for your new wife to let you go so soon.”

Christian didn’t disagree with the other man, though Maddie had been fast asleep when he left her that morning. “You’ll let me know when you hear from your men.”

The other man nodded, rising. “I’ll send for you as soon as I know something.”

Watching the older man stride away, Christian cursed inwardly at the situation. He did not relish telling Maddie that her brother was missing. Again.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you this, old fellow,” Winterson interrupted, taking the seat that Leighton had just vacated, “but you are allowed to sleep in on the day after your wedding. In fact, it’s sort of de rigueur. Like breeches at Almack’s and cant at Jackson’s.”

“Linton has flown the coop,” Christian said curtly.

Winterson whistled. “Damnation. When you have problems, you have problems.”

Christian nodded. “I’m at an impasse,” he said, after explaining the particulars of his brother-in-law’s disappearance from the hunting lodge. “I cannot simply leave town and go off in search of Linton. I just married Maddie yesterday, for God’s sake. She is a reasonable woman, but no woman is that reasonable. Even if it is her own brother.”

He did not add that he knew without a doubt that she would insist upon accompanying him. A possibility that filled him with dread.

“And you would need to tell her how you know her brother is missing. That her brother was being watched by men from Whitehall who were not quite sure if he was a traitor to the crown or not. Which could lead to some marital tension, I would guess,” Winterson said, pouring himself some coffee from the nearly empty pot.

“We did not really think him a traitor,” Christian said, knowing he was splitting hairs. “It was more that we hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he knew of Tinker’s involvement with the Bonapartists. It’s a fine distinction, but it’s there. We were protecting him, for God’s sake.”

“Yes, and you see how well that’s worked out,” Winterson said, brows raised. Then, not unkindly, he said, “She doesn’t need to know everything, you know. After all, you are her husband, and are under no particular requirement to tell her about every aspect of your work for the government. In fact, you could say that you were not allowed to tell her. Which is true enough.”

“Are you familiar with my new wife, Winterson?” Christian demanded. “For that matter, have you met your own wife? Neither of them would take kindly to being deceived. Even if it meant the choice between duty to one’s country and duty to one’s wife.”

Winterson sighed. “You are correct, of course. They are a headstrong pair, our wives. So what do you mean to do about it? If you cannot go haring across the country in search of your brother-in-law, then there must be some way to find him.”

“I suppose I will wait a couple of days to see if he doesn’t turn up in town,” Christian said glumly. “He does seem to have a remarkable way of landing on his feet. So I shall tell my wife, despite the danger to my person such a confession will engender.”

“I cannot say that I would wish to trade places with you for that conversation,” Winterson said. “Come on, then, I’ve got an idea of where we might find your little termagant. And if you’re going to tell her, you may as well get it over with.”

Following Winterson out of White’s, Christian settled his hat upon his head, took up his walking stick, and prepared himself to break the news of her brother’s disappearance to his new wife.

*   *   *

“And then what did you say?” Juliet asked, her eyes wide as she reached for another tea cake.

The three cousins were ensconced in Cecily’s private sitting room, conversing over yet another tea tray, though Juliet had argued strenuously for something a bit stronger. That notion had been vetoed by Cecily who said that they needed their wits about them if they were to find some solution to Maddie’s latest trouble.

“I told her that I would forward her note to James and that he could decide whether or not to return to London,” Maddie said, rubbing a finger over her brow. “I must say, she took it rather well. Though I don’t suppose she had much choice. What was she to do? Break a teacup and threaten me with the broken crockery? It just troubles me to know that my brother would behave in such a ramshackle fashion. Though I suppose he did leave town for his own safety.”

“I know that you are worried for your brother,” Cecily said, “but perhaps he really has some affection for Lady Emily and left town, and her, reluctantly.”

“You are certainly looking at the situation with a romantic eye, Cecily,” Juliet said with a frown. “I know none of us wishes to think of Linton in this way, but it is quite possible that he was simply doing what gentlemen do…” She paused, blushing a bit. “What I mean to say is that perhaps he was simply having an affair without any thought to the possible consequences.”

“But Lady Emily said that he wished to marry her,” Maddie said, setting her teacup down. “I do not believe he trifled with her affections. He is not always the most circumspect of men, but my brother is a gentleman after all.”

Her cousins nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure they agreed with her. It was so difficult to tell sometimes. Still, she was glad to have talked the matter over with them. When Lady Emily had left, her first thought had been to send for Christian, but she refused to become one of those wives who could not make the slightest decision without consulting her lord and master.

Reminded of her new bridegroom, she said, “I am afraid that the news came as a shock to me, in part because of my own situation.”

“What do you mean, dearest?” Juliet asked, grabbing her cousin’s hand.

“Never say you married Monteith because you are
enceinte,
” Cecily said, her mouth slightly agape. “I would never have—”

“No!” Maddie interrupted. “Not at all. It’s just that after last night’s … er … activities”—she did not meet her cousins’ eyes and knew without consulting a glass that she was blushing furiously—“I cannot help but think that it takes quite a bit of … trust … to indulge in such intimacies. And I cannot think that Lady Emily, or my brother, would do so without some degree of care for the other person.”

“Winterson says that men are much different about such things than we are,” Cecily said with a matter-of-fact tone. “They see it as a sort of physical release. Like fisticuffs or a vigorous gallop in the park.”

“Good God,” Maddie said, “so ladies are no more important to gentlemen than their horses?”

“I know quite a few gentlemen who think rather more highly of their horses than they do of any ladies of their acquaintance,” Juliet quipped. “George Vinson, for instance.”

The three ladies laughed, but then Cecily continued, “It is not so much that they see ladies as less important. It simply depends upon the lady. And it is simply not as … risky for men to indulge themselves in carnal acts. After all, they cannot become with child, and if they are well informed, they have ways of preventing disease.”

“It is true,” Juliet said with a nod. “And those ways can also be used to prevent pregnancy.”

“Really?” Maddie was fascinated despite her embarrassment. She really needed to confide in her cousins more often.

Now it was Juliet’s turn to blush. “Since we have little Alice in our household, we are not quite ready for a child of our own. And given my fears about how my infirmity will affect my ability to carry a child, we have used French letters, yes.”

“But I thought only—” Maddie stopped, not wanting to insult her cousin, but curious in spite of herself. “Are ladies able to use such things?”

“Of course,” Juliet said firmly. “It really isn’t all that difficult. Though Alec is not overly fond of them. But he knows that it isn’t forever. And he loves me and does not wish me to conceive before I am ready.”

“Well,” Maddie said with a shake of her head. “I had no idea. I wonder if Christian knows of such things.”

“Maddie,” Cecily said kindly, “he was a solider. He knows about French letters.”

“But Winterson was a soldier as well,” Maddie said, frowning. “Why didn’t you two…?”

“Because we were not anticipating … that is to say, we were…” Cecily blushed, making both Maddie and Juliet giggle. “Oh, do be quiet, you two.”

After their laughter died down, Maddie returned to the subject that brought them to such scandalous topics. “I sincerely hope that Linton loves Lady Emily as she says. For the sake of the child at the least. But I also hope that he will not come to town before the danger to his life has passed. It is all well and good to do his duty by his child’s mother, but it will do neither of them any good if he is killed before he can marry her.