Intriguing Lady (11 page)

His temper had been aroused by the comte’s presence in London, and he knew that unless he was able to make sense very soon of the lists he had stolen, his bad mood would continue. Every day that passed without a solution meant the comte could continue to ingratiate himself into Society. And Sir Nicholas’s temper had not been helped by Roberta’s attitude. She had been far too pleasant toward the comte and now, on reflection, he suspected her behavior had been a deliberate ploy to encourage the dratted Frenchman’s suit. She was playing a very dangerous game, and as yet, he couldn’t fathom what she hoped to gain. Add to that the incident of the paper she had taken from his cabin. What did she want? Another mystery…and a disturbing one.

“Drat the girl,” he murmured. “All this nonsense could have been avoided if Lord Bromley had been home when we arrived back from France.”

“Sir Nicholas?” Davids ventured tentatively, wondering what on earth had caused Sir Nicholas to vent his spleen so early in the day. It made him uneasy to see his master so obviously out of sorts. “Sir Nicholas?” he repeated when he realized his master hadn’t heard his first remark.

“Don’t stand there looking at me as if I had just descended in a hot-air balloon,” Sir Nicholas said irritably. “I was merely commenting to myself that Lord Bromley’s absence from London was ill-timed.”

“As was Mr. Lambert’s death,” Davids said solemnly. “Such a shock. So totally unexpected. To think he was here for dinner three weeks ago.”

“Quite so,” Sir Nicholas replied, and threw another crumpled stock onto the already large pile on the floor.

“Perhaps you would like me to fashion your necktie?” Davids asked. “Your shoulder must be tiring you by now.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, Davids. Oh, very well!” he added as his servant allowed an injured expression to cross his face. “Do what you can with this.”

Davids deftly folded a clean stock and wrapped it about Sir Nicholas’s neck. With a few expert moves, he produced a Windfall knot and stood back to admire his handiwork. “That should do it, Sir Nicholas,” he commented in satisfaction. “Now, if you will just let me ease your arms into your jacket, your toilet will be complete.”

“Damn your unfailing good humor,” Sir Nicholas said with a smile. “You make it impossible for one to have the dods with any degree of enjoyment.”

David’s face brightened considerably at this, for it was a sure indication that Sir Nicholas’s ill-disposition was coming to an end. “Will you be needing me again this morning?” he inquired.

“No, and I’ll be dining out tonight. Take the rest of the day off and enjoy yourself. By the way, how is the young lady you were pursuing before I left for France?”

Davids looked down at the carpet and shuffled his large feet in embarrassment. “That would be Polly, Sir Nicholas. She can be quite contrary when she wants.”

“Hanging out for a wedding band, is she?” Sir Nicholas chuckled, knowing his servant fancied himself a ladies’ man.

David’s embarrassment became acute. “She’s indicated that is what she wants.”

“Is that what you want?” Sir Nicholas asked.

“I’m not in a position even to consider such a state,” Davids replied with a shake of his head. “And so I’ve told her several times already.”

“Afraid I wouldn’t countenance such a move, are you?”

“It wouldn’t be right,” Davids said stubbornly. “We never know from one day to the next where we’ll be, do we? I could never ask anyone to share that sort of life.”

Sir Nicholas looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, there would always be a permanent position for you at Stanway, Davids, if you decided you could not live without this Polly.”

“And who would look after you, Sir Nicholas? I wouldn’t trust anyone but myself or Jenkins.”

“It wouldn’t be easy to replace you, but it could be done. Don’t, I beg you, allow a lifetime of happiness to elude you on my account. You will live to regret it and one day might place the blame for your unhappiness at my doorstep. Who knows,” he added in an effort to erase David’s doleful expression, “I might even retire when this assignment is over and done with. I fancy I’m getting a little too old for all this melodramatic work.”

“If that happens, Sir Nicholas, then I might reconsider my situation.” Davids smiled wanly and headed for the door.

“Tell Jenkins to bring my phaeton round in an hour. I’ll be in my study.”

He watched Davids leave, and his mood of discontent deepened. He suddenly wished he had never met Lord Bromley, never embroiled himself in the comte’s nefarious affairs or left Stanway in the first place. If he had stayed in the country, how different his life would be.

*

The excitement Roberta felt when she realized she might have found the key to deciphering the list bubbled over. She threw down her pen and stretched her aching back. She had been bent over for an hour or more and now felt very stiff. She pushed back her chair, stood up and danced about the room.

“I’ve done it!” she sang. “I do believe I have done it!” And how easy it had been once she had discovered that QFRGJWY actually spelled LAMBERT.

She hugged the knowledge to herself and prayed that Lord Bromley’s return was imminent.

Her good humor was still with her when she joined Mrs. Ashley for dinner, greeting her companion with more animation than she had shown in a long while.

“My, my,” Mrs. Ashley remarked between mouthfuls of her lobster-stuffed sole. “You are in high spirits tonight.”

“Indeed I am, Ashley,” she responded gaily.

“I can’t imagine what has occurred to make you feel that way. As far as I am aware, you haven’t been anywhere or seen anyone. It must be the change in the weather.”

Mrs. Ashley studied Roberta skeptically until her attention was claimed by the butler and the tantalizing tray he held. She nodded her acceptance of the varied array of food, and only when her plate was filled did she turn her attention back to the younger woman.

“Perkins informs me we can expect to see Lord Bromley on the morrow,” she remarked.

“Tomorrow?” Roberta exclaimed, quickly declining everything the butler offered, except the smallest slice of veal. “What time?”

“Midmorning, I think. I expect you will be pleased to see him.”

“Very much so,” Roberta remarked. “Do you think he will be pleasantly surprised by the improvement in my health?”

“He will, indeed, although what he will have to say when he hears of our involvement with the comte is another matter entirely. I forgot whether I told you what Sally Jersey had to say of him.”

“She knows the comte?”

“Quite intimately, I would say. I asked her about him when she visited with us yesterday. She is very taken by his charm and thinks him a delightful addition to her circle of friends.”

“He certainly knows how to charm the elderly,” Roberta observed cynically. “Although, even if I had met him under different circumstances, I doubt I would have been taken in. Did Sally Jersey know anything of the affair Sir Nicholas was conducting with the comte’s sister?”

“She didn’t make mention of it, so I don’t think she does. You know how she likes to suppose she’s up on every
on-dit
in town. Anyway, I’m just thankful I’m not an intimate member of her circle and that I don’t have to acknowledge him.”

“You may, dear Ashley, you may. He has promised to pay us a social call in the near future.”

“Then I can only pray we are out.”

Mrs. Ashley’s worst fears were realized the next morning. The butler, without fanfare, announced the comte was downstairs waiting to be received.

“You didn’t tell him we were in?” she asked in great agitation.

“No, Mrs. Ashley, but as the hour is still early, I think he assumes you can’t have stepped out.”

“Oh, dear! Would it be terribly rude of us to deny him, Roberta?”

“Unforgivable,” Roberta replied firmly. “We have to face him sometime, Ashley. However, if you really feel unequal to the task, I will receive him alone.”

“Never!” Mrs. Ashley retorted with unaccustomed spirit. She stood up quickly and nervously smoothed the creases from her taffeta gown. “For your sake, I will brave this meeting, and I can only hope he realizes that good form dictates it shouldn’t last more than twenty minutes.”

Roberta turned to the butler. “We will receive him in ten minutes.” The servant bowed and withdrew. Roberta pushed the lace curtain back slightly and looked out across the square, where she noticed a man standing beneath the oak tree. She frowned and let the curtain fall back into place. Had he not been there yesterday? And the day before? Could it be that Sir Nicholas had engaged someone to watch the house? She shook her head in bewilderment and then chided herself for being too fanciful. Still, she would mention it to her uncle.

At that moment the comte entered. He paused dramatically on the threshold and, ignoring Mrs. Ashley, smiled at Roberta and strode across the room.

“Mademoiselle Rushforth. I hope you forgive the earliness of my visit. I was afraid you wouldn’t be in if I called later in the day.”

Roberta inclined her head and forced herself to smile. “We seldom brave the brisk winds before noon,” she said, “so we are grateful for any company that will break the tedium of the morning.”

His eyes hardened at her veiled snub. “I came to pay my respects to you and your father. How is he?”

“As well as can be expected for a man of his advanced years,” she replied, a slight tremor breaking her voice. “He has retired to the country for a while.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps you should have taken more time—broken your trip and spent more than one night at the inns along the way.”

Roberta laughed and strove to hide the concern she felt at his obvious probing. “I’m afraid I was responsible for our mad dash and Papa’s subsequent exhaustion,” she responded. “I gave little thought to my traveling companions’ comfort. Is that not correct, Ashley?”

Mrs. Ashley nodded, and Roberta could tell from the way her companion was gripping the arms of her chair that she, too, felt apprehensive. “There was only one thought in her mind, and that was to see an English spring,” Mrs. Ashley said. “Although, to my mind, a spring in any country is very pleasant. On the whole, I would have to say it is my favorite season. Do you have any preference, Monsieur le Comte?”

Her voice was slightly higher than normal, but the comte didn’t seem to notice. “It would have to be the summer. The warmth of the sun rejuvenates me and prepares me to face another winter.”

“And my favorite is autumn,” Roberta said, thankful to Mrs. Ashley for turning the conversation so adroitly. “I love the colors the leaves take on. And the crisp air is so pleasant. I do concede, however, it is quite the saddest season, for when the trees lose their leaves, they seem so vulnerable in their nakedness.”

The comte smiled at this and then said more softly, “I would like it very much if you would agree to come for a ride with me. I’m considering purchasing Sir Gerald Lynch’s roans and would be interested in hearing your opinion of them.”

“My opinion? I hardly think I’m qualified to pass judgment on anyone’s horseflesh. I haven’t ridden, these past two years.”

“But I’m told you are very knowledgeable. Lady Jersey makes that claim.”

A sudden fear gripped Roberta. If he had talked about her to Sally Jersey, perhaps he had also learned that she had no father. But his next question, asking if her father had taught her to ride, eased her mind slightly. Surely he wouldn’t make reference to her fictitious parent if he knew she didn’t have one!

“He abhors all exercise,” she replied, shaking her head. “My uncle. Lord Bromley, is responsible for my expertise in the saddle. He used to be quite an equestrian in his youth. But as for your request, I shall keep next Monday morning for you. Although, I beg you, please don’t expect me to make any comment on the roans.”

“Until then I shall wait with ill-concealed impatience.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Good day, mademoiselle.” He gave Mrs. Ashley a brief bow as Roberta tugged at the bell-rope, and minutes later she watched him from the window as he left the house. The man under the oak tree was still there.

“You will have developed a cold by Monday, or even be stricken by the plague. Anything, Roberta, but you
will not
go for a ride with that—that person,” Mrs. Ashley choked.

“It will undoubtedly be the plague,” Roberta said with a laugh.

“You—you don’t think he suspects anything, do you?” Mrs. Ashley asked anxiously.

“No…no,”
Roberta said slowly. “Not that it will do him much good if he does uncover the truth. We’re on English soil now, and there’s nothing he can do to harm us.” She spoke with more conviction than she felt. In reality, she was worried. The comte was as much an enigma as Sir Nicholas, and she didn’t trust either of them.

Chapter 10

The sense of
relief Roberta experienced at seeing her uncle was acute, and just after the initial greetings, she asked for a private word with him.

“My dear Roberta, when you adopt that tone with me, I know you have something of the utmost urgency to discuss,” he said, his bushy white eyebrows drawn into a playful frown. “I daren’t even begin to think what sort of scrape you have embroiled yourself in in so short a time. Why, you have been in England for only a week.”