Lord Scoundrel Dies (19 page)

‘That beast enjoys her oats, I see. A very
sensible mount, Miss Honeywood.’

‘It’s sad, is it not? Bessie doesn’t get
nearly enough exercise. She occasionally pulls Aunt Margaret’s
carriage but riding her every day would do a deal more good. Quite
a few of my uncle’s horses are in the same condition.’ Miss
Honeywood looked around her and smiled. ‘A proper canter across the
heath will do her good.’

‘Or kill her off. Can she run?’

‘Don’t be unkind. Bessie may be rather
rotund but she has a good heart.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ He eyed the
slender girl in the green riding habit. She seemed a great deal
more at home on the back of a horse than she had in a ballroom,
although he’d noticed the night before that she managed to hold her
own very well. ‘Do you ride regularly at home?’

‘Every day.’ She gave him a half smile.
‘Shall I shock you, sir?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘When I am at home I ride astride. Not if we
have company, of course. But by myself and on my parent’s property
I do not ride sidesaddle.’ She was eyeing him challengingly, as if
expecting – no, eagerly anticipating – his disapprobation.

He did not give her the satisfaction. ‘A far
more enjoyable way to ride, I admit,’ he observed coolly. ‘Shall we
take the edge off them?’

Something flickered in her eyes.
Disappointment? She had been sure he would berate such
inappropriate behavior and he might well have done were it not for
the fact that she was looking forward to it so much. But then she
smiled and looked at his own mount, a large roan stallion that he
had been training for some weeks now. Prince was champing at the
bit as he took off.

‘Feel free to ride ahead. I think Bessie is
going to be hard pressed to keep up with your fine fellow.’

‘Nonsense,’ he returned briskly. ‘A rider
tells the horse what to do, not the other way round. He’ll behave
like a gentleman. I shall insist on it.’

This made her laugh. They set off, cantering
at an easy pace and if Prince was inclined to surge forward, Aubrey
was unyielding. After fifteen minutes or so, they slowed to a walk,
moving closer so that conversation was possible.

‘That was marvelous!’ his companion said,
her cheeks glowing. It went charmingly with the brilliance of her
eyes.

‘You have a good seat on a horse. Even a
sidesaddle.’

‘You didn’t think I would have, did you?’
she said cheerfully. ‘Thought I was all air and bluster?’

He grinned at that. ‘I suspected that you
could ride, but that you might be exaggerating a little. My
apologies.’

‘No offence taken, I can assure you. If you
listened to my cousin on the subject of riding, you would think
that she was a complete whip but she is hopeless on horseback and
shies at every fence.’

‘Whereas you take them without hesitation, I
daresay.’ He could imagine her, small chin set with determination,
as she fronted up to any hurdle put in her path. That was why they
were together now, after all, because she had not shied away from
an obstacle. He found that he was developing mixed feelings towards
Harriet Honeywood. While he might admire her pluck, there was
another part of him that deplored her dislike of being guided by
wiser heads and her inability to see that she might be heading for
disaster. Just the same, he forbore to give another lecture, lest
he spoil the companionable mood that had sprung up between them. It
was a beautiful day and his companion was refreshing company who
had absolutely no expectations of him. It was nice not to have to
wonder if a female was enjoying his company or the prospect of how
advantageous it would be to become his viscountess. Miss Honeywood
held no such ambitions. Instead she seemed perfectly content to
enjoy the breeze, the sunshine and the horse beneath her.

‘Did you bring the chits?’

‘Of course. How do you intend to return
them?’

‘It shouldn’t be too difficult. The man is
hosting a card party tomorrow night. I thought I would attend. It
will be easy enough to leave them somewhere that is safe but, at
the same time, obvious. To be discovered after his guests have
left, of course.’

‘Oh, that’s very good. I
wish that
I
could
organize something of the kind for my ladies. It’s remarkably
problematic, hunting them down and then ensuring that I can
actually return their things to them,’ she said ruefully. ‘There is
such a small window of opportunity, you see. I thought Miss
Messingham was going to run away from me last night, she seemed so
taken aback when I tried to strike up a conversation.’

‘Have you discovered all of the owners yet?’
he enquired, smiling inwardly at the thought of Miss Honeywood
chasing after Olivia Messingham.

‘Not quite,’ she admitted.

‘I would be happy to take a look and see if
I can identify any of the owners for you.’

She cast him a sideways glance. ‘That’s very
helpful of you.’ There was an unmistakable note of suspicion in her
voice.

‘You wound me, Miss Honeywood.’

This brought a grin. ‘I
don’t think I do. You look remarkably unscathed. May I ask why you
have suddenly decided to help me? You
said
–’

‘I know what I said and it was churlish of
me, I admit. I did not think it appropriate that a young lady
become involved in anything so unsavory as returning a man’s sordid
little trophies or the things he had been using to blackmail
others. Most distasteful. But you’re going to do it, no matter what
I say. Under the circumstances,’ he shrugged, ‘I would like to
offer my assistance.’

She still looked a little skeptical, he
noticed but she inclined her head as graciously as a queen. ‘That
is very kind of you.’

‘Brat,’ he observed wryly.
‘It is
extremely
kind of me. I will have you know that I never put myself out
for anyone. You are making my life a deal more complicated than I
am comfortable with.’

‘It will probably do you good,’ she decided
candidly. ‘I had noticed that you don’t seem to bestir yourself
much. You don’t have to, do you? People are far too eager to cater
to your whims. These efforts on my behalf could be seen in the
light of… of a penance for all of the work others do to make your
life comfortable.’

He stared at her
incredulously. ‘A
penance
?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why, yes. It will be
character building.’ Before he could give vent to his extremely
justifiable annoyance at this casual observation, she continued on.
‘There has been a new development, you know. With Mr.
Lampforth.’

‘What the devil has the young idiot gotten
up to now?’ he inquired curtly. He wasn’t feeling charitable
towards Charles Lampforth. It was because of Mr. Lampforth that his
less than robust character was currently being vilified by Harriet
Honeywood.

‘Somebody saw him on the night of Lord
Sutton’s death. We think it was when we were leaving the house.
They would not have recognized me, of course and I believe you had
already left. I don’t suppose you’ve received any unsolicited
visits that have been conducted at knifepoint?’

‘What? What do you mean, at knifepoint?’

‘Last night poor Mr. Lampforth received a
visit, when he was out, by a fellow demanding that he return a
certain necklace. I don’t know if you remember it from the other
night?’ She looked at him inquiringly. ‘It was in that box you
opened, along with the Astley necklace?’

‘I didn’t look, particularly.’ He’d been too
annoyed to look at anything in particular.

‘No. Well, the owner – whoever that may be –
wants it back and they assume Mr. Lampforth has it.’

‘And they hired somebody to threaten
Lampforth with a knife? Good God.’

‘He was a little alarmed. He has to return
the necklace this afternoon.’

‘To whom?’

‘It’s more, to where. He is supposed to drop
it off somewhere. I daresay the fellow who threatened Mr. Lampforth
will pick it up from there and return it to its rightful
owner.’

‘This is becoming more convoluted by the
moment,’ Aubrey sighed. ‘Do you see now why I advised against your
becoming involved? It’s a dangerous business.’ Irritatingly, Miss
Honeywood did not reply. He gave her an exasperated look. ‘Miss
Honeywood –’

‘I understand your viewpoint,’ she said
calmly. ‘But it really changes nothing, except to illustrate how
desperately Lord Sutton’s victims want their things back. It
convinces me even more of the… the rightness of doing what we are
doing.’

Of course it did. A part of
him
could
see how
she could think that. But another part of him was annoyed that she
was being so willful. This was getting far too serious if thugs
with knives were going around threatening peers of the realm. He
was inclined to think that it was time for Miss Honeywood to bow
out of the thing and leave the job to Lampforth and
himself.

‘Where is Lampforth to leave the
necklace?’

‘I think it was in Grosvenor Square,’ his
companion said vaguely.

‘At what time?’

‘Oh… one o’clock, perhaps?’

‘Hmm.’

They had turned around and were heading back
towards more civilized climes. Brindlebyrn Lodge, his home that
abutted the heath lay but a short distance away. Miss Honeywood had
a little further to ride.

‘I will accompany you back to your home, of
course.’

She gave him a frown. ‘If I had wished to
announce this meeting to the world we could have elected to ride
Rotten Row. Do you recall why we ended up here?’

He did, of course. And while she was right,
there was no reason for her to behave with such infernal
condescension, was there? Harriet Honeywood made it impossible for
him to behave with the courtesy he prided himself in, damn it. He
was hard pressed not to tell her that she was an impudent little
minx.

‘You do not make it easy for a man, Miss
Honeywood,’ he observed through clenched teeth.

Rather than being chastened by this, it
seemed to restore her good-humor somewhat. ‘I had not realised I
was supposed to make it easy for you. Is that one of the
characteristics you enjoy in a female, my lord?’

Restraint be damned. ‘You, Miss, are an
impertinent little minx!’

‘And you are full of fustian,’ she returned
sweetly. ‘Try to look to the future, Lord Talisker. As soon as this
inconvenient business is over, you can wash your hands of me. Why,
I won’t even hold it against you that my prospects of obtaining an
eligible match have been blighted by your sudden indifference to
me. I may even thank you, for if London is full of such preaching
fellows such as yourself, I doubt I’d want to get married
anyway.’

‘Believe me,’ he returned, goaded, ‘you will
not have to worry about such trifling matters as marriage offers
for no man in London could possibly find himself addle-brained
enough to want an alliance with such a willful, outspoken hellcat
as yourself. You would drive a man mad within the space of a
sennight!’

And that, he reflected after she had handed
over de Veer’s chits in chilly silence and departed, had been the
end of that. He felt bad about losing his temper with her but Miss
Honeywood would try the patience of a saint and he was certainly
not cut from that piece of cloth.

Just the same, he regretted his hasty words.
More than that, he regretted the loss of the camaraderie that had
sprung up between them. It had been very pleasant, while it
lasted.

As he rode the short distance back to
Brindlebyrn he frowned, thinking about what Harriet had told him
regarding Lampforth’s encounter the evening before. He would very
much like to know who was hiring thugs to collect those lost items.
In fact, he wanted to know so much that he thought he might just
turn up in Grosvenor Square at one o’clock and find Mr. Lampforth.
Perhaps he could follow whoever picked up that necklace back to the
source. Aubrey didn’t like unknown quantities. He particularly did
not like the idea that somebody might be able to link the events
that had happened the night Sutton was murdered with Harriet
Honeywood. He could take care of himself and he was fairly sure
that, in a pinch, Charles Lampforth could do the same.

But Miss Honeywood was a different matter
for all that she had the bravado of a lion.

She was a young woman with far too much
confidence in her own abilities. No matter what he said, or how he
felt, he was not inclined to leave her to her own devices yet.

Chapter Eight

‘We meet again Mr. Lampforth,’ Harry
observed cheerfully when he joined her at one-thirty, as they had
arranged. Initially, she had felt a little guilty lying to Lord
Talisker about where and when their mutual acquaintance was
supposed to drop off the necklace, thinking that he would probably
object if she admitted that she would be going along. Her guilt had
evaporated very quickly as the conversation had progressed,
however. She had known he would wish to interfere and now she was
glad that she had misdirected him. The man was completely
insufferable. Willful, outspoken hellcat indeed!

Mr. Lampforth grinned at her. ‘Do you know,
I would not object in the least if you called me Charlie? Feels
like we’re practically old friends by now.’

‘Well if that’s the case, I insist you call
me Harry,’ she replied immediately, more than happy to overlook the
breach in etiquette in addressing a man she hardly knew by his
first name. Etiquette had not loomed large in their relationship so
far, especially when one considered that first, shocking meeting.
‘My friends at home have always called me Harry.’

‘Harry,’ he agreed. He glanced at Hyacinth
who stood several feet away, eyeing a young man who was sweeping
the paths and who appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact
that a young gentleman had joined her mistress. ‘What will your
maid make of all this?’