Lucasta (15 page)

March winds tore at them as they rode back into London, gusting between the houses and swirling the dust in the darkened streets. When the reached the corner of Milk Street they drew rein. Mr Loughton beckoned to a muffled figure sheltering in a doorway.

‘Any news, Price?’

The man touched his forelock.

‘No, sir. He went to the tavern for his dinner, then back to his lodging. He’s there now.’

‘Very well. Look after the horses, Price. We’ll go in.’

The shutters were up on the cheesemonger’s window but light shone through the cracks. Potts knocked softly on the door and when he heard movement on the inside he said quietly, ‘Sarah? It’s me, Jacob.’

The door opened a crack and the widow looked out, clearly startled to find such a crowd on her doorstep. Mr Loughton stepped forward.

‘No need to be afraid, Mistress. I’m here from Bow Street on a matter of business to see your lodger, Mr Miesel.’

‘What he says is right, Sarah,’ said Potts. ‘Open the door, my dear.’

As the door opened Lucasta found the viscount gripping her arm. He turned her, forcing her to face him.

‘When Miesel finds he is cornered he might turn vicious,’ he said. ‘Too many of us in one small room could be very dangerous, This time I must insist you do as I say, Lucasta. You will stay downstairs with Mrs Jessop, is that
understood
?’

He gripped her arms, giving her a little shake.

‘Do you understand that, Lucasta? You must stay
downstairs
, promise me.’

His eyes bored into her and she read concern in their dark depths.

‘I promise, Adam.’

‘And promise me, whatever happens, even if Miesel should escape, you will not put yourself in any danger.’

‘You have my word.’

He smiled, sliding his hands down her arms until he reached her gloved fingers, which he squeezed gently.

‘Thank you, my dear.’ He straightened, and gave Mrs Jessop his charming smile. ‘Now, ladies if you would please wait here?’

Adam and Jacob followed Loughton up the stairs into the darkness of the landing. There was a strip of dim light coming from under one door. Loughton knocked and entered upon the echo. Miesel jumped up as they entered, scrabbling to throw a blanket over the little collection of items
scattered
over the bed. With surprising speed Loughton sprang forward and caught him.

‘Not so fast, my fine fellow. Let’s have a look at what we have here.’

Adam crossed the room. He heard Jacob give a low
whistle
behind him.

‘Looks as if he’s been caught red-handed.’

The dim lamplight glinted on the silver-backed brush and comb,. An enamelled snuff-box nestled in the folds of a fine silk handkerchief bearing the initials “TB” clearly in one corner, and next to that, winking beside its leather pouch, an emerald necklace curled sinuously over a crease in the bedcover.

‘No, no, it’s not mine!’ protested Miesel. ‘It was here, like this, when I came back from my dinner. Someone is trying to pin the blame upon me.’ He caught sight of Adam, still
wearing
his dark wig and unshaven beard and his eyes narrowed. ‘Him!’ he hissed out. ‘The Frenchy. He tried to blackmail me. He put these things here!’

‘No, no that won’t work this time,’ growled Loughton, not releasing his grip. ‘Those fools you hired to attack this gentleman were a rum lot, Miesel. When they was caught they didn’t take much persuading to tell us who put ’em up to it.’

Miesel stopped struggling. He glanced malevolently at Adam.

‘So you did go to the magistrates. After the reward, was you?’ When Adam said nothing he sighed. ‘Very well. If that’s the case I suppose it’s all over.’

The fight went out of him. His shoulders drooped, his head hung to one side, signalling defeat.

‘Well now, that’s a sensible cove,’ nodded Loughton, approvingly. We’ll gather up this evidence and—’

‘Watch out!’

Adam’s shout was too late. In the brief instant that Loughton relaxed his guard, Miesel jumped back into the darkness behind him and picked up a pistol, which he now levelled at the three men. He waved them away from the door.

‘You have only one shot,’ said Loughton. ‘There are three of us: you cannot kill us all.’

The man’s lip curled savagely.

‘Aye, but which one of you wants to die?’ He scooped up the emeralds into his pocket.

‘I didn’t shoot Bradfield just be foiled by a damned Frenchie!’

‘So you
did
kill him,’ said Mr Loughton.

‘Aye. One of the horses had picked up a stone and we had to stop to remove it. Sir Talbot was cursing me for not being his groom. Hah! He had chosen to have me travel with him, yet as soon as things went against him it was all my fault!

‘He was lecturing me, telling me I was worth nothing to him. Not a word for my loyalty over all these years, always looking to his comfort, foregoing wages when the dibs wasn’t in tune.’ Miesel’s thin lip curled. ‘It was too much, I would not listen to such ramblings any more. I pulled the carriage pistol from its holster and fired. That shook him – not so useless after all, am I? And it seemed a shame to leave the gewgaws there in the dressing case, waiting for any magpie to thieve them, so I took ’em, as recompense for all those times he couldn’t pay me. Stand back!’

The words shot out as Adam moved. Immediately the pistol was pointing at his stomach.

Adam lifted his hands and stepped back. At the same time Loughton launched himself at Miesel, knocking his hand. The pistol went off but the ball buried itself
harmlessly
in the plaster. Snarling, Miesel brought the butt down heavily upon Loughton’s head. The Runner fell back against Jacob, both of them cannoning into Adam and in the confines of the small room it took a moment for them to untangle themselves, a moment that allowed Miesel to
hurl himself out of the door.

Sarah Jessop looked enquiringly at Lucasta as they moved into the lamp-lit shop. Behind the shuttered glass the windows were full of round cheeses, piled high ready for the morning.

‘You have been busy,’ remarked Lucasta, looking about her.

‘The morning is always the busiest time,’ replied Sarah. ‘I like to have the truckles ready to cut. Will you tell me what is going on? Is Jacob in trouble?’

‘No, no, it is your lodger who is the villain of the piece, Mrs Jessop. They have come to arrest him.’

‘Mercy me! Then I think I have a right to know the story.’

Lucasta was listening to the clump of footsteps overhead, the murmur of voices.

‘It would take too long. Jacob shall tell you everything tomorrow.’

There was a change in the murmurs from the room above, one of the voices became more strident. Lucasta’s mouth was dry, it was difficult to listen when the blood was pounding so heavily in her ears. There was a thud, a
scuffle
and a shot. Sarah gasped. The viscount’s voice came from above.

‘He’s getting away!’

The two women stared at each other, wide-eyed as they heard the clatter of boots on the stairs. Only for a second did they hesitate: as one, they moved towards the cheeses piled nearest the door and pushed. The pile tottered and tumbled out of the open door, thudding and rolling across the bottom of the stairs just as Miesel hurtled down. There was no room for his feet between the heavy, muslin-wrapped truckles and he fell, sprawling, into the chaos.

A steadier footstep sounded and Mr Loughton appeared
on the bottom step, grinning broadly at the devastation.

‘Oh, well done, Mistress. The villain brought down with a cheese, by Gad!’

Lucasta ran to the door with Mistress Jessop. She peered over the Runner’s shoulder and up into the darkness.

‘There was a shot—’

‘Bless you, miss, no one’s hurt, the bullet went harmlessly into the wall – it’s a very
small
hole, Mistress,’ he added quickly with a guilty glance at Sarah.

He stepped carefully between the cheeses and gripped Miesel’s collar.

‘Well, now, sir, I think we’ll have that necklace out o’ your pocket and put it in mine for safe keeping. Then it’s off to the magistrate’s court with you.’

‘Aye, take him away,’ muttered Sarah, bending to pick up one of the truckles and put it back in the window. ‘Heaven knows if any of these will be of use, now.’

‘Well, Mistress, there is a reward for the apprehension of this villain, and for the safe return of the Bradfield
emeralds
, so that might be some recompense for your troubles, eh?’

Sarah grinned.

‘Aye, that it might.’

‘Mistress Jessop, a thousand apologies for this upset.’ Lord Kennington came down the stairs with Potts close
behind him. You have taken no injury, I trust?’

‘None, thank you sir. Nothing that a little effort cannot mend.’

Potts followed his master into the shop.

‘With your permission, my lord, I would like to stay here. After this kick up Mistress Jessop might be glad of a hand putting everything to rights.’

‘I am sure Lord Kennington would be glad for you to remain here,’ put in Lucasta. ‘I know for my own part I should find it a comfort to have a good man such as yourself around the house.’

Jacob threw out his chest at this fulsome praise and Sarah’s rosy cheeks grew even pinker.

‘I would be glad of Mr Potts’ company, miss, to be sure. If he can be spared.’

‘Then it is settled,’ agreed the viscount. ‘I shall take your horse back to the stables, Jacob and shall look for you at Filwood House in the morning.’ He put out his hand. ‘Miss Symonds, I think now it is time to take you home.’

Escorted by Lord Kennington, Lucasta followed Mr Loughton and his prisoner back to the corner of Milk Street where Price was anxiously awaiting them. He looked relieved to hand back responsibility for the horses, confiding to the viscount that he didn’t understand these nervy,
high-strung
beasts and was much more at home looking after hardened criminals.

‘If that’s the case, me lad, you can keep hold o’ this one,’ retorted Mr Loughton, pushing Miesel forward. ‘He’s a thief and a murderer.’ He then turned to the viscount, touching his hat. ‘So I’ll say goodnight to you, my lord. I shall take leave to call at Filwood House tomorrow to report how matters stand to her grace, and to take a signed deposition
from you, my lord – and I shall be wanting one from you, too, miss.’

‘We would not want you traipsing all over London
tomorrow
, Loughton, so I shall send the carriage for Miss Symonds to bring her to Filwood House, then you can talk to us all together. Shall we say at three o’clock?’

With the arrangements agreed it was time to depart. The viscount threw Lucasta into the saddle and they set off through the darkened streets, Jacob’s horse trotting along beside them.

‘I may soon be obliged to find myself a new groom,’ remarked the viscount with a chuckle. ‘I never thought Potts would become leg-shackled, but he is well and truly smitten, is he not? I wonder if he really wishes to sell cheese? If not, I must find a house on one of my estates for Jacob and his wife. What say you, Luke?’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘You are very quiet: are you tired, Lucasta?’

‘Yes I am, desperately so.’ It was an effort even to speak, but she turned her head to give him a weary smile. ‘It has come upon me very suddenly. Yet it cannot be so very late.’

‘It was nearing eleven when we left Milk Street.’

‘It is early then, and we could go on to attend several parties, if we so wished!’

He laughed.

‘I want only to wash, shave and sleep – and of those I think sleep will take precedence.’

‘And you may sleep easily, now Adam, for your innocence is proven. You have done it.’

‘
We
have done it.’ He reached out his hand to her. ‘I am truly grateful to you, Lucasta, even if fears for your safety have made me less than gracious at times.’

He squeezed her fingers. Lucasta felt a sudden
constriction
.
in her throat. She was unable to speak.

‘You are free from all suspicion,’ she managed at last. ‘That is all that matters.’

As they rode westward the streets grew wider and their way was illuminated by streetlamps and the torcheres burning outside the grander houses. When they turned into Sophia Street Lucasta was surprised to see all windows of her mother’s house ablaze with light.

‘Mama has visitors. How strange, that these parties are going on: I feel I have been in a different world.’ She glanced at her companion and said, shyly, ‘Will you come in, my lord?’

‘I think my ragged appearance would be too shocking for a drawing-room. But pray tell them the good news. After we have talked to Loughton tomorrow and matters are settled I am sure the word will spread very quickly. I hope then Lady Symonds will feel able to receive me without
embarrassment
.’

‘There should never have been any embarrassment,’ she muttered fiercely.

He smiled at her.

‘You have always been my champion, Lucasta, have you not? Now, here is your estimable butler holding open the door for you. You must go in, my dear. Shall I assist you?’

‘No pray do not get down.’ She slid easily from the saddle. ‘My regards to Madam Duchess, my lord. I look forward to seeing her tomorrow.’

She watched him ride away before hurrying up the stairs into the house. Lady Symonds was entertaining, she was informed. A small party, in the drawing-room: perhaps Miss Symonds would care to change her muddy habit before going in? Lucasta barely heard the butler’s words. Her tiredness was gone now and she was eager to share her news with her
family. She almost ran to the drawing-room and burst in, unable to prevent a beaming smile breaking out upon her face.

‘He is free!’ she declared as she walked into the room. ‘The real killer has been found, and confessed, and Adam is free!’

Silence met her words. She looked at the little group before her. It was indeed a small party. Lady Symonds was seated upon a sofa on one side of the fireplace with Camilla beside her, while Sir Hilary Collingham occupied a chair opposite. He had risen to his feet upon her entrance, and now he was the first to react to her announcement.

‘A good evening to you, Miss Symonds. So Kennington’s innocence is proved! Capital news! You had it from the duchess, I suppose? Lady Symonds explained to me that you was dining at Filwood House.’

‘Y-yes.’ As he bowed over her hand her brain raced to put together her story. Only now did she realize how impossible it would be to explain her evening’s adventures. ‘Yes, she was informed tonight that the real villain has been
apprehended
.’

‘Well thank heaven for that,’ declared Lady Symonds. ‘I shall send a note to the duchess tomorrow, offering my congratulations. And one to the viscount: I shall invite him to join us for dinner one day soon. Of course, we never doubted Kennington’s innocence for a moment.’

‘Camilla.’ Lucasta bent a searching look upon her sister. ‘Are you not pleased to know Lord Kennington is no longer under suspicion?’

‘Of course I am.’ She began to fan herself vigorously. ‘It has been such a worry.’

‘As indeed it would be,’ nodded Sir Hilary. ‘I understand you knew the viscount before coming to Town, is that not so?’

‘Why yes,’ replied Lady Symonds, all smiles. ‘He was a
frequent visitor to Oaklands as a boy. Quite a favourite with us.’

‘He is a fine fellow,’ agreed Sir Hilary. ‘But who is the real villain? How was he taken up? I am intrigued to learn more—’

With a look of pure alarm, Lady Symonds broke in quickly.

‘Lucasta has been out riding all day, I doubt she has anything to add that is not mere speculation. We must wait a little for the true facts to emerge.’

Lucasta was not sure how much her mama had guessed of her activities that evening, but she took the hint and immediately disclaimed any more knowledge of the matter.

‘I am sorry. I should not have burst in upon you in all my mud. Please, excuse me!’

And with this strangled apology, she fled to the seclusion of her bedchamber.

The clock was striking three the following afternoon as Lucasta was shown into the morning-room at Filwood House. She was a little disconcerted to find only Lord Kennington there to receive her.

‘My godmother is in the library with Mr Loughton. He is making his report to her there.’ He kissed her hand and her fingers trembled. ‘You are shivering: come and sit by the fire. I hope you found your Mama and sister well when you went home last night?’

‘Yes, thank you, my lord. They are delighted to know that you are no longer suspected of murder.’ She hesitated. ‘They assume I spent the afternoon riding with the duchess, and then dining here. I have not told them otherwise: after a little reflection I decided it would be best not to divulge my part in last night’s … activities.’

‘No,’ he grinned.’ If your mama knew we had been
adventuring
together again, she might think me obliged to marry you. A ridiculous thought, is it not?’

She forced herself to laugh but it sounded hollow to her own ears.

‘Q-quite ridiculous.’

‘You have been out walking this morning.’

She looked up quickly.

‘Why, yes, how do you know that?’ she put her hands up to her cheeks. ‘I suppose my skin is a little brown. Oh dear. I did not take a parasol with me, for although it is such a sunny day I thought it would not matter, being so early in the year. I – um – I needed some ribbons for my gown.’

A lame excuse, she thought, but she could not tell him the truth, that she did not want to listen to her mother’s remarks upon betrothals and marriage settlements, nor Camilla’s discussions of bridal gowns and trousseaus.

‘Indeed,’ she said brightly, ‘the shops were so inviting that I spent much longer in Bond Street than I had planned and returned home with barely enough time to change into my dress to come here.’

It had suited her very well to be in and out of the house without a word to her family: no time for talk of weddings and betrothals to upset her.

‘I see. Then you will not know. I called at Sophia Street this morning and I—’

He broke off as the door opened. Mr Giggs peeped in.

‘Oh, do I intrude?’ He came forward, not waiting for a reply. ‘It is Miss Symonds, is it not? How do you do? You are here to see her grace, I have no doubt. She is closeted with Mr Loughton at the moment – discussing this shocking
business
of the murder. You know all about it, of course?’

‘Yes, I—’

‘I must tell you I was never more relieved than when I
heard it was all over, that the real culprit had been
discovered
and our dear Lord Kennington is free!’

The viscount put up a hand

‘I think there are a few formalities to be gone through yet, Mr Giggs.’

‘But that is all they will be, formalities. Then we may all be comfortable again.’ He turned his smiling face back to Lucasta. She was a little surprised. He seemed so much more animated than when they had met at Coombe Chase. ‘And you are here to see the duchess. Her grace’s carriage brought you to the door, in fact, so she must want to see you!’ He gave a little titter. ‘I think she has taken quite a fancy to you, Miss Symonds. And what a treat is in store for you, for the duke himself is in residence! Yes, the duke, her son! I can see by your look that you are surprised. He arrived only last night, quite unannounced.’

‘And I have not yet had time to inform Miss Symonds,’ put in the viscount through gritted teeth. Mr Giggs continued unabashed.

‘I am sure he will be delighted to meet you, my dear. He is always eager to know her grace’s little interests.’

Lucasta was not at all sure that she liked being called a ‘little interest’ but at that moment the door opened and the duchess herself entered. She merely nodded to Mr Giggs but greeted Lucasta warmly, and told her that Mr Loughton was waiting to talk to her in the library. Giggs looked up.

‘Oh? So our investigator wishes to see Miss Symonds, too? Dear me, I had no idea you were involved in this sordid little mystery.’

‘She is not,’ returned the duchess calmly. ‘But since we move in the same circles she has some knowledge of Sir Talbot and his valet. Run along, my dear, and when you have done you may bring Mr Loughton back here with you for a
little refreshment.’

A short time later Lucasta was on her way back to the morning-room. Her interview with Mr Loughton had not been as bad as she had feared, he had treated her with a respectful kindness, made his notes quickly and then informed her that she had nothing more to worry about.

‘And Lord Kennington is completely free now?’ She looked up anxiously into his craggy face.

‘Well, there will be documents to be written, and a court appearance or two, but nothing to worry about. The case against Miesel is all right and tight.’

‘And – and that poor boy, the one they thought was Mr Smith?’

‘Oh he has been released and sent home. His mysterious benefactor stood bail for him, paid his fees and set up a fund for him and his mother. Of course, it is not for me to
speculate
, but I think we might guess who the benefactor might be.’ He chuckled and tapped his nose. ‘A generous and kind hearted lady, wouldn’t you say, miss? A great lady, indeed, she is, and one that isn’t above entertaining the likes o’ me to a glass o’ wine.’

He was still chuckling as the footman opened the door to the morning-room and announced them.

Mr Giggs was standing before the fireplace holding forth upon some obscure subject; the viscount stood at the window, ignoring him, and the duchess was sitting on one of the satin-covered sofas, looking bored. She looked around as the door opened and beckoned to Lucasta.