Miss in a Man's World (24 page)

The instant he placed his hand beneath her elbow, and turned her round to face him squarely once again, she knew she could not make public their secret, at least not yet, while there remained a real purpose for the deception. She must never lose sight of that fact, she told herself for perhaps the hundredth time. She must not allow personal feelings, or a bruised ego, to make her forget that one important objective!

‘I'm sorry. I'm just blue-devilled. This whole business seems to be dragging on interminably.'

It wasn't an outright lie, and seemingly he believed her, because he said after a moment, ‘It cannot go on for ever. Just be patient a while longer, then all the pretence will blessedly be at an end.' He raised his head momentarily, as though he'd detected a sound. ‘But in
the meantime we must both endeavour to maintain our roles, for I do believe we are no longer alone.'

Even before Georgiana could think of taking evasive action, she was already a captive within the circle of his arms. Yet no prisoner could have felt less desire to escape. The instant his lips touched hers no thought of breaking free entered her head. It was almost as if her mind had closed to coherent thought, and her body had taken control, a body that instantly responded to a masterly touch that managed to combine both gentleness and sensual expertise. As had happened before, she seemed to have no will of her own and was blissfully content to submit to his control, until he finally released her and common sense once again exerted itself.

Was it pure imagination or had that same husky timbre she'd detected on one memorable occasion in the recent past been back in his voice as he suggested they return to the ballroom? Georgiana was incapable of making up her mind as his lingering embrace had left her thoughts in turmoil. Notwithstanding, she still retained wits enough to realise, as she turned and walked with him towards the door, that, save for themselves, the terrace was deserted.

B
y the time yet another week was rapidly drawing to a close Georgiana had decided that her pleasure in residing in the metropolis was assuredly waning. Not only had the week turned out to be a miserable one, as far as the weather was concerned, thereby denying her the pleasure of exercising her new grey mare, but also Lord Fincham had condescended to see her on two occasions only—once briefly at a party on Tuesday evening, when they had barely exchanged a couple of dozen words, and the day before when he had unexpectedly called at Grenville House to reveal that something had occurred at his ancestral home requiring his urgent attention, that he intended leaving town the following day, and would return as soon as maybe.

It was hardly surprising Georgiana felt scant enthusiasm for the new day ahead, when she rose from her bed much later than usual. Then she was pleasantly surprised to discover, as she padded across to the window, a city bathed in pleasant spring sunshine. The morning was all but lost to her, of course, but she was
determined not to waste the sunny afternoon and sent word to the stables for her mount to be saddled, only to discover upon reaching the mews that her escort was to be none other than her ladyship's grim head groom.

‘Where's Digby?' she demanded to know without preamble.

‘Couldn't say, miss. Went off bright and early this morning, so 'e did, just after daybreak. Said 'e wouldn't be back for a day or two.'

Understandably miffed, she gave vent to a string of colourful invective, which rather amused the dour head groom, and which resulted in a partial thawing of his usual morose demeanour as they set off in the direction of the park. All the same, he was no Digby, and Georgiana continued to feel slightly resentful over what was tantamount to her servant's desertion.

Of course she could well appreciate just why he had abandoned her. Evidently his high-and-mightiness had decreed it and had required Digby to undertake some important task whilst the Viscount himself was out of town. It wasn't the fact that she would be deprived of her servant for a day or so that annoyed her so much as his lordship's high-handed attitude in assuming he could order her servant about without first consulting her. Furthermore, why hadn't he mentioned yesterday, when he had called at the house, that he would be requiring Digby's services? And why hadn't Digby himself said anything to her, come to that? To be sure, it was like some wretched conspiracy between the pair of them!

A vaguely familiar sing-song voice hailing her cheerfully succeeded in breaking into her irritating rumination, and she raised her head to see none other than Sir Willoughby Trent—of all people!—sitting beside
the Duchess of Merton in her Grace's splendid open carriage. As the conveyance drew to a halt alongside, there was no mistaking the twinkling mischief in the foppish baronet's eyes and Georgiana prepared herself for some wicked bantering.

‘I was just saying to her Grace, why, if it isn't Miss Grey out on her lonesome and looking so sad without her swain. He departed this very hour for the country and she is pining for him already. Or is it for those lovely sapphires that he's deprived you from wearing for the rest of the Season that has brought on such a bout of melancholy?'

‘Pay him no mind, my dear child, he's nothing more than a wicked tormentor,' her Grace advised.

‘Not at all,' Sir Willoughby countered. ‘Fincham's only making ready at the ancestral pile for when the nuptials take place. Told me so himself only t'other week. But you had better warn him, my dear Miss Grey, when he does return to town, that her Grace's brother-in-law is like to beat him to the altar. He's only got himself in the coils of some young widow. And loving every moment of it, if his latest letter to her Grace is to be believed. And he a confirmed bachelor!'

‘One moment, your Grace.' The duchess had been about to instruct her coachman to move on, but Georgiana had not hesitated to forestall her, for something the baronet had said had resulted in a tiny tinkle of alarm resounding in her head. ‘Sir Willoughby, when precisely did Lord Fincham inform you of his intention to leave town? Was it yesterday, when he received news of some occurrence at Fincham Park?'

‘Oh, no, no, no,' he answered, his thin brows drawing together. ‘Not heard anything about that. Haven't spoken to him for several days, as it happens. Not since
the night of the Radcliffe ball, now I come to think about it. So it must have been then… Yes, of course it was! I remember quite clearly poor Chard didn't want Fincham to leave town until he'd had a chance to recoup some of his losses. Fincham's been having the devil's own luck at the gaming tables of late, so I've been told. And poor Chard quite the opposite!'

‘Don't look so worried, child,' the duchess advised kindly, after observing Georgiana's deeply troubled expression. ‘Fincham will soon be back with you. And I know what it is to be deprived of one's jewels, even for a short time. But it is for the best. They'll be there, ready and waiting for you, when you enter Fincham's country home as its mistress.'

Georgiana didn't attempt to detain them further, and waited only for the carriage to move away before turning her mount and leaving the park, heading in the direction of Berkeley Square.

If the Dowager's groom was surprised by the route they were taking, he betrayed no sign of it. He even looked moderately pleased to be left in the mews to cast an eye over his lordship's fine cattle, the instant they had arrived, while Georgiana herself wasted no time in running her favourite butler to earth.

Her entry into the kitchen, by way of the door leading to the mews, naturally enough startled everyone present, not least of all Brindle, who hurriedly rose from the table, pulling on his jacket as he did so.

‘Why, Miss Grey! We—er—didn't expect to see you today. The master has already departed, I'm afraid. Left about an hour ago.'

‘Yes, I'm aware of that. He was seen. All the same, I'd like a word with you in the library, Brindle, if you'd be so kind.'

As always, where his future mistress was concerned, nothing was too much trouble, and he very willingly escorted her up the stairs and into the book-lined room. Georgiana waited only until he had closed the door before demanding to know just when his lordship had decided to pay a brief visit to Fincham Park.

‘Was it a sudden decision? Did he, perhaps, receive a communication that persuaded him to go?'

‘Oh, no, I do not believe so, Miss Grey. If my memory serves me correctly his lordship informed me of his intention to leave town several days ago.'

So, he'd deliberately misled her as to the reason behind his departure. Nothing untoward had occurred at his ancestral home. Georgiana began to pace the room, trying to recall in minute detail what Sir Willoughby had revealed not an hour since—his lordship openly revealing that he would be leaving town in order to take several items of value to Fincham Park, including the sapphire necklace.

As a further thought occurred to her she ceased her pacing. She had discovered the year before that there was a safe concealed behind a painting in his lordship's own bedchamber. A look in there might confirm her worst fears.

‘Apart from the silver that I've seen about the place, does his lordship keep all his other valuables in the safe? Is the sapphire-and-diamond set stored there, for instance?'

‘Oh, no, Miss Grey. His lordship has always taken great care of the family's heirlooms. The family jewels, for instance, are housed at the vault at his bank. He does keep a reasonable amount of money in the safe and one or two diamond pins for immediate use. And as for your sapphires, miss, as far as I'm aware they
are still in the locked drawer in his desk. He thought they would be more secure there. Should anyone chance to break in, which is most unlikely with Ronan in the house, it would be the safe that was the main target.'

Going across to the desk, Georgiana soon located the drawer in question. ‘Have you the key, Brindle?'

‘Oh, no, miss. Only his lordship has a key to that drawer. He keeps it on his fob-watch chain.' He gazed across at her in a fatherly way, a touch of concern in his eyes. ‘Is there something wrong, miss? You seem troubled about something. I believed his lordship must surely have mentioned to you his intention to leave town for a day or two, most especially as your own servant accompanied him.'

On discovering this alarm bells began to reverberate in earnest. ‘Digby…?' She was mistress of her emotions again in an instant. ‘Why, yes…yes, of course!' She seated herself at the desk, and took out a sheet of paper. ‘I'll just leave a short note for your master, which I trust you'll ensure he receives directly on his return. I'll not detain you further, Brindle.'

Left alone, Georgiana wrote just two words in large and bold print, which adequately expressed her feelings at that moment, before folding the sheet of paper and sealing it with a wafer. Then, leaning back in the comfortable leather chair, she gazed meditatively at the lock on that particular drawer.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder?'

Although not precisely basking in the sunshine of her approval at the present time, Digby years ago had been one of her favourite companions. Not only had he guarded her like some faithful dog, he had increased her knowledge of the world by teaching her things about which both her mother and grandfather had been sadly
ignorant. His own misspent youth had not been in vain; one of Digby's most valuable lessons had been how to pick a lock. He used to sit and time her until she had mastered the art in under one minute. After all these years could she now put that tuition to good use?

Removing one of the sturdier pins from her hair, she fashioned it into that long-remembered certain shape, and then inserted it into the lock. She could no longer achieve her objective in under a minute. All the same, it was not long afterwards when she detected that rewarding click, and opened the drawer to discover a velvet-covered square box. Moreover, its contents were intact.

So, he hadn't taken any valuables with him to Fincham Park, and possibly had never intended to do so. But he had revealed that that was his intention, and he hadn't said it for Sir Willoughby's benefit. Other things that had puzzled her suddenly became clear—his neglect of her had been for some purpose; he had been spending more time at the gaming tables, relieving Chard of his money. He had deliberately proposed she wear the sapphires at the Radcliffe ball in order to dangle temptation before the baron's eyes. Then he had declared his intention of going out of town in order to give Chard time to organise the robbery. Furthermore, his reason for keeping the jewels in his home was now abundantly clear also—he couldn't risk her donning them, when they were supposed to be on their way to Fincham Park.

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give way to emotion. All at once bringing Chard to justice was not important to her; Fincham's safety was everything, as was the well-being of those who had accompanied him. He was putting his life at risk for her, in order to assuage her thirst for revenge. She might be unable to
stop him now; he was a man of strong determination. But she refused to remain in the safety of the metropolis, while he was in peril. There wasn't a moment to lose!

Discovering Brindle in the act of placing a vase of flowers on a table in the hall, she didn't hesitate to inform him that she'd found that particular desk drawer open. ‘I can only assume his lordship forgot to lock it,' she lied without suffering a qualm. ‘I would suggest you place the sapphires in the safe, until your master's return.'

Understandably he was shocked. ‘I shall do so at once, Miss Grey.'

‘Before you disappear, Brindle,' she said, regaining his attention. ‘As his lordship left rather late, and it takes a full day to reach Fincham Park, I assume it is his intention to put up somewhere for the night and finish the journey in the morning.'

‘He always puts up at the White Hart, just west of Liphook, and then takes a short cut on a road that traverses Cheetham Wood.'

Oh, God! Georgiana groaned inwardly. He must surely have been planning this for some little time. He'd considered everything. A wood—the ideal terrain in which to conduct a robbery! Without a doubt, at some point during recent days his lordship would have made that fact known. If Chard had mobilised his forces, then the Viscount was deliberately heading into a trap of his own contrivance!

Again leaving the house by way of the door leading to the mews, Georgiana was about to remount her mare when a soft whinnying broke into her agonising reflections. His lordship's favourite mount had poked his head over the stall. Instinctively she acknowledged
the greeting by raising her hand to stroke the bay's fine head, and as she did so a seed of an idea, nourished by renewed hope, began to develop rapidly.

What she had viewed as her most besetting problem was how to reach his lordship in time. If by some chance she did manage to hire a carriage that afternoon, his lordship would still have several hours' start on her. She could never reach the White Hart by nightfall, and he would possibly have departed long before she arrived the following morning. Her mare, though admirable in most every way, was nowhere near strong enough to undertake such an arduous journey. But this powerful bay was, most especially if he was allowed to rest at frequent intervals. The only problem that she could foresee was that the bay, if memory served her correctly, had never experienced the side-saddle and might very likely react negatively if one was set on his back. So it wouldn't be wise for Miss Georgiana Grey to attempt to ride him. Her eyes narrowed. But there was nothing to stop Master George Green from doing so!

Smiling faintly, she disappeared into the large stable to converse with the young boy left in charge in the head groom's absence.

 

After enjoying a leisurely dinner, eaten in the secluded comfort of a private parlour, Lord Fincham went in search of his two courageous henchmen, both of whom were well aware of the dangers they might face in the morning. He ran them to earth in the tap and ordered them to remain seated as he approached their table.