Reluctant Bride (18 page)

“I hope the fellow is not a Captain Sharp,” Glandower said. “My friends will not thank me for bringing him down on their heads if it proves to be the case. Ah, well, he won’t skin
me
of much. You can’t get blood from a stone.”

We entered the hotel, had wine and the Maid of Honour cheesecakes, which are a necessary treat for all visitors, by legend having been invented by the ladies in waiting to George II when he was Prince of Wales. I was then at liberty to express myself sated and fatigued, and was taken back to the Clarendon.

Edmund, Maisie and Mitzi awaited me in our hired chamber. “Have you had a terribly dull afternoon, Auntie?” I asked.

“Not so bad as yourself, having to put up with that grinner,” she replied.

“He didn’t do much grinning. Did Edmund tell you it is set for tonight?”

“I told her,” he said. “I am going to the lobby now to see if he left off the address he promised.”

He was soon back, holding a folded sheet of paper in his fingers. “A Mr. Aberdeen at Reddish’s Hotel is to be our host. I was hoping the letter would read Downing Street. I was also hoping for a two-handed game. I hope this is not going to be a complete waste of time. What did you make of his attitude this afternoon, Lizzie?”

“Nothing. I know he is short of funds, and wants money for a particular reason.

“What reason?” Maisie asked instantly, with the utmost suspicion in her green eyes.

“To get married. He is looking for work. I cannot imagine why he doesn’t just tell Uncle.”

“He’s bamming you,” was Auntie’s reply. There was no point trying to convince her otherwise. Her dislike of Glandower was too deep-rooted.

“Let’s go,” Edmund suggested, scooping a wriggling Mitzi into his arms.

“Did you get to the bank?” I asked him.

He patted his pocket and nodded. We returned to Belgrave Square and another meal of underdone beef, roasted this time, and enhanced with a few vegetables in honor of my aunt and myself’. Edmund left us early, stating his intention of looking over the place before joining the game. I queried his meaning.

“I’ll make some discreet inquiries in the taproom about this Mr. Aberdeen before I get involved in any deep gambling. I wish we were going to Downing Street. I’m afraid the grinner won’t carry the necklace on him. I was hoping he would put it up for collateral.”

“Are you sure you can
win?”
Maisie asked.

“If the game is straight, I am not worried. If the fellow is a Greek, I shall recall an urgent appointment and leave, before I am thoroughly fleeced. I won’t have any trouble recognizing a shaved card at least.”

“We’ll wait up for you,” I said.

“Don’t. God knows how late I will be out.”

“I forgot it is a hotel you are going to.” Hotels, of course, were his most favored spot for encountering stray females.

He leveled a dark eye at me and shook his head. “I limit myself to one dissipation a night.”

“What do you mean?” Maisie asked.

“He means he won’t drink too much, Auntie.”

“You’ll need a clear head,” she said, satisfied with this explanation.

Edmund forgot to draw out his watch before he hastened out of the room, but he did take the precaution of checking the head-and-shoulders clock on the mantel piece, and said it was five minutes slow.

“There is a new thing called a calendar, Edmund. Some people go by the day, instead of the minute,” I mentioned.

“Go to bed,” was his answer.

Chapter 14

My
aunt and I passed a pleasant evening reading the city newspapers. I remembered Edmund’s suggestion that we remain a few days after he got back my necklace. I could see there were many avenues of enjoyment open to visitors, and was not reluctant to indulge in them. At about ten-thirty, Auntie decided to retire. I said I would wait up a little longer.

Once alone, I found myself thinking of Glandower, and feeling once more a sympathy for him in his plight. He spoke so hotly and so admiringly of his Miss Millington of the Titian curls, it was difficult to believe he had embarked on a life of crime when he hoped to win her. Surely this was not the act of a young man genuinely in love. Marriage to the right girl would be the very thing for him. It would give him something to live and work for, and, I hoped, cure him of his pernicious gambling habit too. Weston would certainly welcome him at Rusholme.

I had very nearly decided to go to Glandower after the affair of the necklace was settled and talk him around to righteousness. In order to straighten out his life, it would also be necessary to talk Edmund out of going to Bow Street. He would never do it without consulting me, as he had more than once mentioned the desirability of keeping the thing mum for Weston Braden’s sake.

The head-and-shoulders clock on the mantelpiece wheezed eleven times, telling me it was time to give up my vigil and go to bed. As I arose to shake out my skirt, there was a sound at the front door. Within seconds, Edmund stepped into the saloon, his shoulders drooping. His languid gait made it unnecessary for me to ask how the card game had gone.

“Did he fleece you completely?” I asked fearfully.

“Nope, Aberdeen did. A wily little Scots fellow.”

“A Greek?”

“If he had the cards fuzzed, I couldn’t detect it. I think he might have had a few aces up his sleeve, but was so adroit I couldn’t catch him at it. I didn’t figure it was worth a duel to find out if he was cheating. He didn’t quite bankrupt me. I left early.”

“Was Glandower there?”

“Yes, he lost too. We left early together. I have been at Downing Street with him the past half hour. He doesn’t seem such a bad fellow really. You don’t suppose we could be wrong about him?”

“Maybe Greenie did it all by himself. No, he couldn’t have though. It was Glandower who took the necklace to that Mr. Anthony fellow.”

“No, it was only someone who bears the same general description as Glandower. We don’t actually
know
it was he.”

He took up the carafe of wine and two glasses, poured out some claret, then sat beside me on the sofa. “You have been holding out on me, Lizzie. You didn’t tell me about you and Cummings. Why not?”

“What?” I asked. “What was there to tell?”

“When you mentioned his desire to marry, you forgot to say it is
you
he hopes to wed.”

“You have got this story dreadfully mixed up.”

“I think not. It has been a wish of Weston’s for some time that you two make a match of it.”

“I never heard of such a thing! Why, I hardly
know
the boy.”

“He speaks highly of
you.”

“It is a Miss Millington he wants to marry. She has Titian curls and a pretty nose, but unfortunately no money. That is the only item she has in common with me.”

“He didn’t mention any Miss Millington. He said his uncle would like him to offer for you. I wonder if that is why the poor boy is so bedeviled?”

“Of course it is! Oh, why did he not tell me so? I could have eased his mind in a minute. I could have told him I had no intention of marrying him, and then he could tell Weston, and have a clean slate. That is why he won’t go home, why he thinks Uncle would not welcome him and his bride. He is very foolish.”

“He's still wet behind the ears.”

“I am going to tell him what you said about Weston wanting to adopt him. I know Uncle would be happy to see him settle down, and it
would
settle him, if he had a wife.”

“It would certainly help. Your uncle now believes you are to marry me in any case, so he can hardly push for you to marry Glandower.”

At this point, we stopped talking and exchanged a guilty look. “How does it come we are worrying about
him,
when he stole your necklace?” Edmund asked. “What we ought to be discussing is how we are to get it back. I begin to think the boy has conned us very thoroughly.”

“How do we prove it?” I asked, setting my chin in my hands to aid concentration.

“He's offered the necklace to Mr. Anthony, and is afraid to complete the deal, as we have been prating to him of Bow Street. I wonder if we couldn’t go back to that shop, and hint to the dealer . . .” He came to a stop. “No, he would not arrange a private transaction for us. That cuts out
his
profit.”

“You could offer him a finder’s fee—some small percent or bonus, if he would send Baron Czarnkow to you. Glandower will be happy to unload the necklace privately, I fancy. I sort of hate to do it to him . . .”

“It can all be kept within the family circle. We’ll give him a good bear-garden jaw, scare the living hades out of him. The important thing is to get the matter settled up quickly. I can’t stay away from home forever.”

I saw the London holiday slipping away from me. “Yes,” I agreed quietly.

We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our wine. “Cummings didn’t notice your engagement ring?” he asked suddenly, looking at my left hand.

“No, but I cannot get it off. I’ll try soap and water tonight.”

He nodded, displaying no particular interest. “Hungry?” he asked.

“No, are you?”

“No. We might as well turn in. We can’t do any more tonight. I’ll go back to the jeweler tomorrow and see if he is willing to send Baron Czarnkow to me. Glandower has no reason to be familiar with this address. I’ll have the Baron come here. What name shall I use this time?”

“You might as well be Sir Edmund Blount. He will know it before long, but at the moment, the name means nothing to him.”

“That’s true. I wish I could rid myself of this pity for the demmed jackanapes,” he said, arising.

We extinguished the saloon lamps and went to the hallway, still lit. “The butler will take care of locking up,” he told me. “Do you want to come to the jeweler’s shop with me tomorrow?” he asked, as we mounted the stairs.

“Yes. Edmund—what if Glandower doesn’t go along with this plan? I mean, what if he is not interested in selling the necklace privately?”

He hunched his shoulders. “We shall see.”

“You
do
believe Glandower is Baron Czarnkow, don’t you?”

“He probably is. I was just pointing out the possibility we have erred on that point, as we erred on so many others along the way.”

“I never thought Weston Braden was guilty, not for a moment.”

“Somebody
is guilty, and by God somebody is going to pay for the trouble we have been to.”

“We cannot remain on indefinitely spending your money in this fruitless way.”

“Looks as though we’ll just have to go to Cummings and lay our cards on the table. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be as relieved as can be to spill the whole story.”

“I hope he doesn’t break down and cry. I hate to see a grown man cry.”

“He’s hardly more than a boy. Younger than Willie.”

“I cannot get over Uncle Weston thinking I would marry him.”

As we had reached my door, we stopped. “It certainly set me back on my heels to hear it. Good thing you weren’t there, as you hate to see a grown man cry.”

He tapped my chin twice with his finger. “It would disturb you that much to see me abandon my principle of misogamy, would it?” I asked.

“Absolutely! We’re in this principle together, till death us do part. What God has created asunder, let no man join together. Aren’t we lucky we found each other? I don’t think you appreciate me. Plenty of gents in my position would be forming honorable intentions by now.” With a disparaging smile, he lounged off down the hall, cleaving to his principles with an unflattering tenacity.

I entered my room and looked at my watch, for no particular reason but that I saw Edmund do it so often. It was eleven-thirty-two.

Chapter 15

“It’s time we put that leg of yours back to work, Maisie,” Sir Edmund said as we sat in the morning over breakfast. “Come with us.” We had been discussing his lack of success the night before, and the new plan devised.

“It’s a decent day. I’ll be happy to tag along,” she agreed. “I won’t tackle any long-distance walking, but I can limp to the carriage at least.”

Once we reached the shops, Edmund went alone to speak to the jeweler, while I remained behind with Auntie. He was gone for about ten minutes. When he returned, he was smiling. A smile was attractive to him; I cannot imagine why he used one so seldom.

“Cummings hadn’t been back to the shop, but the fellow has his address. Not his Downing Street one, but a hotel, where Cummings must have made some arrangement to pick up messages. Mr. Anthony agreed to send a note with my message. If the Baron is interested in a private sale, he will be in touch with me. I expect to see him today or tomorrow.”

“How much is it going to cost you?” was my first concern.

“Plenty,” he replied, his smile vanishing.

“Add another fifty guineas to our bill,” I advised my aunt.

“Twenty-five,” Blount corrected.

“A mere bagatelle. We’ll have you paid off in no time. Ten years at the outside.”

“It’s not funny,” Maisie said, frowning. “How
are
we to pay all our bills?”

“It has been understood from the outset I am at fault in the matter, and am to stand buff,” Edmund said, disliking to discuss it, to judge by his repressive expression.

“Mercy, I didn’t mean our bills to
you!”
she exclaimed.
“You
are the least of our worries. It is the mortgage I spoke of. But Weston will likely take the necklace after all, once we get it back. It was only the botched thing Bartlett made that he disliked. Will thirty-five hundred cover our expenses, Lizzie?”

It was my turn for a damping frown. “Yes, we will be on easy street,” I lied glibly. We would be out of the woods, no more.

Edmund looked out the window, pretending to be deaf, like a proper gentleman. When we stopped talking, he turned back to us but changed the subject. “Let us take your aunt for a spin in the park,” he suggested. “We won’t see Glandower at Belgrave Square for hours, if he comes today at all.”

“Yes, she is overdue for some amusement, poor dear.’’

“Don’t start pitying me,” she scolded. “We never have any entertainment at home, Lizzie, and didn’t expect any on this trip either.”