The Accidental Courtesan (30 page)

“Sleep,” he whispered softly, and his hand slid over the top of her damp head. “The wager can wait.”

It was the last Noelle heard and felt before she drifted into deep slumber.

 

G
avin waited until she was breathing softly in sleep before leaving her to rest. He went downstairs to ask Mrs. Hill to fix a bowl of broth for Noelle, then found Crawford sprawled in a chair in the small library. The man had his bad leg stretched out on a footstool and held a tumbler of something Gavin assumed was cheap whiskey.

“Is the Lady recovering from her ordeal?” the investigator asked, taking a sip from his glass. Oddly, the sparsely furnished house and inexpensive spirits didn't quite fit what Gavin knew of the investigator. Crawford had to be a man of some wealth. He was well paid for his services, and Gavin wondered if he had another place he called home when he wasn't working in London, a hideout away from the dangerous men he crossed during his cases.

That was likely the case. This town house was almost unlivable, as spartan as it was. Not the sort of place one would consider a home. Crawford had given up this town house for Noelle's use without hesitation. Clearly he wasn't overly attached to the place.

Gavin nodded. “She has awakened and is speaking coherently. I am confident she's suffered no lasting ill effects from the injury.” He went to the sideboard and poured a glass of the spirit for himself, and discovered it was watered-down wine. He grimaced.

“Remind me to send you a case of the good stuff.” He swallowed the rest of his drink and poured another. “This swill isn't fit to wash the windows with.”

Crawford grinned. “The ladies don't seem to mind.”

Dropping into the other chair, Gavin grinned. He liked the man. He wondered what sort of trouble they could get into, given the proper time and setting. “Then you aren't spending time with the right sort of ladies.”

Crawford peered over the rim of his glass. “With what you're paying me, I'll soon be able to consort with the right sort.” He looked around the sparse room. “And be able to purchase some furnishings, too.”

Gavin snorted. “I think your tastes run much higher than this drab den.” He scanned the room. “But you can keep your secrets. Every man is entitled to keep some part of his life tucked away from prying eyes.” As long as he found the information Gavin needed, Crawford was free to do what he wished with his time and money.

“Has our friend broken his silence and given you what we seek?” Gavin asked, sobering. He turned the glass on the arm of the chair and braced himself for the report.

Slowly, Crawford nodded, his smile turning into an evil grin. “He did give new information, though he does not know the name of the woman who hired him. The extent of their contact was a brief glimpse of her face when the maid climbed from a coach to pay him a deposit for his services. She clearly works for the second woman and was placed in Bliss's household. He, too, knows the maid only as Freda. I assume that isn't her true name.”

“There's a second woman?” Gavin sat upright in the chair, his eyes hard on Crawford. Had he heard this news incorrectly ? “The person behind this case is a woman?”

Never during the last week had he suspected the mastermind behind the theft of the necklace was female. He expected, wrongly, that the master thief would be male. This clearly turned the case on end and sent it in a new direction. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The culprit list was expanding. It was quite possible that the necklace had been only part of a grander operation. But how did Bliss figure into all this?

“I suspected the maid wasn't capable of setting the plot into motion alone but thought a man was certainly handling the puppet strings,” Gavin said. “This is an interesting development. Could Bliss's maid be traveling from house to house, under the guise of a servant, to steal valua bles? Mistresses often get expensive gifts.”

Crawford stood and walked to the bookshelf. “It is possible. A woman wouldn't arouse suspicion in thefts as much as a man would.” He picked up a sheet of parchment and examined it closely for a few seconds. “The footpad believes the woman he glimpsed is a Lady of means, and he managed to give a fairly apt description.”

“A Lady?”

Crawford moved over to Gavin and held out the sheet. “Just because she has wealth does not mean she is an aristocrat. Stolen jewels can buy nice clothes and a fancy coach.”

To Gavin's surprise, a face was sketched on the parchment in ink, a very nice likeness of a woman with pretty features. There was something familiar about her, but there wasn't enough detail in the rendering to bring the owner of the face to the front of his mind. Still, it was well done by an artist of talent.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, and lifted the page into better light. He ran his gaze over her nose, her cheekbones, the cut of her brow; memorizing every curve. If she was a woman of society, he intended to watch out for her.

“A Lady with whom I am acquainted uses the artist to sketch suitors for her matchmaking services.” Crawford leaned to look at the page. “I know she is pleased with his work, so I asked for his help. The footpad described the face as he remembered it, and the artist made the sketch. You will find his payment on your bill.”

Gavin smiled slowly, stood, and felt confident for the first time since he had stumbled into this pit of mire that they might actually solve this case.

“Well done, my good man.” Gavin stood and clapped Crawford on the shoulder. He wanted to get back to Noelle. She was recovering well, but he still had to be vigilant lest she take a downward turn. Besides, he'd developed a habit of watching her sleep. “Get this concluded by the end of the week and I'll triple your fee.”

The older man grinned. “I shall do my best.”

After Crawford left, Gavin jerked open the drapes and took a few minutes to carefully study the sketch. He realized rather quickly that there
was
indeed something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite put his mind around how he knew her.

She looked very much like Lady Crowley, a former lover of Charles. Could she be behind the necklace caper? Their arrangement had ended unhappily.

If the likeness was even close to correct, she didn't have the bluntness to her features of the lower classes. The footpad was correct; she was a Lady, or could pass as one with the right trappings. And in order to pay someone to coerce Bliss to steal the necklace, and a trio of thugs to steal it back, she had to have some wealth.

The question, then, was why?

What could have caused this woman to set into motion a theft, an attack on him, and Noelle's kidnapping? He knew women could easily be as devious as men, but their reasons usually came down to money or jealousy.

If she was wealthy in her own right, he could set aside that reason. If she was indeed a woman scorned, certainly that would explain much. It would be easier to accept that the necklace had been stolen by a woman out to punish Charles rather than by a random band of thieves. He peered into the face. The woman also somewhat resembled a mistress Charles had had before Bliss.
Maria
, he thought. He'd seen several of Charles's former lovers during his brief time in London. His cousin liked to boast about women with whom he'd once shared a bed. And Charles certainly had a look he favored. That relationship with Maria had ended on a sour note with breakable objects being thrown at Charles's head.

And what of the wealthy widow his cousin had dallied with before Maria? She'd nearly been killed after throwing herself in front of his moving coach after he'd explained to her that their association had come to an end. Although Gavin had never seen her, she could be added to the list of suspects.

Since the necklace belonged to Charles, the seeds of the plot had to return to him. He'd had a string of lovers over the years, many not at all pleased to be set aside for a younger or lovelier new mistress. Any one of them could be behind the theft.

Gavin frowned. His cousin certainly had a talent for picking the wrong mistresses.

The leader of the thieves had to be someone who knew by now that they were cousins, or at least friends, and that Gavin was staying in Charles's town house. Certainly the initial mix-up couldn't last forever? But why come after him? Had the woman known there was a possibility he might have ended up with the necklace? If so, then someone was probably watching the town house the night Noelle climbed the trellis. She had stumbled across danger that evening, and neither of them had known it was lurking there in the dark.

She was lucky she wasn't taken then. No one but a silly courtesan would have known she was missing. Bliss would never have called for help. To do so might have caused her arrest, and Gavin couldn't imagine the chit sacrificing her hide for Noelle.

He carefully scanned the sketch one last time, as all the questions worked to come together in his mind, to match with answers. Nothing up to this point made sense, but one thing was certain: The sketch gave him confidence.

He had to give Crawford a list of rejected mistresses, as many as he could recall from Charles's indiscreet tales, so they could be eliminated one at a time.

Gavin grinned. The clues were quickly adding up.

G
avin returned to the bedroom with the sketch at almost the same time Martha returned to the house, Eva on her heels, to the excitement of learning Noelle had awakened from her stupor and was recovering. He allowed a few minutes for a happy reunion, then ushered the maid into the hallway. Low-voiced conversation followed after Martha left the three of them alone. Eva had no interest in the mysterious woman, only in Noelle, and the sketch was temporarily set aside.

Reprimand came quickly when the duchess discovered Noelle was clean and that Gavin had bathed her. Then Her Grace had shooed him out and made him wait in the parlor, cooling his heels, while she helped Noelle dress.

“Mister Blackwell has certainly become an intimate friend,” Eva said, annoyed. “I don't suppose he managed to wash you with his eyes closed?”

Noelle flushed. “He was a proper gentleman.”

Eva made a disbelieving snort. “Improper, perhaps.”

“Don't lecture,” Noelle said quickly, before Eva could work up an argument about her behavior with Gavin. She was beyond behaving herself. “I know what I'm doing.”

Her sister looked ready to argue but held her tongue. “We can discuss this later, when you have fully recovered.”

Noelle sighed resolutely, still too weak to argue. “If we must.”

They joined Gavin an hour later.

Well, actually they brushed past him, pulled on capes, and Eva dragged Noelle out the door with a scowl on her pretty duchess face. She wasn't about to leave Noelle alone in the town house with Gavin one minute longer. Or so she said. There was no telling what kinds of mischief he'd get Noelle into.

Gavin didn't put up a fuss as he joined the three women in the coach for the ride to Collingwood House.

 

O
nce Noelle was settled in Eva's expansive cream and green drawing room, the women finally got to the business of examining the sketch.

“Who is she?” Noelle asked from her place on the settee, the sketched face staring at her. For a woman capable of evil, this stranger was without fangs or a warty nose below hairy black brows. Her pretty face could be any face Noelle passed on the street. “I don't recognize her.”

“That's what I'm hoping to find out,” Gavin replied. “So far we have come up with nothing,” he added grimly, and peered at Nicholas. “If the four of us do not know her, it's possible she isn't a noblewoman, as we thought, but perhaps a courtesan who felt wronged by my cousin.”

“This is becoming a muddle,” Noelle said. “There are so many ways to look at this puzzle. Is there a band of thieves, one errant maid, a scorned lover, or an unhappy courtesan behind this crime? Which path do we choose?”

“A courtesan knows the rules of arrangements,” Nicholas said. “I find it difficult to believe one would turn on the earl because he ended their association. If she is skilled and beautiful, she would have no problem procuring . . .” He paused and glanced briefly at Eva and Noelle. This wasn't a topic one discussed in front of a wife and sister-in-law. “Another lover.”

Noelle nodded. “However, we cannot rule that out. Men see such arrangements as business. Still, one shares oneself in an intimate manner, so there is the chance emotions can be engaged. It's possible one of the women fancied herself in love.”

The two men looked at her like she was an oddity. Clearly the opinion was hers alone.

“I shall keep watch for her,” Eva said, distracted, giving only a cursory glance at the sketch. She fluttered around Noelle like a bird with her chick. “If she turns up at the school, I shall send for you immediately.”