The Kidnapped Bride (16 page)

Sarah did note one familiar face at the funeral. It was the strange man who had visited with Darcy in the library the afternoon before his murder. He stood to one side of the gathering at the churchyard and, later, seemed to have followed the small procession back to the house. Sarah’s curiosity was aroused by the way he seemed to peer at each of the guests in turn, with a particular interest in the men who accompanied Nicholas to the library.

At last, his lordship finished his business and came out to join the dwindling company. Dasher, on the lookout for him, promptly presented a glass of wine. “Thank you.” He turned to Sarah. “I hope your shoes are not pinching, my lady.”

There were lines etched around his eyes, and she thought he looked tired. But whether he was or not, she had no intention of quarreling with him. A night’s rest coupled with the solemnity of the day had convinced her that she had been wrong to take exception to his reproof the night before.

“The shoes are fine, my lord,” she said quietly. “And if they did pinch, ’twould be no more than I deserve for taking snuff at your remarks last night. I hope you will forgive me.”

“Very prettily said, Countess. Did you practice?”

Her eyes flew wide, and all her good intentions dissipated. “You are insufferable, my lord!”

“That’s better,” he approved. “I like the way your eyes hold fire when you are angry. They were a trifle insipid before.”

“Oh!” Suddenly aware that other eyes were turning toward them, Sarah managed to keep from stamping her foot, but she could no longer stay beside him without causing a scene. So she dropped a barely civil curtsy and moved away. When she looked back a moment later, he was talking to the man she had observed earlier.

They disappeared toward the library, and all the mourners had gone by the time Nicholas reappeared. Sarah was still out of charity with him, so although she was nearly consumed with curiosity, she refused to question him. No doubt the man had come to demand payment of some debt or other as the others had done, which would also explain his previous long meeting with Darcy and the latter subsequent argument with Beck on the subject of money. Or partially explain it, she tempered. Nonetheless, her ears pricked up when Colin asked the question uppermost in her mind.

“Who the devil was that queer nabs, Uncle Nick?”

Nicholas fixed his nephew with a pointed stare. “If you mean to ask the name of the person who was just with me in the library, I wish you will phrase your question in a more civilized manner.”

“Well, then,” said Colin, unabashed, “that is precisely what I wish to know. Who is he, if you please?”

“I am afraid I cannot imagine how that might be any concern of yours,” pronounced his uncle in quelling tones. “So if you will excuse me, I have matters that must be tended before dinner.” And he left the room, leaving at least two of the three remaining persons to stare at each other in no little consternation.

S
ARAH’S CURIOSITY WAS WELL
and truly aroused by Nicholas’s attitude toward the stranger. If he had simply provided the man’s name and added that their business was of a private nature, she would very likely have thought no more about it. But his abrupt dismissal of the subject piqued her curiosity and stimulated her imagination. The stranger had, after all, visited Darcy on that fatal day. At the least, he might be able to cast some light upon the mystery. At the worst, he might prove to be the murderer. The notion caught her unawares while she was walking back to Dower House to refresh herself before dinner. She stopped quite still in her tracks, turning the idea over in her mind, examining it from all sides.

“Sarah, love, whatever is the matter?” Miss Penistone inquired gently at her side.

Filled with an excitement completely out of keeping with the horror of her idea, Sarah turned with sparkling eyes, fully prepared to explain the matter. But something in that gentle, alert expression caused her to think twice before laying her accusation.

“Nothing, Penny,” she replied vaguely. “Just a silly notion, not at all suitable to the day.” Miss Penistone said nothing at all to this, and they soon arrived at the Dower House. Pleading a need to rest before dinner, Sarah soon found herself tucked up on the French seat in her own room, alone with her thoughts.

Who was the mysterious stranger? The question sounded as though it had sprung directly from Mrs. Radcliffe’s pen. Surely, such occurrences belonged in the world of her Udolpho and were out of place at Ash Park! Nevertheless, she was certain that her mysterious stranger could cast a light on Darcy’s death.

A sharp movement in the garden below caught her eye, and she turned to see young Colin waving frantically. He made other odd gestures once he had her attention, and she quickly came to realize that he had something of a private nature to impart to her.

Sarah did not doubt for a moment that Colin wanted to speak to her about the mystery, so she quickly slipped on her horrid shoes, smoothed her skirt, and hurried downstairs to join him in the front garden. He did not disappoint her.

“That man we saw,” he began urgently, “the queer one Uncle Nick wouldn’t speak of … he’s down at the stables. I saw him!”

“Are you sure, Colin? Maybe he left his horse there whilst he spoke to your uncle.”

“That was ages ago,” the boy scorned. “I’m sure Uncle Nick thinks he left. That fellow’s up to no good, my lady. Mark my words.”

Sarah smiled at his intensity. “Why did you come to me, Colin? Why not inform your uncle?”

“He would only say I was interfering in matters that are not my concern,” was the candid reply. “But I think there’s more to that fellow than meets the eye. And I’ll wager you agree with me.”

She couldn’t deny it. “Perhaps, if we were just to stroll down toward the stables,” she began tentatively.

He grinned. “I knew you were a right one, ma’am. We’ll soon see what he’s up to.”

But when they arrived at the sprawling stables, it was to find that their quarry had flown. Sarah stifled her disappointment and agreed that Colin should question one or two of the stableboys. She watched intently as he spoke first to one and then another; consequently, she did not hear the approaching footsteps behind her.

“What the devil are you doing down here?”

She spun around to face Nicholas. He was frowning, and she found herself without a plausible answer. “I … that is, we … we were just … some exercise before dinner!”

“Surely, you didn’t mean to go riding, my lady!” His gaze drifted from her shoulders to her feet. “You are hardly dressed for it. Or do you generally keep company with stableboys? I should have thought your tastes a trifle more elevated than that.”

Her cheeks burned at his tone, but Colin had heard his voice and now ambled toward them, speaking before her unruly tongue could betray her again. “Have you the time, Uncle Nick? We don’t want to miss dinner.”

With a sharp look at the boy and a rather rueful one at Sarah, Nicholas obligingly drew out his watch and flicked open the gold case. “You have approximately twenty minutes to make yourself presentable. Do you make it a habit to drag your lady friends along when you visit the stables?”

Colin met his gaze unblinkingly. “Do you not like her being here, sir? If so, I must apologize, for it is indeed my fault. I wanted to ask Jem about having one of my horses reshod with—lighter shoes, and it seemed a good time. Her ladyship and I were walking when the notion struck me, and she said she wouldn’t mind a stroll to the stables.” He paused, eyeing his uncle carefully. “If you do not care for it, I shan’t bring her again.”

Nicholas glanced again at Sarah, who was exerting iron control over herself. But if her color was a trifle high, he no doubt put it down to his earlier words and did not hesitate to apologize.

“I should not have said what I did, Countess. I didn’t realize Colin was with you, but I should have known you would not have come here unattended. I beg your pardon.” His tone was stiff, and he turned away immediately, striding off toward the house.

She looked at Colin, who was grinning unabashedly, and dissolved into laughter. “Of all the plumpers!” she exclaimed when she could draw a breath. “How did you dare to offer him such a tale! And now you will have to have one of your horses reshod besides!”

The boy shrugged. “It was the first thing I could think of when I saw he didn’t like you being here. Do you suppose it’s on account of thinking you were here alone or because he didn’t want you finding out about Jeremy Oakes?”

“Jeremy Oakes?”

Colin nodded. “Our mysterious stranger. Jem told me his name. Said he asked about Tom and Beck, how long they’d been here, if they were around when the old earl was done in. Asked a lot of silly stuff, Jem said. Did we have any priest holes and such? Like he was looking for treasure or something, he said.”

“Treasure!”

Colin nodded again with a musing frown. “That’s what he said. You don’t suppose there could be a buried treasure around here somewhere, and Cousin Darcy found it and got murdered for it, do you?”

Sarah stared at him. Buried treasure on Finchley Common seemed utterly ludicrous, but just as flat denial reached her lips, she remembered the contradiction of Darcy’s attire and London life style to his supposed poverty. Surely, he must have had some means of supporting himself. His clothes were the height of fashion, and despite the creditors at the funeral, she didn’t think he had been very deeply in debt, or his reputation would have been quite different when she met him. But wherever the money came from, it was clear he hadn’t spent much of it here, so he must have wanted his possession of it kept secret from the local people.

“Lots of families hid valuables during the Cromwellian period,” Colin said thoughtfully, breaking into her thoughts. “Perhaps our family treasure was never recovered, and Cousin Darcy found it.”

“But I should think he would, have told everyone he could tell!” Sarah protested.

“Not if he was afraid he might have to share it or prove his claim to it,” Colin said. “That would have cost a great deal of money. Better to keep mum and have it all to himself.”

It was farfetched, but Sarah could believe that Darcy might have been devious enough to have kept such a matter to himself. “How would your Jeremy Oakes have discovered about the treasure?” she asked.

“He’s hardly
my
Jeremy Oakes,” Colin chuckled. “I don’t know how, but he did, and it’s my belief he’s the murderer. Killed Cousin Darcy and then couldn’t find the lolly. So now he’s skulking about.”

“What did he learn from the stable boys? Did they tell you?”

“Not much. They’re all new, you know. Couldn’t tell him a thing, except that Beck left in a snit.” He paused, thinking. “Jem also seemed to think that Oakes had Uncle Nick’s permission to be here, but I don’t see how that could be.” He didn’t seem to expect Sarah to respond, and she was grateful, for her mind was suddenly struggling with a thought that had sprung up totally unbidden. “Why do you suppose Uncle Nick didn’t want you down here?” Colin asked, his words following her own train of thought so nearly that she almost answered him with that dreadful, encroaching idea.

Taking herself forcibly in hand, Sarah replied carelessly, “Oh, I expect, as you said before, that it was because he thought I had come alone. He’s a rare stickler for propriety.”

“Don’t I know it!” Colin laughed.

“Then how did you dare to tell him such a whisker?” she demanded, glad enough to change the course of her own thoughts.

“Oh, that one was nothing,” he scoffed. “I can tell much better ones if necessary. I’ve had a good deal of practice.”

“Colin! How can you be casual about such a thing? Surely, you cannot boast about telling falsehoods!” She stared at the boy, shocked at such a possibility.

“Are you going to pretend you’ve never told a whopper?” Colin teased. Sarah opened her mouth to deny it before she remembered one or two episodes that would not bear repeating. He read the answer in her expression. “Just as I thought! I do not tell any that would hurt anyone else. Mostly, I tell them to save my own skin. The masters at my school are rather strict, you know.”

“I have heard it said,” she admitted. “But do you tell them often, Colin? I should think it would go much worse for you when you are caught out.”

“Ah, but I am never so foolish as to get caught,” he replied simply. “When there is no hope for it, I take the consequences. But my imagination, thankfully, is rather fertile,” he added with a twinkling look.

“I have a feeling,” she advised wryly, “that it would be wise to avoid telling falsehoods to your uncle. He has an uncanny way of reading one’s very thoughts.”

Colin chuckled. “I know. I very rarely try it on with him, but today it was to protect us both. I’ve a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate our investigation of Mr. Jeremy Oakes.”

They fell silent after that and soon parted company to prepare for dinner. Sarah’s thoughts were such that she felt an urgent need for solitude. Why would Nicholas dislike their discovering more about the ubiquitous Mr. Oakes? Could he possibly know something about the man that he did not wish them—or more particularly, Sarah herself—to know? Could Oakes have had something to do with Darcy’s death? Was he, in fact, the murderer? And if he was the murderer, did Nicholas know it? Had Nicholas perhaps even …

But here she forced herself to stop, appalled at the course her thoughts were taking. She could not—would not—think such a thing of him. She turned her thoughts instead to the possibility of treasure. That was almost exciting. She had a brief vision of herself and Colin discovering buried treasure in the garden or perhaps in the thick woods near the main house. Chuckling to herself now, she pushed open the door to her own bedchamber.

“Ah, here you are at last, love,” Miss Penistone said calmly, while in the same instant Lizzie demanded in strong Irish tones to know where in the name of the blessed Saint Patrick her ladyship had taken herself.

“For how I can be doin’ your hair when you’re nowhere to be found, I haven’t a notion!” she declared roundly. “Now, sit ye down, your ladyship, for we’ve little enough time, and you’ve been out and about in that wind, I see.”