The Marriage Trap (27 page)

She looked at Jack down the length of the table. He had arrived home with only minutes to spare before dinner was served, so there hadn't been the opportunity to tell him what a muddle she had made of things. She'd turned off the housekeeper. The furniture in the blue room had been moved out. In one week from today, they were to hold a reception. She hadn't even asked his permission.

She must have been out of her mind.

Robbie seemed to sense her nervousness and did his part to break the ice that gripped the table. “You have a very fine library,” he said, looking at Jack. “Don't you agree, Milton?”

“Very fine,” agreed Milton. He paused, rallied, and went on, “I'm finding a number of books to help me with my, um, paper.”

There followed another long pause, then Caro asked Milton the subject of his paper.

“It's on Greek particles,” he said. “No one really understands their significance.”

“Some of us,” said Caro lightly, “don't even know what they are.”

Her jest was met with feeble laughter. Ellie sent her a look of heartfelt gratitude for making the effort to keep the conversation going. When Caro responded with a nod and a smile, Ellie almost fell off her chair.

Robbie spoke next, but this time more naturally. “Don't ask Milton to explain. You have to be brilliant to understand him. He doesn't have to study like us lesser mortals. I showed him my father's notes on particles and there wasn't a thing there he didn't already know.”

“Robbie, please,” said Milton in a strained tone.

Jack said, “I'm impressed. Ellie's father was a noted scholar. Tell me, Mr. Milton, what do you intend to do with your education?”

“Stay on at the university as a teacher, I suppose. It's a tradition in my family.”

“He means,” said Robbie, “as a professor. It won't be long before he becomes a master or a don.”

Frances dabbed her lips with her napkin. “That seems rather tedious. I mean, spending one's youth learning, only to spend the rest of one's life teaching what one learned in one's youth.”

“Oh, it is tedious,” agreed Milton. “We scholars are not very interesting unless we converse with other scholars.” He flashed Ellie a surreptitious smile.

After that, conversation became natural and dwindled only when footmen came forward to remove their soup plates. Ellie knew this harmony couldn't last. Sooner or later, Frances would reveal all. Everyone at that table knew it, except for Jack. If only she'd had time to talk to him alone. Since she hadn't, she had to take the initiative or hang her head like the coward she was.

“Jack.” She took a moment to clear her throat. “I've decided to hold a reception, an informal affair, for our friends and family. Do you mind?”

The question seemed to surprise him. “Of course I don't mind. I'd say it's about time you started to show off that new wardrobe you ordered from Madame Clothilde's. By all means, let's have a party.”

“I think it's a splendid idea,” said the dowager. “And if I can be of assistance, you have only to ask, Ellie.”

She shot the dowager a grateful smile. They were allies.

“What's the date of this party?” asked Jack.

“A week today,” Ellie responded, but so indistinctly that she had to repeat it. “I know it's short notice, but if we leave it much longer, we'll be in the height of the season, and that's Caro's time. I don't want her to give up anything on my account.”

“Nonsense,” declared the dowager. “Caro is not so small-minded, are you, my dear?”

Caro had no option except to say that of course she wasn't small-minded.

“The more parties the merrier,” stated the dowager. “In my opinion, this house is much too dull. Musicales and literary gatherings are all right in their way, but I like to see young people about me. I hope there will be dancing at your party, Ellie? It always makes things so much livelier.”

She'd come to the sticking point, where she had to mention that she'd turned off the housekeeper. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. She opened her mouth, but Frances got there before her.

With a toss of her golden curls, she said in her sweetly husky way, “I hardly think we can hold a party a week from now without Mrs. Leach to direct things.”

She looked at Jack, but he apparently had lost interest in the conversation and was conversing with Robbie.

Frances raised her voice and the sweetness was replaced by something more strident. “You must trust my judgment, Ellie. You have no experience in managing a household of this size. A housekeeper's services are indispensable. Who will supervise all the housemaids, order the supplies, stock the storeroom, the stillroom, and see to the table linens? Who will make the preserves, the cream syllabubs, the cakes, and sugar decorations? I think you were too hasty when you turned off the housekeeper. And really, she had given excellent service up to this point.”

Ellie's head was reeling. She had no idea a housekeeper's job was so demanding.

Frances looked at Jack and frowned. He was still in conversation with Robbie. “Jack,” she said, bringing his attention to herself. “What do you think?”

His expression was curiously blank. “I'm sorry,” he said, “I was only half listening. We are short a housekeeper, I take it?”

Frances nodded. “Ellie turned off Mrs. Leach when we were all out visiting.”

“In that case,” he said, shrugging helplessly, “she had better find another housekeeper as soon as she can.”

It was a victory of sorts, thought Ellie, but it left her feeling less than satisfied. She was forcing people to take sides, and that's not what she wanted. She wanted Frances to be happy . . . but preferably on some distant planet where their paths would never cross.

She felt sorry for Caro. Her loyalties were divided. She wanted to please Jack by liking his wife, but she was sincerely attached to Frances. For Caro's sake, she would be civil to the woman, even if it choked her.

She was dressed for bed, brushing her hair, when Jack entered her chamber. Like her, he was wearing a warm, woolen dressing robe, but unlike her he was naked beneath it. The things one learned about men after marriage were truly shocking.

She put her brush on the dressing table and turned on the stool to face him. “You fraud,” she said playfully, “pretending to be so innocent at the dinner table. You knew I'd turned off the housekeeper and had got myself in a pickle. I suppose Wigan told you.”

“You couldn't be more wrong. I knew nothing, but as soon as I sat down, I sensed the charged atmosphere. Everyone seemed to be on tenterhooks, except Frances. I guessed it would be another episode like Alice, so I tried to keep out of it. I knew you could handle Frances without any help from me.”

She reached up and pulled his head down for a long, lascivious kiss. Smiling into his eyes, she said, “You're not as dull-witted as I thought you were.”

He took her hands and pulled her to the bed. They were sitting side by side. “Now, do you want to tell me about it?”

She told him most of it, but condensed the housekeeper's comments into one essential fact, that Mrs. Leach had insulted her in such a way that it was impossible to keep her on. A muscle in his jaw clenched, but he heard her out in silence.

Finally, she said, “It's not such a disaster as I thought it was. I had a word with Wigan before I came upstairs and he says that Webster would jump at the chance of taking over Mrs. Leach's position, at least until we find someone to replace her.” She cocked her head. “What is it, Jack? You look . . . distracted.”

He picked up her hand and pressed a quick kiss to her wrist. “It's hard to concentrate on problems with the domestics when I'm sitting on the bed with my beautiful bride.”

She knew him better than that. “No, seriously, Jack. Something has happened and you're afraid to tell me. Is it Alice? I thought she was happy with Mrs. Mann.”

“It's not Alice.” He got up and began to prowl aimlessly around the room. “I met with Brand today. I may have told you that he is doing a little investigation on my behalf?”

“I understood you had decided not to go on with the investigation. What's the point?”

“The point is to make sure that Robbie's name is cleared. What if the dresser and her lover are found and have an unshakable alibi? The authorities will look at Robbie again.”

She shivered. “So what has Brand found out?”

“All your friends at the Hotel Breteuil have something to hide, including Aurora.”

He was making a joke of it, so she laughed. “What else?”

“That sweet little girl you were supposed to look after, Lady Harriet? She is secretly engaged to a young soldier who has been posted to Canada.”

“They're not engaged, leastways I don't think so. Anyway, he is miles away. He was never a problem. What else did Brand find out?”

“Lady Sedgewick.” He made a droll face. “She's an inveterate gossip, always sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong. The trouble is, she can't see what's in front of her nose. Or can she?”

He was watching her closely. “This is becoming rather sad, isn't it?” she said. “Your friend has discovered that Lord Sedgewick is not a faithful husband. Yes, I had my suspicions. I found him in the summer house once with one of Lady Sedgewick's friends. They both looked guilty, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, “you would.” Then, in an altered tone, “Did you find him with Dorothea?”

It took her a moment to make the connection. “No! Of course not! The Cardvales and the Sedgewicks met for the first time at the embassy ball in Paris. Sir Charles introduced Cardvale and Lord Sedgewick.”

“Well, the Cardvales and Sedgewicks have become very close since then, especially Lord Sedgewick and Dorothea.”

She shook her head. “I don't believe it. Brand must be mistaken. Dorothea would not be so stupid.”

“Perhaps you're right. Brand says himself that he has no proof, only the word of informants he trusts. Sedgewick isn't Dorothea's only lover. There's also Paul Derby.”

“Cardvale's man of business?”

“The same. And this is what's interesting. He showed up in Oxford, asking questions about Robbie. Shortly after, Robbie's room was broken into.”

“Does Robbie know?”

“I think he must. Nothing was taken, so I don't believe he thinks it's worth mentioning.”

She was following his train of thought. “I suppose Derby was looking for Dorothea's diamonds. She still believes that Robbie and I, between us, stole them from her.” In the next instant, she sucked in a breath. “Do you think it was Derby who attacked me in my rooms? Do you think he was waiting for me, that he would have tried to force me to tell him where I'd hidden them?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged. “We're looking for Louise's murderer. Something doesn't feel right about this. I can't see how Derby is involved when he wasn't in Paris.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I wish we'd never started this! It's ugly. People have a right to their privacy.” She looked at him as though she disliked him intensely. “How would you like it if someone started investigating you?”

“I should hate it. But we can't afford to be squeamish. These are the people who were close to you in Paris and are now here in London. We have to investigate them.”

“How can these salacious details about people's private lives help us? Where's the motive? What about alibis? What . . . ?”

She saw something in his face that made her words trail away. There was a heartbeat of silence, then she said slowly, “You haven't mentioned Cardvale. What did Brand have to say about my cousin?”

He sat beside her again and took her hands. “You remember Sir Charles told me that Louise was giving up the theater and was going off with a rich lover? Well, it's more than likely that that man was your cousin Cardvale.”

“That can't be!” she said at once. “Robbie would have known if Cardvale was seeing Louise.”

“Listen to me, Ellie. Cardvale was in Paris not long after the war ended. He and Louise were seen together then. This time around, he kept his head down. Well, his wife was with him. It could be that he was just being discreet.”

“So what if he was seen with Louise? We know from my mother's recipe book that there is a connection between them. Maybe they're related. Maybe he was looking up an old friend. Why must you put a sinister shadow over everything?”

“Because,” he replied forcefully, “someone must be behind all these incidents, and Cardvale is our best bet. Can't you see it? If he was Louise's lover, it gives him a motive for murder. Maybe he was jealous of Robbie. Maybe he set him up to take the blame.”

Her spine straightened, her eyes flashed. “You'll never make me believe that!”

“I'm not finished yet!”

“Don't shout. I'm not deaf.”

He lowered his voice. “He has a house in Hampstead that has recently been spruced up for a new occupant, a lady. Only, that occupant has yet to make an appearance.”

She gave a disbelieving laugh. “You're on the wrong track. I know all about the house in Hampstead. He offered it to me the day I left Paris. Then again, just before our marriage.”

“He did what?” he roared.

She instinctively cowered away from him, and that made her cross. “It was all very innocent. He was trying to be helpful. You're hurting my hands.”