The Sinister Spinster (23 page)

"I can't, Adam," she whispered rawly, steeling herself for his fury. "I would do anything for you, but I can't betray Alexi. His secrets are for him to share, and if you want to know what they are, you must ask him. Only know they have nothing to do with all that has happened here."

She thought he would push her away, shout at her, and was surprised when instead he drew her even closer. "I know that, my sweet," he said, his voice as gentle as the kiss he pressed to her lips. "But it was something I had to ask." He kissed her again, deeper, but just as Elizabeth raised her arms to embrace him, he was setting her away from him.

"Will you be at the services tomorrow?" he asked, his demeanor changing from that of soothing lover to imperious lord.

The sudden change of topic had Elizabeth's senses whirling. "For chapel services, yes," she replied, struggling to keep pace with him. "Will you?"

"I shouldn't miss it," he replied, his voice assuming the familiar hard edge of command. "In the meanwhile, I don't want you haring off on your own. I have enough on my plate just now without worrying about what new mischief you may be falling into."

Elizabeth gave an aggrieved sniff at what she considered an unfair accusation. "You make it sound as if all of this is somehow my doing," she muttered.

To her surprise he gave a low chuckle. "And so it is,
my love," he murmured, smiling down at her. "Only think of the trouble you might have spared us all if you'd come to me from the start. Now come," he added cajolingly, flicking his finger across the tip of her nose, "give me your word you'll behave sensibly."

Elizabeth's heart gave a painful flutter at the casual endearment. "I thought you didn't believe my word," she said, saying the first words to pop into her head.

The laughter in Adam's eyes died, replaced by a look of raw anguish. "I lied," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "God forgive me, I lied." And he swept her up against him, his lips taking hers in a kiss that sent all Elizabeth's senses reeling with delight.

It was a day well suited for a funeral. The sky was dark and swollen with clouds, and a chilling rain lashed against the leaded windows. Over the murmur of conversation Adam could hear the ominous roll of thunder, and he saw more than one person casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. Both Carling and Derwent seemed particularly affected by the Gothic atmosphere, and Adam's eyes narrowed as he studied each man in turn. He was deciding how best to approach them when Lady Barrington drifted over to join him.

"You're looking properly somber, my lord," she murmured, her blue eyes coolly assessing as she studied him over the rim of her glass. "How surprising; I didn't know you were so fond of Mr. Colburt."

Adam's first reaction was to administer the scandalous widow a sharp set-down, but upon reflection he thought better of it. He'd spent a great deal of last evening and this morning subtly interrogating the other guests, but he'd yet to question her grace. Deciding now was as good a time as any, he took a careful sip of his cordial before responding.

"One needn't be fond of someone to mourn his death, your grace," he said, knowing the duchess would mistrust
any sudden show of friendship on his part. "Especially when that death comes so violently and unexpectedly as did Mr. Colburt's."

Lady Barrington gave a light laugh. "Perhaps," she conceded with an indifferent shrug. "But I would hardly think Mr. Colburt's death could be termed
unexpected
. He was such a villainous wretch, it was only a matter of time before someone had enough of his nonsense and killed him."

The unfeeling pronouncement had Adam's eyebrows arching in speculation. "You sound as if you believe Mr. Colburt to blame for his own demise. That seems rather harsh."

"Is it?" She gave another shrug. "I don't believe so. The dolt had only to mind his tongue and his childish temper, and he might have survived into his dotage. But that was Charles; he was never quite as clever as he thought himself to be."

That struck Adam as decidedly telling, but he was politician enough to keep his thoughts to himself. Instead he and the duchess spoke idly of the brief funeral service for Colburt, which had been held a few hours earlier, and after a few minutes her grace drifted off to speak with the other guests. Adam watched her go,

He spent the rest of the afternoon drifting from guest to guest, gleaning from them what he could. He also kept a sharp eye on Elizabeth, and was considerably ill pleased to see her being run ragged by Lady Derring and her friends. When all of this was well behind them, he vowed grimly, he would see her removed from beneath that harpy's claw.

He'd write St. Jerome, he decided. The viscount had proven quite successful in placing his former comrades-in-arms in a variety of positions, and he would best know how to go about securing Elizabeth employment. Or he could even appeal to Elinore, he thought, his brooding gaze sliding in the aloof beauty's direction. Although she'd not had a companion before, there was no reason she
couldn't hire one now. She seemed genuinely fond of Elizabeth, and he was certain she would prove a good and kind employer. It was the perfect solution to his problem.

Yet even as the solution presented itself, Adam found himself rejecting it. He wouldn't wish Elinore on his worse enemy, and in any case, she and Elizabeth were both so stubborn and willful, they were certain to be pulling caps within a fortnight. And fobbing her off on any other lady he could think of was equally repellent. Elizabeth was a lady in her own right, and the idea of her in a succession of subservient positions was an anathema to him.

"Good afternoon, my lord."

Mr. Carling's quiet voice interrupted Adam's dark musings, and he glanced up to find the younger man standing before him. To his surprise the lad's fleshy face had lost its usual expression of sullen petulance, and there was a new air of dignity and purpose about him that lent him a quality that had previously been lacking. Mr. Carling, it seemed, had grown up at last.

"Mr. Carling." Adam inclined his head graciously, showing him the respect he'd previously withheld. "Pray accept my condolences. I am sure Mr. Colburt was a very good friend to you."

"Thank you, Lord Falconer," Mr. Carling replied, further surprising Adam by holding out his hand with commendable maturity. "It is kind of you to say so."

More impressed than he ever thought he'd be with the dandy, Adam accepted the proffered hand The lad's handshake was so firm, it took a few seconds for Adam to notice the piece of paper Carling was pressing into his palm. Their eyes met, and in the younger man's gaze Adam saw both fear and determination reflected in his pale eyes. Adam's fingers curled protectively about the note before he stepped back.

Assuming it likely they were under observation, Adam took pains to conceal the note while he lingered at Carling's side. He waited several seconds before drifting away, and then allowed another ten minutes to pass before
slipping quietly out of the drawing room. His own chambers were too far away and he slipped into the hallway, making certain he was alone before unfolding the note.

"I know who took the papers and then killed Charles,"
he read.
"Meet me in Papa's study after dinner, and I shall tell you all. Tell no one, or I am dead."

Decidedly Gothic and more than a bit dramatic, he thought, tucking the note back into his pocket. But if Carling had any information he was willing to share, he was more than ready to accommodate him.

He returned to the drawing room and spent the next hour drifting from group to group and keeping a sharp eye on Carling. He noted that the lad kept strictly to tea and hovered protectively near his parents, a sight he viewed with considerable satisfaction. Geoffrey Derwent, on the other hand, seemed as hell-bent on mischief making as always, and was making considerable inroads into the earl's decanter of brandy. Remembering how the idiot had blurted out his suspicions and innuendoes while in his cups, Adam began making his way toward him. He'd almost reached his side when disaster struck. It was no small surprise that Elizabeth was the source of the disaster.

"How dare you, sir!" she exclaimed, her hand lashing out to strike Derwent across the face with enough force to send him staggering back. He fetched up against the tea cart, sending it and its contents spilling to the floor in a cacophony of shattering porcelain and piercing feminine shrieks.

"What the devil?" The dandy lay sprawled amongst the broken dishes and smashed cakes, his hand cradling his cheek as he blinked up at her in drunken indignation. "What on earth is wrong with you, you bitch? You're mad!"

The slurred oath had even more women shrieking and swooning, and several more were glaring at him in outraged disgust. Adam reached him in a few strides, hauling
him off the floor and giving him a sound shaking before setting him on unsteady feet.

"Mind your tongue, puppy!" he warned, fixing him in a murderous glare. "I'll call you out if you say one more word."

"But it was a compliment!" the younger man insisted, his humiliation and temper obvious in his flushed cheeks. "Presumptuous doxy; she ought to be grateful for what I offered."

Adam didn't waste any more time with words; he simply doubled up his fist and struck the idiot across the jaw with as much power as he could muster. Derwent went crashing to the floor again, and this time Adam didn't bother picking him up. Carling and two other men came dashing up to help, and Adam gave them each a stern look.

"Take this piece of dung to his rooms and make damned certain I don't clap eyes on him again," he ordered curtly. "I've had all of him I can stomach."

Without waiting to see if his orders were being carried out, he turned to Elizabeth only to see her slipping out of the room, an attentive Elinore at her side. Ignoring the calls and demands of the others for explanations, he turned and gave chase.

"Dearest, are you all right?" he asked, hurrying toward her.

"Of course I'm fine, you dolt!" she snapped, glaring at him in what could only be termed annoyance. "Now get back in there and keep an eye on him before he is killed!"

Adam's jaw dropped in astonishment. He knew Elizabeth too well to think he'd find her near collapse from nerves, but neither had he expected to find her barking orders at him like a top sergeant. Concern gave way to male bafflement and he turned to Elinore, who was also regarding him with a singular lack of appreciation for his heroic efforts.

"What the devil is going on?" he demanded in bellicose tones.

"Mr. Derwent was bragging that he knew the identity of Mr. Colburt's killer," Elinore answered, her gray eyes frosting over with displeasure. "He then offered to share the information with Elizabeth in exchange for her favors. Thank heavens she had the presence of mind to slap him before he said anything more."

"It sounds as if he said quite enough to me," Adam muttered, wondering if he should kill Derwent and be done with it. "How dare he presume to insult you in such a manner!"

"Adam, will you stop brooding over my honor and pay attention to what is important here!" Elizabeth retorted, fisting her hands on her hips and casting him an annoyed scowl. "I didn't slap Mr. Derwent because of his crude innuendoes. I slapped him because it was the only way I could think of to stop him from blurting out the truth without tipping our hand to the enemy!"

Adam's anger faded as the enormity of her observation sunk in.

"Who heard him?" he asked, furious with himself for failing to have grasped the significance of the matter sooner.

"Lady Bealeton, Mrs. Deville, and a few of the others," Elinore replied, ticking off the names with a frown. "And the vicar, Mr. Smithing, was nearby, as I recall, but he is so deaf I doubt he would have heard a brace of cannons if they were shot off next to him. I can't think of who else might have been about."

"Lady Barrington was there talking to Miss Harewood," Elizabeth provided, looking thoughtful. "But judging from the way she jumped when Mr. Derwent upset the tea cart, I'm certain she wasn't paying him any mind."

"Pray to God everyone else was equally inattentive," Adam responded, thinking quickly. He glanced at Elinore. "Lady Elinore, do you know where your footman might be?"

"Taking his turn at passing biscuits, I shouldn't wonder," Elinore replied, eyeing him with her customary coolness. "With the household at sixes and sevens, Lady
Derring has bespoken his services. Do you think I should offer to have him stand guard over Mr. Derwent?"

"Please," Adam said, although privately he thought it would be no great loss if the unknown assassin succeeded in doing away with the drunken Derwent. "In the meanwhile, I want the two of you to continue keeping your eyes and ears open. Report to me the moment you learn anything of value."

Elizabeth opened her lips as if to offer argument, but when Elinore gave a discreet shake of her head, she quickly closed them.

"Of course, my lord," she said, dropping a graceful curtsy. "Will there be anything else?"

Adam cast her a sharp look, strongly suspecting sarcasm. "No," he said between clenched teeth. "There will not."

"In that case, I wonder if her ladyship would be so good as to help me to my room?" She turned to Elinore with a speaking look. "I am sure you will understand that I am quite overwhelmed by all of this and need to seek my bed."

"Of course, my dear," Elinore responded, her dulcet tones making Adam's suspicions grow even sharper. "I shouldn't care to have you swooning in the hall. Come now," she said, and led Elizabeth up the stairs with studied attentiveness.

Adam watched them go, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to go after them. He hadn't time for Elizabeth's temper now, he told himself, turning back toward the drawing room. He had a murderer to catch, stolen papers to recover, and a potentially ruinous political scandal to avoid. The moment he was done with that, however, he would deal with Miss Elizabeth Mattingale. The recalcitrant companion had walked away from him for the last time.

Twelve

"Odious, overbearing tyrant!" Elizabeth wasted little time in letting her annoyance be known. "Telling us to keep our eyes and ears open as if we were a pair of eaves-dropping schoolgirls! Who does he think he is?"