Thornbrook Park (18 page)

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Authors: Sherri Browning

BOOK: Thornbrook Park
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“Yes, Captain Thorne informed me of your run-in with your former landlord. I've been investigating him as well. It struck me as odd when Mrs. Strump initially identified herself by the wrong name. It's the kind of thing to raise flags. After Marcus telephoned yesterday, I investigated further and turned up the most interesting connection between the two.”

Eve thought back to her unusual visit at the Strumps' house and the hat on the hook. “He's her brother.”

“So they say.”

“What do you mean? He's not really her brother? They're only pretending to be blood relatives?” She gasped as she made the connection. “Is he really her
lover
?”

“Very good, Mrs. Kendal. But that's not the whole of it. I did some more checking. It turns out that Mrs. Leona Strump was formerly Mrs. Leona Lawson, born Leona Gibson.”

“But how could she be Leona Lawson? Unless—”

“Yes, they're married. Her marriage to Mr. Strump isn't on the records, not legal. But her marriage to Oliver Lawson is right there in ink, recorded for all time. Along with their arrest records, of course.”

“Arrests? Lawson and his wife, both?”

Mr. Reilly nodded. “For fraud. They were caught selling interest in a supposed inn in Brighton, meant to attract vacationers to the seaside. One of the investors finally decided to go enjoy a stay at the inn he'd invested in, only to find nothing at the address but a pile of sand. He alerted authorities, and they used a deception to catch the Lawsons.”

“A deception?”

“Detectives went in pretending to be potential investors and caught the Lawsons in the act. Oliver took the fall for both of them, claimed the wife was his innocent dupe in the affair. He served a few years in prison, and Leona was waiting for him when he got out. That's when he started buying land in India. I think he realized it would be harder for authorities to keep tabs on him there. We think that's where he hid half of their money in the first place. The investors were never paid back, due to Lawson's lack of funds upon his arrest. Probably unaware of Mr. Lawson's background, Mr. Strump was acting as his solicitor for the land purchases in India.”

“I believe it is through Mr. Strump that my husband and Mr. Lawson met.”

“At some point, they must have decided to defraud Mr. Strump and convince him to marry Leona in a bogus ceremony, with Lawson posing as her brother. Unless Strump was in on it all along, which seems unlikely.”

“I see where you're heading with this. The diamond mine is a fraud. It doesn't exist. My money's all gone.” She didn't feel as empty inside as she'd believed she would. Deep down, she'd probably known it all along.

“I'm sorry. Yes.”

“I might have gotten the poor man killed.” Eve's heart sank. “When I went in asking questions, stirring Mr. Strump to action. If he didn't realize the mine was a fraud, he might have discovered it that night when he started looking into Ben's investments.”

“Don't blame yourself.” Mr. Reilly placed a hand on hers. “With those two, it was probably inevitable. Nasty characters. They'll get theirs eventually.”

“Eventually?” She raised a brow. “Why not now?”

“There's nothing to tie them to the murder so far. I'll keep investigating, of course, and I have some of Scotland Yard's finest on the case with me. We do have a potential murder weapon, a bookend found wrapped with the body in a rug. As for the fraud, it's even harder to prove, considering the supposed mine is in India and the fraud most likely took place there.”

“Let me guess. The bookend is gilded?”

“How did you know? It's a gilded monkey.”

Eve shuddered. “If you'd been in the Strumps' house, you would know. The Lawsons killed him. I'm certain. Can't your investigators get in and have a look around?”

“We're working on it.”

“Tell me more about this deception that nailed them the last time they committed fraud. I think I might have some ideas of how we could get them again.”

“Mrs. Kendal, I must say, you're quite a surprise.” His gray eyes sparkled with mirth. “I like the way you think.”

“It shouldn't be too surprising, Mr. Reilly. They took my husband's money,
my
money. If I can't get it back, I should at least have the pleasure of seeing them imprisoned for the rest of their God-given days.”

***

“What's the news?” Marcus asked as he came to the breakfast table, meaning both around the world and in their household. He expected that George could be trusted, but what if he were wrong?

“Finland has given women the right to vote.” Gabriel shook his head disapprovingly. “They expect some of them will now run for office.”

“Women? Running for office? Lady Alice will celebrate the news. We're sure to follow suit eventually. The world is changing.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes over the top of his paper. “I won't be the one to tell her.”

Marcus sifted through the fruit bowl in search of a shiny, red apple. “I'm sure she follows the reports.”

“Are you sure from intimate conversations? How are you faring with Lady Alice?”

“Well enough.” Marcus shrugged, giving up on the fruit. He would find plenty of apples at Tilly Meadow. He had made a weak attempt to flirt with Lady Alice at last night's dinner, but his heart wasn't in it. He'd been preoccupied with thoughts of Eve and their phenomenal afternoon lovemaking. Her absence at the table signified that it wouldn't happen again. She'd cut him off. One of them had to do it. Clearly, she was stronger than he. She was extraordinary…

“Marcus? Would you care to answer, or have you taken to ignoring me?”

“Sorry. I was mentally making plans for my day with Brandon at the farm.”

Gabriel shook his head. “That's exactly what I asked you: ‘Are you headed to the farm with the boy today?' And your answer could have been, ‘Yes, Brother, I am.'”

“I sent George to wake him, get him ready, and gather up his things. He should be down at any moment and we're off. Bill, have we any coffee?” Marcus asked the footman, eager to discourage more conversation with his brother. He felt his mood darken with every word between them.

“Of course, sir. I will bring some immediately.”

His brother favored tea, a pot of which remained on the table in front of Gabriel. Sophia floated in wearing a black frock with white sleeves, a high white neck, and a wide red sash.

“You look lovely, as always.” Marcus pulled out her chair and helped her get settled. Gabriel remained seated.

“Thank you, Marcus. I'm glad someone notices such things.”

“I notice you, my darling. I always notice,” Gabriel said somewhat defensively.

“It doesn't hurt to say so.”

“Well, do
you
notice
me
?” Gabriel put down the paper and leaned across the table. “I don't recall your complimenting me on my attire. If women are going to be demanding equal rights, there are going to be some role reversals to contend with along the way.”

“Role reversals?” Marcus returned to his seat with his breakfast as Bill brought out his coffee and poured. “What an interesting assertion. I'm sure Lady Alice would have lots to say on that, too.”

“On that, too?” He'd piqued Sophia's interest. “Have we been discussing my sister this morning?”

“Only that Finland has adopted universal suffrage. Perhaps she might consider relocating.”

“Goodness, no. I couldn't stand for Alice to be that far away. But she would like the idea, wouldn't she? I wish she had come to breakfast.”

“And Mrs. Kendal?” Marcus tried to stop his pulse from quickening as he dared speak her name. “Where is she this morning?”

Sophia sighed. “I found a note under my door. She's run off to London to tend her business affairs. Can you imagine anything more tedious? It's not like her to be so—spontaneous. Well, perhaps it is. I've no idea what habits she picked up in India. And a bad habit it is, dashing off without a word, leaving a note. I had plans for us today.”

“London?” Marcus felt a pang in his chest. She didn't leave a note for him. “She just ran off?”

“Mmm. Just like that.” Sophia snapped the fingers of her left hand while pouring tea with the right.

The pang in his chest turned to an icy stab of fear. Lawson was back in London. But of course, she would go straight to Tom Reilly, and Reilly would look out for her, wouldn't he? Marcus would have to try to telephone to be sure. “I still have some business in London. I might head out tomorrow myself, once I get Brandon settled.”

At once, Sophia's and Gabriel's heads shot up, and their eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“To London?” Sophia said, a chill in her tone. “Both of you at Averford House again? How cozy.”

Brandon came bounding into the room, saving Marcus from a response.

“Oh.” He stopped short. “Lord and Lady Averford, how do you do?” He gave a short bow.

Despite spending time with them the other afternoon, a day after his arrival, Brandon still seemed intimidated by them. It annoyed Marcus to no end. They were only people, for goodness sake. A title didn't make them superior by nature, even if it gave them privileges denied the common man.

“Very well, this morning, thank you.” Sophia beamed, charmed.

Even Gabriel smiled, apparently taken by the boy. At least, Marcus could be grateful for that. “On your way out, stop by the kennel, would you? I've arranged for you to choose your favorite pointer puppy to bring with you to the farm.”

Brandon's mouth fell open. “A dog? For my very own?”

“I have more than I can handle,” Gabriel said, puffing out his chest as if quite pleased with himself. “And you've taken such a shine to them. A boy should have a companion, don't you think?”

“He has me,” Marcus said, between gritted teeth. “I'm not sure he'll have much time to be caring for a dog of his own with all Mrs. Dennehy has planned for him. You should have checked with me. Deuce it, Gabriel, did you even think to check with her?”

“He has
you
?” Gabriel had the nerve to laugh. “I'm not sure you'll prove as loyal or as constant as a dog for a companion, Marcus. Yes, I checked with Mrs. Dennehy. She thought it a fine idea, as long as the boy trains the pup on his own. You can do that, can't you, lad?”

“Yes.” Brandon could hardly contain his excitement. “I know exactly how to manage him. Mr. Parsons told me everything I need to know.”

“Mr. Parsons?” Marcus cocked a brow.

“The kennel master.” Gabriel shook his head. “You might want to take some time to get to know the place again, Brother. You're going to be spending a lot of time here from now on.”

Marcus met his brother's gaze. Both of their eyes flashed in warning, one to the other. Of course, Gabriel was right. If Marcus married Alice and was forced to take up residence in the Dower House, he would be spending too much time at Thornbrook Park.

“Brandon, get some breakfast. It's time we went off to the farm.”

Nineteen

“Of course it will work.” Eve went over the plan with Mr. Reilly one more time. “They're greedy. If they see the chance to get their hands on more money, they're sure to incriminate themselves.”

“You have a point there, but it's risky. Dangerous. We know the Lawsons are capable of murder. If anything happens to you, Marcus will have my hide.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Reilly. I take full responsibility for my actions.” Her heart fluttered. Would Marcus really go after Mr. Reilly in the event that something happened to her? Would he mourn her? Even as he prepared to marry Alice?

“Try telling him that if…” He gestured, drawing a finger like a knife across his throat and lolling his tongue out.

“Stop.” She delivered a playful slap to Mr. Reilly's arm. “Nothing will happen.”

“I still don't like the idea of you going in there alone.”

“It's the only way to set it up. You'll be outside, should anything happen. I'm certain you can get inside in time to prevent the worst, in any event.” Her stomach churned. She was not so certain at all, but there was no help for it. With her money gone and her heart hopelessly devoted to a man she could not have, she had nothing left to lose. It was worth the risk to think of the Lawsons paying for their crimes.

“I'm going to give you a knife, precautionary, to strap under your skirts or up a sleeve, somewhere accessible. I won't send you in without a weapon, just in case. I wish there was time to teach you to shoot.”

“I'm not exactly skilled with a knife, either. I could always pick up a blunt object, something gilded, and defend myself with it. But it won't come to that. Leona Lawson won't hurt me. And you said yourself that your Scotland Yard man never saw Mr. Lawson come off the train.”

“We've had no sight of him at all. Marcus saw him get on the train in Thornbrook, but no one saw him get off. We have no idea where he is. He could be in the Strumps' house.”

“He could have gone back to Thornbrook. If he was that determined to injure me, as Marcus insisted and it seems that he was right, it's most likely he would have gone back to try again. But he could be anywhere. I'll be on guard.”

Reilly sighed. “If you're ready, then.”

“I am.” She adjusted her hat, pulled on her coat, and they were off.

They took a cab most of the way from Mr. Reilly's office, then she walked the short distance from the corner with Mr. Reilly trailing a safe distance behind her. She went up the few stone steps and rang the bell.

“Mr. Gerald, so good to see you again. You remember me, don't you?” She greeted the butler familiarly when he answered the door.

“Yes. I'll just see if the lady is in.” He started to close the door but she swept in past him.

“I know she will want to see me, the poor dear. She must be so lonely with her husband gone. Or has he come back?”

The butler shook his head. “I'm afraid we've had a bit of bad news. Mr. Strump was found dead.”

“Dead?” She mocked horror. “You don't say! How awful for poor Mrs. Strump. Perhaps this is a bad time. Though, nothing like a distraction to get through the grief. I know from having gone through it myself. Run and get her, would you? I'll have a seat and wait.”

The butler stood still a moment, either overwhelmed or trying to decide how to proceed. Eve held her breath until he turned on his heel and went off to fetch his mistress. She took the time to make a sweeping assessment of the room. There were plenty of gilded objects on the end tables—a chess set with gilded pieces, a statuette of a unicorn—but no monkey in sight, and no bookshelves, for that matter. Maybe in another room?

A moment later, Leona Strump appeared, all in black and dabbing at her eyes with a kerchief, all for effect. Eve didn't see any actual tears. “I'm surprised to see you in London. I thought you were—well, in the country somewhere. I don't recall.”

An honest reaction, perhaps, if Leona's husband had gone to murder Eve in Thornbrook. Eve decided she had best keep to some grain of truth. “I've only just arrived. Yesterday. I'm embarrassed to admit that my friend tossed me out. I had nowhere else to go.”

“Tossed you out?”

“Oh, Mrs. Strump. I shouldn't share the news, but it's spreading fast enough as it is and I feel that I can trust you. I felt a connection to you on my very first visit. I was caught in flagrante with another of Thornbrook Park's guests.”

Despite her grieving widow act, Leona Lawson's painted lips curved into a smile. “I see. You've hit bottom. But I'm sure Gerald has told you I'm not much for company. If you're looking for information, I've nothing to give.”

“Oh no, I'm done with looking into the past.” Eve waved her hand. “Please, sit and talk with me. I think we can be useful to each other and I hope you will hear me out.”

“Useful?” Leona arched a penciled brow. “How would you be any use to me?”

“I've come into some money,” Eve blurted out, pushing further into the room and taking a seat on the sofa. She'd been planning to make more conversation first, but she had a feeling Mrs. Strump was ready to throw her out. “Recently.”

“Gerald, make some tea.” Leona Strump made her way to the sitting area and took the chair across from Eve. “Why on earth do I want to hear about your good fortune when I'm lamenting a change in my own? My husband's gone.”

“Come, Mrs. Strump. I'm very sorry for your loss. But I remember our last conversation. You pointed out that we've no heads for business, being women, and I retorted that I had no choice but to start managing my own affairs following my husband's demise.”

Leona dabbed at her eyes again. “I remember.”

“Here you are, in the same spot. I've thought of you every day since our visit, how awful it is to suddenly find yourself alone. And now that I find out your husband is dead—”

“Don't think to soften me with your attempt at pity.” Leona dropped the handkerchief as if a symbol of her dropping the act. “I know nothing about your affairs, as I said. I can't help you recover your husband's investments.”

“I've given it up as lost, but I no longer have a need for my husband's money now that I've taken up with the Comte.”

“The Comte?” Leona perched on the edge of her chair. The butler brought the tea.

“Comte Louis Lestrange, from France. You must have seen him mentioned in the society pages?” Eve took the liberty of pouring herself tea and picked up her cup. She counted on Leona being the type not to read the papers. “You know our king's interest in foreign affairs? Bertie and Louis became fast friends at court in France.”

“Perhaps I've seen him mentioned.” Leona took a sip of tea.

“I wouldn't go around talking about it, certainly, but Lord knows, I need a friend. The Comte and I have fallen in love. He has a wife in Paris, of course, so it's quite a scandal.
Une
scandale
astronomique
, as Louis says. He vows to leave his wife for me.”

Mrs. Strump reached out and patted Eve's leg. “They all say that, dear.”

“But it's true. I have to believe it. I have nothing else. Alas, he's afraid that his comtesse will take everything he has in the divorce. They have five children. She can destroy his reputation.”

Mrs. Strump nodded, clearly becoming caught up in Eve's tale.

“That's why I've come to you. After all my time in India, I know so few people in England, and most of them refuse to see me now that the scandal has broken. You're my last hope. Louis wants to invest a large sum of money in something fast, before his wife hears the news of our affair and gets her hands on his fortune. She can only take what she can find, after all. I know you've no records of my late husband's investments, but I'm praying that you still have information on the diamond mine.”

“The mine?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Diamonds, such a sound investment, don't you think? I was telling Louis the sad story of my lost money, and he jumped up and said so. A diamond mine! It's the perfect investment. How could you not make money investing in diamonds?”

“That's what my late husband used to say.” Mrs. Strump nodded eagerly. “Diamonds are always increasing in value. He invested some of our money in the mine, I must confess, and we did quite well. The yields were high, Mrs. Kendal. It was the investment in the mine that enabled us to buy this house and improve our station. We live well. Alas, he's no longer here to enjoy it.”

“So you do know a bit about it, the mine?” Eve pretended to be surprised.

“Not about any of the other investors, sadly. I don't know what happened to my husband's records. But I do know how to get in touch with the owner of the mine to discuss making an investment. He happens to be a friend of my brother.”

“Your brother? Oh, I think you mentioned him the other day.” Eve noticed that Leona did not mention her brother by name, probably eager to keep Eve from making a connection.

Mrs. Strump nodded. “I might have. Come to think of it, he might have an idea of what money your husband had coming to him, too. He must have the records. Why didn't I think of it before? You probably have a small sum coming to you, and here I thought I could be no help to you. He would know. There's your answer.”

“It makes no difference now. Perhaps I'll reinvest it, if you think it's a lucrative prospect.” Suddenly Leona was singing a new tune, probably trying to appear more reliable with a new potential fortune on the line.

“I do. Why don't I put together a meeting between Mr. Royce, the mine owner, and your comte?”

“You would be willing? The solution to all of our problems! Louis will be so happy. He can leave his wife without losing his entire fortune, and I can be the next Comtesse Lestrange.”

“Comtesse?” Leona smiled. “It does have a nice ring to it. Why don't you give me your address in town so I can keep in touch?”

Eve recoiled. “I'm afraid I must keep it a secret. Louis wouldn't want the press to catch wind that we were sharing lodgings.”

“I see, yes. I'm certain I can arrange for Mr. Royce to meet with you here. Let's say a week from now? Same time?”

“So sudden. Louis will be overjoyed. Time is of the essence. Thank you, Mrs. Strump.” Eve rose, ready to make a swift exit in case Oliver Lawson was hiding and ready to pounce. “Or, as Louis would say,
merci
beaucoup
! You're a savior. Again, my condolences. See you next week.”

Mr. Reilly leaned against a light post just down the street. In case she was still being watched, he waited until Eve walked by and fell in behind her. “About time. I was about to charge in and rescue you.”

She did not turn to speak until they were around the corner. “Sorry. It took a little longer than I thought. I had to make sure Leona was falling for the setup.”

“And she did?”

“We're meeting her and the owner of the diamond mine at this time next week. Oh, but some small details. You need to work on your French accent, and is there any way we can plant some items in the society pages?”

Mr. Reilly shook his head. “French? That wasn't part of the plan. Let's get some tea and you can explain.”

***

By the time Marcus returned from the farm, it was late, and he was exhausted down to his bones. Every muscle ached. As soon as George helped him pull off his boots, he dismissed him in favor of simply stripping off his clothes and getting right into bed.

Outside, he was a wreck. On the inside, though, he felt better than he had in years. A hard day's work had done him a world of good. It had been even better for Brandon, who truly took a shine to each task and looked forward to the next. The boy delighted in the sight of the cows and sheep, and hadn't even minded cleaning the pens. To Brandon, it was all an adventure. Together, they repaired the barn's loose planks, patched the roof, fixed the fence, and split some wood for Mrs. Dennehy's fire. In return, she'd fed them a hearty meal.

Over dinner, Brandon talked about his mother and siblings, and Mrs. Dennehy smiled through it all. Brandon would be good company, she'd concluded. And an even better farmhand. She wouldn't mind taking on more of his sort, she'd said, once his brother and sisters were old enough for rough work. But when Marcus mentioned that Prudence might also be a good fit on the farm, a capable cook and someone to take over making the Dennehy cheese, Mrs. Dennehy shook her head.

“There's only one cheese maker at Tilly Meadow Farm,” she'd insisted. “And those recipes are sacred, for Dennehy eyes only.”

Still, the way she'd taken to Brandon, Marcus felt encouraged. Maybe in a year or two, once she got used to having more help around the farm, she would bring the whole family on. In the meantime, Marcus would have to make sure the Coopers fit in plenty of visits with Brandon.

The sight of the boy with red in his cheeks, radiating happiness and good health, raised Marcus's spirits. He thought about spending the night to make sure Brandon was settled, but Mrs. Dennehy talked him out of it.

“Better the boy gets used to it,” she'd said.

Besides, Brandon had his dog, the pointer he'd chosen from the litter and named Scout. With Brandon settled, Marcus was free to head off to London to catch up with Eve. He didn't care what his brother had to say about it. Eve could be in danger, and he wasn't about to leave her out there alone. Or alone with Tom Reilly, anyway. Reilly was a man, after all, and Eve was a beautiful woman…

Marcus had just stripped off his shirt when a knock on the door interrupted his musings.

“Yes?” He opened it without thinking, hoping to find Eve, expecting it might only be George, and startled when he saw one of the maids on the other side instead.

She took advantage of his stupefaction to ease by him and into his room.

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