Wiles of a Stranger (25 page)

“And making Mr. Kirby unavailable when we needed him.”

“I meant to tell you sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You won’t like my reason,” he cautioned, with a wary look. “Pray remember I had never met your father. I had just got back from a long stint in India, and chose him on the word of an acquaintance, who did not know him personally. He did not say he was
honest
. There was a chance he had stolen the diamonds, and likewise a possibility he had sent you down here to help him in some manner.”

“You thought we were thieves!”

“Subsequent inquiries assured me it was not the case. All right, you won’t like the other reason any better, but here it is. I thought if you knew I could get your father out of jail quickly, you would pester me to do it. You have such a winning way, Anna. It suited me better to let Stella and Wiggins think their schemes were not suspected. Dutch agreed to sit tight while I laid my snares to entrap them.”

“It was foolish of us not to think they would kidnap Lucien.”

“Stella was to be the victim, originally. It was only when Beaudel began to think she had snaffled the Jaipur, and looked at her with a less loving eye, that she feared he wouldn’t pay up for her. I believe the Cantors were notified the night you went to Kirby’s cottage. Wiggins was also out, remember?”

“Yes, Tess thought I was with him.”

“You may imagine how I felt when I learned my mistake. The deuce of it was we never learned where the cottage was, that they had hired to hold Lucien. We always assumed we’d grab them before they had occasion to use it. We didn’t even know you and Lucien were gone for a couple of hours. Mullins and I were on the
qui vive
at the house, watching Stella and Wiggins, who went about their normal activities like a couple of professional actors. When we finally realized it was time you and Lucien were coming back and went after you, we  wasted another hour searching orchards and stables and I don’t know what all. God, what a nightmare, as it slowly sank in what had happened. And after I sent you out there too.”

“As a matter of fact, Stella made a point of checking to see I was taking him out that afternoon.”

 “Was it very bad?” he asked sympathetically.

“You saw the accommodations. You didn’t have to taste the food.” The worst of it, I did not mention—that I thought he was a thieving impostor.

 “I was so happy to see you alive, I didn’t take much notice of the accommodations. It was impossible not to notice you had changed color, of course.”

“What I have been wondering is how you ever talked Stella into leading you to me.”

“It wasn’t easy. I can’t remember when I have told so many lies as I have the past week. It went more or less like this. To convince Beaudel his wife was behind the kidnapping, I had to take him completely into my confidence—my real identity, Algernon’s suspicions, the report from Tunbridge Wells, the lot. He already knew she didn’t care a tinker’s curse for him—he knew it, but tried to pretend he didn’t, to himself even, I mean. The ransom demand came in the mail the morning after you two were taken away. Charles let on he was going to pay up, but once we got a look at the details, we saw there was no way of trapping them during the exchange of money for boy. He was to take a case full of cash to London, along a predetermined route, on the mail coach. Alone, of course. There were dozens of chances of a foul-up, but most of all was the time involved. None of us could endure a week’s delay. The thirty or so hours you were gone seemed an eternity. Worrying, remorse—God, I feel as old as Beaudel looks.”

“We never would have lasted a week without going insane.”

“Neither would we. So I went to Stella and made her another offer. I told her I was a con man, like herself, come to steal the Jaipur. She already thought a fake was in the safe, so she wasn’t hard to convince I had the original. Beaudel loaned it to me. I showed it to her, and told her it was hers if she’d take me to you.”

“She must have thought you were very fond of me!”

“I am, but she wouldn’t understand love. She really doesn’t even love Wiggins, but only finds him a useful tool. I told her you were my accomplice, and I had to get you back. We—ah—discussed disposing of you terminally, but I convinced her that besides my having some designs on your body, you were negotiating to become governess for the Duchess of Devontree. The Dowager Duchess, you know, has a very fine collection of jewelry. My story was probably shot full of holes, if she had sat down and thought about it, but I kept flashing the diamond at her, and tempting her greed, and rushing her like the devil. I told her I had to leave that night, with or without you, but preferably with. In the end, she agreed to slip out of the house with me after dark, and take me to you. The name of Lucien was not even mentioned in my priorities. I am by no means sure either of us would have been allowed to leave alive. Your little surprise in having lost Lucien upset the girl. That was very clever, letting on he had never been there. How’d you come to think of it?”

“I learned the trick of setting thieves at each other’s throats from you, Bertie.”

“Thank you. Here Mullins has been telling me he takes the credit, as he gave you some lessons in logic.”

“It was inspiration, not logic.”

“Whatever it was, it worked. Stella cropped out into a nice, incriminating confession before two witnesses—you and me. She would have had more in a minute. The police were to storm in five minutes behind me, or sooner, if they heard shots or other ominous sounds.”

“You arranged to have them follow you and Stella?”

“I’d never have found you, if she hadn’t taken me to you. It was only desperation that pushed me to offer her the diamond. Greed is a terrible thing. It blinds folks to reason.”

“Love is as bad. Poor Beaudel—what a monkey she made of him.”

“At his age too. He ought to know better. It is excusable in young whippersnappers like ourselves. I hope you aren’t rehearsing to renounce me on the grounds that love is bad for the use of reason,” he said, as he grabbed me into his arms, raking my cheek with his beard.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Bertie. I have much better grounds for renouncing you. Lying, impersonating an officer—” He covered my lips with his and kissed me, tickling my chin with his beard, so that I laughed and spoiled it. “Getting my father tossed into jail, and me…”

“And you a very eligible husband. Don’t forget
that
in your list of crimes! Dutch let it slip how
desperate
he is to find you a presentable parti.”

After a heavy frown, he kissed me again, more forcefully, so that I forgot the beard, and all the wretched consequences of his interference in our lives. It had been worth it after all.

* * * *

The early part of the morning Bertie and Beaudel spent at the courts, signing complaints and testimony against the infamous Stella and Wiggins. By eleven, my father was at last out of jail, and before noon, he came to Glanbury Park with the other men, for his final view of the Jaipur. He was wreathed in smiles, and delighted to be rid of me. He was also full of potential customers for the Jaipur.

“I’ll tell you who would pay top pound for it—the old Dowager Duchess of Devontree. She covets unique gems of this sort. I usually get a five-percent commission for arranging mutually satisfactory bargains of this sort,” he added.

“No, no, we are in no hurry to sell,” Bertie told him, while Beaudel hemmed and hawed, afraid to open his mouth, for fear of displeasing someone.

It was several weeks before the matter was finalized. With such reluctance to sell, it was necessary for the Dowager to go as high as 65,000 guineas, and Papa as low as two percent on his fee. It was sufficient to give his daughter a decent wedding, as she modestly declined any dowry. What Bertie calls his “chicken stake,” and the rest of us call his fortune, is more than sufficient to keep us in style in London. Neither of us has any desire to remove to the country, which displeases Sacheverel nearly as much as the sale of the Jaipur. He will be even more displeased to hear his son is turning tea merchant, so we will be at pains to see he does not hear it.

I like my husband much better without his whiskers, and decline every offer on his part to grow them again. They remind me too sharply of my ordeal at Glanbury Park. Sir Algernon is installed there now, taking care of Lucien, and chasing after all the local girls. He bought back all of Lucien’s collection that Bertie purchased, thank goodness. Lucien, who writes to me occasionally, suspects Miss Little has set her cap at Algernon, and is giving her every assistance in her quest. She could not have a better go-between, in my opinion. Lord Sheldon urges the suit on his nephew. He claims he is very satisfied that the governesses from Glanbury Park make excellent wives.

Copyright © 1982 by Joan Smith

Originally published by Fawcett Coventry

Electronically published in 2005 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.