It Takes a Lady Read online

  IT TAKES A LADY

  Joan Smith

  Chapter One

  Nicholas Charles Alexander Barnes, Lord Carbury to society columnists, Nick to his many friends and at times Boo to his close relatives, was enjoying a stroll in the May sunshine along bustling Bond Street. His leisurely walk was interrupted from time to time by friends, often ladies, stopping him for a chat. An extremely eligible earl and abbey-owner would have been popular, even if he had not been six feet tall with crow black hair and a dashing smile. He continued his stroll, with forays into shops offering the choice wares of the world to those fortunate few like himself with deep pockets and no pressing financial obligations.

  Now what should he buy? Just some elegant trifle — a new snuff box, perhaps, to add to his collection. Wasn’t there a little shop just across the street dealing in such items? He waited for a break in the traffic. As he stood waiting he spotted Elizabeth Warwick, and worse, he feared her sharp eyes had spotted him.

  Yes, there she was legging it at top speed across the busy roadway, heedless of traffic, to waylay him. Demmed near got herself run down by Rooster Rogan’s curricle. Rooster shouted a curse at her fleeing form. A lady in a plain round bonnet and undistinguished dark suit was mistaken for a commoner, and treated as such. Now why the deuce had a lady with a dowry of thirty thousand rigged herself out like a poor relation?

  Carbury quickly conned possible escape routes and chose a shop purveying snuff as one a straight-laced lady like Miss Warwick would not care to enter. As he ducked into the shop he was assailed by the tantalizing aroma of exotic blends of snuff. He ignored the temptation to dally and darted behind a row of glazed canisters to peer out to the street from behind one marked Bolongaro.

  Once safe, he wondered what Miss Warwick had been after him for. Although she was an infernal do-gooder, she did not usually single him out for attention. Quite the opposite, in fact. This begging for charity was the result of making her home with her aunt, Lady Gertrude Pelham, the sister of a bishop, when her own mama died. The whole family were all chock full of doing good deeds, usually at the expense of their friends. Ecclesiastics, educators, social reformers, and wealthy along with it.

  Never a bad marriage or investment in the lot of them. He was fortunate to have escaped Miss Warwick’s clutches all those years ago, or they would have drawn him into their work. He did his share of good works, but damme her aunt had dunned him for a donation for the orphans or homeless or some such disadvantaged group just last week. When he felt he was safe, he stepped out from behind the canister of Bolongaro to resume his stroll down Bond Street.

  And there she was, waiting for him just inside the doorway. “Carbury, I’m so glad I bumped into you,” she said, rushing forward and taking a firm grip on his elbow. “Bumped into” — that was not the way he would have described this infernal hounding. “Do you have a minute? It is most important that I speak to you — in private.” She peered over her shoulder as she spoke. He was the only customer in the shop. The shopkeeper, busy blending his wares, was paying them no heed.

  “I’m in rather a hurry this morning, Miss Warwick,” he said, drawing out a handsome gold watch and frowning at it.

  “This is more important,” she said, and hustled him out the door into the sunlight. She disliked to chase him so obviously, but he need not fear she had designs on marrying him this time. She had learned her lesson. Goodness, hadn’t he realized that, after five years?

  “Sorry, my pockets are to let. Lady Gertrude sold me tickets on the current raffle just last week,” he said.

  “No, no, you misunderstand me. I’m not after money. This is much more important. Where is your carriage? I wouldn’t want anyone to overhear this.”

  “I’m driving my curricle today,” he lied, thinking she would object. “You wouldn’t be comfortable in an open sports carriage.”

  “Never mind that. Why, there is your carriage now. Your closed carriage, Carbury,” she said with a knowing glance that was first cousin to a sneer. She raised her hand to summon it and the coachman pulled the gleaming carriage and team of matched bays to a halt beside them. “How you gents spoil yourselves, having two rigs follow you when you go for a stroll.”

  Caught out in a blatant lie, he willed down an angry retort and said, “As I mentioned, I am in rather a hurry today. An appointment...”

  “She can wait,” she said, not bothering to hide the sneer.

  “Who said it was with a she?”

  “One assumes when Lord Carbury is in a great rush it is a ‘she’ that is the cause.” Carbury enjoyed the reputation of a famous flirt, something she had not realized five years before, when he honoured her with one of his flirtations. Fresh from the country, she assumed that when a gentleman singled a lady out for special attention, his intentions were honourable. After a few weeks of courting she had said, in her innocence, “When am I to meet your family, Nicholas? If we mean to marry this spring, we ought to be making arrangements.”

  She would never forget the way he stared at her, like a wild animal caught in a trap. “Married!” he cried, aghast. And never called on her again, never stood up with her at any of the balls or routs, barely nodded when they met. On those social occasions when circumstances threw them together, he was careful to call her Miss Warwick. He had used to call her Elizabeth, or even Lizzie. She retaliated by calling him Lord Carbury. The alienation did not entirely spare him from being dunned for charity, however.

  The postboy hopped down, opened the door and let down the step. She got in, and Carbury, per force, joined her. “I am so glad I spotted you, for you are the very one who can help me,” she said. “You know Sara Westlake very well, I think? A bosom bow of her fiancé, Lord Buckner?”

  “I am acquainted with them both. I would hardly say we are great friends.”

  “But you have an invitation to Lady Belmont’s ball?”

  “I received one. I’m not sure I shall attend. Lady Melbourne is holding a party that same evening. Why do you ask? What the deuce has that got to do with anything?”

  “You must go – and take me with you.”

  “Miss Warwick! You cannot go pestering people for donations at a ball. It’s not done!”

  “I’ve already told you this isn’t about money.”

  “What is it then?” he asked in confusion.

  “I must search Sara’s room before she gets rid of it.”

  He frowned, trying to make sense of this seeming nonsense. “She’s not likely to get rid of her room until she marries. I don’t believe her engagement to Buckner has even been announced yet.”

  “Don’t be obtuse. I don’t mean get rid of her room. I mean the ruby necklace.”

  He shook his head in confusion. “I’m sorry. What ruby necklace are you talking about, and why would she want to get rid of it?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Have you not heard about Tommy Gower stealing her aunt’s ruby necklace?”

  “My cousin a thief? I haven’t the faintest notion what you’re talking about, Miss Warwick.”

  “Well, I am surprised a buck like you hasn’t heard about the worst scandal of the Season. It happened at a rout party at Galveston’s last night. Sara’s aunt, Lady Belmont, was wearing that great showy ruby necklace her husband got for her in India, and when she rose to leave — she always goes home when the dancing begins — the necklace was missing. The place was in an uproar looking for it. They searched the entire place, did everything but make us strip, and the upshot is that the necklace was gone. Simply disappeared.

  “Then someone remembered that Tommy Gower had brought her a glass of wine, and apparently walked around behind the sofa as he left. Soon after that she remembered his eyes resting on the necklace when he handed her the drink, and
feeling his fingers at her neck when he walked behind her, and since Tommy had left shortly after, she decided that he had grabbed the necklace and bolted.” She ended on an angry snort.

  “Are you sure he didn’t?” Before she could give vent to her protest, he continued, “No, I retract that. Tommy’s a young idiot, but I don’t suppose he has turned thief.”

  “Of course not!” she said angrily. “Just because he was involved in that duel last month people think he’s capable of anything. He deloped after all, he didn’t kill anyone. And of course everyone knows he’s in dun territory, so they assume he stole the necklace.”

  He listened, shocked at the story, then said, “I don’t see what this has to do with my taking you to Lady Belmont’s ball.”

  “I told you. I have to search Sara’s room before she gets rid of the necklace. I need an accomplice.”

  “You’re mad. Why would Sara steal a necklace when she is on the edge of marrying a nabob like Lord Buckner?”

  “It is very odd, but I know she did.”

  “I don’t believe a word of it. And if she were to do such an unlikely thing, why would she do it in public, where she might be seen? She lives with her aunt, she could have snitched it any time.”

  “Isn’t it obvious she did it at the rout to divert suspicion from herself? I know she did it. I saw her.”

  He looked at her with concern. She sounded almost hysterical. She didn’t look like herself either in that awful outfit. Was Miss Warwick quietly going mad? “Are you feeling quite well, Miss Warwick? Been sleeping all right? No fits or sudden lapses of memory?”

  “I never felt better in my life, except for this business of Tommy Gower being accused of being a thief.”

  “I didn’t realize Tommy was a particular friend of yours. Not a member of your charity set, is he?”

  “Just a good friend, though as a matter of fact he does help my aunt and me. Not with money, of course, but in other ways.”

  “I see. But if you saw Sara taking the necklace, why didn’t you say so at the time?”

  “I tried to! She had left before Lady Belmont noticed the rubies were missing. Sara and Buckner were going on to some other party. I said that very likely Sara had taken it and forgotten to tell her aunt, for I couldn’t believe she had actually stolen it. But no one paid any attention to me and her aunt said nonsense, Sara wouldn’t do such a foolish thing.

  “I disliked to just say right out that she’d stolen it. I was sure there must be some innocent explanation and didn’t want to embarrass Sara by starting such a story. Buckner would drop her in a minute, and she is simply infatuated with him. I thought about calling on Sara this morning, but since she hasn’t come forward and said what happened, it would mean just going and calling her a liar and a thief. And what is there to stop her from denying it?”

  “How do you know she hasn’t told her aunt, explained the whole thing away?”

  “Because Bow Street is out looking for Tommy. They are questioning his friends. Aunt Gertrude had a call this morning. What I must do is get into the house and find the necklace. Then she cannot very well deny it.”

  Carbury listened, and when he realized Elizabeth was serious and seriously worried, he reluctantly accepted that he should help her, for Tommy’s sake as well as his own. Tommy was that most unfortunate of relations, a poor cousin. “But if you find it, isn’t there a danger she’ll say you are the one who took it, and returned it because you got cold feet?”

  “Who would believe it?” she asked, in a thoroughly rhetorical spirit. No answer was necessary; Miss Warwick’s sterling reputation was defence enough. “In any case I was nowhere near her aunt all evening. She sat off with the older guests, you know. But I do remember looking across the room and noticing the necklace, for it tends to stand out, so big and gaudy. And Tommy had left a few moments earlier.

  “I know just when Sara took it too. As she was leaving she passed behind the sofa where Lady Belmont was sitting. As she leaned down over her shoulder to say goodnight, she straightened her aunt’s shawl. She took a little time to do it as the shawl kept slipping. She said something to her aunt. I wondered if she was whispering that Buckner had made his offer, for she looked excited. Then she and Buckner left with a few of the younger couples who were going on to some other diversion. Then a little later Lady Belmont began squawking that the necklace was gone, and that’s when the whole party went mad. So you have to help me, Carbury.”

  “But why me?”

  “Obviously Tommy can’t attend the ball. You are his cousin. I don’t know who else to turn to. I can’t ask any of my relatives — you know how righteous they are. They wouldn’t be willing to do anything a trifle out of line. I assumed you would prefer to keep this wretched affair as close as possible. And I don’t know anyone else so — so dashing as you, yet fairly honest along with it.”

  “Fairly honest — why thank you, Miss Warwick.”

  “Well, you are honest, but certainly not a prude. You’ve done a few madcap things. That pig race down Bond Street, and scrapes at university. But mainly you like Tommy, don’t you? He is your cousin. You cannot want to see his reputation ruined at such a young age.”

  “He’s hardly a boy.”

  “No, he’s twenty-two. My age actually, but he seems younger. If you won’t do it for Tommy, think of the disgrace to your family.”

  “I suppose I must help, but I don’t like this scheme of searching Sara’s room.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do that. I’ll do it myself. You just accompany me to the ball and I’ll do the searching.”

  Nicholas just sat a moment, looking at her silently. He was well aware of Elizabeth’s do-gooding propensities. This was a new side of her. He had wondered how she and Tommy became such good friends. He even wondered, in his pride, if it was because Tommy was his cousin, but he realized now that she was as madcap as Tommy.

  “If you’re caught and the necklace isn’t there, you’ll look nohow, Miss Warwick.”

  “My plan is to sneak up and search unobserved. It should be possible at a busy ball. She wouldn’t have got rid of it yet.”

  “If she took it, which I find difficult to believe, then she took it for a reason. She couldn’t wear it in public. She must plan to sell it.”

  “She couldn’t do that so quickly. She would have to find someone to buy it. I’m sure she still has it, but we must act quickly, before she does sell it. Now who might she sell it to?”

  He felt a little curdling of excitement. The Season had been rather dull thus far. No irresistible beauties on offer. Helping a maiden in distress appealed to him. And of course that young cawker of a Tommy Gower hadn’t stolen the necklace. Miss Warwick would no more lie about a thing like that than she’d tie her garter in public.

  Something odd was going on, but he couldn’t believe Sara had stolen the necklace. To do such a thing, she would have to be in some dreadful trouble. If so much as a whisper of scandal touched her, she could say goodbye to attaching Lord Buckner. Did she have gambling debts? Or — no, more likely some rogue got hold of some indiscreet billets doux she had written and was holding her to ransom.

  “She wouldn’t take it to a jeweler to sell,” he said. “The Belmont necklace is a famous piece. No good jeweler would touch it. In fact, he’d notify the police, or the insurance people if someone tried to sell it to him.”

  “I doubt Sara would know that. I think we should just drop in at a few of the jewelry shops and make discreet enquiries, not mentioning Sara by name, of course. It won’t take long.”

  She turned a smile on him and patted his fingers. “I knew you were the one to help me,” she said, and pulled the draw cord. “Tell your coachman we’ll begin at Rundell and Bridge.”

  “You forget, Miss Warwick, I told you I have an appointment this morning. I am already late.”

  “But you will help me, won’t you?” She gazed up at him with her big blue eyes, full of trust and hope. Her cheeks were flushed with emotion,
her full lower lip quivering. It brought back a flash of memory of five years before, when she had assumed he wanted to marry her.

  He knew he had behaved badly that day, and often regretted that he hadn’t handled that affair more adroitly. He had been pretty green himself at the time, only two and twenty. To her credit, Miss Warwick had behaved like a perfect lady. Not a word had been uttered against him, and he knew how her friends must have pestered her for an explanation for their interrupted friendship. She had been on the brink of tears that day, and she looked the same now. Perhaps he owed her something. Besides, he hated to see a woman cry.

  “Oh very well, but I’m sure there is some misunderstanding,” he said. “Some perfectly simple explanation. Has Tommy been arrested?”

  “No but Lady Belmont had spoken to the police. She gave them Tommy’s name and they quizzed Auntie. They said they only wished to question him, which sounds as if Lady Belmont hasn’t actually laid a charge yet. I managed to get word to Tommy, and he’s gone into hiding.”

  “How did you get word to him?”

  “I sent a note around to his flat. His footman brought a reply to let me know Tommy had received it and taken action.”

  “I wonder if that was wise. Flight is usually taken as proof of guilt.”

  “It’s better than being arrested and locked up in gaol.” Nick lowered the window and called up to his coachman, “Rundell and Bridge. And spring ‘em.”

  Chapter Two

  “Lord Carbury!” the clerk exclaimed, metaphorically rubbing his hands in glee when his lordship entered the shop. The clerk’s hopeful smile suggested to Elizabeth that Nick was a good customer. She wondered what female he had been showering with jewels. “You have come about the diamond —”

  Carbury flashed the clerk a warning glare and cut him off in mid-speech. “No, Perkins, not about my diamond cravat pin this morning. I am interested in rubies today. A ruby necklace, to be precise.”

  Perkins turned his gaze to Miss Warwick, and a confused frown took possession of his face. He did not recognize the lady, but he recognized the type, which was decidedly not his lordship’s usual type. “Have you had anyone trying to sell you a ruby necklace today?” he asked, to forestall further questions.