Love's Harbinger Read online

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed that the places of concealment in the single room were few. There were three chairs, the large cubbyhole desk, a coat tree, and a row of cupboards along one wall. The lantern showed her the outlines of these furnishings, and she went directly to the desk. She was pleasantly surprised when the drawers slid open easily, but when she looked in at their emptiness, she knew why Elwood hadn’t bothered to lock them. Next she went to the cupboards. The lamp resting on the desk behind her threw long, menacing shadows on the wall. The office was perfectly still; you could hear a pin drop or your own breaths suspended on the air. The cupboard held some record books, which she took to the desk to peruse. She was reading a list of contributors to the Anglo-Gold Investment Company when she heard a soft sound in the hall beyond the locked door, and her heart raced in fear. The sound was so slight that she at first mistook it for a stray cat or a gust of wind. As she listened, the sounds came closer and then stopped at the door.

  Was it Nubbins, come to see if she was safe? She was about to call when it darted into her head that it might be Mr. Elwood. She hastily blew out the lantern and crouched behind the desk. She could feel the current from the open window and gauged her chances of getting out before he came in. They were slight, as she would require the chair to reach the window and a key was already turning in the lock. There was nothing for it but to stand up and face him, then. Yet when the key did not open the door easily, she hesitated. It might be anyone . . . a common thief who would slide a knife between her ribs before Nubbins came to her aid. The key turned, the door opened, and someone came in, closed the door quietly behind him, and turned the lock. The locking of the door was more frightening than the rest. He wasn’t locking himself in. Did he already know she was there? A cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she felt her skin turn to gooseflesh.

  From her hiding place behind the desk, she saw a dark shadow move and realized that someone was coming toward her but so softly she couldn’t gauge the direction. Even the shadow had disappeared. Her breath caught in her lungs while she waited, looking helplessly at the window, which was too high for her to jump out of, and then at the locked door, where the unknown person blocked her exit. It seemed she waited a long time, wondering why the person didn’t move, didn’t do something or say something. Who could it be? Elwood wouldn’t have to act so secretively. Was it—could it possibly be Thomas, come to try to extricate himself? Her nerves were screaming, and if that unknown presence didn’t do something very soon, she would scream, too.

  When the intruder at last moved, he moved so silently and swiftly it caught her unawares. The first intimation she had of it was the feel of cold steel against her temple. It froze her to the very marrow of her bones. “Nice and easy now, stand up, and no tricks.” The voice was soft as silk—a mere susurrus, low-pitched and as menacing as the pistol muzzle that seared her flesh.

  “Light the lantern,” he said. “Let’s have a look at you, miss.” How did he know she had a lantern? How did he know she was a “miss”—he hadn’t touched her. The man was magic.

  She rose, trembling, and reached for the lantern. “I don’t have a tinderbox,” she said in a nervous, breathless voice. But she had the lantern in her hand and realized it made an excellent weapon. Without further delay, she raised it and struck out at her captor. She knew exactly where his head was, for he had just spoken. So how was it possible she missed him and swiped empty air with the lantern?

  A light laugh floated from behind her—from a different direction than before—yet the pistol was still against her temple. “Tch, tch, Lady Faith! Mind your manners!” Were there two of them? No, only one had come in. How did he know who she was? Her heart pinched in fear as she realized that whoever was here she was no match for him. The man was directly behind her now; so near she felt the heat of his body against her back. She felt one arm go around her waist, not with any amorous intent, but only to feel around the desk’s surface for the tinderbox, which he shoved toward her fingers.

  “Light the lantern,” he ordered.

  Her fingers trembled so badly she had to make three strikes of the steel against flint before she could ignite the charred linen and then the lantern. Again that long arm brushed past her waist, picked up the lantern, lifted it high, and then stood back. Feeling as if she were in a nightmare, she turned slowly to see who she had to deal with and found herself staring into the slightly slanted yellow eyes of Mr. Delamar. They glowed like the eyes of a wild animal in the dark. His high cheekbones stood out prominently in the shaft of light that shone up from the lantern. She could even distinguish the long, thin scar. He wore a perfectly diabolical expression.

  “You!” she spat contemptuously.

  “Good evening, Lady Faith.” He performed a brief parody of a bow. “You must be lost. I didn’t expect to see you so far from the West End. I trust I didn’t frighten you?”

  “You scared me to death!”

  “Surely you exaggerate—you look more lively than when we first met. A little fear is becoming to you, and good for the constitution as well. Are you alone?”

  As the fear dissipated, she assumed her more usual façade of stiff politeness. “The groom is waiting outside.’’

  “I am impressed at your daring. Lord Thomas must be something quite out of the ordinary to lead you so far from the path of propriety. Hiding his light under a thimble, no doubt,” he added with an ironical smile. “I expect we’re both looking for the same thing. Did you have any luck?”

  “No.”

  “Where have you looked?”

  “In the desk and the cupboards. There’s nowhere else to search.”

  “They didn’t waste much blunt in putting up a good front, did they?”

  “That seems to be the style in business nowadays,” she answered tartly, remembering his own office.

  He gave her a lazy smile and said, “Your point, madam. I would have space about me that is lean, to misquote the Bard.” He then proceeded to search those same places Faith had, with more thoroughness but with no better success. “I’d say offhand he doesn’t plan to return. The only thing he left behind is the record of purchasers and the lease for the office. A three-month lease. That pretty well tells the story—it expires the first of June, so Elwood has flown as well as Lord Thomas.” She glared at him, but did not deign to point out his error. “Come, I’ll take you home.”

  “I am not going home. I am on my way to a rout party.”

  She picked up the lantern.

  He placed the records under one arm, put his other hand on her elbow, and led her out, leaving the door unlocked behind them. “A rout party? I admire your courage, ma’am. Grace under pressure is an admirable trait. Is Lady Lynne waiting in the carriage? She must be planning to break our appointment.”

  “What appointment?” Faith demanded suspiciously.

  “We have planned a tête-à-tête for this evening. I had some hopes you were to be included. I’m running a little late,” he said, and pulled out a pocket watch. “Eight twenty-five.”

  Faith looked at the clock on the wall and corrected him. “It’s only eight-twenty.”

  He didn’t even bother to look at the clock. “It’s wrong. My watch is always right. I lead a split-second life,” he said, and returned the timepiece to his pocket. It had an unusual fob that looked like a twisted piece of some dark metal. “I’ll return you to Lady Lynne.”

  “She isn’t with me. I’m going with a friend—I have to stop at her place.” She looked at him uncertainly, disliking to ask a favor. “Actually, my aunt doesn’t know I’m here. I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell her.”

  “Then you should treat me more civilly, milady. I don’t usually perform favors for people who try to bash me over the head.”

  “I didn’t know who you were.”

  His feline eyes shot a mocking smile at her. “Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

  “Yes, I would have taken more careful aim, Mr. Delama
r.”

  They reached her carriage, and he opened the door. “You still wouldn’t have hit me.” He laughed. “Beau Douro trained his guerrillas better than that.”

  Her head flew up in surprise. “What? Were you with Wellington in the Peninsula?” she asked.

  “I’ve been many places, including Spain. Do try, if you can, to close your mouth. It is unflattering that you are so shocked at my being an—a soldier. Besides, open-mouthed ladies look so very witless, don’t you agree?”

  She closed her mouth, only to pull her lower lip between her teeth. Faith had the greatest admiration for military gentlemen, and she knew that those who had been with Wellington in the Peninsular War had been outstandingly fearless. “Not shocked, only surprised,” she said. Embarrassment lent a softer tone to her voice and a becoming air of uncertainty to her manner. “I should have guessed by your complexion . . .”

  “Ah, no, that only told you I am part blackamoor.”

  “What was your position in the army?”

  “I always like to be in the forefront of any endeavor when trouble is brewing,” he answered with studied obtuseness.

  Not an officer then, she surmised, and changed the subject. “How did you know I was there in the office? And how did you know it was me? Even before I lit the lantern, you used my name.”

  “I smelled the burning oil. Lanterns don’t light up by themselves, and when I was close to you, I recognized your perfume—a light lilac scent. Of course many ladies use that fragrance, but you did speak before I was certain it was you.”

  “You seemed to move around so quickly, too, like a cat.”

  “As I said, I am trained in warfare. Even a lady has been known to pull a trigger, so I was a little cautious. I am sorry if I frightened you, Lady Faith. I’ll let you get on to your party now. Your aunt will tell you what plans I have to retrieve—er, the money,” he finished, and was sorry to terminate their conversation on that reminder of Lord Thomas.

  She pokered up immediately. “Good evening, Mr. Delamar.”

  He closed the door and the carriage drew away. Her stop had made her late in calling on Mrs. Coates, but by luck the dame had not left home yet, so Lady Faith avoided the unpleasantness of having to enter the party unattended. It was bad enough without that. She was the object of much interest, a little ill-concealed pity, but no rush of attention from chivalrous gentlemen. It was mainly dowagers who quizzed her about Lord Thomas. Her rehearsed speech was repeated so often that she was tired of it. In the end, she took a glass of wine and slipped into the vacant library to await the time when she could reasonably ask Mrs. Coates to leave.

  She went to the farthest, darkest corner of the room and sat alone in the shadows, thinking. Mr. Elwood and Thomas had run off. It seemed she was the only woman in London who believed Thomas was innocent, but she still clung to the notion that Thomas had been tricked into behaving so foolishly. It was Elwood who was the creator of this wretched scheme. The whole idea was his; Thomas had said he had only been invited in to permit Mr. Elwood access to people who could afford to buy the shares—and possibly to be the scapegoat when Elwood fled? This new idea began to intrigue her. Of course, Thomas was a scapegoat! When he found out he’d been used, he’d come back and tell the whole story. Was it part of the plan for him never to come back, then? How could Mr. Elwood be sure of it?

  It came to her like a horrible bolt of lightning. The only way to be sure Thomas never told the truth was to do away with him! Elwood meant to kill Thomas! That was why he had sent him out of town with his trunk. He was going to lure him to some abandoned spot and murder him. And here she sat at a stupid rout party, wasting her time. She shot up from her seat and looked helplessly around the empty room. She must get home now, at once, and tell her aunt what she had figured out. She hurried toward the door and nearly capsized Mr. Delamar as he came in.

  Chapter Three

  “So here you are!” Mr. Delamar exclaimed. “I had begun to worry you’d gone haring off on some new mad scheme.”

  Surprise lent a sharp edge to her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. Your aunt told me where you’d gone.”

  “But how did you get in?”

  A satirical smile lifted his brows. “I was invited, ma’am. Some people, you see, mistake me for a gentleman. Not all the ladies have your discernment.”

  She realized she’d been rude, and even regretted it, but the more important matter prevented her from wasting time on social niceties. “I have to go home at once.”

  “Your aunt had a much better idea. She suggested I act as your partner, to inform the world you were considering jilting Thomas.”

  “I have no intention of jilting Thomas! I must go home at once.”

  “I see you have some monumental new notion you want to share with your aunt. I am completely in her confidence. Tell me instead—while we dance. Just one dance. I promised Lady Lynne.”

  The beginning strains of a waltz filtered along the corridor. She looked at Mr. Delamar and saw such determination that she decided to humor him. He was an immensely determined young man, and if she could convince him of Thomas’s innocence and of his danger, he would be a great help. Who better than a bloodhound to chase after that sly fox, Elwood, and bring him to justice? The Harbinger would later do an excellent job of explaining Thomas’s innocence.

  “Very well,” she said, and put her hand on his arm. When they entered the ballroom, the hostess darted toward them. It was not Lady Faith she was honoring, but Mr. Delamar. “Guy, I was wondering where you’d got to! I was afraid you’d only come to jot down a few notes for your paper and run off again without dancing. I have half a dozen young ladies eager to meet you.”

  “All in good time, Mrs. DeGrue. Lady Faith has promised me this waltz.”

  “Beware of him!” Mrs. DeGrue smiled spitefully at Faith. “He will pick all your secrets out of your brain and publish them in his wicked paper. Such secrets as you have, too, Lady Faith! I look forward to reading about them.” She went along, laughing, to the next couple.

  Faith kept her tongue between her teeth, but the effort caused her to turn pink.

  “Don’t pay her any heed,” Mr. Delamar said, and led her on to the floor.

  “I don’t waltz very well,” Faith told him bluntly. “I was only given permission at Almack’s to try it two weeks ago, and Thomas doesn’t waltz.”

  He inclined his head and smiled. “Are you trying to confirm my opinion of Lord Thomas’s poor sense? The waltz is the greatest thing to come along since damped gowns.”

  “And equally unhealthy,” she said stiffly.

  “Are you speaking of physical health, Lady Faith, or moral? I admit I was considering the damped gowns from an observer’s point of view. For ladies, they are unhealthy in winter, but a waltz can do no harm in any season—to physical well-being, I mean.”

  Faith became aware that many people were watching them as they danced. She was no longer under any misapprehension that she was the one of interest. They were staring at Mr. Delamar, and not with disapproval.

  “Well?” he asked. “Come now, I expect a counterargument, Lady Faith. Surely you didn’t call the waltz unhealthy without some substantiating evidence.”

  On those few occasions when she waltzed, Faith kept careful track of the count. One, two, three—one, two, three. She tried to think of a reply and lost track of the count, which caused her foot to come down rather hard on his. “There, you see, I told you it was dangerous,” she exclaimed.

  “No, you only said unhealthy. There is a difference; danger is more enjoyable. You must pardon my rattling on so nonsensically. What was it you wanted to say about Thomas?” He looked at her eyes, large with fear, and felt a quickening of interest.

  “I think Mr. Elwood is going to murder him.”

  “What?”

  It was surprising enough that he missed a beat and she landed on his foot again.

  “It stands to reason. He only brought Thomas
into his scheme to reach people who could buy the stocks and to make him the scapegoat when he ran off with the money.” She explained her thinking in some detail, which played awful havoc with their waltz.

  She expected an outright contradiction and was gratified when he heard her out thoughtfully, asking a few questions to draw her out. “It’s not impossible,” he admitted, “but in any case, I shouldn’t think the deed has been done yet. Lord Thomas left alone this morning. I did some snooping around and learned that Elwood was seen at his office late this evening. He’s miles behind Lord Thomas. That’s why I went there for a look around. If you had cooperated with me this afternoon, we’d have Elwood under lock and key by now. Why didn’t you tell me you knew where his office was?”

  “Because you believed Thomas was guilty. How could I help you persecute him? He’s my fiancé.”

  “I’m not persecuting anyone. I’m after the truth. That’s what makes the Harbinger rather special, if you can forgive my boasting a little. Well, the thing to do is to go after them.”

  “Have you any idea where they’ve gone?”

  “Only an idea, but also an idea where to discover more clues now that the evening traffic is quiet. We must go now. Who is your chaperone? I’ll make your excuses.”

  “Mrs. Coates came with me. I have to deliver her home.”

  “Leave her your carriage. I’ll take you to Berkeley Square.”

  “There won’t be any cabs in the street at this hour,” she pointed out.

  Again that satirical light burned in his eyes. “I skimp on the necessities and allow myself the luxury of a carriage.”

  With a memory of his miserable flat above the paper’s office, she was by no means sure he could afford a carriage, and if he drove one, she hadn’t seen it on Tottenham Court Road. “I didn’t see your carriage at Elwood’s office.”

  “I left if a block away. A good tip for you to follow next time you are illegally entering an establishment. I saw yours, which is why I was at pains not to enter by the front door and so alert your groom.