Reluctant Bride Read online

  “No, Maisie, you think if you make enough fuss about it, I will go down the hall, but I won't, so you might as well sit and pulsate in peace."

  She grumbled on for several minutes, while I interrupted from time to time to mention that poor Mitzi had not even had her dinner. If that wretched Reuben fed her anything, it would be wine. I suggested we retire, but my aunt had a trump up her sleeve.

  “I won't be able to sleep a wink, all up in the air as we are. Till I learn whether we are to go alone on the stage tomorrow ... And he might forget to leave off the paste necklace, you know, Lizzie."

  I thought he would remember it in the morning, if not before. In fact, I did not see how he could have forgotten it for so long, jingling right in his pocket as it was. One would think a gentleman would bring it to us, and apologize while he was about it. I delayed making my preparations for bed, on the watch for an apologetic tap at the door. There was none. At length, Maisie's whining got on my nerves to such an extent I agreed to tap at Sir Edmund's door, before she harangued me, too, into insomnia. I would just ask him if he meant to leave the necklace with me, or keep it. It was a paltry excuse to be sure, but it was not my only one. I also wished to thank him for his attempts at help, and to say goodbye. Because he chose to act as a savage was no reason we must behave as badly.

  I took a deep breath, screwed up my courage and went out the door.

  Chapter 7

  I was half relieved when there was no reply to my knock. He was having a few glasses of ale before coming upstairs. He might even drink himself into a good enough mood to come to us to apologize. I raised my knuckles to give a second tap, ready to turn and walk away if he did not respond immediately. A scuffling sound within alerted me he was there. He called something—"bring it in,” it sounded like, which made me think he had ordered wine sent to his room. It also darted into my head he meant to bring it along to share with Maisie and myself. A bottle of wine would form a decent excuse to cover any little embarrassment he might feel. I was close to being in charity with the man, to find him so biddable. I prepared a bright smile in reward.

  I hesitated to go in, for a gentleman will sometimes ask a male servant to enter when he is not quite prepared for a young lady's company. I knocked again.

  “Come in,” he called, his voice taking on its customary impatience.

  I opened the door wide and walked all unsuspecting into a scene of debauchery. He had his jacket and boots off, and while I did not see the trollop from belowstairs, I saw a corner of black skirt sticking out from behind the clothespress. I could not discover whether it hung on a chair or her back, but I could see well enough of a pair of dainty black patent slippers kicked off in the middle of the floor, lending a wildly abandoned air to the place. The wine had already arrived. It awaited their pleasure on a side table.

  I was so interested in all this evidence of wantoness that I neglected to look at his face for a few seconds. When I looked up from the black slippers, where my eyes kept returning, I saw him glaring at me with the frustrated look of a baited animal. The lines between nose and mouth were etched deep, the lips clenched so hard the cords in his neck stood out. They were visible right down to his clavicle, for he had his cravat off and his collar open. I was vastly relieved I had not come two minutes later, or God knows what I might have witnessed.

  Sir Edmund was speechless. He just glared, mute as a rabbit, but not nearly so timid-looking. I could think of no words to suit the peculiar situation myself. I looked, then heard a shrill laugh come out of my mouth. Horrified, I raised my fingers to try to hold it in. Without making a coherent sound, I turned and fled down the hallway to the safety of Maisie's room. I was laughing so hard by the time I got inside, she could not understand what ailed me.

  “What happened?” she kept asking, two or three times. I had to have a glass of water before I was sufficiently recovered to tell her.

  “He had a woman in his room—undressed!"

  That caused her to open up her eyes. “Glory be to God, you don't mean it!"

  “Indeed I do."

  “He'll be so ashamed he'll not show his face to us again."

  “Not to worry, Auntie. I have no thought now of letting him off without thanking him most ceremoniously for all his help. I shall ask too whether he still has the necklace, or if he has given it to someone."

  “You're chirping merry now, I see."

  “As merry as a grig in June. The great misogamist, Sir Edmund Blount, caught barefooted with a lightskirt, after all his fine talk of hating women."

  “He never said he hated women, only marriage. Any man enjoys an occasional frolic—especially a bachelor."

  “You have become very lenient in your morality, Auntie. Next you will be telling me you approve of it."

  “If he must cut up a lark, he is wise to do it away from home. I do approve of that, at least."

  “What I would like to know is when he arranged the details of it. Good gracious, he hadn't more than a few seconds alone with her. He must be quick. But it was likely done when he went downstairs after I gave him a good tongue-lashing. Well, Auntie, I am very much afraid you are going to have a sleepless night. We will get nothing settled with him till morning. I wonder if they stay the whole night, these women."

  “It is not proper for you to conjecture on such matters, Lizzie."

  “That elastic morality of yours has snapped back into place, I see."

  There was a sharp knocking at the door. “Did you order anything?” I asked her.

  “No, nothing."

  I opened the door to see Sir Edmund standing there with his jacket thrown on, not buttoned, and a cravat very much awry. He had taken time to pull on his boots. “May I come in?” he asked, then barged past me without awaiting an answer.

  I peeked my head out the door to glance down the hall. “You are alone?” I asked pointedly.

  “As you see,” he replied, trying to sound offhand. He turned to Maisie, ignoring me. “How does the ankle go on, Maisie? Not too painful, I hope?"

  “The swelling has started to go out of it,” she admitted, happy to avoid the subject she knew I wished to raise. “I'll be ready to hit the road again by morning. Lizzie tells me you are leaving us."

  “Certainly not! Where did she get that idea?” he asked, assuming a pose of astonishment.

  “You expressed the intention of not sharing a carriage with my dog,” I reminded him, while more interesting phrases churned round inside my head. His wary regard told me he was well aware of it.

  “No, no. I was joking, of course. I thought you knew it."

  “No, Sir Edmund, I never look for a joke from you."

  “I have every intention of going to Fareham. I came to ask at what hour you would like to leave in the morning."

  “You need not have interrupted your—business?—only for that,” I told him. “We have no notion of leaving before dawn, or anything of the sort."

  “I was not busy,” he said, in a flat, bored voice.

  “Then I expect you are very eager to return to your room to get busy. Pray do not let us detain you. Eight, shall we say? Or perhaps a later hour would suit you better ....” I suggested helpfully.

  “Eight is fine. Let us meet for breakfast at eight belowstairs."

  “Agreed. We shall let you go now,” I said, taking his elbow to pilot him to the door. He shook me off.

  “I thought a glass of wine might help your aunt sleep more comfortably,” he said.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Maisie answered.

  “I shall order us some, Auntie. Sir Edmund has company. He will not like to keep his guest waiting."

  “There is no one in my room,” he said, looking off toward the window, to avoid looking at me. I did not refute the statement verbally, but only looked all my disbelief at him. “The person you saw just stepped in in passing, to see if I had had any luck in finding Greenie."

  “She reads minds, does she, that she knew you were looking for him?"

/>   “I mentioned it to her earlier,” he said quickly, then remembered, I believe, having told me he had not time to ask her. “I mean—later. Not the first time I spoke to her."

  “Ah, yes, that would be about two minutes before she popped in to see if you had found him yet."

  Having no reply, he ignored it. “I had ordered wine, and meant to offer her a glass. I mistook you for a servant when you knocked. You should not have rushed off so precipitately, Miss Braden. My guest took the idea you did not wish for her acquaintance."

  “She was correct. A gentleman does not customarily introduce ladies to such females as your guest, if I am not mistaken."

  “You judge severely. There was nothing amiss with the girl that I could see."

  “Indeed? I should take it sadly amiss if any chance caller of mine, a virtual stranger of the opposite sex, decided to cast off his clothing in my chamber, but then I am old-fashioned."

  Another knock sounded at the door. I was seized with a wild hope the hussy had come after him, but it was a servant with wine. The only manner in which the order could have been given was through the hussy. Sir Edmund had not time to have pounced downstairs and ordered it himself. It served to divert the conversation to wine, then to the necklace and our plans for the morrow.

  “I have been giving a good deal of thought to how we should proceed,” he said in a businesslike way.

  “When did you have time?” I asked. Both Maisie and he glared.

  “After I left you. I thought it might be interesting if we go to Weston Braden's place and say nothing of the missing necklace. Your aunt thinks he might be involved in this imbroglio, Miss Braden. I think he is involved in it. I suggest we go and present him with the diamond necklace copy, and say nothing about any theft."

  “A single glance will tell him it is a copy,” I pointed out.

  “Not if genuine diamonds have been placed in the settings. It is the stones that give it away. The metal work is well enough."

  “Have I missed something here? Has someone found the diamonds, or where are we to get these substitutes?"

  “From a diamond merchant,” he answered blandly. “One who deals in old stones. The cut was different in those old days. Bartlett, in Winchester here, is as good a man as we will find outside of London. He won't have just the proper sizes and shapes, of course, but if he can stick in real gems of some sort, we can present it to Weston Braden without blushing."

  “I don't see the point of it,” Maisie said. No more did I. It sounded perfectly ludicrous.

  “My thinking is this: if we just present him the copy, he glances at it and says it is obviously a fake. But if we give him a necklace with genuine diamonds in it, he is going to begin to wonder just what it is Greenie stole for him. He will want to check it out, compare them at least."

  “I still don't see the point,” Maisie said.

  “You mean we should follow him when he goes to make this comparison, to find out where he has got mine hidden?” I asked.

  “Something of the sort. If we are there, we can snoop around and look for it at least. He can hardly claim what you present to him is a fake when it contains real diamonds, unless he is willing to say how he knows. Even to see his face when you give it to him would tell us something. Unless the man is a professional actor, some traces of guilt will be in evidence."

  “He is right, Maisie. I have just been noticing how difficult it is for a guilty man to try to act natural."

  “A con man's game,” Maisie said, choosing not to understand me. Sir Edmund directed a cool, dark eye at me, while he reined in his temper. “It's worth a try at least,” she ventured. “What does it cost us?"

  “A mere bagatelle! Only the price of a whole set of diamonds,” I answered.

  “I shan't buy them, just borrow or rent them, with a little something down,” Blount said.

  “How long would it take to get this substitution done?” I asked.

  “A few hours, perhaps; if Bartlett has any stones he can stick in, the actual work won't take longer. We could be at Fareham before dark. I think it is our best bet,” Sir Edmund said, looking from one to the other of us for our reaction.

  “It is a great deal of trouble to put you to,” I felt obliged to mention. Really I had never expected this degree of cooperation.

  The intriguing thing is that he did not even look put upon, as he usually did for far less bother than this scheme entailed. In fact, he looked humble and, when we agreed to the scheme, relieved. I suppose between my dog and his lightskirt, he was feeling guilty. I disliked to raise the subject of Mitzi when he was being so very helpful, but it weighed on my mind, her being with that drunken old Reuben.

  “You look concerned. Do you not care for my plan, ma'am?” he asked, as we began our second glass of wine.

  “It is not the plan I am thinking about. It is Mitzi."

  All traces of humility and relief vanished from his countenance. “I hope you are not implying we ought to go after her tonight? I, for one, have had more than enough excitement and activity for one day."

  “Poor Mitzi,” I said, drawing a long sigh and gazing forlornly out the window. “I can almost imagine I hear her, howling and whimpering as Reuben beats her. I know I shan't sleep a wink. But Sir Edmund is fatigued with his busy evening. Do not let us detain you longer, sir."

  He bounced to his feet. “Good evening, ladies. I hope you both sleep well. I know I mean to. I shan't leave my bed this night.” I silently cocked a brow at him, but managed to suppress my smile.

  His lips clenched in a tight line and did not open to deliver any further words.

  Chapter 8

  Sir Edmund looked positively hagged when he met us in the parlor at eight next morning. He also looked extremely ashamed of himself, as he greeted us holding Mitzi in the crook of his arm.

  “Sir Edmund! You got her back! How—when?” I was overcome with emotion. I held my arms out to receive her, but she turned her head, looked up, and licked Sir Edmund's chin lovingly, showing no inclination to come to me. She, who had always had an instinctive dislike of men. I often thought it was why Beattie gave her to me, because she held him in such contempt.

  “Last night,” he said casually, as though he had done no more than walk to the door and whistle for her.

  “Did she run away from Reuben?"

  “Lord no, I had to go all the ... I drove out and picked her up."

  “Edmund! I didn't really mean for you to do that."

  “I had nothing else to do,” he made a point of telling me.

  “So much trouble. Thank you.” I gave him my prettiest smile in gratitude, then tried once more to retrieve my dog. She clung with her nails tenaciously to his sleeve, crouching back in the crook of his elbow.

  “You shouldn't have let her bearlead you into so much trouble,” Maisie scolded.

  “What have you done to her? How did you bring her round your thumb? She does not usually take to men,” I said, still having no luck to get her into my arms.

  “We have reached a mutually satisfactory arrangement. She don't bite me, and I don't kick her.” As he spoke, he massaged her neck with gentle strokes of the fingers. No doubt he had seen me lull her by the same means, and was quick-witted enough to have noticed it. He put her on the floor, where she capered happily about his boots, still spurning my advances.

  When breakfast came, I offered her bits of bacon to try to lure her from his chair. She lifted her nose and looked disdainfully down it at me and my poor bribes. “Are you not eating this morning, Sir Edmund?” I asked him.

  “We have had breakfast already, Mitzi and I, and our morning constitutional. As soon as you ladies have finished eating, we shall go to Bartlett and see what he can do for us. Will you tackle the trip, Maisie?"

  “I'll not undertake any unnecessary walking yet. I'll sit quietly here in the parlor with the newspapers. Just pamper myself."

  “I bet you are not pampered at home,” he replied, which set her smiling at me.

&nbs
p; “Having alienated my dog's affections, are you now starting on my aunt's?” I demanded.

  “That's it. I figure two out of three conquests is the best I can hope for."

  When we had finished eating, we rose to go. My pug frisked at Blount's heels, hinting to be carried. “You stay with Maisie,” I ordered.

  “I don't mind if she tags along,” Edmund offered. I was so angry with my pet that I shoved her inside the door and closed it. I received a wounded look from my companion for my trouble.

  “Did you get to bed at all last night?” I asked him, for I really felt some extraordinary consideration due him for getting Mitzi back.

  “Don't start carping on that again, Lizzie,” he said angrily.

  "What?

  “All right, I confess. You caught me with a woman of pleasure in my room. You know I am a bachelor. My doings are public knowledge at Woldwood, where I live. I enjoy a good reputation. Occasionally, when I am out of town..."

  “Sir Edmund, I didn't mean that! I was only worried your going after Mitzi had kept you up most of the night. You don't have to apologize to me for—for anything. It is none of my concern. I was only teasing you last night."

  He was ready to slay himself for having misunderstood and confessed. He looked remarkably like a little boy who has inadvertently admitted his sins when he was not even suspected. “I misunderstood the nature of your question. You expressed such rampant interest in the matter last night..."

  “Not interest, only surprise. Pray, let us change the subject. Did you get any sleep?"

  “Demmed little. The mutt woke me before six."

  I could not resist. It was utterly unworthy, but my next question was, "Did you complete your transaction with the lightskirt?"

  “Bartlett's shop is this way,” he said, taking my elbow and turning me round a corner. “We'll walk. It is not far. No, I didn't, if you really care."

  I had thought he meant to ignore my question, had taken offense at it. I looked up to see him smiling down at me in the strangest way. It was an intimate smile. Significant, and very attractive. He could be a handsome man, if only he would let off scowling occasionally. “Mind you must keep a very sharp eye on me, Lizzie. I am inclined to stray when I am away from home."