Chapter Nine
T he next morning, Malcolm dug into his breakfast at Mrs. Robinson’s boarding house. The rooms he had rented were simple but clean and far more spacious than his quarters on board ship. The area of town was respectable, and his fellow tenants were all men of means. But by far, the best part of staying at the boarding house was the grub. He had not eaten this well in years. Taking another bite of ham, he picked up the newspaper.
Across from him, Mr. Deerfield looked up from the newspaper he was reading. “Commander Iveson, your name is in the paper this morning.” He folded the paper in half and slid it across the table to Malcolm. Deerfield tapped a finger about halfway down the page. “That’s you, Kingsbury, right?”
Malcolm nodded. He read where the man pointed. It appears that Lord Kingsbury has found a prospective bride. He was seen flirting and dancing with our favorite wallflower at the Holden ball. And she had his full attention as they strolled through St. James’s Square Monday afternoon. There is certainly something special about this dark-haired beauty. Malcolm shook his head. A couple of encounters with the lady and the gossips had them paired.
“Is that why you are in town? To find a wife?” Deerfield asked.
“Yes, in part,” Malcolm replied. It was his cover, and you never knew what information got back to what people.
Deerfield patted his ample belly. “Ah to be young. Don’t get yourself shackled to the first girl you meet on shore. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”
Malcolm winced at the cliché. The older man took the paper back and then tucked into his coddled eggs. Perhaps a shade over forty, the successful barrister was happy-go-lucky and seemed satisfied living as a bachelor. But it felt a little sad to Malcolm. As much as he hadn’t thought about marriage since his disastrous engagement to Bridget, he knew he wanted a family someday.
“Now, don’t you be filling this nice young man’s head with your nonsense, Archie.” Mrs. Robinson bustled into the room. “Commander Iveson, this just came for you.” She passed him a letter. “The boy who delivered it was dressed in some fancy livery.”
“Thank you.” Malcolm took the folded note. Flipping it over, he saw that it was sealed with wax and stamped with the Duke of Hartwick’s insignia. He took his knife and slit it open. Inside, in neat feminine scrawl, was an invitation from Lady Hartwick to dine. Please join us and a few good friends for dinner Thursday evening at eight o’clock.
Mrs. Robinson practically bounced on her toes, trying to peer over his shoulder. Could you even have the title of boarding house proprietress if you weren’t nosy? He folded the note in half and tucked it into his coat pocket.
Malcolm almost laughed out loud at the lady’s sigh as she stepped back, so he took pity on her. “It is a dinner invitation.”
She nodded sagely. “To the home of the young lady mentioned in the paper?”
“No. But I think she might be there.” He finished his tea, stood, and gave the proprietress a broad wink.
He whistled as he walked down the street to a morning meeting with his solicitors. It was not a meeting he was looking forward to, but one that was necessary.
He needed to stop ignoring his duties as Kingsbury, which had been so easy to do during his years at sea. Admiral Daniels had encouraged him to start thinking of himself as the Marquess of Kingsbury, and along with the name came the responsibility of the estate lands. He hadn’t been back to the wild, craggy coast of Dorset where his family was from, since the funerals for his parents and younger siblings. The memories so bleak that he had never wanted to return. Malcolm put a hand to the brim of his hat as a brisk wind threatened to blow it away when he turned the corner.
He needn’t have to step foot on the estate, but he did need to pay better attention to the reports from the land manager and from the solicitors. It was time to act as an adult, not a scared adolescent. This evening, he had plans to play cards at Fenwick’s house. The invitation had been a pleasant surprise and an opportunity to investigate. Tomorrow evening, he would get a chance to dine with Middleton’s daughter and her husband. And possibly, get to flirt with the pretty Adeline Amberley and see if she would tell him any more about what sort of auction her father and brother were planning.
*
Adeline paced back and forth across the plush carpet of Lucy’s drawing room. She smoothed her hand down the violet-colored satin of her gown. Inside her white gloves, her palms were sweaty. She simply must put the information she had overheard out of her head or she would never make it through the evening. No one had to know the awful truth. If she told Hartwick and Lucy, they would undoubtedly destroy her family. She flicked a glance over to where her brother spoke with Lord Hartwick. She would dare say that they were becoming friends. No, it was for the best not to tell, she assured herself, even as her conscience poked at her.
“Adeline, I am so glad you could come.” Lucy entered the room and crossed to buss her cheek. “Lord Kingsbury accepted my invitation to dine,” she whispered.
Adeline gripped her friend’s hand. “Were you behind the tidbit about the two of us in the paper?”
Lucy shook her head. “No, just good luck, I guess. But who cares about the rumors anymore when you have a perfect candidate right before you? Don’t you find him handsome?”
“Yes, of course. But we have only spoken a few times.” She shook her head. “What would he find alluring about me?”
“You must stop that. You are beautiful and far more interesting than all the insipid debutantes out there.”
Over her friend’s shoulder, Adeline saw Kingsbury walk into the room. He was dashing in his black evening wear, and his blond hair gleamed gold in the candlelight. Hartwick walked over to greet him. Kingsbury’s gaze swept the room, and as though he had been searching for her, his eyes locked with hers. The corners crinkled as he smiled. Adeline forgot her nerves—she forgot her name even—as his perusal warmed her cheeks.
Lucy turned her head to see what had caught Adeline’s attention. “Oh, he is a handsome one, isn’t he?” She grabbed Adeline’s hand and glided toward the two men.
Adeline stumbled in surprise. Lucy was quite strong, and Adeline tried to keep up as Lucy dragged her across the room to Lord Kingsbury. A wild giggle escaped at the picture she must make, being pulled along like a rag doll. Truly, Lucy’s enthusiasm was the worst—and best—thing about her friend.
“Lord Kingsbury, we are so glad you could join us this evening,” Lucy greeted him.
“Thank you for inviting me, Your Grace.” He bowed over her hand. “A pleasure to see you, Lady Amberley. I hoped you would be in attendance tonight.”
“Good evening, Lord Kingsbury.” Adeline offered him a smile.
George came over and greeted Lord Kingsbury enthusiastically. Hartwick offered him a drink, and before she could decide what to say next, Kingsbury was whisked away by the two men. Another couple and their daughter arrived, and Lucy excused herself to greet them. Left standing in the middle of the room by herself, Adeline wandered over to the window to look out at the moon. It was a waxing gibbous tonight, three-quarters full and shining bright in a clear sky.
She wished that her thoughts were as clear as the night sky tonight. What should she do about the artifacts? Certainly, objects of that nature were meant for a museum. Had her father stolen them off that ship? Should she tell George about the men who had threatened their father? Was George involved in the theft?
“It seems to me that no one should look so distressed staring at such a lovely moon,” a deep voice commented.
Adeline whirled around to find Kingsbury directly behind her.
“Champagne?” He held out a glass.
“I’m not distressed. Merely thinking.” Adeline took a gulp of wine and immediately regretted it when the bubbles tickled her nose.
“Cheers.” Kingsbury clinked his glass against hers. He stepped closer to the window. “The man in the moon is missing an eye tonight.”
Adeline rolled her eyes at his jest. She turned to look out again. “And a bit of his mouth as well. Don’t worry, his smile will be complete in three days.”
“I had a feeling you would know all about him.” He sipped his champagne and gazed up at the sky. “When I was a child, I used to talk to the man in the moon when I felt lonely.”
“I did, too.” She glanced over at him. “I especially liked the bit about him being made of cheese. I love cheese. I dreamt about traveling to the moon and sitting there with a little paring knife, gorging on cheese.”
“And how did you plan to get there, I wonder.”
“By air balloon, of course.”
“Of course. Quite logical.” He bumped her shoulder with his as he chuckled quietly.
“Dinner is served,” Lucy’s butler, Mr. Townson intoned.
Kingsbury winged out his elbow. “Shall we?”
Adeline glanced around the room, but it appeared that it was to be an informal evening. Everyone wandered out of the drawing room in small groups of two and three. Another reason she loved Lucy and Hartwick was that they didn’t stand on ceremony. She slid her hand onto Kingsbury’s arm, and they made their way to the dining room, ambling behind the other guests.
“How are you feeling, Lady Amberley?” Kingsbury asked.
“Better than the last time you saw me, thank you.” She was still embarrassed that he had caught her at such a vulnerable moment. He had been so kind and attentive.
“Good to hear. I worried about what had made you so upset.”
“Oh, nothing. I’m fine,” she replied. There was certainly nothing she could tell him about. Nothing she could tell anyone about for fear of bringing scandal down on her family.
“Yes, you say that a lot.” He laid his hand on top of hers. “I am a good listener if you ever are not fine and wish to tell someone.”
All of a sudden, Adeline blinked back tears that threatened. How she wished she could tell him and seek his advice. But that was not possible. She would have to figure things out herself.
She offered him a polite smile. “I wonder what’s on the menu tonight.”
In the dining room, Adeline was seated next to Kingsbury and across the table from Lucy and the duke. She raised a brow at Lucy as they settled into their seats. Matchmaker. Her friend smiled brightly in return.
Then Lucy turned to Kingsbury as the wine was being poured. “So, tell me, Lord Kingsbury, what was it like to be on board ship with my father? Was he a terrible taskmaster?”
“Yes. He ran a tight ship, but what I remember most was that he was kind and always fair. Each of the young midshipmen was assigned to an officer. Our work was very much like a valet. I was given the job of serving your father. I basically did everything he needed, from running messages and getting his meals from the galley to brushing his coat each evening. In his private cabin, I would sit and polish his boots and look at your artwork he had tacked up on the wall.”
Lucy smiled. “I always made new pieces to give him when he was home on shore leave.”
“I didn’t know you had a talent for art,” Adeline said.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I had a talent, but I guess I gave up on it after my parents passed. I didn’t have anyone to draw for anymore.” Adeline could see the sadness in her friend’s eyes even as Lucy pasted on a smile. “Tell me something I don’t know. Something only someone who worked under him would know.”
Kingsbury’s brow furrowed, and he took a bite of his steak while he thought. “I know,” he said suddenly. “All the sailors called him ‘the mustache’ behind his back.” His gaze slid to Adeline. “You see, he had the longest, bushiest mustache I have ever seen. The lads would come to find me and say, ‘the mustache is looking for you’ or ‘the mustache is requesting his dinner.’”
Lucy burst out laughing.
Kingsbury waggled his lips as though he were twitching a long mustache. Adeline also began to giggle. Even Hartwick chuckled. Lucy’s laughter was contagious, and Adeline could not stop laughing, which, in turn, made Lucy laugh more. George sent Adeline a disapproving frown from down the table as the other guests stared at them. But Adeline didn’t care. All the tension she had been carrying around eased the more she giggled.
Lucy laid a hand on her heart. “I remember how his mustache would tickle my forehead when he would kiss me.”
“One of my clearest memories of him,” Kingsbury said, “was during my first big squall. I was up on the rigging, pulling in sails and scared out of my mind. And I looked down through the rain to the helm. Your father stood at the wheel, his large hands holding it steady as the wind whipped his coattails behind him. I thought to myself, as long as he is in charge, the ship won’t sink.”
“That’s how he always made me feel, too.” Lucy sighed, her expression turning sad.
Hartwick leaned over and kissed her temple. He whispered something in her ear, making her friend smile and lean against him.
“He reminded me of my own father in that way,” Kingsbury said.
Adeline was jealous deep down in her soul. To have a father like that, one who you could count on to make you feel safe. She pushed her peas around her plate. That was what it should be like. When she had her own children, she would ensure they always felt loved and safe. No matter who their father ended up being, she would make sure they never felt alone.
Later, riding home in the carriage with her brother, Adeline closed her eyes and basked in the glow of happiness from the evening. After dinner, they played charades, and she laughed more than she had in ages. George was such a card, posturing and playing up in front of Verity Mapleson. Kingsbury had sat next to Adeline and entertained her with asides and wildly wrong guesses as people took their turns.
“You looked to be having fun with Kingsbury tonight.” George interrupted her thoughts.
Adeline opened her eyes and met her brother’s assessing gaze. “He is very entertaining,” she said.
“I’m not sure why he is really in town, but if the rumors are true… Well, I just wanted to tell you that I think he is a great chap.”
Adeline smiled at George’s roundabout approval of Kingsbury as a suitor. The marquess was certainly a flirt, but he would probably be that way with any dinner partner. She would admit that his attention had been flattering. Perhaps there were romantic possibilities in their interactions. She would simply have to keep collecting data, and knew precisely what sort of data should be collected next. How did one entice a man to kiss you?