Chapter 6 #2
Three weeks ago, when he’d known his stepmother’s handiwork would be at its finest, the gardens lush and beautiful, he’d invited Anne to his country estate.
News of her visit had spread through the summer-dulled ton like wildfire and betting in the clubs was not on whether he would propose, but on the precise day. And he had intended to propose.
On the last Thursday of Anne’s stay, shortly after lunch, he’d sought her out, a fine sapphire that had once belonged to his grandmother in his pocket.
The air was heavy with the fragrance of sun-sated roses.
As he strode along the winding path through the garden, he’d caught the sound of Anne’s voice on the other side of the hedge and his steps inexplicably slowed.
It was, he told himself, not because he had any doubts about asking her to many him, but because she seemed to be in deep conversation with her brother James.
“Do stop your incessant whining about your debts, James. You’ve become positively tedious.”
“I wouldn’t have to be so tedious, if you’d just get on with it and bring Moneybags Moreham up to scratch. Can’t you trap him in the library and tear your bodice or something? At this rate, the creditors will have clapped me in irons before the fellow makes his offer.”
“Don’t be so vulgar, James. I have neither the desire nor the intention to invite Moreham to paw at my bosom.”
“Well, that should make it rather difficult to beget the earl’s heir.”
“When the time comes I shall do my duty, just as I will do my duty to the family by marrying Moreham.”
A flat metallic taste filled Rafe’s mouth, and he swallowed hard. What had he expected? To hear Lady Anne declaring her love for him? He wasn’t in love with her. Why should he be surprised that she viewed marriage with him as anything more than a convenient arrangement?
“So if you’re not offering up your maidenly charms, sister dear, how do you intend to bring him round?”
“He’s nearly there,” Rafe heard Anne respond coolly. “But should he continue to drag his feet, I’ll simply suggest what a dreadful season his little sister is likely to encounter without my experience to guide her. Then I’ll make certain that things become very bumpy for Lady Elizabeth Harcrest.”
“Why Anne, you wicked puss, I believe your claws are showing.” James’s laughter was lost in the crunch of gravel as he led his sister farther down the path.
Rafe told himself he was no young buck, crushed to discover his ladylove had played him false.
He was a mature man who had chanced to see his partner’s cards.
And yet he wondered, why did he feel as cold and empty as if he’d found her cheating?
Lady Anne was the most suitable bride he was likely to find, the right choice for the house of Moreham, and the right choice to help Elizabeth pilot the dangerous currents of London society.
But the sapphire ring had remained in his pocket that afternoon and was in his desk drawer when he’d left for France the next day, apologizing profusely for having been so suddenly called away.
“Well, it appears that my refusal to play chess has struck you quite dumb.” Alix’s voice interrupted his unpleasant recollections.
“So what’ll it be, twenty-one, philosophical debates, pantomimes?
If we had music we could dance.” She cocked her head at him, her long hair sliding over her shoulder.
“Though I suppose in your life you might not have had much opportunity to grace the dance floor.”
Rafe had told Alix that he was a cloth merchant, involved in importing French silks into England. “I’m afraid my dance skills are limited, mademoiselle,” he said offering up a silent apology to his dance master.
“Well then, monsieur, what do you propose we do to pass the time?”
He stared at her slim form, still garbed in his nightshirt and a suggestion that had nothing to do with dancing swept through his mind.
But he was saved from having to answer by Jervis’s entrance into the room, preceded by a ragged ginger cat that streaked through his legs and leapt onto the chair beside him.
Jervis glared at it. “Damn cat, nearly broke my neck. Worthless fleabag,” he added as the cat flexed its claws and regarded him complacently.
Rafe stroked the cat beneath its chin. Cutting short Jervis’s threats to the animal, he inquired, “What have you discovered?”
“I was going to tell you before that creature tried to kill me. See if I don’t take him to the cook yet.
” He eyed the contented feline balefully.
“Well, I went round to the house and watched it for a while, no one coming in, no one going out, windows completely dark. So then I took myself off to the café down the street and had a cup of coffee and bit of a chat with the locals. Word is that no one’s been living there for a couple of months.
” He glanced meaningfully at Alix. “Since before the killings last week.”
Alix, who hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath, exhaled sharply. “Did anyone say where the inhabitants of the house had gone?”
Jervis shrugged. “There was plenty of speculation that the lady had left the country, but no one seemed to know whether she’d emigrated to England or Austria. One man swore he’d seen her selling ribbons on the street.”
Alix fixed her gaze on Rafe. “So we have to break in.”
Jervis swung around to face his master. “Here, this sounds interesting.”
Rafe frowned at them both and said sharply, “If we need to enter the house illicitly, we will be Jervis and I. You, Mademoiselle de La Brou, are going nowhere.”
Alix crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “That’s ridiculous. Neither of you knows a thing about my mother. How will you even know where to begin searching?”
Rafe nodded agreeably. “It’s true I have not had much experience breaking into people’s homes, but no doubt Jervis and I can manage adequately without your help.” “Besides,” he added with a twinkle in his hazel eyes, “I believe you’ll have some difficulty conducting a burglary in my nightclothes.”
“And whose fault is it that I’m in your nightclothes?”
“You know, that’s an interesting question, and one I suspect we could debate for some time.
After Jervis and I conduct our inspection of your mother’s home, I will contact some friends in the city about acquiring some new garments for you.
” Disregarding her efforts to protest, he said, “I think you’ll find I’m quite a good judge of style.
” He eyed her slender figure appreciatively adding, “And fit.”
“In the interim, I will let it be known below stairs that I don’t wish to be disturbed.
If anyone comes in, well, I suppose we could hide you in that.
” He gestured towards a fair-sized trunk in the corner of the room.
Alix looked at the trunk and then back at Rafe, disbelief clearly sketched in her raised brows.
Rafe pointedly ignored her expression, picking up one of the papers from the pile on the table. “Is this the only residency paper you have for Paris?” Alix nodded. He turned to Jervis. “Do you think any of our friends can improve the contents of this document for us?”
“For a price, Dubois can draw up papers proving she’s Marie Antoinette’s long lost sister.”
Rafe smiled. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. I think we’re looking for something with a bit more of the common touch.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a sack of coins. “This should be ample for Monsieur Dubois.” He tossed it to Jervis who promptly pocketed it.
“Now about this evening’s activities.”
“Yes, about them,” Alix interrupted, feeling very much as if she’d already been shut into the trunk.
Rafe politely dismissed her efforts to be included. He rose and began to pace in front of the fire, the cat following him. ‘Tell me everything you noticed about the layout of the house.”
“From the street there’s two rectangular buildings joined in the middle by this long wall with an arched porte cochère in the center large enough to admit carriages.
It’s usually closed, but there’s a door cut into it that’s unlocked.
Just behind the wall there’s a garden and some service buildings that Madame de La Brou shared with the neighbors.
See, turns out she only rented one wing, the one with the dancing nymphs over the door.
Anyway, it’s three stories, if you count the upper floor with the dormers, which, for this job I don’t.
The ground floor has a gallery that opens onto the garden, and a couple of salons that overlook the street.
The bedrooms are upstairs. The way I see it, our best bet is to go in through one of the street side windows.
” Jervis rubbed his nose. “I’m pretty certain I noticed that one of windows was open. ”
Alix dropped into an armchair and fumed.
She’d led a sheltered life, it was true, and she’d always followed the dictates of her father.
But something inside her had changed over the last several weeks.
Just like the rest of the country, she thought wryly, she’d had a taste of freedom.
If Rafe Harcrest thought that she was going to stay quietly in the room while he made decisions that affected her life, he was sadly mistaken.
Jump into a trunk if anyone came in, what a ridiculous notion.
As they continued to discuss their plans as if she weren’t there, Alix studied Rafe’s manservant.
Jervis was broader, but not much taller than she was.
Like Rafe, he wore English-style boots, but his britches were baggy and his waistcoat was unfashionably loose and long.