Captives of the Night (46 page)

Read Captives of the Night Online

Authors: Loretta Chase

His blond hair was a shade darker than his son's, but without a hint of grey. His countenance was harder and colder, his eyes more cynical and arrogant. His was a stronger-willed, far more ruthless character than David's, clearly. But then, the duke had carried the weight of his title, with all its attendant burdens, since adolescence. Those responsibilities included a family.

She remembered then, that he was a father as well as a powerful nobleman, that he'd suffered his share of parental grief. And shame: Charles' indiscreet letters, in the hands of a mentally unbalanced degenerate… David's dangerous friendship with the same degenerate.

With a twinge of guilt, Leila realized that the poor man had been allowed not twenty-four hours to rejoice over David's betrothal before she had cut up his peace.

Instinctively, she took his hand. "By gad, how vexed you must be with me," she said. "I can guess what you're thinking — that I am a meddlesome — "

"What I am thinking, madam, is that you ought to be kept on a leash," he said, frowning down at her hand. 'It's a good thing Esmond here has some concern for your safety. Obviously,
you
haven't. What in blazes were you thinking of, to visit that woman — in broad day, no less, when all the world might see? Did it never occur to you, the sort of persons who might be about? You might have been robbed or assaulted. Or followed, as Esmond feared. At the very least, you might have been subjected to insult and indignity. I vow, I am strongly tempted to take you over my knee, young lady."

Before she could respond, Eloise entered with a tray, which she silently placed on the worktable. She left just as quietly, closing the door behind her.

Esmond moved to the tray. "I would recommend you not let Madame Beaumont hold your hand overlong, Your Grace," he said as he picked up the brandy decanter. "The effect often proves debilitating to a gentleman's intellect."

Leila hastily released the duke. "I beg your pardon," she said, retreating to the worktable. "My manners are abominable."

"Your brain, on the other hand, appears to be in excellent working order." Langford stepped up to the easel and studied the bag. "I see you found it, as Helena feared. Sniffed her out, did you?" He absently accepted the glass Esmond offered him and tasted the brandy in the same preoccupied way.

Leila glanced at Esmond as he handed her a snifter. His expression was not enlightening.

"I take it Miss Martin has confessed to Your Grace," Leila said carefully. "In which case, I assume you've taken the proper steps, and the documents will trouble nobody."

"I should like to know how you learned there were documents," the duke said, turning back to her. "Is that what your quarrel with your husband was about? Is that why you refused to describe the quarrel to the coroner? Am I to believe you've been searching for
papers
these last two months?"

As she met his penetrating gaze, Leila saw plainly that he wasn't going to believe anything like it. "Not exactly," she said.

His smile was thin. "Quite. I am not a fool, madam. Just because I repose confidence in Quentin's judgment doesn't mean I'm oblivious to his charades. That inquest was a well-orchestrated one. Not one genuine poison expert in the lot. I also found Esmond's role in the proceedings most intriguing. Couldn't shake off the feeling he was the orchestra leader." He lifted his glass to Esmond, then sipped.

"As you have apparently deduced, Your Grace, Lord Quentin felt the negative consequences of a murder investigation greatly outweighed the positive effects of technical justice," Esmond said.

"Knowing what I do about Beaumont, I couldn't agree more. I only regret I didn't know until rather late. Had I taken steps sooner, I might have spared someone the revolting task of killing him." Langford's gaze moved to Leila. "That's what you're looking for, isn't it? The killer."

She hesitated.

"Fiona said you told her a man had a right to confront his accuser. Haven't I that right, Mrs. Beaumont?"

"You would," she said. "But I can't accuse you." She gestured at the bag. "That pretty much proves neither you nor Helena helped Francis to his Maker."

"I am inexpressibly relieved to hear it."

She straightened her spine. "Still, you said you took steps. Is it impertinent of me to ask what those steps were? Merely in the interests of enlightenment."

"Madame is abominably curious," Esmond murmured.

"Not at all," said His Grace. "I came on purpose to put her mind at ease regarding these troublesome documents. I had intended to omit the disagreeable details, but if Mrs. Beaumont has the stomach to contemplate murder, I doubt my poor crimes will send her into fainting fits."

His cool grey gaze swept the studio. "All the same, I've had enough experience of women to know they're unpredictable. I should feel vastly more at ease, madam, if you were safely seated upon that well-padded sofa."

Leila opened her mouth to announce that her sensibilities weren't at all delicate. She shut it, and headed for the sofa. If the man was willing to talk, she told herself, the least she could do was accommodate a chivalrous request.

Esmond wandered over to the bookshelves behind her. Langford positioned himself at the near end of the fireplace and clasped his hands behind his back.

His story began as she and Ismal had surmised, with the garter episode, and Fiona going to the duke for help. He'd already begun putting his plan into action when Sherburne came to him.

"He was appalled by the nasty scene he'd made in your studio," Langford told her. "He said that if something weren't done soon, Beaumont would surely drive someone to worse, and you didn't deserve to be the scapegoat. He also pointed out that Avory was in a similar position, being the man's bosom bow. By that time, I hardly needed the warning. I simply apprised Sherburne of my plans and promised he'd have a chance to settle his own score, as long as he followed orders."

Fiona was ordered to get Leila out of the way at the critical times, he explained. Sherburne was to do the same with Avory. The next part fit Leila and Esmond's theory: New Year's Eve, Helena scouting the house — and finding the herb bag. She duly reported to Langford, and final plans were laid. Fiona arranged a weeklong visit for Leila, to allow for possible failure on the first attempt to get the papers.

"Helena set out on the very first night you were gone," Langford said. "The Sabbath, I'm sorry to say. Which brings me to the more distasteful aspects. But I think you understand strong measures were required."

Leila assured him she understood.

"I had Sherburne with me, and two sturdy fellows whom I trust implicitly. Helena lured Beaumont into our ambush. While we took Beaumont off for a private discussion, she went on to do her work at the house. We kept Beaumont until nearly dawn — to give her plenty of time — and meanwhile taught him a lesson."

"Your sturdy fellows were professionals, it seems," Esmond said. "There were no recent bruises on the body."

"We shan't discuss the details," the duke said. "Enough to say Beaumont was made to understand
his
orders. He was to settle his affairs forthwith and leave England permanently. He was not to take his wife with him. Fiona had insisted upon that, and we all agreed. We certainly weren't going to let him relieve his spite on you," he told Leila. "I made it very plain that he must be gone before you returned from Surrey."

"No wonder he was so incensed when I came home early," Leila said, recollecting. "But it wasn't altogether rage, I see now. Panic, more likely."

"I can tell you Fiona was in a panic when you left Surrey on Tuesday," Langford said. "Unfortunately, by the time I received her message, Beaumont was dead, and your house was overrun with law officers."

That did explain why Fiona had plagued her to stay at Norbury House. And it was just possible Fiona had encouraged Esmond to follow for the same reason: she'd been frightened for Leila's safety.

"Indeed, the timing of his death was most inconvenient for you," Esmond said from somewhere behind her.

"Not his death, but that infernal woman servant's howling about murder," the duke answered. "We knew the house would be searched. That’s why I attended the inquest. Wanted to know what they'd found. Wanted to be prepared, you see, to do the right thing by Helena. After all, I made the plan and gave the orders. The rest of us were safe enough. Alibis, that is, for the entire night. Until half-past five o'clock, the night before his death, the servants had been in the house. No visitors, they testified. From half-past five to eight, my troops were with me at Helena's, celebrating. We burned the letters and didn't spare the champagne. Sherburne and I saw Fiona home right after. Her servants can vouch for her whereabouts from then on. Sherburne went on to the Dunhams' and I stopped in at my club for a while, then went home."

He took his neglected brandy glass from the mantel. "Does that satisfy your curiosity, Mrs. Beaumont? Are you sufficiently enlightened?"

She was so relieved she wanted to hug him. She clasped her hands tightly together. "Yes, certainly. Thank you. Indeed, you have been very kind, very patient, Your Grace."

He looked at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. "Helena said you were a piece of work. I quite agree. Mending marriages. Matchmaking. Hunting thieves and murderers." He frowned at the empty snifter in his hand. "I don't think the last is wise. But one must assume Quentin knows what he's about, and one knows better than to interfere with his delicate contrivances. I should be content with what small enlightenment I have received — and, of course, to offer my paltry services, should the need arise."

"That is exceedingly kind of you," Leila said.

"Most generous," said Esmond.

"Least I can do." The duke stalked back to the worktable, set his glass upon the fray, and bid Leila good night.

Surprised at the abrupt leave-taking, she bolted up, and managed a creditable curtsy. "Good night, Your Grace. And thank you."

He was already heading for the door. "Esmond, I want a word with you," he said. Without a glance back, Langford strode out.

Leila stood in the hall waiting until the front door shut. Then she hurried down to the landing. "What did he say?" she whispered.

Ismal paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced over his shoulder toward the door. His silken hair glimmered in the light from the wall sconce. Something glimmered in Leila's mind: a thread of a thought, a memory, but it vanished the instant he turned and looked up and smiled.

"Ah, nothing," he said softly as he began to ascend. "The usual thing. I am not to trifle with your affections. I am not to make a scandal. I am to protect you with my life — a task he tells me would be much simpler if we were wed."

Damnation. He was going to persist. "Very well," she said. "If you want to talk about it now — "

"Also, I am not to waste my valuable time checking Avory's alibi. Those two sturdy fellows watched him, day and night, from the time the duke made his plans with Helena until the day your husband died. The duke saw to his heir's protection, you see. Avory was nowhere near your house, neither on the Sunday nor the Monday."

He joined her on the landing. "We have worked two months, only to learn we must discard all five of our prime suspects."

"Maybe I'm not such a good partner after all," she said.

He took her hand and led her up the stairs. "You are an excellent partner. Did I not tell you at the start that these matters require patience? This is not the first time I have traveled in circles and had to begin again."

"Do you really think we'll spend the rest of our lives on this case?"

"The prospect does not dismay me." He led her on up to the second floor and into her bedroom. As he shut the door, he said, "At the very least, it will keep me occupied these next interminable ten months. And during that time, I shall prove to you what an agreeable husband I will make."

"You might also learn what a disagreeable wife
I'll
make," she said. "You've never been married before. You don't know what it's like."

"Neither do you. You were married to Francis Beaumont." He began to unfasten her bodice. "At least you are aware I am a more entertaining companion
dans le boudoir
."

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