Read How to Beguile a Beauty Online

Authors: Kasey Michaels

How to Beguile a Beauty (24 page)

“Reformed harlots? Sounds like a jolly place, full of sermons and penance and bread without butter.”

“Yes, I agree. Totally unsuitable for a sensitive young lady like Jasmine. So I suppose I'm stuck keeping her. I was going to give Thomas an allowance, send them both home. Now what in living hell am I going to do with her?”

“Perhaps she'll decide to take herself off to a nunnery.”

“Once again, Justin, you're not helping.”

“I never intended to. I'm only here to observe, and perhaps enjoy myself. Except that I'm not, enjoying myself, that is. Those sapphires, Tanner? I'm afraid that's all you have of the Malvern jewels, save those few bits of glass and very minor pieces you took to London. The box I located behind the portrait was empty. Everything else is gone except for a few empty cases lying on the floor. Neatness didn't seem to be a priority. In fact, I believe you were supposed to find a mess. After all, otherwise it might have been weeks or months until you'd discovered the theft.”

Tanner reined in his mount, as they'd reached the scythed lawns. The entire collection numbered more than fifty pieces, some of them dating back over two hundred years. Everything was taken? Yes, of course it had been. But he had to ask anyway. “Gone? All of it? The Malvern Pride?”

“I'm sorry, but yes. So what do we have here? A theft to cover a theft? I was pondering just that when Lydia arrived, and wondering if your cousin had insisted on coming back to Malvern ahead of us to do just that. Victim of a guilty conscience, he may have felt you had
all but confronted him in London. He may have panicked, believed making the rest of the jewels disappear would help to cover the fact that any more of the stones had been changed. Unless they hadn't been, and he wanted them all for himself before you returned and found a better way to lock them away. I wouldn't have needed the key, you know. Anyone with even a modicum of talent who found that portrait and opened it would have had the lockbox in his hands with very little effort. I can't imagine why your papa and ancestors didn't take more care with them. At any rate, I imagine he was going to greet you with the news that he'd discovered the theft. Except that something went fatally wrong for the man.”

“You're saying that Thomas took the remainder of the jewelry, and then ran afoul of some accomplice in the theft? Whoever had been helping him replace the stones?”

“I don't think I said that precisely, but, yes, it seems feasible, as we can be certain the man's death wasn't a suicide. The Malvern Pride alone could make a man consider murder a necessary expedient.”

“No reason to take the watch, the purse. Not when he had the jewels.”

“A mistake, I'd say. Although why your cousin had kept the sapphires separate I can't explain. Perhaps a sentimental attachment? Then again, if the stones had already been changed out, perhaps he separated it from the real stones?”

Tanner had another thought. “Or he could have
dropped the pouch in his rush, and then stuck it in his pocket rather than chancing he could be discovered by one of the servants. He was in a hurry to meet with his accomplice, hand off the jewels, and then hie himself back to Malvern in time to play the bearer of bad news when we arrived. That way, the man who killed him wouldn't have known about the sapphires.”

“Yes, I rather like that one, although we'll probably never know the truth now that old Thomas has cocked up his toes,” Justin said. “Have you ever considered a life of crime, friend? I think you might have the devious brain required to be successful at it. You know, if this being the duke business doesn't work out for you.”

“I'll be sure to consider it, thank you.” They continued to walk the horses toward the drive, and another thought hit Tanner. “Unless the sapphires—you said they're a minor piece—were expressly left behind to prove Thomas a thief,” he said, trying out the idea out loud. “Nothing of value taken from the body, but something added.”

“Ah, I like that, as well, perhaps even better than the first one, although I must once again point out that we'll probably never know precisely why the necklace was in his pocket. Back to the robbery, which was successful. One thief exposed—and very dead—and the other clearly in possession of the remainder of the jewels save the sapphires, and already miles away, and riding hell for leather to the coast. Unknown, and impossible to find. Or do you plan to mount a search?”

“I'll hire some fellow from Bow Street,” Tanner told
him, as he'd already come to that conclusion on his own. “I'll question the servants, make some inquiries locally, of course. But that's all. I have Lydia to protect now. I can't go haring all over the country looking for some damn stones that may very well be fakes, leaving her here alone.”

“Yes. You have Lydia.”

Tanner looked at his friend. “This can't touch her, Justin.”

“She's more precious than any stones, you'll get no argument there. What are you thinking? What's your next step? And, whatever it is, consider me walking beside you.”

They dismounted and a groom ran up to take the reins, bowing to His Grace and welcoming him home.

At last, Tanner shared his worst fears with his friend. “I'm thinking, Justin, that there was something else missing from the body. Thomas held the keys to every gate and door on this estate, and was never without them, as they were the outward sign of his authority. Malvern holds a damn sight more than those bloody jewels, Justin. I'm thinking that maybe Thomas' murderer isn't all that far away, not when he now can walk in and out of Malvern whenever the spirit moves him until we complete the massive job of replacing all the locks. Our coconspirator, and whoever may be in his employ.”

“Damn. You know, Tanner, this is what comes of cutting loose our brave soldiers into a land where they can barely afford food or shelter, denying them pensions or help of any kind. It is inevitable that some will
turn their talents to fleecing the rich, those who have so much, when they have so little.”

“Now you sound like Rafe and Lucas, although I agree with you.”

Justin put a hand on Tanner's arm, holding him in place just at the bottom of the front steps. “Events are taking a considerably ugly and confusing turn, aren't they? Before we join the ladies, let's see if we can eliminate anything, shall we? Are we still to look at what's happened today and see a conspiracy to have you wed to Jasmine, or is that over now?”

“That had all been only conjecture on our part anyway, that business about Jasmine and me. I think we can agree that plan died when Thomas was murdered. And, I think, we can also dismiss any idea that Thomas acted alone.”

“I concur. We'll stay with the jewels then, and some sort of partnership, at the very least. One to steal the stones, one to sell them, have the stones replaced. But, for some unknown reason, the thieves had a falling out, and your cousin was murdered. Leaving us to ask, who is this man, this possible gang of men? Ah, wait, I believe I have one suggestion. Perhaps one of your cousin's gambling chums, one he owed a considerable sum of money?”

Tanner had thought he was beyond being shocked. “Gambling? My cousin gambled?”

“Didn't Jasmine tell you? Thomas was always sneaking off somewhere to gamble at cards, with the dice. Here on the estate, again in London. He was some
times gone for days. To hear her tell it, your cousin was pockets-to-let, completely. Either you married her almost immediately and bailed him out of the River Tick, or he was ruined. In any event, that person or persons may have pretended to go along with him, but with an entirely different objective in mind. Invite in the devil, Tanner, and he can be counted on to show up, even with his demons in tow, and with a whole set of evil ideas you hadn't thought of on your own.”

But Tanner was still attempting to picture his tight-fisted uncle as a gambler. “How blind can one man be, Justin? I had no idea Thomas played deep. But Jasmine told you this?”

“A tongue hinged at both ends, remember? Were I forced into her company for any time above a fortnight, I'd have no choice but to strangle her. But she's harmless, I suppose, unless you mind your ears bleeding from time to time.”

Tanner nodded, his mind working feverishly. “What you said makes perfect sense. Why split the proceeds on the stones? Why only get them piecemeal, whenever Thomas needed funds? Why care about Thomas's plan at all? The thieves saw Malvern, and saw so much more that could be theirs. He damn well did everything but invite them in for tea.”

“Yes, remove the coconspirators he so foolishly partnered with, and your cousin's plan might have worked, and there soon would have been no need for any more small thefts—or any more profit for those coconspirators. If it hadn't been for Lydia, that is. Truly an unex
pected complication for him, you falling in love with her. After all, you'd been two years without a romantic attachment of any kind, and you'd taken Jasmine with you to London, so surely you were about to come up to snuff. Thomas must have felt he was closing in on his victory. He can't be faulted for that. Half of London believed the same thing.”

Tanner wasn't really listening. He was still attempting to work everything out in his mind. And the more he thought, the more he realized that he had put Lydia in danger by bringing her to Malvern. He could allow Justin to come to that conclusion himself, in his own good time, while he concentrated on other things.

Justin sighed. “I'm to continue this conversation with myself? Very well. So we agree there's someone else involved in this larger plan, perhaps more than one person, perhaps an entire gang of low thieves. Whoever—
whomevers
—slit your cousin's throat when he became an impediment in some way. Perhaps he was foolish enough to tell them he wasn't going to steal any more, that his daughter was soon to be the duchess, and he no longer needed them.”

“Quiet, please, Justin. I'm thinking.”

“You do that. I, however, prefer to think out loud. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Perhaps Thomas belatedly realized his mistake, and objected to having his daughter become duchess of a house that echoed in its emptiness? But, really, does the
why
of his murder matter? We're standing out here, my friend, with Lydia and Jasmine inside, and all four of us very much in the way
of those who now hold the keys to every gate and door of your home. I doubt your being in residence will bother them overmuch if they decide to come calling one night soon. You wouldn't expect the thieves to return, not now that they have the jewels. Why, we'd be lambs to the slaughter, wouldn't we, murdered in our beds?

“You certainly can't be faulted for holding a boring house party, I'll say that for you. Tanner? Yoohoo. Excuse me, but I don't believe I was speaking rhetorically. Surely you have something to add, something along the lines of:
My God, man, we could be under siege at any moment and must send the women back to London, posthaste!

But Tanner didn't answer. He'd already passed beyond his friend's musings, and was remembering the way Lydia, on their way to Malvern, had rolled her eyes whenever Jasmine went on about whatever she seemed to prattle on about. Lydia had thought Jasmine sweet, amusing, if a little silly. In London, she had thought that. But no more, that was obvious now that he thought about the thing.

He was remembering how Jasmine had glared at Lydia when she'd walked into their private dining room at the inn on Captain Flynn's arm. Had she been glaring at Lydia—or at the man beside her?

He was remembering how Lydia had stepped in to explain that Jasmine had sustained an injury. How she'd whispered in the girl's ear in the coach, and the shocked expression that had come over Jasmine's face.

Jasmine's bruised face, poor thing.

Had Jasmine confided in Lydia, woman to woman? And, if so, what had she told her?

“Captain Flynn,” he said quietly as a cold certainty gathered in his gut. He didn't have all the pieces yet, but he'd begun to see at least the outline of the puzzle. He'd been suspicious that Thomas may have sent the man to stir up trouble. Now he felt certain he'd been right.

“Captain Flynn?” Justin repeated. “Your Captain Flynn?”

“He's not my—all right, yes, my Captain Flynn. God knows I'm the idiot who invited him for supper. He knew about Fitz, about Quatre Bras, all of it. I'd already thought Thomas might have put him up to it, that business about Fitz and the ladies…”

“All right. So they were in it together, your cousin and this Flynn person. I can see how you might make that connection, Flynn as coconspirator. The man might have wanted a look at you, to size you up in some way, and used Fitz to get himself in the door. So comforting to be able to put a face to evil. But why did Flynn kill your cousin? Which one of my many very good theories most appeals to you?”

“I don't know.”

“Oh, good. I was worried there for a moment that I might have gone stupid in my advancing years. Still we should probably put all this heavy thinking and theorizing to one side until you've informed Jasmine of her father's demise. You go on, and I'll round up a small
party to retrieve the body. Then we'll speak again of removing the ladies to someplace safe.”

Tanner looked at the closed doors to his home. Doors he'd wanted to see opened as he and Lydia approached them together, so he could watch her reaction when those doors were flung back and she saw her new home for the first time.

Thank God they'd had those moments together at the inn, on the hill above Malvern. They might be the last quiet moments they'd have together for a long time…

CHAPTER NINETEEN

L
YDIA THANKED THE BUTLER
as he set a lovely silver tea service on the table in the main saloon before bowing to her and to Jasmine, turning smartly on his heel, and leaving the room. Very proper, Tanner's butler, but with kind eyes. Lydia had taken to him on sight. Although he did seem to be worried about something; she wouldn't have noticed, except that a small tic had been working in the man's cheek. And the household seemed unnaturally quiet, with none of the hustle and bustle she would have expected with the master on his way home.

“He doesn't like me, you know,” Jasmine said as she reached for one of the scones arranged on a small dish. “Roswell, I mean. He thinks I'm the poor relation putting on airs. Which is silly, because I'm here because Papa is the estate manager, and because Tanner wants me here. That's because Tanner is kind, and caring. It's a pity I can't love him. Oooh, these are quite good, aren't they? I think I'll have some jellied strawberry on the next one.”

“Hmm?” Lydia said, her mind concentrated on listening for Tanner's arrival. There was a dead body out
there. She had even caught a quick glimpse of it as she urged Daisy along the path. She'd never seen a dead body before, had never hoped to. One of the estate workers, Tanner had said. Had a tree fallen on him? Or perhaps he'd been tossed from his horse, which had then bolted and run away. She searched her mind for some reasonable explanation, but couldn't stop thinking that Tanner had looked not just serious, but rather shaken.

“I
said,
how lucky I am that Tanner doesn't love me.”

Lydia shook off her thoughts and smiled at the girl, although not without effort. “Yes, how fortunate. Because he'd be doomed to disappointment, wouldn't he? Because of your Bruce Beattie.”

“My—oh, I keep forgetting I told you his name. I shouldn't have done that. It was…it was our secret. You'll keep our secret, won't you? Tanner could use his influence to have him turned off, you know.”

“Perhaps he should. An honorable man would have applied to your father if he wished to court you.”

Jasmine's expression turned sulky. “And what good would that have done? Papa is convinced Tanner will come up to snuff, sooner or later. He has to, or Papa will soon bankrupt us with his gambling. I am under strict orders, you know, to be all that is pleasing to Tanner this week. I'm so glad the baron is here with us. You don't mind that Tanner has paired him with you, do you? I suppose you'll be the first to hear the announcement, when it comes. And, who knows, perhaps you two will have one of your own?”

Lydia tipped the silver pot in its holder and poured herself a cup of tea, surprised that her hands were steady. “Is that how you see the thing, Jasmine? That Justin and I have been invited here for each other?”

“Why, yes, of course. I've seen how the baron looks at you. He's truly smitten. What other reason could there be, since the man is Tanner's friend, and clearly
persona non grata
in London at the moment? That business about killing a man, remember? Where else could he court you? And you don't seem to mind at all that he killed someone.”

“Sometimes you amaze me, Jasmine,” Lydia said quietly. “But you have it all worked out in your head, don't you?”

“Oh, yes. Papa expects Tanner to propose to me within days. Why else did you think I couldn't sleep last night at the inn? Each turn of the coach wheels brought me closer to this destiny I have dreaded for nearly two years. I am only glad that you, my new friend, will be here to support me in this time of—”

“Oh, please, stop it. Just stop it,” Lydia said, putting down her cup with some force. “You met your Bruce Beattie last night when you sneaked out of the inn. Are you planning an elopement, Jasmine? Or did you refuse him, having decided that being a duchess wasn't a fate more terrible than saying your farewells to a near-penniless schoolmaster? Is that why he struck you? You couldn't believe I would be so gullible as to believe that farradiddle about tripping on your hem, did you? Not with the imprint of a hand so clear on your face. Not
with your slippers wet from having been out in the rain. You met your Mr. Beattie, your
lover
, and you argued. He hit you.”

Jasmine's face went deathly white. “You…you promised you wouldn't say anything. In the coach, when you whispered to me that you'd seen the note in my reticule, you promised. If I was good you wouldn't say anything.”

“And I won't,” Lydia told her, already regretting giving in to impulse. This wasn't like her, she was never vindictive. Or was this different; was she protecting her own now? “But I find I can't keep that promise if you are going to insist on lying to me every time you open your mouth. You're not even keeping your lies straight, you've told so many of them. You don't love Tanner, you're glad he doesn't love you, and then you will marry him, because he will ask you. You make no sense.”

Jasmine looked at her with wounded eyes. “But Papa
does
want me to marry Tanner. That's not a lie.”

“I'm sure it's not. But all this business about believing Tanner is on the brink of asking for your hand? You know that's not true, no more than any thought that Justin and I are to be paired together this week. You know you'll never marry Tanner because he is going to—oh, let's not have this conversation. Just don't lie to me anymore. No matter what, you're Tanner's cousin, and your lies make it difficult for me to like you as I know I should.”

Lydia folded her hands together in her lap. She was like an alley cat when it came to Tanner. She hadn't
known she possessed so much temper, or that she couldn't control it, tamp it down…not where Tanner was concerned. Still, if she had to listen to Jasmine lie to her one more time, prattle on about marrying him while indulging in a torrid affair with her lecherous schoolmaster, why, she might not be responsible for her actions.

Jasmine burst into tears, speaking between sobs, so that she was difficult to understand. “Oh, all right, Lydia, I admit it. I've told so many lies, most of them to myself. But I can't lie to you. You're so
good,
just like Tanner, and I want to tell you the truth. I need to tell someone. I know what you were going to say. Tanner wants you, not me. I've known that for days. But when I told…when I told Br-Bruce, he said I had failed in our plan by not being nicer to Tanner, making him fall in love with me. He said I'd cost him everything.”

Lydia realized she had become quite nervous, and reluctant to hear anything more. Whether it was Jasmine's tears, or the girl's wish to tell the truth, she couldn't know. But, for Tanner's sake, she would listen. “Your plan? What plan, Jasmine? I…I don't understand.”

The girl sighed deeply. “But it's all so simple. Tanner was to propose to me once I'd made him feel as if he was in love with me. I can be very charming you know, and I am pretty. Much prettier than you. Oh, I'm so sorry!”

“Don't be. I asked you to tell me the truth, and the truth is the truth. Please, continue. Tanner was to propose to you…?”

“Yes. And I was to accept. Papa would be happy, beg to be dismissed from his duties because of his old injury caused by the late duke, and take himself off to gamble away the allowance Tanner would give him. He really is disgusting, my Papa, and very weak, I suppose. But he's still my father, and I must love him. Then, just before the wedding, I was to tell Tanner I simply couldn't go through with the marriage because my heart belonged to another. And then he, being such an honorable man, and loving me, wanting what is best for me, would release me from my promise. He'd settle a generous allowance on me as he had done with Papa, and Br—Bruce and I would be free to leave here forever. Together.”

And then the girl actually had the audacity to smile. “We thought Paris would be a delicious place to settle. My allowance, in good English sterling, would be more than ample in Paris, which is still very poor as it recovers from the war.”

Now Lydia smiled, the smile widening as the sheer ridiculousness of this idea sank into her head. “
That
was your schoolteacher's plan? Jasmine, that's ridiculous. Only a complete fool would believe such nonsense.”
Beginning
, she thought,
with the idea that you can make anyone fall in love with you. Love comes unbidden, or not at all.

Jasmine immediately took recourse to her handkerchief, sniffling. “I know. I am a fool. The plan only seemed logical when I was in his arms. Everything seemed logical
when I was in his arms. You can't know what it's like to be so…so intimate. A woman needs to believe,
has
to believe, or else it's all just…dirty…and base.”

“It's all right, Jasmine,” Lydia said, embarrassed for the girl. “I don't think you're…base.”

“Oh thank you! But…once I was in London, away from him, I began to doubt him. What had seemed so reasonable didn't seem reasonable any more. And then I finally knew it for certain, last night. I'm so ashamed.”

“You believed yourself in love. I understand. When you're in love, anything seems possible.”

“Then you don't blame me? He swore he loved me. And I loved him
so much
. The way he kissed me…the way he made me feel. But it was all a sham. He never loved me. He
lied
to me, Lydia, he lied to me all along. B-both of them lied to me.”

Lydia looked at her sharply. “
Both
of them?”

Jasmine nodded her head furiously. “Yes. It was Papa and B-Bruce together, all along. I meant nothing to either of them. I was just a, just a—”

“Dupe?” Lydia supplied helpfully, and then felt bad again. For a moment, she'd thought Jasmine had
two
lovers. Really, the silly girl was almost impossible to follow, and some of what she'd said was very embarrassing to hear.

Once again, Jasmine nodded furiously. “It was all about the Malvern jewels, you see, and not at all about
me
. It wasn't about
either
of them loving me. No, it was always about…about those awful jewels. Papa had been stealing them, you see, replacing the stones with paste.
He'd been doing it for years, one stone at a time, to cover his gambling debts, although he said he'd only seldom done it, and with only a very few pieces.”

Lydia sat back against the cushions, completely shocked. One moment they'd been speaking of false lovers, and the next they were speaking of stolen jewelry?
That's
what all this had been about all along? The famous Malvern jewels? But how, why? She had to keep Jasmine talking, that much was obvious.

“I see,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “And you knew about these…exchanges.”

“That's why I couldn't bear to wear any of the pieces longer than I had to in London. I was never so relieved as when I could hand them back to Tanner each evening. I knew they might be the few that were fakes, and just knowing that made them
burn
against my skin, as if I had been the guilty one. I had to pretend I would marry Tanner so that Papa could stay on the estate, keep on stealing jewels as he needed them. And I knew what he was doing, and didn't tell Tanner. If Papa was found out,
I
could go to gaol! Br-Bruce was to be my salvation, take me away to Paris, where I'd be safe.”

“Except that he never planned to take you to Paris. He was working with your father.” As seemed to be the case whenever she was in Jasmine's company for too long, Lydia was developing the headache. “No, I still don't see how your Bruce Beattie fits in here, beyond the role of your lover. Oh, wait. Did he help your father with the jewels? Perhaps sell them for him?”

“Yes of course. That's how I first met Bruce, one day
when he visited the estate. Papa couldn't be seen selling jewels, now could he? I think that should be obvious to someone as intelligent as you, Lydia. Although I admit I was not so intelligent, because
I
never knew they were working together. But there was one problem, and that was the Malvern Pride, the real prize. Papa couldn't find it. All the other pieces were kept in Tanner's study, behind a portrait. But the Malvern Pride and all of the pieces that go with it weren't there. Papa didn't care, as he said it would be too dangerous to touch it, but Bruce wanted it. He wanted it badly. I…I didn't learn that, either, until last night. Until Bruce hit me.”

Lydia wished Tanner could be here to listen to all of this. But if she asked Jasmine to stop now, the girl might turn mulish, and refuse to tell anyone anything else. Especially once her father was on the scene.

“Yes, why did he hit you?”

“I…I'd promised him a key. Before I left for London, actually. But I didn't give it to him. Well, I didn't leave it under the rock down at the back of the garden, the way he told me to. I mean, he loved me, I was sure of that. But he kept asking for the key, and I didn't like that. He
demanded
it. So I didn't do what he said. I can be very stubborn, you know.”

Lydia's mind flashed back to the note she'd read, the one she'd found in Jasmine's reticule. The line she hadn't thought important had been the most important of them all:
Remember what you promised. The key to our future, my darling.

“This key, Jasmine. What could Bruce Beattie have done with this key?”

“Let…let himself into Malvern, of course. With all of us gone to London and the servants going to bed early because there was no one here to care for, he felt he could sneak in at night and search for the Malvern Pride, since Papa had refused to help him.” She lifted her chin in some defiance. “But if I gave him that key, and he found the Malvern Pride, then he might leave me. He
said
he loved me, but did he? Did he, really? Silly in love as I was, sometimes I felt as if the Pride was more important to him than I was. He never ceased talking about it, even…even in bed. What did it look like, had I ever seen it. On and on. So I didn't leave the key, but took it to London with me instead. I had to be sure he'd still be here when I returned.”

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