Miss in a Man's World (14 page)

‘And you have no idea who it might be?' The Frenchman sounded decidedly sceptical.

‘No, I ain't!' the other confirmed. ‘And I'll tell 'e something else, I ain't going to try to find out, neither. I were warned at the start by that there seedy cove not to go asking questions, to do my job and I'd get paid.'

Georgiana saw Tate reach for his tankard, and after a
moment he added, ‘The only one I knows is you. Seems to me you'd know more than me.'

‘I'm afraid, mon ami, I do not. The brains behind the whole operation is most cautious, it would seem. My part is to dispose of the gems and leave the money I attain for them behind a particular portion of wooden panelling in a boarding house in Dover. Whether the lady who owns the establishment is involved, I have no knowledge, but I rather think not. Perhaps it is your seedy little comrade who is next to book the room. Who can say?'

There was a scraping of a chair on the wooden floor as one of the men got to his feet. ‘But if I am to make the coast, and reach France by Friday, I must leave you, mon ami. Until next time…'

Georgiana saw the Frenchman depart without further ado. A moment later the other followed from the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief, even though she had felt in no particular danger.

While she waited to be released from her self-enforced confinement she went over what she had learned in her mind. Uncomfortable though it had been, the experience had brought its rewards, and although she might not have discovered all that she might have wished, she knew a deal more now than she had half an hour ago. Yes, all in all, it had been extremely worthwhile!

The creaking of the door was a relief to hear, and a moment later the key was grating in the lock. ‘Out you come, young sir. Master's in a foul mood tonight. If 'e catches you in 'ere I might lose m' job.'

Only too happy to follow Nell down the dim passageway and out into a side alley, Georgiana was once
again subjected to the unpleasant sight of badly rotting teeth when she tossed the tavern girl a shiny gold coin.

Wanting only to put as much distance between herself and the lowly inn, she didn't linger over farewells and hurried down the alley and out on to the cobbled street. Thankfully there were few people about at that time of night. Apart from a couple loitering in a doorway, the street was deserted, save for a hackney carriage at the very corner of the road. If it was for hire, it was the greatest piece of good fortune, Georgiana decided, not thinking twice about heading towards the stationary conveyance.

 

The Duke and Duchess of Merton's annual ball had always rated high in the social events of the Season, and as such attracted the very cream of society. This year's entertainment was proving no exception. A stream of the most notable figures in London had been filing past the entrance to the lavishly decorated ballroom for well over an hour. Consequently, the large room had become crowded, much to the annoyance of one of the latest arrivals who had quite failed to locate the person he particularly wished to see.

Reaching for his quizzing-glass, Lord Fincham once again scanned the room and spied a pretty blonde-haired girl engaged in a set of country dances, which resulted in his irritation lessening. A further sweep of the room through his aid to vision resulted in locating not his quarry, but a rather forbidding-looking matriarch in a maroon-coloured gown, sitting by herself against the wall.

He didn't allow her somewhat unapproachable mien to deter him, and sauntered over to where she sat, bowing with his customary elegance. ‘May I have
the felicity of bearing you company for a few minutes, ma'am?'

Appearing anything but impressed by the faultless address, the Dowager Countess of Grenville merely cast a cursory glance up at the immaculately attired figure before her. ‘You may, if you so wish, Fincham,' she responded, betraying scant pleasure at the prospect. ‘But I think I should warn you I am not in a particularly sociable mood this evening.'

Again he was not deterred. ‘Why so, ma'am? Are you perhaps finding the rigours of chaperoning your granddaughter fatiguing? If so,' he continued, when he quite failed to elicit a response, ‘I wonder you do not enlist the aid of your late son's goddaughter. I'm sure she could assist you in many ways.'

Fincham discovered in those next moments that the Dowager Countess of Grenville's dark eyes could be very nearly as directly probing as his own. But rather more revealing, he fancied, for he judged in an instant that the Dowager was, in all likelihood, in Miss Grey's confidence, even before she said,

‘Miss Grey has always been of immeasurable help to me, Fincham, whenever I have requested her assistance.'

‘But not tonight, it would seem,' he returned, after a further confirming scan of the ballroom. ‘I was expecting to find her here this evening.'

The Dowager smiled grimly. ‘Yes, I'm sure you were. And, in truth, she was most looking forward to enjoying the entertainment on this occasion,' she revealed. ‘Until, that is, she succumbed to a sick head just prior to our departure and begged to be excused.'

His lordship returned the compliment by staring intently at the Dowager, his mind having woken up to
the most alarming possibility. ‘Is she, perchance, usually subject to these rapidly developing megrims?'

‘I'm rather surprised you felt the need to ask,' was the prompt response, and his lordship was on his feet in an instant.

‘I must away to your town house, my lady, to ensure that Miss Grey receives my personal good wishes for a speedy recovery.'

For the first time that evening the Dowager Countess betrayed a flicker of animation. ‘I cannot tell you how great a burden you have lifted from my mind, my lord.' She momentarily arrested his immediate departure by adding, ‘You might find it advantageous, should you be unable to pass on your good wishes in person, to have a word with Miss Grey's manservant. He is quite…devoted to her.'

 

Although the butler at the Grenville family's town house had no hesitation in inviting Lord Fincham to step into the hall, he was somewhat taken aback by the abrupt demands of the distinguished visitor.

‘Begging your lordship's pardon, but I cannot possibly adhere to such a request. I'm reliably informed that Miss Grey sought her bedchamber some time ago, complaining of a bad head, and gave strict instructions not to be disturbed until morning.'

‘Yes, I just wager she did!' the Viscount returned, totally unimpressed by this assurance that his quarry was in the house. ‘None the less, be good enough to send a maidservant up to her room without delay to inform Miss Grey that Fincham awaits her below. Should she feel unequal to the task of descending the stairs, then you may tell her I am quite agreeable to attending her in her bedchamber. And if you manage to
attain a response to that…I'm a Dutchman!' his lordship added, handing over his hat and cloak to the astonished servant. ‘I'll bide my time in here.'

Without awaiting a response, the Viscount sauntered across to a door on the right of the hall. Although he had never been a very frequent visitor to the house in past years, he had called upon the late Earl on the odd occasion and knew the door led to a small front parlour.

Save for the fire in the grate, the room was in darkness, so his lordship occupied his time by pushing a taper into the flames and going about lighting the candles in the various wall sconces. He had just completed the task when he detected a slight noise and turned to see a middle-aged, stocky individual limping into the room with the aid of a stick. ‘I've seen you before, have I not?'

‘Aye, m'lord, that you 'ave. 'Twere in the park t'other week, when I were with Miss Georgie.'

His lordship nodded, recalling the particular occasion with scant pleasure. ‘You'd best sit yourself. Clearly you are in some discomfort.'

Lord Fincham waited for the servant to do as bidden before addressing him again. ‘Now, so that we do not misunderstand each other, I shall make several things perfectly clear at the outset. Firstly, I am convinced your mistress is not under this roof, so pray do not waste my time attempting to persuade me otherwise. Secondly, wherever she is has something to do with her—how shall I phrase it?—somewhat unorthodox behaviour of last summer, has it not?

‘Come, man,' his lordship urged, when the servant continued to gnaw at his bottom lip, clearly deeply troubled. He lowered his gaze to the swollen ankle and
an idea occurred to him. ‘Has she gone somewhere in your stead?'

This at last achieved a result. ‘I begged 'er not to go, m'lord, but she wouldn't listen. She can be an 'eadstrong little filly at times. Said she could manage, and not to fret none. All I was to do was let 'er back in by the side door later. But I'm that worried, m'lord. Anything might 'appen to 'er, even dressed as she is.'

His lordship clapped a hand over his eyes. ‘Oh, my God! Don't tell me she's donned boy's raiment again. It would fool no one of real discernment, at least not for long!'

‘You try telling 'er, m'lord!' Clearly the servant was at the end of his tether. ‘Once she's taken it into 'er 'ead to do something, there's no stopping 'er. I could tell you things that would make your 'air curl.'

‘I'm sure you could, but pray do not attempt to do so. I've enough to contend with at the moment,' his lordship returned, smiling despite the fact he was no less concerned than the servant. ‘Instead, tell me where she intended going tonight. Come on, man,' he urged again, when only silence followed. ‘I'm not asking you to betray your mistress's trust by revealing why she has gone. All I want to know is where she is so that I might return her safely.'

His lordship had to wait moments only before his worst fears were confirmed. ‘Dear God! One of the most noisome parts of the city!'

‘Yer think I don't know that, sir?' There was real perturbation in the servant's deep voice now. ‘I did m'best to stop 'er, then 'elp er. I dirtied 'er face with coal dust, and gave 'er a pair of old gloves to wear to 'ide those lily-white 'ands of hers. And I suggested
she take a pistol with 'er an' all. A good shot is Miss Georgie!'

His lordship was distinctly unimpressed. ‘Is she, b'gad! I cannot imagine that will be of much help if she is set upon by a gang of ruffians. But I'm sure you did your best,' he added, after noting the servant's crestfallen expression. ‘I do not believe I caught your name?'

‘Digby, m'lord.'

‘Well, Digby, let us see if I cannot bring your young mistress back safely to you.'

‘What do you intend to do, if you should find 'er, m'lord?' Digby asked, thereby momentarily arresting his lordship's progress across to the door.

‘Ring her blasted neck for putting me to so much trouble!'

‘Oh, well, that's all right then, sir. And then bring 'er 'ome, eh? I'll be waiting at the side door, ready to let you in.'

His lordship nodded in acknowledgement, and then wasted no time in collecting his cloak and hat and going back outside to his waiting carriage. ‘Perkins,' he called up to his coachman, ‘we are to head back to Berkeley Square.'

‘Very good, m'lord.'

‘Have you, perchance, a loaded pistol within easy reach?'

‘That I ‘ave, m'lord', and, so saying, the coachman reached beneath his seat and handed the firearm down to his lordship.

‘Excellent! And now, Perkins, we'll away homeward, but I want you to stop at the first available vehicle for hire you see. Where I intend going my own equipage
would look decidedly out of place and might draw far too much attention.'

No sooner had his lordship settled himself inside his carriage, concealing the firearm in the pocket of his cloak, than Perkins was drawing the team to a halt again and he was obliged to leave the comfort of his own conveyance.

Waiting only for Perkins to move away, he then addressed himself to the jarvey, giving precise instructions where he wished to go. The jarvey's surprise was not unexpected. ‘Evidently you are familiar with the locale?'

‘Aye, sir,' he admitted. ‘Not that I'd go there through choice, at least not at this time o' night.'

‘Then we are as one, my good man, for neither would I,' Fincham assured him. ‘But needs must, as the saying goes. My confounded nephew has taken it into his head to explore that part of the city, which has caused his mother a deal of distress, and so she has enlisted my aid in order to return the rascal to the bosom of his family.'

‘Deserves to 'ave 'is breeches dusted, m'lord!'

His lordship smiled grimly. ‘If only you knew how often I'd been tempted to do precisely that. But before he receives his just deserts, he must first be found.' Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a shiny golden guinea and tossed it up into the appreciative palm of the coachman. ‘Be assured there will be more if I'm successful in my endeavours.'

The jarvey looked to be experienced in the ways of the world and of the road. ‘I assume you are able to protect yourself in the event of trouble?'

‘I am, sir. Keep it safe under the seat.'

‘A man after my own head groom's heart, I perceive. Excellent! We must hope, of course, that we are not
called upon to resort to violence.' He attempted to judge the coachman's mettle, and after a moment or two felt he might have struck lucky and found himself an ally. ‘All the same, I do not expect my nephew to become a willing captive. I might be called upon to adopt rather rough-and-ready means in order to persuade him to return home.'

‘Don't you worry, sir. I've a length of rope under m' seat. Never knows when it's going to come in 'andy, like. You're quite welcome to it, if it will be of any use.'

‘Thank you, I'll bear it in mind. Let us waste no more time.' So saying, he scrambled into the antiquated vehicle, which had long since lost what springs it might once have possessed.