Miss Quinn's Quandary (11 page)

Larissa gasped in shock and pointed. “How … how… how….”

“They’ll think I’ve pinched the bloody thing.”

“Well, they just might be right,” Larissa said and gazed at him,
wide-eyed. “Did you?”

“Of course not. However, the same who believe we’re married will
just as easily accept the notion I took this.” Sir Randall cast an accusing
glance in Larissa’s direction. “I do believe there is one of us that has been
known to stray from the path of truth every now and again.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?” she retorted.

“I need not imply. I know it for a fact. You forget, I spent some
time as your husband, Mr. Quinn.”

“How is it you come to have the necklace?” She glanced at the
diamond pendant in Sir Randall’s hand.

“I’m not entirely sure, but with all the jostling and shoving
that goes on at a rout, someone could have easily slid it into my pocket
without my knowledge.”

“But who would have done such a terrible thing?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But I need to return it. Anonymously of
course.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “And just how do you plan to accomplish
this?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he said. The coach came to a stop in front
of Rushton house. “But I will think of something.” He slid the jewel back into
his pocket.

The following afternoon, Larissa walked into the so-called blue
parlor. She had not meant to surprise Sir Randall, but found him leaning over
the table. It almost looked as if he were concealing something.

“Oh, it’s you.” Sir Randall lurched, spinning to face Larissa
when he heard her enter.

“What have you there?” Larissa peered to see what he had behind
his back.

“It’s.” Sir Randall glanced around in the empty room. “The
necklace,” he whispered.

Larissa mimicked him and looked about before speaking. “You still
have it?”

“When would I have had an opportunity to rid myself of it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she said, indignant.

“I can’t just hand the thing over to one of the footmen and have
him
leg it to the duchess with my profound apologies, now,
can I?” He slid the small package into his pocket.

“I suppose not. How do you plan to…
”

“Please—” He shushed her. “Not so loud.”

“As you can see for yourself, Sir Randall, we are quite alone.”

“One cannot be too careful.” His dark eyes, marked with a tinge
of suspicion, stared into hers. “As they say, the walls have ears.”

“Do they?” Larissa widened her eyes, mimicking his, and looked
around the room.

“How do you think the servants know so much?”

Larissa imagined an eye watching at every crack and an ear
pressed at every door. Heeding the warning, she slid closer and spoke in a
hushed voice. “What are you planning?”

“Well,” he began. “I am planning to return this to Norfolk House
by post.”

“By post?”

“The duchess will gladly pay the post for its return, and I will
be equally glad to be rid of it. They’d have the devil of a time tracing it
back to me.” He shrugged at the simplicity of his idea. “Nothing will look
amiss. We’ll look to all the world to be an ordinary couple, out about the
streets attending to everyday errands.”

“We?” Larissa repeated in alarm.

“With your help I’m sure I could manage.”

“My help? I don’t want you to make me a part of this.”

Sir Randall smiled. “You’re already a part of this, involved
beyond belief.”

“No,” she groaned in denial. But it was true. She hadn’t thought
of it, but her alliance with him, however imagined, was real in the minds
outside that room. It was a premise she had hardly had a chance to warm up to.
Everyone else thought she and Sir Randall were married. Everyone. She had to
remember that. If she could be of help to him, she should cooperate.

“All right,” she agreed against her better judgment. “I’ll
accompany you.”

“Thank you.” He smiled.

When Larissa and Randall returned from running their morning
errands, including a successful trip to the post office, the butler informed
them, “While you were out, a Mrs. Rutledge stopped by.”

“My aunt’s companion,” Larissa reminded Randall as they exchanged
looks.

He recalled exactly who Mrs. Rutledge was, he had just forgotten
about the chaperone’s due arrival. “Where is she now, Laurie? And what the
devil’s kept her? She was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“I did not inquire, sir. It seems in light of recent events, Mrs.
Rutledge thought it best to use her time in London to better advantage by
visiting her sister before returning home and awaiting further word from the
countess.”

“She left? Returning home?” Larissa did not sound pleased. “What
are we—
”

“How did she come to learn these ‘recent events?
’ .”
Randall asked, suspicious that the butler might
have been the source of the news.

“I cannot say, sir,” Laurie replied with his indomitably impassive
face. “And there is a Lord William
Felgate
waiting to
see you.”

Lord William waited in the parlor and stood when Larissa and
Randall entered the room. “I hate to pop in unexpectedly on you like this.”
William shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

“What a pleasant surprise, Wills. Do sit down.”

Mrs. Drum brought the tea cart. Larissa waved her away, poured,
and handed the first cup to their guest.

“Bumping into you last night reminded me it’s been at least a
year since I’ve seen you.” Lord William accepted his tea. “I’ll be dashing off
to the old fortress in a few days. Had enough of the social scene, if you know
what I mean. Would you care to join me?”

Larissa remained quiet and watched several emotions play over Sir
Randall’s face.

“Oh, do say you’ll come,” Lord William urged, sounding near
desperation. “It’s going to be ghastly dull about the old place without you.”

“Me?” Sir Randall gulped.

“And your lovely wife, of course,” Lord William added, bestowing
upon Larissa a magnetic smile.

“Yes, why not,” Sir Randall agreed. Larissa rested her
disbelieving stare on him.

What was the man thinking?

“It’s all settled then.” Lord William placed his untouched tea on
the low table and shot to his feet. “Thanks for the tea,” he said while making
for the door.

“You haven’t touched yours yet,” Larissa called after him.

“Must be off,” he said. “I’ve still Terrance to tell of our
company.” She could hear Lord William’s staccato steps dancing down the stairs.

“I do believe your wits have gone begging.” Larissa glared at Sir
Randall, mystified at his effrontery.

“I think it really might be best if we disappeared into the
country. Let this matter of the marriage scandal cool.”

That was enough for her. In the country, she would be safe. Away
from London, away from the gossip, she need not endure the torturous advances
Sir Randall made toward her for the ton’s benefit. Unfortunately, she would not
be away from him. And the one person she felt she needed the most protection
from was Sir Randall.

That afternoon, William’s coach waited outside for Larissa’s and
Sir Randall’s luggage.

“We’ll be traveling in Lord William’s transport with him. Please
make sure the trunks are loaded and sent with Abby,” Sir Randall instructed
Laurie.

“As you say, sir.”

Sir Randall glared at Larissa. “I’ll not have you telling anyone
like Mrs. Briggs your husband considers you not genteel enough to have a lady’s
maid this time.”

With a final farewell to Laurie and without the presence of Mrs.
Rutledge, Larissa, Sir Randall, and Lord William departed for
Carswell
Castle. Just four hours outside London, Larissa
knew the trip would be a short one.

Lord William had already succumbed to the transport’s motion.
Reclining against the far corner with his feet propped up on the seat, he was
fast asleep. Sir Randall sat across from her.

“I’ve left word with Laurie where we can be reached and
instructions that it is imperative Uncle Cyrus should do so when he returns. I
have no doubt he’ll soon have everything all right and tight. You’ll see,” Sir
Randall assured Larissa. He removed his hat and tossed it in the seat next to
her.

“And until then, do Lord Melton and Lord William expect to see us
as a married couple?” Larissa wondered if Sir Randall’s forward ways would
indeed be left in London.

“As gentlemen, men anyway, I do not believe they would ever
notice the difference.” Sir Randall leaned across the coach and murmured,
“Unless of course, you wish me to continue to dote on you as a loving husband?”

“I wish you would stay in your own seat, if you please,” she remarked,
pushing him back.

Sir Randall laughed. “My dear, you have the most charming ways
about you.”

Larissa glanced at the dozing Lord William. “I would hate to
assume he couldn’t hear us. Is that not what placed us in this
bumblebroth
to start?”

“He’ll not be hearing anything I haven’t told him already. It’s
not my fault he doesn’t believe we’re not man and wife. I promise, Larissa,
while we are married I shall behave as a proper husband should. I would not for
the world make you look like a fool by parading with another woman behind your
back.”

“By ‘proper husband’ you mean …”

“All I meant was proper escort, companion, until such time you no
longer need my protection.”

“Of course. I could not have any objection to that.”

“It is to assure you are properly looked after, I’m afraid your
aunt would insist.”

“As would your uncle.”

“And how right he would be,” Sir Randall confirmed with every
confidence.

One of the coach’s wheels hit a rut in the road. Lord William
sprang awake. “I do beg your pardon,” he murmured, a hint of sleep remained in
his voice, giving it a rasp. “Must have dropped off.” He pushed his hat back
onto his forehead and drew a hand over his eyes. “Have I missed anything?”

Atop the rise in the distance stood
Carswell
Castle. “There it is,” Lord William announced several hours later. The coach
headed up the long drive.

“I can see you’re disappointed in the old place. It has a moat,
battlements, and towering turrets looming from above,” Lord William enlightened
her. “Everything one could want in a castle. My brother knows all
the who
-built-what-when. He can tell you names and dates if
you are really interested. I’m not. It’s a crumbly old thing. Ghastly, really.”

Stepping into the main house, William announced, “Here we are.”

“Shall I have tea served?” Jenkins asked, taking the travelers’
outerwear.

“Tea? Deuced hot and dusty ride we’ve been on.” William offered
with distaste, appearing to forget his guests. “Oh, yes, by all means, tea … in
the parlor.”

Larissa and Randall followed William down the hall until he came
to a stop, reluctant to step into the parlor where refreshments were to be
served. William eyed the doorway across the hall. Behind closed door lay a
gentleman’s domain. A safe haven, a fine collection of books, and most
importantly, a well-stocked supply of liquor.

“Would you care to take a turn about the garden before we sit to
take tea?” Randall asked Larissa. “I know I could do with stretching my legs a
bit.”

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” she replied, accepting Randall’s
outstretched arm.

“Care to join us?” he asked, glancing up at William, who grew
nervous with anticipation.

“No, no, you go right on ahead.” His answer was quick. “You must
see the rose arbor. It’s toward the back, on the far left side of the garden.
New since you’ve been here last,” William directed at Randall. “No need to
hurry, though. Do take your time,” he said while waving them out the back door.

Randall could not hide his amusement at his friend’s eagerness to
drive them away so he could smuggle into the library for a spot of drink. He
knew William didn’t consider tea worth the water it was made with.

When he and Larissa stepped into the garden, she pulled her hand
from Randall’s arm, and kept a steady pace beside him. “I think I could learn
to like this,” she said, taking in the expansive surroundings.

“It is very nice,” Randall replied. Not only did he admire the
well-maintained gardens, but it was Larissa he viewed as he spoke.

“There’s the rose garden.” She pointed and jogged ahead,
disappearing through the volume of flowering bushes. They grew in profusion
along the latticed sides of the wide arbor.

Randall leaned against a pole and watched her stroll along the
lined rosebushes on the far side of the enclosed garden. She admired the
flowers on each bush and sampled the fragrance of only a few as she passed.
Completing her tour, she stopped under the arch, refusing to near him.

He felt a slow, lazy smile steal across his lips. “Shall I tell
you the bloom on your cheek exactly matches the blush of that rose?”

Her eyes shifted to gaze at the pink of the flower, then lowered,
glancing to the ground. “I’ve done it now,” he chided himself. “I’ve put you to
the blush, throwing the similarity off. You’re nearly crimson.”

He reached out and touched her, tilting her chin up. His fingers
savored the smoothness of her skin. Randall felt intoxicated with the warm
scent of roses surrounding him.

Larissa drew a long, slow breath, and whispered, “You promised.”
No doubt she read his thought.

He removed his hand. “So I did.” was his woeful reply. “In the
future, I must remember not to make such pronouncements in haste. I’ve already
come to regret this one.”

After their stroll, Larissa and Sir Randall sat down to tea. Lord
William did join them, but did not drink.

“I’ve instructed Jenkins to place you on the first floor of the
west wing with me,” Lord William explained. “The old place is rather large. If
we don’t share the same floor we might not see each other for days.”