Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) (12 page)

Victoria tried to force her lips to move, but she couldn’t. She had already made up her mind not to pry into Carruthers’s past, but it seemed as if he couldn’t hold it all in. Inadvertently she had pushed him into declaring everything.

“I hadn’t meant to pry,” she said cautiously. She sat upright and patted his hand. It seemed to calm him down, although he looked at her small hand in horror as it covered his.

“Madam, you cannot do that, you are my employer!” he said, anguished.

Victoria rolled her eyes. After all he had done for her. “Simon, I didn’t really mean for you to tell me about your mother. It’s these pauper farms that I’ve been visiting. They seem to be suffering from a spate of young women leaving them for life on the streets.”

Carruthers shrugged, a mixture of horror and relief on his face. “You mean you weren’t asking about my mother?”

Victoria shook her head. “No.”

“Oh. err, yes. Some women do find the streets more lucrative. There are no laws against it. And they can earn more money.” He looked at his feet. “I’m sorry about the outburst. It has been on my mind lately.”

Victoria nodded. “I can understand.” Surely she did. She desperately needed to talk to someone about Bill. But there was nobody—so she had ended up talking to an empty room. Just as she ended up talking to that odious portrait in the hall as an outlet about her dead husband.

“But what I don’t understand is that Mr. Robertson was very keen to gloss over the fact that he had lost two girls in a month, and Mr. Deacon was extremely worried that he had lost three girls in three weeks. Pretty young ones, I understand.”

Carruthers frowned. “That is a lot.”

“Yes. And every time Mr. Durnish seems to have recently visited looking for staff for his new house.”

“That’s not unusual, as you know.”

“No.” But Victoria did not believe in coincidences. And neither had Colchester.
Analyse what you have learned
.

“I think we might take Mr. Durnish’s investigation, Simon.”

“You mean the one to find his brother?”

“Yes.”

“But if he is involved in the disappearance of young women, surely you should not meet with him alone like you do with the others?”

“No. That is why you are going to go on my behalf.”

Carruthers pulled at his sleeves again. “Are you sure, my lady?”

Victoria nodded. She had seen Carruthers in action, making enquiries, dealing with her own visitors, turfing out the old Colchester servants… he was formidable, and always inscrutable. He could have given Victoria a run for her money if she hadn’t found his pressure points. That is what made him her perfect butler. And the man to meet Mr. Durnish.

“I will observe the meeting. Somewhere open, yet somewhere I can still listen in.”

“Very good.”

“Leave me for now, Carruthers. I need to do some planning.”

“Ahem,” Carruthers coughed.

“Yes?”

“You asked me to remind you about Mr. Cryne.”

Victoria sighed. The odious Mr. Cryne. There was no way that she could avoid Miss Fanthorpe since she had become Miss Guthrie’s best friend. It was likely that she would be appearing at Agatha’s salon every week, and there was no way that Victoria was going to miss that the next time. Especially as she needed to interrogate Celine further on her
treatment
.

“Have you found out anything further?”

“I made enquiries to a young maid who has just started working in his father’s household. Apparently the young master’s behavior has changed somewhat recently.”

“Not unusual if he is in so much debt.”

“As far as I understand it, Mr. Cryne is constantly in debt, but this time his father has refused to bail him out.”

“He did say that his grandmother would die soon and leave him some money.”

“The maid mentioned some hullabaloo concerning grandmama’s wishes to leave all her money to the Lisson Grove Animal Sanctuary.”

“Oh dear.” Victoria almost felt sorry for Mr. Cryne.
Almost.
“What about women? That was the main point of finding out the information.”

Carruthers frowned. “I asked the maid. She said that there hadn’t been anyone recently and that is unusual as Mr. Cryne likes the high steppers and was normally unusually forward in his dalliances.”

“Good news for Miss Fanthorpe,” Victoria murmured.

“That is if a leopard can change his spots,” Carruthers said unexpectedly.

Victoria raised her eyebrows and looked directly at Carruthers. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t mean to say anything out of turn, my lady.”

Victoria shrugged. “You didn’t. I just want to know exactly what you mean.”

Carruthers stood. “It is my observation that a gentleman who changes his ladies as he changes his cravat will never settle down with one lady. They like the excitement of the chase, the ownership and then the discard. To them it is a game.”

Victoria swallowed and sat up straighter. Was Carruthers trying to tell her something?

“Mr. Cryne is up to something if it is to be believed that he is not currently involved with numerous women. Or so says the housemaid,” he continued hurriedly.

Victoria let out a puff of air in relief. “Thank you, Carruthers. That will be all. I will let you know what I decide about the meeting with Mr. Durnish.”

Carruthers nodded, resuming his mask. “As you wish, my lady.” He closed the door softly after him as he left.

There was one thing that Victoria still hadn’t done with regard to Mr. Cryne and that was look in the book on her desk. She didn’t like to open it very often—only once every investigation, in fact, which made it sixteen times altogether. Once for every investigation and twice for just after he,
Colchester,
had died.

Victoria moved back to the desk and gently fingered the edges of the book. It was bound in an unassuming dark red leather.  Like dried blood. Certainly the secrets it contained were dangerous enough that people would shed blood to have them erased. Thankfully it appeared no one was aware that she owned such a thing.

She opened the book to where the C section started. Colchester’s cramped handwriting crawled across the page. Tamping down on the shudders, Victoria ran her eye down the left hand side of the page, Carrington, Carlyle, Colthaven, Carsbrook, Candin, Canterwell—Cryne.

She sighed. It was too much to ask that there wouldn’t be an entry on the Cryne family in the book. Colchester’s knowledge had been encyclopedic. He had started the book many years before her marriage, and some of the secrets were forty years old, with many of the protagonists dead.

This entry was different from the others though. The others were always straightforward. Mr. K— is not Lady H—’s son. Earl P— has debts of thirty thousand. Mrs. N— is in love with Viscount C— but married to Mr. N— and so on. The Cryne entry merely had a date.

1880. Too close to brother. Page thirty-one.

Victoria let out a frustrated puff of air. It wasn’t the first time that she had heard about page thirty-one.   Colchester had warned her of it when he had died. She flipped the pages. Page thirty one was not much further on. But as she had found the first time when she had opened the book, page thirty-one did not exist. In fact, it was as if it had never been part of the book. The facing pages were numbered neatly thirty, then thirty two. No small slips of paper showed where a page had been torn out, or where thirty one might have been.

She had only looked for it once before, the second time that she had opened the book, when she was re-entering society after the stipulated time of mourning for Colchester. The look on his face when he had died was as if he had seen a ghost. He had been sure that something on page thirty one would return to haunt him. It had killed him instead. Victoria did not want anyone or anything to prevent her return to normality. And nothing had.

Apart from now, two years on, and that mention of page thirty-one… again.

CHAPTER 10

Celine shivered and pouted. “Mr. Standish, you know just how to make a woman happy.”

Bill nodded and took a step backwards. Many other women had said the same. But not many women had demanded that they meet in such an open location. The bush behind him tickled at his neck with a branch. Bloody Regent’s Park and its wildlife.

He tugged at his hand, but Celine would not let go. She pulled him playfully towards him, her heavily made-up eyes hooded, and her lips pursed. Quickly he turned his face to the side, as Celine placed a large kiss on his cheek and gasped.

She continued to hold his hand as he twisted his shoulders to see the glowering face of Edward Fiske, mounted on an elegant chestnut mare behind them. Bill tensed as a look of rage crossed the usually boring countenance of Edward’s tight face. For once, the businessman, whom Bill had only met a couple of times before at White’s, had unbuttoned his normally immaculately pressed coat.

“Edward,” Bill said, still attempting to rescue his hand. But Celine would not let him go. “How are you, old man?”

“Never better,” said Edward in a curt voice. “I can see that you are quite alright, so no need to ask.”

“Look, it’s not quite what it looks like.” Bill turned back to Celine, who now seemed to be molded to his side. Gently he lifted her and placed her away from him. He turned back to Edward. “Tell him, Celine.”

Celine lifted her chin. “No.”

No
?

“Celine, I told you to speak to him.”

“That’s quite alright, Bill. I can see the writing is on the wall.” Edward did not look once at Celine. “Do not expect diamond earrings, my dear. That’s not my style. I can see that you have already picked up a new man, although surprisingly not one as rich as myself. Consider that your consolation.”

Edward wheeled the pretty mare in a tight circle, and, digging his heels into the horse, set her off at a leaping canter.

“Goodness,” Celine said.

“I was thinking of something stronger,” Bill muttered. “I thought you said you were going to speak to him?”

Celine turned to him with shining eyes. “Wasn’t he magnificent?”

“Celine, are we quite talking about the same person?” Bill said cautiously. “The man who just gave you your
congé
? That bean counter who mistakenly believes that you are now under my protection?”

Celine nodded, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Bill breathed deeply as his shoulders tensed under the still unfamiliar formal coat. “You asked me to meet you in Regent’s Park knowing that he would ride by.”

“Yes. He’s as predictable as clockwork,” Celine said proudly, gazing after the galloping horse.

“Celine!”

Celine glanced back at him. The smile left from her face. “I, I thought you wouldn’t mind. After all, you have
comforted
me quite a bit.”

“I told you to speak to him.”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t get near him. Every time I saw him, he would ignore me. Especially if he was with
that
man.” Celine shuddered lightly. “There was something about him that reminded me of the men I met in the stews.”

Bill held his breath. It was unusual of Celine to mention her past.

“Not quite a gentleman, nor an ordinary man. They wore their clothes well, but underneath they were like animals, no morals. They would eat other men for supper.”

“I wish you hadn’t picked on me to exact your revenge.”

“Why? You are single. You positively revel in the female attention. And there is no one that you are interested in at the moment.”

You’re wrong.
Bill wanted to shout and stamp his feet. Finally, when he had just got Victoria Colchester biting on his fishing line, he had landed a shark who was threatening to pull the whole business under. But he couldn’t say anything about it. It was his business. Victoria wouldn’t thank him to go broadcasting their encounter far and wide.

“Just promise me that you will keep the contents of our encounters to yourself.” Bill waved his finger at an unrepentant Celine.

. “I can’t do that,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve already told Lady Colchester about the ‘treatment’ you have been giving me. She seemed
most
interested.

“You told Lady Colchester that I was giving you ‘treatment’?”

“Yes.” Celine’s laugh petered to a giggle. I don’t think the young prude knew what I was talking about.”

Bill could attest to that. In fact he might be in need of some
treatment
by the time the episode was over.

“I don’t want anyone else seeing us together.” Bill turned on his heel and strode away.

Women would be the end of him. Thankfully his next meeting was with a very level-headed man. Although judging by the man’s wedding day, it seemed even the irascible Earl Harding had a weak spot.

It had come to Bill after he had woken from his rum induced stupor, Brutus snoring gently against his knee. Following Henry’s advice had failed because he had taken the man literally. He had used people that he trusted to undertake the information gathering. And they had come back with nothing because they were not trained spies.

Harding, however, was well known as a one man band, like Bill himself. He had a strategy for every occasion. If Bill could just get him to point him in the right direction, then Bill could do the rest by himself. Hades would most certainly be at his house in London, because Celine had said that Lady Harding had been at Lady Anglethorpe’s salon the week before.

Hades, Earl Harding, greeted Bill with a surly look, and walked round him.

“At least you haven’t got Brutus with you. Freddie told me what he did to Lady Colchester’s dog. I wouldn’t like the same to happen to Arturo.”

“Granwich pointed me in your direction,” Bill twisted the truth slightly. “I’m looking for Pedro Moreno, and as you were involved in his capture I wondered if you might have some tips as to how to err, recapture him?”

Hades laughed unexpectedly. “Rather you than me. He was a slippery fellow that one.”

“Don’t I just know it,” Bill muttered.