The Marriage Trap (19 page)

The very thought of it made her want to strangle him.

Sniffing, mumbling under her breath, she climbed into bed.

“Naturally, when we received your momentous news, we dropped everything and posted up to town, fearing you had taken leave of your senses.”

“What Ash means,” elaborated Brand Hamilton, “is that we wanted to be among the first to congratulate you. This calls for champagne.”

“Thank you,” said Jack. “It's not every day a man gets married.”

When Ash sighed theatrically, Jack grinned. In their longstanding friendship, they had perfected these skirmishes with words, and rather enjoyed them.

To the waiter who was hovering, Brand said, “Champagne.” There was no need to add “well chilled,” or “the best the house has to offer.” They were in a private parlor in Watiers's club, and only the best was ever served here.

When the champagne was poured, Brand gave the toast. “To the fair Elinor and our comrade, Jack. Long life and happiness to you both.”

Of the three men, Brand was the darkest. His skin seemed to have a perpetual tan. His hair, cropped at the collar, was ink-black and his eyes were the true blue of a Cornishman's. With the right clothes, and in a different setting, he could easily have passed himself off as a gypsy. Among friends, he could relax, as at present. For the most part, however, he was an intensely private person and shared his inner thoughts with only a select few. Jack and Ash were among the select few, but even with them he could be reserved.

They made allowances. Though Brand was the son of an aristocrat, he'd been born on the wrong side of the blanket. He'd met prejudice in his time and had developed a thick shell to protect himself.

There was no reserve now as he quizzed Jack about how the fair Elinor had stormed the citadel. “I know,” he went on, “there must be more to your capitulation than Ash told me,” and he raised his brows drolly, inviting a response.

Jack removed a speck of lint from his sleeve, then looked up with a smile. “Ellie and I got off to a shaky start,” he said, “but that's behind us now. The important thing is, I couldn't be happier with the way things have turned out,” and in as few words as were necessary, he disabused them of the suspicion that he'd been forced into a marriage he did not want.

He was bending the truth a little. Circumstances
had
forced him to do right by Ellie, but now that they were wed, he didn't regret it. What he regretted was that the marriage was still in name only.

If he told his friends, they would laugh themselves silly, or they would bombard him with advice. He knew what he would say if Brand or Ash were in his shoes.
A man should be master of his own woman.
Whoever coined that old saw didn't know Ellie.

He didn't want to master her. For the first time in his life, he'd found a woman whose opinion mattered to him. He had to exert himself to please. And she was hard to please.

His friends were looking at him expectantly. Where was he? “I couldn't be happier with the way things have turned out,” he repeated, “and that's all I have to say on the matter. Now, can we order luncheon? I have a series of appointments this afternoon with prospective tutors for Ellie's brother and there's something important I want to discuss with you first.”

Brand and Ash exchanged a quick look, then Brand called the waiter over and gave their order. When the waiter left, he looked at Jack. “We're all ears,” he said.

“I presume,” said Jack, “that Ash told you about the commission I was given by Sir Charles Stuart?”

Brand nodded. “Your wife's brother is suspected of murder. You were to take a statement from him and send it to Sir Charles.”

“That has already been done. I also had to take a statement from his friend, Milton, because he can verify Robbie's account of things.” He paused, marshaling his thoughts. “I'd best begin at the beginning, when things started to go wrong for Ellie.”

Though he tried to keep his account brief and to the point, he told them everything, beginning with Robbie running up debts, Ellie raising the money to pay them off by gambling at the Palais Royal, and ending with the statements Robbie and Milton had made to his attorney.

After a prolonged silence, Ash said, “Ye Gods! I'd no idea that Miss Hill would turn out to be so interesting. A virtuoso, you say? I've heard about them. If I really were a fortune hunter, I'd marry her on the spot.”

“Except that she's already married,” Brand interposed. “Can we return to what is really important? Jack, tell me more about the attack on Ellie. You're not satisfied that it was a random break-in?”

“No.” Jack raised his glass of champagne and took a small swallow. “What self-respecting burglar would break into her modest lodgings?”

Ash offered, “A burglar of ‘modest' ambitions? Maybe all he wanted was the price of a tankard of ale.”

“But nothing was taken. Her rooms were ransacked and he was lying in wait for her.”

“Perhaps,” Brand intervened, “he was after the Cardvale diamonds, and when he couldn't find them, he waited for her to return, with some idea of forcing her to tell him where they were hidden.”

“That won't do,” said Ash. “Jack gave her an alibi for the time the diamonds were taken. It's common knowledge. And at the time, he had nothing to gain by it. Ellie was practically a stranger to him.”

“I wonder,” said Brand. He took a sip of champagne before continuing. “For the sake of argument, let's say the thief wasn't looking for the diamonds. You see what this means?”

Jack had thought about this so often, he had his answer ready. “That Ellie has something in her possession that is valuable to the thief, without her being aware of it.”

“What, for instance?” asked Ash, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“I haven't the least idea,” replied Jack. “I've searched her rooms, but have yet to find anything valuable or out of place. Incidentally, I've kept on the rooms for the time being, in the hope that the thief will return and we'll apprehend him.” To Brand's questioning look, he nodded. “I've hired Bow Street Runners to keep an eye on the place.”

Ash was astonished. “Don't you think you're making mountains out of molehills?”

Jack shrugged. “I sincerely hope so.”

Brand was shaking his head.

“What?” asked Ash.

“Too many misadventures for one slip of a girl.” He enumerated them on his fingers. “Someone who is close to Ellie, her brother, discovers the body of Louise Daudet and is himself attacked. Four days later, Lady Cardvale's diamonds are stolen and Ellie is implicated, until Jack gives her an alibi. Two weeks later, Ellie's lodgings are ransacked and the thief is still on the premises, possibly lying in wait for her.” He looked at Jack. “Have I left anything out?”

Jack smiled ruefully. “You'll think I'm delusional, but the other day, quite by chance, or so it seemed, Ellie ran into Cardvale's man of business. His name is Paul Derby and she remembers him from when she once lived with her cousin. Derby, she told me, was very curious about Robbie, his domestic arrangements, his plans for the future, that sort of thing. His questions made her feel uneasy.”

“Sounds to me as though he was being excessively polite,” said Ash.

“There's something else.” Jack went on, “When Robbie and Milton made their statements to my attorney—separately, mind—their accounts matched practically to the letter. Even my attorney said that their answers were too pat to be credible. They're hiding something, but I haven't the least idea what it is.”

“Good Lord!” exclaimed Ash. “And we thought dueling was risky. These Brans-Hills could teach us a thing or two about living dangerously.”

The humorous comment was just what was needed to lighten Jack's mood. It did seem incredible that his former tutor's offspring should have become embroiled in some sinister plot. In another month, if there were no more incidents, he would look back on this and laugh at his fanciful turn of mind.

In the meantime, however, it gave him a good feeling to know that he had two good friends whose support he could count on. Ash was like himself, an amateur. Brand was different. He was a newspaperman. He was used to investigating plots and conspiracies and blazoning his findings on the front page of his newspapers. He would enjoy solving a good mystery.

A newspaperman. That was a misnomer. He was master of his own little empire and owned a string of newspapers in all the major cities of the southern counties.

When their smiles died away, Jack said, “I told you that Robbie isn't the only suspect in the case. French authorities are also looking for Louise Daudet's dresser and the man of mystery.”

“The rich protector for whom she is supposed to have given up Robbie?” said Brand.

“Yes. But I can't help feeling that Ellie, through her brother, has become inadvertently involved, and that's the assumption I'm working on.”

“I think that's a fair assumption,” said Brand. He added quietly, “How can we help?”

Jack drained his glass. “I thought we'd begin in a small way, by investigating anyone who knew Ellie in Paris and is now back in town. You see what I'm getting at? This person must have been in Paris when Louise was murdered and then in town when Ellie's house was ransacked. Frankly, I don't know where else to begin.”

“We'll need a list of names,” said Ash.

Jack grinned. He fished in his pocket and withdrew a piece of folded paper. “I anticipated your request. There are only a few names here. I'm sure it's not a complete list, but at least it's a start.” He offered the list to Brand. “I added Paul Derby's name. He may not have been in Paris when the murder took place, but he is connected to Cardvale.”

“Thank you.” Brand's tone was dry. “You think of everything.”

Jack left immediately after they had eaten. Brand ordered coffee for two and he and Ash went over everything they'd heard from Jack. Ash was of the opinion that they were “tilting at windmills,” as he put it, but Brand was keeping an open mind until he'd dug a little deeper. One thing they agreed on. The former Ellie Brans-Hill had well and truly caught their friend.

“What is she like?” Brand asked at one point.

Ash shrugged. “I hardly know. I only saw her twice, once at the embassy and once at the Palais Royal. As a paid companion, she was exactly as you would expect, an aging spinster who dressed modestly. As Aurora, she was a taking little thing.”

“A schemer?”

“I think not or Jack would never have married her. I think she's as innocent as they come. She is, after all, a vicar's daughter.” Ash shook his head. “And now she's a countess, poor girl.”

“Yes,” said Brand. “She may have been elevated to the rank of countess, but that doesn't entitle her to any privileges. Those society matrons can be vicious. They won't let her forget that she was once little more than a servant.”

He understood prejudice only too well. He was a duke's illegitimate son, and though he'd been well provided for and had attended the best schools and universities, the taint of his birth had followed him like a dark cloud. One good thing had come of it. He'd been driven to succeed, and now, as the owner and publisher of several influential newspapers, he was cultivated by the very people who had once scorned him. No one in society or in the public eye wanted to make an enemy of Brand Hamilton, not when he could so easily destroy their reputations.

Jack and Ash had been his closest friends since they were at Eton together. In fact, they'd been his only friends. They had no idea how much that friendship had meant to him as a boy. How much it still meant to him.

He looked up to find Ash studying him. “What?” he asked.

Ash said, “You're smiling, and that doesn't happen very often. So what's on your mind?”

That observation wiped the smile from Brand's face. “Only idiots smile all the time,” he remarked. “As for what's on my mind, I was contemplating the pleasures of taking in the season. I shall have to ask my valet to shake out my evening clothes. Perhaps a visit to my tailor wouldn't hurt.”

Ash cocked his head to one side. “You never take in the season,” he said. “You despise polite society and its hollow modes and manners. I've heard you say so more times than I can remember.”

Brand let out a patient sigh. “That was before our comrade wed his Elinor. It's our duty to lend our support. And she'll need it, if I know anything about human nature. They'll never forgive or forget that she was once a lady's companion. Are we going to let her fend for herself?”