“Your master has been killed. I’ll send the constable tomorrow. In the meantime, I wish to retrieve Lady Madeline’s possessions. Please direct me to her bedchamber.”
“Yes, milord.”
A group of frightened servants hovered in the corridor. Hart followed the servant upstairs. Maddie’s trunk sat in the middle of her bedchamber floor. He doubted Wakeham intended to send it to her.
“Have the trunk brought down. I’ll collect it tomorrow.” He gazed around and spied Maddie’s impressive riding cups and blue ribbons displayed on a shelf. “Don’t forget those. Make sure the maids check the wardrobe and drawers.”
Hart descended the stairs and went to Wakeham’s bookroom. Taking the chair at the desk, he searched through the stack of papers. He found nothing that gave him even a clue to the lord’s identity. On his way out, a box filled with bottles of French brandy sat by the front door, perhaps waiting to appease Wakeham’s visitor. Hart picked up a bottle. “Mr. Wakeham won’t be needing this,” he said to the worried servant who held open the front door. “I require more servants at Pembury. Any in need of work should apply to my steward, Mr. Carver.”
The distress on the man’s face ebbed away. “Thank you, milord,” he said with a bow.
Hart walked with Boyle past the stables. The coachman and grooms had emerged dazed from their beds and were talking in loud whispers. They stared at Hart as he passed. “What has happened?” one asked him.
“The servants will tell you,” Hart said.
On reaching Blaze, Hart gave Boyle a leg up behind him, and they rode back to Pembury.
After Boyle’s head injury was attended to, they sat together in the library, drinking the purloined French brandy before the fire.
“Well, that went well, milord,” Boyle said with a sigh of satisfaction. “But who is this lord? Did you discover anything?”
“No. I only saw him in profile. The light wasn’t good. But I doubt I’ve met him. I hope to recognize him should I see him again.” Hart took a deep sip of the excellent brandy. “I wonder if he has any plans in mind for me?”
“I hope not, milord.”
“And I. He’s a ruthless man.”
He must spend one more day here with Boyle to consult the magistrate, Sir Joshua Fleming. After a ride over his estate with Rasputin to check on the work done, which need no longer appease Wakeham, or apparently Hart’s uncle’s trustees, he would return home to Maddie.
*
When Maddie andJane returned from a morning walk in the park, Crispin met them at the door. “A note has arrived for you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Crispin.” Surprised, Maddie took it from him, wondering who it might be. She knew of no one in London except her aunt and her cousin, and they were to call in the afternoon.
She went upstairs to her sitting room to read it. At her desk, she sliced it open, finding it to be one of those gossip pamphlets she’d heard about. Much of it would put a lady to the blush. A scandalous piece about Lord W. who had been discovered in flagrante delicto with his maid by Lady W., whose scream could be heard throughout the house. A kerfuffle erupted after she poured the contents of the chamber pot over them both.
Maddie scanned farther down the page. She paused at the mention of a Lord M. and as she read on, grew more horrified.
Ladies will wear black at the news that the rakish Lord M. has married. It appears to have been hastily done, and taken everyone by surprise, including those ladies who have enjoyed his attentions in the past. And that is quite a number! Yours truly has found out little about his new bride, except the lady is young and not yet out, and is the daughter of an earl. Has love smitten the rake no one thought would marry? Or is this marriage one of convenience for them both? Or another reason entirely for the hurried nuptials? We wait with bated breath for her ladyship’s appearance in society! Keen to learn the juicy details.
Maddie gasped and pushed it from her as if it would combust. She rested her head in her hands. It had to be about Hart and herself. How could she face people after this? With a few deep breaths, another thought occurred to her: Who had wished her to see it?
Seething, she went in search of Crispin, the paper still clutched in her hand. When informed by the footman that the butler was in his rooms, Maddie descended the servants’ stairs.
Startled, Crispin put down his knife and fork, his luncheon on the table before him, and leaped to his feet, looking concerned. “My lady?”
“Forgive me for interrupting your meal, Crispin.” Maddie waved the paper as if it scalded her hands. “Do you know who sent this to me this morning?”
“I’m afraid I don’t, my lady. A footman took delivery of it. A delivery boy, apparently.”
Maddie nodded. “Thank you. Please continue with your meal.”
She hurried back upstairs. Aunt Libby and Catherine would be here in a few hours. She could hardly mention this to her aunt, but if she had time to speak to Catherine alone, she would be glad of her opinion. Failing that, Diane arrived tomorrow. Maddie desperately needed advice, but she suspected Hart would prefer her to rise above such gossip and toss it into the fireplace. She held it in her fingers by its edge, approaching the small fire smoldering in the grate. She should destroy it. But someone had wished to hurt her. She found that difficult to take lightly and would attempt to discover who sent it. Maddie sank back in the chair. Many in society would discuss her and Hart after reading this scandal rag. But it only made her more determined to get the better of the one who wished her harm. Mrs. Spencer came to mind. But it was unfair to jump to conclusions. News traveled fast, and it could be anyone.
Seated around the tea table, when Maddie gently informed Aunt Libby of her uncle’s malice, her aunt paled. She still looked unwell, and it worried Maddie. She deeply regretted upsetting her.
Her aunt played with the pearls at her neck. “I trusted him. Arthur wrote explaining you were not well, but your illness was mild and not overly concerning, I took him at his word.” Her blue eyes grew wide. “We had not received a letter from you for over a month. Should I have questioned him further? If he’d said you were very ill, I would have come straight away.”