Dangerous Lover, page 10
Tizsa was saying nothing Nicholas had not already lashed himself with.
“They seem to have been part of a smuggling gang,” Dragan said.
“Who?”
“The men pulled out of the Thames. They moved goods from the river into various parts of the city. They are the first connection I have found between smugglers and the kidnappers of the wealthy children.”
“Glad we could help,” Nicholas said with a curl of the lip.
“And Miss Battle? Do you still want me to investigate her?”
Nicholas hesitated. There was a reason Alexandra Battle disturbed him. He just wasn’t sure what it was. “My instincts tell me she had nothing to do with Evelina’s kidnapping. And yet, she is all that has changed in my household in two months. This happened only days after she took up her post. And she is hiding something.”
Tizsa raised one brow. “We are all hiding something.”
Nicholas said nothing. Tizsa had already revealed—or at least hinted—that he was well aware of at least one of his secrets.
“You just told me your instincts are good,” Tizsa reminded himself. “So are my wife’s, and she and Miss Battle have been friends for almost five years. Have you come across much smuggling since you took this house?”
Nicholas stared at him, then released a breath that was almost laughter. “I imagine you obtain a lot of answers by such sudden questions. I pay my dues, Mr. Tizsa, on everything I import. Nor do I buy smuggled goods. You may leave Miss Battle for now. My request was a moment of panic rather than of thought or even genuine suspicion.”
Tizsa inclined his head and rose.
“Tizsa? Who has employed you to investigate the missing children?”
“That,” Tizsa said mildly, “is confidential. With your permission, I shall extract my wife and leave you.”
“As you wish.” Nicholas sat back and watched him depart. He knew Tizsa would not give up on the missing children or on the connection to the dead smugglers. And it was more than possible Miss Battle had already told them about the goods she had seen in the now empty garden cellar.
Chapter Ten
Although Sir Nicholas did not join them for dinner that evening, he sent a note asking that Miss Battle and Evelina accompany him tomorrow on a morning call. They would travel by carriage.
Fortunately, with this to look forward to, Evelina settled to sleep with a lot less difficulty than the day before. And in the morning, after a quick lesson in arithmetic and a game in the garden, Anna helped dress her in her best frock, ready for the outing.
Alexandra wore her usual work dress and bonnet, which were neat but dull and unflattering, as was only right.
“Who are we going to visit, Papa?” Evelina asked eagerly when they were all in the carriage together, Sir Nicholas with his back to the horses.
“Your uncle Ralph,” Sir Nicholas said. “I think it’s time we all met.”
“You have not seen your brother since you returned to England?” Alexandra asked.
“We did not part on the best of terms,” Sir Nicholas said. “And since I came home, we have been avoiding each other. But Evelina should know her cousins.”
“It is a family gathering,” Alexandra said. “Should I wait in the hall or in the carriage?”
“Oh, you should definitely come in. I don’t know that they’ll see any of us.”
She blinked. “You are turning up unannounced? Do you not think that might be hurtful?” She slewed her gaze to the distracted Evelina to make her point.
His smile was not pleasant. “Since they are living in my house, I shall expect at least some surface courtesy.”
The carriage stopped before a large house in Brook Street. Alexandra could not help comparing the gracious surroundings and the elegant building with the smelly, riverside location of the chaotic New Hungerford house, with its many musty, unfurnished rooms.
“How many children does your brother have?” she asked when Sir Nicholas had knocked peremptorily on the door.
“I really have no idea.”
The door was opened by a forbidding footman. “Yes, sir?”
“Mr. or Mrs. Swan, if you please,” Sir Nicholas said, extending a calling card between two fingers.
The footman had taken it before he noticed the child dangling from Sir Nicholas’s other hand and the dowdy governess behind. “I shall inquire if either is at home. Please step inside one moment.”
At least he didn’t close the door in their faces. Sir Nicholas seemed more amused than offended as he led the way inside. Evelina gazed around her with curiosity but little awe.
“This way.” The footman led them to a small, formal reception room on the left-hand side of the entrance hall and departed with the card still held in his gloved hand.
A more superior voice could be heard from the hall, asking whom he had put in “the blue room.” An instant later, it said, “What? Did you even read this?”
Hasty footsteps heralded an obvious butler of middle years, who stopped dead in the doorway, staring at Sir Nicholas.
“Well met, Stevens,” Sir Nicholas said, casually offering his hand. “Glad to see you’re not dead yet.”
The butler’s face dissolved into smiles. “Sir Nicholas! It is you! Welcome home, sir, welcome home!” He took Sir Nicholas’s hand, at the same time bowing with such fervor that Alexandra thought he might actually kiss Sir Nicholas’s fingers.
Sir Nicholas, perhaps fearing the same, withdrew his hand to slap the dignified butler on the shoulder. “How are you, Stevens? I’ll swear you haven’t aged a day in eighteen years.”
“Tell that to my rheumatism, sir.”
“You seem pretty spry for a man with rheumatism,” Sir Nicholas said. “I look forward to hearing all about your eighteen years, but first, is my brother at home?”
“Of course, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Swan are both in the drawing room with morning callers. Would you care to join them, or would you rather wait for a more private moment?”
“No, no, show us straight in. But you had better announce me to make sure they know who I am.”
The butler’s smile was slightly pained.
Despite her curiosity, Alexandra had every intention of remaining where she was, but with a hint of mockery, he flung over his shoulder, “Come along, Miss Battle. You are in charge of Evelina.”
So, she took Evelina’s hand and followed Sir Nicholas and the butler across the hall to the stairs. As they climbed, she was sure she heard the rustling of servants emerging from the kitchen to catch a glimpse of their true master. A maid lurked in the passage upstairs and was swiftly sent about her business by Stevens.
He then opened a set of double doors and walked sedately into a large, gracious room. “Sir Nicholas Swan, ma’am,” he announced with a hint of triumph.
Instantly, the talk in the room cut off into shocked silence. Every head in the room snapped around to face Sir Nicholas. Alexandra, gazing at his back, could not see his expression, but she saw that of the lady behind the teapot, presumably their hostess, which betrayed both bewilderment and dismay. The tall man by the mantelpiece looked angry, and yet, somehow, hunted—presumably Mr. Ralph Swan. Their guests displayed only avid curiosity.
Sir Nicholas bowed to the company and strolled into the room. “Well, Ralph,” he addressed the man by the mantelpiece. “You’ve grown.”
Ralph’s mouth closed with a snap as he wiped all expression from his suddenly pale face. “Nicholas.” As though forcing himself, he walked forward, extending his hand. “I heard you were back, though I’d hoped to see you before this.”
Nicholas took the outstretched hand. Alexandra could see him in profile now, and he smiled, the faint, sardonic smile he seemed to give to strangers. “Did you?” He dropped his brother’s hand after the briefest shake and turned to face his hostess. “Won’t you introduce me to your wife?”
“Of course,” Ralph said with forced pleasantness, casting a quick, almost agonized glance around his rapt guests. Clearly, he would rather have had this encounter in private. Alexandra suspected Sir Nicholas knew that and had maliciously timed the visit accordingly. “Gertrude, my older brother, Sir Nicholas. Nicholas, my wife, Gertrude.”
This time, Nicholas’s smile was much more pleasant. Holding his sister-in-law’s gaze, he took her hand and bowed over it. “What good fortune my brother has found. Delighted to meet you.”
Evelina tugged at Alexandra’s hand. “There are no children here,” she pointed out in a stage whisper.
Children did not, as a rule, attend drawing rooms when adult callers were present. The many flickering glances at Evelina would have reminded Sir Nicholas of this, had he needed any reminding. But this, too, was part of his little theatre to disconcert his brother. What, Alexandra wondered, was between them to have inspired this? If Nicholas had left at the age of eighteen, then Ralph, surely, couldn’t have been more than about sixteen.
“Ah, Evelina,” Sir Nicholas said, smiling at her. “Come and be presented to your aunt and uncle.”
Since there were several people between Evelina and her father, the child clung to Alexandra’s hand as she obeyed, dragging her along.
Mr. and Mrs. Swan had small, rigid smiles affixed to their faces.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter, Evelina. And her governess, Miss Battle.”
“She is a pretty child,” Mrs. Swan said weakly.
“She takes that from her mother,” Sir Nicholas said blandly, and Mrs. Swan colored, presumably at the impropriety. “Perhaps, Miss Battle could take Evelina to your nursery for a few minutes to make the acquaintance of her cousins?”
“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Ralph Swan uttered in sudden alarm.
Sir Nicholas smiled, such an unpleasant, dangerous smile that Alexandra was afraid he would actually hit his brother. “You are kind. I’m so glad you will not object to Evelina and Miss Battle playing tag among your guests.”
“Nicholas, for God’s sake!” Ralph whispered, presumably grasping that it was well within his brother’s rights to go wherever he wished in his own house, and do whatever he wished, too. That if Ralph did not like it, it was Ralph and his family who would have to go.
But Alexandra was outraged to have Evelina used as such a tool. She grasped her hand tighter. “Evelina and I shall take a walk and return to the carriage in—”
“No need,” Mrs. Swan interrupted. “The footman at the door will escort you to the nursery.”
To Alexandra’s surprise, Sir Nicholas accompanied them to the door.
“Be good, squib,” he adjured his daughter as he held it open, and to Alexandra, he murmured, “We shall talk later.”
“Yes,” she said grimly, “we will.”
“Show my daughter and her governess to the nursery,” Sir Nicholas instructed the footman in the passage and, without glancing at them again, shut the door.
*
The other guests only left when they could not, with any civility, linger any longer to observe the Swans’ barbed reunion. By dinner time, gossip would be rife all over London and speculation building to a crescendo.
But at the moment, Nicholas sat in the silent drawing room regarding his brother and sister-in-law while he waited to hear what they would say.
Inevitably, Ralph broke the silence first.
“You should have written!” he burst out.
Nicholas raised one eyebrow. “I wrote several times, as I recall. I gave up after about seven years.”
Ralph flushed, which told him all he needed to know; that Ralph had indeed received all those letters and never troubled to reply.
“I meant about this visit,” he muttered.
Nicholas laughed. “Really?”
“You left this country voluntarily,” Ralph snapped. “Mired in so much scandal my mother took to her bed for a month! My father never recovered from it. And this child you now inflict on my children—”
“Children do not care for the niceties of marriage lines,” Nicholas interrupted. “What you mean is, I inflicted her on you.”
“And meant to embarrass me before my guests! Are you trying to drive me from my home, now?”
“Drive you from my home,” Nicholas corrected gently.
“You will evict us?” Gertrude said, speaking directly to him for the first time.
“Evict you? My dear sister, it was not I but our perverse father who evicted you when he left everything to me. He could have left all the unentailed property, including this house, to Ralph. God knows, he threatened to often enough, even before I left. But he didn’t.”
“You showed no inclination to come home,” Ralph muttered.
“How do you know?” Nicholas retorted. “Did you ask?”
“I asked Figgis.”
The solicitor,” Nicholas mocked. “He is certainly a great source of information. For example, from him, I know you have already spent more of my money than you could ever repay, even working for your living. What did you think, Ralph? That though I was too awful a person to communicate with, I would be generous enough to neither evict you nor prosecute you?”
Gertrude’s teacup rattled in its saucer. She laid it down with trembling hands. Nicholas was more interested in his brother’s reaction. Ralph had whitened, his hand flying to his wife’s shoulder as though to comfort or perhaps plead forgiveness.
“Think of the family name,” Ralph managed. “There would be scandal.”
Nicholas laughed with genuine amusement. “Can you think of no better argument for me?”
“For God’s sake, Nicholas, I have a wife! Children! At least leave this until—”
“For a few days,” Gertrude interrupted. “Be assured we will take nothing of yours.”
Nicholas glanced at her ironically but said only, “How many children do you have?”
“Three,” Ralph replied. “Two sons and a daughter.”
“Felicitations. I would be charmed to meet them when Evelina comes back.”
“Not today,” Gertrude said quickly.
A new suspicion dawned. Perhaps there was more than prejudice or even guilt behind their behavior, which was decidedly odd, even for this awkward situation. “Evelina is rather starved of the company of other children,” he said mildly. “Miss Battle is taking steps to change that, but whatever differences exist between you and I, I am eager for Evelina to be friends with her cousins. The child is innocent, you know, of my sins.”
“You cannot foist her on society,” Ralph said. “Even you must see that.”
“I would not be the first,” Nicholas said cynically. “I have acknowledged her, and she shares our name.”
Ralph’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that any…generosity on your part is dependent on us acknowledging your illegitimate daughter?”
“Actually, no,” Nicholas said, rising to his feet. “I have not yet decided what to do. I won’t let your wife and children starve, Ralph, but beyond that…” He shrugged. “Perhaps we would both benefit from a day or so to think of possible solutions. Be so good, if you please, to summon Evelina, and we shall leave you to enjoy the day.”
While they waited, Nicholas saw no reason to break the silence with small talk, although he civilly answered remarks flung out to him by Gertrude. Neither of them asked where he was living or about the last eighteen years of his life.
On impulse, he said suddenly, “Did you know Evelina was kidnapped? Only the day before yesterday.”
“Dear God,” Gertrude whispered.
Ralph’s eyes were round, staring at him. “How did you get her back so quickly?”
“I hired a man,” Nicholas replied. “Or more accurately, Miss Battle hired a man, who found her within hours. Ah, here they are.” He bowed to Gertrude. “Good day, ma’am. Ralph, I shall—er… write. Goodbye.”
Evelina, he was glad to see, bounced along happily at Miss Battle’s side. The governess, however, barely looked at him as they walked downstairs into the street, even when he handed her into the carriage. He was, he saw, in her black books and was sorry. It was more than time to talk if he wished her good opinion, and for some reason, he did. But the day was not about her.
“Tell me, Miss Battle,” he said in the carriage, when Evelina paused for breath, “how many children were in the nursery?”
“Two,” she said, and this time, reluctantly met his gaze. “And yet there were three made-up beds.”
Chapter Eleven
Since Sir Nicholas paused only to leave Evelina and Alexandra at the house before setting off again, there was no opportunity to speak to him until evening.
Evelina, who had played a little shyly with her cousin Eleanor, and been kind and gentle with the baby, remained a little distracted during the afternoon’s lessons. However, she did what was required of her in the end, without fuss or tantrum. She was rewarded after tea with a walk along the river in company with both Alexandra and Anna. James plodded watchfully behind, except when Evelina bounced back to talk to him.
Alexandra took advantage of one such occasion to talk to Anna. Since Evelina’s return, things had been much easier between them, and she no longer encountered that look of suspicion and resentment in the maid’s eyes. But they were hardly friends.
“I wanted to ask you about Evelina’s life in Italy,” Alexandra said. “To help me understand her better. Have you been with her from her birth?”
“No, I came to her two years ago.”
That surprised her. Somehow, she had regarded Anna as an old family retainer. But she pressed on. “I’m concerned because of some of the odd things she says sometimes—for instance, that Sir Nicholas killed someone. Can this be true, or is it some bizarre lie she has made up?”
In quick alarm, Anna cast a glance over her shoulder where the child still chattered away with James.
“No lie,” Anna muttered. “She should not know such things—it is her mother’s fault. But we do not talk about it.” She glared at Alexandra, more pleading than threatening. Her response inspired more questions, but since Evelina skipped ahead to them once more, Alexandra was forced to leave it there. She nodded to the nurserymaid to reassure her she would not speak to their charge on the issue, but inside, she seethed with curiosity. Had Anna meant the killing had been the mother’s fault? Or the fact that Evelina knew about it?
