Dangerous Lover, page 17
“Certainly, someone was giving the orders,” Harris said, without answering the question. “Gorey and Burke didn’t plan these abductions. They’re not capable of it. Neither are the women. Someone was pulling their strings, keeping an eye on them, too. Henry Swan recalls a third man being in that room on two different occasions. One was during the night when he probably came to pick up someone else’s ransom. The other was in daylight, but the women kept the boys at the back, near their beds, and they never saw the man’s face, only his back.”
“Did he wear a cloak?” Alexandra asked eagerly.
“They didn’t say,” Harris replied. “However, they all claimed that he didn’t speak like the others.”
Alexandra frowned. “You mean, he had a different accent? From where? Was he foreign?”
“No, he was a gentleman.” Harris smiled faintly at Sir Nicholas. “Like you.”
Alexandra’s stomach seemed to plunge. Although the inspector was not quite accusing, neither was he quite joking.
Nicholas’s brows flew up in surprise. “In nothing but accent, I assure you. I have never knowingly hurt a child in my life. At least, not since I stopped being one.”
Harris held his haughty gaze. “Have we not just established the wonder of these children not being hurt?”
Sir Nicholas stared, then flung himself back in his chair. “Are you actually accusing me, Inspector?”
“That is nonsense!” Alexandra burst out. “It was he who rescued them!”
“Perhaps because the game was up,” Harris said softly. “And he’d done what he’d really intended all along—made his brother suffer.”
Alexandra could not quite believe her ears. She could find no words nor breath with which to utter them.
Nicholas’s lips curled. “Then what were all the other children? Practice?”
“Perhaps,” Harris replied with a shrug. “I never heard that you were averse to making money.”
“But did you ever hear I did so by breaking the law of whatever land I was in?”
“No,” Harris admitted. “Which is one reason I am sitting here talking to you rather than arresting you.”
“The other reason being that you have no evidence against me,” Nicholas said dryly.
“Not yet,” Harris agreed.
“I have never heard such nonsense in my life!” Alexandra burst out. “If you had seen him strike that man, if you had seen that awful woman clinging to his back, trying to strangle him, you wouldn’t dream of uttering such arrant rubbish!”
“A spirited defense,” Harris allowed. “Tell me about this incident when a gathering of men threatened you and Mr. Ingram.”
Alexandra blinked at the sudden change of subject. “It was on that waste ground close to where we found the children. Men loomed out of the darkness, surrounding us. It was quite frightening, and Mr. Ingram had to use his stick to ward them off. But they would easily have overcome us if Sir Nicholas had not come.”
“And did what?” Harris asked curiously. “Set about all of them at once with a club? Threatened them with a pistol?”
“No. He just commanded them to leave us alone, and they were so surprised, and not quite sure, I suppose, what power he held, that they backed off, and we escaped.”
“Yes, that is more or less what Mr. Ingram said.” Harris fixed her with his very sharp eyes. “Did this not seem odd to you?”
“I was too grateful to be curious. Though it did strike me it might have been his accent—” She broke off, her eyes widening.
Harris smiled faintly. “His accent. And his appearance. Is it not likely the men knew and feared him because he was a commanding presence in their world? A man who made criminal money for all who served him?”
Alexandra blinked several times. “Well, yes,” she admitted. “That would be a possibility, were it not for the fact that I saw Sir Nicholas and the cloaked man in different places at exactly the same time. Sir Nicholas could not possibly be the cloaked man.”
“But your cloaked man could be anyone. There is no proof he went anywhere near the children. You had no reason to suspect him, except that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And one of the abductors nodded to him,” Alexandra pointed out.
Harris shrugged. “You think he did. Mr. Ingram saw none of this. It was you who led the pursuit of the man, and he followed because he was charged by Sir Nicholas with your protection.”
“What exactly are you saying now?” Sir Nicholas snapped.
“That it is also possible that Miss Battle is your ally. That she made up the cloaked man to avert suspicion from you.”
A frightening surge of anger flamed in Sir Nicholas’s eyes, and thinned his lips. And yet, he spoke with perfect calm. “Let me be sure I understand this. You are accusing me of kidnapping a bunch of children, including my own nephew, for ransom, just to be able to wreak some bizarre vengeance on my brother? And you are further accusing Miss Battle, who has been with us for barely a week, of being my accomplice?”
Harris should have shriveled beneath that contempt. He didn’t, though, neither did he raise his voice. “No, sir. Not yet. I am merely explaining why I would like your permission to search your house. So that I can eliminate you from my list of suspects and move on.”
Sir Nicholas’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “My permission,” he repeated. “Because you do not have the evidence to warrant such a search.”
“I do not. But an innocent man would be happy to be free of suspicion.”
“An innocent man has no need to allow the ransacking of his home, the frightening of his daughter, or the upsetting of his servants. I do not grant permission.”
That surprised Alexandra. She had expected him to maintain his contempt while allowing Inspector Harris to do his worst.
“What exactly do you hope to find?” she asked the inspector. “More children? Carpetbags full of money?”
“Something like that,” Harris said steadily, “though I assure you, I hope for no such thing. I merely wish to search for them.”
“Well, you can’t,” Sir Nicholas said, standing to indicate the interview was at an end. “Good morning, Inspector.”
Harris rose, too, though more slowly. “I would like you to think about it, sir. It is the quickest way to remove suspicion.”
“Your suspicions do not interest me.” Sir Nicholas uttered. “My money is on Mr. Tizsa to discover the true culprit.”
Although he had not rung, James appeared at the door.
Sir Nicholas remained behind his desk. “James will show you out, Inspector. Miss Battle, thank you for your time. Please, do not let us keep you longer from your duties.”
He was not rude, but from a friend, such an abrupt dismissal cut her to the heart. She left wordlessly, without looking back at either Sir Nicholas or the inspector, who was descending the stairs without noticeable hurry, James close on his heels.
Chapter Seventeen
Somehow, Alexandra kept her focus on Evelina and teaching for the rest of the day, even when they played in the garden and went for a walk.
Only in her free time before dinner did she sit down and write a panicked note to Griz, informing her of Inspector Harris’s visit and his ridiculous suspicion of Sir Nicholas and herself. But as she wrote down his arguments, she began to see their logic, and how what they had done and what had happened to them appeared to fit the inspector’s theory.
She stopped writing and sat back, clutching her hair. She knew she was innocent. And she believed in Sir Nicholas’s innocence, too, even if she did not know it. But that crowd of men had obeyed him. She had put it down to his force of presence, but she could see the unlikelihood. And the treatment of the kidnapped children was equally improbable. Surely, no normal villain would have taken quite such care of them. And Sir Nicholas had insisted on accompanying Dragan that night. To Harris, he had done it to be seen as the rescuer, not the chief perpetrator, to avert suspicion, instead of which it seemed to have heaped accusations on his head.
She did not believe those suspicions. Of course, she did not. And yet, he had not let Harris search the house. The police would hardly have “ransacked” a gentleman’s property. And Alexandra could easily have taken Evelina out the way for a couple of hours, so none of his reasons for refusing were truly valid. It was his right, of course, at this stage, at least. But it was odd.
She got up, pacing restlessly to the window. She could see over the garden wall to the mews lane behind. A man loitered, leaning against the fence opposite. And yet he did not look like a groom or a coachman nor like one of the local tradesmen. He was, she suspected, a policeman. There was probably another at the front, watching to see if Sir Nicholas tried to smuggle anything—or anyone—out of the house.
They believe it. They truly believe it.
She went back to her desk and snatched up the letter to Griz, tearing it into tiny pieces, which she swept into a drawer. Her stomach churning, she changed for dinner and re-brushed and pinned her tangled hair. Then, she walked to the schoolroom to find Evelina had already gone downstairs. Did Sir Nicholas mean to join them for dinner?
The library door was open when she reached the landing. And she could hear Evelina’s voice piping up, “…to dine with us, Papa?”
“Not tonight, minx,” he said, sounding genuinely sorry. “I’m going to this dreadful party.”
“Why would you, if it’s going to be dreadful?” Evelina asked.
“Good question,” he said. “To show my face is the only answer I have. To any of it. I’ll look in on you when I come home, though.”
“Wake me up!” she begged.
He laughed. “No, I won’t do that, but I’ll leave something by your bedside. Off you go, squib. I can hear your tummy rumbling from here.”
Alexandra hurried toward the dining room, where Evelina joined her a moment or two later.
After dinner, they again paid a visit to Lady Nora, who looked a little brighter than the last time they had seen her.
“Papa has gone out,” Evelina told her. “To some dreadful party. Mrs. Jenner invited him. She came here the other day and stopped Miss Battle and me playing the piano.”
“Caroline Jenner?” Lady Nora said, apparently amused. “She is wasting her time. She will never hold him.”
“Hold him where?” Evelina asked.
Lady Nora released a breath of laughter. “It’s just a saying. Don’t regard it or me. Tell me about your day.”
Ten minutes later, Anna came looking for Evelina, who was quite ready to go to her own rooms for some quiet play and stories before bed.
“Perhaps you could stay another few minutes?” Lady Nora said unexpectedly when Alexandra stood to leave, too.
“Of course, if you are not too tired. Can I bring you anything?”
“Just your company. I thrive on society and have known so little recently, for obvious reasons.”
“I’m glad to see you looking a little better today.”
The pain-filled eyes regarded her with unexpected perception. “While you look as if you have the cares of the world on your shoulders. She is a challenging child, I believe, but she seems much more contented since you came.”
“I am glad.”
“So does he.”
“Who?” Alexandra asked, bewildered.
“Nicholas, of course.”
Warm blood seeped into Alexandra’s face. She hoped the gloom hid it from Lady Nora. “I think he is pleased to have his worry over Evelina eased a little.”
Lady Nora nodded. “Of course, there is that. You are good with the child. You are good with him, too.”
“Well, despite a few rocky moments, he has not yet dismissed me,” Alexandra said lightly.
“He likes you because you stand up to him. But he looks at you for quite other reasons.”
Alexandra scrambled for some other topic of conversation. She did want to think of him looking at her in any way at all. And yet she did, all the time.
“I embarrass you,” Lady Nora observed.
“I am the governess,” Alexandra said, low. “It is not appropriate to speculate on such matters, even in fun.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking. I have no time for jokes, Miss Battle. I am dying, and I would die more peacefully if I knew you were there to care for him.”
“I will care for Evelina, who will care for him. I am the governess.”
“So you said.” Again, she sounded faintly amused. “You should know—perhaps you already do—that Nicholas does not care for differences in rank, birth, or social status. If he likes you, he likes you.” She must have caught some desperate expression in Alexandra’s face, for she smiled and said, “I am not hurt. Why should you suppose I could be hurt by his affection for you?”
She was wrong, of course she was, but if she wished to speak plainly, Alexandra rarely backed off.
“Because I know you and he ran away together when you were very young, and that he deserted you in Paris,” she said flatly. “Not his finest hour.”
“Then you know nothing. He was very young. I was—as I still am—eight years older. And he didn’t desert me. I used him as the means of escaping my vile husband, and then I deserted him in Paris. For a very talented artist, as it happens, who was more suited to me in age and character.”
Alexandra blinked to cover her surprise.
“You will think me heartless now. But you already know the narrowness of the paths we women are permitted to walk. I was ruined and could never go home. I never wanted to, but in my defense, I thought Nicholas would. He certainly could have, but he never did. He went off and made his fortune, just as he said he would, only he did it without me, without anyone.”
Alexandra took it in, readjusting what she knew of Sir Nicholas to Lady Nora’s story. “What happened to your artist?” she asked at last.
“He died. And I moved on, through the demimonde. Occasionally, I met Nicholas again. I liked to keep up with his life and his successes.”
“Did you regret leaving him?”
Lady Nora shook her head emphatically. “No. It was the making of both of us. But he loved me once, and so he looks after me now when the world has turned its back on me. That is your Nicholas.”
“He is not mine,” she whispered in sudden distress.
“Then make him so. He needs you. And bless you, child, I know you will never admit it, but you love him. I hear it in your voice. Don’t tell me again that you are the governess.”
Alexandra gave a watery laugh and dashed her hand across her eyes. “I somehow imagined he left you for Evelina’s mother.”
“Lord, no, there were many years between those relationships. And Evelina’s mother was hardly the best decision he ever made, either. The woman was beautiful and sang like an angel, but she was volatile, unpredictable, selfish enough to make me look like a nun. I would not even be sure the child is his, though she always maintained it, and he acknowledges her. He loves her as his own.”
Lady Nora lapsed into silence. Her eyes began to close.
“Why do you tell me all this?” Alexandra asked, and the sick woman’s eyes flew open again.
“Because he won’t. Because you should know.” She smiled, moving her thin, papery hand. Alexandra put hers into it, and Lady Nora’s fingers grasped and released her.
“She’ll sleep now,” Spencer said, bustling over.
Alexandra left with her mind buzzing. She did not put a great deal of faith in the dying woman’s reading of Sir Nicholas’s affections for her. But what she had said of his past was more than interesting. This was a man who took care of a child who might not be his, of an old lover who had used him and left him. This was a man with an over-developed sense of responsibility. Not, surely, a man who took other people’s children away and only gave them back for money.
*
It took a long time for Alexandra to fall asleep that night. Her mind flitted from problem to problem concerning the cloaked man and the police suspicion of Sir Nicholas. A well-spoken man would certainly stand out in the slums of St. Giles, but that didn’t make him a gentleman. It certainly didn’t make him Nicholas Swan, who, in his own practical, understated fashion, seemed to take care of everyone. As far as she knew, he had made no effort to take control of his inherited property from his brother. And he did not appear to need more money. He just would not endanger other people’s children for money or any other reward.
Why could the police not see that?
Did Griz and Dragan? Were they suspicious? Had they put the notion into Inspector Harris’s head? Surely they could not be so…so blind, foolish, wrong-headed, so…
Besotted, she finished bitterly. And clearly, they were not.
Her thoughts strayed to the soiree Sir Nicholas was attending. She expected Mrs. Jenner was all over him, taking possessive hold of his arm, holding discreet and sophisticated conversation, inveigling him into some private corner to force his hand, perhaps, into marriage. She couldn’t imagine Sir Nicholas being caught in such a way…unless he wanted to be.
Restlessly, she turned over, punching the pillow to make it more comfortable. Sir Nicholas would marry one day. She would have to get used to that idea, to be able to accept it without this foolish jealousy eating into her. Caroline Jenner did not deserve him. She did not love him. She wanted to be Lady Swan, married to one of the wealthiest men in the country. And she did not like Evelina. She would work to have her sent away to school, to keep her away while she had children of her own to distract Sir Nicholas.
Nicholas would not be distracted. He would never send Evelina away.
Would the Jenner woman want him if she knew what Inspector Harris had accused him of? Would she defend him?
She would never get the chance. He does not look at her. He could not… And it makes no difference to me. Whatever Lady Nora says, I am only the governess.
With the thoughts swirling and circling like vultures, she, at last, fell into exhausted sleep.
She woke again to darkness and that strange, rhythmic clanking she had heard before. Annoyed, for it seemed she would never get any sleep, she lit her bedside lamp and flounced out of bed. A glance at her watch told her it was after three in the morning. Everyone, even Sir Nicholas, would surely be tucked up in bed. Did no one but her ever hear this noise? Or had they learned to ignore it?
