Unmasking Sin, page 5
“By which I doubt you mean he handed them over to the law.”
“I suspect they are more frightened of Renwick than the law.”
“He must be terrifying,” Rebecca said grimly, watching as the waitress set a mug of ale before Mr. Dunne.
“On the contrary, he is most amiable if you don’t attempt to destroy his business. Miss Kitty here is, I believe, his niece.”
The girl, a pretty, friendly creature, cast her a quick smile. “Anything else for you and the young master, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.”
Kitty bustled off to the next table.
“Renwick believes they were opportunists seeking easy victims,” he said. “They were unlikely to have picked you out specially.”
“Of course, they did not,” she scoffed, although this had indeed been one of her fears. She met Mr. Dunne’s cool, steady gaze. She could not trust her instinct to confide in him. Instinct had led her to marry Theo, and she was still paying for that mistake.
But instinct had also led her to protest against her first marriage, and that had proved to be sound. Bowing to her parents’ wishes had been the mistake there.
Ludovic Dunne had protected her last night. He had been kind to her at the luncheon, even to the possible detriment of his own career. And he kept appearing as if pushed into her path by fate.
She drew in her breath to blurt it all out.
“Mama, let’s play again,” Tom said eagerly, wriggling out of his chair. “Mr. Dunne can play, too.”
Mr. Dunne smiled, took a long draught of his ale, and stood. “Shall we?”
He held Rebecca’s chair for her to rise while Tom toddled off to drag Annie and James into the game. His desire, apparently, was to roll down the slope in the next garden along where, earlier, some boys had been playing football. Now, several children were rolling, and Tom was desperate to try.
Annie, for once, dug her heels in and refused to join in. But Mr. Dunne gamely took his sticky hand and climbed up the slope. He even lay down in the grass, positioning himself just below Tom, and began to roll.
Tom rolled with shouts of laughter, landing on top of Mr. Dunne, who didn’t seem to mind in the slightest being dragged uphill to do it again.
After that, Rebecca decided he had suffered enough and laughingly told Tom to do it himself. James walked up with him while Annie waited at the foot of the hill, and Rebecca tried to brush off Mr. Dunne’s shoulders, which were broad and strong.
“Oh, dear! I expect the mud will brush off—it’s quite dry—but your coat may forever be grass-stained.”
“Then it will be a reminder of a pleasant relapse into the joys of childhood. He is a great little fellow.”
“I think so,” Rebecca said proudly. Something that felt very like tears caught in her throat, and she drew a deep, shuddering breath. She could not look at him, but the words came tumbling out. “Someone broke into my house last night, into Tom’s bedchamber. My husband’s family want to take him from me. They will go to law to claim me unfit, and the world will agree because everyone thinks I killed my husband. Will you help me?”
The silence stretched between them like a thread growing ever more taut and tense. She forced herself to look at him.
He was gazing at her, not with scorn, but not with outrage on her behalf either. Instead, she read consternation in his light eyes, and for the first time since she had known him, he looked…helpless.
“I am sorry,” he said at last. “I cannot help you.”
Chapter Five
Ludovic had never felt such a complete scoundrel in his entire life. It went against every instinct, every decency to turn down a lady asking for his help. Help he could not give without a major conflict of interest.
The faintest frown twitched across her brow. He had surprised her. But it was the disappointment he found nearly unendurable.
“Then don’t,” she said brightly. “Forget I asked. Please believe I would never have approached you had not your brother made a point of telling me you solved problems. Clearly, I misunderstood him.”
She did not even dismiss him or stalk away, merely changed the subject to the weather and the advisability of getting home before the rain, which seemed to be threatening.
“One more tumble down the hill,” she called to Tom, “and then we must go home!”
This was her strength, he realized. She never admitted she was down, that her burden was too great, even when she stood alone in the world, shunned and threatened. If there was a greater desperation in her gaiety as she took Tom’s hand and began to walk toward the rose garden and the main path once more, it seemed no one but he could see it.
He had disappointed and surprised her. Because she was not used to men turning down her requests? Her husband’s uncles were clearly immune to her charms. Ludovic was not.
He said, “I can recommend an excellent and trustworthy solicitor. I will send you his direction.”
“Thank you. There is no need.”
She had trusted Adam’s recommendation—damn you, Adam. She would not trust Ludovic’s, not now. And he was tied, bound to keep the confidences of his clients. But he could at least warn her.
“Someone left your area door unlocked last night,” he said urgently. “Your servants may not all be as loyal as you imagine.”
That certainly got her attention, for her head snapped round to stare at him. “Do you imagine I don’t know that?”
He inclined his head, relieved that at least she was aware.
“What interests me,” she added glassily, “is how you know?”
The Rawlston gentlemen had denied any involvement in the crime, so he felt quite justified in telling her. “I happened to see your burglar running out of your house and followed him. He did seem genuinely surprised to find the door unlocked, but he certainly took advantage of it.”
“You just happened to be passing my house?” she said slowly.
Rain was indeed threatening. One drop landed on her upturned cheek, and he wanted to brush it off—an excuse to touch her. Fortunately, he restrained himself, for the look in her eyes was anything but welcoming.
He was investigating her involvement in a possible crime. Two possible crimes, if he included the death of her first husband. But as they walked smartly down the path to the gates, he was conscious mainly that he had let her down, refused to help her, and inspired her suspicion.
He was also aware that for him, the nature of his investigation had changed. He was not simply investigating Rebecca Cornish. He was now investigating the supposed crimes themselves and all the crimes that now surrounded them. And from those investigations, his employers were not immune.
She did not offer him a seat in her carriage. Again, he did not expect her to. Tom surprised him by hugging his leg before the nurse seized him and plonked him in the carriage. And this time, it was the footman, not Ludovic, who handed her into the carriage.
Her bright farewell rang in his ears, but she did not once glance at him out of the window as the horses pulled her carriage away.
There was a knot of shame, even pain in his stomach, but that was drowned in sheer determination. Because he didn’t believe she had murdered anyone.
*
Rebecca wanted to cry. She could not even remember the last time she had asked anyone for help, and now, when she finally had, she was humiliated and appalled by his refusal. He had not even thought about it, had not even been tempted. And for some reason, that hurt. Because, against her better judgment, she had liked him. He had protected her, made her laugh, played with Tom to the extent of getting his coat and pantaloons covered with grass and dirt until, despite their short acquaintance, she had trusted him. And hadn’t even realized how much she had begun to assume, to rely on his future help…until he had refused it.
Only as the carriage rumbled its way back across the canal and down Edgware Road toward home did the explanation come to her. Why was he always there? Introducing himself at the ball, watching her, being near her house in the middle of the night, escorting her at the dreadful luncheon, winning her trust by playing with Tom… And then refusing his aid.
Because he is already working for the uncles.
It felt as if the carriage roof, the whole sky, had fallen in on her. He wasn’t just her humiliation, her latest mistake in a long line. He was her enemy.
*
Happy and exhausted by his outing to Maida, Tom was half-asleep as Rebecca and Annie got him ready for bed.
Rebecca kept the smile on her face until his eyes closed and then she beckoned to Annie as she walked to the door.
“There will be no unlocked doors tonight, no intruders,” she promised once they reached the passage.
“I know that, my lady,” Annie said grimly. “But I’ll be sleeping with the poker at my bedside tonight, just in case. No one will get near the little master.”
Rebecca had to swallow a lump in her throat. Whoever her traitor was, it was not Annie. “Thank you. I rely on you a great deal and am more grateful than I can say. Annie, has anyone asked you about me recently? Or about our household? I don’t mean your family or friends, but perhaps a stranger?”
Annie thought about it, then gave a diffident, slightly guilty smile. “There was someone in the square a few days ago when the little master was playing. Amiable fellow, well enough dressed. I think he’s in service in one of the other houses in the square, for I’ve seen him around since.”
“Not the gentleman we met today at Maida?”
Annie smiled. “Oh, no, my lady, nothing like him. This fellow was a groom or a coachman or some such. Strong, stocky man with a bumpy nose—like it had been broken some time. Certainly not a gentleman.”
Neither is Mr. Dunne. He’s only a nosy solicitor who does the Rawlstons’ dirty work. “What did he ask you, Annie? What did you tell him?”
“Nothing too nosy. Just if I liked being the boy’s nurse. If you were a decent mistress. He asked if you were one of those fearful, doting mothers or the opposite extreme—he was telling a funny story about someone else at the time. I told him you were a good mother, would do anything for the young sir, but that you told him off when he was wrong and didn’t spoil him.” She flushed slightly. “And I said I agreed with your instructions and carried them out. And then he changed the subject, and I went back inside the house shortly after.”
“I don’t suppose he told you his name or who he worked for?”
Annie thought about it. “No, I don’t believe he did. But he did wave to me the other day—from the square again, not from any house.”
“Do something for me, Annie. Tell me immediately if you see him again.”
“I will do, my lady.”
Rebecca nodded and went downstairs to her own solitary dinner. However tasty the meal, there was little pleasure in dining alone. Certainly not every day. More than once, she had thought of merely eating with Tom, but in some way that seemed like giving in, dropping the standards she had been brought up with and which genteel society expected. She would give the Rawlstons no fuel for their lies about her unfitness.
Even when yet another evening alone stretched before her. Did Ludovic Dunne know loneliness had driven her to the masked balls at Maida Gardens? Or did he suspect her of assignations with a lover? Or lovers. She almost wished for one, just for something to do. Just to feel close to another adult human being. But again, she would never give the Rawlstons such ammunition against her morality.
So, she picked at the delicious food before her, swallowed enough to keep her strong and healthy, and then left the maids to clear up.
“Ask Mrs. Arnott to step into the library when she has a moment,” she said to Mark, who was hovering in the hall to open doors.
Even when Theo had been alive, the library had been her semi-private domain. He had rarely disturbed her there, and she had found comfort in being surrounded by books and knowledge.
Mrs. Arnott, a pleasant, efficient woman of middle years, entered only a few moments later. “Your ladyship asked to see me?”
“Yes, I did. Come in and sit down for a moment. I wondered, now you have had time to think about it, if you have any suspicions who might have left the kitchen door unlocked last night?”
“I haven’t, my lady, but be assured I’ll be watching. As will Dawson. We’ll be taking it in turns to sleep down there, just to make sure there’s no more of it.”
“I would try and talk you out of such discomfort, but to be honest, I’m grateful for it. I only hope it won’t be for too long. Tell me, has anyone, any stranger, asked you about me recently?”
“Oh, no, my lady. Wouldn’t do them any good if they did, for I wouldn’t…” She paused, frowning slightly. “That is, there was the gentleman in the green grocer’s the other day.”
“Gentleman?” Rebecca pounced.
“Well, I thought at first that he was because he spoke well and dressed well. And then, when we got chatting, I realized he was probably a butler or a valet, for he seemed to understand the workings of a large household. He glanced at my piled-high basket and congratulated me on not having a stingy employer. I assured him you were neither penny-pinching nor wasteful. He said something disparaging about his own employer, but I merely sympathized, and he got no more out of me than that. I’d forgotten all about it, to be honest.”
Rebecca’s stomach knotted further, with anger rather than alarm. “Was he a tall gentleman with almost silver hair and a much younger face? Cold, gray eyes?”
“I’d have called them commanding rather than cold, which is what made me think he was a gentleman at first. But I suppose he’s used to managing the lower servants. But yes, he did have fair hair that looked silver, and yet he was a young man.”
Ludovic Dunne. Presumably the man in the square, who had spoken to Annie, worked for him. Though last night’s burglar did not. Probably.
“Did I do wrong to speak to him, my lady?”
Less wrong than I, she thought bitterly. “Of course not, but I would like to know if he approaches you again.”
*
Ludovic arrived back at his office to discover Andrews preparing to go home.
“Ah, do I have appointments tomorrow, Andrews?”
“Just three, sir.”
Ludovic swiped up the appointment book. “I’m going to postpone them until next week. Perhaps you would do the same for Friday’s?”
“Of course, sir. But—er…one of tomorrow’s appointments is with the Duke of Dearham.”
“Oh well, can’t be helped. Good night, Andrews.” He walked into the inner office to discover Napper asleep with his feet on the desk.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” Ludovic said politely.
“I won’t,” Napper replied, opening his eyes. Unhurriedly, he removed his feet from the desk and stretched before vacating the chair. “You want me to watch Barclay Square again tonight?”
“And during the day, until I return from Kent, at least. You’ll need help.” Dropping the appointment book on his desk, he opened the window, which looked onto a small courtyard. A boy lounged there, playing a solitary game of shove penny, only with small stones, against the wall. At the sound of the window opening, he looked up and grinned and sped for the door.
By the time he arrived in Ludovic’s office, the boy had multiplied into three. Ludovic issued his instructions while scrawling his apologies to tomorrow’s appointments.
“And if there is any sign of trouble, you send immediately to Mr. Napper,” he commanded. “One of you can follow any intruder—keeping out of sight—but no one is to approach him, and no one is to go into the house. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re to stay out of sight at all times.” Ludovic replaced his pen in the stand and fished in his pockets for coins. “Take these, organize some provisions for yourselves, and round up the others. Mr. Napper will arrange shifts with you. Off you go.”
“What you expecting to happen?” Napper asked curiously.
“Hopefully, nothing. Between you and me, I’m not sure we’re on the side of the righteous in this case, so we’re walking a bit of a tightrope.”
“And you’re off to…?”
“Find evidence one way or the other to make my final report to our clients.”
“But you don’t think she did it.”
“No,” he agreed, staring across the room. It was not Napper he saw in his mind’s eye but Rebecca Cornish, hiding her desperation, her disappointment in him. “I’m beginning to think she is the only victim.”
Chapter Six
Neither of Tom’s great-uncles called as invited at ten the following morning. In fact, Rebecca was fairly sure they would not come at three of the clock either. Their aim was not actually to see the child but to catch his mother in some indiscretion or ill-behavior that they could use, presumably to shame or bully her into handing Tom into their care. Or to collect evidence for the court case they threatened to bring against her.
Tom rose bright-eyed as ever and full of energy, demanding to go to Maida Gardens again. He was sidetracked with breakfast, a game of chases around the nursery, and the promise of going to Hyde Park instead.
Rebecca, meanwhile, donned her bonnet and sallied forth to call on Theo’s solicitor. Since the clerks fell over themselves to welcome her, seat her, and offer her refreshment, she could only suppose she looked the part of a great lady. Despite the novelty of such fawning, she was relieved when Mr. Archibald rolled out of his office to rescue her.
He was a large, rotund man with a beaming smile and eyes that showed a tendency to disappear into the flab of his face. He had never shown her anything other than friendliness and respect, and she was somewhat relieved to discover his manner unchanged.
“What an unexpected pleasure, my lady!” He ushered her into his office and held the visitor’s chair for her to sit. “But you should have simply sent for me. I would have been glad to call on you at an hour of your choosing.”
“There was no need. I was out and about early and decided to make use of the morning. How are you, Mr. Archibald?”
