Unmasking Deception, page 8
Fortunately, Susan knocked at the door then, providing Viola with an excuse to look away. Susan carried a coffee pot and a jug of cream, along with something clamped beneath her arm.
“What have you found, Susie?” Adrian demanded.
Having deposited her chief burden on the table, Susan took the folded paper from beneath her arm. Restlessly, Lord Dominic stood and strode to the coffee pot, pouring out three cups since those were all they had. None of Viola’s siblings had yet acquired the taste for it.
“It’s addressed to Viola,” Susan said, dropping it into Viola’s lap. “Brought by messenger.”
“I don’t know the hand,” Viola observed. She glanced up as Lord Dominic handed her a cup of coffee and held the letter out to him. “It must be the reply to yours.”
“Open it,” he said, turning away. “Tell me what it says.”
He didn’t sit down again. Napper was watching him closely. It came to Viola that he was actually afraid of what his brother would say. Afraid of rejection. She could appreciate that, even as the familiar, much more personal cringing crept over her.
Since there was nothing else for it, she broke the seal and unfolded the letter very slowly, as though a couple of seconds would make any difference to her. The letters danced and jumbled before her eyes, then settled into their usual incomprehensible muddle.
Eventually, she found one word and gazed at it, remembering how… The word was Madam, but she didn’t have the time to work out any more.
“What does it say?” Dominic burst out.
She was about to thrust the letter at him and walk away when she felt Catherine’s hand on her shoulder.
“Dear Madam,” Catherine read. “I hope it is convenient to call as suggested at five of the clock. R. Gorse. He is a man of few words, is he not?”
Relieved on two fronts, Viola cast her sister a grateful glance and then became aware of Dominic’s unblinking gaze on her face.
What did he see? What does he guess?
She sneered at herself. What does it matter?
“Very few,” Dominic said lightly, taking his seat beside her once more. “Will you really be able to smuggle him into the cellar without anyone noticing? What if your mother or one of the servants just happens to be looking out of the window? To say nothing of your lurking Bow Street Runner in the mews.”
Viola forced herself to speak normally. “We’ll give him Adrian’s old cap to wear instead of his own hat, and if he keeps his head down, the neighbors will think it’s just Ade. The Runner shouldn’t be able to see into the garden if we’re careful.”
He regarded her with some fascination. “You are very good at this, aren’t you? You must have hidden many fugitives in your time.”
“One learns how to keep secrets with such a vast array of siblings and cousins. How is your wound, my lord?”
“Fine,” Lord Dominic replied.
“Looking better,” Napper contributed. “He seems to have avoided fever and infection, so far. He’s a restless devil, though. I’ll never keep him as still as he needs to be for very long.”
Judging by last night, that was certainly true. “What you need, my lord, is a game of jackstraws,” Viola declared, rising to her feet. “Why don’t you fetch them, Arabella? I had better go to Mama before she notices we’re all in the cellar. Adrian, you should walk Pup.”
*
Dominic had little time to brood. It was well into the afternoon before he realized he was being managed—kept so busy with trivia and visitors and games that he almost forgot he needed to get out and do something. And he did not even feel trapped.
“You are responsible for this, are you not?” he said quizzically to Viola when she had sent the girls back to the house.
“For what?” Viola asked, pushing the box of jackstraws under the table.
“Keeping me tied to the sofa by invisible bonds of entertaining chatter, childish games, and ridiculous puppies.”
She stole a quick glance at him, her eyes gleaming with humor. She had rather beautiful, expressive eyes of an unusual shade of gray-green. He found them oddly compelling. “I’m sure the wicked Lord Dominic could never be held down by such mundane and childish pastimes.”
“One wouldn’t think so, yet here I am, scarcely moved all day. Even Napper has stopped watching me like a mother hen. Never imagine I don’t know who is responsible.”
He liked the way color seeped into her cheeks, enhancing rather than marring her beauty. He liked looking at her too much. But then, he had liked sitting in the dark with her, too, absorbing her interest, answering her challenges, learning snippets of her life, and guessing at more. She was an intriguing mixture was Viola Dove.
“My siblings look on it as an adventure,” she said.
He hesitated, then said seriously, “I am sorry to have drawn them—and you—into this. It seems I have a bad habit of forcing the innocent into my messes. Napper, you, your family—”
“Your brother?” she asked quickly.
Dominic waved that aside. “Richard should have believed me in the first place. They all should.”
“Believed what?” she asked bluntly. “You don’t seem to know what happened the night Mr. Crawley died.”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that,” Dominic said. “It’s all rather woolly, but I truly don’t recall being alone with any of them. In fact, I’m sure I said good night to the lot of them at my front door. Of course, that doesn’t make sense because we should have passed Minton’s and Jarvey’s rooms first. But…” Impulsively, he reached over her, catching a whiff of some faint yet delicious scent—her hair or her skin…
He seized the paper he had been doodling on earlier and showed her the rough drawing of Piccadilly and St. James. He had marked several crosses on it with initials beside them. “We came from the club here, so we should have walked along Piccadilly to where Minton lives here, and Jarvey here. Crawley and I should then have turned right here toward our own lodgings here and here. But we could all have come to St. James. I’m sure I was arguing again with Crawley.”
“That won’t stand in your favor,” Viola pointed out.
“Actually, it does, because the others were trying to calm us down. And I remember refusing to go to Crawley’s to play more, even with the attraction of swapping dice for cards. In fact, I was quite rude if I didn’t dream it. Minton told me to shut up before we ended up with pistols at Putney. I’m sure I stormed inside my rooms, probably waking poor old Dobbs by slamming doors.”
“Is Dobbs your landlord? Did he not testify to this?” A frown puckered Viola’s brow. “In fact, did none of this come out at your trial? Surely if there was any conflict between your memory and that of someone else, it would have been investigated. I can’t imagine anyone being eager to convict the son of a marquess!”
Dominic stared hard at the map. The old anger flared, but mostly it was pain twisting his stomach and making his wound throb. “My trial was over in minutes. I have a suspicion my father hurried it on and hushed it up to get me out of the country with minimum scandal.”
He was pathetically grateful for the shock in her eyes.
“Your own father believed you guilty?”
He shrugged, trying to hide the bitterness. “They all did.”
“Then is it really a good idea to tell Lord Richard where you are?”
Dominic shifted restlessly. “He won’t betray me—or you—to the authorities. Or to my father. But I need to convince him to help me.”
Viola rose reluctantly to her feet. “I have to make some calls with my mother, but I should be back by five. If I’m not, the children will meet your brother and bring him here.”
Chapter Seven
Lord Richard Gorse had no idea who the girl was who had slipped him the note at Mrs. Dorland’s ball. Once he had read its brief instructions, in the unmistakable hand of his scapegrace youngest brother, he assumed she was one of Dominic’s conquests. He certainly seemed to inspire loyalty in the unlikeliest of females.
The address given was a surprise, too. Located on the very edge of fashionable London, it was a street of impoverished gentility and well-to-do cits with ambitions in society. He hoped Dominic had not played on that.
Finding the mews lane behind Bernard Street, he sauntered along past stables and carriage houses, every sense as alert as if he had been reconnoitering in Spain during the late war, which was interesting. In the last year or so, he had walked much more dangerous streets with far less attention, uncaring whether he was attacked or not.
Dominic, he thought. He was still looking after Dominic. If he could.
A woman emerged from a gate just ahead, with a very large dog who snuffled around the post, wagging his tail. The woman wore an old shawl over her hair and shoulders, so only when she turned to face him did he realize she was the same girl who had given him the note. A few shining auburn curls escaped her shawl, and her grey-green eyes sparkled with animation. He could see that she might well attract Dominic.
On the other hand, was the great dog for her protection? Or for Richard’s downfall? He gave the animal a wide berth as he drew nearer and waited to see what she would do. The dog lunged toward him, but to his surprise, the girl tried manfully to haul him back, even while it dragged her across the lane.
“My lord,” she muttered breathlessly. “Would you mind very much petting the dog, so I can take him back inside?
Richard stared haughtily at the ferocious animal and made a discovery. “It’s a pup!” He held out his hand, and the monster licked his fingers and rubbed itself against them, trying to play-bite.
“This way,” the girl said, marching back through the gate. The huge pup danced along beside her, panting happily back at Richard, though whether regarding him as a new toy or dinner was a moot point.
A boy’s cap was thrust into Richard’s hands as the girl closed the gate.
“Put this on, keep your face down, and swagger, if you please. I’m very glad you’re not in uniform.”
“I aim to please,” Richard said, slightly bewildered. When he had obediently swapped hats, she led him literally up the garden path to what seemed to be a cellar door some distance from the kitchen. She knocked loudly, and as soon as the door swung open, she dropped the lead and let the dog bolt inside.
When she walked in ahead of Richard, he began to lose his suspicion that this was some kind of ransom or blackmail scam. Though when he moved after her and saw two well-dressed little girls holding the door, he did wonder if he was hallucinating again. Was someone putting laudanum in his tea?
Because there at the foot of rough stone steps was his graceless little brother, seated quite at his ease on a sofa. A sofa. In the cellar. And beside him was seated a very young lady, not yet out of the schoolroom, and a boy of perhaps fifteen or sixteen. An older man in the shadows had risen from his stool and stood straight and silent.
Richard returned his gaze to Dominic.
“There,” his brother said with apparent satisfaction. “You do leave the house in daylight hours.”
“Only from extreme curiosity. I thought you’d been shot.”
“Devil a bit.”
Richard, distracted by the children bowing and curtseying to him, took a moment to nod curtly in return. “Hadn’t you better perform introductions, Dom?” he drawled. “Or is the society too secret?”
“Well, everyone knows who you are, but I’ll do it anyway,” Dom said carelessly. “My brother, Major Lord Richard Gorse of the Hussars. Richard, Miss Dove, Miss Catherine Dove, Miss Arabella Dove, Miss Susan Dove, and Mr. Adrian Dove. And this is Napper. And Pup, you’ve already met, I imagine.”
Richard, feeling more bewildered than anything by the presence of so many children, fixed his attention on a recognizable type.
“You’re a soldier, aren’t you?” he said to Napper. “What are you doing with my reprobate brother? Or do you come with the—er…family?”
Napper glanced a little wildly at Dominic, who said, “Oh, Napper was one of my jailers. He actually believes in my innocence, which is refreshing. It is thanks to him I am here and not in some diseased hulk sailing to the other side of the world.”
“You would have survived,” Richard said shortly. “You must have known Father had seen to it.”
“Did he see to my guilty verdict, too?” Dominic snapped.
Richard stared at him. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, at last. “I think he spoke to a few people, made sure it was hurried through the courts with the least possible scandal.”
“And it never occurred to any of you that I would have been found not guilty if there had been any actual evidence presented?”
“Besides the money and the sleeve button at your front door, you mean?”
“Does everyone really think me that stupid?”
Dominic met his gaze, reminded of the recent conversation along similar lines with their father and brothers. Only then, Richard had been making the same defense as Dominic did now. He sighed.
“Please, sit,” said the girl who had passed him the note and brought him here. Miss Dove. “Would you care for tea?”
He blinked and saw that there was indeed a tray with porcelain cups and saucers, a teapot, and a plate of scones. He found himself sinking down on the sofa beside Dom.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Napper, the soldier, and the boy, Adrian, were urging the huge puppy upstairs. Miss Dove was pouring tea, which one of the youngers brought to him and Dominic, while another placed the scones between them.
“Don’t worry about crumbs,” the smallest said cheerfully. “Pup will gobble them up before the mice get a chance.”
With that, Miss Dove herded them out of the cellar, though even after the door was closed, he could hear the sound of childish laughter and barking from close by. He and Dominic were alone.
*
Dominic said, “Why?”
Richard looked just as he had before. Wounded. Aloof. “Why what in particular? Why did Crawley die? Why were you in such a state? Why did you make everything worse by escaping from Newgate?”
“No,” Dominic said bitterly. “Why did you not believe me?”
Richard shifted restlessly. Dominic was fiercely glad to have made him uncomfortable. “You know why. You were going to the devil, Dom. It was pretty clear to most of us that you’d arrived.”
“Cold-blooded murder?” Dominic said harshly. “Really?”
“No,” Richard admitted. “But hot-blooded killing? Yes, I could believe that. Over a woman and injustice, not over the money.”
“Since I left it so contemptuously at my front door?” Dominic said sarcastically. The sense of betrayal had been with him so constantly since his arrest, he barely noticed it now.
“Leaving that fight for another day,” Richard said, “who the devil is this family sheltering you?”
Dominic shrugged. “Miss Dove found me at Maida Gardens, bleeding all over a bizarre temple. She brought me here from kindness. I need your help to repay her.”
“How much does she want?”
Dominic stared at him. “I said from kindness. The only way I can repay her is by getting out of here before she and her family are dragged into my mess.”
“So, you’ll drag me in instead?”
“Yes, I damned well will!” Dominic retorted. “Because you deserve it.”
“For not springing you from Newgate?” Richard mocked.
Dominic glared at him. “For not even trying to find out the truth. The Runners don’t care. They catch their man and get paid. I get my day in court, with no defense except my father’s a marquess! Did any of you try to find out what actually happened? Did you even speak to anyone who’d been involved with Crawley that night? No, you effectively gagged, bound, and condemned me with a barrister who did nothing. And that girl—” He threw his arm up, pointing to the cellar door. “She, a stranger whom you accuse of helping me for mere payment, she did speak to Minton, which means she’s done a hell of a lot more than my own loving family.”
Richard’s gaze dropped to his hands, but Dominic hadn’t finished.
“Hire me a coach to get out of London, and then go back home to your own self-pity and leave me to mine.”
A muscle twitched in Richard’s face. “Where would you go?”
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. I need to think.”
Dominic threw himself back against the cushions. “Finally. Minton and Jarvey are saying they left me walking alone with Crawley. But I do remember saying goodnight to the lot of them at my front door. I think they went on to Crawley’s, but no one ever inquired.”
“Father wanted no scandal,” Richard blurted. “And he thought a new life on the other side of the world might be good for you.”
Dominic stared at him. “Then why the devil didn’t he just buy me a commission in the army and let me die if I had to?”
“You know why.” Richard jumped to his feet, stumbling slightly before he steadied himself on the sofa arm with his one hand.
“So, because you are home, he is now quite happy to risk the life of a different son? The big difference being you chose the army. I did not choose Botany Bay. And I do not deserve it.”
Richard’s smile was crooked. “You still believe anyone gets what they deserve, Dom?”
“Of course, I don’t. If I ever did, several weeks in Newgate cured me of it. The conditions in that place… But that is another fight. I can’t be found here, so get me out, Richard. After that, I’ll hold you to no obligation.”
Richard scowled, rare evidence that he could be roused from whatever private hell he lived in. “Get off your dignity, Dom, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll sort something out.” He marched toward the steps, where he turned, frowning. “And Dom? Don’t touch the girl.”
Furiously, Dominic looked around for something to throw.
*
Waiting in the garden with her siblings and Pup while Napper skulked behind the cellar door, Viola felt baffled. The meeting between the Gorse brothers was certainly quite unlike any reunion in her family. And she had gathered that Richard was Dominic’s favorite brother.
