Aurora (17 page)

“He’d tell her you were there. She wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s not my concern. She has asked you to mind him, not lock yourself up in an airtight room. I won’t hurt him.”

“I know that. That’s not why I refuse.”

“I shall be there tomorrow, at three, and if you can overcome your scruples, I hope you will be too, with or without Charlie. The servants could mind him for an hour. But enough of Indian manners. I
do
know better than to force my attentions on a reluctant lady, I hope. I haven’t been gone that long. Ah, I see the Dinsmores have painted their barns. They used to be gray. I don’t like them nearly as well in red. Stick out like a sore thumb.”

The talk turned to mere chit-chat, and soon Aurora was taken home. Raiker did not again urge her to come to the Dower House the next day, but did make a point of saying to Marnie and Malone before leaving that he would be there the next day, if it was convenient for them.

“I’m sure we’d like to see you,” Malone told him, casting a scathing eye on Aurora, who still had not offered to scour the Hall for clues or evidence, after being low enough to go to the place at all.

“We may appear very backward not to be helping you to the best of our ingrate abilities, but at least you’re welcome to come and take a cup of tea.”

“I shall be here at three then,” Kenelm said, with a questioning look to Aurora, then he bowed and left.

“There’s a lad that’s ripe for the plucking,” she informed Miss Falkner. “He’ll be snapped up before the summer’s out by some wide-awake thing. A pity you’re half asleep.”

Chapter Eleven

Lady Raiker was up, dressed and had her carriage standing ready at the door when Aurora Falkner arrived the next morning. “Just make yourself at home, my dear,” she advised her.
“You
must not feel you have to be with Charles every minute. His tutor has him in the morning, and he amuses himself pretty well in the afternoon. It is more for the night that I wish someone in the house. With the gypsies about, I do not like to leave the house without someone I trust.” She narrowed her eyes at Aurora in a suspicious manner as she said this, causing her trusted friend to wonder if she had heard so soon about the outing with Kenelm—as indeed she had, and a pretty underhanded stunt she thought it, too.

“I do not let Charles out alone,” she added. “Oh, at the stables or whatnot is allowed, but I have warned him he is not to go beyond the immediate area of the buildings alone. Well, I am off. Wish me well.”

“I wish you a pleasant journey,” was the farthest Aurora could stretch her duplicity. She went into the house, to face two days’ isolation from her friends and family. She had brought books with her to read, some needlework to busy her fingers, letter paper and her own favourite pen, and long before lunchtime had had a go at these occupations. All were equally tedious when carried on in a still house, disturbed only by an occasional servant entering a room on soft feet. To have some company, she had Charles down to lunch with her, a diversion from his usual habit of eating with his tutor. She liked Charles, a handsome and clever boy approaching twelve years; she discovered traces of both Bernard and Kenelm in him.

“May we go out for a ride this afternoon, Aunt Rorie ?” he asked. She was not actually his aunt, but from confusion with her sister he had addressed her so from his early years, and continued to do so.

The day was fine. The sun shone in through the mullioned windows to the table where they ate. The trees waved languorously in the breeze, and most of all to lure her, there was the knowledge that Kenelm would be at the Dower House at three o’clock.

“It might be best not to, with the gypsies camped nearby.”

“We would go by the post road. They wouldn’t bother us on the public road. We can take a groom if you’re afraid. You shouldn’t be afraid with me, Aunt Rorie. I would defend you,” he said, in all seriousness.

“In that case, we shall go for a ride,” she agreed, suppressing a smile.

“I haven’t seen Aunt Marnie and Mimi for ages. Are they angry with me? Mama says they’re angry, but you aren’t. Why are they?”

“They are not angry, Charles. How foolish.”

“Mama says they’re angry because the courts made me Lord Raiker. I would rather be their friend than Lord Raiker,” he said a little sadly.

“I don’t think your mother would want you to go to visit them.”

“I asked her if I might, and she said you wouldn’t take me. She didn’t say I shouldn’t if you
would
take me,” he added with the winning smile that seemed to run in the males of the family. “Will you,
please?
”

“Very well, baggage,” she answered, laughing. “And if your mama has my scalp for it, remember you are to defend me.”

“I will. She must do what I say.
I
am the head of the family now,” he said happily, and applied his fork to his meat.

It was barely half past two when the two headed their mounts down the road to the Dower House. This was due not only to eagerness. Rorie salved her conscience by plotting to get Charles off to the nursery with Mimi and Malone, so that he would not be exposed to his half brother. She felt Clare could have no real objection to his visiting his other relatives, and did not like it that the boy was being led to believe the family was angry with him. Her plan worked well. Mimi met them at the stable and ran into the house with Charles. Both children lacked for suitable playmates and enjoyed each other’s company.

Malone met Rorie at the door. “Well, have you found out anything?”

“Yes, I have found out Clare must be bored to finders all alone at that house for days on end. The morning seemed sixty hours long.”

“Did you find the receipt?” Malone asked more pointedly, meaning the receipt for sale of the emeralds. Just why this incriminating document should exist, and be left lying about if it did, was of course a mystery.

“I haven’t stumbled across it, Malone. It wasn’t left out in the saloon with the latest papers. I’ll let you know if I find it.”

“No cause to be sartorial about it. It wouldn’t hurt you to bestir yourself while you’re there, right in the liar’s den. Your sister’s gone out with Berrigan, to take tea with his sister. He’s nearly screwed up his courage to pop the question. This is the first time he’s taken her to be approved by the sister, at least. Said when she mentioned the Gypperfield place, as she always makes a point to do when he’s around, that if it was the leaded windows she liked so much,
his
place has leaded windows. Flat. Him six and thirty, and not the gumption to ask a lady proper.”

“What did Marnie say to that hint?”

“Said she didn’t realize his place was up for sale. As bad as he is. She ain’t giving him an inch. Well, it’s a good thing you came, then; young Kenelm is to call this afternoon, and would have had to make do with me for a flirt if you hadn’t showed up. Figured you would,” she added knowingly. “Better run a comb through your hair and sprinkle on a bit of scent. You smell of horse.” She strode off to ride herd on her two charges, while Rorie flew to her room to make a fresh toilette.

She had not thought to meet Kenelm alone, but as a part of the family group, and felt foolish to be sitting in state, obviously awaiting his call, when he came, but he found no fault in the arrangement.

“Good girl,” he said when the butler showed him in. “Did you bring Charlie?”

“Yes, he is upstairs with Malone and Mimi. I ought to call Malone.”

“I have some Indian toys I want to give him—a carved set of animals in ivory. But if I do it now it will reveal clearly to Mama that I was here. I collect you don’t mean to bring him down to meet me?”

“I would rather not, if you don’t mind. But I ought to fetch Malone.”

“What for?” he asked.

She looked down primly. “We ought not to be alone,” she said.

“Oh lord, am I a menace to
you,
too? Is the fact of our being connections not sufficient chaperonage?”

That this irrelevancy added any propriety to the situation was news to Miss Falkner, but she had no real desire to have Malone on her hands and pretended to consider the matter settled.

“Did anything of interest occur this morning?” he asked her.

“No, Malone is disappointed in me. Thought I would have the receipt of the emeralds for her.”

“They weren’t sold. They probably
are
there, hidden somewhere around the house.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I
didn’t steal them; poor old Horace is cold in his grave, or out of it at the moment, with no more than my two rings to his name. They must be there. I wonder where she hid them.”

“Have you any suggestions?” Rorie enquired. She was coming to think that she might do the unthinkable and have a look around in a surreptitious manner.

“Not the obvious places—the safe, under the mattress and so on. They might be hidden in any nook or cranny.”

“They wouldn’t be in any of the public rooms. They would probably be in Clare’s own chamber, don’t you think? I mean, the servants are more about the rest of the house than she is. And she wouldn’t have them in Charlie’s room. They must be in her own.”

“Yes, but that is
not
why I wanted to see you, to bludgeon you into helping me.”

She heard this with satisfaction, accompanied by an urge to render her services, as they were not being sought. Had he asked it of her, she might well have refused. “As Malone says, we might not get into the ‘liar’s den’ again. It is an excellent opportunity.”

Kenelm regarded her levelly. “Don’t put me in a corner like this,” he said, and changed the subject. “Sally McBain is twisting old Dougall’s arm to have a party. You will be coming, I trust? She tells me Hanley always insists on asking Miss Falkner.”

She was surprised at his not leaping at any chance to prove his case; not so surprised, however, that she failed to remark Alice’s trick in intimating she and Hanley were good friends. “Marnie and I are usually invited to Lord Dougall’s parties,” she said. “Kenelm, I was saying—do you have any idea where I might look for the emeralds?”

“Persistent creature. I am not uninterested enough to refuse your help if you are offering it freely, Aurora. Are you?”

“Yes, I’ll have a look around. I don’t suppose I’ll find anything.”

“Probably not. They might be anywhere from attics to cellars. Clare used to be a great one for the attics, now I come to think of it. It’s full of old lumber. She had a spree of dragging down broken chairs and whatnot and having them gilded.”

“I can’t say I relish going to the attics, especially as it will be dark before I have got Charlie home and fed. Nighttime would be the best for secret rummaging. The servants have a habit of sneaking up behind me. I suppose she told them to.”

“Your criminal bent is coming on rapidly. I wonder if it is her influence or my own. Yes, night would be best. And there is her studio—that might yield something. She had a room renovated and turned into a studio. She still paints, I know. There were several pictures of Charlie in the saloon. I wonder what she did with the good Canalettos that were there.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll try the studio and bedroom. Her woman went with her to London, so I should have easy access. If she didn’t lock them,” Rorie added with a wry smile.

“One
of us is fast making you an expert. She will most certainly have locked them if there is anything worth seeing. Do you know how to pick a lock?”

“Good gracious no! How should I know that?” she asked.

“You are coming on so rapidly I thought you might have taken it up. Your education as a ken nabs wants bringing up to date, my dear. Pity I hadn’t brought my passé-partout.” She looked a question at him. “My master key. Regulation issue for us resident bigwigs in India. You never know when you might want to do a little discreet breaking and entering.”

“Do you have one?”

“Most assuredly. Not that I would need it to open Mama’s door. If it is like the other bedroom doors in the house, and it is, or
was,
it can be jimmied with a piece of wire. Bernie showed me the trick. Papa used to lock our birthday presents in the gold guest bedroom. We usually went in to see if we approved his choice before the great day. I never cared much for surprises,” he explained.

“How odd. I adore them.”

“So do I, really,” he admitted, with a smile not so different from little Charlie’s. “But I was always impatient, and broke down the doors.”

“Too bad you couldn’t come and give me a hand,” she said, but in a joking spirit.

“I would be happy to. It’s my house, after all. She is the intruder. Shall I join you, after the servants are in bed?”

This went a long way beyond what she had had in mind. It was no more than rifling a drawer or two she had thought to do, and felt extremely criminal to be doing even that much. She looked up to see Kenelm observing her with a lazy smile.

“Frightened?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“It was a poor idea,” he said at once, but she took the meaning that he was disappointed at her lack of daring. She was disappointed with herself. Lady Alice, Marnie—the others were doing their best for him, and this was her one chance to help. She
knew
he was Kenelm now, knew Clare was a sneak. Why should she not help him? Might it not even be a duty?—Marnie’s favourite word. What could Clare do, if she found out? To raise a fuss would be tantamount to admitting she had something to hide.

“We’ll do it,” Rorie said, summoning all her courage.

His smile turned warm, approving. “Only if you want to. I put all the onus on your shoulders. A trick I learned from my nawab.”

“I draw the line at luring you into it.”

“I’m lured already. I was always susceptible to blond ladies. You talked me into it,” he said, and laughed recklessly. “Tell me, guru, how will it be best for me to enter the door of bliss? That’s probably a profanity against the Upanishads. One ought to respect other people’s religious beliefs.”

“What has bliss to do with religion or with Raiker Hall for that matter?” she asked in total confusion.

“I never got on to the bliss of the Hindu faith, but I begin to foresee glimmerings of it at Raiker Hall. But about the door, I have a key and am strongly tempted to use it, to enter like a gentleman.”