Bath Belles (22 page)

When I came back Roy had turned his revolting charms on Kate. He was making much ado over Baba, trying to wrest him from Duke’s clutches in such a rough way that Kate soon removed her precious child to the bedroom.

“There’s a pretty wee armful,”
Roy said to Des, looking after Kate’s retreating form. “Is this her husband we’re hauling away?”
he asked. There was an undeniable glint of scheming in his eye as he considered that this left Kate unattended.

“No, she don’t have a husband, Roy,”
Des told him. There was an answering glint of understanding and approval in the look Des gave him.

“
Eh
,
how does it come she has a kid, then?”
Duke demanded. I was happy to see this token of conventionality in his thinking.

“Of that ilk, eh?”
Roy asked, but in no disapproving way. It was only interest he displayed. “A lass like that should have done better,”
he added, glancing around the room. He took up one end of Eliot’s body, Desmond’s groom the other, and their conversation continued over the inert and sagging form. “The lass,”
Roy said. “Your bit of stuff, is she?”

Desmond, with unsteady lips, disclaimed any personal interest in the Incomparable. Before Roy left, he called down the hall to Kate, “I’ll be back shortly, miss. Around teatime.”

Kate came into the saloon and blinked a watery smile at him. “Oh, thank you. It will feel so safe to have an officer in the house. They won’t lock me away, will they?”

“For what?”
Roy asked, bristling up most impressively. “The law hasn’t sunk to locking up innocent victims yet. Not while Arthur James Roy has anything to say about it.”

“Oh thank you, sir.”
She glowed. I’m sure Roy would have dropped Eliot and declared himself on the spot had it not been for his audience.

“Don’t you worry, lass. I’ll not be letting anything happen to you,”
he promised, and backed out the door. “You’ll come along to headquarters, Mr. Maitland, to lay charges?”

“I’ll be right there,”
Des replied, then turned to me. “You’d best go home, Belle. I’ll leave my groom here to give Kate a hand. Till her officer returns,”
he added softly, with a little smile. “An ill wind that blows no good, they say.”

“I’ll stay with her.”

“Won’t your mother be worried?”

“Yes, and it will do her a world of good to worry about me for a change.”

“Kate will be all right. I’d feel better knowing you were home.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I have some business to tend to.”

“I’ll stop by later. You
will
let me in, won’t you?”
he quizzed.

“That depends on what new developments occur. If I learn in the meanwhile that I’ve been wrong again, you may find the door blocked.”

“I think this time we’ve sorted it out, except to learn what he did with the money.”

Kate came to thank us. “It was lucky you turned up when you did, Mrs. Mailer,”
she told me.

Duke gave a heavy frown and said, “She ain’t Mrs. Mailer.”

Des opened his lips to explain, but it would have been such a long story that he decided to wait till later. Roy was hollering from the bottom of the stairs for him to come along. I stayed only till the groom returned to bear Kate company, then Duke said, “Shall I take you home, Mrs. Mailer?”

“Yes, please.”

“To which house, Elm Street or Berkeley Square?”

“I believe I’ll go to my Elm Street address today, Duke.”

He gave me a questioning look but said nothing about my suddenly having become Mrs. Mailer. “What happened back there?”
he asked.

“Nothing important. We scotched a snake.”

“You should have killed it,”
he said, but soon twigged that Eliot was the snake in question. I explained the details of the matter and even invited him in when I returned home.

“You’ll want to be alone with the family,”
he said. “This isn’t the time for me to—interfere.”

A modicum of consideration was added to Mr. Duke’s short list of credits. “You’re right, but do come back later, Mr. Duke.”

“My name is Ralph, Mrs. Mailer—er, Miss Haley.”

“My name is Belle, Duke.”

“An odd name for you.”

Must I now add wit to his credits? No, it was not intended as sarcastic humor, but only as a comment.

Before entering the house, I stood back and took a long look at it. It was difficult to imagine that but for an accident I would be the permanent mistress of this tiny establishment. My life would be circumscribed by Graham Sutton, his boring work, and his unsavory relatives and friends. I would be entertaining Eliot Sutton and Yootha Mailer. In time I might have come to accept their lax standards of propriety and their worthless daily routine. How very happy I was to have escaped it. I ran to the door, picked up the fallen brass knocker from the step, and went inside, smiling.

The short daylight hours of that November afternoon were fading to twilight before Desmond returned to Elm Street to give us his report. I had hoped for some privacy, but the little saloon was filled to overflowing. When Yootha Mailer brought Mama and Esther back from their drive, she came in for a glass of wine. No sooner had they taken their seats than Mrs. Seymour came over to inquire for the safety, and perhaps the sanity, of Miss Haley. Her reenactment of my flight in Duke’s curricle was vivid enough that Yootha remained to discover its cause.

This made her late for an appointment with Mr. Stone and Two Legs Thomson. The latter was experienced enough that he did not come looking for her, but Mr. Stone tagged along to Elm Street. Duke had arrived about fifteen minutes after me and was there filling a chair and smiling at Esther.

After guiding Mrs. Seymour to the door, I regaled Yootha with an account of her nephews’
shenanigans. She emitted a few polite exclamations of disbelief and hastened on to what really interested her. “You mean to say Miss Norman had the money all these years and wanted to give it to me?”
It was as good as a raree show to watch the cunning greed on her face fade to regret.

I assured her that Graham had told Kate his aunt would come to collect it, and I demanded to know why she had abandoned the girl in her sorry plight.

“I had no idea she had the money!”
she said.

“I suppose you had some idea she was enceinte, and totally destitute without Graham to care for her!”

“It was hardly
my
place to look after her! I don’t believe in encouraging trollops. A woman like that—you may be sure she found some man to take her under his wing.”

As I had no idea how Kate had existed for those few years, my only answer was a blistering stare.

“But the child, Mrs. Mailer!”
Mama exclaimed. “The baby is your great-nephew.”

“Rubbish! I don’t intend to become a great-aunt for a good many years yet. I am much too young.”

“The poor girl,”
Mama repined. “Something must be done for her.’’

“It is Belle who got the greater part of Graham’s inheritance,”
Yootha pointed out. “If you feel so strongly that Graham’s son requires support, it seems to me—”

“Naturally I shall provide for him,”
I told her stiffly. She might as well have said she didn’t believe me. Her glance said it as clearly as words would have.

Mr. Stone shook his head and clicked his tongue. “A waste of blunt, Miss Haley. Let the little beggar learn to fend for himself. It won’t do him any harm.”

“Mr. Stone!”
Mama gasped, regarding him with the accusing eye of disillusionment. Mr. Stone had just cured Mama of her temporary enchantment, and I was heartily glad of it.

When the wheels of Desmond’s carriage were heard beyond the window Yootha suddenly discovered it was time for her to go. “You won’t want to have much to do with that twisty fellow, Belle,”
she warned me. They met at the door, both bowed stiffly, then Yootha and Mr. Stone left as Desmond entered.

He made a much livelier tale of our afternoon than I had done. He substantiated my theory that Eliot had planned the whole theft well in advance and was lying in wait for Graham when he returned home that night with the money. “He says he had no notion of actually killing Graham,”
he said. “He thought a black mask and a gun would be enough inducement to make Graham hand over the money. He reckoned without his cousin’s determination. They got into a scuffle. Graham got the mask off
him, and after that there was nothing for it but to do away with him. I can well imagine his chagrin when he discovered Graham didn’t have the money with him.”

“Then it was Eliot who had been searching the house?”
Esther asked.

“Half of London’s been in and out. Eliot, my man Grant—I had a go at it myself, and I daresay Billie the Slash paid Elm Street a visit as well.”

“Billie the Slash?”
Esther asked, blinking. “What a horrid name! Does he slash people with a knife?”

“Not at all,”
Des assured her. “A slash is only a bullying, riotous cove. He’s never hushed a cull, to my knowledge."

“Don’t kill his mark,”
Duke translated for her. “So after Pelty posted the cole, Sutton snatched it and ran. Well, Des, you’ve whiddled the whole scrap now, eh? The stalling kens will do business with you again. That’ll save you a few screens.”

“It’s back to business as usual,”
Des agreed.

“Did you recover your money?”
Mama asked.

“Not yet, but Kate tells me Eliot took it to the cottage he hired for her just east of London. He was afraid to leave it in his flat, where I could easily have found it. I’m going to the cottage tomorrow. Some ‘wedding’
Eliot was attending, eh?”

Mama nodded and said, “If he hadn’t made the mistake of letting Kate come back to the apartment in Fleury Lane, he might have gotten away with his scheme.”

“They always make one mistake,”
Des said. “Actually, Eliot made more than one. Once he began spending the banknotes I would have discovered the source eventually. He found Kate such a simple, biddable girl that he thought she’d follow his orders and not speak to anyone. He was in such a rush to get her out of Fleury Lane that he didn’t give her time to pack up her belongings. She became quite insistent that Baba couldn’t be happy without certain favored toys, and she herself had left behind some clothing and things. He brought her home to pack and was to pick her up again within an hour. His groom followed you this afternoon, Belle, and reported you’d been to Fleury Lane. Eliot was on his way to sound you out even before you sent for him.”

Mama sat listening with all the attention usually reserved for her reading of marble-covered novels. “The poor girl. What a lot she has been through. Belle is going to do a little something for her.”

Thus far there had been no opportunity to divulge the extent of my charity, and the present moment was not opportune either, so I would reveal the truth later, when we were rid of our audience. Ettie’s head appeared at the doorway, beckoning me.

“It’s nearly time for dinner. Are they staying?”
she asked.

They both agreed without so much as a token refusal. We dined informally, in our afternoon clothes. Dinner was merry, with the case our sole topic of conversation. I thought Mr. Duke might have the grace to leave after dinner, but he had his sitting breeches on that night. We left the gentlemen to their port, and I outlined to Mama my intentions with regard to the house.

It took a little getting used to. “Do you think—the
whole thing,
Belle?”
she asked. I knew how she felt, but I knew too that a little deeper thinking would show her the rightness of my decision. Graham, though he was not the paragon I once imagined, had shown no evidence of abandoning his illicit family. He was by no means so dark a villain as Eliot. His whole plan to recover the money had been foolishly chivalrous, really. I expected an argument from Esther, for it was understood that my windfall would be shared by the whole family. She appeared completely disinterested.

“That is generous of you,”
she complimented. “I doubt I should give her
all
the money, if it were mine. Then you will be returning to Bath with Mama soon?”

“We shall
all
be returning!”

She colored up and agreed. “That’s what I meant, of course.”
She didn’t fool me for a minute. I knew now why Duke was sticking like a burr. Before the night was over, either Mama or I would be asked for her hand.

I think that without advice from Mr. Maitland, Duke would have spoken to me. His wily mentor directed him to our more biddable mama and engineered the thing in such a way that I was left out of it entirely. Des came to the door and said, “Mrs. Haley, Duke would like to see you for a moment in the dining room.”

When she rose to go, I got up with her, “Not you, Belle,”
he said, taking hold of my hand.

Esther sat looking as innocent as a mouse in a cheese room. “I have to get my embroidery,”
she said, and darted from the room to listen at the keyhole. Esther had never embroidered a stitch in her life. She didn’t even own a needle.

I ran after her. “Esther, what have you arranged with Duke?”

“You’ll see soon enough. And don’t bother trying to talk me out of it, Belle. I’ll marry him if I want to.”

“But you can’t know you want to so soon! You hardly know the man.”

“I know him better than you knew Graham. At least he hasn’t got a mistress and a by-blow stashed away in a corner. Besides, we don’t plan to get married right away. He only wants permission to court me.”
She left me without much to say, but it was clear she wanted my approval. “You don’t dislike him, do you?”

“I’m coming to like him better as I get to know him,”
I admitted. Who was I to prate of “not knowing”
a man? Or of hasty engagements, for that matter? She had known him as long as I’d known Desmond. I hurried back to the saloon to discover if this betrothal business was contagious.

“I suppose you put Duke up to this,”
I said to Desmond.

“It isn’t a proposal, but only permission to court her.”

“Does he plan to remove to Bath?”

“If necessary. My half of the job is to convince you to remain on at Elm Street a little longer. Till Christmas, actually—only a month. We both thought Christmas a romantic time for an engagement.”