Brushed by Scandal (18 page)

Anna sucked in her breath. ‘That was unfair! Peregrine lied to me because he believed himself in love with that wretched woman. The situation with my father is entirely different. He has no reason to lie.’

‘From my perspective, no one ever does,’ Barrington said softly. ‘However, I shall call upon your father when he returns and ask him what he knows about the necklace. His answers will go a long way towards determining where we go from here.’

She was silent for a moment, considering, perhaps, what he had said. ‘I want to be there,’ she said unexpectedly.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I want to be there when you interview my father. I want to hear what he has to say.’

Foreseeing difficulties she couldn’t imagine, he said, ‘I strongly advise against it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because questions will be asked that will be…uncomfortable.’

‘For whom?’

‘For both of you.’

Anna’s face twisted. ‘But if they help to uncover the truth, they must be asked. And I wish to be there to bear witness to my father’s innocence.’

‘Anna—’

‘It’s settled,’ she said. ‘I shall send you a note upon his return. And when you reply to it, I want you to make it known that I am to be included. Will you do that for me, Barrington?’

He knew from the stubborn set of her mouth that she wasn’t going to back down. She intended to be there to witness her father’s absolution. Well, he’d warned her. He could do no more than that. ‘I will do this, as long as you know that I do it under duress.’

She smiled, confident of having won the argument. ‘I don’t need your approval, Barrington. Only your agreement. Besides, I doubt there’s anything you can say to my father in my presence that will embarrass me any more than you finding me secreting a stolen necklace in the base of Julia’s palm.’

Barrington sat back and sighed. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that.’

* * *

Anna was as good as her word. The day after her father’s return, she sent Barrington a note advising him that her father was home, and of his agreement to the interview regarding the baroness’s necklace. As such, when Barrington called at the house the following evening, Anna met him at the door, saying she had already advised her father of her intention to be present at the interview, given that she was as much involved in the matter as anyone else.

Thankfully, both Hayle and Peregrine were out, though Barrington thought he saw Hayle’s carriage pull away just as he arrived. What he might make of it, Barrington didn’t know or care. He was far more concerned with what he was about to find out from the earl.

In the drawing room, Anna sat down in the chair by the fireplace and clasped her hands together in her lap. Her expression was composed, but her eyes betrayed the nervousness she was feeling over what was to come.

By comparison, her father’s face was untroubled, the result of his being completely unaware of what had transpired in his absence. ‘Evening, Parker,’ he said as Barrington walked into the room. ‘May I offer you something in the way of refreshment?’

‘Thank you. I’ll have a brandy.’

‘I’ll join you. Sherry, Anna?’

‘Thank you, Papa.’

As Cambermere crossed to the credenza to pour the drinks, Barrington moved closer to where Anna sat. ‘This is your last chance,’ he said, leaning down to speak quietly in her ear. ‘Things are going to be said that
will
be difficult for you to hear. Are you quite sure you wish to stay?’

‘Quite sure,’ she said, though the slight quiver of her bottom lip told a different story.

Unaccountably annoyed, Barrington turned away. He hated seeing her like this. Hated knowing that the next few minutes were going to be even more difficult than what she had already endured. But there was no easy way of asking the earl what he must; while he wished there was some way of comforting Anna, he realised it was neither his place nor his right to do so. A fiancé or a husband could offer comfort. Not a man charged with finding out the truth about a crime in which her father might or might not be implicated.

‘So, Anna tells me you’ve news about the baroness’s
necklace,’ the earl said, handing Barrington his brandy. ‘Is it good news or bad?’

‘A bit of both, I’m afraid. Your good health, my Lord,’ Barrington said, raising his glass. ‘Lady Annabelle.’

He saw the delicate colour in her cheeks as she tipped back her glass and wondered if it was the potency of the sherry or the unwitting caress in his voice when he’d spoken her name. He’d have to be more careful about that in the future.

Thankfully, the earl seemed oblivious. ‘Well, what have you to tell us?’

‘The good news,’ Barrington began, ‘is that the necklace has been found.’

‘Has it, by Jove! Excellent!’ There was no mistaking the relief in the earl’s voice. ‘Jul—that is, the baroness will be very pleased. Where did you find it?’

‘That, I’m afraid, is the bad news.’ Barrington felt Anna’s eyes on him, but purposely kept his gaze on her father. ‘The necklace was found in your bedroom.’

‘My
bedroom?’
There was a moment of stunned silence as Cambermere’s smile gave way to a look of utter confusion. ‘You found Julia’s necklace in this house…in
my
room?’

‘Actually, Peregrine found it,’ Anna said unhappily.

Her father turned to stare at her in bewilderment. ‘And would you care to tell me what Peregrine was doing in my room?’

‘He was looking for your watch.’

‘My watch.’

‘Yes. Edward said you had asked him to take it in for repair.’

‘Yes, I did. But I asked Edward, not Peregrine.’

‘But Edward had to go out, so he asked Peregrine to take it instead,’ Anna said quickly. ‘Edward told him where the watch was and when Peregrine went to get it, he found…the necklace.’

‘The necklace was in my
wardrobe?’

Unhappily, Anna nodded. ‘In a leather bag next to your watch.’

‘But that’s impossible!’ Cambermere said. ‘The last time I saw that necklace, it was around Julia’s throat. You were both there, at the dinner party.’

‘Then you have no idea how the necklace came to be in your room?’ Barrington asked slowly.

‘I no more know how it came to be in
my
house than how it came to be taken from the baroness’s.’ The earl’s expression hardened. ‘I understood that was
your
job, Parker.’

The note of accusation was unmistakable, but Barrington merely inclined his head. Now came the hard part. ‘It was reported to me that someone saw you take the necklace from the baroness’s bedroom while she lay sleeping.’

Anna’s complexion paled.
‘Wh-what?’

The earl was furious. ‘How dare you, sir!’

‘Sorry, Cambermere. I’m only repeating what I was told,’ Barrington said calmly.

‘I don’t care what you were told! It’s a damned lie!’

‘Do you deny being alone with the baroness in her bedroom?’ Barrington pressed.

Upon hearing Anna’s muffled exclamation, the earl hissed, ‘Damn it, man!
Must
we talk about this in front of my daughter?’

Barrington glanced at Anna, aware that her face had gone as red as the glass globes over the lamps. He’d known it would, but it was too late to do anything about it now. ‘She asked to be present for the interview and since this is a critical point in the investigation, discussion of it cannot be avoided. If you wish to leave, Lady Annabelle, you are welcome to do so. I will call you back at a more appropriate time.’

‘Can’t imagine there
being
a more appropriate time
for something like this,’ Cambermere muttered under his breath.

But Anna shook her head, struggling to overcome her embarrassment. ‘No, I’ll stay. And I am sorry, Papa. It isn’t Sir Barrington’s fault that I’m here. I insisted on being present during his questioning and I am truly sorry if my being here causes you embarrassment. But it is necessary that we get to the truth of the matter.’

‘Lady Annabelle isn’t mistaken, my Lord,’ Barrington said. ‘And I regret that the nature of the question had to be so indelicate. But while what you and Baroness von Brohm do behind closed doors is your own business, you would do well to remember that servants talk.’

‘Servants!’ Cambermere barked. ‘Are you telling me it was a servant who claimed to have seen me take the necklace?’ At Barrington’s brief nod, the earl’s face darkened ominously. ‘Give me his name, Parker. Give me his name and I’ll get to the bottom of this myself. I’m damned if I’ll have my name dragged through the mud like some three-legged dog dragging a stick. Whoever told you they saw me take Julia’s necklace was telling a lie. An out-and-out lie!’

‘Be that as it may, it isn’t a lie that you’ve spent time alone with the baroness.’

The earl coloured. ‘No.’

‘Then it’s possible a servant may have seen you in her bedroom—’

‘Perhaps it
is
best I leave.’ Anna abruptly stood up, glancing apologetically at Barrington. ‘I’m sure it would be easier for my father to talk about this if I weren’t here—’

‘No, wait,’ the earl said. ‘Wait.’ He cleared his throat, then reached for his glass. After downing the contents, he set the empty glass on the table. ‘This isn’t the kind of thing one normally discusses in front of…one’s children. Especially one’s unmarried daughter. But it would be naïve of me to think
that…word of this might not leak out and that you wouldn’t eventually come to hear of it.’ He glanced at his daughter and sighed. ‘Yes, I’ve spent time alone with Julia. We’ve come to care for one another. I haven’t tried to hide that from you, Anna. And given that we are both widowed, we felt there was no harm in…moving forward with our relationship. Can you understand that, my dear?’

Anna nodded, and though Barrington could see that she was still having a hard time meeting her father’s eyes, her voice was steady when she said, ‘I understand. And I don’t blame you, Papa. But it doesn’t make things any easier.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Barrington agreed. ‘Because the question remains, why would a servant make up a story about having seen you take the necklace if there was no truth to it? What would they stand to gain by such a lie? And how do you explain the necklace turning up in your room?’

‘I can’t explain it.’ The earl shook his head, his anger spent. ‘I have no answer for any of your questions, Parker. I sincerely wish I did.’

‘I think it’s someone trying to stir up mischief,’ Anna said. ‘Someone who holds a grudge against you. The maid, perhaps?’

‘I questioned the young lady at length,’ Barrington said. ‘But she said she doesn’t know you and I believe that she’s telling the truth, so I doubt a grudge enters into it. Might it be someone to whom you owe money wanting to make things…unpleasant for you?’

The earl’s head snapped up. ‘What do you know about that?’

‘Only that you had a run of bad luck at the track last year,’ Barrington said quietly, ‘and that you have vowels outstanding to Lords Greening, Featherstone and Blakeley. Your son has also amassed rather staggering debts thanks to losses incurred
at the faro table. Debts you have also been endeavouring to pay off.’

He heard Anna’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Is this true, Papa? Do you and Edward truly owe so much?’ When he reluctantly nodded, Anna said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because it doesn’t concern you,’ Cambermere growled, though not unkindly. He glanced at Barrington and sighed. ‘I can’t deny that there are those to whom I owe money, but the debts are not so large that someone need go to these lengths. I assured Greening and Featherstone they would have their money by the end of the month, and Blakely a month or two after.’

‘And your son’s debts?’

‘With luck, they’ll be paid off by the end of the year.’

‘But what have debts to do with the baroness’s necklace being found in Papa’s room?’ Anna asked.

‘They provide a reasonable motive for theft,’ Barrington explained. ‘A gentleman’s debts are seldom a well-kept secret. One has only to read the morning papers. I found out without any difficulty that your father’s and brother’s combined debts tally to well over sixty thousand pounds.’

Anna blanched. ‘Dear God, so
much!’

‘You needn’t sound so horrified, it isn’t as large as that,’ her father muttered. ‘I’ve managed to pay off thirty thousand of it already.’

‘Unfortunately, your son accumulated another twenty this past week,’ Barrington said quietly.

The earl was aghast. ‘Twenty thousand pounds—in
five days?’

‘I’m sorry to be the one to break the bad news to you, Cambermere, but you would have found out soon enough. And I suspect that whoever took the necklace knew of those debts and planned on using them as the justification behind your stealing the necklace.’

The earl seemed to age ten years as he stood there. ‘I can’t believe that someone would go to these lengths to incriminate me. But I stand by what I said. I did
not
steal Julia’s necklace. I wouldn’t dream of doing such a cowardly, selfish thing. To think how it would hurt her…’ He transferred his gaze to Barrington. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea who
is
behind this?’

‘Not yet,’ Barrington said, ‘but I will find out.’

‘And until you do, I’m the guilty party,’ the earl said heavily.

‘You are
not,
Papa!’ Anna cried. ‘We all know you didn’t take the necklace.’

‘You and I know that, my dear, but I’ll wager Parker has his doubts. And so he should. Right now, the finger of blame is pointing squarely at me.’

‘Only as a result of circumstantial evidence.’

‘No. As a result of the fact that I was supposedly seen taking the necklace by a member of Julia’s staff, and that the said necklace was found in my room by a member of my own family,’ her father said bluntly. ‘The proof could hardly be less circumstantial.’ He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at the man standing opposite. ‘Well, what do you intend to do?’

‘For now, I shall tell the baroness that I know where the necklace is, but that I am not at liberty to say where, or to reveal the identity of the person who took it.’

‘She’s bound to ask,’ Anna said.

‘Yes, but I am not required to give her an answer. I’ll tell her it may compromise the integrity of the investigation.’