Everything I Ever Wanted (10 page)

It was Southerton's own uncharacteristic quiet that silenced the others. This time they did not exchange a single glance but went back to their play, mutually agreed to follow their friend's lead no matter where it took them. In the case of Northam there was a price to be paid in the form of a pound sterling. He paid his debt alongside South, gathered the cards, and motioned to a footman for a round of drinks to be brought to their table.

"And where is your wife this evening?" Eastlyn asked. "The dowager countess has her again?"

North shook his head, some of his displeasure visible in the set of his mouth. Though he could not say why it should be so, he would have preferred his wife were in the company of his mother rather than where he knew her to be. "She's sitting with Lady Battenburn. The baroness sent a servant around saying she was not feeling at all the thing, and Elizabeth elected to go to her."

"Then it is fortunate for you that we're in town to provide a diversion."

"Yes," North said wryly. "Isn't it?" The truth was that Northam had hoped to conclude his assignment with the colonel quickly and still get his wife to the country before October was out. Success on all fronts was eluding him. He glanced at Southerton. Judging by the expression on that worthy, the fates were being similarly unkind.

Mr. Marchman was of the opinion there was no amusement to be gained from Eastlyn's line of inquiry. He changed the subject. "I have it on good authority that Rutherford has exiled himself to the other side of the Atlantic."

"More debts called in?" asked East.

"So it was intimated."

North drew the recently placed snifter of brandy in front of him toward his mouth."Interesting, that. The first I heard of the man's considerable debt was this summer past at the Battenburn estate. The country gala. South was still there when Madame Fortuna revealed it to Lady Battenburn's guests."

"Saw it in her cards, did she?" Marchman said.

It was South who answered. "I would never malign the fortune teller's reputation, but I would not be surprised if she wasn't privy to certain information provided by our host and hostess. If you recall, it was that same evening Madame accused North of being the Gentleman Thief. In that we know she was wrong."

North remembered it somewhat differently. "She said I had certain stolen articles in my possession, which I did, no matter that I had no knowledge of how they came to be there."

Eastlyn tasted his brandy."How I wish I had been witness to that, culminating as it did in Lady Elizabeth's valiant though ill-considered defense of you. Brought you forthwith to the altar, it did."

One of North's brows kicked up. "Such can be arranged for you, East. You have but to name your poison. Lady Sophia or Mrs. Sawyer."

Eastlyn quickly set down his snifter and threw up his hands, surrendering. He looked elsewhere for a timely rescue. "You were saying about Rutherford, West?"

Marchman laughed, a dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Only that he's disappeared. Since he hasn't turned up leg-shackled to an heiress, there is speculation that he embarked for America to make his fortune."

"Or marry one," North said.

South tapped the stem of his glass with a fingernail. A small crease had appeared between his dark brows. "What part of his destination is speculation and what part is fact?"

Mr. Marchman shrugged."I overheard the talk at Simon's two nights past. Why? Is it important?"

"I doubt it," South said easily. It had been South's experience that oft-repeated gossip eventually became fact."I saw him not long ago. He was laying siege on that occasion. It rather flies in the face of his plans to take himself off to America."

"Laying siege?" asked East."A renewed interest in Lady Powell?"

"No." He felt three pairs of eyes boring into him. Lest they mistake the matter and he find himself and Grace Powell once again the subject of speculation, Southerton gave up the truth. "Miss India Parr."

Marchman leaned back in his chair. He was thoughtful. "That explains why it must needs be a siege, but is she possessed of a fortune? I certainly have never heard of such."

"Neither have I," South said. He had given no small amount of thought to the possible sources of Miss Parr's income since the evening he had been invited to her home. It had, in part, prompted his final question to her as he was about to leave. While she did not live lavishly, she certainly lived in a style supported by more than an actress's wage. He considered the gifts that were sent her way by the hopefulsas he called them nowas one wellspring of funds. While he was able to learn that on any evening she was offered at least one truly spectacular piece of jewelry, he had also learned these were never the pieces she accepted. Miss Parr kept the trifles and incidentals: the small stones and settings that had not cost a man his fortune or even his quarterly allowance, the ones that arrived with no expectation of a favor in return but were given merely as tokens of esteem and acknowledgment of her fine performance.

No quid pro quo.

He recalled her saying that no such arrangement existed between her and the colonel. It was apparently a matter of importance to her in her dealings with all men.

It did not help him explain the existence of the house, the number of servants in her employ, the expensive but simple furnishings, or the extent of her wardrobe. He had created an opportunity for himself to visit her home when she was not in residence and once when she was. No one, least of all Miss Parr, had suspected his presence. During the day he had chosen a time when most of the servants were out on errands and the ones remaining could be easily avoided. At night, everyone was soundly sleeping. South still did not count himself as an accomplished sneaksman. Gaining entry to her home had required more in the way of good planning than expert climbing skills or quick reflexes. He was possessed of the latter, but they were not needed. More to the point, he had taken nothing during his visits, nor had he forced his way into those few rooms that were locked. His purpose was to make observations, not to inadvertently bring notice to himself.

" There is someone, is there not?" He had put the question to her that evening because all of his instincts told him it was so. She had answered in the affirmative yet given nothing away. He still had no real answer to the question of the man's identity. Who provided for her? Kept her? Someone made certain she did not have to accept a position as any man's mistress, by seeing to it that she was adequately cared for.

The more South learned, the more questions that were raised in his own mind. Of answers, there were precious few. The colonel denied that he was India Parr's benefactor, but he was clearly intrigued by South's assurance that such a person existed. It left South with a very long list of possibilities.

Eastlyn caught the attention of North and Marchman and rolled his eyes in South's direction. "Wool-gathering again," he said in hushed accents of the type that were meant to be overheard. "I should be offended if I thought it was in any way a personal slight. It appears, though, to be a defect of character."

"Amusing," South said dryly. But he had been woolgathering, so nothing but ridicule would come of denying it. "Another round of cards? North?"

"With you as my partner a second time? Not bloody likely. I should have the duns at my door and no way to pay them. Before you can say 'Philadelphia,' the Compass Club will have become a threesome and I will be fleeing with the clothes on my back and Elizabeth in tow to points west of Land's End."

This speech was met with hoots of laughter, as well it should have been. The wagers among the four friends, while many in number, were notorious for their miserliness. They wagered no more money now than they had when they had been together at Hambrick Hall and their allowances were dear.

"West?" Southerton asked, picking up the deck and flicking through it with his thumb. "You will take a risk, won't" He broke off, looking up as a liveried footman approached. The man carried a small silver tray absent of libation. "Yes?" South asked, for clearly the man had been approaching him.

"This arrived for you, my lord. Only moments ago. I was instructed to give it to you directly." He lowered the tray so the viscount could remove the card.

South opened the envelope, glanced at the card without removing it, then placed it in the inside pocket of his frock coat. "No reply," he informed the footman. When the man had backed away and was out of hearing, South made his apologies to his friends. "I regret I must leave your fine company, but there you have it."

To their credit they did not ask questions. In the guise of farewells, these friends offered words of caution and good luck. It was always thus when one was summoned on the colonel's affairs.

South arrived at the house shortly before one in the morning. It was an absurd hour to conduct business of any nature, but South complied because he was intrigued. He knew his friends thought it was Blackwood who had taken him away from their evening at the club, but it was not so. At least not directly. The card he carried in his pocket was from Miss India Parr.

He was on the point of stepping down from the hired hack when he saw the cloaked figure coming toward him. He was not entirely certain it was Miss Parr until she was almost upon him and ordering him back inside the cab. Bemused, he ducked his head and lowered himself onto the uncomfortable leather seat. She followed quickly, seating herself opposite him. Her voice was huskydeliberately so, he thought, as she rapped out a destination to the driver. "Drury Lane," she said.

There was no interior lamp in the cab. India lowered the blinds over the windows on either side of her before they had gone more than a few feet. Had she not been so earnestly efficient, South could have been moved to amusement by her antics. The hooded cloak, at the very least, put him in mind of the Society of Bishops. Was she abducting him? It was a tantalizing thought.

"We are going to the theatre?" he asked with polite interest.

"Yes no that is, it was said merely in aid of giving the driver a direction."

"Then you have no purpose there?"

"At this hour? Do not be absurd."

"Then, pray endeavor to think of one when we arrive. A forgotten article, perhaps. Clothing. The lines of the new play you're rehearsing. Nothing piques the curious observer more than a destination without design." South leaned back and removed his brushed beaver hat, placing it on the seat beside him. He folded his arms casually across his chest and waited. A slim beam of moonlight slipped past the blind as the cab swayed on poorly maintained springs. The blue-gray light illuminated India's pale hair as she lowered her hood. Strands that were like corn silk in the sunshine had the appearance of rare and precious metals now, platinum and silver worked in a delicate filigree against her scalp.

"It was wise of you to hire a cab," she said at last. "I confess to some concern that you would arrive in your own carriage."

"I was at my club. I accompanied my friends there, so it was as much by necessity that I arrived in this manner as it was good sense."

"Your club," she said slowly. "I had not realized. How did my card find you, then? Doobin was to take it straightaway to your home."

"I am certain he did. He must have impressed someone there with the urgency of conveying it to me. He struck me as an enterprising fellow. I do not think you have to worry on his account." South's eyes narrowed as he attempted to make out the features of her face. The slanted, shifting beam of moonshine fell over her shoulder and the back of one hand she had raised to her throat. The effect was that of a finely honed blade laid sharply against her neck. It was not a pleasant image. "Perhaps you could begin by telling me why I've been summoned," he said. "At such an hour and in such a fashion. You did not go about reaching Mr. Kendall in this havey-cavey manner, I hope."

"No," she said quickly. "I never" She paused. "You think this is havey-cavey?"

"Mayhap I have used the adjective prematurely," he said. "But I continue to wait for an explanation."

"You never told me how I might contact you if I had something to recount."

"That is because you should not."

"Not contact you?" she asked. "Or make no report?"

"Both. There is no expectation on the colonel's part that you will continue to provide him with intelligence, since you have refused his protection." It did not mean that she had been unprotected of late, though she should not have suspected as much. It also did not mean that the colonel would not use whatever bit of information she was turning over to him. South tried to glimpse her features again, make out the set of her mouth to see if it was stubborn, or the slant of her eyes to gauge their apprehension. "Something has happened to cause you to change your mind?" he asked.

There was a slight hesitation. "No," she said. "It is concern for another."

"Tell me." Acutely aware of her presence in the small cab, South heard her draw in a long breath before she spoke.

"It is just that I believe something unfortunate may be in the offing for Lady Macquey-Howell."

"Lady Macquey-Howell?" he asked. "Not the Spanish consul?"

"Yes."

"What are your suspicions?"

"There is some scheme of finance between them," she said. "I do not know the particulars, nor do I care to, but I gather the countess has perhaps overreached herself."