Intriguing Lady (20 page)

“I really came to see Lord Bromley,” he remarked at length. “Perkins tells me he left the house early this morning. You don’t, by any chance, know where he went?”

Roberta shook her head, still feeling shaken by the emotions that one look had roused in her.

“No matter,” he continued. “I shall undoubtedly track him down at his club later this afternoon.”

“Has something happened to cause you concern?” she asked.

Sir Nicholas laughed. “Far from it, Roberta. I have only good news to impart. I believe we are nearing the end of the affair.”

“How—how wonderful,” she exclaimed. “You must be pleased that you have managed to resolve your problem so quickly.”

“Do I detect a note of pique in your voice, that I have managed without your help?” he teased.

“That is an unfair comment, Nicholas, for you cannot be certain that you would have managed to decipher that list without my aid.”

“Touché, Roberta, touché. You have been invaluable, and I am only sorry that our paths didn’t cross sooner.” Roberta blushed at the inference. “Now, tell me how you fared in your interview with the comte this morning.”

She shrugged. “It passed uneventfully. He decided against buying the roans, but I managed to interest him in Mr. Lambert’s horses.”

“Did you, by George! Well done!” he exclaimed, a gleam of interest in his eyes. “Did he acknowledge he knew Lambert?”

Roberta related what had transpired, and then, as an afterthought, added that the comte was leaving Town for a while.

“You are a truly courageous woman, Roberta,” he said in admiring tones, “and I’m indebted to you for the last piece of information, for it confirms my own findings.”

“Will you not tell me what it is all about?” she inquired. “If you don’t, I shall be in a constant state of worry over my uncle’s safety. I’m convinced his absence today is in some way connected with the comte’s imminent departure from London. It is just a feeling, but one I can’t shake.”

Sir Nicholas eyed her speculatively for a moment. “You are worrying yourself unnecessarily,” he said, “for if that were the case, I’m sure your uncle would have gotten word to me.”

“There might not have been time, Nicholas. Ashley said he left in a hurry this morning, in the company of a young man. Someone by the name of Lacey, I believe. Sir Lacey?”

“Good Lord!” Sir Nicholas exclaimed, and put his knife and fork down with a clatter. “What time was this?”

There was an urgency to his question that alarmed Roberta. “It was before ten o’clock. Perkins will know. Shall I call him in?”

Sir Nicholas stood up and started to pace the floor, a worried frown creasing his brow. “Not for the present,” he muttered. “I want time to think.”

He resumed his pacing, and Roberta’s agitation increased. “Who is Sir Lacey?” she inquired. “Why should mention of his name upset you so?”

“Lacey Stigmore works in the Foreign Office—”

“And his name was on that list,” Roberta interrupted.

Sir Nicholas nodded. “He has also been invited to attend a gambling party tomorrow night, at a house the comte has hired in Richmond. Now I can’t let him attend for his life might be in danger if the comte hears he visited with your uncle. Damn, I’ll have to think of another way to penetrate that house.” He seemed oblivious to Roberta’s presence as he wrestled with this latest problem.

“I don’t recall seeing that wretched knife sharpener outside when I rose,” she offered timidly, “so mayhap the comte will not know of Lacey’s call.”

Sir Nicholas swung round and smiled. “You’re right, my dear, and thank you for noticing his absence. My plan may still work.”

“But I’m concerned about my uncle’s safety,” Roberta said with a touch of exasperation. Her ignorance of what was happening, coupled with Sir Nicholas’s mercurial mood, caused her to speak sharply. “Nothing you have said has convinced me he is not in danger.”

A commotion in the hallway caused her to break off, and when she recognized her uncle’s voice, she sprang out of her seat.

“Thank heavens he’s here,” she said, and hurried out to greet him. Sir Nicholas followed, a grim expression on his face. “Uncle, I’ve been so worried about you!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

Lord Bromley stopped in the midst of taking off his rain-drenched cape and nodded. “Of course I am, Roberta.” He caught sight of Sir Nicholas. “Ah! There you are, Nicholas. Come into my study; I have some bad news to impart.” He flung his cape at the footman before moving off to his study.

“You’d best retire for a while,” Sir Nicholas murmured to Roberta as he passed her. “Your uncle is obviously in no mood to be fussed over.”

“Indeed I will not,” she responded indignantly. “If something has gone wrong, I want to know about it.” She followed him down the short passage and entered her uncle’s study hard on his heels.

“Shut the door, Nicholas,” Lord Bromley said. He was staring out of the window and didn’t notice Roberta. Sir Nicholas obeyed the command.

“Tytler Edwardson committed suicide last night,” Lord Bromley said, his voice heavy with grief. “Lacey discovered his body this morning after he had received a note from Tytler. In actual fact,” he added bitterly, “it was more of a confession of how he had allowed himself to be used by the comte.”

“Oh, no!” Roberta exclaimed, thoroughly shaken by the news. “His name was on the list, wasn’t it?” She put her hand on Sir Nicholas’s arm, instinctively seeking what comfort he could offer, and stared blindly down at the blue carpet. “He was such a good friend of ours.”

Lord Bromley swung round and stared at Roberta in consternation. “Whatever are you doing here, my girl? I had not intended to break the news to you so cruelly.”

She blinked back the tears that had gathered in her eyes. “I—I—Oh, Uncle! I was concerned about you.” She rushed over to him and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Where, oh where is it all going to end?”

Lord Bromley held her briefly and patted her head lightly. “We will miss him, won’t we? However, we shall have to bear his loss bravely. Reality is, Roberta, that the world is a cold, hard place.”

Roberta sniffed and nodded mutely. She looked across at Sir Nicholas and wondered if his death would come next. She shuddered at the thought and clung to her uncle for support.

Sir Nicholas, as if understanding the cause of her grief, shook his head and smiled reassuringly. “I give you my word, Roberta, that no more of my colleagues will die.”

“I—I trust you,” she whispered. “And thank you.”

“The time has come, don’t you think, John, when the comte’s hand must be forced?” he asked. His voice was hard. “Did Lacey tell you he has been invited to Richmond tomorrow evening?”

“Aye, Nicholas. It is obvious that the comte is ready to snare Lacey and extract what information he can. Though Lord only knows what Lacey can offer in the way of state secrets. He hasn’t been with the Foreign Office long enough to acquire any knowledge of substance.”

“Perhaps the comte seeks to recruit his services, as he did Tavistock’s and Stephen Davenport’s.”

“Stephen!” Roberta exclaimed. “Surely not. I can’t believe he would behave so treacherously.” She moved to the window. What an incredible fool she had been!

“There, there, my dear,” Lord Bromley said. “I thought you deduced that fact from the talk you had with him. He as good as told you, didn’t he?”

“I—I suppose so,” she said miserably. “Even so, it’s difficult to believe. I have been silly, haven’t I?”

“No, Roberta, you have been extremely loyal,” Sir Nicholas said. His voice was warm, and she smiled at him gratefully. “John,” he continued, “it has just occurred to me that we will need Roberta’s help one more time.”

Lord Bromley frowned. “Explain yourself.”

Roberta stared at Sir Nicholas in horror and shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever face the comte again,” she said. “I could never be civil to that serpent, knowing he was responsible for Tytler’s death.”

“You mustn’t let your emotions sway you, Roberta,” Sir Nicholas said, and joined her at the window. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “We need your help more than ever now.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“The next time you see the comte, you are going to have to talk about Tytler. You are going to tell him that you saw Tytler the day before he died and that Tytler told you he had made certain preparations, in writing, to atone for his inexcusable behavior.”

Comprehension dawned on Lord Bromley’s face, and he nodded his approval.

“To what avail?” Roberta asked, gallantly trying to hold back more tears.

“As I said before, the time has come when the comte’s hand must be forced. If he knows Tytler wrote a full confession, he will not rest until he has it. Am I right in assuming, John, that it exposes him for what he really is?” Lord Bromley nodded. “And if we detain him, once he has it in his possession, will that not be sufficiently incriminating?”

Again Lord Bromley nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

“But I have no idea when I will see him again,” Roberta said helplessly. “It may not be until next week, at Lady Devonshire’s.”

“He will be back sooner than you think,” Sir Nicholas avowed, “for I happen to know he is in urgent need of a fast team. Your mentioning Lambert’s horses, Roberta, will entice him to visit you again in the very near future.” He glanced over to Lord Bromley, and then added, in a voice charged with emotion, “We are depending on you to help us once more, Roberta. I know you won’t let us down.”

It was his use of the “us” that charged her courage, and she smiled tremulously. “Couched in those terms, Nicholas, I will endeavor to play my part to the end.”

“That’s my girl.” He laughed and touched her cheek gently before moving away. “It will be interesting to hear what Lacey has to report on the methods the comte uses to induce our colleagues to talk.”

“It will be more interesting to see how the comte’s attitude changes when he discovers that Lacey has in his possession the letter from Tytler,” Lord Bromley responded. “The next few days are going to be very interesting indeed.” He chuckled in delight. “Now, about tomorrow night. Ashley reminded me of the Carmichaels’ drum. I’m of a mind to escort Roberta and Mrs. Ashley. And I want you there as well, Nicholas.”

Roberta’s surprise was evident, for Lord Bromley seldom made the effort to attend social functions. “How perfectly delightful,” she murmured. “To what do we owe this special treat?”

“Visibility is all-important at this stage, my gal. Some crony of the comte’s is bound to be present, and word will undoubtedly filter back to him that both Nicholas and I were enjoying ourselves enormously, and behaving as though we hadn’t a care in the world. That knowledge will keep him off guard a while longer.”

Roberta nodded. “It’s the same strategy you use when you play chess with me,” she said. “Do you promise to play one hand of piquet with me?” she asked.

“Indeed not. I shall be content to sit to one side and watch your admirers make cakes of themselves.”

“I’m a little too old to be so besieged, Uncle.”

“Then I can see I shall have to act the gallant,” Sir Nicholas said lightly. “Would you agree to accept me as a partner, Roberta?”

She detected a note of pleading in his voice and looked away in confusion. “Of course,” she murmured. “It will be my pleasure.”

Chapter 16

When Lord Bromley put his mind to it, he could be exceedingly jovial. And as he entered Lady Carmichael’s, with a lady on each arm, it was apparent to all the onlookers that he was enjoying himself enormously.

Stephen Davenport was standing beside his wife when he first observed the trio being greeted enthusiastically by their hostess. He drew his breath in sharply. It was the first time he had seen Roberta since their confrontation, and he felt an uncontrollable anger as he watched her animatedly parrying her uncle’s teasing. It was apparent she did not regret her decision to turn him away. He was suddenly filled with an ugly determination to humiliate her publicly. Excusing himself from his wife, he left the room before Roberta could see him.

Lady Anita sighed unhappily and clutched her fan tightly. She, too, had seen Roberta. She bit her lower lip nervously. By now, she was familiar with the signs of Stephen’s black moods and knew instinctively that Roberta’s presence was responsible for her husband’s abrupt departure. A premonition that something dreadful would happen if they stayed at the drum seized her, and she hurried after him to try to persuade him to leave.

Unfortunately, an old acquaintance stopped her before she reached the door, and by the time she had finished exchanging pleasantries, Stephen had disappeared.

Roberta, blissfully unaware of the small drama that had taken place, took a seat between Lord Bromley and Mrs. Ashley and looked about her with lively anticipation.

“Good heavens!” Lord Bromley exclaimed. “Is that Sally Jersey over there? My, my, I nearly didn’t recognize her. Whatever is she sporting on her head?”

Roberta laughed. “Dear Uncle, you are so behind the times when it comes to the latest fad. That is a peruke. Fashion demands that its color differ from the wearer’s own hair.”

“Well, in my opinion, it’s more suited to a lady of leaner years,” he retorted. “I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous. What do you think, Ashley?”