Rebel Marquess (18 page)

“Do not fret, my dear, the cads shall not get away with such indecency,” Ashdown said with a crafty curl of his lips.

A shiver of alarm raced down Eliza’s spine. Normally, she wouldn’t put much stock in anything Ashdown said since he exaggerated nearly every truth for added effect. But there was something in his smug expression that caused a flash of concern.

“You sound confident,” Rutherford remarked.

The comment was uttered with such casual disinterest that no one else was likely to think it of any particular significance. But Eliza heard a wealth of inquiry in the comment and was grateful Ashdown proved to be quite willing to expound on his declaration.

“Though the robbery was properly reported to the authorities, I have taken it upon myself to hire a man to conduct a thorough investigation of the incident. And though I really shouldn’t discuss an investigation in progress, I suppose I can share some of the information that has been relayed to me on the subject.”

“Do not leave us in suspense, Ashdown,” Regina insisted. “Tell us what you know.”

Ashdown took a moment to meet everyone’s eye around the table, as if to assure they all understood it was he who possessed the crucial information and no one else.

“My man suspects the thieves who accosted you on the road in Essex were not your typical manner of highwayman.”

Eliza almost forgot herself and rolled her eyes. If her suspicion was correct, Lord Ashdown had just uttered an understatement of epic proportion.

“How so?” Allegra asked with wide eyes, as intrigued by the mystery as everyone else seemed to be.

Ashdown gave a sly grin. “Now, this is based on various bits of information I will not bore you with now, but…the investigator has voiced a suspicion that the thieves are not of the professional sort.”

Sheffield snorted. “What exactly is a
professional
thief, do tell?”

“What he meant is, the thieves who accosted Lady Terribury and my wife do not seem to have appeared before or since that single incident,” Ashdown explained after sending Sheffield a scathing glare. “At least one other guest from the Earl of Blackbourne’s that weekend also reported being robbed by men of the same description. The thieves seemed to have specifically targeted travelers from that party.”

“The thefts could just as easily be completely random,” Eliza suggested. “The road is a common route to and from town, and many of Blackbourne’s guests were traveling that night. That there were multiple victims from the same party does not imply pre-meditation.”

Unfortunately, no one seemed very interested in exploring Eliza’s suggestion and her comments were brushed aside.

“How dreadful,” Belinda exclaimed.

“Indeed,” Ashdown agreed. “Not only that. There is a possibility the thieves may even be associated with the Blackbourne estate.”

Several people gasped at the suggestion. Eliza, who never had the marquess far from her field of focus, watched as Rutherford’s cool manner turned stone cold.

“A bold accusation,” the marquess said stiffly, but Ashdown was not perceptive enough to note the hard edge to Rutherford’s voice.

“After a very long interview,” Ashdown went on, “the driver admitted the horse of one of the thieves looked familiar. He believed he had seen it in the village when he had been sent there on an errand.”

“But that proves next to nothing,” Eliza argued. “That the highwayman may have acquired their mounts at the nearby village does not connect them to the Blackbournes.”

“The evidence sounds terribly circumstantial,” Lord Sheffield interjected with a heavy frown. “You will need a lot more than that if you intend to point a finger toward the Blackbournes.”

As if suddenly realizing a significant acquaintance of that very family sat right across the table from him, Ashdown actually blushed and bowed his head contritely as he slid his gaze toward the marquess. “Oh, please do not misunderstand me. I certainly would never expect the Blackbournes themselves to be involved. The clues simply suggest the thefts may be somehow connected to their party or were perhaps perpetrated by someone originating from the vicinity of their estate.” Ashdown paused and then added dramatically, “From wherever they hail, the criminals will be apprehended. I will see to it myself.”

“Here, here,” Lord Palmer cheered as he raised his glass.

Others joined in the toast as well. To the casual observer, Rutherford displayed nothing more than slight disinterest in the discussion of highway thieves. But to Eliza’s critical eye, tension was obvious in every move he made. His jaw tightened and released as he clenched his teeth and the sharp glint in his gaze suggested his thoughts were anything but restful.

She was desperate to understand what might drive him to engage in the dangerous and criminal act of highway robbery. And until she did, she was determined to keep her suspicion of his involvement a carefully guarded secret.

“My word, Lizzie! Where on earth did you get that?”

Eliza blinked at Allegra’s stunned exclamation, coming as it did so loudly from nearly the full length of the table. The dinner party erupted with gasps and a flurry of questions. A few people jumped to their feet to get a better look. Eliza followed everyone’s shocked gazes to where her hand rested on the table and realized with an audible groan that she had forgotten to keep the ruby ring hidden.

Rutherford went straight from Terribury House to his club on St. James. He was nearly certain he would find Whitely there. Lady Whitely was expecting their fourth child and preferred her husband out of the house as much as possible during her final weeks of greatest discomfort. Whitely’s incessant humor had a tendency to wear harshly on thin-spread nerves.

And since Lady Ashdown was otherwise occupied with her family, Rutherford figured there was a good chance Grimm would be there as well.

He was not wrong on either count, and he wasted no time in calling the two gentlemen away from their card game. Barely thirty minutes later, the three of them were safely ensconced in Rutherford’s den at home where they could be confident they would not be overheard as they discussed the problem of Ashdown’s investigation.

“Bloody ludicrous,” Whitely exclaimed after throwing a slug of whisky down his throat. “Ashdown wouldn’t dare cast blame upon the Blackbournes, even indirectly.”

“On the contrary, it seems he would,” Rutherford replied drily.

Grimm slumped in his chair with a look of mixed guilt and dejection. “This is all my fault.”

“No time for self-pity, mate.” Rutherford’s voice was stern. “The plan was my idea after all.”

“What if we have Simmons turn in the stolen items now, rather than waiting as we had planned?” Whitely suggested.

Rutherford shook his head. “The return of their trinkets might turn Ashdown from his goal, but there is no guarantee it will be enough. For some reason, the man seems to see this as a heroic quest.”

“Well, we cannot leave it as it is, can we?” Grimm asked. He had been running his hands through his hair and the ends stood up from his scalp in a way that visually mimicked the panic in his voice.

“Of course not,” Rutherford agreed as he warmed his brandy in his palm. “We simply have to alter the course of the investigation.”

“Quite right,” Whitely agreed, his green eyes keen with excitement as he sat forward in his chair. “Another robbery.”

“What?” Grimm nearly choked. “You are daft.”

“Whitely is right,” Rutherford stated, having come to the same conclusion on the drive over from Terribury House. When Grimm released a dramatic groan, Rutherford caught his friend’s worried gaze. “I do not worry so much about Blackbourne, but would you like to face Lady Blackbourne’s wrath when she discovers how our little escapade cast suspicion upon her household?”

Grimm’s eyes went comically wide before he hung his head with a shudder he failed to suppress. “No. I would rather face my father.”

“Right then,” Whitely said with a grin, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of another caper. “What is the plan?”

“We will have to hit a mark far enough from Silverly so as to eliminate the suggestion of an association there. But must also stick to a similar
modus operandi
to leave no doubt we are the same thieves from the previous incident.”

Grimm groaned and slumped even lower in his chair. “This is going to be impossible.”

“Stop being so bloody fatalistic,” Whitely snapped in a rare show of irritation. “We are all doing this to save your pale hide, so you had better start offering a more positive contribution to this conversation or I will haul you to your father’s carpet myself.”

Grimm looked for a moment as if he might protest the harsh set down, but then he shook himself and sat straighter in his chair. “You are right. My apologies.”

Rutherford cleared his throat to draw their attention back to the matter at hand. “Now, do either of you know of an upcoming party being held some distance from Silvery, though not too far, boasting a guest list of similar wealth and possession?”

Silence reigned for several moments as each of the men searched their thoughts. Whitely claimed the opportunity to pour a couple more slugs of whisky, causing Rutherford to raise his brows and comment sardonically, “We would be better served if you kept your wits about you, Whitely.”

“Yes, well, the missus refuses to let me touch her these days. If I do not get myself properly sauced before going home, I am unable to sleep next to her without getting my ears boxed.”

Rutherford shook his head in sardonic incredulity. Whitely’s marriage was one of those shocking unions that involved healthy doses of love and passion. Though Whitely would always be a relentless flirt, his heart and devotion were firmly planted at his wife’s feet.

“Good God,” Grimm exclaimed, “you actually sleep with your wife? I wouldn’t be caught dead bedding down in the same wing with mine. I cannot wait until she is gone visiting relatives next week. Oh, bloody hell!” Grimm bolted forward, nearly falling from his chair. “I’ve got it.”

“Considering how much you frequent the bawdy houses, it was only a matter of time, mate,” Whitely quipped as he tipped back another shot.

“No. It’s perfect,” Grimm insisted, ignoring Whitely’s crude comment. “My wife’s cousin is having a party next week. In Hertforshire.”

Rutherford thought about it. Hertfordshire neighbored Essex where they had staged the last robbery and was conveniently close to London, which would allow them to slip in and out of town without being missed.

It seemed Grimm may have come through at the eleventh hour once again.

Rutherford relaxed into his chair and swirled his brandy before taking a drink. Then he met Grimm’s expectant stare. “Tell us more.”

Chapter Fourteen

The hour was quite late, but Eliza wasn’t the slightest bit tired. Though that was the excuse she gave to leave Rose’s party when she saw that Belinda and Lord Palmer were preparing to go.

It was the weekend of the Hyndmarsh’s big party and the Terribury clan was present
en masse
to celebrate the newlyweds’ homecoming. The long tour of Italy seemed to have greatly agreed with Rose. And if her slightly swelled waistline was any indication, either she had enjoyed the Italian cuisine a bit too enthusiastically, or marriage greatly agreed with her as well.

Unfortunately, there were so many well-wishers, Lord Hyndmarsh had a large extended family, there wasn’t nearly enough room for all of the guests at the country estate for the entire weekend. Since the Sheffields had a property not far away, most of Eliza’s family stayed with Regina. Only Lord and Lady Terribury remained at the Hyndmarsh’s residence.

Tonight was the third night of the party and Rose had thrown a grand ball. Guests turned out in droves with dozens having arrived from London just for the night and the dancing was expected to go late into the morning hours. With Lord Rutherford otherwise engaged and unable to attend, Eliza was freed from any expectations and managed to enjoy herself quite well without the burden of being constantly under her mother’s fretful eye. Lady Terribury likely wouldn’t relax until Eliza was fully ensconced in the Rutherford household. However, in spite of the pleasure she found in socializing with the vast number of young people present, she was anxious to return to her bedroom at the Sheffields’ and get back to her work.

Since the announcement of her engagement to the marquess, her mother had not insisted Eliza attend nearly as many social engagements. She had found herself with an extravagant amount of extra time. Some nights she wrote until her fingers cramped from holding her pencil and the light of dawn had started rising over the rooftops. Her reward was that the story of the highwayman and the runaway orphan was nearly finished.

The drive to Regina’s was not far. Lord and Lady Palmer sat quietly on the opposite seat with their hands linked. Belinda had been the one Terribury sister to make a love match. Lord Palmer was more than twenty years her senior, but from the moment they’d met they had been inseparable. Eliza resisted the urge to shift in her seat, feeling like a trespasser upon the quiet intimacy of the scene. Turning her head, she stared out the window and made a distracting game of trying to identify what objects created the various black shadows they passed along the road.

When Eliza first saw the large shape fly past the window much closer than expected, she blinked, not sure what she had seen. The night was dark with hazy cloud cover that filtered the light of the moon and hid the stars from view. But the darkness could not hide the sound of additional hoof beats that seemed to come at the carriage from both sides.