The Genuine Article (19 page)

Shrugging off the odd feeling caused by that approving smile, Reginald went in search of the old woman who had made herself head of the household servants. Lady Grace would no doubt wish to have the woman's pastries for breakfast on the morrow.

They congregated in the upstairs hall a short time later to resume their search for the hidden passage. Marian had pinned her hair up before the meal, and now wore a more appropriate afternoon gown that concealed most of her figure in loose folds.

Except Reginald could not forget the willowy slenderness of her waist, nor pretend he did not see the long-legged grace with which she walked. He clenched his teeth and tried to keep his mind on the subject at hand.

"We will need to find the length of the passage, and position look-outs all along the way so our thief cannot escape if he is hiding in it."

"There are no doubt stairs to the first floor. We cannot possibly guard all exits," Marian replied, her gaze following the length of the various halls.

"The house is not old enough to warrant a warren of old passages like some." Darley said. "I think the original owner simply had some eccentric tastes. It would have been costly to build in hidden staircases."

Reginald was fairly certain his friend was too lost in this new game to remember that he was actually talking to a lady.

"It does not appear to me as if cost ever deterred any of the Effinghams," Reginald replied cynically, "but I think we can begin with one of us standing here and watching down the hall where we know one end is, and the rest of us starting down at the end of this other hall and working our way around."

They applied themselves more seriously this time, now that they had some evidence that there might actually be a hiding place. Discovering that the hollow wall began in the master suite occupying the entire north end of the manor, they examined all the rooms in between to determine that it passed behind all of them, then set about looking for exits. Lady Grace stood at the stairway as before and watched with mild interest, calling encouragement.

Possessing more patience than the others, Darley was the one to discover the door concealed between the fireplace and the windows in the sitting room of the master suite. The ladies came running at his call, and they cheered as the hidden door opened. Then they grew silent at the prospect of someone entering that unlit hole.

"I think it might be dangerous," Jessica whispered, standing back from the cold draft of air from behind the wall. "I wish you would not go in."

Marian tried not to give her sister an impatient look, but she could tell she was not entirely successful by the flicker of amusement she caught in Mr. Montague's eyes. She held her tongue, however, and allowed the gentlemen to make the decision, not doubting for a moment that they would ignore Jessica's admonitions.

"I think it would be best if we found another exit before exploring the passage," Montague advised.

"We're more apt to find it from within the passage," Darley argued.

"Perhaps we could follow on this side while you explored the other," Marian suggested. She wished to grab a lantern and descend into the darkness right now to see if it harbored a despicable thief—and her necklace. "You could knock on the walls as you go and we would answer as to which room you're nearest."

This suggestion was eventually adopted, with Darley being given the honor of exploring the passage, since he had discovered the door. Both gentlemen carried pistols but neither thought there would be need of them. The thief was no doubt long gone.

Montague guarded the doors into the hall while Jessica and Marian rushed in and out of the chambers communicating with Darley behind the walls. If the thief left the passage by some route and attempted to leave by way of the hall, Reginald meant to catch him.

By the time they reached the final sitting room at the end of the east hall, everyone was thoroughly disappointed. Darley had reported no hidden treasures, not even a skeleton or an old sword behind the walls, and still no other exits had been found. When he thumped against the final length of the wall and the sound came from within the wardrobe, even Montague joined them in searching for the door.

It was scarcely a minute's work from there to discover the latch that unfastened the door, and Darley stepped out. He dusted himself off as he stepped from the wardrobe, but there wasn't the amount of webs and dust that could be expected from a long-deserted passage. He exchanged glances with Reginald but didn't say anything aloud. The passage must have been used recently.

Marian caught the glance, but her mother rushed in and exclaimed excitedly over the hidden door, examining it front and back while rattling off conjectures on its purpose. The gentlemen could very well guess the purpose, but they didn't mention the possibility to the dowager. For all they knew, her late husband could have kept a mistress in this room.

Marian waited for her mother to quit prattling before asking, "How could Mr. O'Toole have known about this passage?"

Reginald looked uncomfortable. "He claimed to have worked for the old marquess. I wasn't certain whether to believe him or not. I suppose I should have believed him."

Lady Grace looked surprised. "He did not look old enough to work for George. George has been dead nearly twenty years, after all. Mr. O'Toole couldn't have been more than a child then. I should think I would have remembered him."

Silence reigned momentarily. Montague was the first to break it. "Is it possible he may have worked for the new marquess?"

Everyone turned to Lady Grace, who shrugged her delicate shoulders. "It is possible, but I have been told he has been here only a very short while. He is an American, you know. They had to go back to the heirs of the fifth marquess to find a descendant."

It had been her failure to provide a son that had resulted in that search. As far as Marian knew, her mother had never been bitter about being turned from her husband's home upon his death. She had only been upset about the brief amount of time she had been given to do her duty.

"O'Toole didn't sound American," Montague said more to himself than any other.

"I can't think of any good English servant speaking as he did," Marian reminded him. "He was above all insulting. I cannot understand why you engaged him in the first place."

As of this moment, neither could Reginald. Darley, however, interrupted his thoughts.

"O'Toole insulted you?" he asked with a hint of outrage.

That had let the cat out of the bag. Marian bit her tongue and glanced helplessly at Mr. Montague. She could not very well explain the contretemps that had led her to exchange words with his valet.

Reginald lazily explained, "He also acted as my groom. I asked him to take the ladies to some lecture or another and they had a difference of opinion. He was appropriately dealt with for the incident."

The question was quickly dropped as Marian swept from the room declaring as she went, "I have had enough of this nonsense. I think it is time we searched the third floor. Who is to guard the stairs?"

By the time they reached the servants' quarters, O'Toole, his hat, and his cards had vanished. All that remained in his place was the carcass of one chicken.

With frustration and disappointment, the small party searched the remaining rooms, pounded all the walls, and wished the valet to the devil. When their search was complete, they were tired, filthy, irritable, and hungry. It didn't take a second request when Lady Grace called them down to wash for dinner. The ladies went one way, and the gentlemen, the other.

Feeling thoroughly wretched, Marian discarded her filthy gown as soon as she entered her chamber. The ruby was lost, Darley had not proposed, and the elusive marquess was obviously bankrupt. The entire journey had been a complete disaster. She did not see how matters could get any worse.

She did her very best not to even think about Mr. Montague's kiss. If she allowed herself such an indulgence, she would lose sight of all her goals. She could not be swayed from her purpose by a kiss that made her soul ache.

She closed her eyes and tried not to remember Mr. Montague's hands upon her, nor the firm feel of his chest beneath her palms, nor how it felt to be held so close while a man's mouth devoured hers. It would not do at all to think these things.

But the moment she saw his tall, elegantly garbed form standing in the hall waiting to escort them into the salon, her heart pounded, and she greatly feared he would hear the commotion.

Chapter 16

Reginald sipped at the claret some enterprising person had found in the wine cellar and watched, disgruntled, as Marian turned her rapt attention to Darley's repetition of the day's adventures. She was hanging on to every one of his friend's words as if they were pearls of wisdom, when even Reginald was forced to admit they were little more than self-serving paeans to himself. He knew Darley's faults intimately and had never been irritated with them before but was now.

She was staging this show for his benefit, Reginald knew. She was simpering like an idiot to show him she and Darley would suit beautifully. After that kiss today, he damned well knew otherwise, but he was at a loss as to how to prevent the inevitable. Darley was so thoroughly blinded by her act that the viscount would be calling on the marquess to make his offer right now if the dratted man could be found.

Reginald would have to appeal to the lady herself. She knew precisely what she was doing. She wasn't blinded by anything but her damned need to save her family. She could let Darley off the hook gently, if she chose. Reginald would have to force her to so choose.

He bided his time. The ladies rose and left the gentlemen to their claret. Darley followed them shortly afterward. Reginald finished his wine, then returned to the library instead of joining the others. It would drive Marian crazy not knowing where he was or what he was up to. He was beginning to understand her nature very well. And she understood his. She would look for him here first.

He wasn't disappointed. When Marian arrived, she carried a candle and a book she had borrowed earlier from the shelves. They both knew it was highly improper to meet like this, but it was rather difficult not to be in each other's pockets when the party was so small. No one would suspect collusion except the parties themselves.

She didn't even bother to act surprised when she found him examining the shelves. "Most of the selections are quite boring," she informed him.

Reginald tried not to turn and look at her, but the temptation was too strong, and the impact when he did had him running hot and cold all over again. She had dressed for dinner in an appropriately low-cut gown that had kept him on the edge of his seat all evening. He had dined for years with ladies wearing less and had only given them a second glance. He had also seen ladies with more assets to display than this one.

He could see no earthly reason why he should suddenly be so fascinated with a woman who held him in contempt, but his gaze wandered unerringly to the soft swell of ivory breasts in candlelight. Since he still held an open book in his hand, he hoped she would think his eyes were on it.

He forced his gaze up. She was watching him with suspicion, but she really was too innocent to know what he was thinking. Reginald wondered what it would be like to teach her the power of her femininity, but he had a strange reluctance to teach her something she would only use on others.

He answered politely, "Boring, perhaps, but some are quite valuable. This one, for example. There is only one other known copy in existence." He held out the book for her perusal.

It was in Greek. She looked at it with disappointment. "It is in very poor condition."

"The entire library will be in very poor condition if changes are not wrought soon. There is damp in the walls, and without fires in the winter, I daresay the pages are becoming brittle. I have a mind to seek your cousin out and make a bid for the collection." Except that he would have no money with which to make a bid once he repaid the ladies the cost of their necklace. Reginald kept that to himself.

"Obviously, it would do better in the hands of someone prepared to take care of it, but I should think you would find very few buyers for as large a collection as this. Did you think to acquire it all for yourself?"

She had the mind of a shopkeeper. Reginald tried to remember his purpose here. "That is not to the point. I have decided we must return to town in the morning. I will begin transferring funds to your man of business as soon as the banks open. I know you did not wish to sell the necklace, but I think it can be arranged so that your mother believes the copy is the real thing. Once you have the worth of the necklace, you need not worry about funds for quite some while. I can advise you on how to invest them, if you wish. They should bring in more than adequate income for as long as you like and even provide dowries, if that is your wish. You need not go fishing for wealthy husbands any longer."