The Mistress of Hanover Square (14 page)

‘You are certain that the door to the hall was locked?’ Max asked the next morning when Gerard asked him to meet in private. ‘Whoever it was came from the servants’ stairs?’

‘Amelia tried the door leading into the hall and it was locked. She is positive that the intruder came and went by means of the servants’ stairs. Indeed, she saw the shadow escape that way, though it was too dark to be certain whether it was a man or a woman.’

‘It would be easy enough for anyone to come that way once the servants have retired for the night.
However, I gave strict instructions that all the outer doors and windows were to be secured at night.’ Max frowned. ‘I am loathe to think that any of my people would do such a thing, Gerard—but of course our guests have brought their own servants.’

‘It is difficult to point the finger at anyone,’ Gerard agreed. ‘We had a guard outside Amelia’s room and Miss Barton’s room. Nothing untoward was seen.’

‘And we have men patrolling the grounds…’ Max swore softly. ‘Are you thinking…?’

‘That the intruder must have come from inside the house.’ Gerard nodded. ‘ Amelia suggested that it could have been an attempt to steal her jewels, but I am not so sure.’

‘I dare say she does not wish to think it anything more. It is fortunate that she was not asleep.’

‘Very.’ Gerard looked grim. ‘I have been aware that something had changed, but I cannot put my finger on it, Max. I know only that I am uneasy.’

‘What does Amelia feel?’

‘She says that her maid must knock if she is not awake. She will lock her dressingroom door at night.’

‘She is very composed about this, Gerard.’

‘Perhaps too much so for her own good. Amelia trusts everyone.’

‘What do you mean?’ Max’s gaze narrowed. ‘Has something occurred to you?’

‘Yes…at least it is just a little seed of doubt. Something I cannot quite place…’ He shook his head as Max lifted his brows. ‘I am not certain therefore
I shall lay no blame, but my instincts are telling me I am right.’

‘You do not wish to tell me?’

‘Yes, of course. You have the right to know—but you will not tell Helene or anyone else except Harry when he arrives, for I may be wrong.’

Amelia wandered around her bedchamber. She was looking for something, but she was not sure what it was. Her dressing case was there and the contents were intact. Her silver evening purse was lying on the dressing table where she had put it last night before she undressed. What else had she done before she went to bed? Ah, yes, she had written some letters.

The letters were missing. She had left a small pile on the desk. They had gone and she had not taken them downstairs herself when she went down to speak to Gerard earlier, for she’d had other things on her mind. She frowned as the door opened and her maid entered carrying a gown she had pressed.

‘Martha—did you by chance take my letters down to be franked this morning?’

‘No, Miss Royston. I saw them lying on the desk when I woke you first thing, but I was not certain you wished for them to be sent yet. You would have asked had you intended me to do it for you.’

‘Yes, I should,’ Amelia agreed. ‘It is most odd, for I did not do it myself. I wonder if Emily…’

‘Miss Barton did come to your room earlier, miss. I saw her leaving as I came to collect your gown for
this evening. It needed pressing and I had taken some other things to be laundered earlier so I returned to fetch the gown and Miss Barton was leaving. She asked if I knew where you were.’

‘Perhaps she took them down. I shall ask her later.’

Amelia picked up a book she wished to offer Lisa as more interesting reading than those Nanny Horton had considered suitable and left the room. As she went into the nursery, she saw that both Emily and Marguerite were before her. They were playing a game of Blind Man’s Buff with Lisa and another child and the children were screaming with laughter.

Amelia watched, smiling as Marguerite allowed herself to be caught by Lisa and accepted the blindfold from her hand. She stopped suddenly, as if becoming aware of Amelia.

‘Oh, we are playing a game. I hope you approve?’

‘Melia…’ Lisa cried and came running to hug her. ‘Marguerite has been teaching me games and Emily has been playing with us. Have you come to join us?’

‘I came to bring you this book. It is a bestiary and there are lots of pictures of animals and birds. I thought you would like to have it—but you may look at it another day. Go on with your game, my love.’

‘I would rather look at the book with you,’ Lisa said and took hold of her arm, pulling her towards a sofa. ‘It is just a silly game and the book is beautiful.’

Glancing at Marguerite, Amelia saw her flush and smiled, shaking her head. ‘Now that is unkind,
Lisa—and Marguerite was very good to play with you.’

‘Thank you, Mademoiselle Ross—and Emily…’ Lisa tilted her head, a beguiling smile in her eyes. ‘I like to play, but I like books with pictures best.’

‘Well, you have run us ragged and we must rest,’ Emily said, laughing. ‘Next time I shall bring a picture book, miss.’

Lisa giggled and shot a look of mischief at her. ‘I like to play sometimes.’

‘You won’t get round me that way,’ Emily teased. ‘Is there anything you need, Amelia?’

‘No—oh, yes, one thing. Did you by chance take my letters down to the hall this morning?’

‘No. I would not without asking you first. You might not have finished them.’

‘But your letters were downstairs earlier,’ Marguerite said and looked at Emily oddly. ‘I wrote a letter to my mother and placed it in the hall for franking, as Lady Coleridge said I might. I saw a letter from you to Mama, Amelia—and some others. If Emily did not put them there, your maid must have done so. Was there something you wished to alter?’

‘No. They were ready to go, but Martha says she did not take them and I did not for I had other things on my mind…’ Amelia was about to mention the intruder, but changed her mind. Emily had already suffered a bad experience and she did not wish to make her nervous. ‘Someone else must have done so. Perhaps one of the other maids went in to clean and
saw them there. Well, it does not matter.’ She smiled at Lisa. ‘When I was young I used to look at this book with my nanny. I believe you will like it.’

‘Let me see…’ Lisa pulled at her hand. ‘Let me see.’

Amelia smiled and sat down, taking the child on to her lap. The small boy who had also been playing with them looked on shyly until Amelia beckoned to him. He came and leaned against her shoulder, his eyes fixing hungrily on the pictures she was showing to Lisa. After a few moments, both children fired questions at her and she was so engrossed with them that she did not look up for sometime. She saw that Emily had gone, but Marguerite was still there, watching, a strange, halfenvious expression in her eyes.

Thinking that she understood, Amelia handed the book to Lisa and allowed the children to look through it alone.

‘Children are such a blessing,’ she said to Marguerite and went to stand next to her by the window. ‘I thought once that I should never have my own, but now I have hopes for the future—and already I have a daughter to love.’

‘Yes, I dare say the care of a motherless child is as good a reason for marriage as any.’

‘It is certainly one reason,’ Amelia said. ‘Lisa is a delightful child and Gerard did need someone to help with the care of her, but we are good friends.’

‘Friendship is more than most find in marriage. Men are always so faithless…though I do not imply that the earl will be faithless to you, Amelia. After all, you will bring him a fortune when you marry.’

‘Yes, that is true. I expect to be very happy in my marriage. You should not think that all men are faithless, Marguerite, though I know you think of Lucinda.’

‘Lucinda was foolish to trust the man who betrayed her.’

‘Perhaps she loved him and did not think further.’

‘Perhaps. Can you love the child of another woman?’ Marguerite’s eyes were watchful. ‘Will you not think of her, of his wife…?’ She shook her head. ‘Forgive me. I should not have spoken to you so, Amelia. It was not my place.’

‘Emily knows that she may say anything to me—-and so may you, Marguerite. If something is on your mind?’

‘No.’ She hesitated, then, ‘I just wondered if the shadow of…the manner of his wife’s death might hang over you.’

‘I am sorry for the way she died,’ Amelia replied, glancing at Lisa, who was happily absorbed in the book. She wondered how Marguerite knew of Lisette’s suicide, because not even Emily knew more than that Gerard’s wife had died in Spain. ‘It is sad when someone dies tragically but I know that Gerard did all he could for her.’

Marguerite looked as if she would speak, gave a little shake of her head and walked to where the children were still entranced by the pictures of animals and birds. She pointed to some words beneath one of the pictures.

‘Do you know what this says, Lisa?’

‘It is funny writing. I cannot read it.’

‘That is because it is in Latin. It says that the picture is of a parrot…’

Amelia watched for a moment as Marguerite continued to explain what the words meant. She thought that she had chosen well, for Marguerite was obviously good with children. She was surprised that Marguerite should have mentioned Gerard’s first wife. It almost seemed that she knew exactly how Lisette had died, and yet Amelia was sure he had not spoken of it to many people. How could a woman he had never met know anything about Lisette’s suicide?

Amelia was thoughtful as she went downstairs, but then she realised that Marguerite had not actually said anything directly about the suicide. She must, of course, have imagined that Lisette had died from the fever she’d caught after her child was born. So many women died that way that it would be easy to assume it was so. Satisfied that she had misunderstood, Amelia dismissed Marguerite’s words. The look in her eyes was harder to dismiss, for it had seemed to carry a warning.

Amelia dressed that evening in a ball gown of blue satin overlaid with swathes of silver lace. It had a deep scooped neckline that revealed a tantalising glimpse of her soft breasts, and little puffed sleeves. Around her neck she had fastened a collar of lustrous pearls with a diamond clasp that had a large baroque pearl as a drop. On her wrists she wore gold-and-pearl bangles and she had a magnificent sapphire-and-diamond
ring on her left hand. Gerard had given it to her after tea that afternoon, slipping it on her finger himself.

‘It fits. I am relieved,’ he told her, lifting her hand to kiss the palm. ‘I hope you like it, my love. It was commissioned for us. In time I shall send for the family jewels and you may take your pick of them, though I know you have jewels enough of your own.’

‘Most of Aunt’s jewellery was not to my taste and remains in the bank. She was extremely fond of amethysts, but I prefer pearls—and of course sapphires and diamonds.’ She looked at the deep blue of the sapphire oval ring surrounded by fine white diamonds. ‘This is lovely, Gerard—perfect. Thank you.’

‘I am glad you are pleased.’ He reached out to touch her cheek. ‘I care for you so very much.’

Amelia admired her beautiful ring as she went down to the ballroom. It was a long gallery that normally housed musical instruments and several sofas as well as music stands. This evening it had been cleared of furniture and the rooms connecting on either side had their double doors thrown wide so that the effect was of one very large room.

In the first room, Lord and Lady Coleridge stood waiting to receive their guests and footmen were circulating with trays bearing glasses of the best champagne. Amelia accepted a glass and went to stand with Helene. She was one of the first to appear, but she could already hear the strains of music coming from the gallery.

‘May I see your ring?’ Helene asked and exclaimed over it. ‘How lovely, Amelia. Three stones is a shape that suits your hands very well—and I believe you already have a small sapphire-and-diamond cluster that was your mama’s?’

‘Yes, I do, though the shank is wearing a little thin and I did not bring it with me—for I must have it repaired.’

‘That sapphire is such a deep colour,’ Helene said. ‘I am so happy for you, Amelia. If it had not been for you, I should never have met and married Max. I wanted you to be happy too, and now you are.’

‘Yes, I am,’ Amelia said and kissed her. She moved away as Emily and Marguerite entered the room, wandering into the far room where flowers from a hot house had been arranged. There were some exotic blooms and the perfume was quite heavy, making her want to sneeze.

‘Are you all right, Amelia?’

Amelia heard the voice and turned as Marguerite came up to her.

‘Yes, perfectly, thank you. I was feeling a little nauseous for a moment, but I think it may have been these flowers—they have a strong smell, not unpleasant but a little overpowering.’

‘You looked pale,’ Marguerite said. ‘Are you sure you feel quite well?’

‘I shall be perfectly well, but I must not linger near these flowers; they are giving me a headache.’

‘Why do you not go out for a breath of air?’

‘It is too cold. Besides, I am looking forward to
the ball. Excuse me.’ Amelia saw Gerard coming and walked to greet him. She smiled and held out her hands to him. ‘You look very handsome tonight, sir.’

‘And you look beautiful, Miss Royston.’ Gerard’s eyes went over her hungrily. ‘I see some people are beginning to dance—shall we?’

‘Yes, please.’ Amelia took his hand. ‘I have been longing to dance with you again.’

The slight feeling of nausea she had experienced earlier vanished as he took her into his arms. The dancing had begun with a waltz and Amelia felt that she was floating on air as he whirled her along the gallery and back. She felt such sweet sensation, like being carried on a wave of sparkling sea to the stars, lost to everything, but the touch of his hand against her back and the faint masculine scent of him in her nostrils. She wanted to go on and on for ever.

Too soon the dance ended and almost immediately the guests came up to them to congratulate Gerard and wish Amelia happiness. Everyone wanted to know when the wedding would be and all their best friends demanded to be invited, which Amelia assured them would be the case.