Truth about Leo (24 page)

He grinned at her. “I like the way your mind works. Have I told you that? Well, it's true, I do. I like that you're just as willing to engage in mutual ravaging as I am and also that you say what you think. Few women I know do that.”

“Thom does,” Dagmar pointed out.

“Yes, but I have no desire to be married to her. You wouldn't let me, even if I did.”

“Nick would probably have something to say about that too.”

“Indeed he would.” Leo took her hand. Dagmar wasn't sure why such a simple gesture warmed her heart the way it did, but the touch of his fingers against hers made her want to burst into a lusty song that Henrik was wont to sing after a visit to the local harlot. “I assume your original question referred to the situation with Philip Dalton?”

“Yes. You have suspicions about him, grave suspicions that I can't even put into words because they seem so outrageous.”

“More outrageous than the idea that your friend murdered our hostess in an act of sheer cold blood?”

“No. But still very unlikely. Plus, I don't see how it could be done.”

“That is why the few hours of polite chat that we will be obligated to make with Plum and Harry will feature the subject at hand.” Leo's expression shifted from lighthearted to one of a darker mien. “I'd like to get Nick's and Harry's opinion just in case we are both sniffing down a false path.”

The evening passed just as Leo suggested. When they arrived at the Rosses' house, Dagmar was shown to a first-floor bedchamber, having promised most faithfully not to venture into the floor above, where the children and the stricken servants were quarantined.

“This isn't the best room by any stretch of the imagination, but it will do in a pinch, and a pinch is exactly what you and Leo are in,” Plum told her, waving a vague hand around the room. “How are you set for clothing? You're slighter than I am, and not as tall as Thom, but if you are in need of some garments until your wardrobe is finished, we'd be happy to lend you what you need.”

“I'm fine, thank you. Louisa gave me a couple of gowns, and I won't need anything more before the seamstress is done. Plum.” Dagmar glanced at the open door. “I should warn you that I believe Leo is going to attempt to do something quite dangerous tonight.”

“Really?” Plum's eyes opened wide. “What would that be?”

“I think he's going to try to break into a coffin, and most likely engage Nick and possibly Harry to help him.”

Plum gazed at her with an O of surprise on her lips for a few seconds before she raised her eyebrows and said, “So it's like that, is it?”

Dagmar nodded. “Naturally, I won't let him risk himself in that manner. If he were caught, he'd have absolutely no excuse to offer, and if what he thinks is true, he might also be in grave danger.”

“Well then,” Plum said, slipping her arm through Dagmar's as the two women left the room and started down the stairs to the floor below. “We'll just have to see to it that no harm comes to him, won't we?”

“I really do like you,” Dagmar told the older woman. “I'm so glad that you are Leo's friend.”

“Your friend too now, my dear,” Plum told her with a laugh and pressed her hand.

Supper was a merry affair since Noble and Gillian were present to celebrate the engagement of Nick and Thom, although Leo thought it would have been much merrier if Thom and Nick were actually speaking to each other, but since they had had one of their disagreements over where they would reside and whether Thom would stay safely out of Nick's sometimes dangerous employment, Nick spent the meal alternating a glower at his plate and Thom, all the while Thom spoke archly about the possibilities of marrying some goatherd in Germany.

By common consent, conversation was confined to mundane topics, and it wasn't until the men joined the ladies for coffee that Leo addressed them all. Judging by the look of exasperation that Dagmar shot him when he entered the room, he took it that the ladies had been peppering her with questions that she couldn't—or wouldn't, bless her delectable hide—answer.

He took a stand in front of the fireplace and faced them all. “I'd like to preface what I am about to say with the statement that I have no actual proof of anything. You were all present at the interview with Dagmar's companion, and you heard the broad hints she made and no doubt have little difficulty in interpreting them. At the time, I thought they were a wild attempt at dragging attention away from herself and onto the nearest scapegoat, but after seeing Philip Dalton a few hours ago, I have changed my mind.”

“You saw the body?” Nick asked, momentarily distracted from mouthing silent things to Thom, who was pointedly perusing a book about Germany. “Was red ink present on the mouth?”

“No, we didn't see the body.” Leo's gaze touched Dagmar for a moment before returning to the room in general. She smiled at him, and he thought longingly of the bed that must even now be waiting for them. “Not for the lack of trying, however. Dalton has had the coffin sealed.”

“That's easy enough to get around,” Harry said with a dismissive shrug. “Simply unbolt it.”

“We did, but he's also seen fit to use lead seals on the coffin.”

The company as a whole stared at him. “Lead
seals
?” Noble asked. “I don't believe I've ever seen that on a coffin.”

“It's not unknown in Eastern Europe,” Leo told them. “Usually in cases of plague. I have never seen the like in England, however, but the seals are present. They're about the size of a plate, three on either side of the coffin.”

“Well, that proves that something is wrong,” Gillian said, her brow wrinkled with thought. “Who would seal a coffin in such a way unless he had something to hide? The question is, what exactly is that something? Surely there can't be anything amiss with the body of his sister?”

“I think, my dear, Leo is hinting that perhaps what's amiss is the lack of a body,” Noble said thoughtfully.

Leo nodded. “That is exactly what I've come to suspect.”

“But where is it then?” Plum asked, looking confused. “What did Philip do with her?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Plum's expression was almost comically shocked. “You don't mean he just dumped her out in the wilds for the animals to scavenge?”

“No, I mean there wasn't a body to be disposed of.”

“Leo,” Plum said firmly, giving him a sympathetic look. “There is a body. You saw it. Dagmar saw it. For heaven's sake, you witnessed the poor woman's murder! How can you say there isn't a body when there must be?”

“Because what we saw was a cleverly planned, and exquisitely performed, farce.” Leo smiled at Dagmar and let a little of his lustful thoughts show in his eyes, enough so that she suddenly sat up straight and blushed adorably.

“Louisa Hayes isn't dead?” Thom asked, clearly drawn into the conversation despite her better intentions. “Why did she pretend to be so?”

“That is something I have yet to understand,” Leo admitted. “But given what Dagmar's companion said, and the fact that Philip Dalton must have come close to straining a muscle getting to the room where Dagmar and I were closeted with the coffin as quickly as he did, as well as the fact that the coffin itself is sealed against any and all prying eyes, leads me to believe that what we witnessed was one giant, elaborate hoax. For some yet unknown reason, Philip Dalton and his sister wanted to make us believe that she was killed by Dagmar's companion.”

“That makes even less sense than Mrs. Deworthy wanting to kill her,” Plum protested. Dagmar looked thoughtful and opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated and frowned at her hands instead.

“Why would they do that? What would they have to gain by such a conspiracy?” Harry asked.

“They must have had a reason for doing so,” Gillian said, glancing at her husband. “But I will admit to being a few steps behind everyone else and confused about just how they pulled this wool over your eyes. Dagmar was very detailed when she told us about the events, and it seemed quite clear that Mrs. Hayes was dead.”

“She looked dead,” Dagmar agreed.

“Ah, but looks can be deceiving. And if you recall, Dalton made very certain that neither you or I were allowed to get close to her.”

“That's true,” Dagmar said, her lips pursing. Leo had to fight with the urge to scoop her up in his arms and carry her off to bed where he would sate himself upon her lovely body until they were both exhausted…but then he remembered his bad arm, which forced him to amend the urge to simply sweeping her along with one arm, but even that idea was fraught with difficulties, because Dagmar was sure to insist on seeing to his wound before he could get down to the sating, and might even refuse to let him do all the things that he planned to do because it might hurt his shoulder. He smiled at her again, trying to indicate the fact that he was simultaneously warmed by the thought that she put his welfare so high, and confident that he knew his own limitations and wouldn't push past them on his quest to make her the most sexually satisfied woman who had ever lived. He put all of that and more into his smile.

“Leo, are you feeling all right? You look as if you're about to have a fit,” was the response to all that effort. Dagmar rose and came to his side, placing one cool hand on the back of his neck. “Is your fever back?”

“No, and I am not about to have a fit. Really, woman! That is not the sort of thing a man likes to have said in front of his friends. Besides, I'm not the sort of person to have a fit. I've never had a fit. I never will have a fit. And stop feeling my head. I don't have a fever either. Go sit down and await the satiation to come.”

She blinked, cocked her head to the side, and said, “Did you just chastise me in front of
my
friends?”

“Yes. We're even—my humiliation for your chastisement. Sit.” He leaned over and kissed her loudly, adding in a softer voice, “Please.”

“You're a very odd man sometimes, Leo. I find that I like that about you.” She patted him on the cheek, beamed at the interested audience, and resumed her seat.

“My German goatherd will never chastise me in front of others,” Thom said to no one.

Nick growled to himself, then suddenly leaped to his feet, stomped over to where Thom was sitting in an armless chair, pulled her to her feet, gave her a kiss almost identical in audible levels to the one Leo had just bestowed in Dagmar, then sat down, pulling Thom onto his lap.

Leo decided to ignore them and continued on with his summation of the situation. “Dagmar and I have come to the agreement that it would be wise to look in that coffin. I believe that the proof we seek will be in there—or rather, not in there. To that end, I propose that a small group of us do something quite reprehensible.”

“Excellent!” Harry said, rubbing his hands, his eyes alight behind his spectacles. “I am at your service.”

“You don't know what it is Leo wishes to do,” Plum pointed out.

“It doesn't matter. I haven't done anything reprehensible in a very long time.”

“I will be available for assistance, as well,” Noble offered. “I assume Nick will be happy to lend his aid too, which he'd probably tell you except he's busy kissing my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

“I'm your man,” Nick managed to say before Thom grabbed his ears and kissed him for all she was worth.

“Very good,” Dagmar said, standing and brushing her skirts. “I'm sure the other ladies will be just as thrilled to join you as I am. Eight people makes a good number for the breaking in of coffins, don't you think?”

“No!” Leo was filled with a desperate knowledge that Dagmar would forever leave him feeling as if the floor had suddenly dropped out from under him. “Eight is far, far too many. Four is good. Four is the right number for breaking into a coffin. Isn't it, Nick? Er…Harry?”

“It is, it is indeed the requisite number,” Harry said, nodding. Plum pinched him. “Plum, you're going to leave a bruise if you continue with that sort of behavior. And if you do that, I won't be able to perform Conquistador in Sandstorm Seeking Shelter as you demanded I do this evening.”

Plum turned bright red and smacked him on the arm. “There are times, Harry, when I see exactly where your boys get their manners. Stop deliberately embarrassing me and help Leo come to the point where he graciously agrees that we will accompany him.”

“You know full well that we're not going to let you men go off and have adventures without us,” Gillian said, patting Noble on the leg. He gave her a long, slow look that had her cheeks turning a little pink too.

“That's right. Leo said I was his partner in covert activities, and if there is anything more covert than breaking into a man's home and rifling through his coffin, I don't know what is.” Dagmar gave him a look that warmed him like the sun in the middle of an August day.

Leo made a few more protests, but in his heart, he knew the cause was a lost one. He could no more deny Dagmar a desire than he could cut off his own arm, and besides, he had a plan in mind that would guarantee the safety of the ladies.

“If we're going to do this,” he said after a moment's thought and mental shrug at his lack of common sense, “we might as well do it in the proper style. Nick, if you could tear yourself away from your bride-to-be for a short while, I'd like your company. Harry, I have a job for you too. Dagmar, my darling, if I asked you to stay here while I left you for an hour or two at most, would you do so?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“He's going to go peek in that coffin!” Gillian exclaimed.

“No, he isn't,” Dagmar told her. “He knows that we all want to help. He must have some other task in mind that we can't help with, and so, yes, I will stay here with the ladies. I trust you, Leo.”