The Regency Season: Hidden Desires: Courted by the Captain / Protected by the Major

‘You are so angry and Paul has been torn apart by his grief. I saw it in his eyes when you were holding Mark at the first. You must not suspect him, Adam. He is so terribly hurt by this.’

‘You feel things and you sense them,’ Adam said. ‘If I had not already decided my first thoughts were foolish, I should have accepted your opinion. Thank you for being here. Your calm presence has eased my heart more than you can imagine.’

Jenny shook her head, a flush in her cheeks. ‘If I have helped, I am glad of it, sir—and I would do more if I could.’

‘What we must do is men’s work,’ Adam said. ‘But to know that I may talk to you of what is in my heart means more than I can say.’

The Dawlish family were about to go in. Adam stood back and allowed Jenny to join her friends, then mounted his horse and began the ride back to Ravenscar. For a while his thoughts dwelled on the young woman he had just left, but his thoughts soon returned to his cousin and the hunt for Mark’s killer.

If Mark had won that necklace in a card game, it might have brought the former owner to Ravenscar in the hope of retrieving it—by fair means or foul. Had he tried to buy it back or had he threatened Mark? Mark would surely have allowed the rightful owner to redeem it if he could pay his debt.

Somehow Adam felt there was more here than met the eye. What was he missing? It was an expensive necklace, but surely it was not so important that it would cause a man to do murder to retrieve it? Had it been the deeds to a man’s estate Adam could have understood it—but why kill for a necklace, however expensive?

There must be a further reason. Something of such importance that the murderer had been driven to desperate measures to attempt its retrieval.

In which case he would undoubtedly return to look for it.

Chapter Five

Adam returned to his task of searching Mark’s bedchamber later that afternoon. Having already checked inside the drawers, he took each one out in case something had either been lodged behind or got caught up at the back, but there was nothing to discover. He then began a search of his cousin’s coat pockets. As before he found various small items: a gold fob, a stickpin and several pieces of string, plus two pebbles and a trinket that took stones from a horse’s hooves. It was in a velvet evening coat that he finally came across some gold coins and a handful of screwed-up papers, which, when smoothed out, appeared to be IOUs from a card game.

Mark had won what amounted to five thousand guineas and two different hands had signed the notes. One name was Stafford, which Adam knew to be Lord Jeffery Stafford, or Staffs as his fellow officers affectionately called him. His note was for five hundred guineas; the remaining notes were from Fontleroy.

Mark and Staffs were the greatest of friends. If Staffs had lost five hundred guineas to Mark, he would undoubtedly have paid him when they next met. Fontleroy was another matter. Adam had not been aware that his cousin knew the fellow well enough to play cards with him. The marquis was not a man he would care to sit down with—Adam had once witnessed him cheating, but had kept quiet, advising the victim privately to be on his guard another time, rather than causing a scandal.

Could Mark also have won the necklace from Fontleroy? There was no mention of it amongst the notes—anything to say that he would retrieve it for money at a later date.

Since Adam had now completed his search of the room and both the necklace and the notes had been removed, Adam did not lock his cousin’s room when he left. He would not go there again for there was no reason.

Hallam was to take the necklace to London in an effort to discover the identity of its owner. Adam would show the notes to his cousins. They might provide a reason for Fontleroy to visit Mark, either to redeem them or come to some arrangement, but that meant little. It would be impossible to prove that he had been here or was responsible in any way for Mark’s murder. They had a clue to the possible identity of his cousin’s killer, but no proof as yet that would stand up in a court of law.

Paul was angry enough to take the law into his own hands, but Adam was determined to avoid using more violence than necessary. A thrashing was one thing, but murder was something else. If Paul struck out in anger, killing his victim, it could not bring his brother back.

There was nothing more they could do now until after Mark was laid to rest with his ancestors.

* * *

‘I look terrible in black,’ Lucy said, as she looked at herself in her dressing mirror. ‘Mark would have hated me to wear something like this, I know he would.’ Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke the name of the man she loved. ‘Why did he have to die? I want him back, Jenny. I want him back...’

‘I am sure you do’ Jenny sympathised. ‘I know you loved him.’

‘Mark was to have given me my ring yesterday,’ Lucy said, her throat tight with emotion. ‘We should have dined there last evening amongst friends and our engagement would then have been formally announced to the world—with the wedding at the end of next month, for we did not wish to wait long.’

‘It is so painful for you,’ Jenny said, her throat tight. ‘You must try to get through it as best you can, Lucy dearest. I shall help you as much as I can.’

‘I do not know what I should have done had you not been here,’ Lucy said and sniffed. ‘I wish I need not go, Jenny. Mama says neither of us has to attend the church service unless we wish, but we must be at the reception.’

‘You must decide,’ Jenny told her doubtfully. ‘Mama was always of the opinion that it was not fitting for ladies to attend a funeral—unless it was for a child, husband or parent. Yet it is a matter of choice. I shall abide by your decision.’

‘Papa thinks we should all go since Ravenscar is one of his oldest friends.’

‘For myself I feel it shows respect and I know you would not wish to be lacking in any way, Lucy dearest—but if you really cannot bear it you could tell your mama that you have a terrible headache.’

Lucy sniffed and brushed the tears from her cheeks. ‘No, I shall go—but only to the reception. I do not think I could bear to attend the service and burial.’

‘Then we shall go to the house and wait until your mother and father return with the other guests attending the church. I am certain Lord Ravenscar will understand you are too heartbroken to attend the service.’

Lucy gave a sob and then turned away. As Jenny moved towards her, she swung back to face her and her eyes were bright with a mixture of distress and defiance.

‘Everyone assumes that I’m heartbroken,’ she said, ‘but the truth is I had begun to have doubts. I had intended to speak to Mark and ask if we might wait a little longer.’

‘You were thinking of delaying your wedding?’ Jenny was stunned. ‘Oh, Lucy. I had no idea...’

‘I have been in such turmoil,’ Lucy told her and a little sob broke from her. ‘Our marriage was always the desire of our parents—and Mark was so kind and handsome and generous. I loved him from the time I could walk and he put me up on his horse. Of course I loved him, I cared for him deeply...only I wasn’t sure I wished to be his wife. Sometimes he seemed more like a kind brother than a lover.’

‘Yes, I do understand.’ Jenny nodded. ‘It was as if you were on board a chaise with a runaway horse. You had to hang on because you were afraid to jump off.’

‘You do understand.’ Lucy reached for her hand. ‘I am so glad you are here, Jenny. I could never tell Mama or Papa how I feel, because they would be shocked and even angry with me. I am sad and I do miss Mark—but not in the way people think. It sounds wicked of me, but in a way I am relieved that I shall not have to marry—’ She broke off, her hands flying to her face. ‘I am such a wicked girl to have these terrible thoughts.’

‘Dearest Lucy, you are not in the least wicked,’ Jenny assured her and pulled her hands away. ‘You must not feel ashamed, my love. You cared for Mark as a friend and it is as his friend that you mourn him—and as his friend that you will show your respects today.’

‘I have been thinking that people would think me false and horrid if they knew my true feelings...’

‘Some people might not understand, but I know you, Lucy. I know that your heart is true. You did not wish Mark to die and you would have hated to hurt him had he lived—but I think you must have told him the truth. To have married with so many doubts must have made you both unhappy.’

‘Well, I thought the same—and I’m not certain Mark was truly in love with me. I have thought there might be someone else he liked, but because everyone had assumed we should marry for so long he did not wish to let me down.’

‘He might have been relieved had he lived long enough for you to tell him how you felt,’ Jenny said. ‘I did not know your fiancé well, Lucy, for I met him only once, but from what Adam tells me of him he was a very good person.’

‘Mark was wonderful. Everyone adored him. I loved him, Jenny—but not...not in that way.’

‘I perfectly understand.’ Jenny smiled at her.

‘Yes, of course. You will think me foolish, only...I feel so much better for having told you the truth.’

‘I am glad that I was here,’ Jenny said. ‘Today must be an ordeal for everyone, but it will be over soon enough and then you may start to forget all this unpleasantness.’

‘Yes...’ Lucy looked so woebegone that Jenny sensed there was more, something she had not told her, but she did not press for further confidences. Lucy had unburdened herself as regards her feelings and perhaps now she would be able to face the ordeal before her with a lighter heart. ‘Shall we go down now, dearest? Your mama will be waiting.’

* * *

‘It was unfortunate that it should rain,’ Jenny remarked to Adam later that afternoon. ‘I think it must have made the proceedings uncomfortable.’

‘Fortunately, it left off by the time we had Mark interred in the family crypt,’ Adam said. ‘I must admit the sound of raindrops against the windows was saddening as we listened to the vicar’s sermon.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Jenny hesitated, then, ‘It may be inappropriate of me to ask—but have you discovered anything of importance yet?’

‘Hallam returned from London just before we left for the church. I believe he has some important news. We have discovered a clue—something that leads us to believe Mark’s death may be the result of a card game he won. It is possible that one of the losers had a grudge against him.’

‘That is quite shocking.’ Jenny’s eyes widened in distress. ‘To take a life in such a cause is wicked—but then, there is never an excusable reason for murder. I am so very sorry.’

‘As you know we are all devastated. I think if Hallam has some clue for us it may help, because we must begin to track down our culprit and find a way to bring him to justice.’

‘That will not be easy,’ Jenny said. ‘For the law to work one must have proof.’ She reached out to take a glass from a footman’s tray and because he jerked it away too soon the wine spilled on to her gown. ‘Oh, how foolish of me...’

‘It was not your fault,’ Adam said to Jenny as the footman apologised.

‘It does not matter. It was an accident. Do not worry, it is an old gown. If you will excuse me, I shall go to the chamber we have been given to refresh ourselves. Please do not scold the man, Adam. Truly, it was my fault.’

She smiled at the unfortunate footman and hurried from the room, running up the stairs. At the top she hesitated, trying to recall if she should go to the left or the right; then, just as she turned to the left she caught sight of a door opening at the far end of the right passage. A man emerged, turning away quickly towards the back stairs. Jenny could not but think that she knew the man, but as he swiftly disappeared from view she did not have long enough to be certain.

Shaking her head, Jenny went swiftly along the passage to the ladies’ rest room. A maid was waiting there to assist with accidents and her dress was quickly sponged and dried as much as possible. She thanked the girl and went back down the stairs. Seeing Adam in conversation with his cousin Hallam, she hesitated, then decided that she ought to speak of what she’d seen.

She approached diffidently, because the men seemed to be talking earnestly. ‘Excuse me, Adam—Mr Ravenscar, but I saw something just now. At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor I hesitated to get my bearings and I saw a man emerge from the bedchamber at the far end of the right passage. I seem to recall that room belongs to Mark...’

‘Good grief!’ Adam stared at her in dismay. ‘We thought he might attempt...but today of all days...’

‘We must investigate at once. Miss Hastings—did you see his face?’

‘No, for he turned immediately towards the back stairs and was round the corner and out of view before I could be certain.’

‘Certain of what?’ Adam’s gaze narrowed. ‘Did you know him?’

‘I thought there was something familiar about his build, but I cannot say. I am not sure...just that I felt I ought to know...’

‘You will excuse us.’ Adam followed Hallam, who was already on his way from the large reception room.

Jenny watched him leave, then decided to follow. The two cousins were already at the top of the stairs when she began to ascend them. She reached the landing and saw them enter the room she’d seen someone leave a short time earlier. Instinctively, she walked quickly along the passage and stopped outside the open door. Glancing in, she saw that everything had been disturbed: drawers were left open, papers tossed out to the floor, cushions everywhere and a chair overturned. Feeling awkward and yet unable to resist, she went into the parlour and then as far as the bedroom door, which had been similarly treated.

Adam turned and saw her. ‘You ought not to have followed. Had he still been here there might have been some danger.’

‘I do not think he would return for he has made a thorough search.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Adam grimaced. ‘Had we waited to search, as we should if my uncle had not arranged for Mark to lie in the chapel, he would undoubtedly have found all that he was looking for.’

‘You removed whatever it was, of course.’

‘I did.’ Adam’s mouth thinned with anger. ‘I shall tell you in confidence, Jenny—and this must not go to another soul...’

‘I swear it on my honour.’

‘We found a valuable item in one of Mark’s drawers as well as some promissory notes. Hallam has discovered that the necklace was stolen with other jewels some weeks ago. Further inquiries have told us that the Bow Street Runners suspect the theft to be one of a series against members of the ton. Whoever lost the necklace in a card game—and we are convinced that Mark obtained it in lieu of gold coin for a gambling debt—must have been involved with the thieves, if not the actual thief himself.’

‘Do you know who your cousin gambled with the night he won it?’

‘We have two names, but there may have been others. Hallam was not in possession of all the facts when he set out for London—but he will return to town tomorrow and speak with at least one of Mark’s debtors. He may be able to cast some light on what happened that night.’

‘If you have a witness to what happened, you may know the name of your thief and that would make him the likely killer,’ Jenny said. ‘You must feel as if you are on the verge of a breakthrough.’

‘Unfortunately, we have no proof that the man who lost this necklace came here to kill Mark,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘It would help if you could recall any detail about the intruder—did you see nothing that might trigger your memory?’

Jenny wrinkled her brow. ‘Forgive me, I should truly like to help you. He was wearing a dark coat and breeches—riding clothes—which was what made me wonder what he was doing here dressed that way.’

‘It is a pity you did not tell us at once,’ Hallam said and frowned. ‘I doubt that he would have lingered once he’d finished his work.’

‘I am sorry. It was only as I thought about it afterwards that I realised I might have seen something important. Forgive me. I should have come instantly to tell you.’

‘How could you know?’ Adam said. ‘Hallam, you must not blame Jenny. She is not at fault here. I should have had a guard set on Mark’s room. I did not imagine that anyone would dare to attempt anything of the sort on a day like this.’

‘It is exactly the right moment. The house is full of people and the servants are busy. We were all distracted and concerned for our guests. He has a twisted kind of courage, Adam.’ Hallam glanced at Jenny. ‘Of course I do not blame you for any of this, Miss Hastings. We should have set a guard on Mark’s room. It was the family’s problem.’ He hesitated then. ‘May I ask you to keep this to yourself?’

‘Yes, of course. I should not dream of mentioning it to anyone,’ Jenny said. ‘Forgive me for intruding. I shall go back down now and leave you together.’

She turned and left them, feeling uncomfortable. Had she been quick enough to report what she’d seen to Adam he might have apprehended the stranger.

It was unfortunate that she had not seen the man’s face, but only his back as he turned away. Yet something had seemed familiar to her—but not quite as it should be. Why could she not place it in her mind? If she knew the man he was probably a gentleman, and perhaps a friend of her uncle’s.

No, that was unlikely. Her uncle did not often mix in the circles Mark Ravenscar must have frequented. There were often slight similarities in people, things that made you think you knew someone when you did not.

She would have liked to give the cousins a clue that would lead to the discovery of Mark’s murderer, but she could not and it would be foolish to try to perhaps steer them in the wrong direction.

Adam and Hallam were more than capable of dealing with the mystery themselves and did not need help from her. She must find Lucy. Her friend was in need of comfort and a shoulder to cry on.

* * *

‘So close and yet so far,’ Hallam said as the door closed behind Jenny. ‘Had Miss Hastings come to us at once we might have caught him.’

‘She could not know how important it was,’ Adam said. ‘I feel as you do—but I shall speak to the servants and the grooms. They may have seen a man in riding clothes. Everyone else is wearing formal clothes. I think someone must have noticed him.’

‘It is all we can do,’ Hallam agreed. ‘I wish to God I’d put one of the footman on guard duty.’

‘Had you done so he would have found another way—waited until it was night or come in by the window.’

‘As it is he just walked in and out. How amused he must be at finding it so easy.’

‘Yet he did not get what he wanted,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘We have Mark’s notes and the necklace. You should speak to Staffs. He will recall the game and may know if anyone lost that necklace to Mark that night. We should need a witness. The mere fact that someone lost the necklace in a card game does not make him a thief. He could have been duped into buying it.’

‘In which case he would be unlikely to murder in order to retrieve it,’ Hallam said. ‘If he were not known in society, it would not matter to him—therefore he must be a gentleman. Someone with a reputation to lose.’

‘It all begins to add up—’ Adam said and broke off as Paul walked in dressed in a dark riding coat and pale breeches. ‘Paul, we found this mess—’

‘And you did not think to tell me.’ Paul glared at him. ‘If you imagine I would do something of this kind...’

‘No, of course not. Hallam was with me when Jenny told us of the intruder. We came straight here...’

‘So Miss Hastings knows more than I...’ Paul turned away. ‘I’ve had enough of all this. It is stifling me. I’m going for a ride.’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Adam said. ‘Hallam has discovered something important. That necklace was stolen—’

‘Are you suggesting my brother was a thief?’

‘No, of course not,’ Hallam said. ‘For goodness’ sake, man! No one is accusing Mark of theft or you of murder. Mark must have won it in a card game, as we thought—but the fact that it is stolen makes it more likely that someone might kill Mark to protect himself from discovery.’

‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Paul gave them a brooding look. ‘I wish to God that I knew who it was. At this moment I should need no excuse to break his damned neck with my bare hands.’

‘Paul...please, do not be foolish,’ Adam said. ‘I know how you feel, but—’

‘How can you know?’ Paul demanded. ‘You don’t have people looking at you, wondering how you feel about becoming your father’s heir. Everything was Mark’s and I feel like a thief because I shall now inherit what ought to be his.’

‘Ridiculous,’ Hallam said. ‘Mark was the elder. Now you are—of course everything will come to you in due course.’

‘Even Lucy?’ Paul’s eyes were dark with grief. ‘I’ve seen the way she looks at me—resentful, as if she wishes it was me who died.’

‘I am sure she has no such thoughts,’ Hallam said. ‘You are being a fool, Paul. Lucy is grieving, as we all are.’

Paul shook his head, muttered something and walked away. Hallam looked at Adam and sighed.

‘He’s like a bear with a sore head.’

‘We can hardly blame him. People will wonder and speculate for a while.’

‘I dare say what is upsetting him is Lucy. You know how he feels about her.’

‘He would never have done anything about it. She was always Mark’s future wife.’

‘Yes, but Mark isn’t here now,’ Adam said. ‘Now there is nothing to stop him asking her to marry him—and yet he can’t. To speak now would be like dancing on his brother’s grave. It must be a terrible feeling to see what you desire most in the world within touching distance, but unable to reach out. He must feel she is still forbidden to him.’

‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Hallam looked thoughtful. ‘Poor devil—though...’ He shook his head. ‘Lucy is Paul’s problem. We have more important things to worry about, Adam. If the murderer should turn out to be Fontleroy, we have to discover a way of making him reveal his identity.’

‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ Adam said. ‘That would be difficult, I imagine. With Mark dead there are no witnesses to what happened that day—though if we could prove Fontleroy lost that necklace to Mark in a card game we could threaten him with disclosure. If he thought he might be arrested for theft, he might try to get the evidence from us.’

‘It is a faint hope,’ Hallam said. ‘But first we have to find someone who saw him lose that necklace to Mark—if indeed it was he that lost it.’

‘Do you happen to know where Staffs is staying at the moment? Is he in London or his country home?’

‘It is a wonder he did not come today.’ Hallam frowned. ‘He was one of Mark’s oldest and best friends. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a card from him—is that not strange?’

‘The announcement was in The Times and other papers—and a notice was sent to Mark’s club. I cannot think that he would not have seen it.’ Adam was thoughtful. ‘I believe you should set out for London this evening. If he was a witness...’

‘Then his own life may be in danger,’ Hallam said.

‘And we should also take more care. We have been careless, Hallam. I made the mistake of thinking that the murderer would be running scared—but he may be made of bolder stuff than we imagined. He is certainly ruthless and having murdered once would not hesitate to do so again.’

‘I shall speak to my uncle and leave almost at once. If I do not find Stafford in London, I shall go down to Hampshire, to his country seat—unless I discover he has gone to visit friends.’

‘This grows more dangerous by the minute,’ Adam said and clasped his shoulder. ‘Take care, Hal—I should not like to lose another of my cousins.’

‘I would say the same to you,’ Hallam replied grimly. ‘Be careful when you ride out alone—and keep a loaded pistol with you at all times.’

‘Yes, I intend to, though the search goes on locally,’ Adam replied. ‘I shall wait for your return and in the meantime I shall do my best to restrain Paul from giving way to a fit of despair.’