Tenacious Trents 03 - A Reluctant Rake (17 page)

Mr. Trent stilled before he leaned
forward. “My brother is the father of Lydell’s child?” he asked in
a hushed tone.

“No,” Audrey hastily answered. She took
a deep breath and sighed. “It would be much easier to explain if I
was only speaking to Grace.”

“This involves my brother,” Mr. Trent
insisted.

“But it is a delicate topic,” she
argued back. “I can’t very well explain the circumstances with a
gentleman in the room.”

Mr. Trent smiled. “I promise not to be
shocked or mortified. We are speaking of my brother and I can
assure you that I have probably heard much worse.”

Her face heated. “You were also a
vicar.”

Mr. Trent laughed. “I am not any
longer,” he reminded her.

He was not going to leave and unless
they knew the truth they would simply dismiss her concern. Audrey
took a deep breath, closed her eyes and blurted out the whole
sordid affair. Audrey paused to breathe and hoped she didn’t expire
from embarrassment. “I don’t know if Lydell has told her the truth
and Millicent simply refuses to believe it or he has said nothing
letting her think it was Jordan Trent that night.”

Mr. Trent lowered his head and pinched
the bridge of his nose as if he were getting a headache. She didn’t
blame him. This entire mess gave her one. A moment later he rose
from his seat and strolled to the sideboard where he poured brown
liquid into a glass. She suspected it was whisky by the color. He
then poured two glasses of wine and handed them to the
ladies.

“And she believes Jordan is the father
of her daughter?” Mr. Trent asked as if to clarify.

“Yes.”

“Does Jordan know?”

“I did tell him.”

Mr. Trent relaxed back into his seat.
“I am sure he did not take the news well.”

Audrey thought back over the
conversation. He had not been nearly as upset as she would have
anticipated. “Whenever I see Millicent, he is all she speaks
of.”

“She was overly attentive to him at
Madeline’s supper,” Grace agreed.

“And Jordan left the party while the
gentlemen were still with their port.”

“There was a reason.” Audrey’s face
began to burn again as she described the scene in the hall and what
Millicent had said. “She pursues him at every turn and has now
decided to use Dalton and Everton in hopes of making him
jealous.”

“Why isn’t Lydell doing
anything?”

Audrey shrugged. “I am not sure there
is much he can do.”

“But you think she is mad?” Grace asked
with a hint of censure. It wasn’t that long ago the residents in
their community claimed Grace’s father should be locked away in
Bedlam.

“It is not the same,” Audrey was quick
to assure her friend. “Millicent is clearly not in her right mind.
Have a conversation with her and mention your brother-in-law and
see what she says. And, pay attention to her eyes. They gleam in an
odd, uncomfortable way and her smile is, oh, I can’t explain it,
but she sets my nerves on edge.”

“I am sure Jordan can handle himself in
this situation,” Mr. Trent assured Audrey.

“Excuse me,” the butler interrupted
from the door. “Lady Lydell to see you.”

Audrey and Grace exchanged a look. “Now
is your chance to find out.”

“Please, send her in,” Grace smiled.
“And ask that a fresh tea service be delivered.”

Mr. Trent stood and took their wine
glasses and placed them back on the sideboard, though Audrey
suspected she would need to finish it before the day was
through.

Millicent stepped into the room and
glanced around. A frown formed on her lips.

“Do come in, Millicent,” Grace greeted
their friend. “It is good to see you.”

“He isn’t here?”

Audrey glanced at Grace and then back
to Millicent.

“Who?” Grace inquired.

“Jordan. I thought he would be
here.”

“No,” Grace answered as she escorted
Millicent to a seat. “I haven’t seen my brother-in-law since last
evening.”

Millicent sighed and settled on the
settee beside Audrey. “I had heard the Trent brothers had come here
after hearing the horrible news.”

“They are not expected,” Mr. Trent
assured her.

“What horrible news?” Audrey found
herself asking.

Millicent seemed to shake herself from
her thoughts, or perhaps disappointment that Trent was not here and
brightened. “Dalton was found murdered.”

“The same Dalton who you strolled with
last evening?”

“The very one.” Millicent took a sip of
her tea. “Stabbed in an alley behind Jesters.”

“Jesters?” Grace asked.

“It is a gaming hell practically in
Seven Dials,” Mr. Trent explained.

Audrey had heard of Seven Dials but she
certainly had never gone there. All manner of unspeakable things
could happen to a lady in that part of town. She wasn’t sure what
since nobody ever actually spoke of them, just that they were
unspeakable, and it frightened her enough just the same.

“Do they know who killed him?” Grace
asked as she placed her cup back on the table. She had lost all
color and her hands shook. Audrey suspected she was recalling the
attempts on her life last fall.

Mr. Trent came to stand behind his wife
and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Millicent simply shrugged. “Does it
really matter?” she took another sip of her tea. “It is a shame
though.”

“Of course it is.” It was appalling how
caviler Millicent was about a man’s murder. They had known him. Not
very well, but he had traveled in the same circles.

“I wasn’t quite finished with him yet,
but there is still Everton, I suppose.”

Grace opened her mouth and Audrey
already anticipated the question and shook her head. Grace frowned
and said nothing.

“Well, since Jordan is not here, there
is no reason for me to be either.” She placed her teacup and saucer
back on the table. “Perhaps I will see you tonight.” With that she
turned and glided out of the room.

Grace turned to look at Audrey. “I am
beginning to agree with you. Something is terribly wrong with
Millicent.”

Jordan stepped inside Whites and
glanced around. At a far table sat two of his brothers, Clay, the
current Earl of Bentley and John, spy for the English Crown. Two
brothers, who couldn’t be any more different. The oldest did as
father instructed. Of course, if one was struck with the willow
switch often enough as a child you tended to not step out of line.
On the other hand, John, the youngest son, did his best to go
against Father at every turn.

He took a seat and ordered a brandy.
Clayton studied him and John hitched a brow, a half-smile forming
on his lips.

“What?” Jordan demanded.

“Might I ask how you came about that
bruise on your jaw?” Clayton asked.

Jordan had forgotten it already. When
he noticed it in the mirror this morning it had already turned a
dark shade of purple, but the swelling had at least gone
down.

“Dalton.” It was about all he was
willing to say on the subject.

“Over a woman?” John
chuckled.

“He can have her. I’ve never had an
interest in that woman.”

Clayton hitched a brow
again.

“She fancies herself taken with me and
I’ve not shown the least bit of interest,” Jordan found himself
defending.

John leaned forward. “Are you certain?
You are rather, shall we say, you tend to flatter the ladies. Could
an innocent comment been taken to heart?”

“I am not even sure I’ve ever
complimented the ladies slippers let alone anything else. We danced
three times last spring and that is only because she was standing
with someone I really wished to dance with.”

“Oh?” Clayton asked.

“Miss Audrey Montgomery,” Jordan
answered before they asked.

Clayton studied him for a
moment before a slow smile spread across his lips. “She is the one
you stole
my
dance for and then warned me away from her.”

Jordan shrugged. Clayton was determined
to find a wife last spring and Jordan wasn’t about to allow it to
be Miss Montgomery.

“She is Grace’s friend?” John
questioned.

Jordan nodded.

“As for this other lady,” John
questioned. “You were polite and now she is in love?

“Apparently but I swear I gave her no
encouragement.”

The footman set the glass before him
and Jordan took a drink.

Clayton leaned forward. “I wouldn’t
tell anyone else it was Dalton you had fought with,” he said in a
low tone.

“Why?” Jordan took another drink. “It
isn’t as if there weren’t two dozen witnesses.”

John and Clayton shared a look across
the table.

“What aren’t you telling
me?”

“Dalton was found stabbed to death
behind Jesters early this morning.”

Jordan set the glass back on the table.
“Who killed him?”

“Nobody knows. But if I were you, I
wouldn’t mention the altercation.”

Jordan leaned back in his chair,
cradling the snifter of brandy. Dalton was dead? Who and why? If he
was killed outside of Jesters it could have been anyone, or for any
reason.

He looked around at the other gentlemen
gathered in White’s this afternoon and a few of them had been
present at Dagger’s when Dalton confronted him. Several of them
were talking about the murder and coming to their own conclusions
based on what they had heard. Of course, who knew how much truth
was mixed with assumptions, if any.

Clayton stood as Jordan finished his
drink. “We were going to visit Matt. Care to join us?

Jordon stared up at his brother and
finally shook his head. He could not believe Dalton was dead. They
weren’t friends and never had been. The man was at least eight
years younger than himself. But, Dalton had come after him last
night. What if someone told the authorities? Would he be
questioned?

“No, there is somewhere else I need to
be.” He stood and followed his brothers out into the gloomy weather
and made his way to the home of Miss Montgomery’s uncle. He gently
rubbed his bruised and swollen jaw. How soon after Dalton had
delivered that punch was he killed?

So far nobody knew why but most
suspected it was over gambling since Dalton had won a good deal of
blunt that evening, off of Lord Creighton to be exact. Jordan had
first suspected Creighton of doing the deed but decided the man
didn’t have the courage. On the other hand, he may be just that
desperate.

The butler opened the door and Jordan
announced himself.

“Miss Montgomery is not at
home.”

Was she not at home in that she was not
in the household or was she not at home in that she didn’t wish to
see him, such as with what had happened last spring. Jordan thought
over what he had done since he had last seen her. There was nothing
she could form an objection to. The only thing she may have learned
about was his visiting Lady Rothsbury early this morning, which was
far more innocent than it probably appeared. But when he had looked
up as he passed her residence the curtains to her room were shut
tight so she couldn’t have seen him leave.

“Do you know when she may
return?”

“No. She was not good enough to advise
me of her schedule.”

The butler did not like him, and hadn’t
last year when he had come to call and Jordan knew he would get no
further questions answered and left his card.

He turned and walked down the street
and glanced across the square. How was Lady Rothsbury this
afternoon? He thought to call on her but decided it best to remain
away. She must be in a good deal of pain and her brother’s carriage
was parked in front so she was being protected.

Jordan relaxed back against the squabs.
Was it too early to propose marriage? Should he wait a bit longer?
If so, how long? Maybe he should ride to Grosmont and meet with
Audrey’s father. It wouldn’t do to make a promise to the lady if
her father was going to refuse him. Not that it would matter
because Jordan would simply haul her off to Scotland and then her
father could do nothing.