Edith Layton (16 page)

“But he was seen running to you and was right beside you when you were attacked,” Sir Maurice persisted.

“I said I saw him coming toward me,” Hammond said. “And he was beside me when I felt the blow. It felt like a punch in the chest, not a knife, at all,” he added with wonder. “I didn’t know what had happened, others knew it before me. But there were a lot people around me all that time, I could hardly breathe there was such a crowd. So I don’t know if he did it. I must say I doubt it. If he was out to kill me, I think there have been better opportunities than having at me in front of all the world.”

“Aye, and so said I,” Mr. Murchison said, rocking back on his heels.

“So everyone would say,” Sir Maurice said. “That is why it was a perfect time for him to strike.”

“That’s very rococo!” Julianne exclaimed. “I mean it’s too elaborate. The attack seemed made at the spur of the moment, and so I think it was!”

She fell silent when the baronet turned and stared down his long nose at her, his thin nostrils pinched. But she’d thought about it all this time. Whatever the man who claimed to be Christian might be, she knew in her heart that he wasn’t a killer. She also knew that wasn’t a thing she could say aloud because it sounded weak and foolish even to her own ears.

But she knew what she knew, she thought stubbornly, as she raised her chin and looked back at the baronet. If she couldn’t trust her own insight, whose
could she trust? Certainly not anyone’s in this room; they all had their own aims in the matter. She had a right to her opinion.

Unexpectedly, the baronet smiled. “Please don’t look daggers at me, Miss Lowell,” he said, with that ghost of a smile on his thin lips. “We’ve had enough to do with sharp blades for the day, don’t you think?”

The others in the room traded their shocked expressions for weak chuckles, as the baronet continued to smile. “I’m not sure I agree with you, my dear,” Sir Maurice went on. “But it’s obvious I wouldn’t able to get the local justice of the peace to disagree, at least not in court. No one saw the imposter attack. That doesn’t mean he didn’t have a hand in it. He could have had someone in his employ do it, and likely did. The difficulty comes in proving it. We’ll continue our interviews at the Gypsy camp and investigate the performers and workers who were at the fair. They’re a bad lot; most of them hardened criminals, no doubt. Any one of them could have done it.”

“As could any visitor at the fair,” Mr. Murchison added. “We couldn’t hold them all for questions, sir. But those we think have a personal interest in the matter will be questioned. I’ll speak to the fellow who claims he’s Christian Sauvage soon as I leave here.”

“If he’s still in the vicinity,” Sir Maurice said dryly.

Julianne’s eyes widened. With all her worrying about what might happen to Christian, she hadn’t thought of that.

Sir Maurice slid a glance at her, as he added, “I’ll have to leave it to you, Mr. Murchison. I certainly don’t want to deal with him. You continue your line of
inquiry, and I’ll pursue my own. If you remember anything else, Hammond, I’d ask you to send for me immediately.”

“
I’d
ask him to sleep now,” the doctor said testily.

“Of course,” Sir Maurice said.

“And I’ll stay with him until he does,” Sophie said, in a voice that brooked no opposition.

Julianne was smiling as she left the bedchamber. Sir Maurice saw her expression, and paused outside the door. “You are amused?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” she said, embarrassed. “I’m only happy that something good came from such a terrible thing, because now at least Sophie and Hammond are together again.”

“I am not sure it is such a wonderful thing,” Sophie’s mama said bitterly. “Hammond has a neat competence, but nothing to what we imagined he’d have if he was the new earl of Egremont.”

“Martha!” the squire said nervously. “Take care what you say. Hammond will likely be our son-in-law. And,” he added on a weak laugh, “I’m not at all sure it’s wise to be heard saying anything against him after that attempt on his life.”

“Very sound advice,” the runner said.

Sir Maurice added, “Sound advice, yes, Mr. Murchison. But my suspicions do not fall on my hostess. You will speak to the imposter as soon as possible?”

“I’m on my way now,” the runner said, sketched a bow, and strode down the hall to the stair.

“Too much excitement,” the squire said. “I think we’ll have a bit of a lie-down before dinner. See you
then,” he said, and escorted his wife to their own bedchamber.

“So then, it is only you and I,” Sir Maurice told Julianne. “Unless you have letters to write?”

Since that was exactly the excuse she was going to give, Julianne colored and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’m too upset at what’s happened to write a straight line.”

“Good,” he said. ‘I could do with some tea. And you?

“Oh, yes, thank you,” she said, and, taking his proffered arm, went down the stair with him, though her mind was already trying to follow the runner and imagine his conversation with Christian, if—indeed—Christian was there to have one with.

“Beg pardon?” she asked, when she realized the baronet was waiting for a reply.

He patted her hand. “I understand, this has been a stressful day. I only asked if you were looking forward to London?”

She missed a step and might have tumbled down the stairs if she hadn’t been upheld by the baronet’s surprisingly strong arm. “London?” she asked stupidly, stopping where she was to gape at him.

He clucked his tongue. “They didn’t tell you? I’m not surprised, everything is at sixes and sevens. But your cousins and I met this afternoon after the doctor pronounced Hammond out of danger. We’ve decided to remove to London, where he would be safer, as soon as he can travel. The late earl’s solicitors and bankers are there; Bow Street is there, the courts are there. So that’s where we are to be.”

“But not me,” she managed to say. “They won’t need me there.”

“Of course we do,” he said, laying his cool dry hand on hers again. “You’ll be asked to testify at some point. Don’t worry. It will be brief, and can be private. And you won’t be required to see the imposter again. The game has obviously changed, and it’s too dangerous now.”

She looked at him with all the doubt and confusion she felt.

“You were wrong, you know,” he said gently. “I didn’t want to make an issue of it, but an assassination can be very rococo. It is very like a chess game. You’re a player in the game now, my dear. The imposter obviously thinks so, too, or he wouldn’t have played on your tender sensibilities. No, don’t look guilty. I don’t blame you, your compassionate feelings do you credit. But they are not to be relied upon.

“You’re young and trusting,” he told her, his blue eyes alive in his cool, pale, expressionless face. “Utterly inexperienced with the ways of such a criminal mind. I am not. He knows you miss your brother and seek a connection to him again. For him to play upon that most natural wish is vile, but not surprising, at least not to me. I’m a man of experience and have encountered his type before. His sort of charlatan is no better than a Gypsy, and twice as dangerous because he can pass as a gentleperson. You haven’t seen his like before and so must be protected from danger. Those dangers include your own laudable sensibilities.

“Don’t be vexed with me,” he added with a sad smile. “You think I don’t know the ways of the female heart. But I do. I may not be young and handsome, but I do know.” She tried to murmur weak denials. “Please,” he said, cutting her off. “I beg you at least to think about the sense of what I’m saying, because I’ve no ulterior motives, only a wish to restore my family and ensure your safety. As for the imposter? He has everything to gain and nothing to lose. And now he’s getting desperate.

“You see,” he said, lowering his voice, though they stood in the middle of the stair and there was no one to hear them, “the end grows near. He knows it, too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have attempted such a reckless act. I can’t prove it yet, but I know he showed his hand today. So now more than ever we can’t have you influenced by such a villain. You need never see him again.”

“But surely,” she stammered, “if we go to London, so will he.”

Sir Maurice smiled. “I am counting on it. Now, shall we take our tea?”

“H
ammond is still doing well?” Julianne asked, as Sophie dressed for dinner.

Sophie beamed. “Very well, and I am, too. It took almost losing him to make me realize I didn’t ever want to lose him. Ham says that was a costly lesson, but he was willing to pay every part of it. Wasn’t that sweet?” She twirled in front of her mirror, smiling at how her leaf green gown fluttered around her. “Do you like this one? I was saving it for something special, and I want to look especially good this evening, even though I’m not dining with Ham. But I’ll be in his room the moment we’re done with our dinner.”

“It looks lovely, and I’m very happy for you,” Julianne said. “But I wonder if we could have a moment alone?” She smiled at Sophie’s maid. “I’ve something personal to discuss with my cousin,” she explained.

“You may go,” Sophie told her maid, and as the girl left, added, “My goodness, Julianne! You don’t have to ask a servant’s permission. What is it you wanted?”

“I wanted to say good-bye,” Julianne said. “I’ve packed and will be ready to leave in the morning.
Now that Hammond’s on the mend, I can go.”

“Good-bye?” Sophie asked in amazement.

“Why, yes. I’ve just heard that you’ll be going to London. My purpose here has been fulfilled. I miss my parents and want to get back to my own life. I’ll go to London if I have to testify, but now, I’m going home.”

“You’re joking, of course,” Sophie said. “You must come with us.”

“No, I mustn’t. I don’t want to.”

“Who would not want to visit London in the Season?”

“Me. I haven’t the clothes, for one thing,” Julianne said lightly, citing the only thing she’d thought her cousin might understand. She certainly couldn’t tell her she hadn’t the heart to take part anymore in this matter of the true earl of Egremont, not if she could do nothing to save Christian. The baronet had seemed sure of his destruction. A young man she’d loved had been destroyed once before, and she refused to experience such a loss again. If she couldn’t help, better to go home and try to forget. She certainly couldn’t take part in a round of merriment with the very people who would celebrate Christian’s ruin.

“You don’t need many new clothes…”

“I do if I go with you,” Julianne said on a forced laugh. “You, my dear Cousin, will be going to all the best parties, at all the right houses. Attending operas and soirees and routs and who knows what else? Besides, I’ve served my purpose, haven’t I? You invited me here to identify Christian Sauvage.”

“The man who calls himself Christian Sauvage,” her cousin said.

“Right,” Julianne said. “I met the man and can’t help you there, because I don’t know who he is. So though I’m flattered you asked, why should I go with you to London now? Invite me to your wedding, and I’ll be happy,” she added. “And please believe I am very happy for you, and not because I’m angling for the true heir to Egremont—whoever that maybe…

“See?” Julianne shook her head. “I’m doing it already, defending myself and my intentions. I can’t put a word right because the whole affair makes me uncomfortable. I hope it works out well for you, but I think I’m well out of it now. I’m ready to go home. Thank you for a lovely time, and,” she said, taking her cousin’s hand, “I do mean that.”

“I know,” Sophie said. She didn’t release her hand. “I do like you, Cousin, and so do my parents—and Hammond. In fact, he likes you so much that I was most vilely jealous of you for a while. Until, of course, I realized he didn’t like you like
that.
The point is that we all feel wretched for having used you and worse once Sir Maurice pointed out that we had. And the other thing is,” she said in a rush, “that he wants you to come with us, and we do what he asks.”

Julianne frowned. “Sir Maurice? He’s not my relative. I don’t have to do as he asks.”

“I know, but he could be your relative, and without much effort, I think.” Sophie tittered. “He’s old, but he’s not dead yet. And he’s very, very rich. Oh,
come,” she said, with an arch look, as Julianne stared at her, frowning. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“I hope not!” Julianne said in revulsion. “He’s nice to me, but you’ve got the wrong sow by the ear. I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything like that. I know I don’t!” She dragged her hand away from her cousin. “If you wanted to say something to really keep me away from London, you’ve done it. I wish you well, Sophie, but I’m going home now!”

“I don’t see why you should act so insulted,” Sophie said in annoyance. “He hasn’t a direct heir anymore, and he has a vast fortune, it would be only natural…Oh, forget I mentioned it. You’re probably right. It’s Mama who puts all these matchmaking ideas in my head. Why,” she said slyly, watching Julianne closely, “she even said she thinks you’ve fallen in love with the imposter! She believes you defend him because you’ve lost your heart to him, and I might add, she hopes that’s all you’ve lost.”

Julianne’s face grew pale.

Sophie tilted her head. “Oho,” she said. “For once Mama is right. Is that why you say you don’t know who he is? That puts the whole matter in a different light, doesn’t it?”

“That is absurd,” Julianne said, the color rushing back to her face. “And insulting. I’m very glad it’s time for me to go home.” She lifted her chin and began to march toward the door.

“So everyone can say that Mama’s right?” Sophie asked sweetly.

Julianne stopped, turned, and stared at her.

Sophie nodded. “They will, you know. Mama’s a
dear, but she gabbles, and she’ll be going a great many places in London. I hear that the case of the true identity of the earl of Egremont is already fabulous gossip there. Doubtless your part in it will be a wonderful tidbit to chew over, especially if you’re not with us. Your absence will give credence to the rumors. Why, they’ll likely even get back to your little village.”

Sophie traced an invisible circle on her vanity’s top with one finger as she spoke. “You don’t want to go to London now. I’m sorry for it. I suppose you must do as you wish. But if you don’t go, with us, you know you’ll only have to go later, as a witness, and perhaps stay even longer then. Doubtless the lawyers and Bow Street will hear the rumors, too, and they’ll want to know much more from you. I know our solicitors will.

“Sir Maurice says the imposter should be in irons before the month is out. And if it’s said that you were in sympathy, or more, with him…” Her eyes flashed as she looked up and saw Julianne flinch. “Think!” she said angrily. “Who else would profit from Hammond’s death? The imposter as much as signed his death certificate with that blow, Sir Maurice says.

“If you’re not in London with us, your reputation will be ruined,” she went on. “If you come with us, however it ends, we’ll see the matter is settled, at least for you.”

“That,” Julianne said furiously, “is blackmail!”

“I suppose it is,” Sophie said, with a shrug. “But it won’t harm you. Mama will see you have the clothes you need, and she won’t ask you to pay a cent of it. In
fact she’ll be insulted if you try. Anyway, the baronet would probably skin her if she accepted funds from you. He’s mad enough that we had you meet with the imposter alone, so he could ‘work his wiles on you,’ as he said.”

Sophie smiled. “So you see, you absolutely must come to London. And whatever you think of me now, I think one day you’ll thank me for it. This is the best thing for you, know it or not.”

“The baronet asked you to do this to me?” Julianne asked, her nostrils now as pinched as that gentleman’s on his highest ropes.

“Oh, no,” Sophie said innocently. “It’s only that he asked that you come with us, and I know what he asks is best for us. And some people need to be pushed into what’s best for them.”

And some people
, Julianne thought feverishly,
will need to be told about this as soon as possible.

She’d done it before and she could do it again, Julianne told herself firmly. They hadn’t caught her last time, and they wouldn’t this time either. She didn’t like deception, she hated feeling furtive. It wasn’t like her. But it was necessary. She hadn’t any other choice. When else could she speak to him alone, or for that matter, at all? Twist and turn as she might, she didn’t see any other course of action, and it was action that she had to take now. She’d grown up with boys, perhaps that made her braver than most women. But she was a woman now, and she thought that made her even braver still.

So Julianne rode on alone through the night again,
this time more troubled by what she didn’t see than by what she did. She stopped her horse every now and then and paused to listen for anyone following. All she heard were the innocent sounds of the night, and her own wild heartbeat. Because this time she was riding to meet a man who might be a killer as well as a swindler. Whatever he was, she wasn’t afraid of him, only for him. And she had to say good-bye to him.

She doubted she’d have another chance. She was going to London, and now she knew she was under suspicion. They suspected her allegiances, and once they heard Sophie’s story of her reluctance to go to London, they’d probably keep a watch on her. After the attack on Hammond, they’d be watching the house like hawks as well. But they weren’t just yet. She had manged to leave the house without the hint of a shadow to prevent her. She supposed it was because they were all still in shock. She knew she still was. Best then to strike while the iron was hot, and she had enough bravery born of anger to send herself out the door. Because after tonight she might not have the courage, and after tonight she might never see him again.

She didn’t know if he’d be arrested or made an earl. She couldn’t bear seeing him in chains, and if he was indeed the rightful heir, it was almost certain she could never have him for her own.

Well, there it was, she thought sadly, she’d admitted it. She cared for him. Very much. She wasn’t sure that was love, because she’d never been in love. When he touched her, she wanted more. That, she
knew, was lust. And he made her remember those good, long-gone days. That, she realized, was longing for what could never be recaptured. He made her laugh, and that she knew was what a friend ought to do, and he was certainly becoming that. But she knew he might be an imposter, and he might be playing her for a fool.

Still, she had to talk to him, tell him she’d be leaving, and let him know what the baronet had predicted. The worst they could do to her if they found out was send her home.
Well then, good
, she thought unhappily, and rode on. She supposed they could ruin her reputation, too. But although the thought pained her now, she didn’t think it would matter much later, when she was safe at home, where they would love her no matter what someone else might say she’d done.

She had a few hours until dawn. It was a clear and starry night, but the moon wasn’t full. Julianne’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the outlines of trees and make out the turns in the road. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a fiery glow of light ahead, like a grounded star before her in the night. She rode to it. The inn had a lantern over the front door that they kept lit through the night just in case some lost traveler needed a beacon.

Julianne halted her horse in front of the door. And then she sat staring stupidly at the inn sign, realizing the one thing she hadn’t thought about.

Tonight there was no tormented man standing in the swirling mists in the dooryard, miraculously looking for her. There was not one person abroad, not a
living soul stirring. Christian must be sleeping, as everyone else in the dreaming world was now. So how was she going to find him?

Well, Julianne thought, as she slipped off the horse’s back and threw the reins over the fence in front of the inn, she’d just have to, somehow. She had a vague plan of slipping into the inn, creeping up the stair, and whispering his name. Nothing else came to mind. If she was seen, let them think it was a tryst she was keeping, she thought fiercely as she went to the door. What was that to a man’s life? It was no less than that which spurred her on.

She had to see Christian immediately. The urgency of her message was what had propelled her from the house in the midst of the night, finally sending her up and out of her bed like a crab popping out of a pot of scalding water. Sophie had said the baronet had promised that Christian would be in irons before the month was out.

She reached the door, put her hand on the latch…and discovered that the door was bolted fast. The guests must all be sleeping. A prospective lodger was supposed to rouse the landlord.

There was nothing for it but to creep around the house and try the door to the kitchens. The only person who might be woken there would be the lowest kitchen servant. At any rate, she couldn’t stop now. If she did, she’d get on her horse and go back; her courage was evaporating with the dying night.

Julianne gathered up her skirt and began to walk around the inn. As she did she formed the nebulous idea of telling the kitchen wench some tales and
promising her coins for her silence and for telling which room Christian was in.

She stepped into some soft gooey muck, and grimaced. Pulling her boot free, she went on, trying to avoid the mess in the stable yard. Once on firmer ground she stealthily approached the back door.

And gasped when a gloved hand clapped over her mouth.

Julianne bit down hard and struggled as an iron hard arm locked around her waist. She was pulled back against a hard body. She kicked out for all she was worth.

“By God! A female!” a masculine voice hissed in her ear. “Ouch! Stop that! Do you want to wake the whole town?”

She stopped, though her heart was hammering so loud she could scarcely think. She was pleased to hear he was breathing as heavily as she was. And then not so pleased, as the other implications of that sank in. She tensed.

“Now then,” the voice growled in her ear. “No screaming when I take my hand away, or I swear I’ll give you such a dunt you won’t remember anything until next week.”

She nodded. The hand left her mouth. She took a deep breath, felt the body behind her tense, and then, as she remained still, relax.