How to Beguile a Beauty (25 page)

Lydia thought she could piece things together from there. “So, once he saw your father was back at Malvern, he came to the inn where Tanner always stays, somehow got you to meet him…”

“I saw him several times. When I picked the wildflowers, and again later that day. That's when we arranged for me to sneak outside after midnight. I told him again, I would not give him the key. I told him Tanner would not ask for my hand, that he loved you, and that we had to leave together, just the way he'd promised. That very night. And that's…that's when he admitted that he'd never loved me. He said the only way he could bed me at all was to pretend he was shoving one of his socks in my mouth to stop my incessant talking.”

Lydia bit her bottom lip between her teeth. “That was
very mean of him. You…you don't have to tell me all this if you don't want to. It's very…personal.”

“Oh, but I feel better, telling someone. He also said that I was silly, and stupid, and how could I believe he was interested in more than the Malvern Pride. And then, when I flung myself against him, begging him to tell me he still loved me, he pushed me away. He slapped me. It hurt very much, but not…not as much as my breaking heart.”

“I'm so sorry, Jasmine.” So young, so beautiful…and so very gullible. Bruce Beattie should be horsewhipped, and Thomas Harburton, as well!

“I was such a fool, Lydia, and now I'm ruined. Forever. But I didn't want him to hit me again, you can understand that, can't you? I…I gave him the key to the French doors in Tanner's study.”

Lydia sprung to her feet, panic in her heart. Bruce Beattie, clearly a very bad man, a very desperate man, had a key to Tanner's study. “We have to tell Tanner, Jasmine, the moment he arrives. You do know that, don't you?”

Again, the girl nodded, then blew her nose noisily. “I may be ruined, but at least I saved Papa. He may not be the best of papas, and now he'll go to gaol for what he's done if Tanner won't forgive him. But at least I've saved him.”

Lydia turned to look at her in question. “Excuse me? You
saved
your father? From what? From Bruce Beattie? Is that what you're saying?”

Jasmine wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Yes, of course. Last night, B-Bruce said if I didn't give him
the key right then and there, he would kill Papa, just to prove that he meant what he said when he said he wanted the key. You remember, Lydia? I asked you if you gave someone what they wanted if you thought that someone still would do something they said they would do if you didn't do what they wanted? Because once they had what they wanted, they wouldn't need to do what they'd said they'd do? And you said they probably wouldn't. So I did the right thing. Finally.”

Lydia's breath caught in her throat. Is that what that nonsense had been about last night? But the girl prattled on so all the time—who could listen to it all, let alone give any of it any credence?

Then another even more distressing thought hit her. Tanner had said the body belonged to one of his estate workers. Thomas Harburton was the Malvern estate manager.
Oh, God
…

Jasmine got to her feet, still dabbing at her eyes. “I…I should probably instruct Mildred not to unpack my things, shouldn't I? Once you tell Tanner what I've done, Papa and I will have to leave. You don't mind telling him, do you? I just couldn't face him with such a…a tawdry story. I…I just couldn't bear anything more. I can only hope he'll forgive Papa and me enough to simply let us go.”

“Jasmine, dearest, please wait. Tanner will be here at any moment. I think…I'm certain he'll want to talk to you.”

But Jasmine shook her head and kept on toward the doorway, clearly eager to be gone before Tanner arrived.

She was to be thwarted in her attempt, however, for just then Tanner appeared in the foyer, and called her name.

Lydia stayed where she was, already certain she knew what he would be saying to his cousin. Her fingertips pressed to her lips, hurting for the girl, she watched as Tanner put his hands on Jasmine's slim shoulders and spoke to her quietly.

She had a sudden remembrance of the day he had come to Grosvenor Square, to tell them all about Fitz. How unfair that he had to once again be the bearer of such sad news. Her heart ached for him.

Jasmine cried out once, before falling forward against Tanner's chest in a faint.

He looked in at Lydia, his expression one of sorrow, but also something else she could not define. Perhaps some sort of fierce protectiveness for all of them, born of Thomas's murder. She got to her feet, to go to him, to help him with Jasmine, but he shook his head as if to tell her to remain where she was.

She watched, feeling helpless, wishing she did not have to tell him what she must tell him, as he lifted Jasmine in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

“S
O
?”

Justin removed the jeweler's loupe from his eye and tossed the necklace to Tanner, who snatched it out of the air. “Pretty glass, I'm afraid. Your cousin had been a very busy man.”

Tanner stared at the stones for long moments before letting the necklace slide onto the blotter of his desk, and then got to his feet. “You know, I never even looked at the jewels since my father died, hadn't seen them worn since my mother died, and she didn't wear them often, except for the Malvern Pride. I do remember thinking in passing that they could have been hidden better, protected better, but as they'd been safe behind that portrait all these years…”

“Safe from everyone save your cousin, according to what Lydia told us. How is she, by the way?”

“She's Lydia. Calm, at least outwardly. I know she has more to tell me, but other than to say that Jasmine told her Thomas had been replacing stones in the Malvern collection and that might be why he was killed, she said she felt it necessary that Jasmine tell me the
rest. She's with her now, attempting to convince her to speak to me.”

“To us.”

“No, Justin, I don't think so. Whatever Jasmine has to tell me, I doubt she'll say it in front of an audience.”

“Oh, so now I'm relegated to an audience? I'm cut to the quick, truly.” But then he smiled. “Very well, it isn't as if I'll be left at loose ends, will I? It would appear I have a perimeter to set up before dark, and armed sentries to position discreetly near every doorway, since we don't know when our killer may come calling. You go see to Lydia. Outwardly calm or not, I'm sure she needs you.”

“You don't have to do that, you know. Although, from the look on your face, I think you plan to enjoy it.”

“The hint of danger? I'm half alive without it, unfortunately. I might have, in a moment of madness, believed differently, but I should never have made her happy. She chose the right man.”

Tanner watched his friend leave the room, on his way to round up footmen and grooms and farm workers and whoever else he could find, and station them around the large structure for the night. It wasn't something they could continue indefinitely, turning Malvern into an armed camp. But for tonight, this was the best they could do.

He got to his feet slowly, feeling as if he'd aged a decade in the past four hours, and went in search of Lydia, finally running her to ground in her own chamber.

“You may go, Sarah, thank you,” she said quietly as she looked at him, and the maid curtsied, then scurried out of the room. The moment the door to the dressing room closed behind the woman, Lydia was in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest, and he was holding her tightly, with no intention of ever letting her go.

But eventually he had to, and she looked up at him with tears standing in her lovely blue eyes. “I'm so sorry about your cousin, Tanner.”

“He was a thief,” he said, the words still difficult to say, even more difficult to believe. “A gambler and a thief. He stole from his own family. I won't say I ever liked the man overmuch, but I'm finding it hard to see him as other than my cousin. Lazy, and yet ambitious. Prone to whine and wheedle and play on his old injury, granted, and forever pushing a match between Jasmine and me.” He shook his head as he led Lydia over to a chair beside the fire and pulled her down onto his lap. “But a thief? No.”

“Jasmine says it's true,” Lydia reminded him as she stroked his cheek, pressed a kiss against his forehead. “He felt forced to it, because of his gambling debts.”

“And that bothers me more. I even asked Roswell about it, and he was as surprised as I was. Thomas never left the estate except to go to the village from time to time, and that during the day, on estate business. When did he have the opportunity to gamble to such excess?”

“Jasmine said he would disappear for days at a time.”

“Yes, I believe I heard that from Justin as well
because she'd told him the same thing. But Roswell denies that, too. Something's wrong, Lydia. I don't know what it is, but something is wrong.”

Lydia sighed, and put her cheek against his chest once more. “I'm going to say something terrible now, Tanner. And I'm ashamed of myself, because she just lost her father to a murderer. But…well, I wouldn't believe Jasmine if she told me the sky was blue.”

Tanner put his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him so that he could look at her. “I'm listening—and I don't think you said anything terrible.”

“It's…it's that nothing she said to me today made any sense, not when I had a few moments to step back and truly
look
at what she said. It's just that she talks so much, and you get so weary of listening to her that you really don't listen, not for long. She lies so easily, Tanner. Even Nicole couldn't fib that well, and I always thought her extremely proficient at it. Why, she fooled our Aunt Emmaline and Rafe into thinking that each was at Ashurst with us when we actually were totally without a chaperone. For
months
, Tanner, until Charlotte finally found her out by accident. And she looked me straight in the eye and told me there were no more sugared buns, when she'd had one hidden in her reticule all along. Jasmine, that is, not Nicole.”

“You don't mind if I try to sort all of that out later? What lies do you think Jasmine told you this afternoon?”

“But that's the problem. With Jasmine, how can a person be sure? Truthfully I think she's told so many
different lies in just the last two days that she's now confused herself, figuratively tripping over her own tongue. She…she doesn't have the ring of innocence about her, and I may feel terrible saying that, but it must be said. If I were to believe anything she's said, I would have to believe what she told me about…her lover. I saw the note from him in her reticule, ashamed as I am to admit that I snooped, and I saw the mark on her face where he'd hit her. We all saw that.”

“My cousin has a lover? Really?” Tanner held up a hand to stop Lydia from saying more, and then asked her to please go back to the beginning, and tell him everything she thought important. He never interrupted, never asked for more detail, until she at last told him the name of Jasmine's lover.

“Bruce Beattie? No, that's not possible,” he told her, smiling. “We need to mark that down as another of her lies.”

“But I told you, I saw the note where he asked her for the key to the French doors in your study. He signed it with his initial. He…he had very good penmanship.”

“I won't comment on the penmanship. However, darling, Bruce Beattie is seventy if he's a day, and I doubt if even Mrs. Beattie considers him a wonderful lover. I think he lost his last tooth ten years ago.”

Lydia sat very still, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, but each breath seemingly deeper, more agitated. “And
that
is the very last straw!” she said finally, just before hopping down off his lap and holding out her hand. “Are you coming with me?”

He got to his feet, loving the color in her face, the bright sparkle in her eyes. “I'd have to kick myself down the stairs if I said no,” he told her, and allowed her to lead him into the hallway and across the corridor to Jasmine's bedchamber. “Allow me,” he said, stepping past her to depress the lever and push open the door.

Lydia brushed past him without thanking him—a sure sign of her temper he believed, and one he might be prudent to note for future reference if he were ever stupid enough to provoke her out of her usual serenity.

Jasmine was seated in the middle of her bed, a silver tray on her knees, a forkful of cake frozen halfway to her mouth. “Lydia? Tanner? Is something wrong? Please say there is no more bad news. I vow, I couldn't survive anything else.”

Lydia walked as she spoke, not stopping until she was standing beside the bed. “Not without a plate piled high with strawberry tarts or some such thing to bolster your courage, no, I suppose not. Give me that!”

Tanner watched as the fork was ripped from his cousin's hand just before the tray was lifted and unceremoniously handed to him.

“Here, put this somewhere. Jasmine—get out of that bed.”

But Jasmine had pulled the covers up to her chin and was seemingly intent on plastering herself against the pillows. “No. You're scaring me. My papa is dead.
Murdered
. I have been grieving all afternoon. How can you be so mean to me?”

“I'm counting, Jasmine,” Lydia said, hands on hips.
“One…two…you don't want me to get to three, you really don't.”

The covers were flung back and Tanner caught a glimpse of his cousin's legs, bared to the knee, as she slipped off the mattress and landed feet-first on the floor, nearly falling.

“You'd have made a good Sergeant major, darling,” he said softly, but when Lydia turned and glared at him, he managed to control his smile before backing up two paces.

“Who is your lover?” she asked Jasmine flatly, clearly not in the mood to tread carefully on the girl's recently bereaved sensibilities.

“But—but that was to be our secret. You
promised
.” Jasmine's gaze shifted to Tanner. “She told you the name?”

“Schoolmaster Beattie, yes. As I have a healthy regard for my neck, I'm doing my best not to interfere, but I have to tell you that I don't think she believes you any more.”

As if her last hope was gone with his defection, Jasmine buried her face in her hands and sobbed piteously.

Well, he'd thought it was piteously. Lydia didn't seem much impressed.

“Jasmine, your Bru—your lover probably murdered your father. We'll have his name,
now
.”

“I know,” Jasmine whimpered. “I know, I know. And it's all my fault, isn't it?”

“No, Jasmine, sweetheart, you couldn't have known what—” Tanner held up his hands in mock surrender
when Lydia turned on him, and backed up another pace. Clearly the love of his life had been pushed beyond all endurance.

“His name, and his location. You were in bed with him. You know where he resides.”

“In bed with him? You make it all sound so tawdry. I
loved
him…”

At last Lydia looked at Tanner with more than cold purpose in her eyes. Confronting Jasmine, in her recent bereavement, was not easy for her. She sighed, as if in resignation, and gathered the weeping girl into her arms. “It's all right, Jasmine. Nobody blames you for anything that happened. You were foolish, yes, but this man, this unscrupulous scoundrel, could come here now, could cause us all terrible trouble. Please, help us.”

Jasmine lifted her tear-drenched face and looked at Tanner, her eyes wide. “Me? He could come here for me? He could…he could want to
kill
me?”

Tanner shrugged his shoulders, believing Lydia had found the way to get through to his cousin. If there was one thing in life Jasmine cared about, he was coming to realize, it was Jasmine. “It's possible. You know who he is.”

“Oh, my God! He'll kill me, won't he? Because I know who he is. No, no, I don't want to die! Tanner, you have to help me. You have to find him, and kill him before he kills us!”

 

“Tell me again,” Justin said as they stood hidden in the dense trees outside the small tavern in near Malvern Wells.

“I've already told you,” Tanner said, peering through the branches, taking his measure of the place. It was half-past midnight.

“True. But I don't think I'll ever tire of hearing it. Wrung every last bit of information from her, did she? And all the sordid details? Tell me again about the sordid details.”

“Another time,” Tanner said, shaking his head. “How do you want to do this? He knows what we look like, which was probably why he showed me his face in the first place, so we can't just go walking in there. Jasmine swears he's alone, but Lydia warned me not to believe that. She's still suspicious of Jasmine.”

“And if your beloved is suspicious, you're suspicious, and so am I. Why are we suspicious, hmm?”

“Because Lydia wouldn't believe Jasmine if she told her the sky was blue. And something about sugared buns, but we didn't have time to get into that. Well, damn, Justin, there he is. And he's alone. That makes things easier. I thought we might be here all night.”

The baron, who had been standing with his back to a tree trunk, an unlit cheroot between his teeth, turned and peered into the clearing in front of the tavern. “And he's had a miracle, hasn't he? Heaven be praised, his sight has been restored.”

Tanner watched Brice Flanagan walk out of the tavern, cautiously looking about the area with his two good eyes as he mounted the horse they'd already recognized as belonging to the man.

Without speaking again, each knowing what the
other had concluded, Tanner and Justin hurried back through the trees to where their own horses were waiting. Flanagan could have mates inside the tavern who could come to his defense. Much easier to take him on the road.

They followed at a safe distance for over a mile, Flanagan's familiarity with the road as easy as Tanner's.

“He's heading for Malvern,” Justin whispered at last, unnecessarily. “Cheeky thing, isn't he?”

“Desperate is more like it,” Tanner returned just as quietly. “He had to know that Jasmine would turn on him at some point. Are you ready?”

“I don't know. I almost wish to see what he's up to, don't you?”

Tanner considered this for a few moments. Was Flanagan on his way to the estate in some last bold attempt to find the Malvern Pride, that hadn't been among the stolen jewels, according to Jasmine? Was he going there to collect Jasmine, his lover? Or, yes, to kill her…

“All right,” he said at last, as they slowed their horses, no longer needing to be too close to Flanagan. “I admit to some curiosity of my own. Why chance capture for the Malvern Pride? He's got the rest, he's got all of the real jewelry, enough to live handsomely on the rest of his life, damn him. Besides, nobody knows where the Pride is, remember? That's why he'd demanded the key from Jasmine, in order to conduct his own search.”