The Bloodied Cravat (21 page)

“Yes, yes, go ahead,” Lady Salisbury answered impatiently. “I’ll instruct the butler to have the footmen bring out additional glasses of champagne.”

Both ladies hastened away before I could say another word. I regretted the chance to speak to Lady Crecy about Lady Ariana. I would seek her out later.

In the meantime, I watched as Lady Crecy got everyone’s attention from her position on the raised platform where the musicians played. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lord Wrayburn has an announcement to make.”

A murmur went through the crowd. I made my way towards the front in time to hear his lordship announce his engagement to Lady Crecy’s daughter, Lady Penelope. Everyone clapped politely. Lady Crecy beamed with triumph. I imagined several mothers with marriageable daughters, mentally crossing Lord Wrayburn off their list of eligible bachelors with an angry slash of their mental pencils.

Just as I accepted a very pleasing glass of champagne and drank the contents, I was surprised to see Cecily and Roger Cranworth amongst those wishing a radiant Lady Penelope the best in her forthcoming marriage.

The siblings turned after toasting the bride-to-be and walked directly into my path. I heard Cecily Cranworth say to her brother, “Why not tell everyone your own good news?”

“Miss Cranworth, Mr. Cranworth, what a pleasant surprise to see you in Town,” I greeted the pair. “I was not aware you planned a visit to London.” Or that they could travel in such exalted circles as Lady Salisbury’s ball.

Cecily Cranworth looked out of place in her country-made dress. Roger Cranworth, on the other hand, wore a fine coat and seemed at his ease.

“Good evening, Mr. Brummell. How convenient to find you here. Has her Royal Highness the Duchess of York come to London as well?” Roger asked with a smile.

“No,” I said.

“But she will,” Roger stated.

“Good!” I responded cheerfully, within an ames ace of throttling the next person who spoke to me in that familiar way regarding Freddie.

“I am happy to see you again, Mr. Brummell,” Cecily Cranworth told me.

“And I you, Miss Cranworth. You do not often come to Town,” I remarked.

“Things are different now,” she said quietly.

Roger looked at me. “After Connell’s death, I wanted to leave the countryside and enjoy London. It’s a way of easing my sorrow.”

Odd, he did not appear grief-stricken. Just the opposite. In truth, he had an air about him of renewed confidence. Almost like one who has a delicious secret they are just bursting to share. And was it not his custom to leave his sister languishing in the country while he tried to cut a dash in Town?

“Did I hear Miss Cranworth say you had something to tell everyone? Good news, I believe?” I exchanged my empty glass of champagne for that of a fresh one and raised it. “If so, I stand ready to drink to your success, whatever it may be.”

Cecily’s brown eyes sparkled. “Roger is to wed Lady Ariana.”

I trust I kept my expression bland. Roger to marry Lady Ariana? That very first night at Oatlands I had overheard Roger declare he would never marry the girl. Why the change of heart?

“Cecily,” Roger hissed at his sister, causing her to shrink from him. But when he turned his gaze to me, her chin came up in a little rebellious gesture. She had somehow changed, too.

Roger said, “As the arbiter of good taste, Mr. Brummell, I’m sure you will agree, that it can hardly be appropriate to announce the betrothal at this time. After all, Lady Ariana is in mourning for her cousin.”

Again, I felt as though Roger spoke as one newly elevated in life. He was engaged to Lady Ariana, but that could not be what was giving him his newfound superior air. Could it?

I focused my attention on Cecily Cranworth, perceiving I would get the most information out of her. “Perhaps Miss Cranworth would favour me with the next dance.”

Roger darted a glance toward the card-room. Ever the gamester, he longed to join the players. “Go ahead, Cecily. I’ll find you later. Oh, and Mr. Brummell, we’ll have to get together someday very soon. I’ll send word to you. What is your direction?”

Little puts me off faster than presumption. The words rude and encroaching crept to my tongue, but I held them at bay. I had my own reasons for furthering our acquaintance.

For that reason, I gave him the information. He flashed me a grin, then swaggered off.

I held out my arm for Miss Cranworth. “Would you rather get something to eat than dance? I confess to being rather thirsty,” I said, glancing ruefully down at the newly empty glass in my hand.

“Yes, please, Mr. Brummell.”

I retraced the steps I had made with Lady Salisbury, leading Miss Cranworth into the room where refreshments were spread on long tables. Small, round tables with chairs had been set out for couples to sit and enjoy a light repast. With the aid of a liveried footman, I obtained plates of food. Miss Cranworth and I then settled down at one of the tables.

Adopting an air of tranquility, I talked lightly of this and that until I was certain Miss Cranworth was thoroughly comfortable.

“I am glad your brother brought you to London at last. What changed his mind?” I asked, then popped a tiny
timballe
of meat and pastry into my mouth.

“Connell’s death,” she said without the slightest tinge of regret in her words.

“Lord Kendrick’s death?” I asked, perplexed. “Oh, I am sorry. I fail to see why that changed—”

“It changes everything,” Miss Cranworth said fervently, a flush rising to her cheeks.

I raised my right eyebrow.

She drank some champagne. “Ariana will have a husband. It is what I have always wanted: for Roger to marry Ariana.”

“I am happy for you, then. I do confess to being surprised at your brother’s engagement.”

Miss Cranworth swallowed a bite of poppyseed cake before answering. “I think he was surprised himself it happened so fast.” She shrugged. “It is too late now, though. When he said he would marry Ariana, it was in front of Lady Crecy, so he cannot go back on his word.”

“Do you think he wishes to retract his proposal?”

“It does not matter. They will wed. Ariana will be my sister.”

“And what of you?” I asked. “Doctor Wendell has asked me to write and let him know how you are going on in Town.”

Miss Cranworth’s lips tilted into a smile. “You need not go to the trouble. Curtis will be arriving in London at any time. It is all arranged.” She rose.

I stood. “I did not know Doctor Wendell would come to London so soon.”

“Oh, yes. Everything is going to turn out just as I planned, Mr. Brummell. You have been good, but you need not worry about me any more.”

With that mystifying remark, Miss Cranworth left me.

Lord Kendrick’s death did not seem to have had an adverse affect on either of the siblings’ lives. In fact, just the opposite was true. Miss Cranworth seemed to be supremely confident that she would wed Doctor Wendell. Had Roger’s threat of marrying her off to Squire Oxberry passed? Matters had certainly turned to Miss Cranworth’s advantage.

After Lord Kendrick’s death.

I made my way back to the ballroom. Though I looked for her, Miss Cranworth had disappeared. Her brother remained in the card room, though.

The rules and customs of Society dictated that I must dance with some of the ladies present. I could not simply arrive at a ball, conduct a few conversations, then leave without causing comment.

Thus I spent the next two hours dancing with various eligible misses. I partnered Lady Deidre, the Duke of Derehurst’s daughter, and found her singularly unconcerned about Lord Kendrick’s death. When I mentioned it, a tiny frown between her thin brows told me she had to think for a moment which one of her many admirers he had been.

I found Lady Penelope and wished her the best on her forthcoming marriage. Her fine grey eyes glowed with anticipation as she thanked me. I was happy for her.

But it was her mother whom I particularly wished to speak with before I took my leave of Lady Salisbury. I had to wait quite a while before I could extract Lady Crecy from where she held a group of older matrons enthralled in conversation. No doubt she was describing every step she had taken to secure Lord Wrayburn for her daughter.

Holding a glass of champagne high, I caught Lady Crecy’s gaze and she came to me. “Oh, dear Mr. Brummell, this is the most wonderful night of my life.”

“Take this then and drink to your daughter’s future as a countess.”

She tittered. “You know I should not, I have drunk so many glasses already.”

“You deserve to celebrate tonight.” I pressed the glass into her hand. “Tell me, how does your other charge go on?”

She accepted the glass and looked at me. “Lady Ariana?”

“Yes. I understand you kindly opened your home to her after her tragic loss.”

“Yes. The poor girl had nowhere else to go. My maid, Marcelline—an excellent creature, I assure you—has been looking after her. Lady Ariana will not go about, of course, as she is in mourning, but the girl is happy enough to have Cecily and Roger visiting her.”

“With Roger Cranworth’s visits being the most welcome,” I ventured.

Lady Crecy’s grey curls bounced in excitement. “I should have known that you, Mr. Brummell, would not miss a thing! The two are engaged. That will all work out most satisfactorily. I cannot help but feel Lady Ariana could have looked higher for a husband, but under the circumstances, it is for the best.”

“Curious, that. I never noticed any partiality on Mr. Cranworth’s part towards Lady Ariana during our stay at Oatlands,” I said in a contemplative tone. “You are very observant yourself, Lady Crecy, and may have been aware of something I was not. I am afraid my thoughts on the betrothal have not been ... charitable in regard to Mr. Cranworth.”

Just as I had hoped, Lady Crecy could not resist this lure. “Well,” she confided, “I did not see anything at all between them until after Lady Ariana’s cousin, uh, um, oh dear—”

“Died?”

“Exactly,” the older woman agreed, the word “murdered” evidently absent from her vocabulary. “I must say, Mr. Brummell, that I have wondered if Mr. Cranworth believes that the title and the estates will now pass through Lady Ariana. That would make any son of their marriage a marquess.”

“Roger Cranworth knows that for a certainty?”

Lady Crecy shook her head. “That is the problem. I do not think he does. But his sort, you know, handsome, dashing, reckless—”

“In need of money.”

“No doubt of it.” Lady Crecy lowered her voice to a whisper, causing me to incline my head toward her. “I fear Mr. Cranworth is making the biggest gamble of his life, assuming that Lady Ariana will inherit. Presently, there is a band of solicitors going over the original papers creating the title to see how the inheritance passes.”

“Surely, though, even if the papers did not specify male heirs only, a trustee would be set up. If Mr. Cranworth were hoping for Lord Kendrick’s money and property, he would have to deal with them.”

“That is precisely what that man from Bow Street said when he came to the house earlier.”

“Mr. Lavender?” I exclaimed in a voice louder than I had intended.

“Yes, that was his name.”

“Did he question Lady Ariana?”

“He did, but the girl is rather scatterbrained, if I do say so. She only talked about her engagement, no matter what Mr. Lavender said. I think she thought he was from Bond Street, instead of Bow Street, as she kept asking him about the shops.”

I held back a smile. I could imagine the child-like Lady Ariana weaving rosy dreams of her wedding dress, and the bluff Scotsman trying in vain to sort out facts which would lead him to a murderer.

“Where are the Cranworths staying?”

“Curzon Street. They took rooms above a confectioner’s. Hardly appropriate for a gentleman engaged to Lady Ariana, but what could he expect to find in the middle of the Season?” Lady Crecy said.

“Indeed.”

Our conversation at an end, Lady Crecy was called back to her group of friends. I bowed to her and secured permission to pay a visit to Lady Ariana.

I took my leave of the ball shortly thereafter. Ned and Ted carried me in my sedan-chair through the lamplit Mayfair streets. Inside the luxurious chair, I contemplated various possibilities.

First I imagined Lady Ariana absent-mindedly taking one of Freddie’s sharp jet hair ornaments. On the morning of the marquess’s murder, Lord Kendrick and Lady Ariana would have been once again near the ornamental pool, arguing. The marquess repeated his threat to have his cousin clapped into a lunatic asylum. This time, Lady Ariana takes the length of jet and plunges it into Lord Kendrick’s neck. Perhaps when the girl had shot that arrow into her cousin’s back it had not been an accident after all.

Possible. The girl was unbalanced. 

Then there were the Cranworths. Miss Cranworth hated Lord Kendrick. That had been made clear the night he forced his kisses upon her. They had been childhood friends at one time, secretly promised to one another. Even though Roger Cranworth refused to accept it, everything had changed when Connell had come into the title. Miss Cranworth could just as easily have found the hair ornaments in the drawing room. Perhaps she had seen Lord Kendrick go out for a morning stroll—or more likely, a late night stroll— and followed him.

 Hmmm. That just did not seem right. I did not feel Miss Cranworth could carry out such a deed unless ... unless, she had a partner. Someone who would know precisely where to stab the sharp jet into the victim’s neck. Someone loyal, like Doctor Wendell, who so wanted to free the woman he loved from the possibility of marrying the contemptible marquess.

Then there was Roger Cranworth. Out of the suspects I considered him to be the one whose character would most run to drastic measures. He was reckless, a bully, and underneath his boyish good-looks, he was a conniver of the first order. He was angry that the marquess would not marry his sister. Freddie had reported hearing the two men quarrel in the drawing room at Oatlands. There was the issue of a possible breach of promise suit. There was that cryptic remark Lord Kendrick made about how if Roger put up a fuss or went against him in any matter, the marquess would go to Squire Oxberry. Freddie had repeated the conversation to me. It followed then that the marquess felt he had some sort of hold over Roger. What that was, I did not know. Where had Roger been when Lord Kendrick had been murdered? And what of his reaction at the make-shift grave?
“I never thought that smirk could be wiped from his face.”
That is what Roger had said.