Her Saving Grace (8 page)

“
Certainly, but I am more interested in finding out what happened to him, than shedding tears.”

“Of course.” He glanced at her and saw that her serene expression was once more fixed on her face, although she wouldn’t m
eet anyone’s gaze as they walked. “Forgive me, Lady Wellesley, but I can’t help but notice that you are avoiding the eye of every gentleman in here; if you don’t like dancing, why did you attend a ball?”

“These people were the last to see my father, they might know something
that can help me.”

“Even if they do
, they are hardly likely to tell you during a dance.”

“Perhaps but any small detail might help.” Her tone brooked no argument.

“I’ve made some progress,” he explained.

“Oh?” She could
hardly have sounded more disinterested if she had tried.

“Yes. I met with Marissa yesterday and she gave me some of your father
’s papers.”

Damaris stopped walking and
wrenched her hand off his arm as she turned to face him. “His papers!”

Any attempt at civility was long gone.

“Yes. She gave me a letter for you, to explain why she kept them secret but I didn’t think to bring it. Would you like me to bring it to you tomorrow?”

Anger warred with betrayal and curiosity on her features; she would be a terrible poker player.

Rather than answering, she resumed their course around the dance floor, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. He fell into step beside her.

“Keep it,” she told him. “I have no need for excuses.”

He could understand her anger to a degree; she had looked after Marissa while searching for answers, and the woman had kept secrets from her. He too would be angry, although he couldn’t argue with Marissa’s reasoning.

“I suppose Constable Smyth has them now,” she said with a trace of bitterness in
her voice.

“I still have them actually. I thought it probably best to allow Smyth to get on with his regular duties, while I investigate your father’s murder.”

The withering stare she gave him, said that she hardly thought he was any better.

The current
dance came to an end and he saw Mrs Small heading towards them with her son in tow.

“I think another fortune hunting mother is on her way to foist her progeny on you,” he said, trying to tease her into a better mood.

She muttered something under her breath, so low that he couldn’t hear her words but he had the feeling that it wasn’t very ladylike.

“Thank you for the stroll, Lady Wellesley.” He bowed to her, then to Mrs and Mr Small, before taking his leave.

Now that the dancers had thinned out, he took a turn with his mother and two married ladies of his acquaintance. He was approached quite a few times by fortune hunting parents, with their daughters in tow but unwilling to give hope where there was none, the only single ladies he danced with were his sister’s friends.

When the third break of the evening was called,
he noticed Damaris approaching her friend, Mrs Elizabeth Franklin. They were quickly joined by Mr Franklin, who Nathaniel knew socially, so he approached them.

“Franklin, it’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Copley. You know my wife, of course, and this is Lady Wellesley.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” he said, bowing to the ladies, before turning back to Franklin. “I understand that you have recently purchased some new ploughing equipment?”

“I have indeed,” he smiled. “We’re updating all the equipment, trying to streamline things.”

“Good idea. My steward has been
on at me to update our methods; father was very opposed to change, apparently.”

“Oh, you should definitely look into it.”

As they spoke, breaking away from the ladies slightly, Elizabeth and Damaris had their own hushed conversation, the former seeming to try and reason with her friend, while the latter glared at him, when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“I’ll sort something out with my steward,” Franklin said. “He knows far more about the techniques than I do and could explain them better.”

“That would be very helpful, thank you.”

The quartet of musicians resumed their seats and Franklin looked towards Damaris.

“I believe this is my dance,” he smiled at her.

Her returning smile was warm and even a little grateful. He wished that she would bestow such a sincere smile upon him.

Suddenly an impish thought occurred to him and he turned to Elizabeth.

“Are you engaged for the next set, Mrs Franklin?” Married women were rarely asked to dance
very much.

“No.” S
he smiled warmly at him.

“Then m
ay I request this dance?” He offered her his arm and she accepted without hesitation.

If he remembered correctly, the next dance was a four couple
, square cotillion, so it made sense for them to pair up with Franklin and Damaris. As was usual in this dance, he would dance with the woman opposite him as well as his partner, and Franklin would dance with his wife as well as Damaris.

They took their positions and after honouring each other, Franklin took his wife’s hand and they circled around each other, returning to their starting position. Nathaniel then took Damaris’ and they circled around each other.
He couldn’t help watching her as they danced but she tried to keep her gaze averted. The moment he did catch her eye though, she seemed unable to break the contact, even as he let go of her hand and stepped back into position.

They stood still for a moment as the other two couples in the square danced, and he felt quite captivated by her eyes; none of the
glass beads on her fine gown shone quite as well as her blue eyes did.

They joined hands with those beside them to form a
ring and did one rotation, the men then turned to their left and the women to their right, they then joined hands for half a turn, making their way in opposite directions around the circle. Still he couldn’t look away from her and as he took her hand to dance a half turn, she had a most unusual expression on her face, which if he didn’t know her so well, he might almost call vulnerable.

They repeated the dance three times over before the music ended, and Nathaniel was very sorry when it did. Finally looking to his partner
for almost the first time since the dance began, he escorted her to the side of the room again.

“Thank you, Mrs Franklin.”

“No, thank you, Lord Copley and remember,” she glanced around furtively then lowered her voice. “Her bark is always worse than her bite.”

She gave him a knowing smile and turned to her husband as he approached.

Feeling that he may have pressed his luck enough for one evening, Nathaniel bowed and then took his leave.

***

Damaris had been out of sorts ever since she learned that Nathaniel had documents from Marissa, which the other woman had kept secret from her.

It showed such disloyalty that it hurt her to even think about it, so she did
her best to forget about it completely while at the dance, and skip over Marissa’s betrayal once she was home. She was only moderately successful at both but thankfully, Lilly didn’t appear to notice.

“Did you find anything out?” Lilly asked as the carriage took them home.

“Mr Evans saw my father that afternoon; his house is on the edge of town, so it appears that he left and was waylaid between here and his London club. There are a few estates on the London road, so I’ll visit them tomorrow and see if perhaps the staff noticed him riding past. It’s unlikely but worth checking.”

“And did you enjoy yourself at all?”

Damaris shot her a look. “You know I have never taken much enjoyment in dancing.”

“You seemed to dance well with Mr Franklin.”

The smile on the other woman’s face, showed that she had noticed her apparent fascination with Lord Copley. And it was more like feeling trapped by his gaze than any interest on her part.

“He was a good partner,” she answered, unwilling to go into details of her interactions with Nathaniel.

Truth be told, she didn’t even understand her feelings while in his company; he made her feel nervous and almost frightened, although not exactly the same as fright. She knew that her senses were on high alert in his presence but she didn’t fear him, so she couldn’t understand why she was nervous or cautious around him.

Thoughts of that nature could wait however.

“Would you make me some tea when we get back,” Damaris asked. “I feel as if I am in need of a good night’s sleep.”

The tea that Lilly made at night time had special her
bs in it to help her sleep, as well as a few drops of laudanum.

“Of course dear.” Lily smiled.

Damaris undressed herself as Lilly made the tea and was sitting by her dressing table, brushing her hair out when Lilly brought her the cup, which she placed in front of her charge.

“Will there be anything else tonight?”

“No, thank you, Lilly.”

Lilly turned and left and once she had finished her 100 strokes, Damaris opened the window in her dressing room and poured the contents of the cup out, gingerly closing it again so as not to make any noise.

She then placed the cup and saucer on the table near her fire, so it appeared that she had sat there for a time, and climbed into bed. As expected, she heard her bedroom door open perhaps fifteen minutes later and Lilly came to stand by the bed.

“Sleep well, Mari,” she whispered, then Damaris heard her collect the cup and saucer on her way out.

Damaris stayed where she was for a further half an hour, then when the house was completely silent, she carefully dressed herself in the men’s clothing she kept. She wound her hair up and forced a flat cap over it to keep it in place, collected her tools, then pulled a black cloak over her attire.

She made her way down the back staircase and out into the stables at the rear of the house. As well as the carriage horses she had brought with her, the Higgins’ also kept an old nag which Mr Higgins rode when
he had duties about town, or used to pull a cart on occasion. Sadly the horse wasn’t fast but he was reliable, and Damaris quickly saddled him, apologising for the late hour, then she led him out into the street before mounting, spreading the cloak out behind her as she settled in the saddle.

She squeezed her legs together and urged
the horse forward, although a trot appeared to be his top speed. She was glad that she wasn’t riding side saddle, as a rising trot was far more comfortable than a sitting one.

When she got to the Copley estate, she pulled out her fob watch t
o check the time; it was gone one o’clock in the morning, so the entire house should be asleep. She urged the horse through the estate, keeping to the treeline so as not to be too visible and when she got close to the house, she dismounted, led the nag into the trees and tied the reins to a tree branch.

She observed the house one final time and once certain that there were no candles flickering in the windows that she could see, she ran towards the property.

She headed for the servants’ entrance, hoping that it was unlocked but her luck didn’t hold. She got a T-bar from her small tool bag then bent down to the lock. Unfortunately a cursory examination revealed that the key was still in the other side of the door, so she put her tools away and made her way around to the front of the house.

She tried the handle on the large f
ront door but it too was locked; fortunately her tools revealed that the key hadn’t been left in this door.

She put the
long bar of the T-bar into the lock, then carefully inserted the picking wire above it. It took her some time to align each lever as she was nervous, and she had to repeat lifting the first two levers twice. Finally she had them all lined up and held in place by the bar, so she gently turned it, relief washing through her as she felt the bolt being pulled back. Once done she took a deep breath, put her tools away, then stood up and turned the door handle as quietly as she could. It opened soundlessly and she slipped into the hallway, quickly closing the door behind her.

Her eyes were well adjusted to the dark by this time but she waited a few moments nonetheless, just to be certain that no one was around.
Sure that she was alone, she went into the first door she saw, opening it a fraction. It was a parlour, so she quickly closed the door and moved onto the next. As she moved deeper into the building, she found a music room, a drawing room, the ballroom, two sets of servants’ stairs, the wife’s office, two other parlours, a breakfast room and a dining room.

As she came back into the
front hallway, she was beginning to think that she would never find a library or study, when the second door that she opened on the opposite side revealed bookshelves. She opened the door wide in her haste and headed towards the desk. As she got close she could see her father’s handwriting on a pile of documents and reached for them.