His Perfect Bride (21 page)

Chapter 13

Richard sighed in frustration. Nothing was going according to plan. A week passed since the fire and break-in, yet they had not made any progress finding the culprit. The only information they discovered was some of the staff recently hired, both at his home and the club, were working for someone else. Their failure to return to their posts following the attack offered a clear indication of which staff members were involved.

Jonathan remained convinced it was Kirkwood, but without proof, they could not approach him. Through this ordeal, no one had been affected more than Greyson. He ran himself ragged spending all his days and nights at the club. The culprit clearly intended to return, considering the stolen key, and the fact didn’t sit well with any of them. Although the door locks were changed, Greyson determined to catch them or, at the very least, prevent a reoccurrence. Richard knew his friend held himself responsible for the break-in. Greyson even went as far as to offer to make reparations using his personal funds, to which Richard and Jonathan refused.

As if Richard didn’t have enough to worry about, his solicitor had requested his presence yesterday with more grievances from Stonemede. The estate was too large for the steward to handle alone considering his lack of experience. Discovering a solution to petty complaints from the tenants went beyond the man’s capabilities.

Richard rubbed his temples. He needed to quickly fix the problems here so he could return to Stonemede, but that thought only raised another problem: Brianna. After giving her a week to settle on an answer, he expected some type of communication from her at least hinting at her choice.

Without having an opportunity to speak with her since the night he presented his suit, his patience wore thin. On the rare occasion he spotted her, she never approached him and hardly ever made eye contact. Elizabeth too offered him no help, since Brianna appeared to be avoiding her as well.

Richard stood, for he could handle this no more. The need for a distraction overwhelmed him. Without a word to Hopkins, he stalked out of his study, grabbed his greatcoat, and pushed open the door. Stepping out into the rain, he allowed the sensation of the cold wet droplets to help ease his frustration.

When he could not take it any longer, he swung his coat over his shoulders and made his way down the steps. There was no intended destination. He had no desire to be seen by his friends and questioned about his miserable state. Coming to a crossroad, he made a quick decision and turned toward Barton’s.

The walk was short, and soon he stepped through the double doors, grateful to be out of the rain. Richard felt comforted by the sight before him. Men congregated about around card tables or were seated quietly conversing. The sound of chatter, clinking of glasses, and shuffling of cards was a familiar and welcoming diversion. Richard’s muscles relaxed, for he had nothing to fear in this setting.

After ridding himself of his soaking coat, he found an open table and joined in. His opponents were a jolly bunch, and he happily lost himself within the game.

Hours later, Richard found himself content. He sat at a lone table near the back of the club, sipping brandy. The quality paled in comparison to what he was accustomed to, but after the third glass, he could no longer tell the difference. In addition, his pockets were slightly heavier with his winnings. It certainly was no fortune, and honestly Greyson would have been embarrassed by his performance, but Richard was pleased to leave the tables after earning a profit.

“Stonemede, I didn’t expect to see you here,” the unwelcome voice of Kirkwood came from behind him.

“Why not? I hold memberships to multiple clubs.” Due to the brandy, he allowed too much satisfaction to shine through his statement. He actually held memberships to all the popular clubs, as he and his friends deemed it necessary to keep up with the doings of the competition.

“I would have thought you were the type of man who fixes his own problems, not delegates them out to servants or other hired help. Considering the problems you are having, you should not be here enjoying yourself,” he rebuked, venom dripping from every word.

“On the contrary, I believe this is a perfect time to go out and enjoy myself. If you allow every small problem to remove your enjoyment from life, you will forever be bitter and unhappy.”

“From what I heard, you and your club sustained more than a small problem.”

“That all depends on how you look at it.” Richard eyed Kirkwood closely. His face burned bright red, and his hands were balled into fists. Under Richard’s scrutiny, he appeared to be trying to control his temper, but his attempt at a smile was not successful.

“In the name of enjoyment, would you care to play a round of cards?” Kirkwood’s eyes gleamed as he motioned to the deck on the table.

Richard was not a fool, and he knew his skills at cards could not compare to that of Kirkwood’s. Although an active member of the clubs, he had never become as proficient at cards as Greyson. It had not been necessary for him to spend his time in that way, and the idea of gaining or losing everything in one moment never appealed to him.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have already exceeded my allotted time here.” Richard swallowed his last shot of brandy and stood. “I imagine I’ll see you around.”

“I never took you for a coward,” Kirkwood pressed, and Richard froze. Knowing Kirkwood only wanted to force him into a game didn’t make refusing the challenge any easier. Without responding to the bait, Richard flexed his tight fingers and continued his walk to the exit. Considering the amount of spirits he consumed, it took every ounce of control he possessed to pull himself through the door and away from Kirkwood.

Ravenhurst was not far from him, so he decided to try to encourage Greyson to quit the place for now and join him. If he was left to his own devices, the idea of returning to Barton’s may once again become favorable. Given another opportunity, he didn’t believe he would refuse the overwhelming desire to maim Kirkwood.

Entering the club, he noticed Nathanial absent from his normal post. Although other members of the staff were present, the customary guard Greyson insisted upon remained missing. Strange, it was not typical of his friend to forget something. Something was definitely wrong.

Stalking to the back of the club, Richard ignored calls for him to join in with other guests. He didn’t stop until he arrived in front of the office. After discovering the door locked, he knocked.

The door burst open and before him stood Greyson, appearing quite agitated. His hair was askew, his clothes wrinkled, and his eyes were wild. In all the years Richard had known Greyson, he never witnessed him in such a state. The urge to stare openmouthed was undeniable.

“What is going on?” Richard demanded, trying to mask the shock in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t know it was you. Come in.”

Greyson turned and went back into the room without waiting for a response. Richard hesitated a moment before following his friend. There were two other occupants, Nathaniel and another man, neither looking at ease. Nathaniel waited in the back of the room, warily eyeing the other man.

“Greyson, could you join me in the other office?” Richard asked in a casual tone.

Greyson opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded. There was no doubt he didn’t wish to comply, but he followed Richard regardless. Once they were closed in the office, Richard turned to his friend.

“What is going on?” Richard asked again.

“The man you saw in the other room is a former employee named Martin. He was one of the men involved with the break-in.”

“Are you sure? How did you find him?”

“I put the word out that I was looking to purchase our type of brandy without using the proper channels. He contacted me through my man, and once I was sure the bottle once belonged to us, it didn’t take much to get him to confess.”

“You didn’t think to include anyone else in your plan? Jonathan or I would have been more than willing to help.”

“I didn’t want to involve you until I had something to report. The chances of success were slim, for I didn’t expect to hear a response, especially so soon.”

“That does not matter. You should have told us.”

“This is my problem to fix,” Greyson spat bitterly.

“How is this your problem alone? As I recall, you only own one third of the club, and therefore one third of the difficulties.”

“I solely took on the responsibility to hire the staff. They were all approved by me, making the fault mine. It’s only natural for the resolution to fall to me as well.”

“That is nonsense, Greyson, and you know it. No one is to blame, and we will all do our parts to discover the culprit. Agreed?”

Greyson wordlessly stared at Richard. His cold emotionless eyes told Richard his friend didn’t hear one word uttered. Greyson’s stubbornness and self-reliance had gotten him far, but Richard would not sit back and allow his friend to drive himself mad over this.

“What is the next step?” Richard demanded.

“There isn’t one,” Greyson countered with narrowed eyes. “Nathaniel and I have questioned Martin thoroughly, and we have nothing. Whoever hired him was smart and used a middleman.”

“Then we take Martin back to the place he met the middleman. Once we have an identification, we can take it from there. We will receive answers from someone higher up.”

“I’m not certain Martin would recognize him.” Greyson walked over to the cabinet and poured himself a glass of brandy. He raised his eyebrows in question, but Richard declined. He had consumed enough today.

“Why not?”

“Martin continually insisted it was dark. The only knowledge we ascertained was the middleman did not appear to be a typical thief. Martin claimed the man acted uncomfortably in the surroundings, and his clothing had a finer quality than you would expect in such an establishment.”

“Do you think he is under Kirkwood’s employ?” Richard’s hands involuntarily made fists at the reminder of the insults he suffered only moments before.

“I would say it’s a likely possibility, but, as I discovered, it’s not easy to prove.”

“Then we let Martin loose and see where he goes. If he is lying, he will immediately report to his boss. If not, he is useless, and we let him go.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Grey
son agreed, sounding more like himself.

“Now that this is settled for the moment, you need to go home and get some rest.”

“Why? I have been perfectly comfortable sleeping here.”

“There is no reason for you to do so. Anyway, I would like you well rested because you and I are attending Lady Laramie’s ball tomorrow night.”

Brianna gazed out the window of the drawing room. Such a lovely day, and she hated being forced inside for so much of it. The medicine Madam Hershal gave her worked wonderfully, and she longed to enjoy her new pain-free days. Martha also remarked on how improved Brianna had become, and her worry appeared to be satisfied. Brianna still didn’t know how or when to tell Richard of the baby, but she knew the time quickly approached.

Peering at the clock, she was happy to see their obligatory time for the At Home would soon be passing. With the lack of activity, Brianna looked around at the faces expecting to see her boredom mirrored, but she was wrong. Her mother calmly sewed, and Elizabeth had her eyes fastened to the door. She was smiling and fidgeting in a nervous manner. There was no doubt in Brianna’s mind Richard’s sister expected someone and, from her behavior, it was not a lady.

Allowing curiosity to propel her, Brianna stood and crossed the room to sit beside Elizabeth.

“I simply hate these things. What about you?” Brianna inquired.

“I don’t mind them.” Elizabeth cast her eyes downward.

“Since we have yet to have visitors, would you care to see if Mother would allow us to leave early? I long for some sunshine.”

“No,” Elizabeth proclaimed before Brianna had a chance to close her mouth. Then she seemed to calm herself. “As lovely as that sounds, it would not be proper for us to leave too soon.”

“Are you expecting someone?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she lightly bit her lower lip. Pleased she had guessed right, Brianna sat back and studied her friend’s reaction. Knowing how badly Elizabeth wanted to be in London for the Season, Brianna was pleased the girl made progress in her husband search. A pang of guilt assaulted her as she thought about how her own problems prevented her from being a good companion.

“What makes you believe that?” Elizabeth asked as her eyes rounded in innocence.

“Your preoccupation with the door as well as your uneasiness is a clear indication. Now, tell me. Which gentleman has earned your favor?”

Elizabeth’s gaze shot around the room before she leaned forward to whisper. “I would prefer your mother not know in case he does not appear. His name is Lord John Knox, Viscount Winsler. We shared several dances over the past week, and he asked to call upon me today. I’m feeling more apprehensive at each passing minute. I fear he will not come.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure he has only been momentarily detained.”

“I do hope you are correct. I would enjoy seeing him again.”

“He sure made quite an impression on you with only a few dances,” Brianna remarked, tilting her head slightly. “Is there something more you have not shared?”

“We did take a walk through the garden at Lord Gremish’s ball. It was very lovely.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Brianna!” Elizabeth gasped. “Your mother will hear you.”

“Our voices are too low. In addition, she isn’t paying us any mind. If you don’t tell me, I’ll only assume your blush means it was much more than a simple kiss.”

Elizabeth’s quick intake of breath coupled with her hand flying to her chest nearly made Brianna laugh out loud. Considering her reaction, Brianna wondered what Elizabeth would think about her first meeting with Richard. She imagined the girl would faint from shock.