Lord Scoundrel Dies (2 page)

‘He caught his cuff in my hair and it took a
moment to untangle it. I was surprised and… and I didn’t realise
that he had undone the clasp on the necklace. I don’t know why I
didn’t feel it –’

‘I daresay it was the kiss. Did he kiss you
again, after you had been released?’

‘Honestly Harry, I do wish you would let me
finish! If you are going to interrupt every time I say anything
this is going to take all morning. And believe me, the less time
everything takes, the better. I live in dread that Papa is going to
discover that the necklace is gone.’

‘You removed it from the strongbox in your
mother’s dressing room, I assume? Surely he has no reason to look
in there.’

‘None that I can think of. But who knows,
perhaps he takes a peek in there on a regular basis. Or Mama might
do so, just to admire it. The elderly do such curious things. Look
at the way they insist on locking up all the really good pieces. As
if I shouldn’t wear the necklace now. Why do I have to wait when it
will come to me anyway?’

Harry ignored all this. She had already
heard it and was not sympathetic. Her cousin’s interest in the
showier pieces of the Astley jewels was incomprehensible but then,
Harry wasn’t really interested in shiny things.

‘You’re a goose, Sarah. All of this because
of that other goose Caroline.’

‘Kindly do not compare me
to that female,’ Sarah scowled, referring to her arch nemesis and
rival, Caroline French. ‘It’s all her fault anyway. She has
enormous diamonds that she likes to dangle before my face whenever
the opportunity presents itself. Her parents don’t give a fig
what
she
wears.
Just for once, I wanted to show her that I have jewels every bit as
marvelous.’

‘Good Lord.’ Harry flopped back onto her
cousin’s bed and sighed. Sarah and Caroline French had been
competing with each other since before either of them was out of
the schoolroom and they would probably be competing on their
deathbeds. They had been presented on the same day, had their first
dance at Almack’s on the same night and vied with each other to
secure the attentions of the same men. It was ridiculous but Harry
could see how it had come about for all she thought the whole thing
absurd.

‘Please help me Harry,’ Sarah pleaded. ‘You
can do it. You’re always getting into scraps and then getting out
of them.’

‘Not always, unfortunately.
There is a reason why Mama has sent me to Aunt Margaret,’ Harry
reminded her. ‘To make me into a proper lady instead of an
insensible hoyden. As if
that’s
ever going to happen.’

Sarah regarded her cousin
with judicious eyes and thought that the girl rather had a point.
Harry was simply not designed for Polite Society. She meant well,
but regularly put her foot into it when out and about by pointing
out the foibles of others when it was best to remain silent, or
talking with the most unsuitable people, or disappearing when she
shouldn’t. She was usually to be found chasing dogs and children
around the garden, having a marvelous time. Truthfully, Harriet
Honeywood was simply not comfortable when she was forced to deal
with the censorious
ton
and had been chaffing, rather, since her mother
had sent her up to London to participate in the Season. She found
it torture to try and remember her manners all the time but at the
age of eighteen it was her mother’s fondest wish that her only
daughter be ‘launched.’ It was a little late in the Season as Harry
had been laid low with a dreadful head cold (which was the result
of falling in the lake and not immediately returning to change out
of her wet clothes). But as soon as she had fully recovered, her
mother had packed her off to London despite the fact that her
daughter had pointed out that her launch would inevitably be
followed by her being sunk.

‘Your aunt will sort you out,’ she had said
with confidence when Harry protested one last time that she and
Society were not destined to be friends. ‘After all, she’s already
done Mary and Iris with considerable success and is certain of
securing somebody of good standing for Sarah.’

Luckily, Sarah did not mind the idea of the
marriage mart in the least and seemed to enjoy discussing her
prospects in much the same way as she discussed outings or gowns.
Harry found the whole thing bizarre.

‘But you’ll do it, won’t you?’ Sarah said
with a mixture of hope and desperation.

‘You do realise I have little experience in
breaking into the homes of gentlemen?’

‘I should hope so. But you could manage it,
couldn’t you? And if you find the Astley necklace –’

‘Which could be
hidden
anywhere
.’

‘Do you think? Surely there couldn’t be that
many places.’

‘Just enough for me to be searching all
night. Houses are rather large. Unfamiliar houses even more so, I
should imagine.’

‘You cannot search all night. If he were to
discover you it would be disastrous.’

‘Oh, do you think so?’

Sarah Astley sighed. ‘I did not imagine that
anything like this would happen when I took it.’

‘I daresay you didn’t. Not even you would
have been so shatter-brained as that. When Uncle Isaiah finds out
–’

Sarah winced. ‘That is the
point. Papa must not
find
out for he would be furious. It is to be worn on
my wedding day and not before.’

‘You don’t think, under the circumstances,
that your parents might have had a point? Wearing it to a rout, of
all things. Harriet shook her head, which set her burnished copper
curls dancing. ‘What on earth prompted you to do anything so
rash?’

‘Most ladies get to wear their jewelry
without having it stolen right off them,’ Sarah flashed back
immediately. ‘How could I possibly know that such a thing would
happen?’

Actually, Harry had to
concede that her cousin had a point. Having a gentleman steal a
piece of jewelry at a public function was utterly scandalous. If
one could not trust a
gentleman
…

On the positive side, Harry really was
exactly the right person to engage in such a ridiculous lark for if
anybody could get Sarah’s necklace back, she probably could. By
breaking into the man’s house they would have a bold advantage, for
he probably wouldn’t be expecting anything so rash.

She frowned, chewing her lip thoughtfully.
‘I wonder what he wants.’

Sarah hesitated. ‘I really don’t know
although I did try to find out. When I discovered it was missing I
realised immediately what must have happened. He was the only one
whose hand had been behind my neck so I knew he must have it.
Naturally, I discovered it was missing almost as soon as I returned
to Iris and her mother. Iris pointed out that it was no longer
around my neck. I was so stunned I could not think for a moment.
But then… well, I went in search of Lord Sutton but he had
disappeared. And yesterday – and believe me I had the most dreadful
night for I barely closed my eyes! – I knew I had to ask him.
Perhaps it was some kind of mistake or… or a game or something. You
remember those pranks that young men were engaging in, taking
something of a female and only giving it back for a kiss?’

‘Good God no,’ Harry returned, revolted by
this glimpse into youthful high spirits.

‘No, I suppose you were not here then. It
was most improper, of course but also quite exciting. I thought it
might be something like that so I screwed up the courage to ask
him. We all went for a walk in Hyde Park yesterday afternoon… I
suggested it, for I knew that Lord Sutton liked to take the air
there. And sure enough, I found him promenading in the park. So I
approached him.’ Sarah paused, moistening her lips. ‘I asked him
what he had done with my necklace –’ she paused again,
swallowing.

‘And he said?’ Harry prompted gently, after
a time.

‘He denied that he had it. Said that he did
not know what I was talking about and if I’d lost it, I should tell
my father for surely it was quite valuable. He could remember
admiring it when we had been dancing. But I know he was shamming.
He was smiling in a peculiar way that made me think he was making
fun of me. It was most embarrassing.’

Reaching out, Harry
squeezed her cousin’s hand. ‘Just as I said… smoky. But if he
denied he has it then that must mean he is going to sell it.’
Because if he wasn’t after seducing Sarah or blackmailing her,
theft was the only option left. It was hardly surprising that the
scoundrel had focused on the Astley necklace for it was a fine
piece, the diamonds of the first water. And really, stealing it in
such a way was rather clever for there was no way that Sarah could
prove that he had it and he would depend on her not making a fuss
and, consequentially, a scandal. And even if Sarah
did
tell her father,
Sutton would be sure to deny it. Who could prove any differently?
It would be Sarah’s word against the scoundrel’s and Uncle Isaiah
would certainly not want his daughter to be involved in anything
that smelt of scandal. ‘What if he has already sold it?’

‘It was only two nights ago,’ Sarah said
anxiously. ‘Do you think he would have acted so soon?’

Harry pursed her lips, considering this, and
then shook her head. ‘It doesn’t seem very likely. But even if I do
break into his house to search for it there really is no guarantee
that I will be able to find it. A man like that is likely to have
all manner of cunning hiding places.’

‘I know,’ Sarah sighed. ‘And if you can’t
then I have quite resigned myself to telling Mama and Papa what has
happened. I don’t want to. There will be a dreadful to do. Papa
will get very red in the face and probably call on Lord Sutton.
Mama will have a fit of the vapors and retire to her room. It will
be ghastly.’

‘A delightful picture,’ Harry observed
glumly. ‘Let’s just see if I can’t find the thing before we have to
suffer through such scenes, all right? We can consider what a
disaster the situation will turn into after that.’

Sarah clasped her hands together and
swallowed heavily. ‘So you’ll do it, then?’

‘Of course,’ Harry said, surprised. ‘You may
be a goose but you’re my cousin. Besides,’ she added, with an
impish smile, ‘I’ve never broken into a gentleman’s house before.
It might be interesting.’

Sarah regarded her cousin uneasily, taking
in the impish moss green eyes and generous, curving mouth – really,
her cousin rather resembled a pixie – and thought that only Harry
could consider such a terrifying undertaking fun. Not so Sarah; she
found the whole thing the stuff of nightmares.

She prayed that Harry could save her.

Not a mile distant in Mount Street…

‘The thing is Charlie, if I don’t get those
chits back, I shall be ruined.’

Mr. Charles Lampforth
regarded his companion glumly. Monty Truelove was a good friend,
even if he was a complete clod. He was young, he had a great deal
of money held in trust for him and his only talent – which was
really the
opposite
of a talent – was that he made all manner of dubious
acquaintances, most of which seemed keen on relieving him of some
of his considerable inheritance.

‘Have some more kippers,’ he urged, for want
of something better to say. ‘They will make you feel better.’

‘I doubt anything could make me feel
better,’ Monty objected, but he took some more kippers anyway. He
had unexpectedly arrived for breakfast at an unseasonably early
hour. It had been so early that Charlie was still abed, the
prospect of breakfast nothing more than a vague promise before him.
Undaunted by this evidence of his host’s tardiness in facing the
day, Mr. Truelove had remained on the premises, waiting for Charlie
to show himself.

‘Why do they insist on bleeding you before
you’ve got your hands on the family green?’ he demanded as he
addressed himself to a plate of sliced beef. ‘Now you’re going to
have to apply to those two wet fish, Bristow and Leech.’

Masters Bristow & Leech were a pair of
elderly solicitors who oversaw Mr. Truelove’s estate until he came
of age. They were intensely aware of their own importance and
extremely pleased when they were given the opportunity to make
Monty feel like a worthless worm whenever he was forced to apply to
them for funds.

‘I don’t want to go and see B&L!’ the
young gentleman protested in apparent revulsion. ‘Not after last
time. Rather a hair shirt and flail, thank you very much.’

‘How much are you in for?’ Charlie
demanded.

‘Well the thing is, Lord Sutton bought up
all my chits so I only owe one sum.’

Charlie’s heart sank. ‘Sutton? You owe
Sutton? Man’s a snake.’

‘He’s a snake who bought up all my
debts.’

‘This is
not
a good thing.’
Charlie had heard a thing or two about Alfred Arthur Sutton and
none of it made him think that the fellow was a philanthropist.
Actually the things that he had heard made him doubt if the man was
actually a gentleman. ‘He has the worst reputation and has ruined
more than one poor fool. How much do you owe him?’

Monty swallowed and seemed to brace himself.
Unconsciously, Charlie braced himself too. ‘In the region of two
thousand pounds or thereabouts.’

Mr. Lampforth’s jaw dropped. He had expected
a hefty sum but this… this was a small fortune! ‘Two! Are you
dicked in the nob? How the devil did you manage to lose so
much?’

‘Oh you know,’ Monty muttered. ‘Faro, loo,
cribbage. Horses, boxing, cockfighting. Anything that I can put
some money on, really. The thing is Charlie, I’m not very
lucky.’