Midnight Bride (49 page)

Quickly the viscount explained. "As you can see, my lord, I could not deny him my help," he finished quietly.

Seward sat there for a moment, his fingers tapping each other lightly. "I hope that when this incident is over there will be no more. You do what you must, but make certain that your connection with this office is not widely known."

"Shall I stay away until this is over, my lord?" Dunstan asked stiffly.

"No. I need you. You can read the reports and write summaries. And tell me what the
ton
is talking about." Dunstan winced. "Not the scandals, about the war. Now get to work."

During the days Dunstan wrote his reports; in the evenings he escorted Elizabeth to the dinners and card parties that marked the beginning of people's return for the Season. Elizabeth too spent her days involved in business. From visiting fabric warehouses to find the materials to refurbish the hall, to ordering a new wardrobe for the Season, to running errands for her stepmother, she was busy from morning to night. Although she once would have dreaded them, even the evenings with their entertainments did little to stir her fears. Having Dunstan and the earl close at hand had helped. And Dunstan, as if he could read her mind and her fears, found reasons to be constantly at her side.

The earl had arrived in town a week after their own arrival. Bearing messages from both
Cecile
and the Westins, he had been a welcome sight, especially to Charles. As soon as his duties at the Horse Guards were completed, Charles spent the rest of his days at Clarendon House, prompting Dunstan to ask when he planned to move in. "I prefer to keep my own lodgings," Charles had said calmly.
"Wouldn't want to impose."
His eyes twinkled merrily.

As soon as the earl had arrived, Dunstan and Elizabeth had poured out the whole story. He had just listened, his face impassive, his eyes hidden as they usually were when his head was held at a normal angle. After they had finished, he sat for a few minutes and then asked, "Have you made any progress in discovering this person's identity?" He tilted his head to one side to look at them. They shook their heads.

"We are waiting for an answer to the letter Charles sent."

"Have you checked the place to which the money was sent?"

"Charles and George, Lord
Ramsburg
, did that at the very beginning. The man there simply sends them on," Elizabeth explained.

"Did you get the new address?" The earl's mind was sorting through possibilities.

"No. It is never the same twice. The letter comes. Then we suspect the man gives some sort of signal.
Haven't been able to detect it yet.
Then someone, different each time, appears to take it away," Dunstan said quietly.

"Interesting," the earl said thoughtfully. "Is this in London?"

"Near where Covent Garden
theater
used to be."

The earl raised his head at that, realizing the tenements that surrounded the place. "Strange. Did you try bribery?"

"Yes," his grandson said. "But the man is too afraid to talk. There's something there that we do not know about."

"I shall talk to Charles. The boy must know something that he has not told us," the earl said, his voice serious.

In the times when he was not busy with his seat in the House of Lords and Charles was not on duty, the earl made Charles relate the details of his life from the first moment he arrived back in town from Brighton. Certain that there was something both he and Charles were
missing,
he made copious notes each time and then compared them to the ones he had made earlier.

"This Jonathan, is he one of your closer friends?" the earl asked one afternoon after they had spent hours going over the story again.

"No. Oh, we run in the same circles. We play cards together, box the Watch. He looks me up whenever I am at my club," Charles explained again. Although at first he had protested when the earl demanded that he tell the story over and over again, Charles had early learned that refusing the earl was useless and was not a way to maintain a peaceful environment.

"Who is your closest friend? Everyone you have mentioned seems only an acquaintance."

"He is with the army on the Peninsula," Charles explained. "After that I suppose I spend more time with Elizabeth and Dunstan and you. Or Sebastian," he added as an afterthought.

"Sebastian?"

"Sebastian Hartley. I met him when I came to town for the first time." Charles shifted, uncomfortable in the high collar of his uniform. He wished that he had taken the time to go by his lodgings and change into something more comfortable. But he had been released late, and he knew the earl was waiting. Charles did not plan to repeat the last time he had not been prompt. The old man had torn a strip from him as though he were his own grandson. In fact, Charles was beginning to believe he was. His grandfathers having died rather young, he had never known anyone like the earl before and was rather fascinated by him.

"Hartley.
Believe you have mentioned that name before. Stop squirming, young man." Charles sat still while the earl sorted through the papers. "Yes, here it is. Let me see." He read for a moment and then tilted his head back. Charles had his finger inside his collar, trying to loosen it. "Knew that collar was too tight the first time I saw it. But you had to learn yourself. Next time have the tailor build in some extra room. What good is a uniform if you cannot move in it? Go on now.
Change.
Give me a chance to review this," he ordered as briskly as any general Charles had met. "But do not dawdle."

When he returned sometime later, Dunstan and Elizabeth had arrived. Elizabeth was saying, "Everything is ready. The acceptances have been pouring in. Louisa was right. No one seems to care about last summer. Even Mama was wrong. She thought so early in the Season the party would be sadly thin of company. Now she declares it will be a sad crush." The men laughed. "When you are standing in the receiving line tomorrow evening, you will not be laughing," she said with a grimace. Just then she saw Charles. Her face brightened. "I had a visitor today, Charles."

"Yes?" His face showed his disinterest.

"She was most disappointed not to see you."

"One of Mama's friends ready to tweak my cheek and tell me what a handsome young man I am," he said cynically.

"She does think you are handsome. Don't you think so?" she asked the other two. They nodded solemnly. "But I think
Cecile
is rather young to be one of Mama's bosom bows."

"Cecile?
Do you have her direction? Would it be proper for me to call? Is she coming to the party?" Charles's words fell out of his mouth as though shot
from a
cannon.

"Too bad you did not stay in uniform, Charles," the earl
said,
a twinkle in his eye. "I understand some girls are impressed by them."

"Not
Cecile.
Elizabeth, where are they staying? Are they receiving visitors?"

"Yes. And here is their direction. I knew you would want to dart off immediately when you heard." His sister handed him the card and sat down, not at all surprised when he rushed from the room.

Settling back to pour the tea, Elizabeth handed the cups around and had the footman serve the sandwiches and cakes. "Have you discovered anything new, Grandfather?" she asked when the servants had left.

"I am not certain. Charles goes about meeting people every day. And from what I can see, no one dislikes him.
Very pleasant to have around.
Few close friends.
Does keep mentioning Hartley."

"Hartley!"
Dunstan and Elizabeth said at almost the same moment. They exchanged a look. Dunstan signaled Elizabeth to go ahead.

"The man is a bounder," Elizabeth said, disgust in her voice. "He likes Charles because my brother sometimes is very foolish and drinks and plays deeply. He has led Charles into some dangerous business. Mama and I were very disturbed."

"Is that all?" the earl asked, his face thoughtful.

He had dipped his pen in a nearby inkwell and was making notes.

Dunstan opened his mouth, but Elizabeth continued. "The man ravished one of my maids last spring.
And caused a dustup between Charles and me.
Then when I asked him to leave the manor, he was offended. He seemed to think I had no authority. He tried to persuade Charles to change my mind. But Charles
sorted
him out somehow. He left later that same day in one of the coaches."

"You did not tell me any of this," Dunstan said, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

"It happened before we married," she said quietly, not certain she liked the jealousy that was rampant in her husband.

"Yes, but . . ." Dunstan looked at his wife, took a deep breath and held his tongue.

"Do you know something else about the man, Robert?" the earl asked, dipping his pen into the ink again.

"He is as bad a man as you and your mother feared, Elizabeth. Comes from an old family, not much money and what he has, he gambles away." Dunstan and his grandfather exchanged glances, remembering only too well what happened in that situation.
"Supplements his income by associating with the young men, those just in town for a bit of town bronze.
Takes them under his wing and introduces them to dangerous living."

"Any evidence of blackmail, my boy?"

"Not as far as I can tell." Not pleased to have to admit his actions, Dunstan went on. "When I got back to town after the house party at the manor last spring, I knew something was wrong. I had someone in our department do some checking for me. I didn't like what I saw." His eyes were on Elizabeth's face, checking for the disgust he was certain he would see there.

Her eyes remained clear. In fact, she smiled the slow, temperature raising smile she reserved only for him. He let the breath he had been holding out slowly. "He gets the young men in deep waters. And there is always a profit in it somewhere for him."

The earl turned to Elizabeth. "Has he been invited to the party?"

"Mama protested, but Charles insisted. Then Louisa convinced her by reminding her of the purpose of the party. He was one of the first acceptances.
But why Charles?
They are friends."

"Hartley has no friends," Dunstan reminded her. "He cannot afford them."

While the earl made copious notes about Hartley, Charles made his way to Grosvenor Square, where the Westins had rented a house for the Season. Handing his card to the butler, he waited to see if he would be admitted. Then he saw the flowers on the table in the entryway and cursed softly. He would order some to be delivered every day, he promised himself.
If she would only agree to see him.