Mischief (32 page)

Ufton cleared his throat. “As an example, I poured brandy into his lordship’s wound before I closed it. Many sailors and military men believe that strong spirits ward off infection.”

“How very interesting.” Imogen gave a dainty sniff.
“I collect that you also poured some of the brandy down his lordship’s throat. Was that part of the treatment?”

“Absolutely critical,” Matthias murmured.

Ufton coughed discreetly. “I also held the needle in the heart of a flame before setting my stitches. It is a technique favored in the East.”

“I have heard of it.” Imogen crouched to study the white bandage on Matthias’s arm. “The bleeding appears to have stopped.”

“The cut was not terribly deep,” Ufton said. His voice softened slightly in gruff reassurance. “His lordship will be feeling quite fit in a day or two.”

“That is wonderful news. I am so relieved.” Imogen jumped to her feet and threw her arms around Ufton. “How can I ever thank you for saving Colchester’s life?”

Ufton froze, an expression of acute horror on his face. “Uh, madam. If madam pleases, this is most … most unusual.” He broke off to turn desperate, pleading eyes toward Matthias.

“I think you had better release him, Imogen.” Matthias suppressed a grin with effort. “Ufton is not accustomed to such displays of gratitude. I have always rewarded him with money, you see. I believe he prefers that arrangement.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Imogen released Ufton and quickly stepped back. “I beg your pardon, Ufton. I did not mean to embarrass you.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “But I want you to know that I am in your debt for what you have done here tonight. If there is ever anything I can do, you must tell me.”

Ufton turned a strange shade of red and swallowed heavily. “Thank you, madam, but I assure you, my longstanding association with his lordship makes such an offer entirely unnecessary. He would do the same for me were the situation reversed, as indeed it was on one or two occasions.”

Imogen was clearly intrigued. “He sewed up a wound for you?”

“It was a number of years ago. Unfortunate incident in a tomb.” Ufton backed hastily toward the door. “Well then, I’d best be off now. I’m sure that you and his lordship have matters to discuss.”

Ufton turned and fled.

Imogen waited until the door had closed behind him and then she sank down on the sofa next to Matthias. “Tell me everything. Were you attacked by a footpad?”

“I do not believe
footpad
is the correct term.”

Imogen’s eyes widened with sudden horror. “Never say that young Mr. Bagshaw lost his temper and assaulted you?”

“No.”

“Thank heavens. For a moment there I wondered if perhaps he had gone quite mad when you spoke to him.”

“Bagshaw is reasonably sane so far as I know. He was not at all interested in what I had to say, however.”

“Oh, dear.” Imogen sighed. “I had so hoped that he would come to understand … Well, never mind. That is another problem. Tell me the whole tale, Matthias.”

“It’s a long story.” He shifted slightly and winced as his wounded arm protested.

Imogen’s eyes were eloquent. “Is the pain very bad?”

“I believe I could use another dose of brandy. For my nerves, you know. Would you mind fetching me a glass?”

“Yes, of course.” Imogen sprang from the sofa and hurried to the brandy table. She seized the decanter with such force that the elegantly cut crystal stopper flew off and bounced on the carpet. She ignored it to pour not one but two hefty measures.

She brought the glasses back to the sofa, handed one to Matthias, and sat down beside him. “I vow, this whole thing has been somewhat unsettling.” She took a large swallow of her brandy and promptly began to cough.

“There, there, my dear.” Matthias slapped her lightly between her shoulders. “The brandy will soothe your overwrought nerves.”

She glared at him over the rim of the glass. “My
nerves are not overwrought. I have exceedingly strong nerves. I have explained that to you on several occasions.”

“Well, then perhaps it will do something for mine.” Matthias took a fortifying swallow. “Where to begin? Ah, yes. I had my little chat with Bagshaw, as I told you. When it was finished I got out of the carriage and, to my surprise, found myself on the street in front of Vanneck’s residence. Former residence, I suppose I should say.”

“You just happened to alight in that neighborhood? How very odd.”

“I was certainly astonished. At any rate, I decided that as long as I was in the vicinity, I would have a look around his study.”

Imogen nearly dropped her glass. “You did
what
?”

“There is no reason to shout at me in that manner, my dear. Surely you realize that I am in a very delicate state due to my recent unnerving experiences.”

“I did not mean to raise my voice. It was just that I was quite startled. Matthias, perhaps you should not be sitting up in that fashion. It will no doubt make you feel faint. Why don’t you rest your head on my lap?”

“Excellent notion.”

Imogen put her arm around his shoulder and eased his head down onto her leg. “There. That’s better.”

“Infinitely.” Matthias closed his eyes and savored the warm, lushly rounded shape of her thigh beneath his head. Surreptitiously he inhaled her scent. His body tightened in response. “Where was I?”

“Vanneck’s study.” Imogen scowled down at him. “Why on earth did you go there?”

“I simply wanted to have a look around. The circumstances of his death have been worrying me a bit. You know how I fret about things.”

Imogen gently massaged his brow. “You should have talked to me about your concerns before you did anything rash.”

“I did not know if there was anything to be concerned
about. Which, as I said, was why I let myself into Vanneck’s study.”

“Did you find anything unusual?”

“Bloodstains.”

Imogen’s hand paused on his forehead. “Bloodstains? Are you certain?”

“Quite certain. A fair amount of blood was spilled in Vanneck’s study recently. There was a large patch on the carpet. No one had bothered to clean it up, which indicates that it happened shortly before his death.” Matthias paused. “And probably after he dismissed his servants.”

“He dismissed his servants? When?”

“Yesterday afternoon, I’m told.”

“But, Matthias, that means that he no doubt intended to leave Town rather than face you.”

“Yes. But to continue, one of the papers on his desk was stained with several drops of blood. As it happens, the page was dated. It looked as though Vanneck had just begun to write a letter, when he was interrupted.”

“What was the date on the paper?”

“Yesterday, the day before the duel.”

“Amazing.” Imogen sat very still and stared into the fire. “Do you think he was shot right there in his own study last night before he was to meet you at Cabot’s Farm?”

“I’d say that’s a likely possibility.” Matthias followed her gaze. He wondered absently if Vanneck’s ghost would appear in the flames, and then concluded that it would not. That particular specter would not haunt him, he thought.

“But that would mean that he was not killed by a footpad or a highwayman. A housebreaker, perhaps?”

“Surely no casual thief or robber would bother to drag his victim to the site of the duel,” Matthias said. “He would not even know about Vanneck’s dawn appointment.”

“Very true.” Imogen frowned intently. “But that would imply—”

“Precisely.” Matthias adjusted his position on her thigh, hoping to attract her attention back to his brow. “I think it’s safe to conclude that Vanneck was killed by someone who knew him well enough to know about the duel. The murderer probably sought to shift the blame in my direction by carting Vanneck’s body out to Cabot’s Farm.”

Imogen tapped one finger against Matthias’s uninjured shoulder. “But that means someone in Vanneck’s circle of acquaintances must be the killer.”

Matthias hesitated. “I believe that there were two people involved.”

“Two? But how do you know that?”

“Because when I went into Vanneck’s house tonight,” Matthias said, “I interrupted two people in the act of searching the premises. They had gotten there ahead of me and they did not appreciate my arrival on the scene.”

Imogen’s fingers suddenly clamped around his injured arm. “That is how you were hurt? One of those two people stabbed you?”

Matthias sucked in his breath. “I appreciate your concern, my sweet, but that’s my damaged arm.”

“Oh, my God.” She released him instantly, her eyes widening in anguished apology. “I forgot. I was carried away by your news.”

“I understand. A case of rattled nerves will do that to a person.”

“There is nothing wrong with my nerves. Now, go on with your tale.”

“Suffice it to say that there was an extremely undignified scuffle during which one of the two other people in the house used a knife on me. I could not identify either villain because they both wore cloaks and had scarves wrapped around their faces. I regret to say that they both escaped.”

“Matthias, you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t. Now then, that is the boring part of the
story. The more interesting bit has to do with what I discovered after my two companions fled into the night.”

He had not required the brandy for the pain of his wound, Matthias thought. He had needed it to give him the strength to risk his future on the throw of the dice. He knew himself for a fool. It was as if he were some brainless moth that could not resist the flame.

“You stayed to search the house after you had been injured? Colchester, how could you do something so stupid? You should have come straight home.”

Searching the study was not the stupid part
, Matthias thought.
The stupid part comes now
.

“I did not hang around Vanneck’s study for more than a few minutes,” he said. “Just long enough to find that journal.”

Imogen’s brows drew together in a severe line. “What journal?”

“That one there on the table beside you.”

Imogen glanced at the thin leather-bound volume. “Is it Vanneck’s?”

“No. It belonged to your friend Lucy.”

“
Lucy?
” Imogen studied the journal with a perplexed gaze. “I don’t understand.”

“Vanneck had it cleverly hidden in a secret compartment of his desk.”

“But why would he bother to conceal it?”

“I have no notion.” Matthias gave her a considering glance. “But it did occur to me that the two people I surprised in Vanneck’s house may have been searching for it.”

“Why?”

“We will not know the answer to that question until one of us reads it.” Matthias set his back teeth. “As Lucy was your friend, I suggest that you do the honors.”

Imogen looked troubled. “Do you think it is right to read her journal?”

“She is gone, Imogen. How can it hurt her?”

“Well—”

“You and I have made a career out of studying the messages left by those long since dead and in their graves.”

“You speak of the records left by the ancient Zamarians. Lucy was not from Zamar.”

“What is the difference? The dead are dead. It does not matter how long they have been in that condition.”
Their ghosts can linger for a lifetime
.

Imogen reached out to touch the volume. “It seems as though we would somehow intrude on Lucy’s privacy if we were to read her journal.”

“We will most certainly intrude upon it. But I want to know why Vanneck thought the thing important enough to conceal and why two other people may have searched his house for it tonight.”

“But, Matthias—”

“Let me be blunt, Imogen. If you do not want to read your friend’s journal, I will read it for you.”

The library door opened again before Imogen could respond. Matthias turned his head and saw Patricia standing in the opening. She stared at him with a stricken expression.

And then she screamed. A shrill, high, bloodcurdling screech that Matthias suspected reached the rafters. He winced and covered his ears with his hands.

“It’s all right, Patricia,” Imogen said crisply. “Matthias will recover quite nicely.”

“It is the curse.” Patricia put her hand to her throat. “Blood has been spilled.
Just as the curse predicted
.”

She turned and fled across the hall. Through the open door Matthias watched as she raced up the stairs as though all the demons of Zamar pursued her.

“It has occurred to me that my sister was destined for a career on the stage,” Matthias muttered. “What the devil was she on about? What was that rubbish concerning a curse?”

“She said something about it earlier this evening.” Imogen frowned. “Apparently she and the other young
ladies who attend Lady Lyndhurst’s salon have been studying the Rutledge Curse.”

“Hell’s teeth. I thought Selena had more sense.”

“I doubt that Lady Lyndhurst believes in it herself,” Imogen said. “I’m sure that to her it’s just an amusing game. But young ladies of Patricia’s age and delicate sensibilities sometimes take that sort of thing too seriously.”

“Those damnable delicate sensibilities,” Matthias said with a sigh. “Always causing problems for those of us who are plagued with them.”

I
mogen lay awake long after Matthias fell asleep. She turned restlessly, seeking a more comfortable position in the massive bed. Minutes became eons. The shaft of icy moonlight that streamed through the window shifted slowly across the carpet. She was intensely aware of Matthias slumbering beside her, but she felt very much alone as she pondered the prospect of reading Lucy’s journal. For some reason that went beyond the question of privacy, she was reluctant to open it.

But she also knew that she would not get any sleep at all if she did not confront the journal. Matthias would read the thing if she did not do so. There was no point trying to avoid the inevitable.

Imogen slipped out of the warm bed. She pulled on her wrapper, stepped into her slippers, and turned to look down at Matthias. He was sprawled on his stomach, his face turned away from her. His bare shoulders looked sleek and powerful against the white sheets. The moonlight gleamed on the silver fire in his black hair. It occurred to Imogen that there was something about Matthias that seemed well suited to the night.