Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (37 page)

“Oh, dear.” She hadn’t meant to set him off. She really hadn’t been thinking of him at all. “Forgive me for raising my voice. Another day we will visit the docks.”

He began rocking back and forth from his waist. His hands fluttered as they often did before he launched into a full-blown fit of hysteria. The paper boat fell to the ground.

Miss Channing placed her hands on his shoulders. “Master Rafe, what is it?”

He jerked from her touch with a high-pitched scream. The governess’s eyes rounded and she froze. Her gaze darted toward Lisette, questioning.

“Everything will be all right. Leave him be.” Lisette lowered to one knee so she was on his level. Monsieur Baptiste quietly slipped outside. “There, there, Rafe. Shh. We must calm ourselves.”

“I want to go. I want to go.” To an outsider like Miss Channing, Rafe might appear to be nothing more than a spoiled child, but Lisette had ignited something in her brother he would be unable to stop once he reached a certain point.

She should have been calm, not allowed her anger with Daniel to seep out.

“I’ll escort you to the docks,” Monsieur Baptiste said from behind her. She startled, whipping her head toward his voice. He had slipped back inside undetected. “I will watch after Master Rafe while you speak with Captain Hillary.”

Lisette looked up at Miss Channing. The governess hugged herself, a tremor shaking her slight frame. She wasn’t equipped to handle one of Rafe’s fits, and would have no idea how to provide him comfort.

“I think it’s best if I take Rafe along,” Lisette said over her brother’s whimpering. “Miss Channing, would you retrieve my reticule from my chambers? It is resting on my writing desk.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The governess hopped to the task as if grateful to be charged with doing something productive.

Lisette spoke soothingly to Rafe. “We shall travel to the docks now. We will see the black waters of the Thames, and the frigates, barques, and the schooners…”

Rafe assumed recitation of all the ships he knew, mumbling them as he continued to rock.

Monsieur Baptiste stepped forward. “The hack waited out front to see if I would be received. I have asked the driver to carry us to the docks.”

Lisette turned to the gentleman with a grateful smile. “You are too kind, monsieur. Your assistance is appreciated.”

He bowed. “I am your humble servant, Madame Hillary.”

The governess returned with the reticule, Lisette placed Miss Fanchon’s letter inside, and grasped Rafe’s hand. “To the docks to see the
Cecily
.” She sounded much more cheerful than she felt.

***

Serafine held back as Isaac banged his fist against Monsieur Baptiste’s door again. There was still no response. Where could he be at this hour?

She held Isaac’s handkerchief over her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. “What is that stench?” The piece of cloth muffled her voice.

“That is the smell of debauchery, sweetheart. Spirits, cigars, and—” His face flushed pink, and he tried the handle instead of finishing his thought. “Excellent. It appears to be unlocked.”

“We cannot enter uninvited.” Serafine breached the threshold rather than remain in the corridor despite her protest. The landlord hadn’t exhibited any qualms about allowing them entrance to the lodging house, and likely wouldn’t sound the alarm if they slipped into Monsieur Baptiste’s rooms. From all appearances, the man turned a blind eye to many things.

“It does seem less disgusting inside,” she said.

Isaac propelled her farther inside and closed the door behind them.

The space housed few pieces of furniture, and those items were functional at best. There was none of the luxury enjoyed at number 17 Curzon.

“I’m fully convinced after seeing these lodgings,” she mused, “Captain Hillary holds no fondness for Monsieur Baptiste.”

“I wonder where the gentleman has hied off to this early.”

“Good question.” She sighed. “I was anxious to speak with him at once this morning.”

After reading the letter from Uncle Robert’s solicitor last night, she had hoped Monsieur Baptiste might be able to provide her with additional clues to her brother’s whereabouts. “If Xavier sent instructions to Monsieur Baptiste regarding the disbursement of Rafe’s funds as the solicitor suggested, the missive might indicate where Xavier has gone. We would at least know where to search if he sent something from a different locale.”

She meandered through the room, uncertain of the reason she felt the need to linger when no one was home. “Uncle Robert must have been out of his mind to entrust Xavier with Rafe’s fortune.”

Isaac’s gaze followed her. “But your uncle left Monsieur Baptiste in charge of running the mill. He was wise in that instance. Any man with a twenty percent share of the profits will be invested in making it a successful venture.”

“True.” She continued her circle of the room. “Uncle Robert thought a lot of Monsieur Baptiste. The solicitor’s letter said Uncle had even arranged for his estate to go to Monsieur Baptiste if anything happened to Rafe or Lisette and neither left any issue.”

Isaac frowned. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“I think it was a gesture of kindness on Uncle’s part. Monsieur Baptiste is advanced in age. He’ll never outlive Lisette or Rafe. Besides, my cousin will have issue.”

The hairs on her arms stood on end and she hugged herself. “Isaac, have you ever had a strange feeling you couldn’t shake?”

“Like what?”

“Like something isn’t quite right. I can’t explain it.”

“If you mean there’s something not right about Mr. Baptiste, then I agree. I’ve never fully trusted him. Let’s see what secrets he keeps in his bedchamber.”

Isaac’s boots knocked against the wood floor as he stalked toward the back room.

“Wait! What are you looking for? You’ve never said anything about distrusting Monsieur Baptiste.”

“There was never cause to speak up.”

She paused outside the bedchamber door and watched as he moved to the wardrobe. “Monsieur Baptiste would stand to gain much if your cousins died without issue,” he said.

“He doesn’t know the contents of the will. Otherwise, he would have had no reason to worry about Reynaud stealing Rafe’s estate. As long as it remains in a trust, it’s untouchable.”

Serafine wandered to the wardrobe also and peered inside. “Monsieur Baptiste appears to own nothing more than the clothes on his back.”

“He was taken from his home by force. I doubt Reynaud left him the option of packing for the journey.”

“He was allowed a satchel, I believe, but point taken. There’s nothing here.”

Isaac went to the bed next and pulled down the covers to search between the folds.

Really, what did Isaac hope to find? A suspicious bed bug? “Perhaps under the mattress,” she teased.

“Good idea.”

She moved to the foot of the bed to allow Isaac access when he tossed the coverlet aside.

Stooping, he snaked a hand underneath before sweeping his arm side to side. “I feel something.”

He pulled a bundle of papers from underneath the mattress with a triumphant smile lighting his handsome face, but Serafine’s heart had stopped beating. With his back to the door, Isaac couldn’t see they were no longer alone.

Reynaud filled the doorway. “Greetings, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

“Monsieur Reynaud.”

Isaac whipped around. “What are you doing here?”

Reynaud lunged for him, a flash of metal catching her eye, and she screamed. The sickening sound of Isaac’s grunt resounded in her ears. Reynaud jerked the weapon from Isaac’s middle and shoved him backwards. He landed on the floor at Serafine’s feet. A crimson tide soaked through his waistcoat.

“Isaac!” Serafine crouched beside him and pressed his handkerchief against the wound.

“I’m all right, Sera.”

By the saints, he wasn’t all right. “We have to get you to a doctor.” A sharp pain exploded in her skull as Reynaud yanked her to her feet by her hair and pressed the knife against her neck. The cold seeped through her skin and into her bones. A violent tremor shuddered through her.

“Tell me, mademoiselle,” he whispered in her ear. “Is Baptiste in on your blackmailing scheme, or are you using his rooms to hide my letters?”

“Blackmail? I know nothing about blackmail.”

Reynaud twisted her around to face him and gripped her shoulders. The glimpse of his knife from the corner of her eye made her legs tremble. “Don’t lie to me, mademoiselle. It is early and I fear I’m not a morning person.”

She had never known him to be an evening person either. Nor was he pleasant midday or afternoon, for that matter. “I—I’m not lying.”

Isaac attempted to push up from the floor, but collapsed. “Release her.” His voice was raspy and weak.

Dear Lord, she couldn’t die like this, not with Isaac helpless to do anything. She drew in a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but please, allow Monsieur Tucker to seek aid for himself. He is bleeding.”

Reynaud’s gaze flicked in Isaac’s direction and he paled. Closing his eyes, his throat worked convulsively and his grip on her shoulders loosened. Whatever was the matter with him?

His dark eyes flew open and fixed on her. “Forget about him. He can’t stand. How is he to seek out aid?”

“Please.”

Reynaud’s lip curled. “You’re in no position to barter.”

The monster enjoyed his domination. Hatred rolled off him, and exhilaration.

Show
him
respect.
Serafine cleared her throat, praying her instincts were correct. “Monsieur Reynaud, I would never have the courage to cross you. Only a fool would try to manipulate a man of exceptional intellect such as you.”

She hoped his ability to ferret out insincerity was overshadowed by his raging arrogance.

His brows rose slightly. A sign of interest or skepticism? She couldn’t tell.

“I—I have too much respect for you, sir. You are much too powerful.”

He grinned, baring most of his teeth. “You would be a reckless young woman, to be certain, but Lisette doesn’t have it in her. I questioned her many times. Subtly, of course. She knew nothing of my letters.”

“Truly, monsieur, our wits are no match for yours. You would see through both of us if we dared to lie.”

“Indeed.” He nodded slowly as if considering the logic of her statement. “And you claim no knowledge of blackmail or my letters?”

Isaac panted, wincing as he held his side and tried to lift to his knees. He sank back to the floor with a pained groan.

Stay
put, please.

Serafine forced her attention back to Reynaud. She needed to act quickly if there was any hope of helping Isaac. “Monsieur Tucker unearthed a packet the moment you arrived. You witnessed his discovery. We have no idea what it is he has found.”

Reynaud’s jaw hardened. “How did you know to search Baptiste’s rooms?”

Her heart tripped. Would he believe her if she spoke the truth? “I had an uneasy feeling… about Monsieur Baptiste. I cannot explain it. I thought he might know something about my brother.” She met Reynaud’s cold gaze, pleading with him to believe her. “When we didn’t find him at home, we sought clues to help me understand this feeling I have. There’s something untoward about the gentleman.”

“Tell me what made you suspicious of Monsieur Baptiste.”

She swallowed hard and held tight to her belief she couldn’t lose everything now that she had received everything she’d ever wanted. “I learned of the details contained in Uncle Lavigne’s will this morning. Monsieur Baptiste inherits everything if Rafe and Lisette die. I’m uncertain what any of this has to do with you being blackmailed or the packet Isaac found.”

“Intelligent, Mademoiselle Vistoire, a woman who doesn’t ignore her animal instincts.” Reynaud released her and she stumbled against the wall before catching herself. He strolled to Isaac’s crumpled body, averting his eyes as he bent down to pick up the packet from the floor.

“The sight of blood bothers you?”

He shook his head slowly, looking green around the gills.

Oh, for heaven’s sake!
Serafine could have argued the point with him, but she didn’t care. If he fainted from the sight, all the better.

She nodded toward Isaac. “How very red it is.”

Reynaud didn’t look in Isaac’s direction again. Instead, he approached her slowly. “You’ve answered my questions remarkably well
and
discovered my letters, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

She steeled herself for the plunge of his knife, and jumped when he captured her by the shoulders again and kissed her left cheek then her right.

“My apologies for Mr. Tucker’s injuries,” he whispered in her ear. His hot breath on her skin chilled her to the bone. “You should seek help for him at once.” Releasing her, Reynaud tucked the bundle under his arm. “I have a rendezvous I’m loath to miss, or I would offer my assistance.”