My Lord Murderer (25 page)

She had no one to protect her … the thought repeated itself over and over in his mind. He had no right to take on that role—no right at all. And she certainly would give him no thanks for his interference. She would probably find some way to blame him for the whole affair. But he
was
going. He’d known all morning that he would go.

He went swiftly to the door. “Mallow,” he shouted, “go to the stables and tell them to harness the bays. I want them at the door as soon as I’ve changed my clothes.” As he took the stairs three at a time, he noticed with surprise that he felt almost happy.

Chapter Fourteen

T
HE HOUSE OF
J
OSHUA
P
LUMB
was the grandest on the street, standing out among the neat, modest edifices in vulgar pretension. The door was massive and the brass knocker ornate, the iron grille fence was tipped with gold on every curlicue, and every window boasted a little ledge with a wrought-iron railing. Wys banged the knocker with some misgiving. What was he doing here, presuming to give advice to strangers whose way of life he did not know and whose needs and goals were completely mysterious to him?

Only the thought of Anabel kept him from fleeing. He could still see her face as it had looked when she had poked her head out of the carriage window to say those last words to him. Her eyes had been full of tears and her chin had been trembling. Was he a coxcomb to believe that her expression was not that of a girl who was happily betrothed to someone else? With that picture of her woebegone face before him, he determined to do what he could to save her from Pollard.

A neatly dressed serving maid answered his knock. He stepped into a dark entryway which was not made brighter by the large number of paintings and ornaments that covered the panelled walls. “I’d like to see Miss Plumb, please,” he told the maid.

“The fam’ly’s all at luncheon, sir,” the girl said dubiously.

“I see. But I’ve come on a matter of some urgency. Will you present my card to Miss Plumb and ask if she might spare me a few minutes?”

The maid bowed and disappeared into a room down the hall. There the whole family was indeed taking luncheon. It pleased Mr. Plumb to stroll down from the city every day at noon to join his family for a substantial mid-day meal, consisting of both a cold and a hot course. The five of them sat round an enormous table. They had already dispensed with generous servings of cold roast chicken, ham, and pickled salmon, and were now embarked on the second course of river trout, potatoes, greens, toast, and poached eggs. Gooseberry tarts and custard pudding were still waiting to be served.

The maid brought the card directly to Anabel, who looked at it, gasped, and paled. Since every eye was on her, her consternation was immediately noted and remarked upon. “What is
that?
” Mr. Plumb asked the maid.

“Gentleman to see Miss Anabel, sir,” she said.

“
Gentleman?
What gentleman?” asked Mrs. Plumb in a flurry, leaning over to her younger daughter and fluffing her curls while kicking the leg of her elder to remind her to sit up straight.

“It’s only … a gentleman who did me a service the other day on my way home from grandmama’s,” Anabel said, her face now as red as it was pale a moment ago. “May I be excused to see him for a moment, papa?”

“Just a minute, Miss, just a minute.
What
service did he do you?”

“Well, I … He … Oh, it would take too long to explain now. I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve seen him,” Anabel said, rising hopefully.

“Sit down I say! What’s this all about?”

“It’s nothing to make a to-do over, Papa. The hack driver got into an argument with an apple vendor and neither would budge. And Mr. Farr settled the whole matter and bought all the apples and gave them to everyone in the street,” Anabel said rapidly.

“Well, well! A regular gallant knight, eh? I suppose he’s come to claim a reward. Must have cost him a bit of blunt to buy them apples, so now he’s hopin’ the pennies he threw away’ll come back a pony.”

“Well, I never!” Mrs. Plumb declared, outraged. “You ain’t goin’ to give ’im no twenty-five pounds!”

“It was only a manner of speakin’, Martha, only a manner of speakin’,” Joshua assured her. “I’m not a man to be throwin’ my blunt about.”

“I’m certain that Mr. Farr hasn’t come here for a reward!” Anabel said, jumping to her feet indignantly. “Please, Papa, let me go out to him. It’s terribly rude to keep him standing at the door.”

“No, my dear, let’s have him in here. I’d like to have a look at your Good Samaritan.”

“So would I,” giggled one of the sisters.

Anabel resumed her seat in a quake. She watched the door with eager expectation, at the same time suffering greatly from the frustration of facing him with all her family as witnesses. More than anything else, she wondered why he had come. After she had last seen him and had realized that her simple honesty in admitting her betrothal had completely cut off any chance she had of seeing him again, she could have cut out her tongue. Now by some good fortune, she had been given a third chance. If only her family were not in her way!

Mr. Farr was shown in. He looked around and bowed to Martha. “I sincerely apologize for my ill-timed visit, ma’am,” he said politely. “I had no intention of interrupting you at your luncheon.”

Mr. and Mrs. Plumb and Martha’s daughters stared at him openmouthed. They had thought Sir George Pollard had been very grand, but something about this gentleman was more awe-inspiring. His coat of dark-blue superfine, cut to perfection; his pale blue breeches fitting over his legs without a crease or bulge; the neat watch-chain hanging from his striped waistcoat with its single fob; his impeccable neckcloth folded in a perfect “Oriental”; and his modest but not shy demeanor, made him stand out in the over-decorated room—among these overdressed, crimped, and jewelry-bedecked people—like a diamond in a pile of glass beads.

Joshua Plumb looked him over in approval. “No interruption at all, I say. No need to stand on ceremony with Joshua Plumb.” And he stood up and wrung Wys’s hand. “Didn’t get your name, sir,” he said in an aside.

“I’m Wystan Farr.”

“How d’ye do? Sit you down, Mr. Farr, and break some bread with us,” Plumb urged heartily. “Nothin’ here’s too good for the man who rescued my girl.”

“Do that, Mr. Farr, sir,” echoed Martha eagerly. “There’s always plenty at our table, as ye can see. And anything ye don’t see that ye’ve a mind to, we’re sure to ’ave in the kitchen.”

Martha’s daughters giggled in agreement.

“Thank you, ma’am, but, if you’ll excuse me, I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with Miss Plumb. Do you think you could permit me to speak to her alone?”

Martha’s daughters giggled again. Joshua Plumb frowned at the visitor suspiciously. “What would you have to talk to my girl about? You hardly know each other, from what I’ve heard, unless…” He turned and glared at his daughter. “… unless she’s been pokin’ bogey!”

“Papa! It was no
tale
! I’ve only seen Mr. Farr twice in my life!” Anabel declared.

“
Twice
is it?
Twice?
Seems to me your story covered only
one
meeting. Did he rescue you a second time?” he asked with heavy sarcasm.

“Seems to me there’s something ’avey-cavey going on,” Martha put in.

Anabel looked at Wys with an expression of such embarrassment and shame that all his gallant instincts were again aroused. If ever a maiden needed rescuing from a houseful of dragons, it was she! He caught her eye and smiled at her, a smile of such understanding and encouragement that her agitation dissolved. Here was an ally, neither intimidated by her father’s bluster nor revolted by her stepmother’s excesses. She smiled timidly back at him.

“Perhaps, Mr. Plumb, if I could talk to
you
alone, I could explain,” Wys suggested.

“Very well,” Joshua Plumb said, getting up from his chair with an effort. “Come into the sittin’ room.”

Wys’s imperturbability had given Anabel the courage she had lacked before. “Papa, please let me come, too,” she asked, ignoring the obvious disapproval of her stepmother. “Mr. Farr came to see
me
, you know.”

“I don’t see why ’e can’t say what he come for in front of us all,” Martha said querulously.

“Can’t expect the fellow to talk about private matters with a roomful of strangers listenin’ in,” Joshua said, dismissing his wife and her girls with a wave of his hand. “You ladies go on with your luncheon. Don’t disturb yourselves.” And he nodded to Wys and Anabel and led them from the room.

Once settled in the sitting room, Joshua faced this elegant young stranger aggressively. “So, here we are. Say your say without roundaboutation.”

“I must ask you a personal question first, Mr. Plumb. Please believe that I do not mean to pry into matters that are not rightfully my concern, but I have some information which may be of use to you and Miss Plumb, and I could not, in good conscience, withhold it.”

“Well then, ask your question, sir, ask your question. I ain’t sayin’ that I’ll necessarily answer it, for that depends on the question, now, don’t it? But there’s no harm in your askin’.”

“Is your daughter affianced to a gentleman by the name of Sir George Pollard, Mr. Plumb?”

Anabel started, colored, and fixed her eyes on Wys with an anxious intensity. Her father gave a surprised grunt. “Yes, that she is, though how you’ve come to hear it is a mystery to me. Nothin’ was to be said for three weeks yet to come.
You
didn’t tell him, did you, girl?”

“No, Papa, not his name.”

“Not his
name?
What does
that
mean?” Joshua said in disgust. “I gave Pollard my word we’d say nothin’ at
all
! Just what
did
you say to this here chap?”

“I only told him I was betrothed,” Anabel admitted.

“What did you say that for? Couldn’t you wait for a few weeks before you spilled the news to every passin’ stranger?”

“Hang it, Mr. Plumb, she
had
to tell me,” Wys cut in, annoyed at the manner in which Mr. Plumb was castigating his daughter.

“
Had
to? Why?” Plumb demanded.

Wys looked at Anabel for guidance. She met his glance and courageously took over the struggle. “Mr. Farr asked permission to … to call on me,” she explained to her father with becoming modesty. “I told him my situation to explain why I had to refuse him.”

“She gave me no name, however. I learned the name of her … betrothed … quite by accident,” Wys added in support.

“Oh, ho!” Joshua snorted in amusement. “Wanted to call on her, did you? Now things are startin’ to become plain. Why didn’t you say so before? Of course, I can’t give you permission to call on her, y’know, even if the announcement ain’t to be made for three weeks. Wouldn’t be right, y’see.”

“I understand that, Mr. Plumb. That’s not why I’ve come today.”

“Well then, what
did
you come for? Can’t you speak out straight?”

“No, sir, I’m afraid I can’t. This is a delicate matter, and there’s a question I should ask your daughter in private before I proceed.”

“Private? There’s nothin’ you can say to her that you can’t say before her father.”

“Oh, Papa, please—?” Anabel pleaded.

“Quiet, Miss! He can speak up before me, or he can take himself off. Well, sir, what’s it to be?”

Wys looked at Anabel questioningly. She hesitated, looking from Wys to her father and back again. “I know this is a most awkward situation, Mr. Farr, but if you can manage to ask your question in front of my father, I will try to be equally brave and answer it.”

Wys got up and crossed the room, taking the chair nearest to her. “I hope you will not think this impertinent, Miss Plumb,” he said in a low voice, “but trust me that it is important. Is … Is your
heart
completely engaged in this match with Pollard?”

“What? What was that you said?” said Plumb, almost choking in irritation. “How dare you, a perfect stranger, ask such a thing of my girl? And why
wouldn’t
her heart be engaged, eh?”

“Oh, Papa, be still!” cried the sorely-tried Anabel. “I
want
Mr. Farr to know the truth. My father meant it for the best, Mr. Farr, but the fact is that he arranged the match entirely without my consent and … and very much against my wishes.”

This brave declaration was met with choleric fury from her father and a look of glowing gratitude from Wystan Farr. While Joshua Plumb fumed and blustered, completely ignored, Wys and Anabel smiled at each other in happy relief. Plumb at last stopped sputtering long enough to notice the looks passing between them. “Can’t see what you’re smilin’ for!” he blustered. “The girl is promised, no matter what she says, and Joshua Plumb does not go back on his word! Won’t do a bit of good to grin at each other like it’s roses and midsummer moon with you both! I gave Pollard my word she’d wed him, and wed him she will!”

“Even if the man’s a blackguard?” Wys asked calmly.

“Eh? What’s this? What do you mean?”

“At this very moment, Mr. Plumb, the man you’ve chosen for your daughter is eloping to Gretna Green with … with someone else.”

“
Eloping?
Are you tellin’ me he’s jiltin’ my Anabel?”

“No. It’s my belief that it’s the other lady he’s playing false.”

Plumb stared at Wys for a long moment. “Mmmmm. So that’s his game. Thinks to run sly with us, does he?” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Wys suspiciously. “Are you sure about all this?”

“Yes, sir. Quite sure.”

The suspicious look did not leave Plumb’s face. “And I’m supposed to take your word for all this? It seems a havey-cavey rig to me. What do you expect to get for your pains, eh? Want to take Pollard’s place with my girl, do you?”

Wys colored. “I didn’t think … Look here, Plumb, my only purpose in coming here today was to warn you of the character of the man. Of course, if Miss Plumb should decide to terminate her engagement, I hope she will permit me to call on her,” he said, stung by the antagonistic and suspicious reaction Mr. Plumb had shown to his news.

“Papa, I—” Anabel began.