The Earl of Her Dreams (12 page)

“You are mad. Have you seen the looks Sally gives Benji? Methinks you are blind if you haven’t.”

Christian started to whistle, and while she was glad his mood had improved, his mercurial nature still bothered her. She had determined sometime while in Olivia Trent’s room that it wasn’t Christian who was mercurial, but rather the façade he presented to everyone. The man had an ironclad persona that he seemed to don without a thought. She wondered why he felt the need to disguise his emotions so thoroughly.

Christian opened Janson’s door. The servants had been correct; the room was completely clean.

“I wonder when Sally cleaned this room?” Christian asked.

“Elias and Mary did say there was nothing in the room just before Gordon found the body.”

Christian frowned. “Mary didn’t open the door. I think it was Elias.”

Kate considered it. “You’re right. Mary came down saying the door was locked and Janson wasn’t responding. Wicket then sent Elias up. We should have probably examined this room first
yesterday, but you were determined to search Freewater’s.”

She gave him a look that he chose to ignore.

There wasn’t much furniture to search here either, but Christian checked under the mattress and Kate peered through the drapes and out onto the gallery. As she pulled the green drape closed, she noticed a bit of lighter green clinging to a sliver of wood. Curious, she leaned down and plucked up the few threads.

“Christian, is this the same color as the cloth we took from Janson’s hand?”

He let the mattress fall and lifted the pieces up to examine them in the lamplight. “Well, the drapes are green. Could they be stray threads?”

“The drapes are a different fabric. The drapes are velvety; these cotton threads are similar to what we found in Janson’s hand.”

He grinned. “Excellent work, Kate.”

She tried to wave it off, but a pleased heat spread through her.

They walked from the room and saw Nickford muttering to himself in the hallway.

“Good evening, Mr. Nickford,” Kate said.

He looked up and blinked. “Ah, good evening, Mr. Kaden, Mr. Black. Good night for catching ghouls.”

“Uh, sure, good luck, Mr. Nickford.”

He gave a cheery wave.

“Nicked in the head,” Christian muttered. Kate swatted his arm and he caught her hand, rubbing it between his bare fingers. His touch was light enough that small tingles radiated from the contact. She shivered.

He hadn’t worn gloves since that first night. His smooth hands possessed a strength and firmness that echoed his personality. Smooth and shallow on the outside, but with a core of inner strength that sometimes peeked through. It was those glimpses that held her interest.

She reclaimed her hand, clasping the railing as they descended to the ground floor. Every new touch made her more nervous about what was happening between them. Or at least what was happening to her. He probably did this type of thing all the time.

As they entered the dining room, they could hear the general chatter.

“…and he wasn’t accounted for during that time. I know he did it!”

Kate stopped in mid-step. Mr. Crescent was gesturing wildly. He had discovered the murderer?

“And he’s standing right there!”

He pointed directly at Christian.

C
hristian wasn’t sure why he froze. Perhaps it was the appalled look on Kate’s face or the wild, accusing one on Crescent’s, but he felt as if he had once again been accused of being a bad child when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I didn’t do it,” he blurted out, the old feelings briefly resurfacing before he squashed them flat. “What are you on about, Crescent?” he said with his normal drawl.

He deliberately avoided looking at Kate. He was sure she wore the same look of disappointment
that his father and brothers sported before he had escaped to Eton. Christian ruthlessly squashed those thoughts as well. And here he had thought he had shown that he could actually be of use for something besides witty repartee and debauchery. He should have known better.

A small hand tugged him to the side. He looked down to see Kate glaring at Crescent in confusion and horror. Horror directed at Crescent and not at him.

Something warm spread through him.

Crescent made an impatient motion with his hand. “Not you, Black, the man behind you!”

Christian turned to see Benji staring wide-eyed at Crescent. The male servants must have returned from working on the roads now that it was getting dark.

“You!”

Benji shrank back, and Christian felt his ire over his youthful demons redirected toward Crescent.

“Mr. Crescent, could you please explain what it is you are accusing Benji of?”

“He nicked my trousers!”

Christian’s relief was so profound that he couldn’t stifle the laughter that rose in his chest. He felt Kate shudder next to him and thought she too was snickering, but doing a better job of hiding it.

“This isn’t funny, Black!”

Christian continued to grin. “No, not funny at all, Crescent.”

“I demand he return my trousers at once!”

Christian let loose another snicker and a few of the other patrons couldn’t hold in theirs as well. He noticed that Tom, who had returned with Benji after helping to clear the roads, was also standing in the doorway. He wasn’t laughing. He was in fact shooting Crescent an extremely menacing glare.

Kate said out of the side of her mouth, “I guess you were right about the occasional trouser theft.”

And with that he let go of his memories and the pain. Oh, they would return sometime in the future, they always did, but for now a true grin appeared. Kate surreptitiously squeezed his side.

Mr. Wicket waved his short arms to get everyone’s attention. “Here now, what’s this?”

Crescent’s arm was trembling in rage. “He stole my trousers, I demand them back. It’s not amusing!”

“Why do you think he stole your trousers, Mr. Crescent?” Kate asked.

“My valet, Bittens, said so.”

Christian followed Tom’s narrowed eyes to a man cowering in the corner. Bittens looked terrified.

“How does Bittens know?”

“He’s staying in a room with him and some other fellow.”

Mr. Wicket had said Elias, Benji, and Mr. Crescent’s valet were sharing one of the second-floor rooms.

“Why would he steal your trousers, though? Doesn’t it seem a bit obvious?”

Christian thought Kate’s comment made excellent sense.

“Who knows why servants do what they do. Thieves and liars, the lot.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed. He sounded just like Christian’s father. “A bold statement, Crescent. Especially seeing as you are outnumbered by those thieves and liars at the present moment.”

“They wouldn’t dare touch me,” he blustered, though his eyes darted uncomfortably around the room. “I want those trousers returned or I’ll hold the inn accountable.” He wagged a finger at Mr. Wicket and then huffed out of the room.

The innkeeper wrung his hands, muttering something about better times and easier guests.

Daisy sauntered into the tense atmosphere, not missing a beat. “Supper will be served in five minutes.”

Olivia Trent glided toward Christian. “Shall we sit together?”

Christian considered the offer. It had been so much fun to tweak Kate’s jealousy earlier using Olivia, but he had a feeling that too much of that and he would lose her entirely. And he wasn’t willing to let that happen yet.

As he opened his mouth to reply, Tiegs came swooping over. “Olivia, darling, didn’t you say you’d like to join me for supper and cards?”

Olivia gave Tiegs’s dangerous appearance and appealing expression a long, hard look, then stared back at Christian. She seemed to take the hint from Christian’s less than enthusiastic response and closed expression and accepted Tiegs’s arm and offer.

Tiegs shot Kate an amused look, then shifted it to Christian, his crooked smile growing broader. Christian had a feeling that Kate hadn’t fooled this man for a second. Kate seemed to realize it too as she tensed next to him.

Christian prodded her to a seat, ready to pester and harry her throughout the meal.

A silent agreement was made and the visitors at the Dragon’s Tale chose to discuss matters other than Janson’s death. After a pleasant dinner, Kate and Christian went to the inn office to report to Mr. Wicket. The innkeeper seemed distressed to hear that Freewater’s journal was missing (Christian
wasn’t happy with Kate for telling the innkeeper about the journal at all), and seemed to think that his inn was becoming a den of thievery, what with the recent trouser theft, didn’t they know?

Christian listened to Kate reassure the innkeeper for at least fifteen minutes before he put a hand on her arm and tugged her toward the door.

“Gordon still in the stables?” he asked the innkeeper.

Mr. Wicket gave a distracted nod. “Should be. For some reason he’s remained out there.”

Christian ignored the censorious look Kate gave him and thanked the innkeeper as he pulled a coat from the peg and tossed it to her.

“Where are we going?”

“We are just stopping in to say hello to our friend Gordon and to search for Janson’s bat.”

Her mouth formed an O and she hurried her pace as they walked through the now well-trod path.

Gordon grimaced upon seeing them. “Back again, are you?”

“Gordon, you are doing an excellent job. You wouldn’t have happened upon Mr. Janson’s cricket bat, by chance?”

Gordon’s brows drew together. “Can’t say that I
have. Strange, that. He never went anywhere without it. Could be buried beneath the straw.”

Christian nodded and walked to the stall where Janson’s body and belongings lay.

They didn’t find anything in the stall that they hadn’t seen before. Janson’s baggage had been as little as Desmond’s—mostly cricket equipment, and a change of clothing. No bat. Kate tensed, and Christian followed her gaze to where Tom was leaning against the stall door, chewing on a stick. The man had moved silently, but could challenge Tiegs’s bruisers for sheer bulk.

“Tom, is it? Did you hear or see anything the night of the murder?” Christian asked.

“Only that Janson got what ’e deserved.”

Kate shot Christian a look.

“Didn’t much like Julius Janson?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know anything about Janson’s death?”

“Nope.”

The man’s tone wasn’t idle, nor was it menacing; it was simply implacable.

“Would you tell us if you did?”

Tom turned and walked away.

“Well that was strange,” Kate murmured.

“Old Tom is always like that.”

Christian turned to see Gordon staring at the stiff body.

“Where does Tom stay?”

“Out here with me usually. Sometimes we switch on and off in the extra bed in Benji and Elias’s room.”

“So he was out here the night Janson died?”

“We were taking care of the horses and getting them ready for the next day. Holy days are especially busy coaching days.”

“Do you share a room? Did you see Tom leave?”

Gordon shrugged. “Tom does what Tom wants. Been with the inn since anyone can remember.”

“Did he leave any time during the night?”

He shrugged again. “Could be. Lots of noises in the night. You learn to ignore some and awaken for others.”

“But it snowed most of the early morning the night of Janson’s death. Wouldn’t that have muffled much of the outside noise, making it easier for you to know if Tom was out of bed?”

Gordon flushed and Christian went for the kill. “He was out of bed. You know he was. What are you trying to hide?”

“Nothing! I ain’t trying to hide nothing. So Tom might have been out of bed for some of that time. Doesn’t mean nothing. I was out of bed for part of
the night too, and I didn’t kill Janson. Tom didn’t neither.”

“I never said Tom did. But he may have helped. Someone dragged Janson’s body into the stables. Someone strong—strong enough to drag a grown man’s body through a snowbank. Tom is built like an ox.”

Gordon’s eyes went wide. Christian decided to leave him to think over that little tidbit.

“Come, Mr. Kaden. I think we found what we needed.”

Kate hurried into the courtyard after him. “Brilliant, Christian. You think there were multiple people involved? That makes a lot of sense. One to murder him and throw him over the railing, one to hide the body.”

Christian nodded. “We are still looking at two strong men working together. One or both must have panicked. It would have been wiser to leave the body where it landed. Would have looked like a drunken accident.”

“I suppose there is always Lake,” Kate said reluctantly. He had noticed Kate developing a soft spot for the man as the glances between Lake and Mary had started to change from shy to heated.

“Buck up, Kate. He may just be an innocent in this after all.”

Christian stopped abruptly and pulled Kate to the side of the inn and behind one of the sentinel pines as the aforementioned Mr. Lake walked out, followed closely by Mary.

“I won’t tell them what I heard.”

“You heard nothing, Lawrence.”

Lake stopped and put his fingers on her cheeks. “Mary, you were crying. I heard the sniffling.”

“You heard no such thing.” Mary didn’t try to break away from Lake’s caress.

“I want to know what he did to you. I know it is too late to avenge any other sins, but I still want to know. I love you, Mary.”

Christian watched twin tears run down Mary’s cheeks, only to be brushed away by Lake’s thumbs. “Oh, Lawrence. What are we to do?”

“Shhh. There now, I’ll take care of things. Let’s go talk to Tom.”

He wrapped an arm around her and led her to the stable.

Christian gave Kate a sardonic look. “They almost take the fun out of searching for the villain.”

Kate appeared sad. “You think they did it? Threw the body over?”

Christian stared pensively after the couple’s path. “Perhaps, but something just seems off.”

“They do have a motive,” Kate said reluctantly. “Should we follow them?”

“Probably. But I want to check with Freewater on the status of the journal. Somehow I don’t think Lake and Mary are going to be talking to Tom for very long—more likely they will be indulging in other pastimes. I also don’t think we would be able to spy on them without Tom or Gordon seeing us. I don’t know about you, but I am terrible at keeping hidden. Several pranks nearly cost me dearly at E—” He cleared his throat. “In my village. I can’t believe they didn’t see us when they exited the inn. Save me from fools in love.”

Kate gave him a dirty look.

He winked. “Not you, Kate. Feel free to fall in love with me at any time.”

“I think not,” she said tartly.

“You wound me, Kate, you really do.”

He knew he looked anything but wounded as she prodded him toward the door, but something tightened in his chest.

“I’m not sure how you think we are going to solve this murder when you aren’t willing to engage in a little eavesdropping.”

“Oh, but we don’t need to indulge in eavesdropping, Kate. Don’t you know who the guilty parties
are yet? It’s quite simple. But on to the journal, now there’s a puzzle.”

She pushed him inside.

They found Freewater in the common room upstairs along with Nickford, Desmond, Tiegs, Olivia, and Francine. The last four were playing cards at the round table, and Freewater was furiously scribbling in a book at the maple desk. Nickford was puttering around the fireplace, alternately poking about with the tools and taking measurements of the courtesy screen. Kate had no idea what he was doing, but hoped that he didn’t decide to abscond with the screen too. She was quite unlikely to keep her disguise if someone happened upon her using the chamber pot.

Tiegs’s two thugs were nowhere to be seen.

Desmond shot Christian a poisonous glare as Christian headed straight for Freewater’s corner.

She made it over in time to hear Christian ask so quietly that the other occupants in the room would have to strain to hear, “Have you recovered your journal, Freewater?”

Freewater looked up from his book, thoroughly distressed. “No, blast it. I haven’t so much as seen a book nearing its description. I need that book.”

His voice sounded desperate in the extreme.

“We are still looking for it. Hopefully we will have better news for you soon.” Christian shrugged nonchalantly.

“You get your head straight from your arse yet, Black?”

Kate groaned as Desmond’s narrowed eyes pierced Christian.

“Your mother was quite accommodating the other day with both, thanks Desmond.”

Desmond lunged from his seat, and only Tiegs succeeded in holding him from Christian’s throat.

Christian shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, such a temper. You should really rein it in. Wouldn’t want to give someone the impression that you are capable of murder, would you?”

“I’ll get you, Black! Just you wait! After I deal with that pansy Lake, it will be your head on the platter.”

Christian lazily stretched his fingers. “Have a tendre for Mr. Lake, do you? I’m not sure he’s interested in you, Desmond.”

Desmond’s struggles renewed with force. “I’ll kill you! You’re a dead man, Black.”

“Oh, Desmond, promises, promises.”

Christian strolled from the room, and Kate hurried after him until they were inside their own room.

“You really shouldn’t bait him, Christian. I know you like to pretend you are a Runner and above the law, but he could really hurt you.”