The Nobody: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) (17 page)

Lord Kilverton, meanwhile, went directly to Half Moon Street, inadvertently beginning a train of speculation in the mind of Lady Lynwood’s butler.

Stubbs would never so far forget himself as to betray either his suspicion or his disapproval, of course, but it was uncommon odd for his lordship to be visiting at all—and to be asking for Miss Campbell, rather than her ladyship—well, it was hard to put an innocent construction on that, wasn’t it? Not to mention that the gentleman had A Certain Look about him, as Stubbs confided later in the privacy of the housekeeper’s office.

“Crossed in love, Mrs. Hopper, or I miss my guess!” said Stubbs impressively.

“Go on with you, then!” chided Mrs. Hopper, pouring the butler a second cup of tea. “You never saw this Lord Kilverton above twice in your life, Mr. Stubbs, and for all you know that’s his natural expression.”

“Well, then, he’s mad as a hatter,” averred Stubbs. “And pale as a panada, to boot! No, Mrs. Hopper, I know a gentleman what’s been crossed in love when I sees one. Had you seen him, you’d say the same.”

“And do you ask me to believe Miss Campbell has encouraged Lord Kilverton to dangle after her? Why, his lordship is engaged to the Duke of Arnsford’s eldest!” Mrs. Hopper was an avid reader of the society columns. “I’ll never believe such a thing of Lady Lynwood’s own niece, Mr. Stubbs, and I’m ashamed of you for thinking it.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing against the gel,” said Stubbs, aggrieved. “But what am I to think when a strange gentleman arrives all in a pother, hammers on the door like one demented, and instead of enquiring for her ladyship, as he
should
do, asks to see this Miss Campbell? I put it to you, Mrs. Hopper: How does it look? And does she refuse to see the gent? No! Ties on her bonnet and steps out with him, if you please! And off they go, a-walking to the Green Park!” Stubbs shook his head slowly. “It don’t look right, Mrs. Hopper. That’s all I’m saying!”

The housekeeper stirred her tea, pondering this information. “Perhaps Lady Serena had an important message for her particular friend, and sent it through her brother.”

Stubbs gave a snort of derision. “Why should they step out together like it’s a great secret? A deuced long message, that! They were gone above an hour!”

Mrs. Hopper was incredulous. “Well, I never—! Are you sure, Mr. Stubbs?”

“Above an hour, I say, and very nearly two! I let them out, and I let them in. Well above an hour, or my name ain’t Bob Stubbs. Which it is!” He leaned forward meaningfully. “And the way he looked when he arrived wasn’t nothing to the way he looked when he left! Blue as megrim, Mrs. Hopper!”

“Then you may depend upon it, Miss Campbell gave your fine gentleman his comeuppance.” Mrs. Hopper nodded comfortably. “Left with his tail between his legs, did he? That’ll teach him to come sniffing round a respectable female!”

Stubbs scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it didn’t strike me that way. Not quite that way. In fact, if you was to ask me, Miss Campbell herself looked as queer as Dick’s hat-band. She sent him off, all right and tight, but she didn’t look any too happy to see him go, Mrs. Hopper. She went to the parlor and watched him walk away. Sat at the window, she did. Watched him all the way to the end of the street. I stepped away for a bit, and when I come back, there she was, still a-sitting at the window and a-staring down the street. And him gone for ten minutes or more! I says to her, ‘Can I get you anything, miss?’ and she says to me—”

They were interrupted by a pattering knock on Mrs. Hopper’s door followed by the breathless entrance of Jane. She bobbed a nervous curtsy when she saw Stubbs closeted with her supervisor.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Hopper—Mr. Stubbs—”

Mrs. Hopper beckoned her forward. “That’s all right, Jane. What is it?”

Jane’s eyes were big as saucers. “It’s Miss Campbell, mum! She’s asking to have her trunks brought down from the attic. She’s going back to Hertfordshire, mum! Did you ever?”

The housekeeper’s startled eyes met Mr. Stubbs’s over their teacups. Mr. Stubbs nodded with great satisfaction, forgetting in the excitement of the moment to maintain his dignity before Jane.

“There, now! What did I tell you?” he exclaimed. “Crossed in love, Mrs. Hopper—the both of them!”

Chapter XX

L
ady Lynwood was not fond of rain under the best of circumstances. All Saturday morning it rained, and she found herself feeling more and more cast down. Caitlin’s abrupt departure had thrown a pall of gloom over the household, and now the weather trapped her ladyship in the morning room with Emily. She tried to recruit her spirits with a novel from the lending library, but Lady Lynwood had never been much of a reader. The heroine’s improbable adventures completely failed to divert her attention from the cares and disappointments pressing upon her. When she realized she had been reading the same sentence over and over for several minutes, she gave up. Emily looked up from her needlework as her aunt flung the book down with a sigh.

“I do not understand why Caitlin left us!” exclaimed Lady Lynwood pettishly, for perhaps the twentieth time.

“She felt she could not stay, Aunt.”

“Yes, but
why
? It’s nonsensical! Pretending Amabel needs her to help with Nicky—such stuff! I have two boys of my own, and it’s my belief they’re all the same. When James broke his arm, do you think he would let us cosset him? Well, he wouldn’t! And no more will Nicky, you mark my words. She’ll go home to find she’s not wanted in the least. And if she
was
wanted, wouldn’t Amabel have said so in her letter?”

Emily’s lip trembled. Caitlin had confided to her the real reasons for her departure. It was difficult—and rather dreadful—to keep secrets from Aunt Harriet, but Emily had to agree that it was better to hide all knowledge of Caitlin’s illicit romance from their aunt if they could. Aunt Harriet would be so distressed!

Emily sincerely pitied her sister. She had herself recently learned something of the power of love, and knew how inexplicably it could bind two people together. Emily tried to imagine what she would have done, had Captain Talgarth been betrothed when she met him. The idea made her shudder.

The butler stepped into the morning room, and Lady Lynwood brightened. A visitor was just what she needed. She believed she would welcome Bonaparte himself on a day like today! However, Stubbs’ announcement, although not so dramatic, caused her ladyship’s face to crumple into an expression of dismay. Lady Serena Kilverton had arrived, asking for Miss Campbell. Ought he to show her up?

“Oh, dear! Yes, of course—at once, Stubbs.” As Stubbs bowed himself out, Lady Lynwood straightened her cap distractedly. “How excessively provoking! I wish Caitlin had left a note for Lady Serena. I do think she might have thought of that. Whatever are we to say to her?”

Emily had paled a little, but replied with composure. “We have only to tell her what happened, Aunt.” Emily devoutly hoped she would have the presence of mind to reveal nothing of the truth to Lord Kilverton’s sister. Somehow it struck her as a very different matter, and much more difficult, than keeping the secret from Aunt Harriet.

Serena entered the room with her usual briskness, bringing the smell of rain with her. Her cheeks were pink with cold. “Oh, what a lovely fire!” she exclaimed, rubbing her hands with delight. “This rain is delicious, though, isn’t it? I do love a cold snap after it’s been so warm.”

Lady Lynwood was so very far from agreeing that she was thrown even further into disorder. She clucked and fluttered vaguely, leaving Emily to shake hands and settle their visitor on the sofa.

Emily picked up her needlework again, blushing a little as she spoke. “I am sorry Caitlin is not here to receive you, Lady Serena. She will be so vexed to learn that you ventured out in all this weather to call on her, only to find her gone.”

Serena paused in the act of brushing raindrops from her sleeve. “Gone! How is this? She said nothing to me.”

Emily found it difficult to meet Serena’s gaze, and bent quickly over her sewing. “Well, it was quite sudden, you see. Our brother, Nicholas, has broken his arm and Caitie felt she could be useful to Mama.”

“Do you mean she has gone to
Hertfordshire
?” demanded Serena, astonished. “In the middle of the Season?”

“I daresay she may return before long.” Emily blushed at her own untruthfulness, but tried to speak lightly. “After all, Rosemeade is only half a day’s journey from town.”

Lady Serena’s sentiments now seemed to coincide so exactly with her own that Lady Lynwood’s sense of ill-usage returned in full force. She rushed into agitated speech. “You are thinking how excessively odd it is, Lady Serena, and I must say, I perfectly agree! I thought she was fixed here for another three or four weeks, at the least. Why,
everyone
is! And it isn’t as if she went to Brighton, or even Bath. She’s gone off, all in a quack, to Hertfordshire! Well! It presents a very off appearance if you ask me—which, however, nobody did. Anyone would suppose Nicky to be on his last legs, and it’s nothing of the kind! In fact, it’s not his legs at all, it’s only his arm—but that’s all of a piece! Or, rather, I suppose it’s not all of a piece, because it’s broken—but that’s neither here nor there! Well, of course it’s
there
, actually, but it certainly isn’t
here
, and now Caitlin is
there
, when she ought to be
here
, and I, for one, simply cannot understand it.”

“Yes, but it all sounds like a hum,” objected Serena, as soon as Lady Lynwood stopped for breath. “After all—”

“Oh, no, Lady Serena, I’m afraid it’s not a
hum
, although I am not precisely certain what that signifies. I would be very glad to believe it is all a hum, but I daresay Nicky
has
broken his arm, for what purpose could Amabel have in deceiving us all? And I cannot believe they would be mistaken about such a thing, for a broken bone is nothing like a sore throat, which could be anything at all, but my point is: what does Caitlin mean to do about it? She’s not a surgeon! And even if she
were
, which, as I say, she is not, I daresay everything was done that could be done for Nicky a week ago, and very likely more!” Lady Lynwood began ticking the days off on her fingers. “Amabel wrote on Wednesday, you know, so I suppose Nicky broke his arm last Monday or Tuesday, or even earlier than that, because the house would have been at sixes and sevens when it first happened and I cannot imagine Amabel sitting down to dash off a letter in the midst of a domestic crisis. We had her letter Thursday morning, and Caitlin left yesterday afternoon, and of course today is Saturday, so Nicky would be—”

“Forgive me, but I don’t perfectly understand you,” interrupted Serena. “If you received the letter Thursday morning, and Caitlin considered the news to be so grave, why did she not leave until Friday afternoon?”

Lady Lynwood’s jaw dropped. “That
is
odd!” she exclaimed. “Most extraordinary! Why, she was completely calm when we read the letter, was she not, Emily? She never said anything on Thursday about wanting to go home, did she? Fancy! She didn’t say anything Friday morning, either—although she did look a little peculiar. Do you recall that, Emily love? We both remarked on it. She wasn’t herself at all. And then all of a sudden, that afternoon, she decides she must go home. I wonder if that was what she was discussing with Lord Kilverton? You know, I often feel the lack of male advice in my life these days, and I suppose Caitlin does, as well. Men have such excellent, practical notions! I fancy she discussed it with him, and he advised her to go.”

Now it was Serena’s jaw that dropped a little. “You think she discussed it with
my brother
?”

Lady Lynwood nodded, pleased to find herself understood. “That must have been it. For why else would he call? He had certainly never called here before.”

Serena, thoroughly mystified, turned to Emily for enlightenment. The state Emily appeared to be in increased Serena’s bewilderment. She was plying her needle with an assiduousness belied by her trembling hands, and the face bent over her work was scarlet.

“Emily, what on
earth
—”

“Oh, pray, Serena, do not ask me!” gasped Emily, pressing her hands over her burning cheeks. And to the amazement of both Serena and Lady Lynwood, Emily rose and fled.

A short time later Serena burst into her father’s library in high dudgeon. Just as she had guessed, her brother and Mr. Montague both were present, poring over the racing forms. They looked up in surprise as Serena flung open the door and glared at them, her small hands balled into fists. Mr. Montague unconsciously touched his cravat and straightened in his chair, but these telltale signs were lost on Serena. She was far too angry to notice, and she was not looking at him.

“Richard, what have you done to Caitlin Campbell?” she asked fiercely. “Has that
poisonous
fiancée of yours finally succeeded in driving her away? I know perfectly well what Elizabeth has been saying, but it’s all utter
rot
, and at any rate I won’t have you repeating it to Caitlin!”

Ned rose to his feet with aplomb, bowing gracefully. “Serena, my dear, how delightful to see you! Do come and join us,” he suggested. “Do you fancy Jack-Come-Tickle-Me or Mother Goody in the fourth?”

“What? Oh, sit down, Ned, for heaven’s sake,” Serena said, but her lips twitched and her expression lost a little of its heat. He obeyed her solemnly.

The
Weekly Dispatch
, meanwhile, had slid from her brother’s grasp. “What happened?” he demanded. “Is Miss Campbell all right?” The intensity in Richard’s voice caused Ned’s eyebrows to fly up in surprise, but although he cast a rather searching glance at his friend, he said nothing.

Serena flung her gloves onto the library table with much the same gesture as one issuing a challenge. “She has gone home to Rosemeade, and I know perfectly well she had no plans to do so. You may as well tell me the truth, Richard! She decided to leave only after speaking with you yesterday, so I am certain it was something you said that caused her to go. She told her aunt some farradiddle about her mother needing her. Well, I wasn’t deceived! It’s my belief Emily knows why Caitlin left, but she won’t say anything—when I tried to tax her with it, she ran out of the room! Now, why on earth would you call on Caitlin? And why would she consent to see you alone? There’s some mystery here, and I will
scream
if you don’t tell me what it is!”

“Can’t have that!” said Ned promptly. “Bradshaw would summon the watch, and we’d all end up in the roundhouse. Beg you will sit down, Serena!”

Serena tossed her hat to join her gloves, and sank into a chair across from the two men. Her anger muted into anxiety.

“I cannot believe Caitlin would leave town without a word to me.” Serena gazed solemnly into the hazel eyes so like her own. “I’m sorry if I offended you by calling your fiancée poisonous, but I’m afraid my first thought was that she’s done something to drive Caitlin away. You must be aware that Elizabeth has taken Caitlin in dislike for some reason. She has tried for weeks to persuade me to cut the acquaintance. I can’t begin to tell you how vicious she’s been, how persistent! And Caitlin has done nothing whatsoever to incur such enmity.”

Serena leaned forward earnestly, placing a beseeching hand over her brother’s. “Caitlin is a perfectly
splendid
girl, Richard. I wish you knew her! It is impossible to believe anything bad about her once one is truly acquainted with her. I can’t bear it if Elizabeth has used my own brother to hurt Caitlin in some way.”

A queer little laugh escaped Lord Kilverton. “You need not seek to convince me, Serena. I am perfectly ready to believe Miss Campbell a paragon among women.” He rose suddenly and walked to the window, apparently struggling with some strong emotion. “I wish I could offer you an explanation,” he said at last. “The truth is, I did not know Miss Campbell would leave the metropolis. I promise you, Serena, that was not my object in speaking to her yesterday.”

“Then why did she go?” demanded Serena.

Kilverton turned to face them, his face suddenly haggard. “I do not know.”

“What a rapper! It’s clear you know
something.
”

“What I do know, I am not at liberty to divulge.”

“Well!” gasped Serena, affronted. “Anyone would suppose you were employed in espionage!”

However, all her urgings failed to induce her brother to confide in her. Mr. Montague eventually escorted Serena from the room, recommending her kindly not to tease Richard to tell her a secret that anyone but a peagoose could see involved someone other than himself. Serena took exception to this, declaring her conviction that if it was Caitlin who had a secret, she herself would be in possession of it. But she finally consented to go, having expressed the opinion that when she lay on her deathbed—in Bedlam, no doubt—Richard would be Excessively Sorry that he had not trusted her!

Ned followed her, but paused with his hand on the latch. “You’ll be wishing me at the devil, old fellow, so I’ll take myself off. No, no, do not apologize! I’ve no wish to intrude on what is clearly not my affair. But if you think of a way I can assist you—or Miss Campbell—you’ll find me at my lodgings in Clarges Street.”

Kilverton’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Much obliged to you, Ned.” He smiled faintly. “As you have no doubt guessed, I am in the devil of a coil.”

Mr. Montague nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. “I have guessed what the trouble is, of course—but, for your sake, I hope I am wrong.” And with that Parthian shot, he exited.

Kilverton spent the greater part of the afternoon cudgeling his brain in a futile attempt to decide what was best to do. His immediate inclination, sternly suppressed, was to post instantly to Hertfordshire. He knew that would be useless, however, In fact, the longer he thought, the more he understood Caitlin’s course of action. It was depressingly clear to him that unless he prevailed upon Elizabeth to change her mind, Miss Campbell’s company would be torture and the pursuit of her acquaintance folly.

An evening spent staring into the fire, and a sleepless night, resulted in a decision. Kilverton would post off to Hertfordshire after all—to seek the advice of his maternal grandmother, Lady Colhurst. Lady Colhurst was a needlewitted, sharp-tongued octogenarian with a great fondness for him. If a way out of his difficulties existed, her shrewd common sense would find it.