Late for the Wedding Page 4

  “Come.” Tobias tightened his grasp on Lavinia’s arm and steered her away from the scene.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I want to take a look at Fullerton’s bedchamber.”

  “Why? What do you expect to find?”

  “I have no notion.”

  Tobias stopped the partially dressed butler and asked him which room had been assigned to Lord Fullerton. The man gave him directions. Lord Beaumont, still quite agitated, trotted forward.

  “What is it, March?” he asked. “Has something else happened?”

  “No, sir,” Tobias said. “I merely wish to have a look around Fullerton’s bedchamber. Perhaps it would be best if you accompanied us.”

  It was a thinly veiled command, but Beaumont did not appear to be aware that he was being ordered about by a man who was his social inferior.

  “Yes, of course,” Beaumont said. He turned quickly and led the way back toward the house.

  When Tobias spoke in that deep, resonant, utterly sure voice, people tended to obey without question, Lavinia thought. He had an uncanny ability to assume command at times when others were dashing about mindlessly. She suspected that the subtle skill was more complex than he knew or would ever acknowledge.

  In the course of their last major investigation, an incident had occurred that had convinced her that Tobias possessed the raw, untrained talent of a powerful mesmerist. She was certain that the source of his abilities lay deep in that pool of midnight inside him. She was equally certain that he would never acknowledge those abilities, not even to himself. For reasons she did not fully comprehend, he had chosen to bury that side of his nature beneath several layers of stubborn logic and an iron will. Until he met her, he had labeled all mesmerists charlatans and frauds who preyed on the weak and the gullible.

  When he had discovered that she was trained in the art, his first reaction had been to dismiss her skills. Lately she had sensed his grudging acceptance of her abilities, but she was very well aware that he still preferred to ignore them as much as possible.

  Inside the castle, she and Tobias followed their host up the main staircase. Beaumont was breathing heavily by the time they reached the landing. He paused to catch his breath.

  A large number of guests milled about on this floor. One of them was a woman with lustrous brown hair bound up in a loose knot.

  Lavinia did not recognize her until she turned around. Aspasia had removed the black wig and cobra diadem, and she had changed into a heavily embroidered green silk dressing gown.

  She spotted Tobias and walked swiftly toward him.

  “What is going on?” she demanded in a low voice. “Everyone is saying that Fullerton fell from the roof and broke his neck.”

  “That seems to be the case,” Tobias said.

  Beaumont whipped out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He surveyed the flock of guests. “Terrible accident. Quite dreadful, actually. But I assure you that matters are in hand. The doctor is on his way. You may all return to your bedchambers.”

  Aspasia’s fine brows puckered in a small frown. Her lips parted on a question. Lavinia saw Tobias shake his head once in a small, silencing motion.

  Aspasia obediently closed her mouth.

  “You must excuse us,” Tobias said. “We are in a hurry. Lord Beaumont is taking us to Fullerton’s bedchamber.”

  Aspasia appeared startled, and then Lavinia saw a flicker of comprehension in her dark eyes.

  “Tobias?” Aspasia whispered in husky tones. “Do you think—”

  “I will speak with you later,” he said gently.

  “Yes, of course.” Aspasia moved gracefully out of the way. Her gaze rested thoughtfully on Lavinia.

  The moment of communication that had passed between Aspasia and Tobias was brief, Lavinia reflected as she accompanied the two men down the hall, but there was no mistaking the intimacy of it. Aspasia clearly felt that she had a claim of some sort on Tobias, and he, in turn, accepted some obligation toward her.

  If there was one thing that she had learned about Tobias during the past few months, Lavinia thought, it was that he took his perceived responsibilities very seriously.

  She glanced back just in time to see Aspasia disappear through a bedchamber door. It was a very familiar bedchamber door.

  Well, that was certainly one mystery solved tonight, she thought. She now knew why she had been summarily shifted upstairs to that unpleasant little room at the end of the hall. The housekeeper and butler had conspired to give her comfortable chamber on this floor to Aspasia Gray.

  Beaumont came to a halt in front of a door.

  “This was Fullerton’s bedchamber,” he announced.

  Tobias entered first. He lit a candle and surveyed the space. Then he crossed to the window and drew aside the curtains.

  Moonlight flooded into the chamber, adding to the weak illumination of the candle.

  Lavinia stepped in and looked around. The bedchamber was as large as the one Tobias had been given. The wide, heavily draped bed had been turned down in preparation for sleep. It was obvious that no one had used it. The sheets and pillows were still neatly arranged. The handle of a warming pan projected from beneath the edge of the quilt.

  “He asked her why they could not use his bed,” she murmured to Tobias. “He told her that it had been nicely warmed.”

  Tobias was busy opening and closing the drawers of the dressing table in a brisk, methodical fashion. He did not look up from his task. “What else did he say?”

  “He asked the maid why it was necessary to go all the way up to the roof.”

  Beaumont scowled from the doorway. “What’s this about a maid?”

  “When I saw Lord Fullerton earlier this evening,” Lavinia said, “he was in the company of a tall, blond maid. I gained the clear impression that they were on the way to the roof for some dalliance.”

  “Nonsense.” Beaumont’s whiskers bristled in genuine indignation. “Everyone in this household is aware that inappropriate intimacies between staff and guests are strictly forbidden. Lady Beaumont does not countenance that sort of thing.”

  Lavinia stopped in front of the night table and studied the assortment of small items arrayed on the polished wooden surface. “This maid seemed to be quite eager to oblige Fullerton. She was the one who suggested that they go upstairs to the roof rather than use his bedchamber.”

  “Rest assured, I shall have my butler look into the matter.” Beaumont broke off with a quizzical expression. “A tall, blond woman, you say? I don’t recall anyone on my staff who fits that description. Probably one of the local village girls taken on for the week. With so many guests in the house, extra maids are required.”

  “I see.” There was nothing unusual about the collection of items on the night table, Lavinia thought. She saw a candlestick, a pair of spectacles, and a ring.

  She went to the wardrobe and opened it. Tobias came to stand behind her with the candle. Together they surveyed the array of expensively cut garments.

  “I want to speak with the blond maid.” Tobias opened the drawers of the wardrobe, glancing briefly at carefully folded handkerchiefs and small clothes. “Will you ask your butler to locate her, sir?”

  “If you feel it is necessary.” Beaumont took a step back and then hesitated uncertainly. “What is it that concerns you about this situation, March?”

  “I would like to find out if Fullerton was still in the company of the maid when he fell to his death.” Tobias turned away from the wardrobe and went to the night table. He stood looking down at the objects on the surface. “Perhaps she can describe precisely what occurred.”

  “Very well, I shall go and have a word with Drum.” Beaumont swung around and disappeared down the hall, seemingly relieved to have another clear goal.

  Lavinia opened a trunk and looked inside. It was empty. All of the items that had been packed in it were no doubt hanging in the wardrobe. She closed the lid and looked at Tobias, who was in the process of going
down on one knee to peer beneath the bed.

  She saw his jaw tighten when he shifted his weight to his left leg, but she resisted the urge to ask him if he was in pain. He did not welcome constant inquiries on the subject of the injury he had sustained in Italy a few months earlier. The wound had long since healed, but she knew it still bothered him on occasion.

  “What on earth do you expect to find under there?” she asked instead.

  “How the devil should I know?” He finished his perusal of the floorboards, grasped a bedpost, and hauled himself back to his feet. “I believe we are finished here.” He massaged his left thigh impatiently. “Now for the roof.”

  “Tobias, what is this all about? You do not think that Lord Fullerton’s death was an accident, do you?”

  For a few seconds he looked as if he intended to evade the question. Then he shrugged. “I think he was murdered.”

  “I was afraid that you had concluded as much. But what leads you to believe that?”

  “It is a long story.” He headed for the door, taking the candle with him on a small stand. “One that I do not have time to go into just now.”

  He was putting her off again, she thought. But this was not the moment to argue the point.

  “Very well, but mark you, sir, I do intend to obtain a proper explanation from you at the earliest possible opportunity.”

  She found herself speaking to thin air. Tobias was already outside in the hall, moving toward the staircase.

  She was about to follow him, but something made her glance once more around the room they had just finished searching. Her eyes went to the night table. A pale wedge of moonlight illuminated the objects on the surface. It seemed to her that something had changed in the arrangement of the items.

  In the next breath she realized what the difference was. The ring was gone.

  An uneasy sensation fluttered across her nerves. Tobias was no thief. He had taken the ring for some very good reason, one that he had chosen not to confide to her or to Beaumont.

  Her partner had been acting in an exceedingly odd manner since his conversation with Aspasia Gray.

  “I really do not care for that woman,” she said aloud to the empty room.

  Chapter 5

  The servants’ floor mirrored the same scene of confusion, curiosity, and excited dread that Lavinia had seen on the lower floors. Small groups of people hovered in the narrow, low-ceilinged corridor, talking in soft voices.

  At the sight of Lavinia and Tobias, all conversation ended abruptly. Everyone turned to look at the intruders from the guest floors.

  Tobias focused on the nearest person, a young maid in her nightclothes.

  “Where are the stairs to the roof?” he demanded.

  The girl gasped and went as still as a rabbit confronted by a wolf. She gaped at Tobias, eyes widening with fear. She made several attempts to speak but only managed a meaningless stammer.

  “The roof, girl,” Tobias repeated, voice accented with faint echoes of impending doom. “Where is the bloody staircase?”

  Her companions retreated rapidly, leaving her to face Tobias alone.

  “Puh-puh-please, sir—” The girl stopped altogether when Tobias loomed closer. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

  Lavinia sighed. It was time to take charge.

  “Enough, sir.” She stepped between Tobias and the maid, who was now trembling visibly. “You are terrifying her. Allow me to deal with this.”

  Tobias came to a halt, clearly annoyed at having been deprived of his prey. He did not take his icy gaze off the shivering girl.

  “Very well,” he growled to Lavinia. “But be quick about it. There is no time to waste.”

  She did not blame the poor maid, Lavinia thought. Tobias was extremely intimidating at the moment. His attitude tonight put her in mind of the first time she had met him.

  She recalled the occasion quite vividly. On that fateful night in Rome, he had swept into the small antiquities shop she and her niece, Emeline, had operated and proceeded to smash every statue in sight. She had thought at first that he was a madman, but then she had seen the chilling intelligence in his eyes and realized that he knew precisely what he was about. Somehow that had only made him seem all the more menacing.

  “Calm yourself,” she said to the maid. She fingered the silver pendant at her throat and spoke in the low, soothing tones that she used when she wished to induce a light mesmeric trance. “Look at me. There is no need to be afraid. All is well. No need to be afraid. There is nothing to fear.”

  The girl blinked once or twice and tore her anxious gaze away from Tobias’s implacable face. She stared at the pendant.

  “What is your name?” Lavinia asked gently.

  “Nell. My name is Nell, ma'am.”

  “Very good, Nell. Now, where is the staircase that leads to the roof?”

  “At the end of the hall, ma'am. But Drum has instructed the staff not to go up onto the roof. He’s afraid someone might fall. The wall is very low, y'see.”

  “I understand.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lavinia saw Tobias move off down the hall, heading toward the staircase. She was about to follow, but she paused for one last question. “Do you know all of the members of the household staff, Nell?”

  “Yes, ma'am. We all come from the village or one of the farms.”

  The girl was talking freely now. There was no need to hold her attention with the pendant. Lavinia stopped manipulating the necklace.

  The maid blinked again and raised her eyes to meet Lavinia's.

  “Are you acquainted with a maid who is somewhat taller than yourself and perhaps a few years older? She has very bright blond hair. Lots of heavy corkscrew curls. This evening she wore a large cap trimmed with a blue ribbon. It looked new and it had a brim that was much wider than yours.”

  “A new cap with a blue ribbon?” Nell seized on what was evidently the most important aspect of the description. “No, ma'am. If one of us was lucky enough to get a new cap, we’d all know about it, I can tell ye that much.”

  “Are any of your companions tall and blond?”

  “Well, Annie’s tall but her hair is dark. Betty’s got yellow hair but she’s shorter than me.” The girl’s features knotted with concentration. “I can’t think of anyone quite like the girl you described.”

  “I see. Thank you, Nell. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Nell gave a tiny curtsy and cast an uncertain glance down the hall at Tobias, who was opening a door. She swallowed uneasily. “Will sir be wanting to ask more questions?”

  “Don’t be alarmed. If he wants to talk to you again, I will be sure to accompany him.”

  Nell looked relieved. “Thank ye, ma'am.”

  Lavinia went swiftly down the corridor. By the time she got to the staircase door, Tobias had already disappeared.

  Lacking a candle, she was obliged to feel her way up the narrow flight of steps. But when she reached the top, the door was open.

  She stepped out into the moonlight and saw Tobias at the low wall. He was looking down into the gardens. She walked toward him.

  “Is that the place where Fullerton fell?” she asked.

  “Yes, I think so. There are marks in the dirt on the wall here. Do you see them?”

  He raised the candle to angle the light across the barrier. There were several smears in the dust, soot, and grime that caked the stone. They certainly appeared to be traces left by a man grasping desperately to keep himself from plummeting to a certain death. A chill went through her.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I see.”

  “It would appear that the woman lured him up onto the roof.” Tobias paced deliberately along the wall. “You said Fullerton was quite drunk. He would no doubt have been unsteady on his feet. It would not have required much strength to topple him over the edge, merely careful timing.”

  “I know that for some reason you have yet to explain you are convinced this was murder,” she said quietly. “But
I have seen nothing yet that indicates it could not have been an accident.”

  “What of the tall, blond maid?”

  She hesitated. “Nell could not think of anyone who matched my description,” she admitted.

  He paused at that and looked at her. In the candlelight, his face had a decidedly sinister aspect. She could understand Nell’s reaction. If one were not well acquainted with Tobias when he was on the hunt, she thought, one would be strongly inclined to run for one’s life.

  “One of the guests, perhaps,” he said slowly. “Dressed in a costume that she wore to the ball earlier this evening?”

  She summoned up the brief glimpse she’d had of Fullerton’s female companion. “I do not think it was a costume that any of Beaumont’s guests would have worn to a ball. It was too ordinary, too realistic, if you see what I mean. The materials were not fine enough for any of the ladies here tonight. The gown was fashioned of a dull, sturdy fabric. The shoes, stockings, and apron looked very much like those worn by Beaumont’s chambermaids.”

  “Not a costume, then, but a true disguise,” he said slowly.

  “Tobias, I think it is time you told me precisely what is going on.”

  He said nothing for a moment, resuming his prowl of the rooftop instead. She knew that he was looking for other signs of what had taken place here a short time ago. She feared that he would attempt to avoid her question.

  But when he reached the far corner he began to speak.

  “I have told you that during the war I conducted several confidential inquiries for the Crown on behalf of my friend Lord Crackenburne.”

  “Yes, yes, I know that you were a spy, sir. Pray get to the meat of the matter.”

  “I prefer to avoid the term spy when discussing my former profession.” He leaned down to take a closer look at something he saw in the dust. “It has such unsavory connotations.”

  “I am well aware that the profession is not considered a proper career for a gentleman. But there is no need for either of us to mince words when we are alone like this. Indeed, you were a spy. I was obliged to engage in trade in order to survive in Rome. Neither of us possesses the sort of past one would wish to have made common knowledge in elevated social circles. But that is hardly important at the moment. Continue with your tale.”