A Lady of Letters (16 page)

"Getting right down to business again, I see." His arm had come up to rest on the back of the bench and she could feel the brush of the soft wool against the silk of her gown.

"Why else would we be out here?" she snapped. Her fingers finally found the folded sheets of paper and handed them over. He slipped them into his coat pocket but made no move to rise.

Augusta brushed at a stray curl that had fallen near her cheek. "I have been thinking a good deal about who might wish you harm, sir. Do you still believe we may eliminate disgruntled husbands or lovers?"

The Earl nodded.

"Well, that should narrow the field of suspects considerably," she said dryly.

He choked down a bark of laughter.

"I assume you don't cheat at cards or welch on your vowels, so we can ignore that line of inquiry as well. So, the most obvious thing is to assume that your recent speeches may have done more than ruffle a few feathers."

There was a gleam of grudging approval in his eyes. "That's very astute of you, Miss Hadley. I'm impressed by the power of your logic."

"I should hope I am not quite as witless as you have been wont to think," she mumbled, once again chiding herself for letting a casual compliment throw her insides in a tizzy, as if she were no more that the greenest of girls rather than an over the hill bluestocking.

"It's been some time since I thought that," he replied softly. His expression turned rather inscrutable before he went on. "I must admit that I have come to the same conclusion—unless, of course, the stone was meant for you."

She started. "For me?"

"I am not trying to frighten you, merely point out that if you continue to break into houses, purloin papers and the like, someone may take it amiss. As you said this afternoon, this investigation of yours could turn out to be very dangerous."

"I am aware of the risks involved, my lord. But I don't frighten easily."

"No, I don't imagine you do." There was a brief pause. "Now, let me exercise my own intuitive powers, if I may. Since the odds of our chance encounter being simple coincidence seems slim, I must assume that certain evidence has led both of us to suspect the same man."

Augusta gave a slight nod. "Go on."

"Well, as that is the case, perhaps it would be more efficient if one of us takes over from here, keeping the other person informed, of course, as to what information is discovered—"

"That ‘someone' being yourself?"

"Well, er, yes." He shifted slightly. "However, you would have to tell me exactly what crime you suspect the gentleman we seek is guilty of, and why, so that I may know just what it is I am trying to help you prove."

She thought for a moment. "What sort of crime do you think him guilty of?"

The Earl sidestepped the question. "I am looking into his affairs at the behest of a ... friend."

"Why?" she persisted.

He drew in a breath. "I am not at liberty to say right now." He forbore to add it was because he did not know the full details himself. "You are not the only one who wishes to be careful in this matter."

"So you are offering to take all the risks and share with me what you learn?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Once again, I must ask why." The corners of her mouth crooked upward. "It is not as if we are even... friends, sir."

"No, but as I have told you, Edwin and I were."

At the mention of her brother's name, Augusta's throat suddenly became very tight. "I—" The crunch of gravel and the faint trill of laughter warned of the approach of another couple. "I must think on it"

"Do."

She got quickly to her feet. "We had best be getting back, lest people begin to get the wrong idea."

He rose as well, a slight smile on his face. "Afraid your reputation shall end up shredded by the gossips?"

"Oh, it is not my reputation I am worried about, my lord, it's yours," she said over her shoulder as she started up the path. "Imagine how much your consequence would suffer at your clubs and other.... establishments if word were to get out that you'd been keeping company with an aging antidote."

Marianne scrunched up her face in a scowl.

"Don't do that," murmured Augusta. "You'll end up with wrinkles around your eyes, just like Mrs. Winslow."

"Mrs. Winslow has been making that face for nearly sixty years, so I imagine I have a good way to go before I need fear such a dire consequence." She kept her gaze riveted on Augusta and closed the book in her lap. "You are keeping something from me, Gus. And don't say you aren't, for you know I can always tell."

Augusta squirmed slightly under her sister's scrutiny. "It's not anything you need concern yourself with. Really." She cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation away from her recent behavior. "Did you enjoy last night? Viscount Andover seemed particularly attentive and—"

Her sister let out a single word.

"I, er, wasn't aware you were familiar with that expression."

"You weren't the only one to overhear Edwin when he was angry." Marianne's scowl deepened. "And don't try to change the subject. I want you to tell me whatever it that has you muttering under your breath more than usual. Maybe I can be of some help."

Augusta gave a reluctant laugh that turned into a wry grimace. "The Earl of Sheffield for one thing."

"I thought the two of you had agreed to stay at arm's length."

"I'm afraid we have lately been a good deal closer than that," she murmured, a warmth stealing over her on recalling the feel of his muscled limbs and the faint, woodsy scent of his lean cheek.

Marianne stared at her with dawning horror. "Good heavens! You aren't going to tell me that the other night was no accident and it was you who beaned him with the paving stone?"

"Of course not! I would never stoop to such a cowardly act."

"Actually that's right. You would face him square on and hurl it dead at his forehead."

"I wouldn't miss, either. But in this case, it really was an... accident." She began to fiddle with the pen on her desk. "Besides, he is...." Her words cut off abruptly. "Lamb, I really think it is best if you pay no attention to what is on my mind and go about enjoying your Season." A fond smile flitted over her lips. "It's clear you shall have your choice of—"

The spine of the leatherbound volume nearly split in two as it bounced off the floor. "Why, that's quite the most odious thing you've ever said to me in your life!" cried Marianne with some vehemence, springing to her feet and almost toppling the delicate gilt chair into the fire in the process. The shade of crimson mottling her cheeks was a perfect match of the embroidered cherries on the sash of her stylish day gown. In truth, the gown would have looked even more elegant had a good deal of it not been scrunched within two fists." That you would tell me to run along and play while you are faced with a difficult problem is outside of enough. I'm eighteen, not eight, and while I'm not as learned as you, I am not entirely lacking in wits. Let me help."

Augusta's face was ashen. "You know I didn't mean it that way," she said in a shaky voice. "What I meant was, I don't want to involve you in something that could prove... dangerous in any way. If my reputation suffers, it hardly matters, but I should never forgive myself if I caused any hurt to you." Her mouth quirked slightly upward. "And neither would Mama."

Her sister appeared a bit mollified by the explanation, but she continued to pace up and down in front of the hearth. "You needn't be like everyone else and treat me like a piece of delicate china. I'll not chip or crack at the slightest knock." Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "And just what did you mean by ‘dangerous' and harmful?' Now that I think on it, Jamison has been going about with an air of martyrdom that usually means you have done something particularly outrageous. Just what have the two of you been up to?"

Augusta hesitated.

"Out with it. And don't forget the part about Lord Sheffield."

"Sheffield! How did you know about—" She bit her lip at the triumphant gleam in her sister's eye. "Lord, since when did you learn to extract information in such a devious, underhanded fashion?"

Marianne repressed a smug smile. "Why, since watching you in action. Anyway, it was hardly difficult to guess that something was going on. First you are going at it with him like cats and dogs, then suddenly he is calling on you for afternoons drives, and escorting you for lengthy walks in moonlight gardens. You have to admit, it looks extremely havey cavey."

"Maybe he is smitten with my person."

"Well, I admit that could be a distinct possibility. But what made me suspicious was not his actions, but yours. You actually agreed to go with him."

A burble of laughter escaped Augusta's lips. "I shall never underestimate your deductive reasoning again." A sigh followed. "Very well. I suppose I had better tell you the whole of it."

The lengthy story was interrupted by more than a few exclamations, accompanied by a battery of dark looks. "I can't believe you fobbed me off with that story about a headache," exclaimed Marianne when it was finished. "I should have known!" She gave her skirts another yank as she turned to face the desk. "Were you truly not going to tell me about those papers you took?"

"Well..."

"How could you think of concealing their existence from me! You know I was of some help in putting together the list in the first place. Let me see what I can make of them."

"I can't." As her sister's mouth fell open to protest, she explained, "I gave them to Sheffield."

"Oh." A speculative look came to Marianne's cornflower blue eyes. "I see."

Augusta gave a slight cough. "Well, he was actually rather helpful in the library. And since the information I need to learn now can be obtained much easier by a gentleman, I suppose I may as well try to make some use of the Earl."

"I see."

"I mean, he has shown he isn't put off by a few little knocks and scratches, and it also seems that he is not entirely lacking in sense."

"I see."

"Stop saying that," she muttered while making a show of rearranging the papers on her desk.

Her sister turned to hide the slight smile that crept across her delicate features. "I must say, I am glad that you have finally discovered that a handsome, titled gentlemen may be of some use. He waltzes quite nicely, too."

Augusta's face turned not quite as red as the cherries, but close. The muttering under her breath was barely audible, but the sound of the pen snapping in her fingers made a distinct crack. "Does he? I hadn't noticed."

It was Marianne's turn to laugh. "Now don't fly up in the boughs. I am just teasing you."