Sleepless at Midnight (7 page)

“I went to the drawing room in search of you, to give you my report. You weren’t there, which was quite unsociable of you, by the way. One thing led to another and I ended up playing both whist and backgammon.”

“You detest whist and backgammon,” said Matthew, joining Daniel near the fire, where his friend had settled in an overstuffed brocade chair with a generous brandy.

“That was before you filled your house with an array of beautiful women.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, those beautiful women are supposed to be here for me,” Matthew said dryly.

“Well, someone has to keep them occupied and watch out for your interests while you’re hidden away. Especially since you saw fit to invite both Berwick and Logan Jennsen, not to mention Thurston and Hartley. All notorious charmers, you know. What in God’s name were you thinking?”

“That it would appear damn odd if my house party guests were all female. I’d actually only planned to invite you and Jennsen, but Berwick sent a note last week hinting he’d like to visit, as he’d be traveling through the area. As I thought it would be churlish to refuse an acquaintance of such long standing, I extended the invitation.”

“What about Thurston and Hartley?”

“They tagged along with Berwick.”

“Well, the lot of them were circling your female guests like vultures around carrion.”

“At least they’ll entertain the ladies, which allows me some time to do what I must.” A cynical sound escaped him. “As I have the highest ranking title amongst all of them, I’m not overly concerned that I’ll lack for a willing bride. The title of Marchioness of Langston is a powerful lure.”

“True. Still, I managed to keep the vultures from swooping in and instantly issuing marriage offers. You can thank me later. As your oldest and dearest friend, I am, as always, pleased to assist you.”

“You are, indeed, the soul of helpfulness.”

Daniel shook his head and made a tsking sound. “I detect sarcasm in your voice, Matthew, and can only say you shall be sorry after I tell you that I’ve spent my game-playing time well, digging up information for you. In fact, my inquiries will greatly narrow down your search.”

“Excellent. Anything that will save me time is welcome. But first, I want to hear what you learned in the village. Did you speak with Tom?”

Daniel shook his head. “No. I went to the smithy only to find it closed. I then went to the Willstone cottage where I spoke to Tom’s wife. Mrs. Willstone said she didn’t know where her husband was. Based on her pale face and reddened eyes, it was clear she’d been crying.”

“When had she last seen him?”

“Yesterday evening, just before he left to take a walk. Mrs. Willstone said Tom suffers from headaches and the cool night air helps. When he hadn’t returned by the time the storm hit, she supposed he’d taken refuge somewhere to wait out the rain. Said it wouldn’t be the first time such has happened. Even so, he’s always home by morning, rain or not, to open the smithy.”

“But not this morning,” Matthew said.

“Correct. She’d just said that she couldn’t imagine where he was when her brother entered the room. His name is Billy Smythe and I subsequently learned from further inquiries while in the village that he’s a former soldier who recently moved into the Willstone cottage and started working in the smithy with Tom.”

“And was Billy able to shed any light on Tom’s whereabouts?”

“He certainly offered an interesting theory. According to Billy, Tom was out chasing a lightskirt. And he did not sound happy about it. Didn’t like that his sister was worried and that he’d been left to do all the work at the smithy.”

“He told you this in front of his sister?”

“Yes. She insisted Billy was wrong, and he insisted she was being a fool. Said he’d arrived in Upper Fladersham nary a fortnight ago and had already heard the rumors about Tom. He then went on to promise that when Tom finally drags his arse home from this last dalliance, he’ll be made to understand that it was just that his last dalliance.” Daniel swirled his brandy around his snifter.

“Can’t say I blame him.”

“Nor I. Did either of them say anything else?”

Daniel shook his head. “Under the guise of you wanting to hire Tom for some intricate ironwork, I extracted a promise from Mrs. Willstone to have him contact you here as soon as possible. I then spoke to a few other shopkeepers, none of whom had seen Tom since the previous day.”

Matthew nodded slowly, staring into his brandy, then raised his gaze to Daniel’s. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

Not a trace of pity showed in his friend’s eyes, but Matthew knew it was only because Daniel would keep his expression purposefully blank. Daniel knew why he never ventured into the village, and he was a good enough friend to never mention the reason. “You’re welcome. Based on what I’ve told you, do you think it was Tom’s presence you sensed last night?”

“I suppose so. I felt, very strongly, that someone was nearby, and he was there.” Matthew supposed he should have been satisfied with what Daniel had discovered that apparently Tom’s reason for being out last night was no more sinister than a walk to relieve a headache, and perhaps an ache of a different sort.

Yet something didn’t sit right. It was odd that Tom hadn’t returned home, especially since he’d been heading in the direction of the village when Matthew had seen him. Perhaps he’d stopped somewhere else? Another cottage in another village? Perhaps he’d had a horse nearby and traveled a greater distance?

With no ready answers, he had no choice but to do as Mrs. Willstone was doing wait for Tom to return home.

His thoughts were interrupted when Daniel said, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t you want to know what else I discovered, with regards to your houseguests?”

“Yes, of course.”

Clearly satisfied that he once again had Matthew’s attention, Daniel said, “Before I tell you, I wish to hear your impressions of the lovely ladies you invited to your house party which, by the way, would be more of a party if you actually joined in the festivities.”

Matthew shrugged. “They’re all…acceptable.”

“But surely after spending the evening with them you must have formed some opinion. What about Lady Emily?”

Matthew considered for several seconds, then said, “She is very pretty.”

“And Lady Julianne?”

“Very beautiful.”

“Viscountess Wingate?”

“Stunning.”

Daniel studied him over the rim of his snifter. “That’s all you have to say?”

Matthew shrugged. “I discussed the weather with Lady Emily. She doesn’t like the cold. Nor the rain. Nor too much sun she freckles dreadfully, you know. Lady Julianne and I discussed Dinstory’s annual musicale, which we’d both attended last Season. She enjoyed it thoroughly, while I fell asleep and nearly concussed myself when I leaned sideways in my chair and clunked my head against the wall.

“The viscountess and I began a more promising discussion on the merits of household pets, although she prefers the sort of tiny yappy dogs that cause Danforth to look at me with his most long-suffering gaze.”

He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “So, as I said, each of them are acceptable. None grabbed my attention more than the other. So certainly tell me if you have information that could tip the scales one way or another.”

Daniel nodded. “Very well. But first let me begin by saying that you’ve gone about this in entirely the wrong way. You want a wife ”

“Correction. I need a wife. A very specific sort of wife.”

“Precisely. You need an heiress. Which is why, instead of inviting all these lovely young ladies here, the sort who can deplete a man’s patience and strength, you should have invited some older heiresses. Much older. The sort who don’t require new gowns every half hour. The sort who are grateful for whatever attention you give, rather than pouting when they feel neglected. In my expert opinion, if a man must have a wife, then the perfect wife is one who is one hundred years old and worth one hundred thousand pounds. And if she doesn’t speak English, so much the better. And don’t worry about her less than stellar, wizened appearance. Remember this, my friend: beauty is only a few blown-out candles away. All women look the same in the dark.”

After casting that last pearl of wisdom, Daniel raised his snifter in salute, then downed the contents in a single swallow.

“Unfortunately, a one-hundred-year-old bride won’t do, as I need to provide an heir,” Matthew said lightly. “And I had no idea you were such an expert on the subject of choosing a wife. Especially as you don’t have one.”

“Just because I don’t have a wife doesn’t mean I don’t know the characteristics of a good one. Believe me, you will not be happy with some chit who expects you to dance attendance upon her.”

“I’ve no intention of dancing attendance upon anyone. I need money, a great deal of it, and I need it quickly. My intention is to simply choose the least troublesome heiress I can find, one who will not disrupt my life. Then, after the nuptials, I’ll embark on the monumental task of settling the estate’s debts and making it profitable once more.”

“I’ve told you that I’ll make you a loan ”

Matthew cut off his friend’s quiet words by raising his hand. “Thank you, Daniel. I appreciate the offer, but no. The amount I owe is far too great. Even for your deep pockets.”

“You mean the amount your father owed.”

Matthew shrugged. “His debt became mine when he died.”

“Sins of the father,” Daniel murmured, the bitter twist to his mouth marring his usual easygoing good looks. “Still, there’s no reason why you have to marry so bloody quickly. Take some time, at least to find an heiress you find tolerable.”

Matthew shook his head. “My time has run out.”

“Then perhaps you should have spent more time during the last year actually looking for this wife you’re determined to have rather than burying yourself here, looking for something impossible to find. Something that most likely doesn’t even exist.”

“Most likely you’re right. It may not exist. Or if it does, I’ll never find it. But given the freedom finding it would provide me, I had to look. And besides ”

“It was another deathbed request from your father. I know. But for God’s sake, Matthew, how much of your life are you going to give up to satisfy the selfish requests of a pain-maddened man who spent the majority of the last twenty years slinging arrows to inflict more guilt upon you?”

Daniel’s gaze bore into him. “His words that set you off on this impossible mission were simply a way for him to control you from the grave. What happened wasn’t your fault. You’ve spent all these years paying for an accident. Trying to atone to a man for whom no apology would ever suffice.”

Matthew’s shoulders tensed in a vain attempt to protect against the onslaught of guilt rushing toward him. Images he fruitlessly wished he could forget flashed through his mind, bombarding him, and he closed his eyes, willing them away.

“Your father’s gone, Matthew.” Daniel’s quiet voice broke through his painful memories. “There’re no more apologies, nothing else to be done except for you to live your life. As you wish.”

Matthew opened his eyes and stared into the glowing embers in the grate, imagining they were the gates of Hell yawning before him. “I won’t be free until I honor the promises I made. To find what I’m searching for ”

“An impossible task if it even exists.

“ and to marry within a year.”

“A ridiculous request.”

“Not to my father, who was desperate that I produce an heir. I’m the last male Devenport.” His stomach clenched as he said the words, nearly stumbling over them, and he forced aside the heartbreaking image of James that rushed into his mind. “It was Father’s final and sole request.”

“And it was just as unreasonable as the other countless requests he forced upon you over the years.” Daniel fixed him with a penetrating stare. “He’s dead, Matthew. He won’t know.”

A plethora of unsettling emotions swamped Matthew, and he leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees, and dragged his hands down his face. “I’m ashamed to admit how many times I’ve told myself that very thing he won’t know. But every time I do, my bloody conscience inconveniently interferes, informing me that I’ll know. While my honor, my integrity, may be tarnished, I want them, need them, to still mean something. At least to me. I made promises. I intend to keep them. And it’s almost a certainty that my only hope of saving the estate is through marriage.”

Daniel blew out a sigh. “Very well. In that case, let me tell you what I’ve learned so as to narrow your search. Let’s start with Lady Emily.”

“What about her?”

“She won’t do. Through an enlightening conversation with Logan Jennsen, who somehow knows the financial situation of every man in England, I learned that although Lady Emily’s father has done a good job covering it up, he’s lost nearly everything and is on the brink of ruin. Indeed, he’s nearly as bad off as you.”

“Damn. Of course it’s better I found out now rather than after the I do’s. What about Lady Julianne?”

“Now, she is a promising prospect, in spite of her not being one hundred years old. Indeed, I think she is who you should concentrate all your energies upon. She is Lord Gatesbourne’s only daughter, and the earl will bestow a fortune to secure her a title. Especially one attached to a reasonably handsome, young peer as opposed to an ancient, creaking old coot with no teeth who will make his darling daughter weep to simply look upon.”

“Always good to know one is more desirable than an ancient, creaking old coot,” Matthew said in a dust dry tone.