The Handmaiden's Necklace (25 page)

Sweet Jesus—someone had tried to kill them!

“I don’t know what to say.” Dani paced the floor of the Wedgwood Room, which was smaller than most of the other drawing rooms, overlooked the garden and had become her favorite. “Why would anyone want us dead?”

But an ugly thought kept rolling around in her head. In order to inherit the Sheffield dukedom, the rules of primogeniture demanded a son born in wedlock, a legitimate child of Rafe’s blood. To make that happen, Rafe’s only option would be divorce.

Unless, of course, she was dead and he could remarry.

She looked up at Caro and saw that her friend read her thoughts.

“No, do not even think it. I do not believe he would do such a thing—not for a moment. The duke is in love with you. You may not see it, but I do. He loves you and he would not hurt you.”

Dani had no idea what Rafe’s feelings for her might be, but even if Caro were correct and Rafe might be coming to love her again, sometimes loving someone wasn’t enough. Rafe had a duty to his family, one he could not fulfill as long as she was his wife.

“We have to consider every possibility,” Dani said, “no matter how painful it might be.”

“But the duke didn’t know until after the accident that you could not give him a child.”

“Perhaps he did. There are other people who know…the doctor who tended me in the country after my fall, servants in my aunt’s household. Perhaps he somehow found out before Neil McCauley told him.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t want to, either, but whatever the truth, we must discover who is responsible—and why.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Dani whirled at the sound of Rafe’s voice, coming from the door leading into the drawing room. He walked into the intimate space and it suddenly seemed smaller than it had before.

“I’ve been looking for the two of you.” His glance moved from one of them to the other. “Apparently you’ve heard what happened to the carriage.”

Caro’s narrow face reddened. “I didn’t mean to eaves
drop, Your Grace, but I was passing down the hall and I heard you talking about the accident and—”

“It’s all right. In this case, I’m glad you know. Since Jonas McPhee is currently in pursuit of information on the Earl of Leighton’s murder, I’ve hired one of his associates, a man named Samuel Yarmouth, to look into the matter of the carriage accident.”

Dani just nodded.

“What is it? I am beginning to recognize that look on your face.”

“It’s nothing, Your Grace,” Caro answered for her. “She is just upset to think that someone might have tried to kill her.”

“Yes, well, that is what I wished to speak to the two of you about. We need to discuss any enemies either of you might have.”

Dani’s head came up at Rafe’s plain speaking. “Enemies? I can’t imagine who might wish me harm. I can think of no one.”

Rafe’s eyes pinned her. “No one but me. That is what you are thinking.”

“No, I… No, of course not.” But the rose in her cheeks betrayed her earlier thoughts.

“I don’t suppose professing my innocence would do a bit of good, but I’d like to point out that, one, I didn’t know about your condition at the time of the accident, and two, I was supposed to be in that carriage, as well. My plans changed rather unexpectedly and only the day before we were scheduled to depart. If the villain had not been made aware of that circumstance, he might have gone forward exactly as he had planned.”

The notion had merit. And the thought that Rafe might wish to do her harm was so repugnant she grasped onto the idea like a drowning woman thrown a rope. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”

“And if I were the target and not you, there are a number of possibilities for who might wish me dead.”

Her gaze sharpened on his face. “You are thinking of Oliver Randall.”

“I am. Randall will not walk again and I am the man who made it so. As enemies go, I would put Lord Oliver at the top of my list.”

Dani sat back in her chair. “After what happened, I’m not certain Oliver would have the courage to go against you.”

“Perhaps not. Still, it merits looking into.” He walked over to the window and stared out into the garden, clasping his hands behind his back. “There is also Carlton Baker. The American has made threats against me.”

“Surely Mr. Baker wouldn’t go as far as murder.”

“When a man’s pride has been injured, it is difficult to know what he might do.” He turned to face her.

“And, of course, there is my cousin, Arthur Bartholomew. He is in debt up to his ears and in desperate need of money. Becoming the next Duke of Sheffield might well be worth committing murder.”

Dani hadn’t thought of that. It was a threat that would linger until Rafe had a son. Inside she shivered.

“Aside from those three, there is another possibility, a man named Bartel Schrader. I met him in America. They call him the Dutchman.”

“Why would this man, Schrader, wish to kill you?”

“Schrader is involved in a shipping venture that would
greatly aid the French, and I’ve done everything in my power to sabotage his efforts.”

“Is that what you and Colonel Pendleton have been discussing?”

He nodded. “The Dutchman believes I’m his chief competitor in the purchase of a fleet of very unusual ships. With me out of the way, there is a chance he could finalize the sale and earn himself a great deal of money.”

“I see.” Dani bit her lip, beginning to worry about Rafe’s involvement with the government, working on something that might get him killed. “Do you think this Mr. Yarmouth will be able to uncover the man responsible for what happened to the carriage?”

“That remains to be seen. In the meantime, we must all stay vigilant. I intend to speak to the staff, enlist their aid in keeping watch, though, in truth, one or more of them may be in league with the man or men who made the attempt.”

“Surely not. Most of them have worked for your family for years.”

“That’s true, but still the possibility cannot be overlooked.”

Just then the butler appeared at the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but Lords Brant and Belford are here.”

Rafe nodded. “Good. Show them in.” He turned his attention to Danielle. “I asked our friends to come. They’re both powerful men and often out in society. I’m hoping they might turn up something useful.”

Caro stood up from her chair. “I shall leave you, then.”

“Stay,” Rafael said. “You were in that carriage along with my wife. The matter concerns you, as well.”

Caro made only a very slight nod and returned to her chair, but Dani could tell she was pleased to be included.

Wooster returned a few minutes later, leading the Earl of Brant and the Marquess of Belford into the drawing room.

“We came as quickly as we could,” the earl said simply.

“Your note said it was important,” the marquess added.

“And so it is,” Rafe said, and for the next half hour, filled his friends in on the discovery the coachman, Mr. Mullens, had made.

“So it wasn’t an accident after all,” Ethan said darkly.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“We’ll start nosing around,” Cord offered, “see what we can find out. With your permission, I’d like to tell Victoria. She has an amazing ability to enlist the aid of the people who work below stairs. They seem to have an underground system of communication that can be extremely useful.”

“I’d like to tell Gracie, as well,” Ethan said. “She’ll want to help.”

“I thought I would leave the women’s involvement up to the two of you, since attempted murder is a rather unpleasant business. But we can certainly use all the help we can get.”

“Anything else we should know?” the marquess asked.

Dani thought of Rafe and his mother, who would also benefit by her demise, but made no comment. Though it was oddly convenient that Rafe had been safely in London when the accident occurred, in her heart, she didn’t believe her husband would do anything to harm her. And though the dowager would be beyond distressed to learn that Dani could not give Rafe an heir, she prayed that her mother-in-law was not the sort to commit murder.

The men left the house, and in the quiet after their departure, Rafe turned to Dani.

“I’ve a number of things to do in regard to this matter. I would prefer you and Caro stay at home for the next several days until we can iron this out.”

Though Dani hated the idea of being a prisoner in her own home, she didn’t argue. Outside it was cold and rainy. Perhaps staying safely inside was, indeed, the wiser course.

“As you wish—for now,” she said, receiving a hard look from Rafe.

“Hear me, Danielle. I am not about to let you risk your life. In this you will do exactly as I say.”

“And what of you? If you are right and you are the target, you are the one who should be staying at home.”

The corner of his mouth edged up. “I’m glad you’re concerned, and you may rest assured that I intend to be extremely careful.”

Rafe took his leave from the drawing room, and following in his footsteps, Caro returned upstairs a few minutes later. Surely the grounds were part of the house, Dani thought, restless now and needing a breath of fresh air. Still, as Rafe intended to do, she would be careful.

One attempt on her life was more than enough as far as Danielle was concerned.

A
black night enveloped the city. Only a thin fingernail moon hung over the duke’s big stone house in Hanover Square. Upstairs in her bedchamber, Caro lay staring at the ceiling above her bed, studying the ornate white moldings, counting the plaster oak leaves, trying in vain to fall asleep.

So much had happened in the months since she and Danielle had left Wycombe Park and returned to the city.

So much had changed.

They had traveled to America and back. Danielle was wed and Caro was handmaid now to a duchess.

Robert McKay had stumbled into her life.

She had met him and fallen in love.

Caro’s eyes welled with tears she quickly blinked away. She had cried enough for Robert McKay.

Though proof had been found that Robert had told the truth and was innocent of the murder, no word of his feelings for her had been spoken, and in the months since her return to England, not once had he come to see her.

The reason was clear. Robert was an earl and she a maid.
Of course he would not come. Even if he had once carried feelings for her, they would have changed when he discovered himself a member of the aristocracy.

Robert was lost to her now and the best she could do was accept the fact and content herself with the plain, unfettered life she had led before she met him.

But even as she said the words, Caro’s heart lurched. Dear God, if she had known the pain of loving someone, she never would have gone with Robert to the stable that first night. She never would have kissed him or allowed him to kiss her.

Caro bit back a sob, determined to put thoughts of Robert McKay behind her. Still, she could not sleep. Instead, she listened to the whisper of the wind through the branches of the tree outside her window, the faint clop of hooves on the cobbled street and the whir of carriage wheels passing by down the block.

As the hours slowly passed, Caro slept off and on, then awakened again. It was the light tapping against the windowpane that caught her attention, an oddly rhythmical pattern that grew more persistent and had her climbing out of bed, padding across the carpet to peer out into the darkness.

Caro gasped at the sight of a man perched on the tiny wrought-iron railing outside the second-floor window. The man leaned closer, tapped again, and her heart leapt.

Robert!

Her hands shook as she lifted the latch and shoved the two halves of the window open. Silently, Robert climbed over the sill, jumped softly down on the carpet and closed the window against the cold. He turned toward her and just stood there staring, and it occurred to her what a fright she must look.

Dear Lord, she hadn’t even braided her hair! She had left it curling wildly down her back and now a riot of pale blond hair stood out all over her head. She was wearing only a white cotton night rail, her bare feet peeping out from beneath the hem, and in the cold, her nipples stood out shamelessly against the fabric.

Caro blushed. “I…I am not dressed,” she said lamely. “I know I look a fright. I—”

Whatever she might have said disappeared beneath the onslaught of his mouth crushing down over hers. Robert kissed her as he had never kissed her before, with a fierce, hot yearning that said all that she had ached to hear and more.

“I’m sorry,” he said stepping away. “I didn’t mean…I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

“You didn’t frighten me.” She touched her trembling, well-kissed lips. “I am so glad to see you, Robert.”

“I had to come.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “I couldn’t stay away a moment longer.”

“Robert…” Caro went back into his arms and knew a joy unlike anything she had known. “I’ve missed you so very much.”

She felt his fingers sliding into her hair, gently cupping the back of her head as he lowered his head and kissed her again. When he had taken his fill, he eased away to look at her, standing there in the faint rays of moonlight streaming in through the window.

“I had forgotten how beautiful you are.”

A fresh blush darkened her cheeks. “I am not beautiful at all.”

“You are. You are like a flower in spring, your features
so delicate, your skin so fair. Your hair is the color of palest gold and as fine as spun silver. You may not see it, but I do.”

No one had ever spoken to her that way and inside she trembled with love for him. “Robert…” She leaned into his embrace. “So much has happened.”

Robert shook his head, released a frustrated sigh. “So much and not nearly enough. I am still a wanted man.”

And also an earl, she thought but didn’t say it. She refused to speak the words that might end this moment between them. Tonight was hers and hers alone and she would treasure every second she had with him.

“Tell me your news,” she said, “and I will tell you mine.”

“My news? I have traveled half of England and have yet to find what I am seeking. But I will relay what I’ve found.” For the next half hour, they talked of all that had occurred, talked with the same ease they had shared from the moment they had first met. Caro told him about the duke and his investigator, Jonas McPhee, and how the runner had verified the truth of Robert’s story.

“He is searching for proof of your innocence,” she told him. “The duke believes he will find it.”

Robert glanced away. “I had those same hopes myself. I spoke to the woman I was supposed to meet that night at the inn, but she was no help. She wept and said that a man gave her money to send me a note suggesting we rendezvous at the Boar and Hen, but she had no idea what was going to happen when I got there. She said she never saw the man who paid her, though I am not wholly sure I believe her.”

They spoke a while longer. When all had been said of the
murder, Robert kissed her again. “I came because I wanted to see you,” he said, “not burden you further with my troubles.”

“Your troubles have become my troubles, Robert. Surely you know that by now.” Caro drew his mouth down to hers for another lingering kiss. At first he returned it, his tongue sweeping in as it had before, but as their passion heated and their breathing grew shallow, Robert pulled away.

“It is time for me to leave. I desire you greatly, my love, and I am not sure how long my control will last.”

Her heartbeat quickened.
He wanted her!
It seemed almost a dream that he stood there beside her, looking at her with desire in his warm brown eyes. And as she thought of the obstacles between them and the lonely years she would have to face without him, she realized that she desired him, too.

“Don’t go, Robert.” She reached out to touch his cheek. “Stay here with me tonight.”

His gaze ran over her and she saw the burning heat. “You’re a maiden, Caro. I would not take your innocence from you. Not the way things stand.”

“It doesn’t matter. I want it to be you, Robert. You who makes me a woman. Say that you will stay.”

He started to shake his head, but Caro leaned over and kissed him. She took his hand and placed it over her breast, felt the heat of his fingers curving over the fullness. “Say you will stay.”

“We don’t know the future. I yet may hang, love. What if there is a child?”

She looked at him, her heart in her eyes. “That would be the greatest gift you could give me, Robert.”

A low sound came from his throat and he hauled her into his arms. “You are like no other woman.” He kissed her gently, then more fiercely, kissed her until neither of them seemed capable of rational thought.

She didn’t realize he had stripped off her night rail until she felt the coolness of the air against her skin as he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. Robert joined her there naked, his body strong and beautifully muscled in the faint beams of moonlight streaming into the room.

“I know this is wrong, but I have no will where you are concerned, when the sight of your sweet body so heats my blood.”

“We’ll take this night for ourselves,” Caro said, “and no matter what happens, we will never regret it.”

“Do you promise that?”

“On my word, I vow it.”

“Then I will love you tonight and forever, Caroline Loon.” And when he kissed her, when he touched her body with such tenderness, Caro almost believed him.

Clifford Nash, Earl of Leighton, sat back in a deep leather chair in front of the fire in his study at Leighton Hall. Outside, a cold February wind swept over the land. God’s teeth, he would be glad for spring.

A light knock sounded at the door, and he beckoned Burton Webster into the study, big and hulking, a brute of a man, though intelligent enough, for all his coarse looks.

“So, is it done? Is McKay dead and out of my hair for good?”

Webster shook his shaggy head. “Not yet, but it shouldn’t
be much longer. I’ve finally found the man, though it took far longer than it ought.”

“Where is he?”

“London. Perhaps the last place I would have thought to find him.”

“What’s he doing in London?”

“I’m not sure, but according to my sources, he’s staying in a garret above a tavern in the East End called the Dove. I’ve spoken to Sweeney—”

“Sweeney?”

“Albert Sweeney, the man I hired before. Sweeney has already left for London. He’s been paid well to take care of McKay. I believe this is the last you’ll hear of the fellow.”

“Good. It is well past time the matter was ended once and for all.”

Webster rose from his chair. “Is there anything else, my lord?”

“Just make sure it’s done this time.”

“It will be. I’m off to London myself. Once I’m sure the problem has been dealt with in a satisfactory manner, I’ll send word.”

At Clifford’s nod of approval, Webster turned and walked out of the study. It would all be over soon.

As Clifford had said, it was well past time.

Caro knocked timidly at the door to the duke’s library-study. She had sent a note requesting a meeting and a few minutes later, he had summoned her downstairs.

The duke bid her enter and she opened the door and walked in, hoping he couldn’t hear the thunderous beating of her heart.

“You wished to see me?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I bring news of Robert McKay.”

He set the sheet of paper he had been studying down on the top of his desk. “Sit down, Caro. Whatever you have to say, you needn’t be afraid to say it.”

She sank down in a chair across from him and looked up to see him rounding the desk and walking toward her. He sat down in the leather chair next to hers.

“Now, tell me this news you have brought of McKay.”

Caro fiddled with a pleat in her skirt, careful to keep her mind off the intimacies she and Robert had shared. “Last night Robert came to see me.”

The duke’s dark eyebrows drew together. “He came to the house?”

“Yes, Your Grace. He climbed the tree next to my room and I let him in through the window.”

His eyebrows pulled down ever farther. “How did he know which room was yours?”

“I don’t know, but Robert is extremely clever.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“I told him about the man you hired, Mr. McPhee, and that you believe this man will find the proof to clear his name, but Robert doesn’t believe it will happen. He says he has tried every avenue and come up with nothing. He is very discouraged.”

“Where is Robert now?”

She glanced away. “He asked me not to tell.”

“But you love him and you wish to help him so you will tell me exactly where to find him.”

She blinked and looked up at him. “Please, do not ask me.”

“I’m not Robert’s enemy, nor yours, Caro. Tell me so that I may give him the help he so very badly needs.”

She had promised Robert and yet she knew that unless the duke found a way to prove his innocence, in the end he would hang. “He is staying in a room above an inn in the East End called the Dove.”

“Thank you, Caro. I will not betray your trust, nor Robert’s.”

“I know that, Your Grace.”

“Has he discovered anything new, anything that might be of help to him?”

“He mentioned a woman named Molly Jameson. He was supposed to meet her at the inn the night of the murder. Robert went to see her. He said she told him someone paid her money to get him to come to the inn that night, but she didn’t know who it was. He said he wasn’t sure he believed her.”

Caro told him the rest of what Robert had said, hoping it might help in some way.

“Thank you for trusting me,” the duke said. He reached over and took hold of her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s obvious Robert cares for you a very great deal. Whatever happens, you must always remember that.”

She knew what he was trying to say, knew that an earl didn’t marry a maid, even if he loved her. But she already knew that, so she simply nodded. The duke stood up, ending the interview, and she left the study. She prayed he would find a way to help Robert before it was too late.

Danielle snuggled next to Rafael in his huge four-poster bed. The room that belonged to six generations of Sheffield dukes was masculine, if a little too dark, with heavy, or
nately carved furniture and rich blue velvet draperies. Blue velvet bed-hangings hung from the carved wooden bedposts, protecting the bed from the cold winter chill.

It was a man’s room and Rafael had made it his own, which was the reason Danielle liked it so much. His boots stood next to the armoire against the wall, and several bottles of his favorite colognes sat on the dresser next to his silver-etched comb. He liked to read, and a half-dozen books sat on the nightstand next to his side of the bed.

Danielle liked that he wanted her here in the big bed beside him, that he reached for her in the middle of the night and again before they rose in the mornings.

Their desire for each other never seemed to wane and yet dark shadows lay between them. Someone had tried to kill her. Or perhaps the target was meant to be Rafael, as he seemed to believe, and she and Caro were merely casualties of the intended crime.

As she lay in bed, Rafael asleep beside her, the questions whirled round in her head, but no answers came. She would be glad when Jonas McPhee returned to the city. Rafael had great faith in the runner and Danielle thought that they could certainly use his help.