The Viscount's Dangerous Liaison: Regency romantic mystery (Dangerous Deceptions Book 3) Page 17

‘I see.’ And she did. How wretched that Mr Hogget was trapped, unable to marry again. ‘It must be lonely for you, with so many people being difficult about the situation.’

  ‘I don’t think it is the talk about Henry’s mad wife, that is the problem.’ Her voice held distaste at the phrase. ‘Nor about my wicked morals. It’s the fact that I’m not gentry-born. I could be an upper class wanton and be far more acceptable.’

  ‘Of course, if you were Lady Something then everyone would pretend to believe that Mr Hogget was a widower.’

  ‘Exactly. Anyway, I have plenty to keep me occupied, Miss Darke.’

  She did not elaborate on what that might be and Laura, somehow, did not like to ask. She had a suspicion that she would only hear evasions and she was unwilling to hear untruths from her new acquaintance. ‘Won’t you call me Laura?’

  ‘And I am Charlotte.’

  They turned onto the coast road and rattled along in companionable silence, Laura with the hood of the cloak drawn up in case they encountered someone who might recognise her.

  They passed through Fellingham without anyone taking any notice of them, rattled over the bridge across the creek and continued on towards Blakeney. The church came into sight with its strange little tower at the east end that served as a lighthouse for the mariners negotiating their way into the harbour at the foot of the hill.

  Charlotte turned the gig into the first of the narrow lanes that led down to the harbourside, lined with small cottages built of flint with red pantiled roofs. They gave way to store sheds and brick warehouses as the gig turned along the quayside itself.

  ‘Goodness, but it is busy today.’ Laura peered out cautiously from under the edge of the hood.

  ‘It usually is,’ Charlotte remarked, reining in to a walk.

  ‘It is quite some time since I have been down here. Are you looking for any ship in particular?’ Her companion seemed to be scanning each of the small vessels moored alongside with keen attention.

  ‘A ship? No, I am just interested. Such a lot of coastal trade, despite the fact that they can’t cross to the Continent,’ Charlotte observed.

  Surely she did not believe that? ‘The smugglers do,’ Laura observed.

  ‘Oh. Yes, I suppose so. I had not given it much thought. Look, there is Mrs Finch – be careful with your hood.’

  The Rector’s wife was making her way along the congested quay, lifting her skirt to negotiate mooring ropes and puddles of liquid spilling from broken casks. Her good-looking groom walked behind her carrying a bulky package across both arms. It looked heavy and she turned to check that he was keeping pace with her.

  ‘Had you heard the rumour that he’s her lover?’ Charlotte murmured. She had brought the gig to a halt to allow a brewer’s dray to finish unloading casks of beer onto the cobbles in front of them.

  ‘What? Her groom? But… he’s younger than she is.’

  ‘So is her husband,’ Charlotte said. ‘He’s a handsome creature – and far too clean and well-turned out for a groom if you ask me.’

  Mrs Finch had stopped at the gangplank of another vessel where four sailors were struggling with a very large crate. ‘Do take care! That is full of china. Oh, you clumsy man!’ One of the unfortunate sailors hit a bollard with the corner of the case and set it down hurriedly.

  ‘She must be spending lavishly if she has goods arriving on two separate vessels,’ Charlotte remarked. ‘You would think she’d arrange to have things shipped together from London. Ah, now the way is clear – and there is Squire Jenner.’

  ‘Looking remarkably furtive,’ Laura said. ‘You don’t suppose that building is a…’

  ‘Brothel? Might be, I suppose. Rather early in the day for a card school. Probably if I were married to Mrs Jenner I too would be seeking some light relief elsewhere.’

  ‘What a pity neither of us is in a position to twit him on the subject. He deserves to be made uncomfortable, in my opinion.’

  Charlotte drew in against a warehouse wall. ‘Will you be all right here for a few minutes? I must just go in to settle that account.’

  ‘I will be perfectly all right, Tansy seems very calm. If you hand me the reins I do not think you need to tie her up. She isn’t going to need much of my attention.’

  But she was paying attention, she realised. Paying attention to Charlotte because that seemed a strange place to be paying a bill for fish. Paying attention to Squire Jenner who had stopped looking shifty and was now in earnest conversation with what looked like the captain of the brig moored opposite to her. The man was leaning on the rail and Jenner was speaking with rapid, stabbing hand gestures as though trying to drive a point home. The other man shifted a little, spat over the side, then said a few words, shrugged and walked away from the rail. Jenner stormed up the gangplank after him.

  Laura watched with interest, half expecting a fight to break out, but both men vanished from sight. Then she ducked her head again as her Aunt Finch came back along the quayside, appearing from behind Laura and making her jump when she stopped almost alongside the gig.

  The older woman was tapping her foot impatiently, an unusual sign of agitation in someone who was usually so controlled. Perhaps the sailors had broken some of the china. Her groom stepped up alongside her, very close and said something, too low for Laura to hear. She shivered. Surely Aunt Finch was not having an affaire? The Rector’s wife? And with this man who, for some reason, was making Laura feel decidedly uneasy.

  Then her aunt said something to him, he stepped back and Laura saw the Rector walking towards them. The two met, spoke and then turned, arm in arm and Laura saw Mrs Finch glance at her husband. It was just one look, but it was betraying.

  She despises him, Laura realised. Then the look was replaced by the usual calm indifference.

  She was still puzzling over the Rector’s marriage when Charlotte emerged from the warehouse, jotting something in a small notebook. She glanced up and down the quayside and made a few more notes before turning and walking briskly towards the ships’ chandler’s store at the far end.

  Really, this is like some stage farce. People keep popping in and out, just missing each other. Perhaps she should drive on a little and pick Charlotte up when she came out of the chandlery. And what on earth did she or Mr Hogget need from a ships’ chandler’s?

  All it needed was for the landlord of the Mermaid to appear and the Swinburns to arrive en masse and everyone connected with the mystery would be to hand. Tansy walked on stolidly, hardly baulking when a man walked out of the warehouse door right into the mare’s path.

  It was the Mermaid’s owner, just as though Laura had conjured him up. And that was the warehouse Charlotte had gone into. Perhaps they were both buying fish from there…

  Tansy plodded on around the man and stopped again outside the chandlery when Laura gave an absent-minded tug on the reins. What was going on? Or was it simply that these local people were going about their perfectly innocent business and she was seeing something sinister in everything?

  Charlotte came out, her notebook still in her hands and with no sign of any purchases.

  ‘I caught you up,’ Laura said after a swift glance around to make sure none of her neighbours were within earshot.

  ‘Thank you.’ Charlotte climbed into the gig and took the reins.

  ‘One can never have too much rope, I always think.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The chandlery. So useful for rope.’

  ‘I wanted to find a source of tar. The pigsty roof is leaking.’ Charlotte sent Tansy along the quay instead of turning around.

  She must be intending to take the lane up to the coast road at the far end, despite the fact that it was narrow and awkward. On the other hand, Laura thought, her suspicions nagging at her again, this route gives Charlotte a view of every single ship in the harbour.

  And tar? Surely repairs to pigsties were the province of the man of the house or his workers? Although, if Charlotte had said she was driving this way, perhaps Mr
Hogget had casually suggested that she ask at the chandlery. Laura tried to imagine Perry asking her if she’d undertake such an errand and decided he’d be shocked. But Perry could be rather conventional and Mr Hogget had proved himself to be anything but.

  ‘How long as she been gone?’ Theo demanded.

  Mrs Bishop frowned. ‘It was just after you all went riding off. Before I set the bread to rise, but after Rosie brought in the eggs. Must have been a couple of hours,’ she concluded.

  ‘Two hours? Good God, anything might have happened to her.’ He turned to find Perry in the kitchen doorway. ‘Did you hear that? Laura’s been gone for at least two hours.’

  ‘She’s been feeling restless, cooped up,’ Perry said. ‘But even so, two hours… We should go and look for her.’

  The back door opened and Laura walked in. ‘Dinner smells wonderful, Mrs Bishop.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I hadn’t realised the time, I had better run upstairs. Oh. Perry, Theo, what are you doing in the kitchen? The most peculiar thing – ’

  ‘We were looking for you,’ Perry began.

  Theo lost his temper, suddenly and explosively. ‘Where have you been, you totty-headed female? Are you out of your mind? Anything could have happened to you and we had no idea where you were, who you were with, what the devil you were doing.’ He was aware that he was being unreasonably angry, that he was shouting, that the others were staring at him. Somehow he caught hold of the unravelling ends of his self-control.

  ‘We were worried about you,’ he added more temperately as Flynn arrived at the run with Jared on his heels.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Lord Northam, who has no right or business to censure my behaviour, has just lost his temper.’ Laura gathered up her skirts and stalked past them. ‘I have had a very interesting afternoon, but if you would prefer to lecture me rather than hear all about it I shall not trouble to tell you. I do hope you had a lovely time in your dirty, smelly, corpse-infested crypt.’

  ‘Laura – ’

  ‘I believe it is time to change for dinner.’

  ‘Well handled,’ Perry remarked as they heard Laura’s door close with a snap.

  ‘Stubble it,’ Theo said, inelegantly.

  ‘I rather suspect that Mrs Bishop wishes us to remove ourselves so she can continue with preparations for our evening meal,’ Jared observed. As they took themselves back to the hall he added, ‘And Miss Darke may have forgiven Theo sufficiently to share her news by dinner time. I, for one, intend to bathe, change and contemplate how very lucky I am to have put the horrors of courtship behind me.’

  ‘What the blazes does he mean by that?’ Theo demanded as Jared vanished up the stairs.

  ‘Can’t imagine,’ Flynn said, not troubling to hide his grin. ‘I’d best disturb Mrs B again and beg some hot water.’

  Theo was still simmering with suppressed emotion by the time the men all gathered in the drawing room at seven. He regretted losing his temper – no gentleman should speak to a lady like that. He knew perfectly well he had no right to dictate Laura’s actions and he ought to apologise on both counts and, of course, he would. But I love her.

  And even if I did not, I cannot marry Lady Penelope Haddon now, not without having a very frank conversation with her.

  ‘Theo? I do not usually have to ask you three times whether you want a glass of Madeira.’ Perry waved the decanter impatiently.

  ‘What? Yes please. Sorry, I was thinking.’

  ‘Novel,’ Jared drawled. ‘What about?’

  ‘What women think about marriage. I mean, they seem to feel they are a failure if they do not marry.’

  ‘That is certainly the accepted wisdom.’

  ‘But that’s because if they don’t then they are treated as failures and they have no power or influence.’ Theo realised he had never thought of it like that. He had simply assumed that Lady Penelope would be delighted to be asked and would say yes unless she actively disliked him. ‘Although Guin – ’

  ‘My wife is intelligent, strong and determined and yet it was not until she was widowed for the second time that she found herself financially able to live her own life. Even now she is still reliant on men to handle her legal and financial affairs. So you do not need to tell me that it is an unequal world, Theo. We all know it, all men do. The only point of argument is whether that is right and just or not. I do not think that it is. I assume that none of us here do.’

  ‘I had taken it for granted.’ The sun came up in the morning, the tides went in and out, women were subservient to men because they were weaker and had feebler intellects. But most of the women he knew were at least as intelligent as most of the men and some considerably more so, and without benefit of a decent education, at that. And as for being weaker, he had seen Guin fight off a murderer and women gave birth, a process he was profoundly grateful never to have witnessed.

  ‘If you are having a revelation about the rights of women, Theo, I do wish you’d manage not to look like a stunned cod while you’re about it,’ Jared said. ‘I hear Miss Darke approaching. I am sure she can give you chapter and verse on the feelings of her sex on the subject.’

  ‘No. Later.’ Theo got to his feet as Laura came in. ‘Laura, I apologise for losing my temper, for the expressions that I used and the assumptions that lay behind them. I was worried about you, but that is an explanation, not an excuse.’ He braced himself for a cutting retort.

  ‘I understand. There is nothing more infuriating than worrying about someone and then discovering there was no need for it,’ she said earnestly. ‘I should have realised you would be anxious, but I have had quite an adventure and have either made a friend – or been in the power of one of the players in our mystery. I have no idea which.’

  ‘Good grief.’ Perry waved a hand towards the decanters. ‘Ratafia?’

  ‘Madeira, please. I need something strengthening before I tell my tale.’

  They all sat and Laura embarked on an explanation of where she had been and what she had seen while Perry muttered, ‘Good God!’ at regular intervals, Flynn leaned forward, elbows on knees, listening intently, Jared steepled his fingers and closed his eyes and Theo wrestled with his feelings.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘I suppose I was reckless to trust her,’ Laura said when she had finished by explaining that Charlotte had dropped her at the end of the drive.

  ‘I think not.’ Jared opened his eyes. ‘Instinct is often a good guide. I do not mean that the soi disant Mrs Hogget is not involved in whatever is going on, but I do not think she will betray your hiding place.’

  ‘So what do we have?’ Theo felt faintly stunned by Laura’s generous forgiveness and had an unpleasant suspicion that he was looking less than intelligent as a result, although a glance in the over-mantle mirror reassured himself that Jared’s jibe about stunned cod was unfair. He sat up straighter and made himself analyse the facts.

  ‘Mrs Hogget – it makes it simpler if we call her that – has very strange reasons for going to Blakeney quay: a fishmonger’s bill that surely would be dealt with by the housekeeper, and which she professed to have paid in an anonymous-looking warehouse also frequented by the landlord of the Mermaid, and a call at the ships’ chandlers’ for decidedly unladylike purposes.’

  ‘The landlord’s name is Harris and I suppose he has many reasons for going into warehouses,’ Perry remarked. ‘But I agree, it is strange that Mrs Hogget was in the same one.’

  ‘Then Squire Jenner looking shifty. Is there a house of ill-repute at the harbour, Perry?’

  ‘Not that I’ve ever heard of.’ He shot Laura a quick look. ‘Not that I’d know, of course.’

  ‘As a magistrate you might have had to deal with disturbances there,’ Jared said, straight-faced.

  ‘Then we have the Finchs receiving large packages by sea.’ Theo shrugged. ‘Could be perfectly innocent. Saves money for heavy loads from London.’

  ‘And Jenner might have been negotiating something of t
he same kind with the sea captain,’ Flynn suggested.

  ‘So I am imagining the whole thing? It is just coincidence that so many people who were at that dinner party which seems to have begun this were also in Blakeney?’ Laura asked.

  ‘Describe exactly which warehouse Mrs Hogget entered and Harris left,’ said Perry. When Laura did her best he nodded. ‘Thought so. Whatever Mrs Hogget was doing, she was not paying for fish. That’s one of a row of three and they are all used for storing goods in transit in or out.’

  ‘In fact,’ Theo said, ‘The only person definitely acting oddly was Mrs Hogget. Jenner might have been looking shifty, but that could be accounted for. Your new friend lied about her fishmonger’s account and she was taking notes.’

  ‘That struck me too,’ Jared remarked. ‘It sounds as though she was carrying out surveillance.’

  ‘But she made no attempt to hide what she was doing,’ Laura objected.

  ‘Best way not to draw attention,’ Theo said. ‘Look at Jenner – if he hadn’t been looking so guilty you would hardly have noticed him. A woman jotting notes on her shopping list – what could be more harmless?’

  ‘You think that she is a spy? A French agent? But…’ Laura’s protest died away.

  ‘An agent. But theirs or ours?’ Jared got up and began to pace. ‘Hogget leaves here – about eighteen months ago, I think you said, Perry? He establishes his sick wife in safe and secure circumstances – I do not see why we need dismiss Laura’s instinct to trust that account. Then he returns here with another woman, to a place where he was known before, where people are most likely to be suspicious of this new marriage. And sure enough, his new wife is ostracised, his social life is curtailed. It must be miserable for the lady – and yet he stays when they would surely be much more comfortable well away from here where he is unknown.’

  ‘And if Charlotte and he are madly in love and defying convention then why is he content to leave her at home and why does she go about so much without him? Yet I cannot believe that she is his mistress. I do not know why – instinct again, I suppose,’ Laura mused. ‘She is very business-like and determined in her manner. Yes, I can see what you mean, Lord Ravenlaw.’