As she stumbled past him into the room, he leaned out to check the corridor. Mercifully, it was still empty.
He closed the door and turned to confront her. He could not believe that she was standing there dressed in a nightgown, cap, and wrapper.
“What the devil is going on?” he demanded. “I thought you were concerned about your reputation. What the bloody hell do you think will happen if you are seen entering my room?”
“Unfortunately, I have a more pressing problem at the moment.” She hugged herself. “Dear heaven, this is going to be difficult to explain.”
He could see that she was badly shaken. Anger sparked within him, so quickly and with such force that he could not tamp it down. He reached for her and seized her by the shoulders.
“Bloody hell. Did Crane make another attempt to force himself on you? I vow, I’ll kill him myself this time.”
“That will not be necessary, sir.” She swallowed heavily. “He is already quite dead. That is why I am here. I have come to ask you for your assistance in getting rid of the body. Or at least shifting it to another room.”
“The body.” He could not have heard her aright. “Are you telling me Crane’s body is in your bedchamber?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Unlike last time, I really do not think that I can simply shove him down a flight of stairs and tell everyone he died of a broken neck. There is a rather bloody hole in his chest, you see.”
A woman’s scream rang out from the top of the staircase. Edison could hear the terrible cry of alarm all the way down the hall.
“Murder. There is murder here. Come quickly.”
Emma flinched violently as the shouts of alarm echoed through the castle. “Oh my God, we are too late. Someone has already found the body.” She tried to duck away from Edison’s hands.
“Hold on, Emma. Where do you think you’re going?”
She glanced wildly toward the window. “I must get out of here. I will surely hang this time. Bloody hell, I should have known that sooner or later The Bastard would ruin everything for me.” She wriggled in Edison’s grasp. “Please let me go, sir. I do not have much time.”
“You cannot rush off into the night like this. You’re wearing a pair of house slippers, for God’s sake.”
“I’ll get a horse out of the stables.”
Chaining her wrist in one hand, he pulled her to the bed.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing, sir?”
“You think quickly on your feet, Miss Greyson.” He sat down and began to pry off his boots. “But I fear your plan to escape with a stolen horse is not one of your better schemes.”
She glared at him as he yanked off the second boot. “Have you got a better one?”
“I believe so.”
Edison released her to shrug out of his coat. He unfastened the top half of his shirt while he listened to the turmoil on the staircase. Footsteps and shouts sounded from the landing.
“Sir, what do you—”
“You may not prefer my plan,” he said as he finished his preparations. “But it will be infinitely safer for you than your own.” He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Come. We must be off.”
“Sir. Mr. Stokes—”
He grabbed her wrist and hauled her toward the door.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“To join the other horrified onlookers, of course.” He wrenched open the door and dragged her out into the hall. “When we arrive on the scene, we will be just as shocked and surprised as everyone else.”
“But Crane’s body is in my bedchamber.”
“That may be true, but you are not in your bedchamber, are you?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No more argument, Miss Greyson. You are my employee. In situations such as this, I expect you to follow my orders.”
She looked dubious.
“I’m afraid you must trust me for the moment, Emma,” he said more gently.
Halfway down the hall he saw the lights of several flaring candles cast wild shadows on the staircase. The rumble of dozens of footsteps sounded like thunder in the distance.
They reached the landing a bit behind the bulk of the crowd. No one noticed as they fell in with the others. Everyone was straining for a look at what was happening up ahead.
“Hurry,” someone yelled. “Kindly move along up there.”
On the third floor everyone turned and stampeded down the dark corridor.
Edison glanced over the heads of the crowd and saw a terrified-looking maid standing in the hall. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide with fright. The one who had given the alarm, he thought. He wondered what she had been doing on this floor at this hour of the night.
As the throng hurried past, he spotted the heavy silver tray on the floor. Broken bits of a cup and saucer and what had probably been a very expensive china pot were scattered next to it.
Edison pulled Emma closer to his side and inclined his head to speak into her ear. “Did you send for tea earlier?”
“What?” She glanced at him, frowning in confusion. “Tea? No. I was going to go straight to bed after I took a short walk on the battlements. Why do you ask?”
“Never mind. I will explain later.” Edison made a note to find the maid after the commotion had died down. It would be interesting to discover who had sent her to Emma’s room with a tea tray at that hour.
A shriek went up as the first of the curious guests arrived at Emma’s door.
“It’s true!” someone shouted. “The man’s been shot dead.”
“Who is it?” a woman called.
“It’s Crane,” another man confirmed in a loud voice. “What the devil was he doing up here?”
“Tumbling some poor chambermaid, I expect,” muttered portly Lord Northmere. “Man never could keep his hands off maids, governesses, and the like.”
“Good God, she must have shot him,” a woman cried. “Look at the blood. There’s so much of it.”
“Stand aside, here.” Basil Ware pushed his way to the front of the group. “Kindly allow me to see what the bloody hell is going on in my own house.”
There was a short, respectful pause as Basil went through the doorway to survey the scene. Edison felt Emma shudder. He tightened his grip on her arm.
Basil reappeared in the doorway. “It’s Chilton Crane and he’s certainly very dead. I suppose we shall have to summon the authorities from the village. This is Miss Greyson’s room. Has anyone seen her?”
“Emma!” Letty’s shriek reverberated in the stone passage. “My God, he’s right. This is my companion’s bedchamber. Where is Emma?”
Heads bobbed and swiveled. A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
“He obviously tried to have his way with the poor creature …”
“Miss Greyson shot him …”
“Who’d have thought it? Miss Greyson, a murderess.”
“She seemed like such a quiet young woman. Perfectly pleasant …”
“Turn her over to the authorities at once …”
Emma clutched Edison’s hand so hard that he could feel her nails bite into his skin. He glanced at her and saw that she was watching Basil Ware’s face with a transfixed expression. Then she turned her head very suddenly and shot him a grim, accusing look. No doubt thinking of the horse she had intended to steal from the stables, he supposed.
He tightened his grip on her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. Then he caught Basil’s eyes over the heads of the crowd.
“Miss Greyson is with me, Ware,” he said calmly. “Precisely where she has been since she left the party earlier this evening. As she has been quite close to me for some time now, I am in a position to give you my complete assurance that she had nothing to do with Crane’s death.”
Everyone whirled en masse to stare at Emma. A stark silence fell as the assembled guests took in the sight of Emma in her nightclothes. Then every pair of eyes snapped in unison to Edison. The fasc
inated gazes swept over his undone shirt and his bare feet. He knew he looked as though he had just got out of a warm bed and had pulled on a few garments in great haste.
The conclusion was obvious but he realized that, in her agitated state, Emma was the last person in the hall to grasp it. She simply stared back at the gaping expressions that confronted her.
Edison gave the crowd a rueful smile and raised Emma’s hand to his lips “Obviously neither of us had planned to make the announcement in this manner. But given the circumstances, I’m sure you will all understand. Allow me to present my fiancée, Miss Emma Greyson. Tonight she very kindly consented to marry me.
Emma sucked in her breath with a distinct, wheezing sound. She gasped and started to cough.
Edison thumped her lightly between her shoulder blades. “I am, of course, the happiest of men.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dismiss me?” Emma’s voice rose as a new wave of alarm washed through her. She stared at Letty, who was propped up in bed with her coffee. “You’re going to turn me off? Letty … Lady Mayfield, please, you must not do that. I need this position.”
Letty, eyes glinting merrily, wagged an admonishing finger. “Very amusing, my dear. But you cannot expect me to fall for such a ridiculous jest. Imagine trying to convince me that you wish to continue your career as a paid companion now that you are engaged to Stokes.”
Emma ground her teeth. The morning was not starting off well. After the magistrate had left, she had spent what little had remained of the night on the cot in the dressing room that adjoined Letty’s bedchamber. She had not been able to bear the thought of trying to sleep in her own room. Crane’s blood still stained the floor.
Letty had been very understanding, after a fashion. “Of course you cannot continue to sleep in this dismal little room, my dear. You are engaged to an extremely wealthy man. How would it look?”
Emma thought her employer had rather missed the point, but she had not argued.
Letty had glowed very pink when Edison had thanked her for her kindness to his “fiancée.”
Emma had tossed and turned fitfully until shortly after dawn. Then she had slipped past the snoring Letty to get herself a cup of tea.
Downstairs she had encountered a strange atmosphere in the warm kitchens. The hum of conversation had ceased immediately when she walked into the room. All eyes had turned toward her. She had not comprehended what was going on until Cook brought her a cup of tea and some toast.
“There now, that dreadful man deserved, exactly what he got,” Cook said gruffly. “Have somethin’ to eat, Miss Grey son. Ye’ve had a hard night.”
“But I didn’t shoot him.”
Cook winked broadly. “’Course ye didn’t, ma’am. Got a perfect alibi, don’t ye? Besides, we all know the local magistrate declared it the work of a housebreaker who snuck in while everyone was dancing downstairs.”
Emma knew the authorities had been forced to that unlikely conclusion because, thanks to Edison, there had been absolutely no evidence against anyone else in the household.
Before she could think of how to respond, Mrs. Gatten trundled into the kitchens. She smiled cheerfully at Emma.
“Miss Greyson, we just want you to know that we don’t hold it against you none, what you did and all.”
Emma was still feeling slow-witted from lack of sleep. “I beg your pardon?”
Mrs. Gatten glanced quickly around and then lowered her voice to a rumbling whisper. “We all know the sort Crane was. Ye did warn us. Last night young Polly told me that you saved her from his lecherous ways when he cornered her in a closet up there on the third floor.”
“Mrs. Gatten, I assure you, I did not shoot The Bastard, I mean, Mr. Crane. Truly, I did not.”
“Of course ye didn’t, ma’am.” Mrs. Gatten winked broadly. “And ain’t no one going to say different, not with you having Mr. Stokes behind ye. He’s a kind man, Mr. Stokes, is. Not like some of the fancy.”
Emma had abandoned the argument. She had hurriedly gulped her tea and then fled back upstairs.
Matters were deteriorating swiftly, she reflected now. She was about to lose yet another post.
“But it’s true.” Emma moved closer to the bed. “I do wish to continue in my position as your companion, Letty. Indeed, I have given you no reason to dismiss me.”
Letty rolled her eyes. “Do not try to cozen me, gel. It’s too early in the day for jokes. You know perfectly well that there is no way on earth you can remain in my employ now that you are engaged to Stokes.”
“Lady Mayfield, I beg you—”
Letty gave her a knowing look. “I am proud of you, my dear. You’re a credit to me, if I do say so myself. Paid attention, you did. Invested your assets wisely.”
Emma stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s true Mr. Stokes ain’t exactly in his dotage. Likely to be around for a good many more years from the looks of him. But there’s something to be said for a healthy gentleman in his prime.”
“Letty.”
“Expect you’ll learn to manage him so that you won’t have to wait for him to cock up his toes in order to be able to enjoy his fortune.”
Emma clenched her hands at her sides. “You don’t understand.”
“Of course I do, my dear.” Letty winked very much the way Mrs. Gatten had earlier. “Your strategy was a bit dicey, in my opinion. Personally, I believe in a gel keeping her assets under lock and key until she’s got a wedding ring on her finger. But you did get a public announcement of an engagement out of Stokes. With any luck, that should do.”
Emma swallowed heavily. “Do?”
“He’s not like so many gentlemen of the ton who’d think nothing of promising a gel marriage in order-to seduce her and then abandoning her when she becomes inconvenient. The man’s got a reputation for keeping his word.”
“Lady Mayfield, I don’t know how to tell you this, but—”
“Mind you, some will think it’s a bit peculiar that he chose you for a bride. But I believe I understand his thinking in the matter.”
“You do?”
“Aye.” Letty looked shrewd. “Stokes’s known to be something of an eccentric. Word is, he’s not easily dazzled by superficial airs and graces. They say he positively loathes the vast majority of the ton because of the unfortunate circumstances of his birth. Yes, I can see where he’d prefer to choose a wife who did not move in Polite Circles.”
Emma gazed at her in mounting frustration. It was hopeless. There was nothing she could say that would convince Letty to allow her to remain in her employ. The notion that the new fiancée of the fabulously wealthy Edison Stokes desperately wished to retain her post as a paid companion would strike everyone as ludicrous.
There was only one thing left to do, Emma thought. She braced herself.
“Would you mind very much giving me a reference, LadyMayfield?”
Letty cackled. “Don’t be ridiculous, gel. You’ve; got no need for a reference now.” She laughed harder. “A reference, she says. Just imagine.”
I’m doomed, Emma thought.
An hour later Emma discovered that the day, which had started out on such a dire note, was about to get worse. Edison sent word via Polly that he wished to go riding.
“For heavens sake, tell him no, Polly.”
Fresh panic lurched through her. She understood instantly that she was—in immediate danger of losing her second post of the day. When Edison discovered that she was no longer in Lady Mayfield’s employ, he would conclude that she was no longer in a position to assist him in his investigation.
She needed time, Emma thought. She steadied herself with a deep breath and tried to think of a reasonable excuse to avoid the inevitable.
“Kindly inform Mr. Stokes that I do not possess a riding habit,” she told Polly.
Unfortunately, perhaps predictably, given her luck today, the small ruse to avoid the morning ride failed miserably.
Polly returned a few minutes late
r with a dashing, dark turquoise velvet riding habit and a pair of kid boots. Her eyes danced with excitement.
“Mrs. Gatten found these things,” she explained proudly. “They belonged to Lady Ware. Afore she took sick, the mistress was accustomed to ride out every day. I think they’ll fit ye close enough.”
Emma stared dully at the rakish blue habit. There was, she noticed, even a clever little turquoise hat complete with a blue feather to go with it.
Letty emerged from the dressing room at that moment, a vision in a bright yellow gown with a low, square neckline that framed her ample bosom. She took one look at the habit and clapped her hands. “It’ll be absolutely perfect with your red hair, my dear.”
Emma realized that there was no point in attempting to stave off the next disaster. There was nothing for it but to ride out and listen to yet another employer dismiss her.
One would assume that sooner or later one would grow accustomed to being sacked, she thought glumly.
Forty minutes later she allowed herself to be assisted into a sidesaddle. She took up the reins, relieved to note that the dainty mare the groom had selected for her appeared quite docile. She feared her skills would prove rusty. She had not ridden since long before Granny Greyson had died.
Edison chose a sleek bay gelding. He vaulted easily into the saddle and led the way out of the yard. He took the path that penetrated the dense woods that ringed the castle.
Within minutes they were deep in the forest gloom.
Fuming, Emma waited for him to bring up the inevitable subject. But he said nothing as they rode deeper into the woods. He seemed intent on his own thoughts.
Under any other circumstances she would have welcomed the opportunity to ride. The morning had dawned bright and clear. She could not deny that it was a great relief to get away from Ware Castle for a while.
She tried for an optimistic view of her situation. On the bright side, she was not in any immediate danger of hanging.
The alibi Edison had provided had some undeniable drawbacks in terms of her career, but it had accomplished what he had intended it to accomplish. She was above suspicion so far as the local magistrate was concerned. He might not believe her story, but there was very little he could do about that.