Adam stared sightlessly at his claret. Though it wasn’t certain, he would have to accept that perhaps Hal—Lord, his future brother-in-law as well as his cousin!—might be trying to have him murdered. The Ashton title and fortune were a rich enough prize to unbalance many men. “Is there any way of being sure short of asking Shipley or Hal?”
Kirkland sighed. “Probably not. Apparently you mentioned to someone that you were glad your cousin recommended Shipley, but it was vague. It would be very useful if you could remember this last chunk of your life.”
Would that he could do that. “Randall, have you set Rob looking for the assassin from this end?”
“Yes, but so far, he hasn’t had much to work with,” Randall replied. “He has his informants looking for Shipley. Also for George Burke, at Mariah’s request.”
Adam narrowed his eyes. “Any luck?
“If Burke has returned to London, it shouldn’t be hard to locate him since he probably won’t be trying to hide. If he’s out of town, it will take somewhat longer.”
Adam thought of Mariah’s grief when she was told her father was dead. If Burke had lied about that…“When he is located, I will speak with him.”
Randall frowned. “It’s dangerous for you to go about London. If yesterday’s rifleman had been a better shot, you’d be dead.”
“Yes, but I won’t live like a caged animal. I’ll take reasonable precautions.” Adam shrugged. “I might need to be out and about to lure the assassin from hiding.”
Randall and Kirkland looked appalled, but Masterson said, “That’s sensible. Would either of you accept staying trapped inside? No, I didn’t think so.”
“I’ll use the closed carriage and arrange for more bodyguards.” Adam finished his claret in a single swallow. “I shall also hold a dinner party here. I’ll invite Hal and his mother, my mother and her family, you three, and Mariah and Julia. Look threatening then, Randall. Perhaps Hal will be persuaded to confess.”
He poured himself more wine. Hal might prove to be innocent. But it seemed too much to hope.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Given the high drama of the previous days, Mariah decided the next morning to do what any sensible woman would: go shopping with her best friend. They started at the bargain shops, working their way up to Bond Street, which was pricey but had goods unavailable elsewhere. By midday, both were laden with parcels and Mariah hadn’t thought about attempted murder or missing parents for hours.
At the last draper’s shop on their itinerary, Julia examined two lengths of fabric, one a figured muslin in soft rose, the other a subtle leafy green poplin. “Which should I buy? I can’t really afford both.”
“Buy both anyhow,” Mariah said. “Each will look very fine on you, and you won’t find their equal in Carlisle. Since we’re leaving London in a few days, we should take advantage of the shops now. Heaven knows when either of us will be back again, and in the future, we’ll have to pay travel expenses. So buy both fabrics from what you saved in travel costs.”
Julia grinned. “I wouldn’t have made this trip if it wasn’t essentially free, but you’ve just provided me with a good excuse to be extravagant.” She signaled the sales clerk that she was ready to make her purchase.
As they later stepped outside, Mariah paused on the shop’s doorstep and glanced down the narrow, bustling precinct of Bond Street. “I love the country and I’m looking forward to returning to Hartley,” she said wistfully, “but I love London, too. My father and I used to stay here fairly regularly when there was no convenient country estate to visit.” She grinned. “Naturally, our quarters were much more modest than those on this trip.”
“At least we’ve had a lovely day of hunting,” Julia said. “We can’t buy any more because we’ve run out of hands and carrying bags. Shall we find a tea shop to refresh ourselves before we return to Ashton House?” A parcel slid out of her carrying bag and she bent to pick it up. “I’m now wishing that we’d accepted Holmes’s offer of a carriage and footman. My feet are aching from so much walking.”
“I don’t want to get used to Ashton luxury,” Mariah said firmly. A carriage and footman would have been still another reminder of the social distance between her and Ashton, and she needed no more reminders.
A woman gasped nearby. Mariah looked up to see a fashionable matron staring at Julia. To her companion, she said, “Surely that’s…?”
“Impossible,” an equally well-dressed woman said blankly. “She’s dead.”
Julia turned white. Acting on instinct, Mariah took her arm and pivoted, then walked them away briskly, turning at the next corner. When they had put some distance behind them, she said, “That tea will definitely taste good.”
Julia drew a deep, slow breath. “Aren’t you going to ask me about that woman?”
“Not unless you wish to discuss the matter.”
“Thank you.” Julia took an unsteady breath. “Perhaps I will someday. It might be good to speak of the past.”
They were interrupted by a friendly male voice saying, “Miss Clarke! Mrs. Bancroft! What a pleasure to see you again.”
Mariah turned and saw Hal Lawford step down from a carriage. His smile was hard to resist, yet she couldn’t help thinking that he might be behind the attempts to kill Adam. The two disparate thoughts temporarily froze her tongue.
Julia was more articulate. “Good day, Mr. Lawford. The pleasure is mutual.”
“I see that you’ve been taking advantage of the London shops.” He cast an assessing eye on their purchases. “May I offer my carriage to hold your parcels, then treat you ladies to a luncheon? There’s an excellent tea room around the corner.”
Mariah and Julia exchanged glances. “I’m all in favor of being spoiled by luxury,” Julia said.
And probably Julia needed that just now. “Thank you, Mr. Lawford. We accept both your offers gratefully,” Mariah replied.
“Please call me Hal.” He signaled his footman to collect the parcels and store them in his vehicle. “As anyone will tell you, I am nowhere near dignified enough to be called mister on a regular basis.”
He was a hard man to dislike, Mariah admitted privately. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to him than his affable surface.
As they were finishing an excellent luncheon, Hal said in a serious tone, “Has anything been learned about the man who attempted to shoot Ashton? I find it very disturbing to think that the villain might try again.”
“As do I.” Mariah’s eyes narrowed. “If one was to make a list of suspects who might want him dead, you would be at the top.”
Instead of looking conveniently guilty, Hal said wryly, “A fact of which I’m painfully aware. The irony is that I genuinely don’t want to be duke; I’d do a beastly job of it. Adam is first rate—born to take responsibility. His father was a high British official in India, and Adam inherited the blood of Hindu princes through his mother. He reads and understands proposed legislation that I would fall asleep over. He once offered to put me up for a seat in the House of Commons controlled by the Ashton estate. Very prestigious, but I turned it down because I would have been bored senseless.”
Julia cocked her head to one side. “What does interest you, Hal? Gambling? Dazzling the ladies?”
“I enjoy both, but my true passion is breeding horses. Ash’s mother was of royal blood. My mother is Irish, from a family who has bred fine horses for generations.” He grinned. “And despite my boredom with legislation, I keep ridiculously detailed breeding records of every horse I’ve ever owned. That’s never boring.”
As the women laughed, Mariah looked into the green eyes that were so like Adam’s and couldn’t decide if Hal Lawford was an honest man, or the most dangerous liar in London.
Adam was different. Mariah saw that as soon as he entered the drawing room before dinner. She hadn’t seen him all day because of their shopping expedition.
But as she watched him cross the room, dark and aloof, she knew beyond doubt that it
was time to leave London. The battered, amnesiac man she had pulled from the sea was finally and fully the Duke of Ashton. He wore power and authority as naturally as he wore his flawlessly cut coat. He’d gradually been moving away from her ever since his friends had showed up at Hartley to claim him. Now that he had settled back into his life, there was no room for her.
She swallowed against the tightness of her throat. She couldn’t wish for him to live without his past forever. But for a brief time, when he had been merely Adam and the world was a long way off, they had been happy.
He moved to the drinks cabinet and looked over at her and Julia. “Would you like sherry?” His gaze lingered on Mariah, and from its warmth, she guessed that he hadn’t entirely put Hartley behind him.
Before she could comment, the door opened and Holmes announced that the Stillwell family had arrived. Close behind were Lakshmi and General Stillwell, Kiri, and two younger people. Adam crossed the room to greet them, kissing his mother lightly on the cheek. “So I didn’t dream you yesterday, Mother.”
Lakshmi slipped her hand beneath his elbow, as if she had to touch her long-lost son. “I feared that I would never have my four beautiful children in one place.” She gestured. “Kiri you have met. Here are Lucia and Thomas. Are they not splendid?”
Lucia blushed, but Adam laughed as he greeted his half brother and half sister, catching their hands in turn. “I have become rich in family.”
All four of Lakshmi’s offspring began talking animatedly, their words tumbling over each other. They were indeed beautiful, with a strong resemblance that made it easy to see they were siblings. Adam was obviously going to love being a big brother.
Though Mariah again felt the sadness of not having a place beside Adam, it was impossible to begrudge Adam and his newfound family their joy. Lucia was perhaps seventeen and well on her way to being as striking as Kiri, though her eyes were gray-green, like her mother’s. Thomas was a year or two older and a handsome young man, with blue-gray eyes similar to his father’s. All four of them had complexions lighter than Lakshmi’s, but darker than the average English person’s.
As Holmes quietly poured sherry for the guests, General Stillwell drifted over to join Mariah and Julia. “They’re a handsome set, aren’t they?” he said with pride.
“Indeed,” Julia agreed. “They seem to have inherited the best of both English and Hindu blood.”
Curious, Mariah asked, “General Stillwell, do you worry that your children will face intolerance here?”
“Of course I worry. Parents are born to worry.” His wry smile encompassed both Mariah and Julia. “You’ll find out in your time. But they would have found intolerance in India, too, and they all needed to discover the English half of their heritage. I raised Kiri and she’s like one of my own, but she’s a duke’s daughter, and that counts for a great deal in England. She deserves to benefit by that. And to be blunt, her rank will benefit her younger brother and sister as well.”
No wonder the general had been concerned about whether or not Adam would accept his younger half siblings. Being sponsored by the Duke of Ashton would help them all. Kiri was in an even better position. Even if her father hadn’t had the opportunity to write a proper will, Adam would surely give her a marriage portion appropriate to her station.
The butler announced that dinner was ready to be served. As people moved toward the dining room, Adam fell into step with Mariah. “My mother, two sisters, and a brother! It’s a miracle.”
“Indeed.” She let her smile show how happy she was for him. “More than that, they are lovely people, not a bunch of dirty dishes, as relations so often are.”
He grinned as he took her arm. “I’d welcome even the dirty dishes, but this is so much better.”
Since there was no one close, she lowered her voice and said, “I talked to Julia, and she was able to rather easily imagine that Annie Watkins, who runs the Hartley post office with her husband, might have been seduced, bribed, or both to intercept letters to and from Hartley Manor.”
Adam’s gaze sharpened. “Not hard evidence, but very interesting. If Burke has returned to London, he should be relatively easy to find. He might be the best route to tracing what has happened to your father.”
“Then let us hope he turns up quickly.” She drew a slow breath. “Julia and I intend to return home in three days. May I ask Holmes to discover the coach schedules for us?”
Adam’s hand tightened on her arm and he looked stricken. Softly she said, “It’s time, Adam. Any information you discover about my father can be mailed to me, because I assure you I will deal with Annie Watkins. She will intercept no more mail.”
“I know you’re right.” He was silent for half a dozen steps. “I will send you in one of my coaches. I don’t want you and Julia to have to travel on the public stage.”
She had to laugh. “I have many times before and taken no ill effect from it.”
“Let me do this for you, Mariah.” His gaze was stark.
It was unnerving to see in his eyes how much he cared—but also gratifying to know that what was between them was real. “If you’re sure. I’d be a fool to turn down a free, comfortable ride right to my doorstep. And even if I wanted to, Julia is no fool and wouldn’t allow me to decline,” she said lightly.
“Will you stay an extra day? I’m having a dinner party so both halves of my family can meet, and I would like to have you there.” He smiled a little. “You and Julia would be calming presences, I think.”
“I’m sure Julia won’t object.” And Mariah would have one more day near Adam.
Chapter Thirty-Three
It took only a day and a half to locate George Burke. Adam was in his study, poring over the endless paperwork that went with his property and wondering if he really needed to have an opinion about renewing tenant leases on an estate in Yorkshire. Since the estate steward recommended renewal, he signed an agreement.
The next document concerned subjects being debated in the House of Lords. He really should start attending now that he could recognize people again. There were some interesting issues being considered this session.
He set the documents aside with relief when Kirkland and Randall showed up at his door. “Have you brought me an excuse to escape from my responsibilities?”
“That we have,” Kirkland replied. “Burke is staying at an inn near Covent Garden. As of an hour ago, he was in his room. Care to call on him?”
Adam shoved his chair back with alacrity. “The sooner, the better.”
They took the old closed carriage again. As they left by the rear exit, Adam wondered if his house was being watched by a man with murder in his heart. Hard to believe on such a bright spring day, but the bandaged shoulder under his fashionable shirt and coat was a reminder that he must be careful.
Burke’s inn was shabby and had seen better days. Adam wondered what the man was using for money now that he’d gambled away his estate. The inn didn’t suggest that he was prospering.
Their driver pulled up at the inn’s front entrance. As the three men climbed out, a lean, brown-haired fellow emerged from the shadows. Adam recognized him as the Bow Street Runner, Rob Carmichael.
Carmichael jerked a thumb upward. “Burke is still here. Top room on the right.”
“Thank you for finding him.” Adam gazed up at the window. “Have you had any luck locating the mysterious Ned Shipley?”
“I heard on the waterfront that he’s been seen around lately, but the information isn’t confirmed.” Though Carmichael was dressed like a working man, his accent was cultured. Not surprising since he’d been educated at the Westerfield Academy. “Do you want me to go up with you?”
“That could be useful if more investigation is required.” Adam entered the inn, the other three men behind him. The innkeeper stuck his head out of a back room, saw that the new arrivals were expensively dressed and determined, and prudently withdrew.
A quick walk up the narrow stairwell and a turn to the right brough
t them to the door of the corner room. Adam knocked with great restraint, considering that he wanted to bash the panels in with his fists.
“Who’s there?” a familiar voice called.
Adam remembered pulling Burke off of Mariah and his hands clenched. “I brought the money with me.” Which made no sense, but he thought that any mention of money would attract Burke’s interest.
It did. There was a scrape as the latch was lifted, and then Burke opened the door. He was in his shirtsleeves and wore no cravat, and his eyes were bloodshot. He frowned. “We’ve met but damned if I remember where. Did you lose to me at cards?”
“It was in the drawing room of Hartley Manor.” Adam stepped forward, shoving the door back before Burke could slam it shut. “You were forcing your attentions on Mariah Clarke.”
Whatever was in Adam’s face caused Burke to back nervously across the bedchamber. “No need to bring your friends to give me a beating. My intentions were honorable. Damnation, I asked the girl to marry me!”
“If you recall our first meeting, you should remember that I need no help if I want to kill you with my bare hands. My friends are here to prevent me from doing that.” Adam smiled with cold threat. “And you weren’t offering honorable marriage. You were trying to bully Mariah into putting herself and her inheritance into your worthless hands. But that is not the worst thing you did to her.”
“I left Hartley after I learned that she was wed,” Burke said defensively. “I’ve not harmed her.”
“Except by telling her the despicable lie that her father was dead.” Adam slowly peeled off his gloves, as if preparing to do violence. “Did you murder him yourself, Mr. Burke? Old Testament law demands a life for a life.”
“No!” Burke exclaimed, looking panicky. “I haven’t seen the bastard since we went to his lawyer’s office to transfer ownership of Hartley after I lost it to him.”
“And while you were there, you stole some of Granger’s stationery so you could write Mariah and announce her father’s death.”