Everything I Ever Wanted, page 8
"I have not heard him called such before," he said. "Tenacious, yes. Like the veriest starving cur on the scent of a bone long buried. That is our colonel. But persuasive? That is putting too fine a touch on it."
"Perhaps it is because I am not a bone," she said with some dignity.
"What?" Belatedly he collected himself. His eyes, gleaming with an amused silver light now, regarded India most openly. "No," he said at length, pretending not to notice she only suffered his study and was not flattered by it. "Not a bone at all."
India could not help but notice that the gleam in his eyes remained. She could divine the thought even when he did not deign to utter it aloud. "Though not a great deal of meat to recommend me," she said.
It was surprise that touched his expression, though not entirely because she had said it. It was more interesting to South that she appeared to believe he had been thinking it when quite the opposite was true. Her lush mouth suggested to him that all of her was as exquisitely curved, and he could still find no reason to think otherwise. Indeed, tender morsel had immediately come to his mind. Miss India Parr was long of limb, with a slender, creamy neck all that was exposed by her gown, but South had an eye for feminine proportions and had won his fair share of wagers on the same. Until it was proved otherwise, he remained more confident in his own judgment than in Miss Parr's.
South chose not to make a gallant reply to her comment, and permit her to think as she would. He imagined he had not much time left with her. He sensed her impatience and suspected she would be asking him to quit himself from her house soon.
Returning to matters of importance, South said, "The colonel remains desirous of your assistance, Miss Parr. I take it you have been of no small help to him."
India shrugged. "It was little enough that was asked of me."
"Your continued well being is of the uppermost concern to him."
Her smile did not quite touch her eyes. "I doubt that," she said softly. India placed her unfinished wine on the sideboard and let her arms fall to her sides. "There is no need to puff the thing up. What happens to me cannot be of so great a consequence. I can accept that the colonel feels some sense of responsibility for me, but it is largely misplaced. He owes me nothing, nor I him. My arrangement with the colonel was never quid pro quo, and I would not have him make it such now."
South wondered what manner of persuasion Blackwood had used to engage India Parr's help in the first place. She was not easily moved from a position once taken. Bloody intractable was what she was. "Then you are refusing his protection."
India hesitated, but only the space of a heartbeat. "Yes," she said. "There is no need for it."
"Mr. Kendall's murder is not proof to the contrary?"
"No. You said as much yourself. You might suspect his death is linked to his association with the colonel, but you have not the facts of the matter yet. In the event the evidence is presented to you, I believe there is infinitely more risk to others than to me."
South's neutral tone belied his concern. "What others?"
"Well... you, for one. And the colonel, of course." She stopped. "What? Did you think I might know of any others? I hope you are disabused of that notion. Until you spoke plainly this evening, I could not be certain the colonel sent you. I could not even be certain he would send someone. It did not necessarily follow that Mr. Kendall's long absence meant he was dead, only that the colonel had no need of me. No, my lord, I pose no threat to anyone seeking information because I have little enough to offer."
"It can take as long to discover someone has nothing useful to give as it does to discover they do," South said. "Do you take my meaning, Miss Parr?"
She did. He was saying that in the end it could be the same. She might well be dead for what she didn't know as for the things she did. Sighing, India returned to her chair by the hearth and sat on the edge, her hands folded quietly in her lap. "I hope you will relate my appreciation to the colonel for his concern, but frankly it surprises me. I had not expected this consideration, nor even to come to his notice. If he insists on pressing me in this manner, then perhaps it is time for me to put a period to our arrangement."
Southerton's expression gave nothing of his thoughts away. In any event, they had little to do with Miss India Parr. The colonel, he was thinking, could begin doing his own negotiations when females were involved. "You are quite set on this matter, then," South said.
"I am."
He nodded. "I will make your wishes known to him."
"I would have you convince him, my lord."
"I would have to be convinced myself, Miss Parr, and I assure you, I am not. What the colonel proposes is not an unreasonable precaution."
The line of India's mouth, while not precisely mutinous, remained unwavering. She continued to regard Southerton calmly, giving not a fraction of an inch.
"Very well," he said at length. He stood slowly and thanked her for the supper and the pleasure of her company. "There is no need to see me out. I can find my way."
India stood, watching his progress to the door. His movements were accompanied by only a whisper of sound. He stopped for his coat, folding it over his arm; then he picked up his hat and gloves. Her eyes followed the lift of his arm as his fingers went to rest on the brass handle. She felt a small tug inside her that began as he lifted the handle. This feeling was at odds with the urgency she felt for him to be gone.
Southerton's hand paused and his grip loosened fractionally. He turned a few degrees toward India, so that he was not addressing her over his shoulder but neither was he confronting her directly. "There is someone, is there not?"
There were so many possible responses she could have given that at first India could say nothing at all. Finally, she gave the one that would cause her the least explanation for the nonce. "Yes," she said. "There is someone."
South merely nodded, thoughtful. His fingers renewed their grip on the handle, and this time he twisted it fully. "Good evening."
Then he was gone.
* * *
"That's my trick, I believe," Northam said, pulling the cards toward him. "You haven't been attending the play tonight, South."
Frowning at the mention of his name, South looked up distractedly. "Haven't been to the theatre for a fortnight. What's that to do with anything?" His expression became one of annoyance when his friends exchanged telling looks and brief chuckles that he knew were at his expense. He was aware of heads turning in their direction from other corners of the gentlemen's club. "What did I say?"
Mr. Marchman shook his head. "It is of no consequence as long as you continue to entertain us in this fashion."
Eastlyn nodded. "It's just as West indicates. You are vastly entertaining tonight."
Northam's amusement was slightly less than the others by virtue of the fact that South was his partner in the card game. He felt compelled to point this out as there was a hefty wager at stake on the outcome. If South did not become more agreeable and attentive, they would both be out an entire quid. He tapped the edges of the cards he had collected into place. "I was speaking of the card play," he told Southerton. "You apparently were not."
"Still at Drury Lane?" Marchman asked. His green eyes narrowed faintly as he looked askance at Southerton. "No sign of new bruises. Nor any cuts. You have not been in the company of Miss Parr of late, have you?"
"Or at least he has not offended her," Eastlyn said.
South lifted his chin in Northam's direction, indicating he should lead his next card. He did not respond to the gentle gibes of West and East. They were correct in their assumptions, after a fashion. The truth was that he had seen a great deal of India Parr of late but that she was unaware of it. Her ignorance was all that kept her from taking offense, and saved South from physically having to defend himself.
It was Southerton's own uncharacteristic quiet that silenced the others. This time they did not exchange a single glance but went back to their play, mutually agreed to follow their friend's lead no matter where it took them. In the case of Northam there was a price to be paid in the form of a pound sterling. He paid his debt alongside South, gathered the cards, and motioned to a footman for a round of drinks to be brought to their table.
"And where is your wife this evening?" Eastlyn asked. "The dowager countess has her again?"
North shook his head, some of his displeasure visible in the set of his mouth. Though he could not say why it should be so, he would have preferred his wife were in the company of his mother rather than where he knew her to be. "She's sitting with Lady Battenburn. The baroness sent a servant around saying she was not feeling at all the thing, and Elizabeth elected to go to her."
"Then it is fortunate for you that we're in town to provide a diversion."
"Yes," North said wryly. "Isn't it?" The truth was that Northam had hoped to conclude his assignment with the colonel quickly and still get his wife to the country before October was out. Success on all fronts was eluding him. He glanced at Southerton. Judging by the expression on that worthy, the fates were being similarly unkind.
Mr. Marchman was of the opinion there was no amusement to be gained from Eastlyn's line of inquiry. He changed the subject. "I have it on good authority that Rutherford has exiled himself to the other side of the Atlantic."
"More debts called in?" asked East.
"So it was intimated."
North drew the recently placed snifter of brandy in front of him toward his mouth. "Interesting, that. The first I heard of the man's considerable debt was this summer past at the Battenburn estate. The country gala. South was still there when Madame Fortuna revealed it to Lady Battenburn's guests."
"Saw it in her cards, did she?" Marchman said.
It was South who answered. "I would never malign the fortune teller's reputation, but I would not be surprised if she wasn't privy to certain information provided by our host and hostess. If you recall, it was that same evening Madame accused North of being the Gentleman Thief. In that we know she was wrong."
North remembered it somewhat differently. "She said I had certain stolen articles in my possession, which I did, no matter that I had no knowledge of how they came to be there."
Eastlyn tasted his brandy."How I wish I had been witness to that, culminating as it did in Lady Elizabeth's valiant though ill-considered defense of you. Brought you forthwith to the altar, it did."
One of North's brows kicked up. "Such can be arranged for you, East. You have but to name your poison. Lady Sophia or Mrs. Sawyer."
Eastlyn quickly set down his snifter and threw up his hands, surrendering. He looked elsewhere for a timely rescue. "You were saying about Rutherford, West?"
Marchman laughed, a dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Only that he's disappeared. Since he hasn't turned up leg-shackled to an heiress, there is speculation that he embarked for America to make his fortune."
"Or marry one," North said.
South tapped the stem of his glass with a fingernail. A small crease had appeared between his dark brows. "What part of his destination is speculation and what part is fact?"
Mr. Marchman shrugged. "I overheard the talk at Simon's two nights past. Why? Is it important?"
"I doubt it," South said easily. It had been South's experience that oft-repeated gossip eventually became fact. "I saw him not long ago. He was laying siege on that occasion. It rather flies in the face of his plans to take himself off to America."
"Laying siege?" asked East. "A renewed interest in Lady Powell?"
"No." He felt three pairs of eyes boring into him. Lest they mistake the matter and he find himself and Grace Powell once again the subject of speculation, Southerton gave up the truth. "Miss India Parr."
Marchman leaned back in his chair. He was thoughtful. "That explains why it must needs be a siege, but is she possessed of a fortune? I certainly have never heard of such."
"Neither have I," South said. He had given no small amount of thought to the possible sources of Miss Parr's income since the evening he had been invited to her home. It had, in part, prompted his final question to her as he was about to leave. While she did not live lavishly, she certainly lived in a style supported by more than an actress's wage. He considered the gifts that were sent her way by the hopefuls—as he called them now—as one wellspring of funds. While he was able to learn that on any evening she was offered at least one truly spectacular piece of jewelry, he had also learned these were never the pieces she accepted. Miss Parr kept the trifles and incidentals: the small stones and settings that had not cost a man his fortune or even his quarterly allowance, the ones that arrived with no expectation of a favor in return but were given merely as tokens of esteem and acknowledgment of her fine performance.
No quid pro quo.
He recalled her saying that no such arrangement existed between her and the colonel. It was apparently a matter of importance to her in her dealings with all men.
It did not help him explain the existence of the house, the number of servants in her employ, the expensive but simple furnishings, or the extent of her wardrobe. He had created an opportunity for himself to visit her home when she was not in residence and once when she was. No one, least of all Miss Parr, had suspected his presence. During the day he had chosen a time when most of the servants were out on errands and the ones remaining could be easily avoided. At night, everyone was soundly sleeping. South still did not count himself as an accomplished sneaksman. Gaining entry to her home had required more in the way of good planning than expert climbing skills or quick reflexes. He was possessed of the latter, but they were not needed. More to the point, he had taken nothing during his visits, nor had he forced his way into those few rooms that were locked. His purpose was to make observations, not to inadvertently bring notice to himself.
"There is someone, is there not?" He had put the question to her that evening because all of his instincts told him it was so. She had answered in the affirmative yet given nothing away. He still had no real answer to the question of the man's identity. Who provided for her? Kept her? Someone made certain she did not have to accept a position as any man's mistress, by seeing to it that she was adequately cared for.
The more South learned, the more questions that were raised in his own mind. Of answers, there were precious few. The colonel denied that he was India Parr's benefactor, but he was clearly intrigued by South's assurance that such a person existed. It left South with a very long list of possibilities.
Eastlyn caught the attention of North and Marchman and rolled his eyes in South's direction. "Wool-gathering again," he said in hushed accents of the type that were meant to be overheard. "I should be offended if I thought it was in any way a personal slight. It appears, though, to be a defect of character."
"Amusing," South said dryly. But he had been woolgathering, so nothing but ridicule would come of denying it. "Another round of cards? North?"
"With you as my partner a second time? Not bloody likely. I should have the duns at my door and no way to pay them. Before you can say 'Philadelphia,' the Compass Club will have become a threesome and I will be fleeing with the clothes on my back and Elizabeth in tow to points west of Land's End."
This speech was met with hoots of laughter, as well it should have been. The wagers among the four friends, while many in number, were notorious for their miserliness. They wagered no more money now than they had when they had been together at Hambrick Hall and their allowances were dear.
"West?" Southerton asked, picking up the deck and flicking through it with his thumb. "You will take a risk, won't..." He broke off, looking up as a liveried footman approached. The man carried a small silver tray absent of libation. "Yes?" South asked, for clearly the man had been approaching him.
"This arrived for you, my lord. Only moments ago. I was instructed to give it to you directly." He lowered the tray so the viscount could remove the card.
South opened the envelope, glanced at the card without removing it, then placed it in the inside pocket of his frock coat. "No reply," he informed the footman. When the man had backed away and was out of hearing, South made his apologies to his friends. "I regret I must leave your fine company, but there you have it."
To their credit they did not ask questions. In the guise of farewells, these friends offered words of caution and good luck. It was always thus when one was summoned on the colonel's affairs.
* * *
South arrived at the house shortly before one in the morning. It was an absurd hour to conduct business of any nature, but South complied because he was intrigued. He knew his friends thought it was Blackwood who had taken him away from their evening at the club, but it was not so. At least not directly. The card he carried in his pocket was from Miss India Parr.
He was on the point of stepping down from the hired hack when he saw the cloaked figure coming toward him. He was not entirely certain it was Miss Parr until she was almost upon him and ordering him back inside the cab. Bemused, he ducked his head and lowered himself onto the uncomfortable leather seat. She followed quickly, seating herself opposite him. Her voice was husky—deliberately so, he thought, as she rapped out a destination to the driver. "Drury Lane," she said.
There was no interior lamp in the cab. India lowered the blinds over the windows on either side of her before they had gone more than a few feet. Had she not been so earnestly efficient, South could have been moved to amusement by her antics. The hooded cloak, at the very least, put him in mind of the Society of Bishops. Was she abducting him? It was a tantalizing thought.
"We are going to the theatre?" he asked with polite interest.
"Yes... no... that is, it was said merely in aid of giving the driver a direction."
"Then you have no purpose there?"
"At this hour? Do not be absurd."
"Then, pray endeavor to think of one when we arrive. A forgotten article, perhaps. Clothing. The lines of the new play you're rehearsing. Nothing piques the curious observer more than a destination without design." South leaned back and removed his brushed beaver hat, placing it on the seat beside him. He folded his arms casually across his chest and waited. A slim beam of moonlight slipped past the blind as the cab swayed on poorly maintained springs. The blue-gray light illuminated India's pale hair as she lowered her hood. Strands that were like corn silk in the sunshine had the appearance of rare and precious metals now, platinum and silver worked in a delicate filigree against her scalp.
