A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Mayhem, page 26
“You were in London for the better part of a year. What made you decide to come to Lewiston?” She’d felt the stocking begin to give a little and had to keep him talking long enough for her to free her hands.
Now that he’d begun to tell his story, Bastian seemed in no hurry to stop. “That’s an interesting tale. You see, while we were in London, I spent every moment I could spare from my position as a clerk looking for information about my father. I was in the British Library one day and one of the librarians with whom I’d become acquainted told me he’d found a letter my father had written to his publisher.”
His eyes gleaming with excitement, he continued, “It wasn’t the content of the letter that was interesting. But where it had come from. You see, the library had acquired it from a collector, who bequeathed it to them upon his death. I learned from his family that he’d purchased it from a dealer. And where do you think he got it?”
“He’d bought it from Josiah Green.” She stilled while the man’s gaze was on her.
“Very good, Lady Katherine.” Bastian nodded approvingly. “I begin to understand why poor Eversham is so fond of you. You’re almost as clever as my sister.”
Ignoring his praise, she pressed him. “So you came to Lewiston in search of Green?”
“It stood to reason that if he had one letter, he might have more. And after a little more investigation, I learned that his father had been my father’s valet and, well, we simply had to make the journey here.”
“But why as Reeve Thompson?”
“We could hardly come to town telling everyone we were the long-lost Philbrick heirs, could we?”
“And Valentine?” Kate leaned forward as if on the edge of her seat to hear his answer, but she was really just dragging the stocking over the ironwork.
“We needed to get into Thornfield Hall, obviously, just to ensure that none of our father’s things were still here. After all, we’re his rightful heirs, and all of his belongings are ours now.”
Kate decided it wasn’t the right time to explain English inheritance law in cases where the descendant’s estate had been sold to pay off debts.
“I made some inquiries as to the new owner, and it was easy enough to attend a few sporting matches and strike up an acquaintance with Lord Valentine. When he mentioned he was getting up a house party, it was impossible to find a reason why I should turn him down.”
The stocking was beginning to tear now, and Kate schooled her features not to reveal her relief.
“My sister, of course, could hardly join me as a guest,” Bastian continued. “I had introduced myself as a single man, so I couldn’t invent a wife at this late date. And just in case someone from our old life recognized us, we couldn’t present ourselves as brother and sister either. So I came to Thornfield and she stayed in a neighboring village, coming to Lewiston from time to time, of course, when necessary. For a chance encounter with poor Mr. Jones, for instance.”
“What sort of chance encounter?” Kate asked, wanting to keep him talking.
“Oh, come now, Lady Katherine,” Bastian chided. “You’re a woman of the world. You know precisely what sort it was.”
Of course, Kate thought. She’d seduced the man into going to Green for them. It had been a neat trick. Not only had Jones’s inquiry of Green let them know that there were more letters, but having Jones act as go-between had kept their presence in the village a secret.
“Which of you killed Jones?” she asked, just as the last bit of cloth broke apart. It took every bit of muscle control Kate had to keep her hands from flying apart as the bindings tore.
“Emily.” Bastian shrugged. “Jones had proved useful, but he was no longer needed. And my sister doesn’t have patience for men for very long after they’ve outlasted their usefulness.”
His tone became apologetic now, however. “I am sorry you were the one to find him. I had hoped Barton would be the one to stumble upon the body. But I hadn’t counted on your needing to flee from him. I should have, given how he’s leered at you from the moment he first saw you.”
Mr. Jones was seemingly more deserving of an apology, but Kate wasn’t quite sure that would be the thing to say to her captor at that moment.
She was trying to work some circulation back into her hands so that she could use them to aid in her escape when the sounds of footsteps and thrashing in the bushes came toward them.
“Ah, excellent,” Bastian said, for all the world, as if he were a host about to greet his guests. “Your policeman has arrived.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Eversham could see lamplight shining through the thick boxwood as he walked on one side of Caro, his hand clasped around her upper arm. Valentine, on the other side, did the same.
He had to admit that when Caro had explained her idea, he’d thought it mad, but once she’d donned the black gown and hat with the black veil covering her face, he was quite sure her own mother wouldn’t be able to recognize her. Since Emily Hale had donned a similar disguise when she’d broken into the Green house, she might conceivably have other reasons for wearing it again.
Of course, Bastian might very well know where his sister was, in which case this ruse would be an abject failure. But it gave them a way in. And would possibly be enough distraction to help them get Kate away from him before he could do her more harm.
“Come in, come in,” said Bastian Hale as the trio rounded the last corner and came into the square center of the overgrown maze. “I wondered if you’d get my—”
He broke off as soon as he spied Caro and began to rush forward. Prepared for such an eventuality, Eversham pulled Caro roughly before him and placed the dagger Bastian had used to secure the poem in the attics to her throat. “Don’t come any closer.”
With a curse, Hale came to a halt. “You’re a dead man, Eversham. I thought I’d make it quick for your lady’s sake, but now I’m going to play with you for a while. After I kill her first and make you watch.”
Even if the man had a pistol on him, he couldn’t risk shooting Eversham without harming his sister. Which was precisely what they’d counted on.
“You say the nicest things,” Eversham said coldly. “Now, come over here away from Lady Katherine and hand me your gun.”
Valentine stepped forward and pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Hale’s chest. “Over to the bench,” he said, prodding his captive.
While the two men walked, Eversham looked at Katherine, trying to determine whether she’d been harmed or not. She had just stood and taken a step toward him when he noticed her eyes widen.
“Eversham!”
Without the warning, he’d have gone down like a load of bricks. As it was, however, the glancing blow did stun him, and though he turned to strike back at his attacker, Caro got there first.
“Get off me!” screeched Emily Hale as Caro leapt onto her back like a monkey.
The two women went to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs and skirts.
Valentine, who had been about to tie Bastian to the bench, saw that Caro was in trouble and handed the pistol to Kate.
“He’s your prisoner now,” he told her before sprinting toward the brawling women.
Perhaps thinking this was his opportunity for escape, Bastian tried to wrestle the gun away from Katherine. He wasn’t, however, expecting her knee, which she used to render him ineffective for anything but writhing on the ground in pain while the others restrained his sister.
Eversham hurried to where Katherine stood over Hale and, after hauling the man to his feet, tied him securely to the bench arms, which wouldn’t allow him to escape as Kate had. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“Only my pride,” Katherine said with a laugh. “I thought I was far too clever to be caught out unawares like that. I should have guessed it was Thompson all along.”
His task completed, Eversham pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “I thought I’d lost you.” He pulled her against him, desperate to feel for himself that she was alive and safe.
“I thought the same thing.” She buried her face in his neck before leaning back to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry I refused you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were afraid,” he said. “And I wasn’t hearing you. I’m sorry. However long you need, I’ll wait. If you never want to marry at all, that’s all right, too. However you’ll have me in your life, Katherine, I’ll take it.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Bastian Hale said from behind them.
“Be quiet or we’ll gag you,” Kate said over her shoulder.
To Eversham, she said, “I love you. And if you want to be married, then I trust you enough to risk it.”
“I hate to interrupt your happy reunion,” Valentine called from the other side of the clearing, where he and Caro were struggling to control Emily Hale between them, “but we could use some help.”
“Kate, I was in a fight and I think I won!” Caro shouted.
“We’d better go,” Eversham said. There would be time enough for sweet words and plans later.
For now he was happy to have her safe and out of harm’s way.
* * *
It was some hours later when Eversham finally slipped into Katherine’s bedchamber, having transported Bastian and Emily Hale, with Valentine and Jim Hyde’s help, to the jail in the nearby village of Kendal. He liked Constable Miller well enough, but he didn’t trust the man to be able to keep a pair like the Hale twins locked up for longer than an hour at most.
Once they’d realized they wouldn’t be able to talk their way out of this, the pair had become sullen. And the last he saw them, they’d been sitting in separate cells staring straight ahead in eerily similar poses.
“You’re back.” Kate, who had been curled up in the chair beside her bed, rose and pulled him into her arms.
“Let me change.” He laughed softly. “I smell of the road and God knows what else.”
“I don’t mind.” But she pulled him toward the dressing room, and showed him the wash basin; brought him soap, a cloth, and a towel; and left him to his ablutions.
Once he’d cleaned himself up, he stripped down to his drawers, folded his clothes neatly, and left them on a chair.
Back in her bedchamber, he found Katherine sitting up against the pillows, her skin bathed in lamplight and looking like everything he’d never known he needed.
“Come to bed.” She reached out her hand to him. And though he’d meant to let her rest, once Eversham slid between the sheets that had been warmed by her body, he couldn’t have kept from pulling her to him if his life had depended on it.
Later, as they were lying entwined, Katherine’s head resting on his chest, she asked, “What will become of them?”
He didn’t need to ask of whom she was speaking.
“They killed a half-dozen people,” he said grimly. “Though they were badly done by their grandfather, I don’t see how they’ll escape the hangman’s noose.”
She nodded, then tucked her head beneath his chin. “And what of the man who was arrested for their crimes before? Clark.”
“I sent a messenger to London to let Darrow know,” Eversham said. Ensuring that the man who’d been wrongfully accused was set free had been his first priority after clapping irons on the twins. Once he returned to London, he would do what he could to see that Darrow and Dolph Wargrove were punished for their misdeeds as well. “Barring some administrative delay, he should be with his family within the week.”
He felt her let out a breath.
“Didn’t you think I’d take care of it?” he asked curiously.
“Of course.” The degree of trust in her voice humbled him. “But,” Katherine continued, “I wasn’t sure how soon you’d be able to get word to London. I still feel so bad about the role our interview played in his arrest in the first place.”
Eversham smoothed a hand over her back. “If anyone should feel guilt, it’s Wargrove and Darrow. Though I doubt either of them will lose much sleep over it.”
They were quiet for some moments before he spoke again. “I’ll sign whatever you want me to. To ensure that the newspaper doesn’t belong to me when we marry.”
She rose up a little to look at him. “You would do that for me?”
“What do I know about running a newspaper?” he asked wryly. More seriously he added, “I want you to know I heard what you said about fearing that someday my superiors at the Met might try to pressure me into taking it from you. Or shutting it down. I don’t ever want that fear to come between us.”
He saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Thank you.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned forward and kissed him.
“There is one thing, however,” he said once she’d pulled away. “I must insist that you change the name of your column.”
At that, her smile disappeared. “What?”
“It’s just that it’s no longer appropriate to call it A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem when it’s obvious to anyone that neither you nor Caro is involved in either mischief or mayhem.”
At his light tone, her shoulders relaxed. “What do you suggest we call it then?”
“Why not A Lady’s Guide to Law and Order?”
Kate stifled a laugh. “That’s a terrible name.”
“Why?” He was a little insulted. It was his profession after all. “What do you suggest then?”
“How about,” she asked, slipping her arms around his neck, “A Lady’s Guide to Love and Happiness?”
“It’s a difficult task, but I suppose I’ll just have to make sure you have plenty of both so you’ll have something to write about.”
Eversham was sure he was up to the challenge.
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Acknowledgments
As with every book, this one wouldn’t have been possible without the hard work of so many people working behind the scenes. Thanks to my always supportive rock star of an agent, Holly Root, whose calm guidance, enthusiasm, and (where appropriate) pragmatism, have talked me down from about a dozen instances of “the historical romance is dead” crises. #TeamRoot Thanks to my legendary editor at Forever, Amy Pierpont, whose sharp editorial eye and patience as a literal pandemic raged around us ushered this book into being. Big thanks also go out to the always gracious Sam Brody, editorial assistance extraordinaire, who never chides me when I forget to reply all and loves some of the same books I do. Thanks to Jodi Rosoff, director of marketing and publicity at Forever, whose excitement about this book is contagious. And, of course, thanks to the production team, including production editor Luria Rittenberg and my amazing copy editor, Joan Matthews. I don’t know their names, but I know the sales team has been hard at work adjusting their work to the new way we do business. Thanks to you all.
Finally, thanks to Karen and Georgia of the My Favorite Murder podcast have been a long time coming. I stumbled upon their show at a time when I was in desperate need of distraction, commiseration, and hope. And they’ve kept me sane through the last four years with their humor, their shared horror at the harm we can do to one another, and their open acknowledgment that none of us can get through this life without help. SSDGM
Any errors, mistakes, or flubs are my own.
While investigating a disappearance, Miss Caroline Hardcastle is caught between disdain and desire for the man who broke her heart—Lord Valentine Thorn.
Don’t miss their story in Fall 2021.
About the Author
Manda Collins grew up on a combination of Nancy Drew books and Jane Austen novels, and her own brand of historical romantic suspense is the result. A former academic librarian, she holds master’s degrees in English and Library & Information Studies. Her novel Duke with Benefits was named a Kirkus Best Romance of 2017. She lives on the Gulf Coast with two lazy cats, a very spoiled Shih Tzu, and more books than are strictly necessary.
Praise for A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem
“With wicked smart dialogue and incredibly strong characters, Manda Collins reminds me why I love historical romance so much. Witty, intelligent, and hard to put down, you’ll love A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem.”
—Rachel Van Dyken, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“When I pick up a Manda Collins book, I know I’m in for a treat. With compelling characters and a rich Victorian setting, A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem weaves mystery and romance into one enthralling tale.”
—Tessa Dare, New York Times bestselling author
“[Manda] Collins is a delight! I read A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem waaay past my bedtime, absorbed by its spot-on period detail, the well-crafted characters, and, of course, the intriguing mystery. Brava!”
—Elizabeth Hoyt, New York Times bestselling author
“Mystery, romance, and an indomitable heroine make for a brisk, compelling read.”
—Madeline Hunter, New York Times bestselling author
“Both romance and mystery fans will find this a treat.”
—Publishers Weekly
Manda Collins, A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Mayhem
