Chapter Twenty Three
Arabella carefully closed the door to her and Tristan’s bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. Tristan appeared to be sleeping peacefully at last. Roberts had volunteered to watch over Tristan so that Arabella could have some time to herself after watching over Tristan all night and morning.
Arabella stifled a yawn as she turned left, heading for the main corridor, planning to head to the conservatory to get some work done. She was too tired to go to her workroom and keep working on the ledgers; they would have to wait till she was more awake.
When they had returned last night, Marcus had calmly taken command of the situation. He had ordered Buttons to go have water boiled, sent Penelope to her room with strict orders to tell no one what had happened, and then had asked Roberts to help him strip Tristan. While Marcus had stripped and washed Tristan’s wounds again with alcohol, Arabella had hurried to the kitchen to brew up her special pain and sleep tonic.
Arabella’s special tonic consisted of a mixture of willow bark, chamomile, rose hips, catnip and valerian. When she had hurried back to Tristan, it was in time to see Marcus slathering a dark mustard colored ointment on Tristan’s side while Roberts encouraged Tristan to drink a large glass of brandy to help dull the pain.
Marcus had expertly bandaged Tristan’s injuries, then Roberts had eased Tristan into a nightshirt. Tristan though, he was in pain, had stoically tolerated Marcus’s ministrations without a word of protest. When they had finished, Tristan had thanked them for their help, then he’d obligingly drunk all of Arabella’s tea. He had then drifted off to a fitful sleep. Arabella, not wanting to disturb Tristan or risk rolling onto his injuries, had asked Roberts and Jimmy to bring in another mattress and place it on the floor for her, beside the bed so she would be there if Tristan needed her.
Arabella had only managed a few hours’ sleep; she was constantly waking to check on Tristan, and when she had finally managed to fall asleep, she’d had horrible dreams full of images of the attack on Tristan and blood. When she had awakened at seven and checked on Tristan, he had been peevish and flushed with a hint of a fever. She had awakened Marcus to help her check Tristan’s injuries, and then gone to make a fresh pot of her tonic. Now, after an extra dose of willow bark and valerian tonic, Tristan was sleeping peacefully.
Arabella descended the back steps and headed to the kitchen. She stepped inside the warm, bright kitchen and nodded to Cook, the tall, plump, middle-aged woman rose from the kitchen table where she was drinking a cup of tea.
“How can I help you, my lady?” Cook asked, pushing tendrils of grey hair behind her ear. Arabella studied the older woman for a moment. Cook must have been a very attractive woman in her youth, but years of standing before a hot stove had left its mark; her face was lined with wrinkles, and her waist thick. Cook was also a stubborn woman who didn’t like her authority questioned.
“His lordship is feverish, so I would like you to make him chicken soup for lunch and then please make us all roast chicken, rice, and steamed vegetables for supper,” Arabella said.
“Aye, ma’am, but her ladyship and Miss Miriam will not like it. Her ladyship prefers beef.” Cook replied, folding her arms before her ample chest.
“I do not care if her ladyship is unhappy, or if Miriam is unhappy. I am mistress now, and I am asking you to make chicken soup and baked chicken. His lordship’s health is more important than what her ladyship does or does not like.” Arabella stated firmly, giving Cook a hard look. Elizabeth had warned her that she should show no fear to servants, that she was in charge, and that they answered to her. Arabella also truly did not care what her mother-in-law liked; all she cared about was Tristan.
After a minute, Cook nodded, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll send Jessica and Davis to the poulterer at once.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Westing,” Arabella said, using Cook’s name to emphasize her authority. Then, with a nod, Arabella turned to stride from the kitchen and down the short corridor to the conservatory.
Arabella stepped inside the conservatory and instantly felt more at peace. The conservatory was her haven; it was as close as she could come to her garden back at Rose cottage. The potted violets and roses that Tristan had purchased for her filled the air with their sweet, gentle scents, calming her. With their bright blooms warmed her heart.
Arabella grabbed her apron off its hook on the wall and slipped it over her gown. She was wearing one of her old faded gowns, as it had allowed her to dress herself that morning. Arabella had sent Mia away as she hadn’t wanted her to disturb Tristan by coming in to help her dress.
Arabella was reaching for a flower pot when Buttons stepped inside the conservatory.
“Excuse me, my lady, but you have visitors,” Buttons said, extending her several calling cards.
“Visitors?” Arabella brushed her hands clean on the flower pot and rose to take the cards from Buttons.
“Yes, my lady, Mr. Marcus said he was expecting Mr. Waterhouse this morning, so I put the knocker out.” Buttons replied.
Arabella looked at the cards; they said Lady DuPont, Lady Phillips, and Mrs. Irons. “I do not know any of these people. Where are they, Buttons?”
“On the front step, my lady, I told them I had to see if you were in. What shall I tell them?” Buttons asked.
“Oh goodness, please ask them in and place them in the small sitting room, it still has all its furniture,” Arabella rose. “Is Marcus back yet?”
“No, ma’am. But Lady Penelope is up and with the young masters; I could ask her to come down while you change,” Buttons suggested.
“Oh yes, please, and ask Cook for some tea,” Arabella replied.
“Shall I ask Mia to attend you, my lady?” Buttons asked.
Arabella flushed as she looked down at her worn and faded gown. “Oh, yes, please, tell her to come to my work room as I don’t wish to disturb Tristan.”
“Very good, my lady,” Buttons gave her a nod and strode quickly away.
Arabella took off her apron, placing it on her workbench, and then hurried out of the Conservatory to make her way up the back steps. She was heading towards her workroom when she saw Mia appear, standing there waiting for her, with two gowns draped over her arm.
“Ah, my lady, I was working on another gown when I heard several carriages pull up. I looked out and saw the visitors arrive. I thought you’d need something to wear. I finished both of these last night.” Mia said, nodding to the gowns. Both gowns were made of fine muslin and trimmed with lace. One was light green and the other a light sky blue with a very full skirt.
Arabella felt a sense of relief and gave Mia a broad smile, “Thank you, Mia, you are wonderful. Which one should I wear? I’ve never had to entertain ladies of the ton before?”
“Mr. Buttons said the ladies are two baronesses and the wife of a Baronet, so you outrank them both, my lady. Both gowns are suitable, but I would suggest the green, it will look lovely with your eyes,” Mia replied.
“Oh yes, the green one then,” Arabella replied. Arabella motioned for Mia to follow her into her workroom, so she could change without having to disturb Tristan. Arabella felt a wave of nerves assault her and was glad that she had only had toast that morning. This would be the first time she would be entertaining a member of the ton in London. Elizabeth had warned her that the gossips in London were even worse than those at home. Elizabeth had also warned her that if she made a mistake entertaining the ton would tear her to shreds. As Tristan’s wife, she didn’t want to do anything that would cast him into a bad light or make him regret marrying her.
Ten minutes later, Arabella slowly descended the main steps to see Buttons standing outside the parlor door. Mia, in a mere ten minutes, had not only helped Arabella change her gown but also quickly styled her hair into an elegant chignon. When she stepped off the last step Buttons gave her a reassuring smile, then opened the door of the parlor wide, and Arabella stepped inside.
“Her ladyship Countess Layden,” Buttons said as he entered the room behind her.
Arabella quickly scanned the room, taking in the women sitting there. Penelope was dressed in a dark blue muslin day gown and drinking tea with three older ladies. The women were all dressed in fine muslin day gowns; one was in dark pink, one dark yellow, and one light green. The ladies all rose as Arabella entered, and nodded to her, and one dipped a curtsey to her. Arabella was about to curtsey herself when she remembered that she outranked them all.
“Please, ladies, sit. I’m sorry for not greeting you earlier, but I was working in my atrium,” Arabella stated, sitting on the small dark red velvet coach beside Penelope.
“Arabella, let me introduce you to Countess Dupont, Countess Phillips, and Mrs. Irons wife to Baronet Irons of Falworth,” Penelope said, motioning to each of the women in turn.
“Greetings, and how are you all this morning?” Arabella asked, accepting a cup of tea from Penelope.
“It is we who owe you an apology, my lady, but we saw you and your husband last night at the opera last night, but didn’t know who you were. Then later at Lady Barnaby’s after-party, Lord Ramsforth and Sir Kingsworth said that they had met the newcomers and that you were the new lord and Lady Sizemore. Well, we just had to come and meet you.” Countess Dupont stated, smiling at Arabella over her cup of tea.
“Oh, yes, they were both such charming gentlemen,” Penelope added.
Before Arabella could reply, there was the sound of the front door ringing, followed by a vigorous knock. Buttons must have been standing by the door because a moment later, the door opened. Arabella heard it open and muffled voices, then Buttons stepped into the parlor with a silver tray on which were two calling cards.
Buttons bent to extend the tray and calling cards to Arabella.” More visitors, my lady, are you free?”
Arabella took the cards, seeing they were for two baronesses, and the daughter of one.
“Yes, please ask the ladies in and ask Cook to make some more tea,” Arabella asked, sharing the calling cards with Penelope.
Buttons nodded and then pivoted to walk stiffly from the room, and into the foyer to let in the visitors. A moment later, he escorted three women into the parlor, “Lady Barnaby, Lady Jones and her daughter, Violet. Lady Sizemore and Lady Kenyon,” Buttons intoned, as Arabella got to her feet to greet the newcomers.
The three women nodded respectfully to first Arabella and then Penelope as Arabella motioned to the remaining three open chairs.
“Please, ladies, join us, we were just having tea,” Penelope said as the three well-dressed women stepped into the room. Penelope had the feeling that she was being judged and hopefully not found wanting.
* * * *
Tristan came slowly awake, his side and arm throbbing painfully. He opened his eyes to see bright morning sunlight filtering past the closed curtains, his eyes shifted to the mantel clock atop the bureau between the windows, and he saw it was after ten. Hell, he hadn’t slept that late in years, not since India at least. Whatever Bella had put into her tonic had not only eased his pain but put him to sleep. He turned his head and saw Roberts sitting in a padded chair nearby, reading one of Marcus’s penny dreadfuls. Tristan tried to push himself up and hissed in pain, causing Roberts to push to his feet.
“Easy, my lord, you don’t want to start bleeding again,” Roberts admonished.
“No, no, I’m fine. Where is my wife?” Tristan asked, hissing as his side pulled painfully.
“Her ladyship spent all night fussing over you, and didn’t leave your side till after seven this morning, when Mr. Marcus came to check on you,” Roberts replied, “You were feverish and she gave you some of her special tonic.”
Tristan frowned as foggy memories came to him, Arabella leaving over him, and Marcus checking his side.
“Ah, yes, I remember,” Tristan replied. “I’m parched.”
“Her ladyship left some cool tea for you when you woke up. And there is toast with brown sugar and cinnamon here on the table. Her ladyship said that if you tolerate the toast well, you can have porridge. And you are to stay in bed.” Roberts stated, indicating a tray on the table beside him.
Tristan was perishing from thirst but had no wish to drink any more of Arabella’s potent sleep-inducing tea. Something in his expression must have betrayed his thoughts.
“Her ladyship said to tell you it is mint, willow bark, and rose hips. That it will take you pain, fortify you, and settle your stomach if you are feeling unwell.” Roberts poured a full mug of tea, added a good measure of honey, and then brought it to Tristan, who gave him a nod of thanks. Tristan quaffed the sweet tea, then handed the empty mug back to Roberts.
“Do you know where Mr. Marcus is by any chance?” Tristan asked using his right hand to toss back the blankets.
“Aye, my lord, he went out at eight, after checking on you with her ladyship. He said to tell you that he was going to the War Office and then to see your friend Mr. Burns at Scotland Yard to ask about the blighter that attacked you.” Roberts stated.
“And her ladyship?” Tristan asked as more of his memories returned to him. He remembered Arabella tending to him in the middle of the night and a vague memory of her sleeping on the floor beside him. He wanted to see her smiling face and to be sure she was well after last night.
“She is below, sir; you have visitors’ sir, a whole squad of ladies arrived not long ago,” Roberts stated.
“Help me up then,” Tristan stated. He didn’t want Arabella facing a horde of ton biddies alone. Tristan swung his legs over the side of the bed and braced himself to stand up.
“My lord, both Mr. Marcus and her ladyship said you were to stay abed,” Roberts argued.
“Yes, I’m sure. I have suffered worse, and I have to use the necessary, and I refuse to use a chamber pot. Now, please fetch my clothes,” Tristan retorted as he eased himself up gritting his teeth in pain as he stood.
“Are you sure, my lord?” Roberts protested.
“Aye, pour me some more tea please, then fetch my clothes.” Tristan said, hand pressed to his side. He shuffled to the table and grabbed a slice of toast, then, stuffing it into his mouth, shuffled to the bathing chamber. He would be damned if he was going to let Bella face those women alone.
* * * *
Arabella was beginning to feel a bit flustered, and overwhelmed. They were now entertaining ten women who all kept asking questions about Tristan and how they had met, and how long they had been together. Arabella had finally told them something of the truth that she and Tristan had known each other since they were children and that Sir Howard, Tristan’s uncle, had encouraged the union.
Arabella was trying to find more polite ways to deflect questions when Marcus, Victor, and Jules sauntered into the parlor. The moment the women saw the men, they all went instantly quiet.
“Good heavens, gentlemen, the parlor is full of lovely ladies,” Marcus said, earning a chorus of giggles.
Arabella had to admit that Marcus and Victor both looked very handsome dressed in their dark, tailored suits. She was also relieved at the men’s arrival as the focus was no longer on her but on the three handsome men.
“Ladies, may I introduce Mr. Marcus Berkley, who served with my husband and now who works with him at the War Office,” Arabella said, rising to indicate Marcus, who executed a perfect bow to the ladies. “And this is Mr. Victor Waterhouse, a distinguished publisher and gentleman,” Arabella said, and Victor bowed low, giving the ladies all a smile.
“What a lovely group of ladies, it is a pleasure,” Victor said, giving them all a devastating smile.
“And this fine gentleman is Mr. Jules Burns, who also served with my husband and Mr. Berkley and who is now an inspector at Scotland Yard,” Arabella said, making the last of the introductions.
The ladies all tittered and smiled as the men tried to make themselves comfortable against the walls.
“Oh yes, Mr. Waterhouse, we saw you last night at the opera with Lady Arabella, Lord Tristan, Lady Kenyon, and Mr. Berkley.” Lady Bishop said, “Then later at Lady Barnaby’s after party, Lord Ramsworth said he’d had the pleasure to meet you all. We have all seen your wedding announcement in the papers Lady Sizemore. We have all been waiting for you to venture out into society before we introduced ourselves. It’s just new blood this early in the season is always exciting,”
“We quite understand,” Penelope said, giving Lady Bishop an understanding smile.
Before Arabella was forced to reply, there was the sound of footsteps, and Tristan stepped into the room.
Tristan was a bit pale, but otherwise, he looked devastatingly handsome. He’d been freshly shaved, his long unruly hair had been tamed, and he was wearing a dark grey suit jacket, silver grey waistcoat, and dove grey breeches, all over the perfect image of a lord.
“Aye, ladies, forgive me for being late, but I had business to attend to. Thank you all for coming to visit us,” Tristan said, smiling broadly.
Arabella hurried to his right side and took his arm, not sure whether she was there for Tristan or herself.
The ladies all bobbed their heads in greeting; a few rose to dip curtsies to Tristan. Tristan nodded to them, reminding himself that he was an earl now and only had to bow to those above him in rank, which was not many.
“I hate to break up your tea party, ladies, but I have need of my wife,” Tristan said.
The ladies looked at each other, then as one they pushed to their feet, muttering thank yous and other platitudes. As they filed past Tristan and Arabella, some paused to give their cards to Arabella or Penelope and invite them to upcoming events. When the last of them were gone, Buttons removed the knocker from the door and locked it behind them.
“Thank you, Buttons,” Tristan stated.
“You are welcome, sir. Her ladyship, the Dowager, was most put out that, shall we say that none of the ladies were here to see her. I told her that they were for Lady Arabella and Lady Penelope, and after some discussion, I convinced her ladyship that perhaps staying in her chamber would be best.” Buttons replied, with a hint of a smile.
“You are a genius, thank you, Buttons,” Tristan replied, gritting his teeth against the pain in his side.
“Thank you for your help, Penelope. You saved my life. I was at a loss for what to do.” Arabella said, giving Penelope a hug.
“You are welcome; I was actually enjoying myself for a time. Kenyon never let me have quests.” Penelope replied, returning the hug. “I shall go check on the boys now; I promised I would take them to the park. Mr. Waterhouse, thank you for last night. I had a delightful time, considering everything.”
Victor gave her a nod. “It was my pleasure, Lady Penelope. Once Tristan has recovered, we can try for another night out.”
“I would enjoy that, Mr. Waterhouse,” Penelope turned to Jules, “And Mr. Burns, hopefully I will see you later?”
Jules gave her a smile and a bow, “As do, I my lady,”
Penelope gave Jules a devastating smile and walked from the room in a swish of skirts. As soon as she was gone, both Marcus and Penelope turned to glare at Tristan.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Arabella demanded.
“I heard we had guests and didn’t want you to face them alone. I would have come sooner, but it took me a while to dress,” Tristan said. “Do not be angry, Bella, I’m fine, a bit sore but fine.”
Arabella nodded, biting her lower lip to stop herself from crying, it wouldn’t do to turn into a watering pot in front of the others. “It’s just there was so much blood, and I was so frightened. And, I love you Tristan , I was so afraid.”
Tristan used his good arm to pull Arabella against him, “I love you too. And you can ask Marcus I’m bloody hard to kill, now let’s all go into the office and talk.”
“Don’t worry Arabella, Tristan is a tough bugger.” Marcus gave Arabella a reassuring smile, “I hope you don’t mind but I filled Victor in on everything when I encountered him outside. I figured Victor was trustworthy and that we could use his help.”
“No, no, you are right, come, to the office gentlemen. The walls have ears,” Tristan said softly and walked carefully across the hall and into the office. When they were all inside, Marcus shut and locked the door after them. Then, as Tristan eased into the chair behind the desk, Marcus stepped up to the secret panel and eased it open, checking to be sure no one was hiding inside.
“A secret passage?” Jules stated in disbelief.
“Aye, I found it by accident. Jules tell Tristan and Arabella about what your attacker said.” Marcus prompted closing the passage again and then dragging a chair up to the desk.
“Well, it took a bit of convincing. I told him that if he helped me and the yard that instead of hanging for attacking a peer he would be transported he became most helpful, It turns out that a gentleman and a lady approached him and his friend and offered them ten pounds each to, well to kill Tristan.” Jules said bluntly.
“Was he able to describe the man and the woman?” Tristan asked.
“Aye, he said the man was thin, sort of weasel faced and I showed him a copy of the drawing you made of Mr. Keene and he identified him as the man.” Jules replied.
“What about the woman?” Marcus prompted.
“He said she was older, tall, thin, long nose and blonde hair with lots of grey.” Jules replied.
“Then not Miriam.” Arabella said.
“No, not Miriam. You said she is only about thirty; the woman with Mr. Keene was much older. It would be helpful if I had her image. Do you think you could sketch her as you did Mr. Keene? It would be helpful to have.” Jules stated.
Tristan frowned, “As I said drawing, people is not my strength. What about you, Bella? Do you think you could sketch her?”
Arabella made a face as she thought, but after a moment she nodded. “I can try. I have an extra sketch book in the desk,” Arabella moved from her seat beside the desk to behind it, and pulling open the top left drawer, took out a pad of paper and several pencils. She set the pad on the desk top and then, using her foot, dragged her chair over and, sitting began, to sketch.
“I have other news as well, on a tip from Marcus; I decided to look into the issue of Mr. Keene and the excessive amount of clothing he purchased for your father and brothers. Marcus sent me several tailors’ tags he found inside the garments, and I went to the tailors to question them.” Jules stated.
“Forgive me, my head is a bit sore and I’m not sure I am following,” Tristan stated.
“It was something you said shortly after we arrived, and we began going through all the clothes. You wondered if it was some form of embezzlement plan by Mr. Keene. Most of the clothes didn’t have tags, but the last batch I was going through with Mr. Roberts still had the tags from the tailors. I sent them with a note to Jules to look into; I figured Scotland Yard investigating would have more clout than us. I hope you don’t mind. I was going to tell you after the opera, but well.” Marcus shrugged.
“No, it is fine, it was a good idea. So what did you discover?” Tristan asked.
“Well, the first tailor was Haskins. I went with one of my men, and after a bit of pressure, the head tailor confessed to inflating the prices of the garments he sold your father and brothers.” Jules reached into his jacket to pull out a small notebook and then flipped through it, finally stopping halfway through. “A Mr. Skeffington confessed that almost a year ago, Mr. Keene came into the shop with garments that he proclaimed to belong to your father. He asked for several new coats and breeches to be made in the same size as the items he’d brought in. When Mr. Skeffington was working up the estimate for the items to be made, Mr. Keene suggested that the price be elevated substantially. Mr. Keene said that he would then share the difference in the actual price and what was paid by your father with Mr. Skeffington.”
“Good lord, dare I ask how much my family was paying and how much the actual price was?” Tristan asked. He was both appalled and in awe of the plane Mr. Keene had created to fleece his family.
“Well, a full suit of clothes, coat, waistcoat, and matching breeches made of fine linen, cotton or wool, should cost ten pounds; they were charging your family fifty pounds and then splitting the difference,” Jules replied, looking up from his notes. “I seized all the accounting books and records from the tailors, and as of this morning, my men believe that Mr. Skeffington sold your family 150 suits of clothes. After going through the records, we discovered that your family is not the only one that Mr. Skeffington has been fleecing.”
“Dear God that is what three thousand pounds?” Tristan gasped. Three thousand pounds was an enormous sum of money.
“Aye, it could be higher as they are still combing through the accounts. Now not, satisfied with fleecing your family by overcharging for a suit of clothes, Mr. Keene would then sell the garments back to either the tailors or to a second-hand shop and again pocket the profits.” Jules added. “I am friends with the magistrate that has been assigned to the case; he also served in India and knows what you did for King and Country. He sent an order to Mr. Skeffington’s bank and seized his accounts.”
“And how is that going to help me?” Tristan asked.
“It would seem that Mr. Skeffington was a very greedy and very busy man; he has over thirty thousand pounds in his account. Once all the books have been gone through, and we have all of Mr. Skeffington’s confession, the funds from his account shall be dispersed to those he fleeced. Which means you should get back at least three thousand pounds.” Jules replied.
“Well, that should be a help, thank you, Jules,” Tristan replied. An additional three thousand pounds would go a long way to settling the remaining debts.
“There are still two other tailors to question. When I’m done, I suspect you should be getting back even more funds.” Jules stated. With a nod he snapped his notebook shut and slipped it into his jacket.
“Thank you again. I don’t know what to say. What you found out also answers several questions we had, not the least of which was why there are several hundred suits of clothes upstairs.” Tristan stated.
“I’m not finished with my investigation yet or my news. When I explained everything to the magistrate, he was incensed. He wrote a statement that will be posted in the trades stating that an imposter was going around London impersonating you, Tristan. And that any bills run up before your arrival were to be reported to the Yard, and that you are not responsible for. I tried to argue with him to wait till I caught the imposter but, Judge Rollins was irate. He also gave me this for you.” Jules reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. Standing he leaned over the desk to hand it to Tristan.
Tristan took it with a nod and, using a letter opener, opened the sealed envelope. He pulled out the two sheets of paper inside and saw that there were two copies of the same letter clearing Tristan of any debts occurred before the date of his arrival in London a few months ago. Tristan handed them and the envelope to Arabella to read.
“Thank you, Jules, that is indeed useful and helpful. Tristan, tell them what the man said last night before he attacked you,” Arabella prompted.
“You are right. The man said that he was to deliver a message; the message was that I was to never have returned to England.” Tristan stated.
“That is an odd comment, but it makes sense now,” Marcus commented.
“Indeed, it does. You returned Tristan and ruined whatever plans this imposter had made, which is why they attacked you. If you are out of the way, the imposter can go back to trying to steal your life.” Victor stated.
“You are undoubtedly right, it all makes sense. But what I don’t understand is why would someone want to destroy my family? My father was a blowhard and a tyrant but he did not cheat at cards or even gamble as far as I know.” Tristan paused to think of how to describe his father. He’d been cruel and heavy handed to Tristan but he didn’t know how he treated others.
“Your father was also a bit of a philanderer, according to what you and Penelope have told me. Do you think some cuckold husband might have set his sights on your family?” Marcus commented, looking over at Tristan.
“It seems awfully extreme to get revenge, bankrupting my family, then killing off all the men in it?” Wouldn’t simply calling father out have been easier? And what do Mr. Keene, this fake doctor Fletcher, Miriam, and some woman have in common? I’m mystified.” Tristan shook his head.
“Perhaps it is not an angry husband but an angry woman. Tristan’s attacker told you that there was a woman with Mr. Keene, an older woman. That would make more sense than an enraged husband. Perhaps it is a woman that your father wronged in some way,” Arabella suggested then saw the stunned looks on the men around her. “No that is a foolish idea.”
“No, not at all. It makes sense in a way. Father had his share of lovers from what my uncle Howard told me. But what could he have done to cause someone to plot to kill my whole family?” Tristan shook his head in denial.
“That is a good question that we can’t answer today. But I’m sure we will find the answer in time.” Arabella replied. “How does this look?” Arabella held up her drawing of Miriam.
“Good heavens you captured her perfectly,” Tristan said as Arabella handed him the sketch admiring Arabella’s creation. “You did far better than I could have.” Tristan put the sketch pad on the desk and pushed it across the desk wincing as his side pulled.
“Thank you, but you are better at landscapes than I am,” Arabella replied pleased by Tristan’s comment.
“Hmm, not an unattractive woman, do you know her last name by any chance?” Jules asked pulling the drawing off the pad and showing it to Victor before carefully rolling it up and slipping it into his inner jacket pocket.
Tristan, Arabella and Marcus all looked at each other, then each shook their head.
“No, it is odd, but it has never been mentioned,” Arabella said.
“Indeed, I have tried to dismiss her several times for being rude and argumentative, but she claims she has a contract that says she can’t be terminated. But every time I ask to see the contract, either Miriam or my mother makes up some excuse as to why I can’t read it,” Tristan replied. “I have written to my land agent at Rawlings and sent him funds to hire a cook and two new footmen. I asked him to begin preparing the house for my mother and Miriam. I mean to send them both there by the month’s end. I am tired of dealing with them and tired of having to look over my shoulder constantly.”
“Well, this drawing will help. I will have copies of it made and distributed to the runners. If there is something to be discovered about her, they will find it. I also wrote to the magistrate of Thornton and asked him for everything that he has on Mortimer Lester. This fellow tried to kill a peer and kidnap two ladies of quality. Why the magistrate didn’t do more puzzles me.” Jules stated. The mantel clock chimed eleven thirty, and Jules slipped his notebook into his jacket. “And one last thing, my superiors agreed with me that you need to be protected. Starting tomorrow morning, two of my men shall report here pretending to be footmen. Men shall also be posted in rotating shifts in the park out front.”
Tristan exchanged looks with Arabella and then Marcus, who nodded.
“Thank you, Jules, I think we shall all sleep better knowing we have help,” Arabella replied.
“You are welcome; please give my apologies to Lady Penelope for missing lunch. But I have to go, I want to speak to those other tailors. I’m meeting several of my men to go and question the other two tailors. I will send a note around afterwards with what I find out. Despite your assurances, you look a bit gray, Tristan, I think you need to return to your bed,” Jules rose and gave Tristan and Arabella a nod.
“ You have my thanks too, Jules, I appreciate all you have done,” Tristan said, giving his friend a grateful smile, when Jules waved for him to stay seated.
“No need, besides, if I solve this, I’ll likely get another promotion. Solving the murder of a peer brings you a lot of notice.” Jules replied.
“I’ll walk you out,” Marcus rose and stepped up to the office door to unlock it. He slowly opened the door and peered out into the foyer to see Miriam hovering a few feet away, pretending to arrange some flowers while shooting Buttons evil looks.
“Ah, hello Miriam,” Marcus said loudly, “It is good to see you out and about.”
“I was just waiting for Lady Penelope to return from the park,” Miriam shut him a hard look, then practically ran up the stairs to the second floor.
“I was here waiting for her Ladyship and the young masters to return and she came down, kept trying to listen at the door.” Buttons stated softly, looking from Marcus to the steps and back.
“Thank you, Buttons,” Marcus replied softly.
Buttons merely nodded and stepped up to the small table on the side of the hall and began polishing it.
“So that is Miriam, definitely an odd female,” Jules stated as Marcus let him out the door. “Marcus, take care of Tristan and yourself. You are two of my oldest friends; I’d hate to lose you.”
“The feeling is mutual, I’ll call on you tomorrow,” Marcus said as Jules stepped through the door.
Marcus closed the door after Jules and turned to see Arabella watching him. Her eyes went from him to the upper floor, and her eyebrows rose. Marcus nodded as he stepped back into the office and closed the door after him.
“Buttons prevented our lurker from eavesdropping,” Marcus commented before dropping into the nearest chair.
“Remind me to give Buttons a raise,” Tristan said softly. His side was now burning, and he was beginning to regret getting out of bed.
“I should be going as well, you need your rest.” Jules stated.
“Before you go, Victor, I have these for you,” Arabella crossed to the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer to pull out a folder. “I started on your list of illustrations, and Tristian managed to do a few India ink one’s for you and five illustrations.” Arabella took the folder and, stepping around the desk, handed tit to Victor. “And thank you for last night, I loved the opera.”
Victor took the folder with a nod and opened it to flip carefully through the contents, smiling as he saw what was inside.
“These are amazing; I will give them to my editor today so we can begin laying out the book. And I’m glad you liked the opera, and I am sorry about what happened. Perhaps we can try it again?” Victor asked.
“Yes, thank you, we both enjoyed the opera and the gardens, and we would love to accompany you again, and what happened was not your fault,” Tristan stated. “Though your prediction that it would bring us unwanted attention was scarcely accurate.”
“Indeed, I was overwhelmed when I had ten ladies to entertain at once; we were running out of chairs for them all,” Arabella added.
“I did warn you that once people knew you were in residence, you would become popular,” Victor gave Tristan and Arabella a rueful smile. “Not only are you new blood for the ton biddies to gossip about, but you are all rather attractive and intelligent people. Arabella, I shall begin with you. You are very beautiful. If you were a debutant, you would likely be called a diamond and have men flock to you hoping to gain your attention. And it is not just your face and form that is pleasing your intelligence shines from your eyes. Then there is your pleasing nature, and your kindness. I would go on but Tristan would likely give me a facer.”
Arabella was now blushing mightily, “Thank you, though I feel you exaggerate.”
“No, he isn’t, you are all that he said and more,” Tristan said, giving Arabella a soft smile that made her blush.
“And now, Tristan, you are a decorated war hero, young, handsome, fit, and an earl. You are also pleasant and shockingly honest; most of the men of the ton are lazy, unfit, and lie like rugs. If you were not married, you would likely be beset by every marriage-minded maiden and their mother at every function you attend.” Victor gave Tristan a grin, as Tristan shook his head in denial.
“You exaggerate about by appeal I’m sure, but thank you.” Tristan replied.
“I would disagree, but I will not argue with you. And now Marcus,” Victor turned to look at Marcus, “You are rather shockingly attractive, also a war hero. You are friends with an earl and your family is friends with a duchess, you own property and are now receiving a good yearly income. Unmarried misses who have no hope of marrying a member of the peerage will likely pursue you in the hope that by befriending you or marrying you they will have access to the peerage. You will likely also be pursued by bored wives and widows.” Victor stated. “All in all the three of you are likely to become all the rage.”
“I don’t know if we wish to be all the rage,” Tristan remarked dryly.
“I would not dismiss what Victor says; he made an important point. If someone has been impersonating you, then the more people who know that you are the true Earl Sizemore, the better. And thank you for your comments Vincent,” Marcus stated.
“I merely spoke the truth, and Marcus is correct, you need to become visible and popular. You will likely be inundated with invitations in the next few days; you need to accept them all. You need to be seen everywhere, and you need to make friends, lots of friends. Then, when the imposter tries to move against you he will fail as everyone will know you are the real Tristan Sizemore.” Victor stated. “Now I will let you get some rest. I will visit in two days’ time. And send for me if you need anything,” Jules rose, the portfolio pressed against his chest.
“Thank you again, Victor. I seem to be saying that a lot lately, but I do appreciate your help.” Tristan stated.
“No need, but you are welcome. And in turn appreciate your friendship. Not many peers are willing to become friends with a commoner, even if he is rich,” Victor gave Tristan a nod.
“I will walk you out, and we can discuss when we can start your boxing training,” Marcus stated, giving him a slap on the back.
Tristan watched his friends go, feeling both overwhelmed by all he had learned, his friends’ loyalty and kindness, and the fact that he was not alone anymore and did not have to fight his battles alone now.
“We need to get you to bed now, you are very pale, and you lost a lot of blood last night,” Arabella said, stepping up to Tristan and holding out her hand.
“I won’t argue, I am a bit weary, and I think I need another dose of your tonic,” Tristan replied taking Arabella’s hand to let her help him up. “But not the sleep-inducing one, the one for pain. I need to try and think.”
“I was not planning on putting you back to sleep you have to eat, you need to rebuild your strength,” Arabella stated as Tristan fought down a curse as his side pulled in pain.
“Do you want to lean on me? I am stronger than I look,” Arabella said as Tristan moved slowly about the desk.
“No, I can make it, and I don’t want Miriam or my mother to know how badly I was injured. Just give me a moment, and I can make it up the stairs,” Tristan gave Arabella a nod, “And if I wasn’t injured, I would show you how lovely I thought you looked last night.”
Arabella blushed and, standing on tiptoes brushed a kiss against Tristan’s lips.
“Enough of that, you two,” Marcus drawled from the door. He pushed the door shut behind him and stepped up to Tristan. “Come on, we can take the back steps, that way I can help you and no one will see us. Arabella can go ahead and be sure that no one is about.”
“Very well,” Tristan accepted Marcus help as they shuffled towards the hidden steps.
“I thought you should know that I told our superiors at the War Office what happened, and they were rather put out by the fact that someone tried to kill you. Apparently you are very valuable to them, and they plan to start their own investigation.” Marcus said as Arabella opened the door to the hidden passage.
“Well that is gratifying; they could have expressed their gratitude to both of us years ago.” Tristan said dryly.
“I agree, I thought you should also know that I hired three men today. Two will be footmen and one will be my groom and stable master. They were some of the soldiers before the War Department looking for work, and names Roberts recommended.” Marcus stated, “But for the time being they will all serve as footmen.”
“You hired men?” Tristan gave Marcus a puzzled look.
“Aye, well, I have a house now and a barn and when we return to Avondale, I will need workers. I have my back pay, my bonus and Victor said he will pay me for more stories. Those men need work, and we need someone we can trust.” Marcus replied.
“No, I think it is a capital idea. Once I know where I stand with all the debts, and have a steady source of income, I would like to hire some of the men there, too.” Tristan replied as they stepped through the door and into the passage way.
“One issue at a time, I have some dispatches with me that they wanted us to review. Once we have eaten lunch, we can go over them, and I shall write up our report. Now up you go and Tristan no more fighting knife-wielding attackers alone, after everything we went through in India, I refuse to lose you to some insane revenge-minded person,” Marcus commented. His words were teasing but his face was serious and his eyes full of concern.
“Thank you, and Marcus, I feel the same. Don’t do anything foolish,” Tristan replied, earning a snort of laughter from Marcus. “I will do my best.”