Midnight Pleasures with a Scoundrel

Chapter 11

Swindler couldn’t deny that relief swamped him when he stepped into Rockberry’s library with Sir David and didn’t smell Eleanor’s familiar rose scent. While he knew it was impossible for her to have been there, to have committed the crime, something nagged at him. She’d been in his arms from the moment they departed Frannie’s ball.

He wished he’d been here before the body was removed. It could have told him so much. But apparently when Sir David had come searching for him, he was still traveling through London with Eleanor, kissing her in the carriage before they’d decided to return to his lodgings.

Blood marred the carpet. Two wineglasses sat upon the side table. That bothered him.

“What time did you say you saw the lady enter?” Swindler asked the new Lord Rockberry. Swindler had been surprised to discover that he was the blond-haired man who’d accosted Eleanor at Cremorne Gardens.

“A few minutes after midnight.”

“And you’re certain it was Miss Watkins?”

“Yes.”

“The same Miss Watkins that you attacked at Cremorne?”

“I didn’t attack her,” he said impatiently. “My friends and I were going to have a bit of fun with her. I knew she was following my brother. He was none too pleased with the police not taking more effective action. Thought to scare her off.”

“We have a witness who says Miss Watkins was with him last night,” Sir David said.

“Then your witness is lying,” the new Rockberry said with confidence.

Swindler and Sir David exchanged glances. He saw no doubt in Sir David’s eyes. He’d not considered when he placed Eleanor’s reputation at risk that he was also placing his own.

“I believe you have the right of it,” Swindler said. “Someone is lying, but I suspect it’s you.”

“For what purpose?” the young Rockberry asked.

“To gain the title.”

“Don’t be daft, man. I didn’t want this. It comes with responsibilities, duties. My brother gave me a generous allowance, and I was a true gentleman of leisure. I cared nothing for the title.”

“Why do you suppose Miss Watkins wanted to kill him?” Swindler asked.

“Something to do with her sister. My brother…as much as it pains me to say it-and I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead-was not always kind to women.”

“He took advantage of Elisabeth Watkins?”

“In all likelihood, yes.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Swindler said. “I have no further questions at this time.”

After the marquess left, Sir David asked, “So what are you thinking, Swindler?”

“His brother had the most to gain, although I suppose it’s possible there is another woman who was wronged and sought revenge. The new Lord Rockberry simply misidentified her.”

“You’re quite certain it wasn’t Miss Watkins?”

“From the moment I first danced with her, near ten o’clock, she never left my arms.”

“Before that?”

“Never left my sight.”

“What time did you leave the ball?”

“Half past eleven.”

“I do hope this nasty matter doesn’t come down to your word against the new Rockberry’s.”

“I shall do all in my power to ensure that it doesn’t.”

Nodding, Sir David sighed. “Right. So what is your plan?”

“Make inquiries, see if I can find this mysterious woman. If nothing comes of that, then I suspect we’ll find ourselves arresting the new Lord Rockberry.”

“Before we do that, just make bloody sure we’ve got the right of it.”

“Yes, sir. I always do.”

“I know, but I thought it bears repeating. This situation needs to be handled very delicately, Swindler.”

Swindler spent two more hours at Rockberry’s, making sketches of the room, trying to notice anything that appeared out of place. He questioned the servants. No one saw a lady arrive, so the only way she could have entered was if one of the Lords Rockberry had admitted her.

His next step would be to see if he could find another lady who’d been taken advantage of. It was always possible that she wasn’t of the nobility. He would have to give more scrutiny to Rockberry’s papers and documents. Some clue might be hidden within them. He would also talk with Catherine. She’d been of little help when it came to Elisabeth Watkins, but she might know of another lady.

But before he moved forward with the investigation, he wanted to see Eleanor again. He wanted to comfort and reassure her. He also intended to ask for her hand in marriage. He couldn’t deny that it was a hasty proposal, delivered in part to spare her reputation, but he also had to admit that he’d never been as drawn to a woman as he was to her. The hours she spent in his bed had seemed far too short. He thought it very likely that they could have a good life together.

Still in possession of Luke’s carriage, he made his way to Eleanor’s lodging house and knocked briskly on the door.

When Mrs. Potter opened it, he didn’t wait for an invitation, but simply brushed past her. “Will you please inform Miss Watkins that I have come to call?”

Mrs. Potter closed the door. “I’m afraid she’s gone, sir.”

He could well imagine Eleanor needing to walk, needing to brush off the scare she’d had that morning when she was arrested. She’d find comfort in the park, no doubt. Or perhaps she’d walked elsewhere. He could go in search of her or simply wait. He had no doubt she wouldn’t be gone long. He faced Mrs. Potter. “If you’ve no objection, I’ll wait in the parlor for her return.”

“I fear you’ll be waiting a dreadfully long time. I don’t think she’s planning to return, sir. She packed her bags. Told me not to worry about the days remaining to her, that I was welcome to hire the room out to someone else. That she’d no longer need it. She left two packages.”

Stunned beyond measure, feeling as though his body had turned to stone, Swindler watched her go into the parlor. He looked at the stairs. That was where he needed to go. He needed-

“Here, sir!”

As though someone else controlled his legs, he walked into the parlor.

“The large box there is addressed to the Duchess of Greystone. I suspect it’s the lovely gown she brought over for Miss Watkins. Then she left this for you. I suspect I know what it is as well.”

Swindler opened the velvet box and stared at the pearls that only that morning had adorned Eleanor’s lovely throat. He felt as though one of the bullies from the rookeries had plowed his fist into his gut. “Are you quite certain she’s left for good?”

“Yes, sir. Bit hard to miss when she hired a couple of lads to carry out her trunk.”

She was gone? After everything they’d shared, she was gone?

The words kept echoing through his head, blocking out all other thoughts.

She was gone.

As the train rumbled over the tracks, Eleanor stared at her reflection in the window. The deed was done. She should have seen satisfaction on her countenance, staring back at her. Instead, in spite of her best efforts, she saw a touch of regret. She shifted her gaze over to another reflection, one remarkably similar to hers.

“Why the long face, Emma?” she asked.

“I began to fall in love with him, Eleanor.”

“Well, that was a rather silly thing to do, now wasn’t it?”

Emma blushed, but then she tended to do so quite easily. It was the one area in which they differed, but no one in London would know that since neither of them had visited the town before a month ago. They’d known no one in London when they arrived. The advantage to having a reclusive father who’d never felt deserving of his title.

“What would have been the harm in me staying?” Emma asked.

“A careless word, Emma, a misstep, and we’d both find ourselves hanging from the gallows. Once we realized Mr. Swindler was following us, and you encountered him at the park, the natural course was to use him. You should be grateful for the short time you had.”

Silently Emma nodded before dropping her eyes to her gloved hands balled in her lap. He’d seemed like the answer to their prayers.

She followed the man who was following Eleanor through Cremorne Gardens. Like Eleanor, she believed he was Rockberry’s man. For good or ill, though, she couldn’t say. She’d first spotted him the night Rockberry had gone to Scotland Yard. She and Eleanor always kept an eye on each other, taking extreme care in never being seen together, but always trying to keep the other within her sight.

As she rounded the curve, she caught a glimpse of Eleanor surrounded by three men who suddenly began pulling her into the shadows. Her heart leapt into her throat. She started to rush forward, to scream when she saw the pursuer quicken his pace. By the time she was in a position to better see what was happening, he had his arm protectively around Eleanor and was obviously trying to leave the area.

Then one of the blokes took a swing-

She’d never seen a fight before, had never witnessed anyone coming to blows. The large, powerful man made short work of the bullies, and then his arm was again around Eleanor, leading her away from the men who writhed on the ground.

Her heart was pounding for a different reason now-no longer because of fear over Eleanor’s safety, but because she’d never seen anyone as magnificent as the man who’d come to her sister’s rescue.

Following them out of the gardens, always keeping to the shadows, always watchful, she arrived at the entrance just as he was helping Eleanor into a hansom cab. She saw Eleanor leave. Then the man climbed into another hansom.

“Follow her at a discreet pace.”

As the driver sent the vehicle into motion, she scurried from her hiding place and gave similar words to the driver of the hansom she entered. “Follow him.”

Just as he had, she disembarked on another street. She carefully made her way to the lodging house, again keeping to the shadows, until she spotted him observing the building. Eventually he went to the door.

After he left, she remained as she was for another hour before she saw the signal in the window-the draperies drawn closed-to indicate that Mrs. Potter had retired for the evening. It was safe to come in.

Once inside her room, she hugged Eleanor tightly. “You were accosted. I saw.”

“And I was rescued. Did you see him?” Eleanor asked, working herself free of Emma’s clinging embrace.

“Yes, of course.”

“His name is James Swindler.”

“You went with him! Do you know how dangerous that was when we know nothing about him?”

Eleanor sat in a nearby rocker, staring at the empty hearth. “Was he the man who’s been following me?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter. We must stop this madness of trying to avenge Elisabeth on our own. We should go to the police.”

“He may very well be the police. Do you not see how this works to our advantage? If he’s following you while I do the deed, we have our alibi. I can’t possibly be at two places at once. It’s what we planned all along, only better. The word of a policeman will be above reproach. The perfect crime.”

So they had decided to try to seduce him, to bring him even closer. But it was Emma who had been seduced. As the train took her farther from London, she wondered how she could have not known how much she would come to care for James in such a short time.

She tried to imagine his reaction when he arrived at Mrs. Potter’s, and discovered that Emma-or Eleanor as he knew her-was gone. Even Mrs. Potter had been unaware there were two sisters sharing the same living accommodations. They’d timed their comings and goings so no one was the wiser. They would have taken rooms in different lodgings but money was scarce and it seemed silly to spend money that didn’t need to be spent.

Along with Elisabeth, they’d had a lifetime of fooling people, of arranging pranks where they pretended to be each other or caused others to question who they’d really seen.

It had been so incredibly easy in London because their father had never taken all three daughters there, and apparently had never even announced that he’d been graced with three daughters. As they weren’t sons, he’d deemed them insignificant.

Until it came time to send one to the city for a Season. Then suddenly he’d had hopes of a good marriage and money being available for his other daughters. Emma had loved her father dearly, but his head had always been in the clouds. She didn’t even know exactly what he’d done for the Crown to be honored with a title.

Now, watching the passing rolling hills, she wondered what James would think of them. It had been so difficult to say good-bye to him, knowing it was forever, knowing she would never again taste his kiss or feel his touch. Knowing she’d never again hear his voice or look into his eyes.

“What if he tries to find us, Eleanor? That man at Scotland Yard said he was the best.”

“You told him we live to the north, didn’t you?” Her sister shrugged. “He’ll give up long before he thinks to look to the south.”

Would he give up? Would he even begin to search for her? Or would he simply accept that she’d left?

Emma had become so good at living a life of deception. She’d even lied to Eleanor with such ease that it had been almost frightening. As far as Eleanor knew, she and James had simply ridden around London in the carriage until dawn. Her sister had no idea that she’d sacrificed her virginity or spent the night in James’s bed.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, wondering if she might be carrying James’s child, surprised to discover that the thought brought her a great deal of joy. She didn’t think she’d ever feel for another man the way she felt about him.

He was so generous, so giving. She was grateful for every second she’d spent in the company of James Swindler.

Still, just once Emma would have liked to have heard him whisper her name.