The Earl's Iron Warrant (The Duke's Pact Book 6) Page 11
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Charles had got the key to Lord Childress’ bedchamber from Bellamy. His butler had seemed annoyed that Burke trailed their every step and Charles was certain the old fellow had a laundry list of complaints he wished to air. His toes had been so recently insulted by Mrs. Jellops, and then Mrs. Broadbent seemed to make a career out of offending him. Now, it seemed Mrs. Broadbent had set herself up as the heroine of the break-in, while Bellamy came off as an idiot shouting at the wind.
Though Charles was not sorry to miss whatever tirade Bellamy had in store, he was annoyed at Burke’s following as well. What was the purpose of the fellow pushing in? Did he suppose Miss Danworth would swoon over the idea that he’d put himself forward to thumb through some papers? Did he think she would throw over all of her ideas just because he’d indicated he wished to be helpful? He would go and say he did not mind reading through papers? What a bit of nonsense, absolutely everybody minded reading a pile of papers.
They had reached the top of the landing and made their way down the east wing. Charles found the door and unlocked it, pushing it open.
Childress’ room was as dark as his temperament had always been. Charles crossed the room and opened the heavy curtains to let in the light.
There was not much remarkable about the room, other than the general disorderliness of the place. Empty wine bottles sat on the mantle, the bed was barely made, even the bedstead itself was not in order. At the head of it, one of the bedposts was missing, the other an odd bit of metalwork depicting a man atop an eagle. There was a rumpled shirt on the floor, as if the lord’s valet could not be bothered to attend to it, and the grate had not been swept out. Charles supposed the maids he’d hired had taken one look at the room, closed the door, and pretended they’d never seen it at all. It appeared that on Childress’ last visit, he’d decided to leave suddenly, without giving his servants the time to do things properly.
Witnessing the disarray might have been pointless, but for the desk pushed in the far corner of the room.
“I suppose we’d better start there,” Burke said, pointing at the desk.
“I don’t suppose we would start anywhere else,” Charles said.
“What’s put you more out of sorts than usual?” Burke asked. “Please tell me it is not because the housekeeper has bested Bellamy.”
“You are far more ridiculous than my old butler,” Charles said, rummaging through the desk and pulling out papers. “That whole, I don’t mind reading papers business. She won’t marry you, you know.”
Burke had gone a deep shade of pink and Charles knew he’d hit the mark. Burke was not inclined to embarrassment, but just now he looked as if he’d gone to a ball and suddenly realized he’d forgot to wear pants. Miss Minkerton had been correct, Burke was mooning over Miss Danworth.
“I am well aware of my own situation, thank you,” Burke said.
“Then why do you hang around?” Charles said.
“Never mind what I choose to do,” Burke said sharply. “Look to yourself for once. If you are not serious in your pursuit you ought not to appear so. Especially not to a lady so innocent.”
“I am not in any pursuit!” Charles said.
Though, Burke’s words did give him pause. Had his fondness for Miss Danworth been noted? If it had, that would be a mistake. Yes, he admired the lady, but that was only because she was so much elevated above the rest. Nothing more.
But why would Burke make such a point of Miss Danworth being so innocent, as if she were a newborn fawn? Miss Danworth was proper in every way, but she was no foolish ingenue.
Of course, the fellow was in love with her and so he viewed her through his own particular lens. This was precisely why Burke was not the man for Miss Danworth. He did not even understand her.
“Let’s just get on with it,” Burke said.
“Yes,” Charles said, shoving a stack of letters into his hands.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This was Daisy’s first time walking the pier. Though it was the usual place for a promenade, her father had never allowed it. He was of the opinion that all sorts might be met at such a place, and Daisy was only to go to places where one might be sure of who was in attendance. Balls and such in London were perfectly fine, the hostess would keep out the undesirables, but a public pier was altogether different. Daisy had always been perfectly aware that these edicts were not meant to protect her, they were to make sure that her father could suitably crow over a lofty connection gained through her marriage.
Every summer, Daisy and Mrs. Jellops were mostly confined to their own garden, with occasional outings for sea bathing, surrounded by a bevy of footmen. It had taken Daisy some time to realize her father suspected everyone of having the same preference for low company that he did himself. She was also certain the only reason he would ever be opposed to her making a disastrous match was that men of rank would laugh at him.
She had donned a light gray silk day dress and once more found appreciation for Mrs. Belle’s clever designs. The lady had written that this one was particularly meant for walking about on windy days and she had sewn light weights into the hem so that there was no danger of exposing a leg in a sudden gust.
It was a clear day, and Daisy could see the outlines of the coast of France in the distance, and the towns of Deal and Sandwich to the south.
Daisy walked along with Miss Minkerton at her side, while Mrs. Jellops and Mrs. Broadbent had fallen behind. The two older ladies had been talking since the excursion began and Daisy thought they were both enlivened by a conversation with a lady close to their own age.
“It must gratify you, Miss Danworth, to have Lord Dalton investigating the break in. He seems very competent.”
Daisy supposed it should be no surprise that Miss Minkerton wished to direct the conversation to Lord Dalton. Really, she would never have guessed they would have been suited. She would have thought the lord would go for a more worldly and experienced lady, if he ever went for anybody at all. Nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore that something was between them.
She could not deny that the idea still irked. Daisy had been sure that Lord Dalton admired her own sort of temperament, and Miss Minkerton was so entirely different.
“Competent?” she said. “Yes, I suppose he is that. I expect you’ll see quite a lot of him in the upcoming season.”
“Shall I?” Miss Minkerton asked.
Daisy did not know if the lady were being coy. It seemed strange, as Miss Minkerton had not struck her as a lady prone to those sorts of arts.
“Oh yes,” she said. “He will turn up at balls and put himself on your card for supper.”
To Daisy’s surprise, Miss Minkerton appeared a bit distressed over this idea. “I suppose you will come for the season after all,” Miss Minkerton said, “and have a great deal of suppers with Lord Burke.”
“I have dined with Lord Burke in the past,” Daisy said. “Though I would not claim it had ever been a great deal of the time. In any case, I shall sit out this season and dine with nobody. You shall have them both to yourself, your friend and your…whatever he is to be.”
“I could hardly call Lord Dalton a particular friend!” Miss Minkerton said. “And as for any other person, well, he is to be nothing I’m afraid. He will bide his time, surely, you must know it.”
Daisy was entirely confused. She had meant Lord Burke as Miss Minkerton’s friend. How on earth had the lady thought she meant Lord Dalton?
She paused, the confusion beginning to clear. “Miss Minkerton,” she said slowly, “I had presumed, and I am sorry if I have been wrong, that you were developing some feelings of attachment for Lord Dalton.”
Miss Minkerton nearly staggered at the suggestion. “Lord Dalton? Why ever would you think it?”
“Well, the two of you were ever so engaged with one another at the dinner at your house. I had never seen him so engaged. Over nautical maps, of all things. It did seem quite obvious.”
Miss Minkerton touched her palm
s to her cheeks as if to cool them. “I was only trying to pretend I did not care about…”
“About what?”
“Not about what, about who!” Miss Minkerton said, rather vehemently. “I can see very well that Lord Burke is in love with you. Oh, I know you are retired from society, but he will wait. He is a loyal fellow, so there is no doubt of that.”
“Lord Burke?” Daisy said, incredulous. “That is preposterous. We are brother and sister, if we are anything at all.”
“No, you see,” Miss Minkerton said, “it is I who am viewed as the sister.”
Now Daisy began to understand the real case.
“I think I do see,” she said. “You are in love with Lord Burke and had somehow convinced yourself that he and I had developed an attachment. And I had supposed you had developed an attachment to Lord Dalton.”
Miss Minkerton shook her head. “I am only a sister to Harry, though, so it is entirely unrequited.”
“But that might change, might it not?”
Miss Minkerton gazed at the sea. “I did wonder, I hoped, but then when I supposed he was in love with you…”
“Which is a bit of nonsense,” Daisy said.
“If I have been that mixed up,” Miss Minkerton said, “does that mean you have an attachment to Lord Dalton?”
“Certainly not!” Daisy said. “You must dismiss that idea at once. Instead, you must think of how you might subtly communicate that you are no sister to Lord Burke.”
Miss Minkerton sighed, long and deep. “That is a difficulty. You see, we have gone on so many years one way, and now to go another way…”
“But when did you realize your feelings had changed?” Daisy asked. “What was the moment that made you think you’d rather not be as a sister?”
“Oh, my feelings have never changed a jot,” Miss Minkerton said. “I loved him the moment I set eyes on him. I was only thirteen and he was a dashing older boy and well, now, I’ll have to go and marry somebody else!”
“Do not give up so easily,” Daisy counseled.
“Daisy? Miss Minkerton?” Mrs. Jellops called in the distance. “Stop a moment, you leave us quite behind.”
Daisy and Miss Minkerton stopped to allow the other two ladies to catch up to them. It had been a remarkable conversation, so rarely did one ever hear of real feelings or candor from another lady.
As well, she could not help but feel remarkably cheerful over Miss Minkerton’s apparent distaste over the idea of Lord Dalton. As for the lord’s own feelings, that of course was another matter. It was a mystery, really.
Chapter Nine
When Daisy had returned to the house, she’d thought she would rest and then change her clothes for a quiet dinner with only Mrs. Jellops as her company. As it turned out, Lord Dalton had been as highhanded as ever and arranged for guests. He’d left her a note that said there were things to discuss regarding discoveries in her father’s rooms and the most sensible thing to do was to put all heads together. He had taken the liberty of speaking to Flanagan in the kitchens and Lord Burke would inform Miss Minkerton that they were to come to supper. Mrs. Jellops would act as chaperone and so there could be no impropriety.
She had, for a moment, thought to charge over to the cottage and demand that he undo his invitations immediately. She changed her mind when she considered that she might as well hear what had been found, and she would be most interested to observe Lord Burke and Miss Minkerton, and Lord Dalton for that matter, through the glass of the information she now knew.
She put on one of her best dresses, a pale lavender that hinted even the modiste knew she was not too broken up over her father’s demise, and descended the stairs.
Daisy had not much to say to Lord Dalton as they awaited their guests in the drawing room. The only subject that came to mind was decidedly off-limits—are you swooning over Miss Minkerton, and have you noticed that she is swooning over Lord Burke?
Mrs. Jellops helpfully filled in the silences with endless praises of Mrs. Broadbent, which reliably put Mr. Bellamy in a grim state of mind. Then, as if to ensure Lord Dalton would be equally grim, she pointed out that he seemed to have some sort of animal hair on his trousers and suggested Tate use a ball of damp bread dough to pull them off without too much trouble.
Lord Burke and Miss Minkerton arrived in good time, the lady prettily dressed in a fine white lawn that set off her complexion wonderfully. Her maid had accompanied them in the carriage and was sent below stairs to the kitchens where Mr. Flanagan would supply her with a supper. Daisy only hoped the poor girl could keep her appetite amidst the various complaints from her butler and footmen about how badly they were treated.
They had gone through to the dining room without further delay, Daisy taking the head of the table and Lord Dalton taking the bottom. As was custom, Lord Burke was seated to her right and Miss Minkerton to Lord Dalton’s right, while Mrs. Jellops was to her left.
As the first course was brought round, the party was oddly silent. This would have been the moment to speak of the weather, a very reliable topic at every table, and yet all seemed to be waiting for the real subject to be raised.
Once the soup had been delivered and the footmen stepped out to look for the next course, Lord Dalton said, “I believe Burke and I have discovered something, but we are not certain what it is.”
“That is very mysterious,” Daisy said, fiddling with her napkin and attempting to appear composed. She was leery of hearing anything at all of her father’s business. Had there not been a break-in, his bedchamber door would have remained closed forever.
“Miss Danworth,” Lord Burke said, “are you at all familiar with the name Dagobert?”
“No, not at all,” Daisy said, “though if it were one of my father’s cronies I might not be. So many of them were unsavory and if they were not often about the house, I might never know their names.”
“Mrs. Jellops?” Lord Burke asked. “Does this name sound familiar?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Jellops said. “An odd name, though. It does not sound particularly lyrical.”
Daisy suppressed a smile, remembering that the staff in the London house used to refer to Mrs. Jellops as Mrs. Jellies, which they thought suited her ample frame far better than Jellops.
“We do not actually know that it is the name of a man,” Lord Dalton said. “It was never referred to as ‘Mr.’ or ‘sir,’ or any rank of service, only on its own or with the in front of it. As in, the Dagobert.”
“What was the nature of the discussion about Dagobert?” Miss Minkerton asked. “Was it an argument?”
“Not an argument, so much as a questioning,” Lord Dalton said. “There were very many letters between Lord Childress and Lieutenant Farthmore about where Dagobert was or who might know.”
Daisy shivered at the mention of the lieutenant. Of all people, why must he be brought into this?
“Is the lieutenant known?” Miss Minkerton asked.
“Unfortunately, he is,” Daisy said. “He was one of the worst people my father ever associated with and we have seen him since.”
“Wait,” Lord Burke said, “was he the fellow that…”
“That was thrown from the premises,” Daisy finished for him.
“A nasty piece of work, that one,” Mrs. Jellops said.
“He seems to be involved in this conversation with Lord Childress,” Lord Dalton said, “because Dagobert, whoever or whatever it is, returned to England on a boat coming back from the disastrous siege of Tarragona.”
“Perhaps Dagobert owed them a deal of money,” Miss Minkerton said.
“Perhaps,” Lord Burke said. “But there were some references that did seem to imply that Dagobert is a thing, not a person. Things like, whoever has possession of the Dagobert, and get the Dagobert back.”
“Well,” Mrs. Jellops said, “if it is some artwork or other, I cannot think what it might be. Lord Childress was never much of a collector, aside from those books he bragged of to all and sundry.”
“Indeed he did,” Daisy said, “and talked about it everywhere. Though I never heard mention of a Dagobert book or collection. Had he acquired it, he would have advertised it had it the least amount of value. He liked people to know what he had.”
“If he acquired it through usual means he might advertise it,” Lord Burke said. “But if he did not…”
Lord Dalton sighed. “If we looked for a person, inquiries might be made with the navy. But if it is a thing, a thing we do not even know the sort of, I have no idea how we would identify it.”
“Though,” Daisy said, an idea having just come to her, “if it is a thing, it must be of some great value or there would not have been so many questions about it. Or someone to come looking for it in the dead of night, if that is what they were after.”
Lord Dalton nodded in a way that said she had just stated the obvious.
“Something of great value usually has a history and is known. And so, Lord Dalton, we must consult with a person likely to know of such things,” Daisy said, to alert him that she had more ideas than what he deemed obvious. “I must write to Lady Grayson.”
“Lady Grayson!” Lord Burke said. “Capital idea. I have always felt there was nothing she did not know something about, or could not find out about, and she has a plethora of learned connections. But must the letter travel all the way to Sweden and chase her from place to place? I do not recall when they were set to return from their wedding trip.”
“They have returned,” Daisy said, “Kitty wrote me of their expected arrival back to England some weeks ago. They have bought a house in town and are there overseeing renovations of some sort. Or, at least, Kitty is overseeing the library and Lord Grayson is overseeing everything else. I shall write her—she is a diligent sort of person, I doubt we will wait long for an answer.”
“Ah, she manages the renovation of the library,” Miss Minkerton said to Lord Burke. “Is she the lady you spoke of, the improbable match between the lady librarian and the dandy?”