The Perils of Presumption (The Conclave Series Book 1) Page 5

  "Thank you so much for allowing me to stay, Lord Kenward," Charlotte replied demurely, bobbing a courtesy. "Your generosity does you credit."

  "Oh, what a pair of stuffed shirts," Sophie cackled from behind Charlotte. "Come off it, you two."

  Charlotte laughed and approached Hollis for a kiss on the cheek. "It's wonderful to see you, Holly."

  He lifted his brows and a smile creased his eyes. "Do you know, I think I prefer Lord Kenward?"

  "Perhaps a compromise at Hollis, then." Charlotte stepped back once more and Sophie linked their arms together, tugging her close.

  "I am at your service," he replied, the smile spreading from his eyes to his lips now. "Our home is yours, for as long as you like."

  "Come along," Sophie said, and began dragging Charlotte back out the door. "Charlotte is going to freshen up and then we will be in the garden. We shall see you at supper, Holly, for we will be catching up on so many things, very secret, feminine things, and there shall be no menfolk allowed."

  The door began to swing closed again as Hollis executed a low bow and called out. "I would not dream of intruding-" then finished in a low mumble, "-thank God."

  True to her word, Sophie led Charlotte upstairs to a fine room decorated in gracefully painted portraits of cats. Charlotte was only given a few minutes to recover from her journey before Sophie knocked on the door once more and lead her back down, through the house and out the back door. They emerged into a small but beautiful flower garden, blooms bobbing merrily in the warm afternoon breeze.

  A shy maid in a white ruffled cap scurried out clutching a large tray, upon which were the treacle tarts from Charlotte's luggage, as well as a steaming pot of tea. She deposited it all upon the black iron table, and the two ladies took their seats upon the matching iron garden chairs.

  "Good lord." Sophie's eyes fluttered closed and an expression of pure bliss overcame her features as she bit into one of the tarts. "It's even better than I remembered."

  "There's nothing wrong with your memory," Charlotte replied with a smile, sipping her tea. "Agatha works constantly to improve her recipes. I think she could easily be a famous chef, were she born a man."

  "I've always thought it a crime that an extra appendage dangling between one's thighs happens to make such a difference in our opportunities," Sophie mused.

  Charlotte choked over her tea and set down the cup, hiding her laughter with her fingers. "Sophie! We should not be speaking of male... appendages."

  Sophie straightened indignantly. "And why not? You are a doctor of sorts, aren't you? And yet you're not allowed to acknowledge body parts? You're not allowed to take pay for your skills, either, and-"

  Charlotte placed a warning hand against Sophie's wrist, knowing that if she weren’t stopped her friend would rant for hours upon this particular subject. "Please. I'm not deliberately trying to hide my talents while I'm in town, but I'd rather not shout it out on my first day."

  "Of course. Sorry, darling." Sophie sighed and took another unladylike bite of treacle tart. "It's just Holly's mother always going on about how I ought to be more delicate. I think she would've liked me much better were I an invalid."

  "Well, I suppose I could try to sicken you," Charlotte remarked thoughtfully, then laughed at Sophie's look of horror. "No, you are right. Too cruel to confine one so active as you to a sickbed."

  "Indeed, I should hope that's not the only thing stopping you." Sophie tilted her head and leaned in, lowering her voice. "Could you really do that, do you think?"

  Charlotte frowned. "I'm not precisely sure. I've never wanted to try."

  "Well I hope you are not offended if I do not volunteer to be your experimentation subject," Sophie responded with a smile. "Now I have amazing new books to tell you about. I have just finished the most horrifying tale of a ghostly duchess going murderous upon her husband's new wife, and you would absolutely adore it. But first I really must ask - what has truly brought you to town? I think you'll forgive me for saying, I doubt your quest is truly to catch a husband."

  Charlotte smiled and shook her head. It had passed through her mind on the journey that she shouldn't bring Sophie into the true reason she was here, but she dismissed that thought immediately. Sophie was her closest friend and wouldn't even share their secrets with Hollis if Charlotte requested it. Besides, she was too clever and knew Charlotte too well for falsehood. "Indeed not. I would feel quite a fool for going back on my word after so many promises between us to only marry for love."

  "I knew it." Sophie's eyes twinkled with blatant curiosity. "Such intrigue. Tell me, then."

  "It's Avery," Charlotte explained, clasping her teacup between her palms. She dropped her voice to a low murmur, so her words only just reached Sophie's ears. "I have decided to come to town and search for his killer."

  Sophie's eyes popped open wide, the amusement dropping from her expression. "What? Are you mad? And what of the incomparable Lord Winters and his cousin? Do we no longer trust them?"

  Charlotte dropped her gaze and shrugged. "They seem like honourable men. But if the killer is within the Conclave, would they truly turn on one of their own? You know honour and camaraderie can blind men to the truth even when it's right in front of their noses. Aside from which, Ben - Lord Winters, that is - told me a few days ago that they were closing the investigation. There's no hope from that corner, and I just... I cannot rest, knowing that whoever did it still roams free."

  She paused, glancing up to find Sophie's expression wobbling as tears formed in her eyes. "I understand. I mean, I cannot fully understand. But I won't try to stop you. I will say, however, that London is a dangerous place, and the Conclave is full of dangerous men. I don't want you getting in trouble. I can't lose you."

  "I know." Charlotte reached forward to clasp Sophie's hand. "I know. But I must do this. And I need you with me on this. I need to know you are at my side."

  "I am with you," Sophie responded without hesitation. "You know that I am. What is it you need me to do?"

  "Nothing terrible, mainly introductions. We will get to all that soon enough." Charlotte leaned back once more and took a nibble of treacle tart, ignoring Sophie's glare of betrayal. "First of all, I need to run an errand. I have promised to deliver a package to the Earl of Denby's coachman. You remember Teddy Baker?"

  "Oh yes, spindly lad with the red hair?" Sophie stuffed the rest of her tart into her mouth before picking up another one.

  "Yes indeed. Do you mind if we go? Tomorrow, perhaps, after I've settled in?"

  Sophie finished chewing and swallowing her great mouthful - no easy feat - before clearing her throat. "Of course, though I must warn you it's not at all the thing for high born ladies to go visiting other people's servants. We shall have to be circumspect."

  Charlotte smirked and crossed her arms. "Don't fret, I have come prepared."

  Sophie paused before her next bite, and her eyes darted up to Charlotte, bugging with anticipation. "Do you mean...?"

  "Indeed. I brought disguises."

  Chapter Nine

  The Earl’s List

  Ben fixed his gaze on the pot of ink in front of him. There was a drop of black liquid hovering, trembling on the edge of dripping to the wooden surface of the desk below, yet refusing to fall.

  He wished Oliver were here.

  "I'm afraid I can't help you, Winters." The man seated behind the desk leaned back, expansive and relaxed. His neatly trimmed auburn hair was swept stylishly back from his forehead, and a thick moustache curled on his upper lip. He was only thirty, but a few lines wrinkled around the eyes and mouth with his genial smile. "And you know very well why."

  Shifting back in the chair, Ben swept his gaze up to meet the lord's welcoming hazel eyes and forced a matching smile to his lips. "I had assumed the extenuating circumstances might make you reconsider."

  "These are trying times, indeed, but the list is full of innocent names. I'm not releasing it to you."

  "Damnit, Hastings." Ben pressed his
fingers to his temple, rubbing at the headache forming there. "Might I at least give you a few of the names? All seven victims, and now this eighth, all of them minor practitioners with ties to black magic. It's not a coincidence."

  Hastings tilted his head, weighing Ben with his gaze. Ben held still and tried to look as earnest as he felt.

  "Fine," Hastings re-joined with a sigh. "Give me your names. The best I can do is to confirm whether or not they are on my list."

  Ben exhaled a sigh of relief and fished into his pockets for a scrap of parchment. "Burn this once you check all the names. Secrecy is key. I'm trusting you at the moment."

  "So noted," Hastings responded with a lift of his brows. "Just out of curiosity, what would you do if I did give you my list? Go knocking at every door and see what comes crawling out?"

  "One step at a time," Ben said. "First we see if it is related. Then we share plans. I have no wish for bad blood between us, but I do not fear it either. Does that strike you as fair, my lord?"

  Hastings hesitated, then chuckled and thrust out his hand to shake Ben's. "As fair as men of the Conclave can be, I suppose." His next words were cut off by a gentle rapping on the door. "Enter."

  The door eased open, and the aged butler appeared, executing a low bow. "Pardon, my lord. If I could have a moment of your time."

  "Yes, yes, approach."

  Ben watched the butler shuffle across the carpet and exchange a few muttered words with Hastings. He couldn't pick up on it from here, but he tried. It must be something unusual, for a servant to interrupt a meeting.

  Finally, the butler executed another low bow and shuffled back out through the door. Hastings looked up, his eyes dancing in amusement. "This is highly unusual, but how do you feel about a spot of fun, Winters?"

  Ben eyed him warily. "What sort of fun?"

  "Some ruckus outside." Hastings pushed to his feet and smoothed down his velvet green jacket, then plucked up his top hat and perched it carefully on his head. "Bernard assures me it is best seen to personally. Come along."

  Ben was not in the habit of coming along when being told to 'come along.' However, he was curious, and didn't want to remain seated in an empty office like an idiot, so he collected his things and strode after Hastings, just catching the door before it swung shut. The two men stepped out, Hastings walking with a lazy almost-swagger, managing to keep ahead of Ben despite his shorter stature. They exited the back of the elegant mansion, stepped through the small well-kept garden, beyond the gate to the muddy area of stamped-down earth between the garden and the stable.

  There were three figures standing there, two females and a male. The male was young, more boy than man, with a wild bush of bright red hair and a friendly grin on his face. The women were dressed in drab grey, heavy shawls wrapped around their shoulders, and bonnets obscuring their faces. It didn't matter. Ben would recognize the tilt of her head, the shape of her waist, the stubborn thrust of her chin anywhere. He felt his heart stutter in his chest, a foolish beat of joy at the sight of her before anger burned up in his gullet.

  "Well, well, Lady Kenward. You can imagine my astonishment when my butler informed me that you were here, wearing strange clothes, doing God knows what." Hastings came to a stop before the ladies.

  The brown-haired woman whipped around and a guilty flush spread across her cheeks. "Oh dear. How on earth were we recognized?"

  "My butler has a keen eye for quality, my lady." Hastings executed an exaggerated bow, eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I'm not familiar with your companion."

  Ben cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I am. My lady, if you would just give me a moment of your time?"

  The brim of Charlotte's bonnet tilted back and her green eyes stared up at him, guilt and defiance warring within her gaze. "What is it, sir?"

  He leaned in close, trying to drop his voice so that only she could hear. "What are you playing at?"

  "I do beg your pardon?" For a moment, the confusion on her face looked genuine.

  "You're here, dressed as a servant, at the house of a Conclave member, pumping that poor boy for information, and you're begging my pardon?"

  Her eyes went wide. "Lord Hastings is part of the Conclave? I didn't-"

  "Are you mad? This is how you conduct your investigation? You're going to be locked up at this rate, or worse. Trespassing on the earl's property, and-"

  "Enough." Charlotte's voice emerged hard, clear, and she stepped back from him.

  Ben glanced up and saw Lady Kenward, Hastings, and the red-headed boy all staring at him as if he'd lost his mind.

  Blast it. Perhaps he had.

  "I am here visiting Teddy," Charlotte continued with quiet composure. "I didn't wish to draw attention, as we are in town and must conform to the customs, so I tried to be circumspect. However, I can see I was unsuccessful. I do apologize for intruding, Lord Hastings."

  Hastings darted his gaze rapidly between Ben and Charlotte, and at these last words, a broad grin spread over his features. "No need for apologies on my account, my lady...?"

  "Oh! Allow me to present Lady Charlotte Whitcomb," Lady Kenward stepped forward at this point, her eyes bright with suppressed laughter. "Lottie, this is Lord William Hastings, Earl of Denby."

  "It is a small world, Lady Kenward," Hastings responded with an elegant bow. "And a pleasure to meet your friend. I only wish you had popped by to ask me first; I'd have had Mr. Baker come meet you in the drawing room and avoid all this nonsense."

  Ben blinked at the swift turn of events and cleared his throat. "Er, excuse me. You know this boy?"

  Teddy stepped in and gave an untrained half-bow. "Yessir, so sorry milord. I'll just be going." Then the boy began to back away slowly, before turning, and running back to the stable.

  Charlotte's eyebrow winged up in disapproval. "You've scared the wits out of him, Lord Winters."

  "It's all right, I'm not altogether sure there were that many to scare away," Hastings interjected with a wink.

  Charlotte's rosy mouth worked to suppress a smile, though she shook her head. "My lord, please."

  "You're right, I'm making nearly as much an arse of myself as Lord Winters was a moment ago." Hastings stepped forward and bowed over her hand, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "You must be new to London? Even in these rags I would remember such radiant beauty, had we previously met."

  Ben glowered at Hastings, but bit back his retort. He had meant to be kind to Charlotte the next time he saw her, apologize for his earlier rudeness, and make amends. Instead he had been...

  Well, an idiot.

  Damn it all.

  Charlotte was answering in her soft, pleasant tones. She hardly ever used that voice with Ben. "Yes, I've only just arrived yesterday. And you are far too kind, my lord."

  "And will the brilliant Lady Kenward be keeping you to herself, or will your fine figure be gracing the ton for some time to come?" Hastings asked, locking his hands behind his back.

  "Indeed," Lady Kenward interjected. "We will be attending the Duchess of Leighton's ball in three days' time."

  "Well, I shall just have to see if I can locate my invitation. Perhaps you will be so bold as to allow me to claim a dance with you in anticipation of the event?" Hastings had his charm out in full force, now, damn the dandified bastard.

  "It would be my pleasure," Charlotte responded, a smile overtaking her features. When she smiled like that, with such real feeling, it was like her happiness spilled out all around her, and Ben fought back another surge of irritation.

  "Good lord. I don't think I've seen a face quite so thunderous since my horse stepped on my coachman's gouty foot. I do think Lord Winters might be ill," Hastings continued with a laugh, slapping Ben between his shoulder blades. "We should get on with our business. Ladies, do feel free to continue speaking with Mr. Baker if you like, but I insist you allow me to escort you home."

  "It's not necessary, indeed, that will draw much more attention," Charlotte protested, but Hastings waved away her words. />
  "Nonsense. Just give me a moment to show Lord Winters to the door."

  Ben twisted around, shooting Charlotte a glance that hopefully conveyed remorse and 'we shall talk later,' but the nuance was lost as she deliberately turned away from him and looped her arm through Lady Kenward's.

  "Thanks for stopping by, Winters. I'll have an answer for you next time I see you." Hastings' voice was too loud and jolly by far, in Ben's opinion, but he still turned to follow him back through the house towards the front door.

  "I will call again soon, then."

  Hastings turned to him with a keen look. "Listen here, old fellow. Don't know what's got a wasp in your knickers, but I'm hoping it's gone by the next time we meet. Just tell me this. That Whitcomb chit. She's Avery's sister, eh?"

  Ben hesitated before giving a slight nod to confirm.

  Hastings' brow furrowed. "And she's fresh to court. Flouting convention. We ought to spread word to the ones we trust to keep an eye on her. Don't want her getting in any trouble."

  Surprise had Ben silent a little too long. He hadn't anticipated protectiveness from other Conclave members, but it made sense. He hadn't been Avery's only friend. "I'm doing what I can, but I would appreciate the assistance, Hastings. My thanks."

  The earl nodded and clapped Ben's shoulder once more. "Au revoir, my thunder-faced colleague."

  As Ben stepped back outside and began walking towards his horse, his mind flicked over his schedule for the next few days. He had time. Perhaps he could arrange to meet up with Hastings at that ball of the duchess of whosit whatsit.

  Just to speak with Hastings again, of course, about the list.

  No other reason.

  Not because he couldn't stop thinking about a certain pair of smiling green eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  The Lord Pays a Visit

  "Lord Hastings is rather charming, don't you think?"