The Sinner (9 page)

“I am very sure that he never thinks about it anymore.”

“I wonder.” He headed to the door. “I will bid you good night. I will see about the carriages in the next few days for you.”

“Thank you.”

At the threshold he paused and looked back at her. Again his bright gaze took her in thoroughly, resting a moment on the pink robe. “I think that there are some other changes that I want you to make, Fleur.”

More instructions. To her mind, this had not been part of the agreement.

He gestured to her cap and robe. “Do you always dress like my childhood nurse when you retire?”

“My garments are practical, and no one sees me but my maid.”

“I may see you now. When we have a late conversation again, for example. When you order the new wardrobe, have some prettier things made.”

“I doubt that we will have more late conversations.”

“I expect that we will. I am rarely in the mood to sleep as soon as I return at night, and it appears that you keep late hours too.”

If he expected her to entertain him when he came home from his rutting, he had better think again. “I cannot countenance such a frivolous expense.”

He walked over to her. With warm, rough fingers under her chin, he angled her face up toward his. She looked into eyes distressingly similar in their penetrating warmth to the ones she had just seen in her memory. Her skipping heart took a huge, trembling leap.

“You can accommodate the expense, and you will do so because I require it of you. It displeases me to see you shrouded like a poor, old woman. I am your husband, Fleur, and your beauty is mine to enjoy, even if the rest of you is not.”

His hand fell away and he walked back to the door.

Her reaction to his touch dismayed her, but a prickly irritation rose too. What did he care if she dressed for bed like an old nurse? His lovers would surely display enough feminine beauty to satisfy him.

“Is there anything else? Any more changes?” She threw the questions at his back and heard them crackle with resentment.

“One other. I want you to lock the door between our chambers. A saint should know better than to taunt the devil.”

chapter
8

G
regory Farthingstone avoided looking at the man soiling the library chair. It wasn’t the man’s clothing that besmirched the upholstery. The garments were actually of astonishingly good quality, and the man well turned out. Only his hard expression hinted at his character. For all the fine clothes, there was no mistaking the sort of man this was.

Well, what did he expect? He’d gone looking for a criminal, and now he was facing one in his own home. A very successful criminal, from the looks of things.

The ease with which he had found this man was shocking. A vague query to a pawnbroker who traded in some of society’s jewels had led to a moneylender who bled some of society’s sons. A request for references there had resulted in this dark-haired man who called himself Smith arriving card in hand as if he were a friend. The note scrawled on the back of the card, the secret word Farthingstone had said should be used, assured that he was received.

“You make an odd offer, Mr. Farthingstone, and not what I expected,” the man said. “What you require is not my usual occupation, so to speak. There’s them that do this all the time for men of your cut. Why not go buy a runner?”

Farthingstone forced his attention on his guest. It was the eyes he did not like. Slit and sly, they displayed a boldness that was disconcerting, as if they saw something familiar in the man they examined.

“I do not require a runner. I merely want her followed and her actions reported to me. Any unusual actions, that is.”

“Well, now, what do you mean by unusual? There’s some things that are more usual than some men want to believe, when it comes to women.” A smirking smile accompanied the observation.

“I am not seeking evidence of—It goes without saying that you will not discover that she has a lover. I speak of odd behavior. Eccentric activities. If her carelessness endangers her, for example. If she appears to wander the streets aimlessly. I don’t know what you may discover, damn it. If I did, I would not need you to do this.”

“No need to get angry. Like I said, it is an odd thing you ask, so you can’t mind me wanting to understand just what you expect.”

The hell of it was, he did not know himself what he expected. He only knew that he needed as much evidence of Fleur’s peculiar habits as he could get. He had to go into Chancery well armed. All the stories he had let slip about her erratic behavior might not be enough.

Despite his reassurances to Siddel, things were not looking good. He needed fresh evidence for his case. At the minimum, he needed to get the court to prevent her from disposing of property while the matter was examined. Otherwise, she might convince Duclairc to allow her to go through with her intention to sell her aunt’s property in Durham and build that damn school.

The very notion had sweat dampening his brow.

“You are not to let her see you or guess that she is being followed,” he said very sharply. “Nor are you to in any way interfere with her.”

“I’m never seen if I don’t want to be.”

“There is something else. She has a husband. They are not together much, but if she is with him, make yourself scarce. He is the worst scoundrel and may be more alert to being watched than she would be.”

“What does he look like?”

“He has brown hair, dresses fashionably, and has a face that causes women to make idiotic fools of themselves.”

“You speak of him with some emotion. You dislike the man?”

“I hate the man. He is the source of all the trouble. If not for him I would not need your services. If not for him, I would not be—” He caught himself, remembering that he spoke to a stranger, and one without honor at that.

Those sly eyes narrowed. “If he is such a trial to you, why not remove him?”

Farthingstone stared aghast at his visitor. To have such a thing so blandly said in one’s library . . . But the shock did not come only from astonishment. It also derived from an instant of horrible epiphany as, in a split second, he saw how removing Duclairc would indeed neatly solve the entire problem.

“You are never again to imply that I require such a thing. When I had the word passed that I needed a man, I spoke of someone who could move about quietly and invisibly. I do not seek . . . what you suggested.”

The man shrugged. He held out his hand. “I’ll be taking the first payment now. My reports will go to that printing establishment, as you want, and you can leave notes for me there too. There’s not much cause for a lady to do odd things, is the way I see it. Won’t be hard to notice if this one steps out of line. I’ll let you know if she does.”

Farthingstone ignored the open hand and placed the pounds on a table. He strode to the door, to be away from the whole distasteful situation.

“If you change your mind on how to solve your problem, you just let me know,” the man said to his back. “Same money for you and less lurking around for me too. A sure thing as well, and your problem is done with quickly.”

Fleur perused a letter that had arrived for her in the prior day’s post. It had come in response to a letter of her own, the one she had started two nights ago while she waited up for Dante.

She needed to find a way to accommodate the plans she had arranged through this correspondence. She had been back in London over a week and it was time to take care of a few matters. This was definitely one of them.

Her dressing completed, she went down to the breakfast room. Softly lit through northern windows, it was one of her favorite spaces in the house. The new day always appeared fresh and welcoming through those windows, and the proportions of the room formed a perfect cube that instilled a harmonious mood.

Dante was finishing his meal as she entered. She saw he was dressed for riding.

“I am going out to Hampstead,” he explained. “I will also begin looking for the carriages and horses as you requested. Do you have any preferences? Some women are very particular about the colors of both coaches and cattle.”

“Since your sister will be taking me to order a new wardrobe, I think I will have enough colors to worry me for a long while. Choose as you prefer, Dante.”

“Is that how you will be spending the day? At the shops with Charlotte?”

She wished he had not asked, and mentally slapped herself for inviting the question. “We begin tomorrow. Today I must plan a meeting that I will be holding next week regarding the new school.” It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“We are to be invaded by the Friends? I should probably make myself scarce that day too.”

Yes, that would be convenient
. Instead of saying that, she laughed lightly, as if he had made a humorous allusion to his sin offending their goodness. Maybe he had.

That was not why she would prefer he not be here, however. She was not at all ashamed of him. She simply did not want anything to provoke questions from him about the school. She had already skirted too close to such curiosity in Durham.

She watched him walk away, with other memories of Durham floating around her, making her sad.

She thought about the letter upstairs. She was glad it had come. Picking up the threads of her life would stop this sighing over what she could not have. Besides, it was past time to do what she had returned from France to see through.

“Are you going out, madame?”

Fleur pursed her lips at her butler’s query. Of course she was going out. She was wearing a hooded cloak, wasn’t she? “For an hour or so. No more.”

“May I send a man to hire a coach?”

“No, I will walk.”

“Very good, madame. I will send for your abigail.”

“If I wanted my maid with me, I would have told her already. I will not need any escort or carriage, Williams.”

“Of course, madame. It is just that Mr. Duclairc saw you returning alone from your walk several days ago, and expressed a preference that you not lack an escort in the future.”

Oh, he had, had he?

Williams appeared resolute. The servants did not know the details of the marriage and would assume that Dante was now master of the house. And of her.

“If Mr. Duclairc learns of my disobedience, he may express his displeasure to me. However, I do not see any reason for him to become aware of it, do you, Williams? On this matter, I think that we can continue as we have for the five years you have been with me, don’t you?”

Williams had no answer for that. Contented that she had thwarted the butler’s inclination to switch loyalties in a heartbeat, she left the house.

A half hour later she entered the church of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. A few petitioners dotted the nave, lost in their prayers and oblivious to the world. She pulled the hood forward a bit on her head so it obscured her face and walked to a pew along the shadowed northern side.

A man sat there.

He rose and made room for her to sit beside him, next to the aisle. “It has been a long time since I have seen you,” he said. “I trust your visit to France was pleasant.”

She noticed the discoloration and swelling on the cheek below his left eye. She hoped that his resentment over that blow would not affect his dealings with her.

“My visit was very enjoyable. However, it has not been so long since you saw me, and we both know it.” She had decided it would be futile to pretend Hugh Siddel had not seen her in that cottage bed. “I trust you comprehended that the last time you saw me, I was indisposed.”

“Of course you were. There was no other explanation to my mind or anyone else’s.”

“If everyone had been as chivalrous in their discretion as in their interpretations, my reputation would have been well served. Unfortunately, someone spoke of it, because my presence there became known to my stepfather.”

“Ten men rode up to that cottage. It is possible that Jameson confided what we saw to one of the others. It was an unfortunate business all around, and I am sorry you were embarrassed by it.”

“Since it all turned out well in the end, I cannot say it was all that unfortunate.”

She thought she saw annoyance flex over his face at this allusion to her marriage. It reminded her of that tense conversation with Dante when he claimed Siddel had once been in love with her.

Her mind stretched back to her first season. She remembered dancing with Hugh Siddel a number of times and a few conversations when he came to call. Ladies warned her mother that he drank too much, but there had never been evidence of it. Nor had she noticed any indication that he was in love.

She examined his eyes for any signs that he was a resentful, spurned admirer. None was evident. He was always polite and congenial when they met.

“I offer my heartfelt felicitations on your marriage,” he said. “Although I must confide that some of the partners have expressed apprehension. Your marriage was not expected at all, and a husband’s involvement was not part of the plan.”

“My husband will not be involved.”

“You cannot sell now without his approval.”

“We have an understanding on the matter. Reassure the investors that the property remains under my total control. My husband will not interfere. Nor can my stepfather, now that I am married. No doubt you have heard his outrageous claims about me. I am told it is all over town.”

“I was able to bear witness regarding Farthingstone’s accusations myself, and the investors are satisfied on that count. After all, no one is in a better position to testify to your good judgment than I am.”

“Now you can explain that there will be no interference from Mr. Duclairc either. We are going forward. However, I must now express my own concerns. When we first met and I agreed to have you find the purchasers for my land, you told me it could be settled in a few months. That was half a year ago. I expected to receive word in France that it was all in place. Instead, my letters to you went unanswered.”

“I assure you I answered your letters and provided full details of my progress. Perhaps they missed you as you traveled?”

“Perhaps. Did you agree to this meeting so you could tell me it is finished, then?”

“Not quite. I comprehend your impatience, but the need for secrecy means that approaching investors takes time and discretion. I am confident, however, that—”

“Mr. Siddel, where are we exactly? How close are we to our goal?”

“I require two more partners. There are several likely candidates, and I am deliberating the best way to solicit them.”

It was as she suspected. He was not applying himself to this with proper determination. He no doubt had many such affairs to tend to, and he had let this one languish.

“I would like the names of the investors you have already found, Mr. Siddel.”

“My dear lady, I have promised them all anonymity until the entire matter is arranged. They do not even know one another’s names. Only I do.”

“Since my role is integral, I think I should know as well.”

“I must refuse. Even one word in the wrong ear would have serious consequences. Which returns us to the reason some of the investors are concerned about your marriage.”

His lowered lids and serious tone caught her off guard. “I do not understand.”