Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (19 page)

A chill of unease raced down Laurel’s spine. Edmond actions were totally unacceptable flirting with the daughter of the house, the very young daughter at that. She couldn’t bring herself to believe Rhonda was actually jealous of Paige, but her clear interest in such a trinket was disquieting and presented all the more reason to identify the thief as soon as possible.

Rising, Laurel plucked Jamie from his play. “Let’s make our way inside. And don’t worry about Rhonda. I understand she’s off to visit friends for a few days.”

Paige grinned up at her. “Thanks for listening.”

“Certainly,” Laurel commented absently. Her mind had been miles away, at Landings in fact, not only thinking of Adron, but of Oather Dimty as well. Hopefully, tomorrow she would know more about Oather Dimty and her heart beat a little faster.

Chapter 18

Laurel eyed the exterior of Landings with trepidation as she descended from the coach. The memories associated with the place were not pleasant but she lifted her chin and marched up the steps. Since she’d left Landings some while after Robert’s death, there had been no opportunity for her to return and memories of him floated through her mind like gossamer ghosts. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how far into the past she’d relegated him or that her heart had foolishly moved forward toward Adron. At least this time, she wouldn’t be required to face Rhonda’s complaints or criticisms.

The gaunt-faced butler, Grimes opened the door and Laurel stepped inside the house. She removed her cloak and gloves, handing both to him.

“Is Lord Gladrey about?”

“No, Milady. He left early this morning.”

Her heart sank. She’d counted on his protection if indeed she discovered the identity of the thief. Adron’s self-confidence and air of authority inspired a feeling of security in her but now apprehension mixed with her dismay. In the back of her mind, she’d cherished the thought of spending time with him as well. She brushed aside her earlier anticipation and patted her reticule, comforted by the hard outline of her pistol.

“Do you know if he plans to return?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t say. Perhaps Mr. Dimty would know.”

“Speaking of Mr. Dimty, do you know if his uncle is about?”

He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Very well.” As she headed toward the parlor, Percy stepped into the hall ahead of her and she hurried to catch up with him. Although the culprit was an older man, if Percy and his uncle were as similar as reported, perhaps she could draw a comparison between the two.

“Mr. Dimty, a word,” she called.

He turned and waited for her to catch up. “Milady. Welcome home.”

Welcome home indeed.
She barely kept from snorting at him. His duties as steward included management of the lands, but with Rhonda’s help, he had manipulated Robert into allowing him access to all of the accounts as well, more power, more blame. He’d been in league with Rhonda from the first always ready to deny Laurel the rights and privileges that should have been hers. Viewing his every move with resentment, she wondered if she had been totally fair to him.

Laurel pushed that aside and scrutinized his countenance, especially his eyes. Behind his glasses, his eyes didn’t have the same insane expression as the thief’s, but the distinctive coloring and shape were the same. The urge to beat a hasty retreat almost overwhelmed her, but reason prevailed and her breathing calmed. Even if his uncle turned out to be the culprit, didn’t necessarily mean Percy had been in league with him.

“How may I serve you?” Percy questioned with his usual condescending air. Not enough to be called to account but enough to let her know he acquiesced merely for form’s sake.

Laurel straightened her shoulders. “I will be sending wall paper, paint and new furniture for the drawing room soon.” She swung around and gestured with her hand. “I abhor that brilliant yellow color. Perhaps a muted gold or cream will be more pleasing to the eye.”

His head went up and he seemed to peer down his nose at her. “Lady Rhonda hasn’t approved the changes.”

Laurel lifted her chin to counter his disdain. “Lady Rhonda is not the mistress here.” She didn’t care if her voice sounded snappish. “I am. Grimes has his orders and I won’t tolerate any interference. That’s the only reason I’m telling you about my decision.” Lifting her brows, she waited. “Is that all?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“Then you may be dismissed.”

He stared at her for a moment as if undecided before he finally bowed his head in a mocking salute. “As you say.”

Laurel watched him until he disappeared out the back of the house before exhaling a pent up breath. She grinned. That hadn’t been as hard as she’d imagined and she almost rubbed her hands together in glee. Now that Percy was out of the way, she could locate the hidden safe in the library, but first she must shed her traveling apparel for an old gown less likely to soil. Robert’s letters from the war were stashed in her trunk somewhere in the dusty attics. Although she’d read and reread every word, his writings might contain a hint she’d overlooked before.

Somewhat pensively she climbed the stairs allowing memories to roll through her mind. How young and gullible she’d been as a new bride, brought into this house full of hope, only to find her home already under the rule of another woman. There had been no reasoning with Robert where Rhonda was concerned and Laurel hadn’t known how to protect herself from her sister-in-law. Thankfully those days were over. Nonetheless, she breathed a sigh of relief knowing Rhonda wasn’t here to stop her quest.

A short while later as she entered the library, excitement had her nerves at fevered pitch. Laurel gazed around picturing Robert behind his desk but the image faded quickly. Unpleasant memories overlaid the cherished memories of first love. For a brief second, she wished things could have been different but she had no time to linger over what might have been. She shook loose from those imagining, searching her memory for the location of the safe. Robert had insisted she say the numbers to the combination several times, as if she could ever forget his birthday.

Laurel glanced at the shelves lining three walls all loaded with a staggering number of leather bound tomes and wished he’d made her recite the exact location of the safe instead. At least the remaining dark paneled wall contained a huge window where light filtered into the room. A quill and ink pot graced the top of the wide desk stationed in front of the opening. A couple of brown, leather chairs with a table between stood in front of a row of shelves. She decided to start there. Kneeling down, she reached all the way to the back of first shelf then another until she had almost completed the circuit. Her first elation began to fade. So far she’d been unable to locate the safe.

An eerie sensation of being watched had her head snapping around and she nearly jumped a foot at the sight of the faded looking little old lady standing behind her. How had the woman managed to enter and cross the room without making a sound?

“Oh dear, I never meant to startle you but the library is off limits to all but the family. I’m Essie Calhermin, Lady Rhonda’s cousin so I’m allowed. I came as chaperon to Lady Rhonda when her sister-in-law decided to desert her.” She shrugged and peered at Laurel for a long moment. “You’re a pretty little thing. Lady Rhonda won’t care for that. Still, she isn’t here.”

Laurel grimaced. She got off her knees and straightened her skirt. “I’m Lady Laurel Laningham.”

Essie gasped, “Oh dear. You’re my sweet Robbie’s wife. I should have known except Rhonda told me you had unremarkable, pale hair and eyes. Indeed, she led me astray.”

Laurel smiled at Essie. “Am I to understand you were related to my husband?”

“Indeed.”

“How delightful to meet you then.”

“And you,” Essie gushed. “You’re a sweet thing and so pretty. Did I mention that? Robert’s wife,” she sighed and continued to stare.

“If you would care to join me, I’ll order tea to be served.”

“Delighted to, my child. I knew my precious Robbie would have married a sweet girl. He was so sweet himself, so kind. I was here quite a lot when they were little.”

Laurel pulled the bell cord and waited for a maid to appear. “See that tea is prepared and served in the main drawing room.” She led the way and sank into a chair.

The tea tray arrived and Laurel sighed with relief, glad of the interruption from the endless chatter Essie spouted. Laurel busied herself pouring tea and passed a cup to Essie before settling back into her chair. “Are you comfortable at Landings?”

“Yes indeed. Lord Gladrey was here earlier, always so thoughtful and he saw to everything. He only left this morning. I say he’s a fine gentleman, so handsome and absolutely charming.”

Laurel’s lips curled in a strained smile. Charming wasn’t exactly the way she’d describe him. Overwhelming was a more accurate description of not only his looks but of his personality.

“Rhonda is sweet on him, you know,” Essie piped up.

Somewhat taken aback, Laurel wasn’t sure what to say, but she needn’t have bothered.

Essie continued to rattle on. “I don’t hold with this cousin marrying nonsense though, so it’s just as well.”

Laurel didn’t care to hear any more about Rhonda’s fixation on Adron and standing, she placed her cup on the tray. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you but if you’ll excuse me, I only arrived a short while ago. I’ve been away so long I really have dozens of things calling for my attention.” Laurel smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner,” she said and whisked out of the room.

She thought to try the library again only this time she would lock the door before she began her search. Stepping into the hallway, she spied Percy again and frowned as a surge of annoyance washed over her.

“May I help you with something, Milady?”

Laurel wanted to make a nasty comment, but she didn’t. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

The tips of his ears turned red and his eyes narrowed to slits. A sensation of unease tingled down her spine and the feeling came from more than his usual attitude of dislike. In that threatening stance, he reminded her of the thief. Putting up a brave front, she lifted her chin. “Do you require something more, Mr. Dimty?”

He hesitated, his stare level and intent. “No, Milady.”

“Then you may be about your business,” she said in a firm voice, and gave him stare for stare before he wheeled and continued down the hall.

Laurel made her way into the library and with a sigh of relief turned the key. Free from prying eyes and extremely soft-footed old ladies, she could continue to search for the safe. She’d tried the bottom shelves earlier so she would try the middle ones next. About half way down the row, a section of books seemed melded together and at one go she pulled out three volumes, comprising the entire collection of poems bound in red leather. The safe had been hidden behind the books. Drawing a deep breath, she tried the combination.

Laurel didn’t know what she expected to find, but the safe was relatively empty. Only a journal and a few hundred pounds in cash were inside. She flipped the book open, glancing at several pages. Robert’s childish writings became firm and better formed as he matured. Why had the journal been locked in his safe? She left the cash for now, but removed the book, settled in one of the chairs and began to read.

Laurel thumbed through the first pages of the book filled with childish adventures and dreams for the future. His dog had died and he had been distraught for several pages. She could almost feel his pain through his writing and finally paused at a passage she found particularly interesting:

Today the Dimty family came for a visit. His father and mine attended school together and became fast friends. Now I attend school with his son, Percy but he is a year older than me so he is in a more advanced line of study. He has a way of making me feel inferior whether on purpose or not is anyone’s guess. Thankfully his family didn’t bring his cousin with them this time, the sneaky, two-faced little rodent. Although it would earn me a thrashing, I’d like to knock his block off. If only he’d give me a good excuse, I would. Both he and his cousin are always snippy with Rhonda and she doesn’t like that one little bit. My tutor excuses their behavior and says boys will be boys.

Laurel sighed wondering why Robert had stowed the book of his childish ramblings in the safe, but she continued to read. Obviously, he had been older when he’d written the next several pages. This recounting of his life put her to the blush. If all young men learned about bits of muslin and high flyers in such a manner, no wonder men had little respect for women in general. She sat up straighter as she read the next page.

Something has happened to Rhonda. I don’t know what and she won’t tell me anything. She cries a lot. I don’t like it. She’s my sister and I’ll always take care of her. She knows that. She can depend on Adron as well.

Slightly irritated at the mention of her dear sister-in-law’s name, Laurel snapped the book shut deciding to retrieve Robert’s letters from the attic while the day still offered some light. Laurel could read both the journal and his letters in the privacy of her own chamber at a more opportune moment. She gathered the volume beneath her arm and headed up the stairs to her chamber.

Cramming the journal in her wardrobe beneath the loose bottom, she washed her face and hands before heading up to the attic. She only hoped Robert’s writings would prove more valuable than the information contained in his journal thus far. As she approached the threshold of the attic, she hesitated. Perhaps she should read the journal entirely before venturing further. Still she was here and dressed for the part.

Shoving the door inward, the screeching sound of the little used hinges scraped on her nerves as the musty smell of disuse hit her. Laurel held her candle aloft and glanced inside at the pieces of furniture draped in ghostly covers. She brushed several cobwebs aside before stepping into the attic where abandoned household items added eerie shapes to the gloom. At the far end of the room, the sun cast dim rays through a dirty windowpane and she greeted the fleeting light with thanks. Although evening threatened to steal the last of the sunrays, the notion that nothing dangerous would happen during the daylight hours comforted her. After all, nightmares only happened during the night.

Inhaling a deep breath to calm her nerves, she searched the attic and finally spied her trunk underneath a portrait of a long deceased Laningham. As she lifted the painting away, she noticed a small crack in the wall. Rubbing her hand down the seam in the wood, she bit back a scream as a small door swung open. Lifting her candle to peer inside, she exhaled a pent up breath. Nothing more dangerous than dust and cobwebs greeted her intrusion into the priest’s hole, but upon further inspection, she noticed a lone box on a shelf, enough to lure her inside. She picked up the box, wondering at the small amount of accumulated dust on the surface and opened the lid. Much to her surprise, several pieces of jewelry glittered in the flare of the candle.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her pulse quickened as her courage deserted her. What did this mean? Were these the actual jewels that had been duplicated or were these stones paste as well? A sense of danger quickened her breathing and she realized how foolish she had been to leave her pistol downstairs in her reticule. She snapped the case shut, peering around before stepping back.