Married by Moonlight Page 6

  They were silent a long time and Gilbert shivered. Carmichael’s wild theory might not be so implausible after all. Miss Goldwell tonight, Miss Berry last week, and the two other deceased women known to Carmichael—found almost at the same time of night. On a Friday before midnight. The chances of such a coincidence must be astronomical.

  “The papers will dub the fiend the Friday Killer,” Carmichael warned as he closed his eyes tightly. “I used to like that night of the week best of all.”

  He grasped Carmichael by the shoulder. If the killer acted only on a Friday, then they had another week to catch them before the story made the papers and the ton erupted in panic.

  Chapter 6

  No matter the weather, Anna could always count on Lady Scott being at home when she called in the morning.

  Anna and her maid entered Lady Scott’s modest dwelling in Mayfair at precisely ten o’clock on a dreary Wednesday morning, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she’d reached her destination without bursting into fresh tears.

  After what she had seen at last Friday’s ball, fear was never far away, too. The passage of days had not altered her memory about how Miss Goldwell had been murdered. The violence of her demise haunted her. The worst of it was, she had no one to comfort her about it. No one but Lord Sorenson and Lord Carmichael, and she did not want to seek out either of them. She couldn’t admit to them that she was afraid.

  Her maid, Jane, was aware she was out of sorts about something, but left her alone to find her own peace. Jane was good that way. She didn’t pry or prattle to Anna’s father, either.

  Lady Scott’s home was blessedly quiet after the chaos of Anna’s newest nightmare last night. She had not been able to forget what she’d witnessed in Lord Williamson’s library, and her dreams had twisted the encounter horribly so she’d barely been able to close her eyes at night.

  The butler announced them and Anna bade her maid wait behind in the hall. She entered Lady Scott’s private sanctum and all her fears of lurking danger vanished into thin air at the countess’ welcoming smile. Nothing bad could ever happen around Lady Scott. The countess would never allow a single rule to be broken in her presence.

  Her mentor was waiting for her, a serene smile on her face. Dressed in black day and night—she’d been widowed years ago—she always appeared elegant and regal. Anna could only hope to be half as well turned out later in her life. “Lady Scott.”

  “Miss Beasley. How good of you to call on me this morning.”

  Anna curtsied and seated herself when directed to a chair. She folded her hands neatly into her lap, tucking her feet close together beneath her. She straightened her spine and refused to slouch even a little despite being with a close friend. “It is good to see you again.”

  “And you. You are up very early today and appear uneasy. I trust nothing is wrong at home.”

  Lady Scott was always perceptive. “No. Nothing is wrong at home,” she assured Lady Scott, gulping back a sudden desire to blurt out everything she shouldn’t say. She’d given her word and could not break it.

  Lady Scott’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “I saw you with Lord Sorenson Friday night.”

  “Yes, we waltzed. A single dance only.”

  Lady Scott studied her carefully. “I trust his company was pleasant. My godson speaks highly of him, but a lady can learn so much more of a man’s true nature by the way he dances.”

  “Yes, indeed I agree with you on that subject.” Lord Sorenson had had other women on his mind but she couldn’t really complain of that to Lady Scott. “He danced the waltz very well.”

  Lady Scott sat back and smiled. “Good. I’ve heard nothing but praise for how Lord Sorenson conducts himself in society from those who should know. A far cry from his father’s scandalous reputation of years ago. What does your father say of the young earl?”

  “My father hasn’t mentioned the earl again since the night they first met at Almack’s Assembly,” Anna told her honestly. Father had shown little interest in discussing the few gentlemen Anna might have an interest in, as evidenced by his constant mention of Carmichael.

  Lady Scott tapped on the armrest of her chair with one elegant finger. “I could not help but notice you and my godson were absent from the supper room Friday night.”

  “I cannot speak for Lord Carmichael’s whereabouts that night, of course,” Anna assured her, but she had her explanation ready and rehearsed in case of questions. “But I felt a little unwell for a time after the waltz, all that spinning about I suppose, and when supper was announced I escaped to the retiring room until the sensation passed.”

  Lady Scott frowned. “I trust you recovered swiftly.”

  “Oh, yes indeed. Fit as a fiddle now, in fact,” Anna promised.

  But she had cast up her accounts Friday night as soon as she’d reached the relative privacy of her bedchamber, and any food she saw even now made her queasy. “Father is well, too.”

  “I am very glad to hear it.”

  Lady Scott’s servant interrupted them, bringing tea and a plate of little cakes. Anna knew better than to accept one.

  Lady Scott passed over her tea, black and unsweetened. “What brings you out so early today, my dear?”

  Anna bit her lip and then straightened her spine. It was time to stop being so timid about gentlemen. Life could be short and so unfairly taken away. “I wanted to ask you for advice about a gentleman of my acquaintance.”

  “Which one?”

  “Lord Wade?”

  Lady Scott shook her head swiftly. “No. He is not for you.”

  Undeterred, Anna continued. “He’s been very attentive these past weeks. Father has noticed how often we dance, which makes me believe I should consider him, and at least learn more about him. I wanted to seek your opinion, too. He is a viscount and his family is well connected.”

  “And so you should apply to my judgment of any suitor.” Lady Scott seemed to consider the matter for a few moments. “I am well acquainted with Lord Wade and his aunt, and am quite sure a marriage into the Wade family would not suit your family.”

  “But he’s accepted at Almack’s,” Anna reminded her. “His aunt was perhaps a little intimidating when we first met, but she does speak to me now without first inspecting me with her lorgnette. You also said the man I consider to marry must be one who could gain admittance to the assembly rooms.”

  “I do agree that is essential,” Lady Scott replied. “I had expected you to have set your cap a little higher than a mere viscount, my dear.”

  She knew that. Unfortunately, the earl she’d admired last season had surprised everyone by announcing he was married quite suddenly. Other than Lord Louth, she’d seen few gentlemen who appealed to her as much. Perhaps it was time to forget the importance of titles altogether or a gentleman’s physical appeal. She did not wish to live out her days as an old maid.

  Anna smiled. “All I want is to marry someone who will be kind to me. Gaining a title is not as important to me as it is to other women of my acquaintance.”

  “That I will never accept.” Lady Scott was about to continue when the butler tapped on the door again. “Forgive the intrusion, my lady, but Lord Carmichael wonders if you might have a moment to spare him?”

  “Carmichael?” Anna’s discomfort returned.

  Lady Scott glanced her way with a delighted smile. “He must have known. How pleasant to have my two favorite young people call on me at the very same time. Do send him in to us.”

  Anna basked in her praise, ignoring her mention of Carmichael. Lady Scott had once claimed Carmichael singled her out because he liked her, that his once childish pranks and taunts disguised his real interest. Anna hadn’t the heart to correct Lady Scott’s delusions. They would never see eye to eye about the Earl of Carmichael. Regardless of what Carmichael may or may not think of her, Anna would never like him after all he’d done.

  Carmichael burst into the room, full of exuberant energy as he greeted his godmother. “There you are—the mos
t beautiful woman in all of London,” he gushed.

  “Charmer,” Lady Scott murmured as Carmichael kissed her on both cheeks like the good little boy he always pretended to be around his godmother.

  He faced Anna next and drew close. “Anna, what an unexpected surprise to find you here, and out of bed so early. You’re usually still abed at this hour.”

  “I’m always awake at this time of day. I just pretend not to be so I don’t have to speak to you,” she informed him as softly as she could so Lady Scott would not understand her words.

  “Children. Now gather about me,” Lady Scott begged. “It is so good to see you both together and looking so well.”

  Carmichael seemed startled by his godmother’s request, but then he smiled warmly as he sank into a chair a good distance from Anna. “Did you and your father leave the ball early Friday night?”

  “Yes.” Anna marveled that he appeared unaffected by the horror of a murder. She wasn’t as lucky as he seemed to be.

  “A pity. I had hoped to speak to your father before you both left. Haven’t found the time to call on him at home since. Why did you both leave early?”

  What a foolish question to ask of her. It had taken all of her persuasion to convince Father not to stay until the very last set without explaining why she wanted to go.

  Lady Scott clucked her tongue at Carmichael. “There is nothing to worry about but your concern for Anna does you credit. Anna suffered a slight headache but is very well now, as you can see. The noise of the crowd can put one out of sorts very easily. Lady Williamson’s ballroom was far too crowded. She should know better than to invite so many guests by now.”

  “True. But I do love the noise and chaos of the Williamsons’ events myself,” Carmichael professed as he finally settled back into his chair, slinging one leg over the arm as if he lived there. “And what of you that night, my dear godmother? You were at home and tucked up in bed by one o’clock with your nightly sherry, I suppose?”

  Lady Scott touched her cheek. “A woman my age must do all she can to take care of herself. You could benefit from an early night or two, young man. You need a wife to look after you too, I think.”

  He shook his head swiftly and his laugher filled the room. “You’ve always retired too early for my taste, but it is always at night when the most exciting things happen to me,” he promised, winking. “As for taking a wife, I’ll tell you about my latest misadventure another day and you’ll see why I would make anyone a poor husband.”

  Anna frowned at him. “What of Miss Berry? I take it you’ve forgotten you made her fall in love with you.”

  Carmichael appeared taken aback by mention of Miss Berry, but then he smiled brightly. “Such concern for my love life, Miss Beasley! You wound my heart!”

  The mention of wounds made her think of poor Miss Goldwell, and how awfully she’d died. She blanched and considered casting up her accounts there and then.

  Carmichael must have finally seen her distress, because he turned his attention to his godmother quickly and dominated the conversation. They spoke of the people they had met at the previous Friday’s ball. He even slipped in a mention of poor Miss Goldwell, but managed not to reveal he knew of her death. After a few moments, Anna gathered her wits. She was in danger of overstaying her welcome in Lady Scott’s drawing room, and that would provoke another lecture on manners at a later date.

  As soon as the pair paused for breath, she quickly said, “I should be going.”

  “It is always a pleasure to have you come to call, my dear.” Lady Scott smiled warmly at them both. “Carmichael will escort you to your carriage, Miss Beasley,” she murmured.

  “Yes, indeed. But I must be going too, unfortunately. I have more errands to run and Sorenson is expecting me. I cannot let him down. I promised to dine with him at the club and I need all the time I can spare to dress for the occasion.” He kissed the woman’s cheeks yet again, smiling widely. “Goodbye, fair lady.”

  “Try to be good, Carmichael,” Lady Scott begged.

  “I’ll do my best,” he told her. “But as always, there are so many pretty distractions that I can make you no promises.”

  Carmichael held out his arm but Anna pretended not to see the gesture as she fetched a handkerchief from her reticule and walked to the door. She brushed her nose with it and descended the front stairs with her maid at her side without waiting for him to catch up.

  Carmichael followed her all the way to the carriage door. “How are you really?” he whispered.

  “I’m in perfect health,” she promised him.

  “I’m not blind, Anna. There are dark circles beneath your eyes as if you haven’t slept a wink,” he continued as he helped her inside. He helped the maid in too and then, to her shock, joined them.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Get out immediately.”

  “I really do need to speak to your father,” he claimed as he made himself at home in Anna’s carriage, taking up all the empty space around poor Jane.

  She scowled at him. “Then take your own conveyance.”

  “I sent it away when I arrived. Besides, there’s nothing improper here. It’s an open carriage and you have your maid to act as chaperone,” he remarked, glancing toward the grinning maid. “There couldn’t be a safer place to be. Jane here is quite sure to keep you from throttling me for any offense I might give.”

  The maid stifled a laugh. “It’s no secret at home that Miss Anna would rather die than be alone with you, Lord Carmichael. I’ll protect you.”

  Carmichael smirked at the maid’s remark and then glanced at Anna with one brow raised. “You find me that repulsive?”

  Anna smiled serenely and ignored the question. “What do you want with my father?”

  “I was going to ask if he might like to spend Christmas at Edenmere this year. The place has become a tomb in recent years. You could come, and Jane, too, of course. I’m sure she would like to escape London and continue to protect me from your wrath.”

  “What makes you think your loneliness is reason enough to visit you?”

  “I never said I was lonely,” Carmichael said very slowly. “I was thinking it was time to open the house again to friends, now the renovations are done.”

  Anna and Carmichael were not friends. She wouldn’t visit him unless Father insisted she had to. “You haven’t hosted a holiday party since your parents died.”

  “No. Obviously not.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You may invite your friend, Miss Hayes, too, if you feel the need for added protection.”

  Anna shook her head. “Father and I have already discussed what we will do this winter. Lord Windermere is very keen for us to join them for Christmas at the Duke of Exeter’s estate.”

  “Exeter, eh? Well, I cannot compete with that sort of invitation. I’m sure you’d rather go there.” He told the driver to pull out of the traffic so he could exit the carriage. “I’ll speak to your father another time about Christmas. Or perhaps he’ll be interested in coming to stay next year after he’s married you off. I’ll see you at the Windermere ball.”

  Anna grabbed his arm before he could climb down from the carriage. “Do not even think of asking your friend to dance with me again,” she hissed.

  He smiled widely. “As he said, I never did ask him to dance with you. He did that all on his own. I suspect you might have found a real admirer in him, Anna,” he suggested. “Just remember, if you ignore the somber vicar’s guise he chooses to don still, Sorenson is cut from the same cloth as every lord in London. We all want the same thing from a pretty woman,” he said, including Jane in his warning look. “Be cautious of anyone who would lure you off alone.”

  Anna could only stare after Carmichael as he strode away. Despite the years of discord between them, and the warnings he’d uttered today, Carmichael had actually said something nice about her—thought she was pretty and had said so out loud!

  She looked at Jane but she was staring after Carmichael, too. “He mu
st be feeling ill or something,” Anna murmured after she’d asked the coachman to continue driving them home.

  “Or something,” Jane agreed with a final shake of her head.

  Chapter 7

  Gilbert waved away the White’s waiter impatiently when he lingered too long beside their table. “I said that will be all.”

  Carmichael raised a brow at his abrupt manner. “You seem out of sorts today.”

  Gilbert scowled and looked away. It burned that this killer remained undetected.

  There hadn’t been any reason for Miss Goldwell’s death. None he could determine that did not involve the ridiculous idea she’d been killed because Carmichael had kissed her once. She’d been a bubbly and bright young woman. She’d had an easy manner, and was accomplished at music and art. She’d been loyal and well-liked by her friends and acquaintances. In short, she had great potential to make a good match this season. There were no dark skeletons in her closet. Her family were all upstanding members of society without a hint of scandal about them. “I cannot determine the reason the killer singled her out,” he confessed.

  Carmichael smiled tightly. “You know my thoughts on this so I will not repeat them again. If another reason exists, you will find it.”

  Gilbert glanced about White’s but saw only strangers. He’d been a member of White’s since shortly after his birth. Father had arranged his membership, though, as a vicar, he’d seldom had an excuse to come here. They were seated in the Morning Room, far enough away from their fellow members to keep an eye on them but not close enough to be overheard or encourage anyone to join them. He had a view of the ground floor hall to see who came and went and a view of the famous bay window, where Beau Brummell was currently holding court. Gilbert hadn’t an acquaintance with him yet, nor did he wish to foster one in the future with such a ridiculous dandy.

  “I wish I had your faith right now.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He’d barely slept for the past few nights. He’d been prowling about society in Carmichael’s shadow, pretending to enjoy himself. But every conversation he’d participated in frustrated him more. As much as he disliked the notion, heiresses were dying left and right. Further investigation had uncovered three other deaths last season, and all remained unexplained still. Gilbert had been given all the information to study and had been appalled that no one else had seen what Carmichael had stumbled upon by chance.