The Richmond Thief Read online

  N.

  “Well, well,” Althea muttered, “I wonder if Mr. Read gave him a talking to? Then again, I suppose a duke may do anything he likes, so perhaps the contrition is genuine.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Althea hastily shoved Norwich’s note under her own incomplete missive. “Come in.”

  Charles stepped into the room. “Ah, cousin, I thought to find you here.”

  “Yes, your mother has been kind enough to let me use her writing desk. I received a note from my son, you see.”

  “How delightful. And what does he write of his progress?”

  “It seems his studies are well advanced. At least that is what I gather from him and the letter that accompanied it from Mr. Pellham. We have high hopes that young Arthur will be every bit the scholar that his father was.”

  Charles smiled. “And his mother.”

  “You are too kind.” Althea crossed the room and sat down in a chair that was pulled up to the fire.

  Charles sat opposite. “No, I think not.”

  There was an awkward silence. Charles rubbed his hands together nervously.

  Then Althea said, “And how is Lady Levanwood taking the shocking theft of her diamonds? She seemed in good spirits last night, but such a loss must be very difficult to bear.”

  “She feels it more than she would let on to us. That necklace has been in the Levanwood family for many generations.”

  “The diamonds were stunning, to be sure. But I wonder how the word of her choice to wear them could have gotten out. Surely only the family would have known?”

  Charles coughed. “Pardon, but perhaps you have not been in London long enough to know that nothing may be kept quiet. One has only to look at the staff of any great house to see that the number of persons who may have knowledge of such a thing is endless. And then there are the bankers and the jewelers, and so on.”

  “Surely you do not suspect the bank? And the jeweler would have no reason to steal a piece as well known as the Levanwood necklace.”

  “Who is to know what the motive was?”

  “Money, I suppose. Forgive my impertinence, but I do hope the necklace was insured.”

  Charles nodded. “Let us not talk of such distasteful subjects.” He stood abruptly. “Lady Trent, Cousin Althea, I think you may have guessed the reason for my seeking you out this morning.”

  Althea stared at him, a dull ache starting in the pit of her stomach. “No, I’m afraid not, Cousin Charles.”

  He started to pace, muttering to himself. “Surely, but perhaps I spoke too soon. In any case, my feelings will be denied no longer.” He stopped and placed a hand over his heart. “Dearest Althea, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

  Althea looked down, unsure of how to answer such a declaration. The Levanwoods must be in dire straits to force the issue so soon. “I—sir—cousin.” She cleared her throat and looked up. “I’m sorry to pain you, but I had not thought—I was not contemplating—in short, I cannot accept your generous offer.”

  He looked crestfallen, but then he said solemnly, “I fear I have been too precipitate. Your grief for your late husband does not abate sufficiently to allow you to entertain the offer of another.”

  Althea jumped at the excuse. “Yes. I have just now put on colors, and I cannot contemplate marriage with anyone until my heart—Sir Arthur’s death was a great blow to me. I do not feel fully recovered.”

  Charles bowed low. “I honor your sentiments, cousin, more than words can say.” He took her hand and kissed it reverently. “But I do hope that in time you will consider my offer. My heart shall remain yours until you choose to claim it.” Then he bowed again and swiftly left the room.

  Althea stared at the fire, trying to catch her breath. Her heart raced—not with excitement but with anxiety. How could Charles have thought she was ready for such a step? And if Charles was not solely motivated by money, then had she done anything to lead him to believe that she would welcome his advances? She could think of nothing, except that her generally open and unguarded temperament may have led her astray. She must try to be as aloof as the London women pretended to be.

  And there was the Norwich matter to be taken care of as well. Somehow she had to convince someone to take her to Hyde Park, since young ladies, even widowed ones, did not venture forth without accompaniment. This might have proved an easy task had she shown any prior inclination to promenade with the town notables farther afield than Grosvenor Square. Instead, she had declined any number of offers to accompany Lady Levanwood. But perhaps she could convince her hostess that the allure of Hyde Park was too great to resist, even for Althea, and endeavor to meet Norwich without raising suspicion.

  Althea went to the desk and refolded the note, slipping it again under her own letter, and finished her missive. She gathered up her papers, determined to work on the monograph when her mind was more settled, and then thought better of leaving. The Levanwood’s library had clearly been assembled by a notable reader sometime in the last century. However, as to new volumes, it lacked everything but popular novels of the kind often checked out of the circulating libraries. Strange, when Charles claimed to be as bookish as herself. Where did he keep his books?

  Despite this paucity of interesting reading, there were several volumes of a scientific nature that could always be counted upon for an hour’s amusement. Althea selected a large folio book with colored botanical plates and sat down upon a small settee. After half an hour of silent contemplation, the door opened suddenly.

  “Cousin!” John came over to the settee. “What have you there?”

  Althea showed him the plate she had been studying. “A charming illustration of a pink rose in full bloom.”

  “Why is it that all females prefer the stodgy rose when the wildflowers are so much more delightful? There is something so easy about flowers in a field—so natural and pure. It calls to mind a rondel I heard once, now let me see—”

  “I agree entirely,” Althea said, cutting off the proposed rondel. “I was studying the drawing and not the flower. The illustration is quite lifelike and true.” She pointed to the center of the flower. “Just look at how the stamen is depicted. I did a number of drawings for my husband’s works, so I take every opportunity to improve my craft.”

  “So you draw, then?”

  “Yes, but not quite so well as this. Or at least, not with the same delicacy. It is hard to give a delicate touch to certain subjects—a beetle, for example.”

  “A beetle?” John wrinkled his nose distastefully.

  “Beetles. Quite a number of them. My husband was very fond of beetles. He even discovered one. Dermestes trentatus. A very strange sort of animal that feeds on decaying flesh.”

  Lord John raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like an odd fish, your husband. But this is most pleasing that you draw, for I have in mind a set of illustrations to accompany my poem about the wolf men. And you are the very person to know just how to go about it.”

  Althea had a sudden inspiration. She closed the book firmly. “Yes, but I lack practice and must surely improve my technique if I am to create drawings that truly capture the terror and pathos of such a subject.” She looked at him forlornly. “There is a lack of natural subjects here in town. If I were back at Dettamoor Park, I would not want for subjects, but here,” she shrugged her shoulders, “I find so little real beauty in urban life. If there were but a park or a—”

  “The park! Why, of course, Cousin Althea, I have been stupid not to think of it before. I have not driven you to promenade in Hyde Park yet. And you must come. Once we have nodded to all the biddies, I can take you around on foot and we shall hit upon the very subjects you require. Is that not a capital idea?”

  Althea smiled. “Capital.”

  So at a few minutes past five o’clock, Althea was assisted up into a phaeton of alarming height. John had, in a fit of dramatic inspiration, had it painted midnight black with blood-red trim. The horses harnessed in front with jet-bla
ck traces and silver findings were a well-matched pair of grays. Lord John assured Althea that they were prime goers. As he spread a rug across her knees, he added, “My friend, Finley, wanted to buy them off me, too. Double the price I paid. But one does not meet with such blood and bone every day!”

  “No indeed. You did right to keep them. They make such a statement with the black carriage. Like shadow horses leading Charon’s chariot down into the underworld.”

  Lord John seemed much struck. “By Jove, I’d never thought of it in that way. Although it would be better if it were a boat.”

  Althea repressed a smile. “Not very practical on land.”

  “True. Still, it’s a good image. I have half a mind to use it.”

  “I’m sure there must be some legend your friend picked up on his travels of a death carriage gliding over the hills with silent horses.”

  “Bound to be. He told me the people there are fearful strange.”

  “They must be if they turn into wolves.”

  John nodded, but it was clear that his thoughts were off on their own flight of fancy.

  Althea determined not to bother him because his trancelike state did not seem to impair his ability to handle what turned out to be a very active pair of horses. Althea watched them twitch and pull at their traces whenever they were forced to stand for more than a second, which was often, given the terrible traffic of London. Once, a burly man with an overturned apple cart almost set them to bolt when he leaped into the road to try to retrieve some of his merchandise. And a stiff-looking man with a small dog made them lunge when he brought his carriage too close and the dog began to yap excitedly. Still, Cousin John remained unperturbed and led his equipage safely into the confines of Hyde Park.

  “We shall have to go around,” John said, leading the carriage into the mass of other vehicles, “and do the pretty first.”

  Althea craned her neck to perceive which vehicle might contain a repentant Norwich, but there were too many. And in any case, she did not know what sort of carriage he would arrive in. Just as well, since he had suggested the meeting place and must look out for her, not the other way around. She straightened her spine and unfurled a small parasol on a long stick.

  John glanced over. “That’s a fetching hat, cousin.”

  “Thank you.” Althea reached up and touched the ribbons of her new wide-brim bonnet to make sure they were still tied tightly under one ear. It was an indulgence since she already felt well provisioned, but the green of the dyed straw set her hair off admirably, and the bunch of artificial cherries set rakishly at an angle on the right side was just frivolous enough to tempt a lady so recently used to black felt and inky tulle.

  “Although I do not normally follow the fashions of the fairer sex, I do declare that the garments you have lately purchased are vastly more attractive than those raven dresses in which you arrived to London.”

  “You surprise me, cousin. I understand your abhorrence of the mourning rites; however, given your gothic interests, I would have thought black would have been the preferred color.”

  “The color, yes, but the form, dear cousin, the form! Why, even burlap cloth may be made acceptable if properly made up. One must approach objects aesthetically—for without proper form, any object may be rendered hideous.”

  “Even precious gems or gold?”

  “Of course! Even those frippery diamonds my mother had the good sense to have stolen. Tell me, Cousin Althea, had you ever seen such a monstrosity?”

  Althea looked at him in surprise. “I would not have thought to view the theft of an heirloom in such a light. Although your perspective certainly reduces the disappointment attendant on such a sad event.”

  “Good riddance, I say. The Levanwoods are far better off with a bank draft from Lloyds than a piece of jewelry that’s only real value is as a shocking misuse of trumpery stones.”

  “Do you consider diamonds to be ugly?”

  “All faceted stones fill me with abhorrence. They are too bright and artificial.”

  “And what, pray tell, are we ladies to wear?”

  “Natural materials. Agate or coral. And pearls are in quite a different category, particularly if they are simply strung. When I was in Italy, I bought a very fine necklace—” He cut off suddenly and turned away.

  Althea followed his gaze. Norwich had pulled up in a low-slung carriage that was drawn by a pair of sinewy brown horses whose proud mien bespoke their cost.

  John hailed him, “I say, Norwich, those are the finest horses I have ever laid eyes on! Where did you get them?”

  “Malverson,” Norwich replied, and, turning his head to encompass Althea, he said, “Bingham, Lady Trent, it is a fine day for a drive, is it not?”

  John bowed quickly in return, but he was clearly still taken with the horses. “Malverson? But that’s impossible! He had those bays, but I’ve never in my life seen him with such fine animals.”

  “They were lately acquired, but I suppose he found he could not handle them as he ought.”

  “The devil, I wish I would have known!”

  “My brother informed me of their existence. If you have a mind to purchase something, I shall let him know. I’m sure he knows of a seller who may accommodate you.”

  “So Verlyn’s back again, is he? Where has he come from this time?”

  Norwich turned again to Althea. “My brother, Lord George Verlyn, is quite enamored of travel. He is lately returned from the East.”

  “How interesting, although the present difficulties with Bonaparte must make travel more inconvenient,” she replied.

  “Yes, but he does not appear to mind it.” Norwich tipped his high-crowned hat. “I will not detain you. Bingham, Lady Trent.” Then he hesitated a moment. “Lady Trent, I should hope you may be in tomorrow. Good day.” And with that, he urged his horses forward.

  “Odd duck,” John remarked once Norwich was out of earshot.

  “He seems not to care much for how others may perceive him.”

  “No reason why he should. The man’s a Croesus. Could buy off anyone he chose, I dare say. Bet Malverson got a pretty penny for those fine horses.” John sighed and then shook his head. “Still, it’s a good thing for you that he seems to have taken a liking to you. Norwich is exceptionally good ton.”

  “For a man as partial as you suggest, he has an odd way of seeking my favor. But I suppose my country upbringing is at fault in thinking that general civility is required in such a circumstance.”

  “Civility? So you are not partial to him?”

  “I hardly know the man,” she said sharply.

  John grinned. “Oh ho, Charles will be sadly put out when he hears that. He thinks your refusal of him is merely a result of Norwich making up to you.”

  Althea pulled her back straight. “Are my affairs so commonly discussed in the Levanwood household? I had thought at least that matters of the heart must, by their very nature, remain private.”

  “Not Charles’s affairs, certainly. Mama has been on the hunt for a wife for him lo these many years. Prosy fellow, Charles, hard for some ladies to stomach. Can’t tell you how many arrangements have fallen through. In any case, Mama is most desirous to see him safely wed. And when you arrived, why, it was plain as a pikestaff that Charles meant to make a go of it. I say, it is good for you that you did turn him down. Serves the fellow right. Been lording about the house like he was king of the world.”

  “Well!”

  “Now don’t get your feathers ruffled, cousin. Wouldn’t be mentioning it to you if I thought you were one of those squeamish females who took offense at everything.”

  Althea bit back a retort. Then, recollecting that Cousin John’s strange ways and loose tongue just might be useful at some point in the future, she said, “No indeed, I am not. It is just very odd for a female in my circumstances to be suddenly beset by suitors, either purported or real.”

  “It was not so in Somerset?”

  Althea thought of Squire Pettigrew and shu
ddered. “Jane and I lived quite retired. Do let us leave this subject for one that must be more interesting to your lordship. Where do you propose that we begin our botanical study?”

  After several nods and bows to acquaintances in other carriages, John directed the carriage toward a walking path down by the Serpentine and handed the reins to the tiger with strict instructions to keep the horses well exercised in his absence. Then he helped Althea down and offered her his arm.

  They passed the next hour quite amicably, discussing the beauty of various plant specimens as Althea sketched them quickly with her charcoal. Althea also drew John out about his love of travel. He had spent several years on the Grand Tour, with most of that time devoted to Italy. He was quite knowledgeable about the language, people, and customs, even going so far as to describe in detail the various delights Rome had to offer. Althea wondered if his return to England had more to do with a lack of continued financing than an inclination for English society.

  At the end of this pleasant interlude, John took her for another turn around the park, and she greeted a great many people, only some of whom she could accurately identify to Jane afterward when the ladies met during their toilette in preparation for supper.

  “It has certainly been quite an eventful day,” Jane said when Althea had recounted the whole to her. “Now I’m sure you will make some remark about preferring the country to town.”

  “No indeed, I am quite happy that you dragged me to London. But for that, I would not now be embroiled in a very exciting investigation.”

  Jane merely shook her head.

  The evening was less awkward than it might otherwise have been given Lord Charles’s late declaration. Lady Levanwood had the forethought to invite several couples for supper followed by cards and the possibility of dancing should one of the ladies desire to display her musical gifts. The couples ranged in age from the elderly Dowager Duchess of Peckham and her new husband, a considerably younger Mr. Smythe, to Lord and Lady Ravenscrest, Lady Ravenscrest having lately emerged from the schoolroom into a marriage with a man twenty years her senior. In between the December and May couples, Viscount Beaconsfield and his lovely but scatterbrained spouse rounded out the assembly.