Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

H adrian flicked a speck from his ivory waistcoat as his coach traveled to Miss Wren's house. He could scarcely believe it was just yesterday that they'd visited Blount in Brighton and learned that Ardleigh was the man they'd been seeking.

The viscount had always been friendly, charming even. Hadrian was sick about all the things the man had done. How did someone carry on normally with his life after committing such heinous acts? Hadrian couldn't understand it, nor did he want to.

Teague had interviewed Gregson who had been horrified to learn that Farringer's had caught fire. He'd then confirmed that Ardleigh had been to the club on several occasions, often with Sir Henry, including on the night of Sir Henry's death.

Gregson was doubly glad he'd left his position and none too eager to leave Hadrian's mews until Ardleigh was in custody. As an added measure of safety, Teague had arranged for a constable to watch over the mews.

Then they'd called on Mrs. Forsythe who was disappointed to have to relinquish the coral cameo, just as Miss Wren had said she would be. Miss Wren had gently explained that it belonged to someone else and needed to be returned. She did not think it was necessary to detail the horrors of Ardleigh's behavior and her own father's involvement in concealing it. She would find out soon enough, and Miss Wren would spare her until she could no longer do so.

Since Hadrian had already been invited to a reception hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland this evening, they'd decided it was the perfect event to encounter Ardleigh. As the attendees would be largely political players, Hadrian was certain Ardleigh would be present.

Miss Wren had balked at first but had then admitted that she didn't have anything appropriate to wear to such an event. Hadrian had offered to outfit her, but she'd resisted, saying that sort of expense was too far. So he'd reminded her that this was her plan. She'd agreed to charge him—responsibly—for the expense.

Hadrian had given her the money in advance to visit a dress shop and wherever else she needed to go to purchase what she needed. He'd given her strict instructions not to skimp, that she needed to fit in. If he were honest, he wanted her to have something beautiful and new since he was fairly certain she hadn't purchased garments in some time. He looked forward to seeing her.

The coach stopped in front of her grandmother's house on Marylebone Lane, and Leach opened the door of the coach. He was perhaps the only member of Hadrian's household who hadn't commented on how nice it was to see him attending an evening event again. Hadrian hadn't done so since January.

"Thank you for not mentioning the fact that I am going out for the evening," Hadrian said to the coachman.

Leach snorted. "I do know Sharp was delighted to press your fancy costume."

Indeed, Hadrian's valet had been positively giddy to prepare him for a night out.

Hadrian walked toward the front door, which Vaughn opened before Hadrian reached it. The butler welcomed him inside. "Good evening, my lord. Always a pleasure to see you."

"Thank you, Vaughn." Hadrian moved into the small entrance hall with its parquet flooring and thick green-and-gold carpet. "Likewise."

Hadrian wondered what Miss Wren was going to do about the butler given the lack of funds from Sir Henry. Perhaps there would be enough money to see him into retirement after the house was sold and the debts settled. Doubtful, but Hadrian would hope for the best. Whatever happened, he would make sure Vaughn was secure. The man deserved it, especially after he'd been assaulted.

Whilst the culprit of that particular crime remained unknown, Hadrian suspected it might have been Fitch doing one of his side jobs for Dunwell, but which had actually been for Ardleigh. Though, why would Fitch have gone to Sir Henry's? Hadrian hoped they would be able to answer all the remaining questions but realized that may not happen.

"Good evening, Lord Ravenhurst," Mrs. Wren said as she ambled into the entrance hall. "Tilda will be along in a moment. It's been some time since she prepared for an event like this."

"Did she have a Season?"

"No, she didn't want that." There was an almost wistful quality to Mrs. Wren's tone. "She came to live with me when she was seventeen. Though, her mother's new husband could have afforded to provide her with a Season. He and her mother reside in Birmingham, however, and either they decided they didn't wish to come to London for the Season, or Tilda convinced them she didn't want one. I suspect it was a combination of both."

But had Miss Wren really wanted one, deep down? If she hadn't thought it was available to her or that it would have been done begrudgingly, he could understand why she may have chosen to avoid it. He could also see her finding the entire effort to be nonsense given her outlook on marriage.

"I hope she will have a pleasant time this evening," Hadrian said.

"She told me you were going as part of your investigation but didn't say why." Mrs. Wren seemed to be fishing for information.

Hadrian could well understand why Miss Wren would not have explained the specifics to her grandmother. The woman didn't need to know that her granddaughter was luring a killer to meet her tomorrow. Hadrian had enough anxiety about it and wouldn't want Mrs. Wren to suffer the same.

He'd hopefully done a fair job of assessing and mitigating the risk of what they were about to do. They'd planned everything through, and Miss Wren would not be alone with Ardleigh at any moment. Still, the thought of her facing a man as despicable and capable of evil as Ardleigh was incredibly unsettling. Hadrian would do anything necessary to keep her safe.

Miss Wren came into the entrance hall then, beautifully garbed in an ivory silk gown with a black netting overdress. The dress did not cover her shoulders and the neckline had a V that was called the en coeur style. The coral cameo was pinned at the low point, easily drawing the eye.

Her hair appeared much the same as it did every day, but there was just a single ringlet hanging over her collarbone. Small pearls hung from her ears and ivory gloves encased her arms past her elbows. She looked elegant and lovely. Indeed, she took his breath away.

"You are stunning, Miss Wren," he said with a smile.

"Look how well you two match each other," Mrs. Wren noted.

Hadrian supposed they did since they were both wearing black and ivory. Perhaps he should have found a coral pin to stick in his lapel.

"That was not intentional," Miss Wren murmured. She met Hadrian's gaze. "Shall we go?"

He offered her his arm. "Yes."

Mrs. Acorn beamed as she placed an ivory shawl around Miss Wren's shoulders.

"Have a lovely time," Mrs. Wren said with a wide smile.

Vaughn held the door and whilst he wasn't grinning like the others, his eyes held a lively sparkle. It seemed everyone was delighted for Miss Wren to have an evening out.

Except, perhaps, Miss Wren. She didn't look especially pleased. No, she appeared anxious, but he could understand why since he felt the same.

They walked outside to his coach. The March evening was cool but dry, thankfully. Leach held the door and, as had become the norm, Miss Wren took the forward-facing seat.

When they were on their way, Hadrian noticed she hadn't relaxed at all. She looked pale in the light from the lamp streaming into the window from the exterior of the coach.

Rather than point out how she appeared, he said, "I confess I'm feeling anxious about this evening."

"I am as well, though perhaps not entirely for the same reasons you are." She sent him an almost shy look. "I've never been to an event such as this. I have never met a duke or duchess. I think you are perhaps only the second earl I have been acquainted with."

"You are most adept at conversation and know how to present yourself." Hadrian wanted to ease her worry. "You've nothing to be concerned about."

"Just the unknown," she said with a small smile.

He wanted to reassure her but realized it may not be possible. She would have to see for herself and soon would. "I'll be with you the entire time."

"I appreciate that. Just as I appreciate this gown and the many accoutrements that were required." She looked down at her costume. "I feel rather guilty about the expense for something I will only wear once."

"You don't know that," he said. "We may have occasion to work together again, and we may need to dress for evening."

"You anticipate hiring my investigative services in the future?"

"I may, who's to say? Or it may be that someone else engages your services and you decide you need my help." He was going to miss working with her, he realized.

"No one is going to engage me as a private investigator," she said with a harsh laugh. "Except for Mr. Forrest who occasionally employs me to assist with his divorce cases."

"Well, if you ever need assistance with them, I do hope you'll call on me. I am more than eager to help." This entire experience had been incredibly exhilarating and not just because he was uncovering the truth about his own attack. He enjoyed Miss Wren's company and watching her work. "Would you mind me recommending your services?" he asked.

She stared at him. "You would do that?"

"Without hesitation and with great vigor."

A bright, wonderful smile lit her face, and Hadrian didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful woman. His heart beat a little faster, and a heat moved through his body. Disconcerted, he turned his attention to plucking imaginary lint from his coat.

"How do you plan to introduce me?" she asked.

Everything had been moving at such a tremendous pace, they hadn't discussed that. "As we've done in the past, I was going to present you as a family friend."

"I'm sure that will provoke inquiries as to why we are together, particularly about me and my spinsterhood."

"No one will be foolish enough to ask anything, not tonight anyway. And if anyone has the gall to query me about you, I will set them straight." He gave her a firm look. "I will not tolerate any disparagement toward you."

Her mouth ticked up at the edges. "That's kind of you."

They arrived at Northumberland House near Trafalgar Square, a sweeping Jacobean structure that looked out of place now amongst the commercial surroundings. Leach opened the coach door, and Hadrian stepped down to assist Miss Wren.

She placed her gloved hand in his and looked up at the fa?ade as she descended. "I've walked by this house a hundred times, probably. I never imagined I'd go inside."

Hadrian smiled at her as he tucked her arm through his. "Tonight, you shall."

The butler opened the door for them, and Hadrian felt Miss Wren tense. Her gaze moved about the splendid entrance hall. She squeezed his arm, and he instinctively put his other hand over hers.

They moved into the staircase hall, ascending the center steps, then turning to go up the right side to the first floor. The railing was ornate, but the ceiling was even more splendid. A large, extravagant chandelier hung over the center part of the staircase.

The sounds of conversation greeted them when they reached the first floor. They made their way toward the grand gallery, which was also a ballroom. Hadrian had been to Northumberland House on a few occasions, including once during his former fiancée's season. He'd danced with her at a ball here.

They entered the gallery where the duke immediately greeted him. With a large nose and jutting chin, the duke possessed an arresting countenance. He'd just inherited the title last year but had served in the House of Commons prior to that, so Hadrian knew him fairly well.

Hadrian introduced Miss Wren. She curtsied, and the duke gave her an approving nod. They continued on to meet Her Grace, the duchess. She was effusive in her welcome and laughingly asked if Miss Wren was related to Christopher Wren.

"I am, in fact," Miss Wren said. "He was my many times great-grandfather."

The duchess appeared quite impressed. "How extraordinary! Does His Grace know? He is quite enamored of Wren's work and enjoys a lively debate about whether Wren's plan for London should have been adopted after the Great Fire."

"I'm not sure he does," Hadrian replied. "We will be sure to discuss it with him later."

They moved along the gallery, and Miss Wren studied the paintings intently. "This is like being in a museum."

"I suppose so, yes. It reminds me somewhat of the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles." Which was now, in fact, a museum.

"I wouldn't know what that looks like."

"Similar to this, but…gaudier."

Miss Wren bit back a laugh. "I shall not aspire to visit then."

"You should, at least for the gardens," Hadrian said. "They are magnificent."

"We should look for Lord Ardleigh." Miss Wren turned from the wall of paintings and scanned the long room. "But there are so many people, and this is such a massive space. Truly, why does anyone need to live in such a place?"

"I agree it's excessive, but Northumberland House has been in their family since just after Queen Elizabeth died. I believe the Metropolitan Board of Works would like to demolish it as so many other great houses along the Strand have been, to make way for more commercial buildings."

"While I do think that is for the best, I'm sure it is distressing for their graces." She continued to look about the room then shifted her gaze to Hadrian's. "I've only met the viscount once and very briefly—at Sir Henry's funeral. You will have better luck finding him."

"True." He pulled her along the gallery. "Let us make a circuit until we find him. It may be that he has not yet arrived."

They spent the next hour meandering and chatting with a variety of people, all of them colleagues of Hadrian's—and their wives. A few of them looked askance at Miss Wren, and Hadrian hoped they weren't passing judgment as to her accompanying him. Though, Hadrian acknowledged their coming together was at least unusual.

But he didn't care. Their work here tonight was too important. It was worth the risk of social judgment.

At last, he spotted Ardleigh. "I see the viscount," Hadrian said. "He's about fifteen paces in front of us. He's speaking with Lord Dalwyn."

Miss Wren exhaled. "Finally."

"Are you ready?"

"More than." She started forward, and Hadrian kept apace.

A few moments later, they stopped next to the two gentlemen. They were dressed in their evening finery, and one or perhaps both of them carried a great deal of scent. Ardleigh made eye contact with Hadrian and smiled.

"Evening, Ardleigh, Dalwyn," Hadrian said. "Allow me to introduce a dear family friend, Miss Matilda Wren."

"That name seems familiar," Ardleigh said. His gray eyes assessed Miss Wren, moving over her in a fashion that made Hadrian want to knock him to the ground.

"We met at the funeral of my grandfather's cousin, Sir Henry Meacham," she said demurely, a smile teasing her lips. Was she being flirtatious? Perhaps she thought that would appeal to the viscount, and it probably bloody well would.

"Ah, yes, I recall now. Women always look so different out of their mourning weeds," Ardleigh said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Wren," Dalwyn said with a kind nod.

"Thank you, Lord Dalwyn. It's been difficult for my grandmother, as she has of course known Sir Henry for some time. And his daughters are most bereaved, so I have been managing a great many things for them. He died quite suddenly."

Hadrian watched Ardleigh for any hint of a reaction. There was nothing, except perhaps that his features were unnaturally frozen. One might expect a look of sympathy at least.

"That is always unfortunate," Dalwyn replied with a furrowed brow—his expression was extremely sympathetic. "Though I suppose death is hard no matter how it arrives."

"Very true," Miss Wren said. "Compounding matters is the fact that it seems Sir Henry's death may not have been as we thought. We were told he died of a heart attack, but it now appears he was—" She cut herself off and glanced toward Hadrian with a distressed countenance. "I'd rather not say," she whispered.

Hadrian patted her shoulder. "It's all right," he murmured. He didn't want to add anything, for she was doing a stellar job needling Ardleigh. He hadn't yet reacted, but Hadrian saw a tic in his neck that belied his state of calm.

She lifted her hand toward the brooch, where her fingers fluttered gently before she lowered her arm once more. Ardleigh's gaze followed her movement and locked on the brooch. His lips moved, the lower one drawing in briefly. Hadrian looked to the man's hands to see if he did anything. The fingers of his right hand curled in slightly then straightened.

"That is a lovely brooch, Miss Wren," Dalwyn noted. Dalwyn! Not Ardleigh.

Miss Wren touched the coral briefly. "Thank you. It actually belonged to Sir Henry. Apparently, he found it some thirty years ago."

Ardleigh did the thing with his lip again. And his hand. His nostrils also flared. Was his flesh turning red above his collar?

"His daughter had forgotten about it, then we found it as we worked on emptying the house," Miss Wren continued. "Though, I've taken over managing all that for her. She became too distraught to continue. Indeed, I'll be there again tomorrow morning to hopefully finish up. I'm just glad to be of help."

"How awful for her," Dalwyn said. "My wife was much the same when her father died. The grief strikes you in ways you can't expect."

"What made matters truly worse was someone breaking into the house and assaulting the butler, if you can imagine," Miss Wren said with quiet outrage. "Horrible people try to take advantage of grieving households."

Dalwyn's eyes rounded. "Ghastly!" He turned his head to Ardleigh. "What say you?"

"Ghastly, indeed." It was as if Ardleigh couldn't think of anything original to say. His eyes had flickered with worry when Miss Wren had mentioned the butler. Hadrian couldn't help wondering if the viscount had been responsible for that.

Hadrian suddenly recalled what Vaughn had said to Teague after he'd been attacked. He'd said he'd thought the brigand smelled like a woman.

Pivoting slightly toward the viscount, whom Hadrian was standing closest to, he inhaled deeply. The man's perfume filled Hadrian's nostrils. It smelled of flowers and neroli, and, yes, it was practically feminine. Hadrian knew in that moment that Ardleigh had broken into Sir Henry's, and he'd struck Vaughn. Had he been looking for the brooch?

Miss Wren again passed her hand near the brooch as she smoothed her fingers along the base of her neck. Was she taunting Ardleigh by gesturing to her neck since he'd strangled his neighbor's daughter?

The red above Ardleigh's collar spread farther up his neck. Hadrian concluded Miss Wren had more than completed her task.

Hadrian changed the topic to the business of Parliament, and after another ten minutes, they parted ways from the gentlemen.

When they reached the opposite end of the gallery, the tension in Miss Wren's grip on his arm finally dissipated. "Do you think he'll come to Sir Henry's tomorrow?"

"Without a doubt." Hadrian looked back down the gallery toward where they'd talked with the viscount. "I'd rather not say more here."

"Can we leave?" she asked.

His moved his gaze to hers. "Already? The supper will be served soon."

"I already ate dinner. Though, I do realize, your ilk are accustomed to late night dining. I can't imagine sleeping after that."

"My ‘ilk' don't sleep afterward," Hadrian said with a laugh. "We're up for several more hours before falling into bed."

"Do you do that?" she asked. "For some reason, I can't quite see it. You seem far too responsible for such recklessness."

"It's true I do it less now than when I was younger, but I've had plenty of irresponsible nights." He suppressed a grin as he recalled some of his youthful exploits. "Now, it's sometimes necessary—the late nights, not the irresponsibility—if I'm engaged in business."

"What sort of business?"

He shrugged. "Discussions about bills in Parliament, happenings about the country that we should address, that sort of thing."

"You take your role in the Lords seriously. That is most admirable."

"I do, and thank you. Now, you can perhaps see the benefit in a late supper."

"No, thank you," she said primly. "Especially not tonight. I couldn't possibly eat after that encounter with Ardleigh. He quite turned my stomach. Besides, I've important business in the morning."

Hadrian sobered. "Yes, we do. Let us depart."

When they were situated in the coach, Miss Wren leaned forward. "Did you see the way Ardleigh tried to contain his reactions to the brooch and what I said about Sir Henry—and Vaughn being attacked?" She sounded almost giddy. "His neck even turned red."

"Yes, I noticed all that." He wasn't surprised she did too. "Did you note his perfume?"

Miss Wren's eyes rounded. "I did catch a vague scent, but you were closer to him than I was. Did he smell like a woman as Vaughn described?"

Hadrian nodded. "Neroli and tuberose, if I'm not mistaken."

"That is very specific." Miss Wren appeared impressed. "How did you recognize those scents?"

"My mother adores perfume and has had special recipes made at Floris. I am well acquainted with scents, and if I remember correctly, tuberose is often used to incite passion."

Miss Wren made a sound of disgust in her throat. "You don't suppose Ardleigh chose that fragrance to prey on young women?"

"Probably, as he is truly loathsome. And I am certain he broke into Sir Henry's house and hit Vaughn."

Her lip curled with disgust. "His villainy knows no bounds."

"It does not." Hadrian could not wait to see him pay for his crimes. "After I drop you off, I'll stop at Teague's and confirm our plans for tomorrow."

"He gave you his home address?" Miss Wren asked.

"He did. He's quite committed to catching Ardleigh in a confession and ensuring justice is done for everyone involved. And I am committed to ensuring you are safe."

"I will be fine. Both you and Teague will be nearby to swoop in at the appropriate moment." Clasping her hands in her lap, Miss Wren's face creased with sadness. "I can't keep from thinking of that poor young woman Ardleigh killed and how distraught her family will be when they learned what happened. I suppose it will just be good for them to know."

"That is the best we can do for them now," Hadrian said solemnly. "We can give them the truth."

"What time will you and Teague arrive at Sir Henry's?"

"Very early—just after dawn—and we'll go in through the servants' entrance. We don't want to risk Ardleigh arriving early and seeing us enter." They'd discussed where Hadrian and the inspector would conceal themselves. Miss Wren would be in the parlor where Hadrian would be inside an armoire that he and Teague would move from downstairs. Teague would be hidden in the voluminous draperies on the windows.

"I will arrive around nine," Miss Wren said. "With my pistol at the ready, should it be necessary."

Hadrian's anxiety from earlier returned with greater intensity. "I will hope it does not. Teague and I will be ready with pistols also. We won't let anything happen to you." Hadrian's insides clenched with apprehension at such a thought. He'd come to like Miss Wren a great deal. He was having difficulty thinking about not seeing her every day, but at least he would know that he could. If something happened to her, and he could not see her at all, ever…well, that was unconscionable.

"I shall ensure nothing happens to you either," she assured him.

Hadrian smiled at her. "With you watching out for me, I have nothing to fear."