Only a Rogue Knows Read online

  “There were so many guests,” Birdie sighed. “It’s hard to believe someone could have done such a thing.” She took Cordelia’s hands. “Will you be all right, sleeping alone?”

  “Of course I will,” Cordelia said. “I sleep in my own room all the time.” Birdie gave her a curious look and Cordelia realized that she’d never told her sister that she and Arthur slept in different rooms. It was unlikely that she and the General were in a similar arrangement and she was suddenly embarrassed to tell her. “Arthur snores,” she lied. “Snored, I mean. I could hardly sleep most nights.”

  “Poor thing.” The door opened again and the two men returned without the police officer. The General looked as if he was starting to get a headache. Victor looked less than pleased as well and Cordelia frowned at them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They’re down at the servants’ quarters questioning all the staff,” Victor said with disgust. “After midnight and they’ve got all of them awake asking who they saw, and all sorts of nonsense. They seem determined to make everyone in your estate’s life miserable because they haven’t got the first clue who did this.”

  “You should get some rest, Cordelia,” the General said. “I don’t know my way around your kitchen but I do recall where Arthur kept his brandy. I’m going to get you some of it.”

  “Thank you, Richard.” Cordelia smiled up at him gratefully. He was such a kind man, it was no wonder Birdie loved him so dearly.

  “I’m going back down to the servants’ quarters to see if I can’t get them to leave the staff alone,” Victor said. “There’s no call for it.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pembroke.” Their eyes met again, briefly, then he turned and walked out of the room with the General. Cordelia thought she heard them saying something about having some brandy as well and she couldn’t help smiling. “Men,” she said. “Always have to be doing something, don’t they?”

  “They really do,” Birdie said. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling. Arthur’s room wasn’t directly above them but she couldn’t know that. “I’m so sorry they’re making you stay here tonight, Delia. I’d much rather you come stay with us. It’s going to be unsettling sleeping down the hall from a murder scene.”

  “Here’s that drink for you, Cordelia,” the General said, striding into the room and handing his sister-in-law a glass. It was half-full of amber liquid and her eyes widened. “You don’t have to drink it all at once.”

  “What about me?” Birdie stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t I get a drink of brandy as well?”

  “I didn’t know you wanted one,” the General said amiably. He handed his glass of brandy to his wife. “There you are, my love.”

  “Hmph.” Birdie lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink, keeping an eye on her husband over the rim. In spite of the situation, Cordelia found herself laughing a little. Surprised by her sister’s outburst, Birdie took an enormous gulp of brandy and started coughing at once. This made Cordelia laugh in earnest, more so when the General started thumping her little sister on the back. The whole scene would have scandalized their parents – not to mention Mrs. Richmond – but Cordelia didn’t care. There would be plenty of time to cry and ache. This was what she needed right now.

  “Cordelia!” Victor shouted from the front hall, and the panic in his voice froze her blood. She looked up to see him burst through the study door. “It’s your Mrs. Richmond!”

  “Mrs. Richmond?” Both Cordelia and Birdie spoke at once, and Cordelia stood up. Birdie thrust her glass into the General’s hands and he set it aside.

  “What’s happened?”

  “I went down to stop the questioning,” Victor said, out of breath. “They were getting out of hand and one of them started trying to push the staff around, and Mrs. Richmond got in their faces. She was shouting one of the officers down, then clutched her chest and collapsed.” He grabbed Cordelia by the wrist and pulled her into the hall. “Come on, they’re sending for the doctor right now.”

  “Oh my God,” Cordelia said, looking over her shoulder at Birdie. She was right on her heels with the General and Cordelia looked at Victor. “Is she awake? Is she breathing?”

  “She was breathing when I came to get you,” he said. “I don’t know if she’s conscious. I came to get you before I checked just in case she got worse.” He seemed to realize he was still pulling her along and released her arm. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, wishing he would have just kept holding on.

  The four of them ran down the stairs and across the driveway to the modest building where the live-in staff were housed. Birdie was holding her skirt up so high that Cordelia could almost see her knickers while Cordelia was doing her best to keep her beautiful gown out of the dirt. She was vaguely aware that the men were behind them but all she could think about at that moment was the old woman who had been with her since she was born.

  They found Mrs. Richmond lying on the couch, partially covered with a blanket. She was still wearing the muted brown dress she’d worn to the party but someone had been kind enough to remove her shoes. Cordelia looked her over, searching for a sign of life and was relieved when she saw Mrs. Richmond’s chest rising and falling slowly.

  “I think it’s her heart, ma’am,” the carriage driver said quietly. “She’s not as young as she was and them officers got her worked up.”

  “They’ve sent Wesley off for the doctor,” said the cook. “Rode off down to Greenley like his pants were on fire.”

  “That’s good,” Cordelia said, falling to her knees beside the couch. Wesley was one of the stable boys and loved riding horses as hard and fast as he could. If anyone could get to the doctor quickly, it was him. She reached out and took Mrs. Richmond’s hand. It was cool and limp, but when it moved ever so slightly in Cordelia’s grasp her eyes filled with tears.

  “Cordelia Elizabeth Payne,” she said weakly. “What on earth are you doing on the floor?”

  “Don’t try to speak,” Cordelia said, swiping a tear away from her cheek. “They’ve gone for the doctor. You just rest right now.”

  “Those men,” Mrs. Richmond said, scowling. “Thinking they can just come in here and bully people. I’ll expect a full apology from them.” She closed her eyes. “I shall also speak to their superiors.” That she was still able to summon enough anger to complain about the officers’ behavior was encouraging and Cordelia smiled.

  “You do that,” she said, patting Mrs. Richmond’s hand. “You do just that.” Letting go of the old woman’s hand, Cordelia looked around. Patricia was sitting in the corner crying quietly and she went to the girl. “Patricia?”

  “Oh, Lady Whittemore,” Patricia looked up at her and rubbed her eyes with her handkerchief. From the looks of it, it was soaked. “I’m so sorry, I should have been looking for Lord Whittemore instead of dancing. If I had he might still be alive.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia said. “What if you’d walked in on the murderer? You could have been hurt as well.” She was fully aware that the entire staff plus Victor and her family were watching, but she put her arms around Patricia as well. “Come with us,” she said kindly. “I want you to sleep in the manor with us this evening.”

  “Oh no, ma’am!” Patricia’s eyes were wide with fright. “I’d rather sleep out here. What if whoever did it is still in the house?”

  “The police went through the entire manor,” Victor offered. “There’s no one there who’s going to harm you or any of us.” Patricia shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “Thank you very much for your kindness but I’m going to stay here.”

  “Whatever you think is best,” Cordelia said, turning back at Mrs. Richmond. Birdie was sitting on the edge of the couch and was looking down at her former governess with a tenderness she couldn’t remember ever seeing on her sister’s face. Cordelia met Victor’s eyes and he nodded almost imperceptibly toward the door.

  Cordelia followed him out
onto the porch of the servants’ quarters and closed the door behind her. It was dark and cool outside, with only the moonlight to illuminate them. Victor spoke quietly, just in case anyone was listening.

  “They’re going to want to know where you were when it happened,” he said. “Your lady’s maid said she thought you were dancing but no one could remember seeing you.” Victor shook his head. “Either you’re going to have to tell them about us or we have to figure out who killed Arthur while I do my best to keep you out of jail.”

  “Then I’ll tell them,” Cordelia said. Victor looked at her in surprise and she looked into his eyes. They were so blue she could have gotten lost in them were the situation more pleasant. “You said you wanted to be with me. If it proves my innocence, I don’t give a damn about my reputation.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly,” Victor said. “This isn’t the time to make a decision like that.” He reached out and touched her face. His hand was cool on her warm face, but more vital than Mrs. Richmond’s and she closed her eyes. “I do want to be with you, Cordelia. We must be careful, though.”

  “Delia?” Birdie’s voice was very near the door and Victor pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. The door opened and Birdie looked out. “There you are. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, as much as it can be.” Before she had to come up with a way to explain why she was on the porch with Victor, a horse came thundering up the main drive. It was definitely Wesley, who had Dr. Timms on the back of his horse as well, holding on to the younger man.

  “Lady Whittemore,” the doctor said, getting off the horse. He looked shaken and she went down the stairs to greet him. “Your young man said it was urgent. What’s happened?”

  “It’s Mrs. Richmond,” Cordelia said, deciding she didn’t have the strength to go into detail about what had happened to Arthur. The police had brought their own doctor to declare Arthur dead and though she knew their family doctor would hear about it the next day she couldn’t make herself do it right then. Mrs. Richmond was the one that was important. “She seems to have had some sort of episode. We think it’s her heart.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Dr. Timms said. “Every time I see her I tell her she needs to retire but she just tells me I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Cordelia led him up the stairs and he nodded to both Victor and Birdie.

  “Birdie, dear,” Cordelia said to her sister, “could you please show Dr. Timms where Mrs. Richardson is? I just need to speak to Mr. Pembroke a moment more.”

  “Of course,” Birdie said. She opened the door for the doctor and they went inside. Wesley went to put the horse away and Cordelia waited until they were completely alone to turn to Victor.

  “I have no intention of causing more trouble for myself than I’ve already got to deal with but I’m also not going to be sent to jail for something I didn’t do when the answer is as simple as admitting to being unfaithful to my philandering husband.” It sounded terrible when she said it aloud and Victor’s face was expressionless for a moment, making Cordelia wonder if she’d said the wrong thing. Then he stepped forward, grabbed her and kissed her more forcefully than any man had ever done before.

  “Nothing’s ever simple where the law is concerned,” Victor said when he let go of her. “I’ll do my best to protect you, Cordelia, but you must not go making things harder than they are. Unless they try to arrest you, don’t tell the police anything.” He smirked. “Give me the night to figure out how to handle this while I sleep down the hall from you and try not to think about how soft your lips are.” He opened the door to the servants’ quarters while Cordelia was still speechless and went inside, leaving her on the porch.

  Cordelia leaned against the railing that surrounded the porch and looked up at the manor. The last thing she wanted was to sleep alone that night, but if Victor was determined to keep their secret for the night she would have to do the same. She sighed deeply. She’d never gone looking for trouble in her life, but it seemed that trouble had come to her door anyway. Cordelia took a deep, shaky breath, then walked back into the servants’ quarters to check on Mrs. Richmond.

  Sixteen

  After a very long night in which it seemed that no one in the Whittemore manor got any sleep, Victor had a very subdued breakfast with the Ellisons and Cordelia. Mrs. Richmond had been taken back to town by the doctor, who wanted to keep a close eye on her overnight, and Patricia had made an appearance only to help Cordelia dress before going back to the servants’ quarters.

  “It’s all so ridiculous,” Cordelia said as she walked Victor out to the stable where he’d put up his horse the night before. “I just have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Do I contact the mortuary? I don’t have any mourning clothes, I don’t even know where one would buy them. If Mrs. Richmond was here she’d be able to tell me exactly what to do but---“ Victor kissed her, cutting her off midsentence. Cordelia seemed happy to have been interrupted, and reluctant to let him stop.

  “I’ll contact the mortuary about Arthur’s funeral arrangements. I was his solicitor so he left his wishes with me. Of course I’ll handle all the legal aspects of things as well, that goes without saying. I’m sure between you and your extremely enthusiastic sister, you can find a black dress or two.” This made Cordelia sigh and he smiled. “What?”

  “I look terrible in black. Oh, Victor.” His name sounded wonderful coming out of her mouth, though he did wish it would have been under better circumstances. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I’m upset that he’s dead and I never would have wished him to die like this, but he didn’t want me. He was trying to find a way of divorcing me without losing his money. As terrible and cruel as it sounds, part of me is glad to be free of the whole thing.”

  “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” Victor said, dropping his voice. “If something like that got passed to the police, you’d really be in trouble.” He took her hands. “Remember, don’t talk to the police unless I’m with you. If they come out here again, be polite and cooperate but don’t tell them anything until you speak with me.”

  “All right,” Cordelia said. “Thank you for staying with us last night.”

  “It was my pleasure, difficult though it was for me to sleep knowing how close you were.” They went into the stable where Victor’s horse was saddled and ready for him. “I’ll come back later and check up on you. I assume your sister and her husband will be here as well?”

  “I’m not sure,” Cordelia said. “Their son is with his governess but I’m not sure how soon they need to be back.” She smiled. “Not right away, I hope. This house was too big for two people, it’s terrifying to think about being alone in it.”

  “You’ll do fine, I’m sure.” Victor patted her hand, then climbed on his horse. “If you’re really uncomfortable, you can always go stay with them for a while.” Cordelia gave him a look that plainly said she wasn’t going to even consider such a suggestion and he laughed. “Goodbye, Lady Whittemore.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Pembroke.” She stepped out of the horse’s path and went toward the servants’ quarters while Victor left for Greenley.

  As he rode back to town his mind wandered. Whoever had killed Arthur was more than likely someone he knew. There hadn’t been any signs that there was a struggle in the bedroom before he was killed, or that someone had broken in. He made a mental note to ask Cordelia if there had been any guests in the house before the party the next time he saw her.

  It was early enough in the morning that Victor doubted he would have any clients waiting for him at the office, so he went to his house instead. If someone showed up, Bradley could always entertain them for a few minutes. Maybe by poisoning them with some of his coffee.

  When he walked into his house, however, all thoughts of Cordelia and Arthur were swept out of his head as Brian met him at the door with an envelope in his hand.

  “Good morning sir,” he said. “Did you have a good eveni
ng?”

  “Not really, no,” Victor said, walking past him. Brian had been with him before he moved to Greenley so he had long since become accustomed to Victor’s coming home at all hours. “Lord Whittemore was murdered at the party I went to and I spent the night trying to keep the police from arresting his widow.” It was a strange word to use in relation to Cordelia but he supposed that’s what she was now. “And how was your evening?”

  “Quiet as always,” Brian said. “I read a book and when it became apparent you weren’t coming home for dinner, I went to bed.” He followed Victor to the bedroom. “Your dinner is in the icebox, by the way. I didn’t bother making breakfast.”

  “Thank you,” Victor said, taking off his jacket and throwing it across his bed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been offered his dinner for breakfast, but he’d already eaten at the Whittemore manor and didn’t think he could get a second meal down so soon. Brian lingered in the doorway watching him undress and Victor raised an eyebrow at him. “Something the matter, Brian?”

  “This letter came for you yesterday,” he said, and Victor realized he was still holding the envelope. “It’s from Surrey.”

  “Surrey?” Victor stopped in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and took the envelope. There was only one person who sent him mail at home and the last time he’d checked they didn’t live in Surrey. He tore the letter open and unfolded it while Brian very politely made himself scarce.

  Victor’s eyes moved over the letter once, then twice, and he cursed as he threw it on the nightstand. This was the last thing he needed but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, so he vented his frustration by taking off his clothes as if they had done him a great personal wrong and throwing them into the hamper. He snatched a fresh suit from his closet and dressed quickly, then brushed his hair and stuffed the letter into his jacket pocket.

  “Is everything all right?” Brian watched him from one of the wing-back chairs in the living room and Victor scowled at him. “Oh, the news was that good then. Have a good day, sir.” He was just as used to not hearing a farewell from his master as he was to him turning up drunk in the middle of the night, and Victor wondered sometimes if Brian didn’t do a bit of drinking of his own when he wasn’t there. It wouldn’t surprise him. Being the valet to a single man was probably fairly boring.