His Wicked Smile Read online

  Ann smiled. “I cannot promise that, but your back pain will ease with these simple changes.”

  The woman smiled and left. Ann put her payment into the box on the kitchen shelf. Her sense of satisfaction reminded her how much she enjoyed continuing the work her mother had done in Leeds. Gawain may think she was only suited for basement kitchens, but she knew better. She had been trained in the medical arts of Indian royal families, after all, and had the blood of maharajas in her veins. She wouldn’t be cast aside.

  Somehow, she needed to find the way to his heart. If he loved her, life would be perfect, just as it had been with Wells. Of course, if she’d been an ordinary woman, instead of the daughter of Indian royalty, she wouldn’t have inherited the gem that had probably gotten him killed. No one but she knew that one of the fabulous sapphires was still in her possession. She had given Wells the first one to sell so they could buy a second inn, since The Old Hart had been doing so well. They thought they had found their perfect employment. He’d told her to keep the gems a secret, but obviously someone found out and killed him for it. The question was, who? And what would happen if the killer discovered she still had another one?

  Gawain needed to stop poking around in that business or the killer might get suspicious. She’d never really suspected a stranger had done it. Probably one of the locals who frequented their dining room had overheard them talking about Wells’s plan to buy The Royal Arms a couple of miles away.

  She went to the trunk and dug down, until she found a carved box with a lock. The key fit on a chain around her neck. She pulled it from under her dress and unlocked it. When she had the box open, there sat the gem, nestled in its bed of cotton and silk, the last physical remnant of her mother’s royal life. In this case, not a loose stone, but a finely carved gem held onto a gold ring base with tiny prongs, jewelry fit for a queen. She resisted the urge to put it on her finger, but placed it back in the box and locked it, then hid it away again, just as she heard Fern at the door.

  “She didn’t want to return?” Lord Judah asked, passing Gawain a plate of almond pastries that a cakie had delivered to the upstairs office at Redcake’s.

  “Thank you. No. I think she was irritated.” He took a bite, savoring the light, buttery flakes of the pastry.

  “You are getting married mid-week.”

  Gawain laughed. “I might have overlooked that point, but it is a good one.”

  “The family will be here tomorrow?”

  “Including hers,” Gawain agreed. He opened the Gladstone bag at his feet and pulled out his new acquisition. “Take a look at this.”

  Lord Judah opened the slim wooden box and whistled at the necklace inside. “Wedding gift? Looks Indian.”

  “Caliatan, supposedly.” Gawain named the price he had paid. “Fair, do you think? I threatened the jeweler with your expertise.”

  Lord Judah examined the necklace closely. “Within a hundred pounds. I think the central sapphire might have a small flaw, but in this light I can’t say for sure.”

  “I can live with that. I actually wanted to talk to you about another gem.” He took the case back from his friend and replaced it in the bag, then pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is a drawing I had Fern make after I bought her a new set of colored pencils. But you can also use the central sapphire in the necklace as a mental reference.”

  “For what?”

  “Fern doesn’t speak, of course, but I have the impression that her brother was killed over a larger version of that sapphire, which was attached to a simple gold chain. There may have been a pearl suspended between the chain and the sapphire, but she isn’t sure.”

  Lord Judah’s tiger eyes narrowed. “This is a new wrinkle.”

  “Yes. I haven’t spoken to Ann. Not the sort of thing to discuss just before one’s wedding, but I was wondering, with your connections to the trade, if you could find out if such a necklace, or a large sapphire alone, had changed hands in the past couple of years.”

  “Depends on how big it was. The setting isn’t distinctive.”

  “I know,” Gawain said. “It’s a long shot. But the sapphire sounds unusually large.”

  Lord Judah nodded. “I’ll ask for you. Think it will lead to the killer?”

  “Yes,” Gawain said, reaching for another pastry. “I expect it will.”

  “You seem irritated by these events.”

  “If Wells Haldene was murdered over something worth this much money, you’d think the killer would be in funds now.”

  “So?”

  “Harry Haldene isn’t living like a man who has the price of an inn under a pillow.”

  “Waiting to make his move?”

  “What has he been waiting for? It’s been three years.” Gawain shook his head. “He may not be our killer.”

  “Did Lewis uncover any good gossip in the community when he was making arrangements with his blacksmith?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Then the gem is your best lead. I’ll let you know what I find. Right now you’d better make sure your house is ready for a family of four.” He took Fern’s drawing and tucked it away.

  Gawain nodded. “I leave the matter in your capable hands.”

  The next day, family homes filled with guests. Gawain had arranged for his possessions to be sent to Battersea, and the house there had been put in order by Redcake family retainers. Pounds, the family butler, had done minimal hiring for the house, choosing a housekeeper, a footman, and a couple of maids. Gawain wanted to leave some of the staff concerns up to Ann, such as nursery maid. He would choose a carriage when he had time, and a mechanic if he purchased a horseless one from Lewis, or stable hands if he went the old-fashioned way.

  Ann had asked him to meet Harry and Cousin Jeremy at the station since they had no familiarity with London, and to take them to an inn near the church where the wedding would take place the next day, followed by a meal at the Redcake mansion.

  Before going to Ann, he’d begged a nursemaid from the housekeeper at Hatbrook House, managing to avoid family, who would have wondered why. When he arrived at Ann’s flat, accompanied by the nursemaid his sister’s housekeeper had spared from the nursery, he found the air of the place to be abandonment-in-process, with crates, trunks and boxes stacked along the inner wall.

  “It’s a good thing Noel isn’t crawling yet,” he said, kissing Ann on the cheek.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to settle in again,” Ann said, cradling the baby against her shoulder. “All this activity is upsetting his digestion.”

  “Poor mite,” the maid said, peering around Gawain to look at Noel.

  “This is Jenna Wilson,” Gawain told Ann. “She’s an experienced nursery maid and I thought she could sit with Noel while you went to the station with me. You must need a break from all the packing.”

  “Fern is helping,” she said absently.

  “Why don’t you come with me to greet our Haldene guests?”

  She sighed and wiped her face. A streak of dust came away. She looked down. “Am I this dirty all over? It doesn’t seem possible. We didn’t live here very long.”

  Jenna reached for Noel. “Amazing what soot can do in a short time.”

  Ann smiled ruefully and handed Noel to the nursemaid. “It would be polite to collect Wells’s family personally.”

  “I’ll take good care of him,” Jenna promised. “The marchioness has never had a complaint about my work with Lady Mary Ellen.”

  Ann attempted to stare down the maid, but Jenna met her gaze with calm competence. When Ann turned to Gawain, he knew she would depart with him.

  “Fern, do you want to go with us to collect Harry and Jeremy?” Gawain called.

  The girl poked her head out of the kitchen and shook her head, then mimed eating. Ann put her hand to her forehead.

  “We forgot lunch, didn’t we? Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “At least the baby just ate,” Gawain said, taking a milk-stained towel off Ann’s shoulder. “Pull a coat over your
dress and no one will see the dust.”

  “And my hair?”

  “A big hat,” Gawain said firmly.

  “One that covers most of my hair,” Ann agreed. She found a black felt toque banded with white ribbon and pinned it over her mass of frizz, leaving only a fringe of black curls in front. Then she pulled her heavy cloak from its peg. “Too heavy for the season?”

  “Not in this muck. You’ll have to brush the hem later, though. Mud is everywhere.”

  “At least it will cover my dress.” She gave Jenna a last assessing glance, but apparently saw nothing that would concern her, because she then waved to Fern and opened the door.

  Gawain followed her out, pleased for a few minutes alone with his fiancée. The station wasn’t far, near the church, and they waited under an overhang near the tracks for the Haldenes to arrive on the next southbound train.

  He spotted the telltale can of a hot potato seller and went to purchase some, since Ann had missed lunch. He’d only been away for a couple of minutes, but he saw a man next to her as he walked back, leaning much too close.

  “Excuse me,” he heard Ann saying.

  “Just a little company,” the man coaxed in a nasal whine. His hat brim covered his eyes, but he looked young and his clothing dissolute.

  Gawain forced his bad hip into a fast trot and was soon taking Ann’s arm. “Is he bothering you, my dear?”

  Ann squeezed his forearm. “My fiancé has returned, sir. You may depart as quickly as you please.”

  The young man stared at Gawain’s shoes then worked his way up insolently. When his eyes met Gawain’s hard, one-eyed stare he blanched. He stammered his apologies and moved away.

  “I shouldn’t have left you alone for a second,” Gawain said, holding back a pungent curse. He handed her a potato.

  “It was worth it for this,” she sighed, holding it between her gloves. “I had no idea I was so hungry.”

  “You are eating for two.”

  “Yes. Thankfully, I have a big, strong man to help me.” She batted her eyes.

  He wondered if this was a gentle reprimand, since he had not been around for either the pregnancy or early weeks of Noel’s life, but the suggestive way she smiled at him made it seem otherwise. He never would understand the gentler sex. Hadn’t she been utterly uninterested in him recently, mired in secret cares?

  “The sapphire,” he said, the thought of it suddenly come to mind.

  She raised one finely arched eyebrow, her mouth full of potato.

  “Fern mentioned it,” he said. “Wells was killed over a sapphire.”

  She swallowed her mouthful, cold creeping back into a visage that had so recently been soft and loving. He cursed himself for a fool. Had he not told Lord Judah that this was not the topic to discuss just before their wedding? But he was in for a penny now. And a pound.

  “Fern doesn’t speak,” she said.

  “She drew me a picture. Of a necklace with a sapphire. Maybe a pearl too, I wasn’t sure. I have a feeling that she did more than just discover Wells’s body. I think she saw the murder, or at least part of it.”

  She sighed. “It wouldn’t surprise me, given her reaction. Maybe she’s trying to protect herself.”

  “So you think the murderer is someone she knows? Someone who might feel safer because she doesn’t speak?”

  “I have wondered about many things since that morning.” She forced a smile. “But we are moving forward, you and I.”

  “Has Fern seemed any more relaxed since you moved to London?” Gawain persisted.

  “I think her habit of not speaking is utterly ingrained by now. She’s a child. Whatever happened is beyond her understanding.”

  “Was the necklace real?”

  Ann nodded. “It was my mother’s. She was literally saved from her husband’s pyre by my father, and one of her servants smuggled out some of her possessions later. Most of it was sold to pay for expenses over the years, but the necklace came to me.”

  “Who knew about it?”

  “I couldn’t say. It was hers after all. She wore it for special occasions.”

  He heard the clitter-clack of the train coming into the station. “Why did Wells have it in the stable that morning?”

  “He was taking it to an appraiser to prove it was as valuable as the inn we were about to buy.”

  “Who bought the inn when you didn’t?”

  She stamped her feet. “I don’t think it changed hands for months after Wells died, and the new owner wasn’t anyone I knew.”

  “Did anyone in your life come into money about then?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about these things?”

  “It’s possible you haven’t wanted to, considering how much loss you suffered and the busy life you led.”

  “I had plenty of time to think,” she said bitterly. “My bed and my arms were both cold and empty.”

  The noise from the train increased and steam filled the air as the iron beast rocked alongside the platform, brakes compressing in a deafening roar. Ann took a savage bite of her potato, cutting off conversation even if the noise had not done it.

  “I’ve been reading several articles about French psychopathology lately. Very interesting material.”

  Ann kept chewing.

  “Have you heard of therapeutic suggestion? The idea is, you use it to counteract the self-suggestion that has created problems in a traumatized mind.”

  She frowned.

  “Not you, but Fern. There is no doubt she is traumatized and you’ve told me doctors find nothing physically wrong with her, and that she spoke fine until just after the murder.”

  “What is your point?”

  “Perhaps we can talk to her daily, and affirm that her dumbness is not incurable. That is therapeutic suggestion.”

  Ann sniffed. “And this will magically make her speak again?”

  “I have no idea. Or any notion of how long it takes. We should take her to someone trained. But there can’t be any harm in telling her she can speak again.”

  “No, I can’t see any harm in that,” Ann agreed. “I am glad you are concerned about her.”

  “She loves you and Noel very much. I want her to have a good life.”

  “Me too.”

  Gawain turned from her and watched the train as people began to exit. About five minutes passed. Ann ate another potato. Then, he spotted Harry Haldene with a carpetbag, walking toward them from one of the cars in the rear. He appeared to be alone.

  Ann took his arm. “Just Harry? I wonder what happened to Jeremy. I hope he isn’t ill.”

  Harry wore the same suit Gawain had spotted him wearing in Leeds, plus a new bowler. “He looks ready for the city.”

  She smiled. “I can see Wells in him just now and that is rare.”

  Harry did look rather dapper in his good clothes. “Welcome to London. I hope you’ll enjoy your first visit here,” Gawain said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

  Harry took it and pumped it enthusiastically. “Many happy returns. But this isn’t my first London-bound train, though I ’aven’t been here since Wells died.”

  “That’s right. You were here that day, weren’t you?” Ann said with a significant glance in Gawain’s direction.

  Gawain sighed. No wonder she never suspected her brother-in-law. He’d known the man had an alibi, but of course Ann remembered the events clearly.

  “That’s right. Wells sent me ’ere to arrange with some new suppliers. We were going to ’ave a second inn, but of course all that fell apart when he died.”

  “Because the thief stole the money we were going to use,” Ann said.

  Harry looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

  She smiled wanly. “I don’t remember anything much about that time.”

  “You wouldn’t. You nearly died losing the baby,” Harry said. “Come, give us a kiss, sister. I’m glad you’ve found happiness again.”

  The broad, muscula
r Harry hugged Ann as if she were delicate china. Her smile at him was genuine. Gawain’s opinion of the man took a permanent turn for the better.

  “And Jeremy?” he asked. “Is he on a later train?”

  “His hands were like ice last night and ’e was coughin’ to beat the band. I insisted he stay. Didn’t want your baby to take sick.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ann said.

  “Ah, well, he doesn’t clean up as nicely as me.” Harry grinned. “Where’s little Fern? With the wee one?”

  “Yes,” Ann said.

  “Let’s get you to your inn,” Gawain suggested.

  “I’d like to see the baby,” Harry said. “Curious to know if he’s got Ann’s beauty or your ugly smiler.”

  “You’ll see him tonight at the dinner,” Gawain said. “My family doesn’t know about Noel yet.”

  Harry let out a raspy chuckle. “That’s goin’ to lift some eyebrows.”

  Gawain nodded. “But I felt they ought to see him before tomorrow’s ceremony.”

  “There’s no reason Harry shouldn’t see Noel earlier,” Ann said. “Let’s stop at the inn, then go back to the flat.”

  “You have a lot of work to do,” Gawain said. “How are you going to make yourself ready for the party with so many people in the flat?”

  Harry patted Ann’s shoulder. “I’ll see him tonight, Ann. Listen to your fiancé. I know how long washin’ your hair takes.”

  She glared at him and he snorted at her.

  In hindsight, given the obvious closeness of these two, Gawain wondered how Ann had left Leeds for London so easily. She really had been desperate to find him. He couldn’t help but be flattered, especially since her desperation hadn’t simply been that she wished to wed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gawain stepped into the vast foyer of Hatbrook House, which glittered with gold-framed mirrors that threw sparking gaslight around the space, followed by Ann, Fern, and Harry. The nursemaid Jenna was with them as well, but Ann held Noel in a rather tight grip, her trust not being earned easily. Harry and Fern had both been wide-eyed as they’d been retrieved in the marquess’s gleaming carriage and their wonder was renewed in this newly redecorated opulence.