Regency Romances for the Ages Page 2

  “Miss Ray?”

  Deborah looked up. Dowager Lady Ipswich was looking at her curiously. Deborah gave her a small smile. “Forgive me, Lady Ipswich. My feet… I think they’re getting a little tired.”

  “Then let’s sit down, my dear.” The dowager countess’s expression softened, and she took Deborah’s arm. “We can have our refreshments while we sit.”

  Chapter 3

  The Missing Cufflinks

  The dowager countess managed to accost a passing footman carrying a tray and selected two glasses of champagne. Then the two women sat near the terrace windows, Dowager Lady Ipswich passing across one glass. Deborah took it with a small smile and sipped at it. She wasn’t one to drink much, so this glass would last her the evening.

  Much as she liked Dowager Lady Ipswich’s company, Deborah could only hope they weren’t here for too long. Already the walls felt like they were closing in, making it a little harder to breathe.

  “What’s on your mind, my dear?” Dowager Lady Ipswich was still watching her closely.

  Deborah looked towards the door, wishing she knew where her future husband was. “Mr Allwood didn’t look very happy a while ago,” she murmured.

  “Oh, Mr Allwood hasn’t looked happy for years.” Dowager Lady Ipswich shook her head. “My younger son does have a tendency to let things get to him. He’s… highly sensitive.”

  That was a very delicate way of describing the man. Deborah had a few stronger words to say about the younger Allwood son, but they weren’t for anyone’s ears. The dowager countess, herself, wouldn’t think too highly of them. She stared at her glass. “I don’t think Mr Allwood cares for me very much. I’m not of the same social status as everyone here.”

  “Oh, you silly dear.” Dowager Lady Ipswich patted her arm. “Don’t you let that be a problem. Ignore what Mr Allwood thinks. It’s not his decision. Ipswich loves you, and that is enough for me. Especially when I get to see his face light up whenever you’re around. That makes me happy.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I want my children to be happy.” Dowager Lady Ipswich sighed. “It would be nice to have a daughter-in-law that I can converse with and not feel like I’m going to put my foot in my mouth.”

  “My lady!”

  “It’s perfectly true. Mrs Allwood, she’s…” The dowager countess looked across the room. “She’s not the easiest person to get along with.”

  Deborah couldn’t argue with that. The two times she had attempted to speak to Mrs Allwood, the woman had all but turned her back on her. Rude, but Deborah wasn’t about to argue. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself. If Mrs Allwood didn’t wish to talk to her that was up to her.

  Even with her dislike for the woman, Deborah chose her words carefully.

  “I think Mrs Allwood is perfect for her social status,” she said slowly. “She looks like she is very comfortable in this environment.”

  Even with her size and build, Mrs Allwood certainly knew how to entertain a room. When she was being ingratiating, the woman could talk and laugh so gaily you wouldn’t think the sullen lady skulking in the corner were one and the same person.

  Dowager Lady Ipswich was looking at Deborah strangely. “You don’t have a bad word to say about anyone, do you?”

  Deborah sighed. “Well, I have plenty of bad words to say about people, but it’s not in my nature to express them. I want people to like me, my lady. It’s not too much to ask, is it?”

  “It certainly isn’t, and I cannot blame you for that. We all want to be liked and loved in some way.”

  Deborah caught the sad look in the older woman’s eyes and remembered what Ipswich had told her about his father. His parents had been a loving couple, completely devoted to each other. When the last Duke of Ipswich had passed away five years before, Dowager Lady Ipswich had gone to pieces. Somehow, she had managed to pick herself up and carry on.

  She had loved and merely wanted to be loved. Deborah could very much understand that.

  “I do love your son, Lady Ipswich,” Deborah said fervently.

  “I never doubted that, my dear.” The dowager countess patted Deborah’s hand. “You would do him good. Ipswich needs someone in his life who can keep him grounded, not forget himself. That can be you.”

  “Oh.” Deborah winced. “Not much to ask, then.”

  Dowager Lady Ipswich laughed. “It’s not as daunting as it sounds. My husband always said to me that I was his rock. I made him remember that he wasn’t invincible that he was allowed to lean on someone instead of taking it all on his shoulders. Ipswich does the same thing. I know you’ll be able to look after him.”

  In spite of what Dowager Lady Ipswich said, it did sound daunting. Deborah knew the role of a wife was more than just being on her husband’s arm and being the perfect hostess. With the dream slowly becoming real, Deborah was feeling nerves settle in her stomach. This wasn’t going to be as easy as her mother made it out to be.

  Especially when she was marrying far above her station.

  “I don’t want to let you down, Lady Ipswich.”

  “Don’t worry about letting me down, Miss Ray. Worry about your future husband.”

  Then Deborah realized her future mother-in-law wasn’t looking at her. She was staring across the ballroom, a frown descending on her handsome features. Deborah followed her gaze and saw Ipswich enter the room. That wasn’t what made her sit up more. It was the look on his face. He was trying to cover up a scowl.

  What had happened? Did Mr Allwood say something that his brother didn’t like? Was it about her? Deborah had barely seen Ipswich look so upset unless it was about her.

  Dowager Lady Ipswich drew Deborah to her feet, and they headed across to the duke. Ipswich was looking at them, but he seemed to be looking right through them.

  Dowager Lady Ipswich touched her son’s arm. “Are you all right, son? You don’t look very well.”

  “I… oh.” Ipswich’s expression cleared, and he shook his head. “I’m perfectly well. I’ve just…” He swallowed hard and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Deborah and Dowager Lady Ipswich exchanged looks.

  “You and Allwood haven’t had a fight, have you?” Dowager Lady Ipswich asked.

  Ipswich snorted. “Would we fight in public, Mother?” Then he turned to Deborah and gave her one of those smiles that made her weak at the knees. Only it was a little strained. He held out an arm to her. “Come, Deborah. Let’s go and introduce you to some people I want you to meet.”

  Deborah wasn’t sure if he was in the right frame of mind to converse with anyone. Ipswich was looking like someone had wound him up so tight he was going to unravel. Completely different from when they first arrived.

  Deborah hesitated, but then saw the desperate look in his eyes. He wanted her to give him some calm, some normality. This was what Dowager Lady Ipswich had been talking about.

  She wanted to be that calming person for the man she loved. Deborah slipped her hand through his arm, giving him a sweet smile. “All right.”

  Relief twinkled in Ipswich’s eyes, replacing the desperation. He took her other hand and kissed her fingers. “We’ll only be here an hour and a half,” he whispered.

  “Promise?”

  Ipswich’s smile was now much warmer. “I promise.”

  ***

  Ipswich felt like he was going mad. Mislaying one thing was bad enough, but this many things in such a short space of time? He wasn’t that careless. Especially not when all the things that had been going missing held such sentimental value to him.

  What was going on? Ipswich wished he knew. But ever since he had made it public that he was going to marry Deborah, the sudden disappearances of some treasured possessions had started. Was there a connection?

  Ipswich could only hope not.

  “Where is it?” He almost knocked all the papers off his desk, sending a few sheaves scattering through the air. “Come on, you can’t have got up and walke
d away.”

  “Your Grace?”

  Ipswich looked up. His valet was standing in the doorway, poking his head around the door. Ipswich beckoned him in. “Come in, Randle. I think I’m going to need your help.”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.” Lee Randle entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Is there something wrong?”

  “My cufflinks. The ones with my family crest on them.” Ipswich ran his hands through his hair. He was going to lose it with the number of times he had been practically pulling it out. “Have you seen them anywhere?”

  “No, Your Grace. Not for a while.” Randle’s normally placid expression creased in the slightest of frowns. “Where did you last see them?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m certain they were on my desk here.” Ipswich tapped the desk with a finger. “But that was two days ago.”

  “I do not know where they could have gone,” Randle replied. “The only people who come in here are yourself, myself, Mrs Lambert, and Hazel to light the fire. And Dowager Lady Ipswich and Miss Ray, of course.”

  “And none of them would have taken them.” Ipswich slumped into his chair. “They haven’t got any reason to.”

  “No, Your Grace.”

  Chapter 4

  Pointing the Finger

  That had Ipswich pausing. It was the way Randle said it that had his interest piqued. His valet had some suspicions, but he was choosing not to voice them. He had only been with Ipswich a short while after his trusted friend and previous valet, Colin Stanier, had died of pneumonia, and Ipswich still had some trouble trusting him. Clearly, the feeling was mutual.

  Randle was a secretive man. Even after nearly a year in his service, Ipswich knew next to nothing about him.

  “Why did you say it like that, Randle?”

  Randle folded his hands in front of him, staring at a point over Ipswich’s head. “It’s not my place to say, Your Grace.”

  “I think it is.” Ipswich sat forward. “You suspect one of those people of stealing from me, don’t you? Who do you suspect? Mother? Miss Ray?”

  There was a flicker in the man’s eyes at Deborah’s name.

  Ipswich pounced on that. “You think it’s Miss Ray, don’t you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “That’s what you implied.” Ipswich stood and came around his desk. “Talk to me plainly, Randle.”

  Randle hesitated. Then he squared his shoulders. “I find it a bit coincidental that each time you’ve lost something in the past few weeks, it’s about the same time as a visit from Miss Ray.”

  Ipswich had noticed the link as well. But he had dismissed it. Deborah had visited many times before and nothing had gone missing. He couldn’t believe it was the woman he wanted to marry.

  But Randle did.

  Ipswich advanced on him. “Miss Ray would not steal from me, Randle,” he said evenly. “We’re about to be married. Why would she steal from her future husband?”

  “I do not know the reason why, Your Grace.” Randle didn’t even blink as Ipswich got closer. “But she’s the common factor, and I can’t see who else could have taken anything. All your staff are loyal, and your mother is above reproach. Miss Ray is the only stranger.”

  “She isn’t a stranger, Randle,” Ipswich snapped. “Miss Ray has been a frequent visitor here for a while now. You can hardly call her a stranger.”

  “Compared to everyone else, she’s the one we know the least about.” There was a slight curl to Randle’s mouth.

  Ipswich almost started back. He had seen Randle interact with Deborah before, and they seemed to get on really well.

  But the expression that was coming out now was one of genuine dislike. His valet didn’t like his future mistress? How had he not noticed that? And why was he so eager to point the finger at Deborah? Was this a ruse to make him doubt his bride?

  Ipswich glared at his valet. “I know her, Randle. I know. And she didn’t steal from me. I do not want to hear about anyone whispering over Miss Ray’s supposed involvement, or they will be out.” He raised his eyebrows. “You understand what I’m saying, Randle?”

  Randle’s eyes widened a little. Then his face went back to blank, and he bowed, lowering his eyes to the floor. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Even as Ipswich left the study, he was aware of a distinct chill. Randle had distinctly cooled. What did he have against Deborah?

  “Your Grace?”

  Ipswich turned.

  Mrs Lambert, his housekeeper, was hurrying towards him. She bobbed a quick curtsy. “Your Grace, Miss Ray has arrived. She’s in the morning room.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Lambert.”

  Mrs Lambert trotted away, and Ipswich headed towards the morning room, his mind turning over what had happened between him and Randle. His valet seemed determined to point the finger at Deborah. What had Deborah done to upset him?

  Then again, what if he was right? Ipswich felt a chill go down his back. What if Deborah was the thief, and she had been stealing from him? What did she gain from it? Ipswich didn’t know what to think anymore, but it pained him to realize that he couldn’t rule Deborah out of the suspects.

  Deborah was sitting on the couch by the unmade fire, sipping from a teacup. She looked up as Ipswich entered and put her cup aside, giving him a smile that made Ipswich’s heart stumble. The woman could have him on his knees if she so wished.

  “Ipswich.” Deborah stood and gave him a curtsy. “Good day.”

  Ipswich smiled. “Deborah, what have we said?”

  Deborah raised her eyes to his. “Peter.”

  Ipswich opened his arms. Deborah strode over to him, allowing Ipswich to pull her into his arms for a firm embrace. Ipswich kissed her and stroked hair away from her face. “How are you this morning?”

  “I’m all right.” Deborah frowned. “But you don’t look very happy. Have I done something wrong?”

  “No.” Ipswich wondered if she knew what he was thinking. He drew back and rubbed a hand over his face. “Forgive me, my love. My father’s cufflinks have gone missing. He left them to me, and now I can’t find them.”

  Deborah gasped. Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, no. Not them as well.”

  “I know. I just wish I knew where they were going.”

  “You suspect someone’s stealing them?”

  Ipswich sighed. “I have no idea.”

  Deborah bit her lip. Then she pressed a hand to his chest with a smile and adjusted his collar. “I’m sure they’ll turn up. How about, for your birthday present, I buy some new cufflinks for you?”

  “You’ve spoiled the surprise in a birthday gift now.” Ipswich frowned. “And can you afford cufflinks? These almost bankrupted my great-grandfather when he had them made.”

  Deborah smiled, smoothing down his cravat. “For you, I’ll be able to afford anything. Even if I can’t afford anything else for a while.”

  Ipswich was touched. But was it a genuine act of love or guilt? Was she trying to cover her tracks? Mentally, he shook himself. Randle had got him suspicious of his future wife, and now Ipswich was second-guessing everything.

  If Deborah wasn’t the thief—Ipswich was sure she wasn’t—she didn’t deserve her husband not being able to trust her.

  He cupped her jaw in his hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Save your money.”

  “All right.” Deborah bit her lip. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” Ipswich slipped his hand into hers. “Now, did you suggest we should go to the park for a walk?”

  “Yes. Mother’s outside waiting for us.”

  Ipswich grinned. “Then we had better not keep her waiting.”

  ***

  “Ipswich?” A cool hand touched his. “Darling?”

  Ipswich jumped, which only made his head hurt even more. He realized he had been staring at his plate but not eating anything. On either side of him, Deborah and his mother were looking at him strangely.

  Ipswich cleared his throat and reached for his glass of water. “Fo
rgive me. I didn’t mean to wander off in my own thoughts.”

  “You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Dowager Lady Ipswich commented. His mother looked concerned. “Are you feeling well, son?”

  “Perfectly well.” Even as he said it, Ipswich’s stomach churned. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because whenever you’re unwell, you tend to have that faraway look on your face.”

  Ipswich didn’t want to worry his mother or his fiancée. The past week had been tough for him, starting with a minor headache and turning into what could be close to a fever. But Ipswich didn’t want to worry anyone, even as his appetite disappeared and his head felt like it was about to explode.

  He knew he should sit back and stop, but Ipswich ploughed on as normal, hoping that it was just a cold that he could work out of his system. A week on from the first symptoms, and Ipswich was feeling worse than before.

  If he was a sensible man, he would be at home resting. But Ipswich had promised Deborah and his mother lunch; he wasn’t about to back out on his promise to the two women he loved. He swiped a hand across his forehead, his fingers coming away with sweat.

  “I’m not unwell,” he lied. “Just a little tired. I guess I’m getting a little concerned about my belongings disappearing.”

  Dowager Lady Ipswich blinked. “You’re still having your possessions vanish? What’s gone missing this time?”

  “Father’s ring.” Ipswich’s stomach twisted at the memory of not finding his most treasured possession where it was supposed to be. “It was in a box on my dresser in my bedroom. But it’s not there anymore.”

  Chapter 5

  A Sudden Illness

  Dowager Lady Ipswich’s face went pale. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Oh, no. Not that.”

  Now Ipswich was feeling even worse. His mother had been devoted to his father, and Ipswich had promised to take care of his belongings. And he had failed. He reached for his glass, only to find that it was empty. With his hand trembling, Ipswich managed to pour himself another glass, almost spilling the water on the table. “All the things that have gone missing are what Father left me. Something with sentimental value and a lot of monetary value.” Ipswich managed to put the jug down, Deborah helping him. “And I can’t find them anywhere. I’m not that bad at losing things. At least, I didn’t think I was.” In his current state, he had no idea what to think anymore.