Scoundrel (14 page)

Sir Malcolm Bainbridge leaned back against the worn leather seat of the carriage and rested his hands on top of an ornately carved walking cane. Although his hair had turned gray years ago, and a large mustache nearly obscured his weathered face, his piercing blue eyes showed no signs of age.

“These hired carriages get worse every year, do they not?” he asked his companion. “Smells as if someone spilled a gallon of rum in this contraption.”

“A rank carriage is the least of my concerns at the moment,” the Earl of Crofford replied. “I could not believe it when I heard you’d left town the night of the Ashlands’ ball. The timing could not have been worse.”

Bainbridge nodded sympathetically. “The message Lily translated required an immediate journey. Your letter reached me yesterday and I returned as quickly as I could.”

Crofford raked a hand through his hair and released a long breath. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, Malcolm. I haven’t slept much these past days.”

“No need for apologies, my friend. I understand your worries. Now that Lily is safe in
Brighton
, I will put every available resource on this case. We will track this man down and bring him to justice. If he is a French spy, then we will take further steps to ensure Lily’s safety, and yours as well.”

“Lily isn’t at the safe house in
Brighton
,” Crofford said. He proceeded to explain everything that had happened after he wrote the letter to Sir Malcolm the morning after Lily’s attack, how Remmington had intervened in the plan to send Lily to
Brighton
on the mail coach.

Bainbridge looked startled by the news, but oddly, he didn’t seem overly concerned. He even managed a smile. “I would imagine Remmington thought you a little touched with that story about Aunt Amelia.”

“There is more,” Crofford said. “I convinced Remmington to keep Lily in hiding at his town house. He left me no other choice. She’s there now, in the very lair of the most notorious womanizer in
London
. If he so much as—”

Bainbridge tapped his cane on the floor to interrupt him. “Calm yourself, Crofford. The situation is not as bad as you believe. I assume you asked for some reassurances that he would behave honorably?”

Crofford slapped his kid gloves against his open palm. “Of course I asked for reassurances. He gave me his word on the matter.”

“There you have it,” Bainbridge said. “Remmington is a man of his word. If he gave you his word, then Lily is as safe with him as she would be in
Brighton
. As a matter of fact, I’ll give you
my
word that she’s safer.”

“You extend yourself,” Crofford retorted. “I don’t think either of us knows Remmington well enough to say just how far we can trust him.”

“I know exactly how far I can trust him.” Bainbridge’s gaze turned speculative. “We’ve been friends a long time, Crofford. You are one of the few men I trust completely. What I am about to tell you tonight can go no further.” He waited for the earl’s nod of agreement. “Remmington works for me on occasion. He has a ship at his disposal that can sail at a moment’s notice, manned by a crew more talented than any I’ve encountered. Aside from getting my operatives or their messages in and out of enemy territory, they often track smugglers’ ships to make certain their cargoes are no more harmful than French brandy or bits of lace.”

“How on earth did you manage to bring the Duke of Remmington into your organization?”

“He volunteered,” Bainbridge said simply.

Crofford mulled over that information. “I’m sure the duke is a credit to your organization, and I don’t doubt his ability to keep Lily safe, yet I cannot help but worry. He has a notorious reputation where women are concerned. Now I’ve conveniently placed one on his doorstep. Do you really believe he will resist that temptation if the situation continues for more than a day or two?”

“Remmington would never seduce an innocent young woman.”

“Perhaps,” Crofford mused. “But one wonders what he is doing with Margaret Granger. Surely he has no intention of marrying the chit.”

“The courtship with Margaret Granger was my idea,” Bainbridge admitted. “In the course of Remmington’s work for me, he came across a smuggling operation off the coast of
Dover
. These smugglers carry French spies, not brandy. Rather than seize the renegade ship, we’ve been tracking the operation to discover the spies’ contacts here in
England
. We know already that the head of the smuggling operation is a peer of the realm, a man who had a startling change of fortunes about two years ago. To get this information, I had to have someone close to the man. Close to his daughter, to be more precise.”

“Lord Granger.”

It wasn’t a question, but Bainbridge nodded. “His daughter doesn’t know the true nature of her father’s enterprise, but the courtship gave Remmington an excuse to present himself as a frequent guest at Granger’s estate near
Dover
. He’s gathered more than enough information to condemn the man, but we want to identify Granger’s contacts in
London
before we close the net around the operation. In any event, Margaret Granger’s usefulness is at an end. There are other leads to pursue. Remmington intends to end the courtship soon so that no one, including Margaret, will suspect his involvement when her father is brought to justice. Actually, I believe he intends to have Margaret break things off so the courtship will seem less deliberate. That’s the only part of his plan I’ve questioned. Margaret is too enamored of his title to let him get away so easily.”

“Granger a traitor.” Crofford shook his head. They belonged to many of the same clubs, they’d even attended
Eton
at the same time. Although he’d never been particularly close to Granger, the news was still astounding. “What will happen to him?”

“That depends on Granger.” Bainbridge waved his hand to dismiss the matter. “But his activities are not the true issue here. It is your daughter we are concerned about. As far as I am concerned, there is no one I would trust more to guard her safety than Remmington. You must trust my judgment in this matter, and put your fears to rest. If it will make you feel any better, I will make Remmington aware of my interest in Lily.”

Crofford considered the offer. “Perhaps a word or two would not be amiss, but I don’t want Remmington or anyone else to know of Lily’s activities. The less who know of her work, the safer she will be.”

“You know that I hold my operatives’ identities in strictest confidence. Were these not extenuating circumstances, I would not have said anything about Remmington. Unless he suspects something is amiss with Lily, there is no need for him to know about her work.”

The carriage drew to a halt and Bainbridge pushed aside the worn velvet curtains that covered the carriage window. The gaslights along Saint James’s Street turned the fog a strange shade of yellow, but he could still make out the entrance to White’s. He adjusted his tophat and swung his cape over one arm.

“Keep me informed of any changes in the situation. Sorry to leave you so abruptly, Crofford, but I received another message this evening and I promised to meet the man within the hour.” He climbed down from the carriage and turned to smile at his friend. “After this discussion, I have a fairly good idea why Remmington’s message sounded so urgent.”

Sir Malcolm made his way through White’s sitting room at a leisurely pace. Now and then he paused to speak with acquaintances. He spotted Remmington in one corner of the large room and moved steadily closer to the duke’s table. When he lingered at Lord Shefley’s table, Remmington finally held up one hand to invite him over. The two men greeted each other with casual nods.

“Won’t you join me for a drink, Sir Malcolm?” Remmington indicated the chair opposite his. Bainbridge took the seat as one of the club’s unobtrusive servants appeared with another glass. At a nod from Remmington, the servant poured a drink from the brandy decanter that sat on the table.

“You’re looking well, Your Grace,” Bainbridge remarked, as the servant departed.

“I would feel considerably better if I could enjoy my drink in a place more private.” Remmington glanced meaningfully at several tables where other gentlemen enjoyed drinks and conversation. There was no one close enough to hear exactly what they were saying, but he didn’t like discussing his business in a place so crowded.

Bainbridge shrugged. “A private man often draws unwelcome attention. Hiding in plain sight confounds the curious.”

Remmington ignored the cryptic reply. He leaned forward to refill his own glass, his voice terse. “I’ve tried to reach you for two days. I have a problem, and I need your help to solve it.”

Bainbridge smiled as he lifted his glass. “I am aware of your problem. Very little occurs in this town without my knowledge. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say you are searching for a means to rid yourself of a house-guest.”

“You are correct, as usual.” Remmington swirled his glass of brandy in a steady circle. “I have certain business ventures that require privacy. This guest will complicate matters.”

“Those ventures will not suffer from lack of attention. Your guest is related to a friend of mine, and I’ve given my word that you are the most trustworthy of hosts. A man mustn’t allow mundane business affairs to interfere with more pressing commitments. I will do what I can to ensure that your guest does not require an extended visit.”

“As far as I’m concerned, one day qualifies as an extended visit. I have nothing in common with this person and I find the entire situation annoying, to say the least.” It occurred to Remmington that the director’s connection to Lily suddenly seemed a little too convenient. Appearances were often deceiving, especially when a situation involved Sir Malcolm. “Is your interest in this matter personal or business, Sir Malcolm?”

“When my friends have a problem, I make it my business to help them in any way I can.”

Crofford and Bainbridge friends? Remmington could not think of two men who were less alike. Crofford’s cronies at White’s were a rather dull lot, an elderly group of men who engaged in a seemingly endless debate of the classics. On the other hand, Sir Malcolm kept company with some of the most powerful men in
England
. Bainbridge was the only visible member of an organization so secretive that only the Prime Minister knew all the names of the men Bainbridge employed and their positions within the War Department. Could Crofford possibly be one of those men?

Remmington almost smiled over the thought. The absentminded earl a spy? Crofford could barely manage to keep his daughter safe. Who would trust such a man with secrets of state? No, Bainbridge’s connection to Lily and her father could be nothing more than it seemed, a family friendship.

“No one is happy with the circumstances,” Bainbridge continued, “but we must make the best of them. I daresay you and your guest might find common ground of some sort over the next few days.” His smile grew broader. “Perhaps a shared interest or hobby will enliven your conversations.”

Something else to find attractive about Lily? Remmington shook his head. There was too much already. “The thought is almost frightening.” He drained his brandy, then folded his arms across his chest. “You are better acquainted with this person than I. Have you noticed anything unusual about our friend? A certain inconsistency of character?”

“Anyone will tell you that your guest is unusual. As for inconsistent?” Bainbridge shrugged. “Women are the most confounding creatures on the face of the earth. After twenty-six years of marriage, I could not begin to tell you how my wife’s mind works.”

Remmington glanced around the room, then leaned forward slightly. “She’s hiding something.”

Bainbridge readily agreed with him. “But of course she is. Clara is always hiding something from me. Damned annoying for the most part. Last week I found out she’s been riding
El Capitan
every morning when I expressly forbade her to ride that wild animal. She said I told her that she could not ride the stupid horse in the park, so she’s been trotting off to the countryside. Honestly, I never know how she will twist my words next. Keeps a man on his toes, don’t you know?”

Remmington frowned. “I wasn’t speaking of your wife.”

“You weren’t?” Bainbridge looked perplexed. “You very well could be. If you ask me, women are much alike in that respect. They confound us deliberately.”

Remmington wondered what it was about Lily that turned people insensible when they spoke of her. He tried a more direct tack. “My guest is more intelligent than she would have anyone believe.”

“Nothing unusual there. The reasons escape me, but society dictates as much. I would imagine she doesn’t want to be labeled a bluestocking. Knowing her as well as I do, I can assure you that there is nothing devious or scheming about her, if that is what you are worried about.”

“I’m not sure what worries me,” he said. “She just seems strange at times.”

Bainbridge held up his hands. “She’s a woman. What more need I say?” He drank the last of his brandy, then set the glass on the table and stood up. “I wouldn’t let the matter concern you too much. The situation you find yourself in should resolve itself in a few days and your guest will no longer be a concern.” He gave Remmington a slight bow. “Thank you for the drink, Your Grace. I hope you will allow me to return the favor sometime soon. Perhaps your spirits will be improved when we next meet.”