Gail Ranstrom - A Rake by Midnight

“But the leads are drying up,” Charles’s voice carried to her.

“…looking in the wrong places,” Andrew replied.

“Where would you look?” James asked. “Parlors and sitting rooms?”

A laugh, cut off in the middle, answered that question. “Go back to the hells and Whitefriar taverns. Farrell will help. He’s family now.”

Gina shivered. Her sister Lilly’s new husband was a bit frightening to everyone but Lilly. Even though he was family now, she suspected it would not be a good thing to be in Devlin Farrell’s debt. But James’s next words disavowed her of that notion.

“He has offered to help, and I will likely find a use for his particular talents. With him covering that end of the inquiries, Charlie and I will look to other avenues. But, as Charlie said, the leads are drying up.”

“I can see you have your own suspicions,” Andrew said.

There was a long pause before James spoke again, almost as if he were weighing his words carefully. “The one source we haven’t explored in depth is his family and close acquaintances. They’ve been reluctant to speak with us and have denied any knowledge of the affair. But, damn it all, Drew, they’ve got to be involved in some way. Henley is canny enough, but he could not elude us so nimbly without help from someone in society, and who more likely to help him than his family or friends? God knows, his family would want to keep the secret of his involvement as long as possible. Their own reputations are at stake. And a man like Henley would not hesitate to prevail upon friends.”

Gina frowned. If Henley’s family was wary of James and the Home Office, she wondered if Mr. Renquist would be able to get past their defenses. Oh! She recalled there had been a woman at one of the two tableaus to which Cyril Henley had taken her before that last fateful night who had been almost as horrified as she. The woman had been familiar with everyone there, but her sensibilities had been more kindred to Gina’s. Both had blushed and studied the floor when one tableau featured a nude woman reclining on a backless couch with nothing but a light shawl draped across one hip and her nether regions. Was that woman Henley’s family? Or a friend? Could she know Henley’s whereabouts? Or was she somehow connected with one of the other men?

Oh, if only she could remember the woman’s name!

The rattle of teacups and saucers warned Gina that someone was bringing the tea service, and she dashed toward the sitting room. It would never do to be caught lurking outside the library door.

Bella looked up from her reading and patted the settee beside her when Gina rushed in. “Mama took Nancy and went shopping. Come sit, Gina. We rarely have time alone together these days.”

Gina retrieved her embroidery from a side table and sat beside her sister. “We shall have to hoard all the moments we can.”

“I know. Mama has been sighing and fretting over letters from her friends until just recently. I worried that she might want to go home, but it seems she is over the worst of her homesickness.”

“I pray we will find a place of our own nearby. I would adore to be close to you and Lilly.”

“Even when Mama finally goes back to Ireland, you should stay with me. Or Lilly. There is a dearth of eligible men in Belfast.”

Gina poked the needle through the fine linen. “You know how it will be, Bella. The die is cast. Cora is gone. You and Lilly are wed. I am the last of us, so it falls to me to become Mama’s companion in her old age.”

Bella put her book aside and studied Gina’s face. “I always thought we would all marry and shuttle Mama between us. In another few years, she will not want to live alone, and between us all, we could take turns.”

“Heaven forbid!” Gina managed a laugh. “Would Andrew have married you, or would Mr. Farrell have married Lilly, if they had known Mama came in the bargain?”

“Andrew has managed quite well,” Bella chuckled. “He did not think you and Mama should be without protection. And I am certain Lilly’s husband feels the same.”

Gina bit her tongue to keep from reminding Bella that her husband, and Lilly’s, were the sort they’d needed protection from. Instead, she shrugged and guided the needle and silk floss through the linen again.

The sitting room door opened and Edwards brought in the tea service, followed by Andrew and his brothers. She and Bella stood to greet them.

“May we join you? Seems like forever since we’ve done anything quite so domestic as having tea with the ladies.”

“Please,” Bella said, her gaze holding her husband’s and a soft color suffusing her cheeks. The room had shrunk to the two of them.

Was that what love looked like? Gina looked away, feeling as if she were intruding and she noted that James, too, was watching them. His gaze shifted to her and she blinked. He gave her a lopsided grin, as if they shared some secret that had eluded the others. She returned his smile, feeling schoolgirl shy.

“I hope you do not mind our interruption, ladies,” Charles said. “We ran into Edwards in the corridor and he advised that it was just the two of you.”

“Not at all,” Bella said. She gestured at a console table that held several carafes and glasses. “May I offer you stronger refreshment?”

Charles grinned and went to the table. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Gina sank back to the settee. She wondered if her guilt at eavesdropping could be read on her face. She retrieved her needlework and rested it on her lap in a pretended study of her work while Bella took charge of the teapot.

“Where is the lovely Mrs. O’Rourke?” James asked as he took a teacup from Bella.

“She is out shopping,” Bella said. “I think she is up to something. She’s been quite giddy the past few days.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow and Gina stifled a giggle. Bella was right—he’d been very good-natured about the O’Rourke invasion, and he was, no doubt, trying to imagine Mama giddy. Shrill, perhaps, feigning helplessness or demanding. But giddy?

The conversation floated around her and she felt herself withdrawing again, as she had so often since that night. Though her eyes remained on her needlework, her right hand went to the scar near the hollow of her throat as she thought of how James had bandaged the gash. He had seen her at her worst. Had he not, perhaps she wouldn’t mind being around him quite so much.

Bella’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Gina!”

She started and glanced up again, the question in her eyes.

“James asked if you are well,” Bella told her.

When she realized she was trying to cover the fading scar, she dropped her hand quickly and nodded. She met his gaze and swallowed hard. Remembering his offer of a truce, she gave him a weak smile. “Quite well, thank you.”

The stiff set of his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Good,” he murmured, as if he had expected her to give a different answer.

An awkward silence stretched out as Bella and Charles glanced between them. Was her discomfort so terribly obvious?

She was relieved when everyone turned toward the sitting room door at a clatter in the foyer accompanied by raised feminine voices. A moment later, Mama burst through the sitting room door with nary an acknowledgement, apology or explanation.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, removing her straw bonnet edged in black silk ribbon and fanning herself with the brim. “Public coachmen are so rude! Why, this one did not even want to help me with my packages! Nancy and I had to fetch them all.”

Gina tried to imagine their poor maid, now carrying the entire lot up the stairs to Mama’s room. “What did you purchase, Mama?”

“Quite a few things, dear. Several bolts of cloth, for when I am out of mourning—” she gestured at her black bombazine gown “—and some very nice Belgian lace, trims and notions. Then I went to Fortnum and Mason to purchase tins of dried fruits, exotic teas and preserves.”