Daring Deception Part 15

"I take it his lords.h.i.+p is not in?"

The butler shook his head.

"And detained lucky, if you ask me, though she/s a taking piece." With another wink in parting. " he disappeared through a doorway at the rear of the house.

Frederica bit her lip in indecision for a moment, then, holding the covered cage she carried behind her back, she pushed open the pa dour door.

A vision of loveliness with clouds of black hair and sky-blue eyes sat at ease on the divan. One glance at the scandalously low cut of her vivid blue gown and the crimson on her lips told Frederica that this was no lady of Quality. "Did you?" -- the woman began, but on seeing Frederica she stopped, raking those perfectly shaped eyes over the drab brown figure before her.

"Oh. I don't suppose you know where Gavin is?" she asked petulantly, with just a hint of a lisp.

"Are you the housekeeper?" "a.s.sistant housekeeper,"

replied Frederica demurely, surrept.i.tiously taking in every detail of the woman's appearance. So thi~ was what a woman of easy virtue looked like!

She was dazzlingly beautiful; a life of sin seemed to have left no outward mark as yet. Moving to the far corner of the room, Frederica set down her cage of mice behind a chair and pretended to dust a table so that she could further examine her.

"Maybe you can be of more help than that dolt of a butler," said the black-haired beat I: after a moment.

"Gavin was to have met me this afternoon at my rooms for tea, and then we were to go for a drive. He promised last night, after my performance. Have you any idea where he might be?"

Frederica shook her head. So this woman was an actress! The fascination she felt at seeing such a creature mingled with an unpleasant sinking feeling at the thought of her spending time privately with Lord Sea brooke--her own betrothed! For a moment, as a wave of anger washed over her, Frederica forgot completely that she wanted no part of that betrothal. How dared he?

"Perhaps his appointment with Miss Dominique has run late," she suggested with sudden inspiration, pulling a name from a novel she had once read.

"He seemed most eager to see her when he left the house."

"Dominique?" shrieked the black-haired lady, somewhat marring the china-doll effect as her features contorted with rage.

"Do you mean Dominique Gaspard? That little snake She knows full well Gavin is mine!" Frederica merely shrugged, delighted that she had happened onto a name that produced such an effect. His lords.h.i.+p would doubtless have a difficult time explaining his way out of this coil! "Well, I'm not budging an inch until he gets back," the visitor declared, to Frederica's secret D.

dismay.

"He'll see that Ariel Sheehan can't be cast off so easily! I suppose he means to stop payment on my carriage, as well?"

To this Frederiea dared not answer. Somehow she had to persuade the woman to leave before the earl returned or he would learn that she had fabricated the story about another mistress--and would doubtless want to know why. Turning her back, she straightened a few ornaments on the mantel, working her way towards the chair where she had left her pet mice. Miss Shechart, whose angry monologue grew more shrill by the second, scarcely noticed.

Reaching her objective, Frederica quickly leaned down and flipped open the door of the cage. Whipping off the cloth that covered it, she shooed the six mice towards the furious actress.

"All his fine promises!" she was saying.

"And all the while he was... oh! Oh! Get them away!

Where did they come from? " Amazingly, her voice rose another full octave as she scrambled up to stand on the divan.

"I fear the house is sadly overrun by the creatures, Miss Sheehan,"

said Frederica mildly.

"I.

am surprised you did not see any before this. Shoo! " She waved the cloth at the confused mice, causing them to scurry closer to the woman.

"Oh, I detest mice!" she wailed.

"They are everywhere, you say? I'll not stay another instant!"

She leapt gracefully from the divan to the par lout door, making Frederica wonder if she were a dancer as well as an actress.

"Tell Gavin to come to see me when he gets in!" she commanded from the doorway.

"I am not finished with him yet!" With that, she turned and fled for the front door, looking nervously along the floorboards as she went.

"Oh, I think you are," replied Frederica under her breath as the front door slammed behind her.

"Quite finished, Miss Sheehan." Turning back into the par lout she began to coax the mice back into their cage, a satisfied smile on her face.

Soon after ascertaining that Lord Sea brooke had gone out, Frederica hurried down to the library the moment Christabel was asleep.

Yesterday's events had strengthened her resolve to find some tangible proof of the Carol's duplicity to show her brother. She had happened, from the top of the stairs, to see Lord Sea brooke when he came in last night, and it had been apparent that he was the worse for drink. Doubtless he had gone to Miss Shechart, been dismissed and had set out to drown his sorrows.

she thought scornfully. No, she could never be happy married to such a man!

Why she had chosen to wait up, peering down the winding staircase, she did not consider--nor did it occur to her that injured feelings played a large part in her anger towards the earl. She only knew that she wanted out of the betrothal more than ever.

Afternoon was generally a quiet time in Sea brooke House, the staff either busy below in the kitchens or retired to their rooms to rest. Frederica reached the library without encountering anyone. She took the precaution of pus.h.i.+ng a chair against the door, to give her warning should anyone attempt to enter, before crossing to the desk.

Pulling open one drawer after another, she discovered quickly that Lord Sea brooke had not nearly her penchant for organization. Receipts, letters and even pound notes were jumbled together with writing paper and bills in no discernible arrangement. Her search was going to be more difficult than she had antic.i.p.ated. Finally, in a bottom drawer, she found a heavy ledger.

Opening it, she saw that it did, indeed, contain the accounts for the earl's estate.

Scanning it quickly with a practised eye, she realized that here was the information she needed. The book detailed the income and expenditures of Brookeside Manor and its surrounding lands for the past several years, presumably since well before the present Lord Sea brooke had come into possession of it. She shook her head at the tale it told: it appeared that the Sea brooke holdings had never been particularly profitable. If anything, matters had improved in recent months, since Gavin had taken control.

Frederica frowned. There were certain discrepancies here. but no, she had no time to puzzle them out now.

Since she could hardly take the entire ledger as evidence, she pulled open the top drawer again to remove a few sheets of writing paper. Copies of some of the key entries would have to suffice for Thomas. As she riffled through the papers, a smaller sheet fluttered to the floor. Frederica picked it up to return it to its place, glancing briefly at it as she did so.

It was a letter, dated less than a year ago, from Lord Sea brooke's sister.

Skimming its brief contents, Frederica's gaze fell on the signature: Your devoted sister, Amity Browning. She blinked at it, then remembered what Lord Sea brooke had said about his sister's fancy that she and Christabel's father had married.

A sudden thought seized her, making her temporarily forget her original purpose in searching the earl's desk. What if Amity hadn't been imagining things? Suppose she and her officer really had married, without her brother's knowledge?

It could mean everything to Christabel--a real future, possibly even an inheritance from her father!

Quickly, Frederica replaced everything she had removed from the desk exactly as she had found it. Her proof of Lord Sea brooke's duplicity could wait.

It mattered far more to discover whether Christabel was indeed the legitimate daughter of Amity and Peter Browning.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

LORD SeeBROOK~ left his solicitor's office in a thoughtful frame of mind.