As she led Cam through the gardens, which, with the exception of the evergreens, were as plain as a lady of the previous century without powder and patch, she waited for him to comment on their route. Surely he knew about the cellar passageway and wondered why they were taking the stairs, precarious in the best of weather.
But he surprised her.
“I am sorry for the way our first meeting went,” he said, and Gemma had to shake her head a little to see if she’d heard him right.
“In the autumn,” he clarified as if there were more than one first meeting to choose from. “I should have been more diplomatic about the rejection of your findings. Less dismissive.”
Aside from the fact that her nose was in danger of falling off from cold, Gemma was also feeling some trepidation about seeing her marine lizard fossil again. What if it were not, in fact, as spectacular as she’d thought it was. What if it were simply the skull of a horse, killed in a shipwreck hundreds of years ago?
She was not concerned about her companion’s bad behavior from months ago.
Still …
“I accept your apology.. I can assure you I’ve not thought of it since.” A lie, but she was hardly going to spill out her heart to him now. It wasn’t the time for it, and besides that, she didn’t wish to show vulnerability at the moment when he finally seemed to take her seriously.
“Well, I have,” he said, halting in his tracks and putting a hand on her arm. “It was foolish of me. You’ve shown yourself to be a serious scholar and I didn’t take you seriously. It was badly done of me. I simply wish you to know that I have changed my opinion.”
She chafed to get down to the shore, but sensed that he needed to say his piece.
Then a troubling thought occurred to her.
“This has nothing to do with the way I was dressed yesterday, has it? Because I can assure you, I was just as knowledgeable the day before as I was with my hair dressed and my bosom on display.”
She’d expected perhaps he would respond with stuttering outrage, but she ought to have known better.
He laughed. “No, Miss Hastings, it has nothing to do with your gown. Or your very agreeable bosom.”
She felt her cheeks redden with heat. “Agreeable bosom indeed.”
“You’re the one who brought it up,” he said, then snickered for some reason she didn’t quite understand.
“What’s so funny?” She didn’t like not being in on the joke.
“Oh no,” he said, taking her arm in his and beginning their trek again. “I’ve already said ‘bosom’ in a lady’s hearing. I won’t compound the issue by explaining what is a highly inappropriate jest.”
“You’re the most frustrating man,” she said in a harassed tone. “How am I to know anything if everything is kept from me?”
But he would not relent no matter how she pressed him.
“If we’re to be discussing bosoms and the like,” she said finally, in a grudging tone, “then I suppose we might be excused for using one another’s Christian names.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound?” he asked wryly. “I suppose it makes sense.”
“Then, Cameron,” she said regally, “let us proceed. I am freezing and I wish to ensure that my fossil has endured no damage in this wind.”
“It would be my pleasure, Gemma.” His voice sent a frisson of something up her spine. A feeling that intensified when he said her name.
What had she got herself into?
Trying to ignore her new awareness of him, she returned her focus to the ground beneath her feet.
When they reached the sea stairs, the wind was such that further conversation was impossible. And she wasn’t too disappointed in that. Such moments as they’d just shared were dangerous. Especially for a woman who had no intention of ever entangling herself with a man, as she was. Yes, it was possible for lady scholars to marry without sacrificing their studies, but such things were rare. And rather than risk having her goals subsumed by those of her husband, she’d rather not jeopardize them in the first place. Remaining unwed had been the best course for her Aunt Dahlia, after all. And Lady Celeste. Though, to be sure, Lady Celeste’s solitude had not been her choice.
Still, it was better to nip whatever it was she felt in Cam’s presence in the bud.
Anything else would risk danger.
Further thoughts on the matter, however, were impossible, as the climb down the stairs was far more treacherous than it had been the day before. At this hour, a thin sheet of ice had formed along the treads, and she was grateful for the railing and Cameron’s grip on the back of her coat. By unspoken agreement, they made their way slowly, one step at a time.
They were but halfway, however, when she glanced over at the area where the fossil had been and gasped, stopping.
Lord Cameron had to pull up short to keep from running her over.
“What is—” He broke off when he looked over and saw what had alarmed her.
Cursing the ice that slowed their progress, she and Cam went as fast as they could without endangering their own necks. When they finally reached the beach below, Cam began to run, his caped greatcoat flapping behind him.
Hurrying as fast as her skirts would allow, Gemma thought at first that the red near the victim’s head was a kerchief of some sort. But as she got closer, she realized it was something far worse.
“Don’t come too close,” Cam said over his shoulder. “You don’t need to see this.”
“But perhaps I can—”
“Gemma,” his voice was sharp, and something about it told her he was feeling some intense emotion. “Please don’t argue with me. I would like to unsee it if I could.”
She blinked at that. And stopped where she stood, several yards from the fallen man.
“But who is it?” she pressed, turning to face the other direction.
“It’s Sir Everard,” Cam said tensely. “He’s quite cold so he’s likely been out here for hours.”
Unspoken was the realization that the baronet must have doubted Gemma’s word just as much as she’d doubted his.
And the fool had risked his life by coming to get the fossil on his own.
“The magistrate is away for the holidays,” she said suddenly, thinking back to how they’d handled things when Daphne and Maitland discovered a dead body in the library.
The hysterical thought arose that they should write some sort of process guidelines for such occurrences to keep on hand in Beauchamp House. Especially given the number of accidents and mysterious deaths that had happened here in the past year.
“He may have left someone in charge in his absence,” Cam said, bringing her attention back to the present matter. “Perhaps we can send one of the footmen to check at Northman’s house. I’m sure he has a secretary at the least.”
A shout from the other side of the beach alerted them to the arrival of George and William.
“I’ll go back to the house with William and see to it,” she said. “And I know it’s not important since a man has lost his life, but is the fossil there? I didn’t see it when I first looked because of all the—”
“No,” he responded before she could finish. “It’s not here. The marine lizard skull has been removed. It’s gone. And it’s very likely the reason why Sir Everard was killed.”
* * *
As it happened, the Northmans had not yet left for their holiday travel and so it was the squire himself who entered the drawing room some two hours later.
“I thought it must be a mistake when I got your message, Miss Hastings,” he said without preamble, “for I thought the likelihood of there being another murder at Beauchamp House was nigh impossible. But clearly, I was wrong.”
“You might have a bit of courtesy, Northman,” Cam said with a scowl from where he sat beside Gemma on the settee. “A man lost his life.”
Given that Sir Everard was dead, he’d decided to leave the guarding of the body to William and had gone indoors not long after Gemma left him. He’d found her in the drawing room with Serena, her eyes suspiciously red as if she’d been weeping. Without waiting to be asked, he’d told George to send for Ben and Sophia. He might not know Gemma all that well, but at a time like this, she’d want to have her family around her.
Now, with Northman barreling in like a bull in a china shop, he was doubly glad he’d called them. Ben’s diplomacy would clearly be needed if they were to get through this interview without Cam throttling the squire with his own neckcloth.
“We’re obviously quite disturbed, Squire,” Ben said, rising from his seat beside Sophia. “It’s a dreadful business and we’d like to get it settled as quickly as possible.”
“I can speak for myself,” Gemma interjected with a frown. “I realize it’s another odd occurrence at Beauchamp House, Squire Northman,” she said, “but as none of the other deaths could be blamed on the inhabitants of this house, I don’t see the point of your criticism. It’s hardly our fault that we’ve been targets for such goings-on. And I can assure you I had nothing to do with Sir Everard’s death. Which you will learn as soon as you look into the matter. I could hardly know that Sir Everard planned to return to the shore in the night.”
The magistrate made a begrudging noise. Then, he frowned.
“You said ‘return’, Miss Hastings,” he pointed out. “Was he here before? What was your relationship to this Sir Everard. Your footman told me only that he’d been staying at Pearson Close.”
Serena who had been sitting at the tea tray, brought him a steaming cup and he took it from her. At her insistence, he lowered himself into a chair near the fire. But the hospitality didn’t dim his curiosity.
“Well, Miss Hastings?” he prompted. “You’d best tell me what you know or I’ll find out some other way.”
Cam stiffened at the man’s tone. He had all but accused her of intending to lie.
He opened his mouth to object, but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. He glanced up and saw that Gemma was frowning. She shook her head in a silent plea for him to stand down. Reluctantly he gave her a small nod and waited for her to speak.
“Sir Everard was one of three gentlemen from the party at Pearson Close,” she began with an admirable degree of calm, “to pay a visit to view Lady Celeste’s collection of fossils and bones two days ago. Lord Cameron, Lord Paley and Sir Everard.”
She was perched on the edge of the settee and the vibrations from a tapping foot beat a tattoo beneath them.
At the mention of Cam, the man’s brows drew together. The magistrate’s gaze settled on him speculatively.
“What’s the nature of this party at Pearson’s place, then?” he asked, addressing Cam. “I’d heard he had a group of gentlemen there but not much more. I wouldn’t have thought a visit to see a bunch of old stones would prove a temptation away from card games and cigars.”
Clearly, Northman couldn’t imagine a reason for men to gather that didn’t bear some resemblance to White’s or Brooks’.
“It is a symposium of sorts,” he explained. “Where collectors and scholars of geology might discuss important developments in the discipline, recent finds, that sort of thing.”
“So, you sit around and talk about bones and soil and whatnot?” Northman didn’t bother hiding his skepticism. “Seems a dull way to spend a house party, if you ask me. But then, I didn’t much care for that sort of thing at university either.”
Ignoring the man’s dismissal of geology, Cam continued, “When I learned of Miss Hastings’ interest in fossils, I offered to bring some of the other gentlemen to see Lady Celeste’s collection. I thought it would give her an opportunity to share in some of the same sorts of conversation on offer at Pearson Close.”
As soon as he finished he realized his mistake.
If Gemma’s slight intake of breath wasn’t enough to alert him, of course.
“Why would a lady wish to attend a party like that at Pearson Close?” Northman clearly had a guess. And it wasn’t one that reflected well on Gemma. “I shouldn’t think that sort of gathering would interest a lady no matter how much of a bluestocking she might be. Though all those gentlemen gathered together in one place without any other ladies to offer competition might be just the thing for a spinster who had already seen her three closest allies wed before her.”
“Now see here,” Gemma said with a scowl. “I had no interest in—”
Cam cut her off before she could finish that thought. It was one thing for Northman to speculate, but quite another for her to put his thoughts into words.
“It is precisely because she was not able to attend the symposium that I brought these gentlemen to visit her,” Cam said. “To talk,” he emphasized. “About fossils.”
The words hung in the air.
“It was all perfectly proper,” Serena assured the magistrate after a minute. “Sophia and I were here to chaperone and Gemma was able to show the gentlemen all of Lady Celeste’s collection and discuss fossils and collecting without fear for her reputation. And if you think she welcomed them here with an eye toward securing one of them for a betrothal, well, you don’t know Gemma very well. That was the farthest thing from her mind.”
Cam would vow it hadn’t been the farthest thing from Serena and Sophia’s minds, however. But they were discussing Gemma at the moment. And though she might have been flattered by Sir Everard’s and Paley’s compliments, he doubted sincerely she’d considered either of them as potential matches.
“So, we know why this Sir Everard was here in the first place,” Northman said thoughtfully, “but why did he come back? And why the dev—er, deuce, would he wish to go out onto the shore in this weather?”
This time, Gemma gave him a brief summary of their contretemps yesterday, complete with her plans to come back this morning with Cam to retrieve her skull.
“You went back to Pearson Close with him?” Northman asked Cam. “And you didn’t tell him about Miss Hastings and her plans to go back?”
“Of course not. I gave her my word,” Cam said with a frown. “As did Paley.”
“She gave Sir Everard her word but she didn’t mean to keep it, did she?” Northman had turned his gaze on Gemma, who sat up straighter. Cam could practically feel the indignation oozing from her pores.
“He tried to steal my discovery,” she said with ill-disguised hauteur. “And I didn’t give my word, I didn’t have to. He dismissed my claims as if I didn’t even exist. As far as he was concerned, my prior claim didn’t matter. My leaving was enough to convince him he’d won. He was horrid.”
“Seems to me, Miss Hastings, that you had a very good reason to wish Sir Everard dead.”
The room fell silent as everyone stared at the magistrate.
“I don’t think you understand my sister very well, Mr. Northman,” said Sophia coming to stand behind the sofa at Gemma’s back. “She has difficulty killing flies. It would be impossible for her to inflict physical harm on another person. Even one as odious as Sir Everard.”
“And how would she have known he would return in the middle of the night?” Serena said calmly. “He wasn’t supposed to return until later today.”
“I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Squire,” Ben said, coming to stand beside his wife. “Gemma didn’t do this.”
Beside him, Cam felt Gemma relax a little at the defense. He wanted to offer a consoling touch but now was hardly the time. Not when all eyes were on her.
Northman, however, had turned his gaze on him and Cam couldn’t help but feel the weight of the man’s speculation.
“You could have killed him, though, couldn’t you, Lord Cameron?” Northman asked thoughtfully. “Mayhap you didn’t care for the way the man insulted your lady. And since you were also in attendance at Pearson’s house party, you might very well have heard him leaving in the middle of the night to return to Beauchamp House’s bit of shore. It would have been easy enough to follow him here and beat him with his own pry bar.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Cam said sharply. “I had no reason to wish Sir Everard dead. I thought he was out of order to refuse Miss Hastings’ claim but that was hardly enough reason for me to murder the fellow. We had a plan to come back this morning and I had no reason to think it wouldn’t work.”
“We don’t even like each other,” Gemma assured the magistrate, focusing on the man’s designation of her as Cam’s “lady.”
When he turned and widened his eyes at her, she shrugged. “It’s true. We’ve done nothing but bicker since we met. I’d sooner expect you to murder me than murder on my behalf.”
She turned back to the magistrate. “Neither of us killed Sir Everard, Mr. Northman,” Gemma said firmly. “Not me, and certainly not Lord Cameron.”
Northman didn’t look particularly convinced, but rose from his chair. “I will have my men remove the body to the doctor’s in town so that he may examine it. Perhaps that will give us more information about the circumstances of the fellow’s demise.”
There was one detail about the body that Cam hadn’t shared with Gemma, and despite knowing she would resent the omission, he said aloud, “There is one more thing about the body, Mr. Northman.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved the note he’d managed to secrete there while Gemma’s back was turned. “This was beside the corpse. A warning, I believe.”
He felt Gemma stiffen beside him. “Let me see that!” she said sharply. “Why didn’t you show me?”
But Northman had already taken the page—torn from a diary or journal it would appear based on the jagged edge. The magistrate stared down at it and frowned. “You should have told me about this first thing,” he said to Cam.
“I’m telling you now.”
Gemma made a noise of impatience and Northman turned a cryptic gaze toward her. He proffered the page and she all but snatched it from his hand.
Cam knew what it said, but seeing the color drain from Gemma’s face made him realize that whatever his response had been, hers was compounded by the fact that she was its target.
“Stop looking for it or you’ll be next,” she read aloud in a voice that was uncharacteristically shaken.
“Who else knows about this fossil?” Northman asked pointedly. “Besides you lot? And Lord Paley?”
“I have no notion of who Sir Everard might have told,” Cam said with a shake of his head. “He seemed reluctant to speak about it last evening for fear of someone attempting to take it, but to be honest, I have little trust in his discretion. He was a boastful man and I would think it next to impossible for him to keep such a discovery to himself.”
The magistrate nodded. To Gemma and Cam he said, “Don’t either of you leave the county. And since I know the other ladies in this house have fancied themselves to be amateur Bow Street Runners, I will warn you, especially Miss Hastings, not to interfere in my investigation. Leave this business to men who know what they’re about. It ain’t seemly for a lady to get mixed up in this sort of thing.”
Before Gemma could argue, Serena stepped forward and put her arm around Gemma’s waist. “I promise you, Mr. Northman, I will see to it that Gemma stays out of trouble.”
Northman made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort.
To Cam, he said, “I’ll be round to Pearson Close later this afternoon to interview the rest of the guests. I’ll thank you not to warn them ahead of time so that they all agree on the same story.”
It was far more canny than Cam would have given the man credit for. He nodded.
And with that, the Squire left, shutting the door behind him.
“I cannot believe we’re being forced to deal with that horrible man yet again,” Serena said, rubbing her forehead. “I love you girls dearly, but could you not have avoided getting involved in murder for this one year?”
Gemma, who seemed to have recovered from her shock over the threat, gave the chaperone an impulsive hug. “I promise none of us did it on purpose. And hopefully this particular misdeed will be solved with little discomfort for you.”
“I’m more concerned about your safety, Gemma,” Sophia said, lines of worry between her brows. “Whoever killed Sir Everard seems intent on warning you against searching for the fossil. I know it’s a waste of breath, but I do hope you’ll heed that warning.”
“But if I simply step away and allow this—this murderer—to steal without any sort of a fight, then what’s to stop him from killing the next time he wants something?” Something about the determination in Gemma’s tone made Cam’s chest tighten. An image of her body in place of Sir Everard’s rose in his mind’s eye and he clenched his jaw.
“Northman will find the culprit,” he told her with a surety he didn’t feel. “You must at least let the man do his job.” Seeing her skeptical response, he continued, “Or, if you are not content to wait for Northman, let me look into the matter. I’m sure I can find out whoever he told about the fossil.”
But instead of gratitude he saw impatience in her eyes. “I am not a child to be placated with promises of sweets. I’m perfectly capable of finding the fossil on my own and when I do—”
She stopped at Sophia’s hand on her arm. “Dearest, you’ve obviously had a trying morning. Perhaps it would be better to discuss this later, when you’re feeling less distressed.”
At her sister’s words, Gemma’s mulish expression deflated a bit. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so frustrated. That awful man tried to take what I am convinced is the bequest Lady Celeste left for me, and now some other terrible person has killed him and in the process stolen my fossil.”
She sighed. “And I sound like a monster for speaking so of a dead man. What a wretched person I am.”
“We needn’t attribute saintly characteristics to the dead,” Ben said quietly, laying a hand on her arm. “There’s no shame in recalling them as they were. Nor is there glory in praising them undeservedly.”
Cam was struck, as he always was, by his brother’s ability to say the right thing at the right time.
It was a skill he had never mastered and he was grateful for Ben’s presence here today.
“I’ll go down and sit with William for a bit, I think,” the vicar continued. “It can’t be an easy task to watch over a body in this weather.”
Ben was also a master of understatement, Cam thought on a smothered laugh.
Before the vicar left, however, he gave Gemma a hug. Then laid his hand on Cam’s shoulder.
“I’m here if you need to talk,” he said quietly. “Both of you.”
Sophia took her husband’s arm. “I’m coming with you.”
With a sigh, Serena rose and said, “I’ll go see if cook will send some tea out to them.”
She was careful to leave the door open, however, something Cam noted with a mixture of amusement and resignation.
He was hardly going to attempt a seduction so soon after finding a corpse.
Or at any time with this particular lady, for that matter.
But Gemma’s first words once they were alone told him she was thinking of anything but seduction.
“Where the devil is my fossil?”