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Authors: Ashley Gardner

Tags: #Suspense, #Mystery, #Mystery & Crime, #Romance, #Historical

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BOOK: A Disappearance in Drury Lane
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“What made
you
decide to become an actress?” I asked her. “If theatre isn’t in your blood as it is for Mrs. Collins?”

Marianna dropped her frown and beamed a smile at me, one of her coy, maddening smiles. “Now that question has nothing to do with Abby or her going missing. It’s pure sordid curiosity.”

Grenville said, “It might have some bearing on why Mrs. Collins went missing. Else Lacey wouldn’t ask.”

“Well, Lacey can take my word for it. You are not investigating
me
, gentlemen.”

The affable Grenville was growing impatient. I forestalled his next remark by asking, “What about other principal actresses at Drury Lane? Would they be likely to want to frighten Mrs. Collins? I met another of the actresses once. Mrs. Carter.”

When Grenville and I had traveled to Kent to investigate murders that had happened in an army regiment, the gentlemen there had played an appalling came, dealing out cards that represented the ladies among us gentlemen. Mrs. Carter had been one of the ladies so dealt.

The game was how I’d met Lady Breckenridge. I’d drawn the card that indicated I should escort her about, among other things. She’d assumed me a boor, like her husband, and I hadn’t thought much of her.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Marianne said. “Mrs. Carter is famous enough in her own right and doesn’t need to consider Mrs. Collins her rival. But you never know with actors. Rivalries can be vicious, and the tricks actors play on each other mean. Coal dust mixed into face powder, costumes loosened or made uncomfortably tight, crucial props going missing at the last minute, the way to the actor’s entrance mysteriously barred. A rival might do anything to make an actor look incompetent to an audience, or a manager.”

“Including sending devices that could kill?”

“I promise you, no one I know would go that far,” Marianne said. “Although, perhaps the person only thought the device would mar Abby’s looks, give her scars. Abby is pretty—not a stunning beauty, but you’d never know it when she throws herself into the parts. But with a face too scarred even for makeup to cover, she’d be done, wouldn’t she? It would break her. I’m frightened for her, Lacey. Abby’s been a good friend to me.”

“I promise I will do all I can,” I said. “Now, what about this man, Perry? Do you know why he is married to Hannah Wolff?”

Marianne shook her head. “As to that, I never learned. Puzzling, isn’t it? I thought perhaps Mrs. Wolff needed his money, now that her career is over, but her sister’s husband, Mr. Holt, is a cit, and makes decent coin. They’re happy to look after her. Perry must have had some sort of hold on her. It’s the only explanation.”

“Coleman seems to watch over her.”

“Coleman’s potty about Mrs. Wolff.” Marianne smiled. “He worships her, always has. After she lost her sight, he became her watchdog. Doesn’t let her stir a step without him. She doesn’t mind. He’ll take care of her, don’t you worry. But I can try to find out what Perry has on her.”

Grenville reached over and clasped Marianne’s hand where it lay in her lap. “Not you. I want you to stay as far from Mr. Perry as you can. If he’s not above having gentlemen beaten and abducted, I don’t want you near him. Or even near the theatre.”

Marianne looked annoyed but didn’t jerk from Grenville’s grasp. “What did your other mistresses do when you locked them away all day?” she asked him. “Embroider?”

“I am not locking you away. I told you—come and go as you please. I only want you to stay far from harm.”

“I’ve faced gentlemen and situations far more frightening than John Perry in my life, I’ll have you know,” Marianne said. “Believe in my resilience.”

“You
are
resilient,” Grenville said. “That doesn’t mean I want you to have to face such things ever again. What is my wealth and position for if I can’t use them to protect what I care about?”

I saw Marianne’s expression soften. Not for long, but the tightness at the corners of her eyes went away. I pretended to focus my attention elsewhere while they watched each other.

I took a discreet leave after that, and the two of them didn’t seem to mind me going.

*** *** ***

 

I walked the relatively short distance to South Audley Street, noticing that Brewster, whom I’d spotted resting against a bollard near Marianne’s house, followed me all the way.

When I entered Lady Breckenridge’s townhouse, I found it a hive of activity. Luncheon had come and gone, the afternoon advancing, and I was hungry.

Me missing the meal seemed not to be a cause for consternation. Barnstable merely asked if I’d dined when Bartholomew pushed past him to take my coat, and when I replied in the negative, said he’d send a repast up to my rooms, or her ladyship’s, as I preferred. Her ladyship was awake now, and taking coffee in her boudoir.

The Auberges and Gabriella were up and had eaten, and now were preparing to go shopping.

“Hello,” Gabriella greeted me distractedly as she and her aunt and uncle bundled up against the cold. “We are going on a quest. We’re to visit Egyptian House and then book shops. I want to buy English books, though Mrs. Lacey says I must have more clothes.” She made a face, telling me that the wonders of Egyptian tombs and the contents of books were more important to her than the latest fashions. “Will you join us, Father?”

The manner in which she asked suggested Gabriella had debated a long time whether to include me and had decided it would be polite to do so. Her invitation was given with clear words and a smile, but because she’d told herself it was the right thing to do.

With reluctance, I shook my head. “I have been on too many errands this morning, and must plan many more. I will take you to Grenville’s tomorrow and show you his Egyptian collection. I believe it trumps most museums, except that they have larger pieces. You will like his house—one of the most interesting places in London.”

Gabriella looked relieved, though she tried to mask it. I kissed her cheek, letting a surge of tenderness erase my current frustrations and worry. She kissed me back on both cheeks, French fashion, and followed her uncle and aunt out to the waiting landau.

I saw them off, Gabriella waving to me through the carriage’s window.

Brewster lingered near the railings that separated the scullery stairs from the street. I beckoned him over and asked him to follow the carriage. He tried to argue that Denis had paid him to watch
me
, but I told him that if Perry or anyone else harmed my daughter or the Auberges, I’d hold him responsible. Brewster gave me a sharp look, but finally he nodded, turned away, and jogged after the slow-moving landau.

I went upstairs to Donata’s private sitting room. My wife lounged full-length on a Roman couch, a bandeau woven through her dark hair, her peignoir flowing over her legs. She read correspondence that was scattered on her lap, a thin black cigarillo clasped loosely between her fingers.

“There you are, Gabriel,” she said without looking up. “Do you always rise so painfully early?”

“Always.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She looked at me then, her brows drawing together. “What has happened? You look worried. Tell me. Perhaps I can help.”

I sat down next to her where she made room for me on the couch and rested my hand on her slim ankle. My first wife had never been the remotest bit interested in anything I did. It was refreshing to pour out the events of the morning while Donata listened and made comments with her usual perceptiveness, smoke from the cigarillo slowly curling about the two of us.

“I do not like the sound of this Spendlove fellow,” she said when I’d finished. “He must not be encouraged to believe he can simply step into your life and cause you trouble. I have solicitors, you know, who are now at your disposal.”

Well I knew. The Breckenridges and Pembrokes both had plenty of solicitors and men of business to deal with their properties, financial holdings, and other legal matters. I’d already faced a barrage of them over the marriage settlements that ensured I didn’t rob Donata of all she had.

“I dislike to employ them to keep me out of Newgate,” I said.

“Well, I do not dislike it. I went to much trouble and patience to get you to propose to me, and I’ll not lose you to a trumped-up Watchman.”

I tried a smile. “You contrived to make me propose?”

“Of course I did. You sparked my interest during that billiards game at Astley Close, when you were so disgusted with me. I at first wanted to punish you for your rudeness, and then I began to like you and wanted you to like me.”

“Then my falling in love with you was according to your plan?”

“Indeed.”

Her feigned nonchalance warmed my heart. “Perhaps your schemes worked too well. Now you have a husband who is excellent at tweaking the noses of those in authority, and who is always perilously close to trouble.”

Donata took a pull from her cigarillo and let smoke trickle out with her words. “I know you are. You cannot help being the man you are, which is why I have such affection for you. But I will not have my husband spending the night locked away in Bow Street for trying to help people. You will find Mrs. Collins and get Mr. Perry arrested for what he has done to you, and to the devil with Mr. Spendlove.”

Now we came to why I had such affection for
her
. Her spiritedness, her caring, her interest in life beyond her own circle. I caressed her ankle. “I was not prepared to drop my search, in any case.”

“Good.” The word was delivered with emphasis. “How will you commence? The best thing would be to ascertain Mrs. Collins’ safety. If she is in someone’s clutches, we must get her out of them.”

“I do intend to find her,” I said. “And keep her safe if I can.”

“I have been thinking this through while you were out. A journey to Bath might be the thing—we can look for Mrs. Collins and plan for your daughter’s future at the same time. She must learn a little polish, but that will be simple, as she has an unspoiled, natural manner. Bath is a bit plebian, but Gabriella will enjoy it. She will meet the right sort of young men there, which might bring us luck when I bring her out later in the Season.”

My worry about Perry, Spendlove, and Mrs. Collins evaporated on a wash of confused emotions. “She’s a girl still. Why are you so quick to marry her off?” I must have sounded resentful, because Donata gave me a look of surprise.

“Gabriella is nearly eighteen. Better for her to settle soon into a match—the engagement can last as long as anybody wishes. A betrothal to a good gentleman prevents her eloping with a slippery-tongued blackguard or accepting an offer in desperation from an old French farmer who needs a nursemaid.”

All good arguments, but we were talking about my little girl. “You had an early marriage,” I pointed out, making my voice gentle. “Arranged by your family.”

“If you mean I should give up looking for a good match for Gabriella because my first marriage was a disaster, you will fail to convince me. The match was perfectly fine, as a matter of fact. My parents and I were much deceived in Breckenridge’s character, is all. But my widow’s portion is more than adequate, I have use of this house for my lifetime and a place at the Hampshire estate until my son marries, the dower house after that. And Peter’s future is assured.”

True, Breckenridge at least had not kept his wife in penury, but he’d been crude, disgusting, and openly promiscuous.

Donata continued, not in the least bothered by Breckenridge now. “A perfect excuse all around to allow you to look for your missing actress. We’ll let Gabriella enjoy London for a few days—I do need to get her fitted for a wardrobe—and then be off to see the sights. Bath first, then we’ll take Gabriella to Brighton to see the Pavilion. Grenville might even finagle an invitation inside.” It was just like Lady Breckenridge to sit, unflappable, and propose a solution, planned to the last detail.

“Won’t leaving London upset your schedule for the Season?” I asked. Donata was famous for her musicales and soirees, which were attended by everyone who was anyone.

“Not at all. The height of the Season isn’t for a few months, and the more important balls and events won’t happen until then. An unexpected journey is just the thing to keep life from becoming tedious. I will send a message to my man of business and tell him to hire a house for us in Bath.”

“In which we will share a bedchamber,” I said firmly.

“Of course,” Donata answered without blinking. “Bath’s townhouses are tiresomely small.”

Chapter Nine

 

Marianne was still not pleased I hadn’t produced Mrs. Collins out of the air in the few days I’d been inquiring about her, but she was happy she would accompany us to Bath. Grenville had promised to set her up in a fine house with plenty to do, and Marianne almost softened to me.

We took Peter and his nanny as well, though his tutors tried most stringently to persuade Donata to leave the lad behind, so he would have no break in his education. Donata denied all requests. His tutors could join us on our sojourn if they wished, or she could hire new tutors once she arrived in Bath. The tutors, when given this ultimatum, went quiet and complied.

“They like an easy life in London,” Donata said as she directed her maids in packing her trunk. “But they do not want to risk me severing their connection to Peter completely. I learned very early on how gentlemen would attempt to ingratiate themselves to my son, so they might be rewarded when he comes into his majority. I must be very careful about who is around him. The manner in which gentlemen try to exploit a six-year-old is rather disgusting.”

I found it so too, and knew that many speculated I’d married Donata in order to have influence over the very young, very rich viscount. The fact that Donata did not share their opinion was gratifying.

The Auberges chose to stay in London, in Donata’s house, when offered the opportunity, the fiftyish couple a bit tired from all the traveling they’d been doing. Now that Lady Breckenridge and I were safely married, they considered us adequate chaperones for Gabriella, and, after all, I was her true father. By law, Gabriella was mine, and mine alone. I’d agreed she could continue living with her mother only because of my compassion for Gabriella. I’d decided after painful contemplation that I wanted her to be happy more than I wanted to possess her.

BOOK: A Disappearance in Drury Lane
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