Page 19 of The Heart’s Choice (Cotton Cops Mysteries #1)
Chapter 18
Up To No Good
H aving taken refuge in her bedroom, Bea gripped the windowsill and watched Roger stalk back to his carriage without a backward glance. Peter and his foppish friend followed the brougham down the track a little way. They turned back to the house, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning like schoolboys.
“Bosom beaux, indeed,” she hissed.
Something untoward was going on, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it might be.
The news of her father’s windfall was too much to process. It appeared this new-found source of income meant the end of her hopes for a relationship with Roger. Her father seemed adamant. If only Roger had come into the house, she might have explained. They could have discussed it rationally, though she was completely out of her depth as far as business dealings went. Whatever her cousin said to him had resulted in a hasty retreat. The prospect of losing Roger tightened her throat. The tears followed unbidden.
* * *
Roger might have known his newly married sister would be visiting when he got home. His face must have betrayed his anguish.
“Things not going well with Miss Parker?” Philippa cooed.
“Mind your own business,” he retorted.
“Leave him be,” his mother commanded.
His gloating sister lifted her chin and floated out of the drawing room.
“Tell me,” Lucinda said softly.
How to confess that Beatrice had broken his heart? “She’s promised to another,” he growled.
Lucinda cocked her head to one side. “That cannot be,” she replied at last. “Who can have courted her?”
“Her cousin, Peter Leigh.”
“Nonsense. I could tell at the ball that she doesn’t even like him. He’s not suitable for the likes of Beatrice Parker.”
“Neither am I, apparently.”
“She told you this?”
“No, Peter told me.”
“And you believe him?”
Now that an icy calm had loosened the knot in his belly, Roger recalled the curious presence of the fop. Odlum was his name, according to Arthur Parker’s accounts of the journey. Why was he at Belmont Grange? He was very friendly with Peter Leigh. What were the two of them up to?
* * *
Bea wasn’t sure how long she’d lain with her face buried in the pillow. She’d cried until her throat was dry and her nose completely stuffed up. Wearily, she turned her head and opened her eyes, taken aback to see Glenda sitting in the rocking chair beside her bed.
She sat up and blew her nose on the handkerchief her maid handed over.
“Don’t worry,” Glenda said. “It’ll all work out with Mr. Sandiford.”
“How can it work out?” she replied hoarsely. “Papa seems adamant.”
“Pshaw. The mortgages are the least of yer concerns.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You mark my words, that cousin of yours and Odlum are up to something.”
Bea wasn’t surprised by the accusation. Glenda had resented Odlum since the journey from Dorset and the unfortunate incident at the Hotel Victoria. “You’ve never liked the lawyer’s clerk.”
“That’s beside the point. You didn’t like him either.”
“I have to admit you’re right. Still.”
“Did ye know Leigh and Odlum are close friends?”
“Not until he showed up here.”
“Does it perhaps explain why Peter came to the funeral?”
“What are you saying?”
“It’s too much of a coincidence. I think Peter knew about the mortgages.”
Bea began to see where this was going. “Odlum could easily have caused the delay in notifying us.”
“Exactly, and now, the two of them are downstairs putting all kinds of ideas into your poor papa’s head.”
Bea acknowledged her father hadn’t been himself since his wife’s death. “Ideas?”
“They’re pressing for Peter to wed ye.”
The fog cleared. Roger had left because he thought … “They told Mr. Sandiford I was promised to Peter.”
“I think ye’re right. And they’ve planted the notion the late Baron Belmont must have hoarded the money in the house.”
Bea had to admit that made sense. “He didn’t trust banks, and lived here as a recluse.”
“Now, miss, we must find that money before the pair downstairs get their greedy hands on it.”
“Finally, dear Glenda,” Bea exclaimed. “Your eavesdropping has borne fruit.”
* * *
Against his better judgement, Roger sent the brougham to pick up Miss Parker the day after he’d been humiliated once again. The lessons had to continue. Fool that he was, he couldn’t abide the thought of Beatrice traveling in the late baron’s decrepit carriage. The Belmont stables were empty in any case. “I suppose the old fool was too miserly to get rid of the carriage or buy a horse,” he muttered to himself, determined to avoid running into the woman who’d broken his heart. He’d have to stay out of his study for a while. Her lingering scent would be too much to bear.
Taking refuge in his bedroom when he heard the crunch of the brougham’s wheels in the yard, he cursed his weakness. He couldn’t allow Beatrice Parker to turn him into a coward. He’d never shied away from a challenge and this should be no different, although he’d always kept his heart out of previous dealings.
After checking his neckcloth in the cheval mirror, he opened the door, took a deep breath and started down the stairs.
* * *
Desperate to explain to Roger that she had no intention of marrying Peter, Bea inquired as to his whereabouts as soon as she entered his home.
“I believe I saw Mr. Sandiford go upstairs a short while ago,” Borden replied.
She hesitated. The bedrooms were upstairs. The upper floor was out of bounds for her, now she no longer resided in the house. In addition, she wasn’t certain if explaining her unengaged status to Roger was the right thing to do, since her father had forbidden her to tell him about the mortgages. And it was apparently the financial benefit to her family that would deny her the chance at happiness with Roger.
Her courage deserted her when she suddenly realized she was halfway up the stairs and he was coming down. “I’m sorry,” she cried, before turning tail and running for the study.
* * *
Fists clenched, Roger resisted the temptation to hurry after Miss Parker. Her students would think it odd if they both rushed into the study. What would he say if he did follow her? He could hardly berate her in front of his workers. And what was she doing climbing the stairs? Was she planning on making some excuse for leading him on? As if I’m sorry made everything all right.
Indecision and frustration combined to make his knees tremble. He sat down on the stairs, hating the weakling he’d become—all thanks to a woman. The invincible Roger Sandiford brought low by love.
Raking his hair back off his forehead, he resolved to get hold of his emotions. Never again would he allow a woman into his heart.