Lucian shrugged. ‘None of it makes sense. If she had gone of her own accord she might have locked the door going out, but then the key would have been outside. Or the maid might have locked herself in – but she denies it and she was definitely drugged.’
‘What money did Miss Trenton have?’
‘Her pin money, I suppose. It will not have been a great deal.’
Hmm. If this had been planned for a while then Arabella could have been hoarding money, pilfering it from her brother… I couldn’t believe that an eighteen year old in 1807 was any less capable of planning and tactics than one in the twenty first century, however sheltered and innocent she might be. But I didn’t say so. Not yet. I wanted the facts, not a debate on women’s capabilities. ‘You are certain the maid was drugged?’
‘Absolutely. Cottingham got a doctor to her at once and the dregs of the glass of milk that she had taken to bed had an opiate in them. I do not know which one, but it was tested.’
‘And Sir Clement? Has he an alibi?’
‘Unfortunately, not.’ Lucian poured another cup of coffee. ‘He was out of Town that night, although he was seen at eleven the next day at his club. He says he had left London for his estate in Shropshire because he was so downhearted over Cottingham’s attitude and thought his suit was doomed. Then, when he was changing horses at Dunstable, he decided that he was being chicken-hearted and should return to London and renew the fight for Arabella. When I saw him he certainly looked like a man who had been up most of the night – dark circles under his eyes, yawning – but then he would be tired if he had spent the night stealing away an heiress and secreting her in some love nest. At least, that is Cottingham’s stand.’
‘Arabella is an heiress?’
‘A considerable one. She is a serious catch, one of the best this Season. Cottingham believes that Clem has seduced her away and will keep her hidden until there is enough of a scandal to ensure she is ruined. But the news is all over Town now and there is no sign of the girl. She is long past being ruined. And besides, Cottingham says he will not allow her to marry Clement, scandal or not.’
‘Isn’t that an unusual attitude? I would have thought that if she was ruined he would insist on the marriage, not refuse it.’
‘She has a large enough dowry for her brother to find her a suitor regardless, I imagine. There are men who will marry any woman if they need the money badly enough.’
I bit my tongue on all the things I could say to that. I rather hoped that she had run off with a groom or a sea captain or the butler, but I doubted it.
‘Does Sir Clement need her money?’
‘No. He is not exactly rolling in wealth, but he is comfortably off.’
‘And you believe his story?’
‘I trust his word, not that I would ask him for it. If he says he
did not take her, then that is the truth. And I would trust him with my own sister if I had one. If he had eloped, which would be completely out of character, he would have taken Arabella over the Border, married her and then come back to face the music.’
‘So what do her friends say?’
‘Her friends? I have no idea – There is Garrick coming in. That was quick. You had best go and see what he has found for you.’
Chapter Five
The valet came in before I reached the door. He had a pile of parcels in his arms topped with a delicious hat box, all stripes and bows and cords, and he spoke round the obstruction. ‘I went to Madame Vernier’s establishment, my lord.’
‘Indeed? And told her what?’ Lucian sounded amused.
‘That your distant cousin has arrived on the doorstep having lost all her luggage in a carriage accident in which her woman broke her leg and is therefore confined to bed.’
‘And what did she say to that?’
‘She made several impertinent observations in the French language, remarked that she would see what she had and that she would have expected your lordship to have more imagination. I snubbed her as thoroughly as I could, but I doubt she was convinced. She did however send out some of her seamstresses to acquire the necessary accessories.’
‘She will not gossip. My custom is too valuable to her,’ Lucian said indifferently.
‘You put a lot of business in the way of a modiste?’ I was rather pleased with myself for remembering the correct term for a fashionable dressmaker.
Lucian gave me a heavy-lidded look and said repressively, ‘On occasion.’
Ah, the mistress. Or mistresses. I just managed not to say so out loud.
‘I will place the garments in your bedchamber, Miss Lawrence.’