No Marriage Of Convenience - No Marriage Of Convenience Part 44
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No Marriage Of Convenience Part 44

"And I was wrong. Despite their purchased elevation, the Stoppards are now thought of quite highly. Your grandfather is very much admired in government circles for his economies and reform efforts, while your uncle is an admiral in the Navy. From the accounts I've read of him in the paper, one would think him second only to Nelson in his daring." She paused. "Your relations would have protected your mother and you-whereas I, in my pride and anger, cast you both out to the fates."

Riley glanced up at her mother's portrait. "Where is she buried?" She had wronged her mother all these years-when in truth her mother had loved her and protected her, and had left her life behind to have her child. Perhaps she could make a small atonement to her memory by honoring her grave.

"At Marlowe Manor. We can go there tomorrow. I doubt Stephen will mind, especially since the house is rightfully yours."

"Mine?" Riley asked. "How can it be mine? You said earlier that the title and everything had passed to a cousin."

"Yes, upon Elise's death." The Countess nodded. "But only because I couldn't prove you were her lawful issue or even find you."

"Still, I don't see how it could have passed to my mother or me."

"Because the original Lord Marlowe was a crafty devil-he had helped Good Queen Bess with a number of sticky diplomatic situations and when it came time for him to retire, the Queen granted him a boon: the title of the Earl of Marlowe, the manor, and all the lands surrounding it, as a reward for all his years of unstinting devotion. But the new Lord Marlowe hadn't been a diplomat all those years not to know a thing or two about negotiations. When the Letters Patent were being drafted, he begged Her Majesty to allow the title to pass not only through the paternal line, but also to a daughter." Her grandmother grinned. "He flattered the old girl that she would be a worthy example to his descendants that a daughter could carry on a family's legacy as well as any son." Riley's grandmother laughed. "Besides, his only remaining issue was a daughter, and he wasn't about to see his hard-earned reward revert back to the Crown any time soon."

"So my mother was a Countess."

"Yes, as you would be as well, if I could only prove your mother and father were married."

"It's like something out of one of my plays," Riley murmured.

Her grandmother's hearing was sharper than Riley gave her credit for, as the old girl laughed. "I suppose it is like one of those overreaching tragedies you call art."

Riley tipped her nose in the air and teased. "I'll have you know, my plays are never overreaching."

"Bah!" The Countess waved her hand at Riley. "You wouldn't be a success if they weren't. And I take it you are a success?"

"Yes...for the most part..."

"You hesitated-are you or aren't you?"

Riley shook her head and then told her grandmother about Mason. "So I must make this play a

tremendous hit and repay him the money I owe him.""You'll do no such thing," her grandmother said, her mouth set in a familiar line. "I'll send a draft over toAshlin this very afternoon. Then you'll move in with me, immediately. I'll hear no more nonsense about you returning to the stage. You are the rightful Countess of Marlowe, and such a public performance is beneath you now."

"It hasn't been beneath me these past years," Riley said, her temper rising. "And I will not take charity

from you-even if you are my grandmother. I repay my own debts."

"Stubborn jade," the Countess muttered. "You got that side of your disposition from the Stoppards."

Riley coughed and slanted a skeptical glance at her grandmother.

"Oh, and perhaps a measure of it from the Fontaines," the lady conceded. "A very small part."

Mason lost no time in making his way to the Marlowe town house. As he alighted the hackney Belton had procured, a phaeton came to a stop behind them, and the occupant, Stephen Cheval, the Marquess of Cariston, tossed the reins to the lad who'd sprinted forward from the mews. Hopping down from the driver's seat, the elegantly dressed Cariston gave Mason about as much regard as one might upon finding a beggar on one's front steps.

Mason frowned back. He'd never liked Cariston-not in person or by reputation. They'd been schoolmates years ago-and even then Cariston had held an unholy disdain for those of lesser title and fortune as beneath his contempt or concern.

"Ashlin," he said, bowing only slightly in greeting.

"Cariston," Mason acknowledged.

The other man took a disparaging sniff at the poor hackney as it pulled away. "Surprised to see you out," he said. "Thought you'd have put on the black gloves and headed for the country by now, what with the scandal at your house this morning."

A prickle of unease niggled down Mason's spine. "Hardly a scandal," he said. "Just an accident with one of the servants."

Cariston's eyes narrowed. "An accident, you say. Not how I heard it. Thought someone said your cousin had been murdered. Strangled, or something like that."

Strangled.

The word stopped him as he recalled the image of Nutley with his hand around Riley's throat.

But how could Cariston have known that or Riley's involvement...unless...

McElliott's word echoed like a warning.

Nutley had a reputation for doing a gentleman's less savory business.

He looked at Cariston again, this time trying to make sense of all of it. "Hardly anything as dramatic as

that," he told the man slowly. Perhaps the vultures from Fleet Street were already spreading wild tales and Cariston had just gotten the story from the usual ill-fed rumor mill.

"And your cousin?" Cariston persisted.

A chill ran down Mason's spine. "My cousin did witness the unfortunate accident, but it didn't frighten

her to anything near death. See for yourself. She is here visiting Lady Marlowe."

"Your cousin is here?"

Mason didn't miss the slight stumble in Cariston's usually elegant gait, or the tremor behind his question.

When the devil had the Marquess of Cariston begun caring about anything concerning Riley or the

Ashlins for that matter? Mason shot him a sideways glance, spying the tense set of the man's jaw.

"Yes," Mason said. "Your aunt was kind enough to invite my cousin over for tea-well, ratherdemanded her attendance. But you know your aunt."Cariston shrugged, as if he couldn't care less if his aunt chose to entertain a shipload of sailors or some Ashlin upstart relation, but Mason wasn't fooled a bit.

He hadn't taught first-year students all those years not to know when someone was feigning indifference-whether it was over a threatened expulsion or something more personal.Perhaps it wasn't his aunt's association with the Ashlins in general that had Cariston in a knot, he noted.But someone more specific.Riley.Mason shook off his misgivings-he was letting his dislike of the Marquess get the better of him.At the door, Cariston nodded brusquely to the butler. "Rogers.""My lord, your aunt is expecting you. Shall I announce you?" Rogers glanced over at Mason, his brow rising slightly. "Yes?"

"I am Lord Ashlin," he said, handing over his card. "I'm here to fetch my cousin. She is visiting with Lady Marlowe."

Rogers nodded and then led the way to the gallery where Riley and Lady Marlowe were surveying the

past Marlowe relations lining the hallway.

Lady Marlowe spied them first. "Cariston, you're late."

"My apologies, my lady," he said. "I was delayed by business."

The lady sniffed. "Always business with you young men." She peered at Mason. "Who is that with you?

Ashlin, isn't it?"Riley glanced up at this. She rushed to him, taking his hands and beaming up at him. "Mason, you'll neverguess the news."

Mason noticed Cariston had gone almost as white as his starched and spotless cravat.

"Allow me, Riley," Lady Marlowe said, "to tell Lord Ashlin and this no-account relation of mine our good fortune." The lady straightened, and in her most regal manner, announced, "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the Countess of Marlowe, my long lost granddaughter."

Riley, the Countess of Marlowe? What was the old girl talking about? Mason stared at the lady as if she had gone mad, and he noted, so did Cariston.

Then he caught a fleeting glimpse of murder flashing behind Cariston's shocked gaze before it was replaced by an exclamation of surprise.

The news, it seemed, wasn't quite the shock to the Marquess as it should have been.

For while Stephen Chevel, the Marquess of Cariston, Viscount Henley, Baron Walsby turned to his newfound cousin and shook her hand in a hearty greeting, he could hardly be thrilled with the prospect of surrendering his other illustrious title.

The Earl of Marlowe.

Chapter 20.

"C an you believe it?" Riley said. "I'm a Countess." She sighed and leaned back in the chair in Mason's study. She held her nose up in the air and waved her hand about in a perfect imitation of Lady Delander.

"Don't let it go to your head," he said, going over to the tray on the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. "You aren't a Countess yet."

"I know, but you heard my grandmother. She is still convinced there is some way to prove my mother's marriage was valid, and then I can make my claim." She sat up. "And my cousin, Lord Cariston, appeared more than willing to help with the matter, which is very kind of him. Grandmother says he rarely goes to Marlowe Manor and has never been overly attentive to the properties, so he probably won't mind in the least giving them back to me." She reached over and squeezed his arm. "I have a family. A grandmother and a cousin. It's like a dream come true."

Mason decided against voicing the suspicions that continued to nag at him. Rather, he broached the subject with some careful questioning. "Have you ever met Lord Cariston before?"

She shook her head. "No, but he seemed quite the gentleman, all things considered."

"Yes, quite the gentleman. Perhaps a little too much so," Mason muttered under his breath.

She eyed him. "What are you saying?"

"I met this afternoon with the Runner I hired and he told me Daniel Nutley was a known cutthroat."

She sniffed at this. "Well, yes, we could have surmised that ourselves without your Runner's esteemed opinion."

Mason ignored her barb, knowing she still hadn't forgiven him for firing her investigator without her leave. "McElliott believes Nutley was working for someone, someone in the ton."

Riley sat up on the edge of the leather seat. "Are you suggesting my cousin, a man I just met today, and who didn't know I existed until this afternoon, is behind my mishaps?" She waved her hand at him. "It is too ridiculous even to consider. From what my grandmother told me, Lord Cariston is extremely wealthy

without the Marlowe holdings. He'll barely miss the income."What could he say? She was correct on that point, but Mason couldn't shake his skepticism. He'dwager his life Cariston was behind the attempts on her life, and he wouldn't stop until he'd uncovered theidentity of Nutley's employer.

Yet how could Cariston have known that Riley was the Marlowe heiress when no one else had?

There had to be some explanation behind all of it, and he intended to get to the bottom of the matter before...before Cariston had time to find a replacement for Daniel Nutley.

"I just want you to use some caution for the time being. Until I find out who Nutley was working for, I

can't be sure you'll be safe." He tossed back his drink and settled into the seat behind his desk. "At least

now you can discontinue your work on the play."

"Why would I do that? We have an agreement. You're the one always nattering on about honor. Well, I intend to complete production of my play and see the girls properly married."

"I won't allow it, and neither will your grandmother."Riley cocked a brow. "You weren't opposed to my acting a few hours ago. Why is it different now?""It is most decidedly different.""Then I will ask my grandmother for the money I owe you." Riley crossed her arms over her chest.

"Surely you can't object to that. Enough to cover the vowels Mrs. Pindar holds." She eyed him. "Yes, I know all about that odious lady's blackmail. Well, you can send her and her solicitor packing." She paused and then frowned at him. "For a man who's been offered his salvation, you don't look overly pleased."

"I won't take Lady Marlowe's money.""And why not?""I don't need it.""But what about Mrs. Pindar? Maggie said her solicitor demanded-"He stared at her.She had the decency to blush. "I told her eavesdropping wasn't proper, but I know you are in a bind."