Daniel gave her one of his cards.
‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Mrs Bailey smiled as Daniel slipped a coin into her hand. ‘I expect it is just restless feet—you know how young men are, sir.’
Daniel agreed he did and left her. His enquiries in the village so far had been of some help, though he was troubled by what he had discovered. Marcus had certainly been at the inn for two hours on the afternoon of his death. The landlord said he was in a bad mood, and that he sat talking to a gentleman in the corner for an hour or more before the stranger left.
‘Did you know the man?’ Daniel asked.
‘No, sir. He was not local—but a gentleman, I would say. A surly cove. When one of my serving wenches went over to the table and asked if they wanted more wine he told her to stay away, for their talk was private.’
‘Is the girl here, landlord?’
‘No, sir, more’s the pity. Molly was a good worker. She went off the day after your cousin was killed—and never even told her mother where she was going. She’s not the first, but I didn’t think Molly was the flighty sort. There have been others go off, some would say gone missing, but I reckon they went to London to make their fortune—if you understand me. Still, Molly were a quiet girl and I thought she had a local lad.’
‘If you should hear anything you think might interest me, please send me word.’ Daniel gave him his calling card and two guineas for his trouble.
‘Yes, sir. I will let you know if Molly comes back.’ The landlord was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Does the name Cheadle mean anything to you, sir?’
‘Yes, it does—why?’ Daniel’s gaze narrowed intently.
‘The name was mentioned between them, sir. Molly heard them arguing—and your cousin said, “I can’t ask Cheadle to wait for ever.” The other man said, “Cheadle is dangerous. If you cross him, you may regret it, but he is a poodle compared to you know who…” I don’t know if that is useful, sir?’
‘It may be,’ Daniel said and frowned as he nodded to the landlord and gave him another guinea. ‘Thank you. Please contact me if you remember more.’
‘You may be certain I shall, sir.’ The landlord pocketed the money and smiled to himself.
There Daniel had left his investigations for the moment. He thought he might have to employ the ser vices of an investigative agent to search for Molly and Jed Bailey. It was strange that two young people had gone off without a word—unless they had run off together?
His thoughts were busy after his brief meeting with Miss Eliza Bancroft. The pieces had been all jumbled up at the start, but they seemed to be coming together in his mind. He was reaching for something, but was not quite there.
He was determined to discover more about his cousin’s death, because he was almost certain now that Marcus had been murdered. The horse had been left outside the inn for some time and it was perfectly possible that someone had tampered with the saddle while it was there.
So the opportunity was obvious, and the likely suspect the man Marcus had been arguing with in the inn—but where was the motive?
It was after meeting Miss Bancroft that Daniel suddenly remembered that both his uncle and the landlord had spoken of other young local women going missing. Could the disappearance of these girls and his cousin’s death be linked? It hardly seemed likely and yet Marcus had hinted at something dark and sinister in his letter.
It would bear investigation, even though the truth might be hard to swallow. Drinking, gambling and tumbling the local girls were things that many young gentlemen indulged in—but snatching girls from their homes was quite another. Daniel had no illusions about what happened to the young girls; they would be taken either to whorehouses or, even worse, sent abroad to be sold into the harems of rich potentates.
No, surely Marcus would never become involved in something like that—or had he been drawn into it innocently and then felt trapped? Daniel knew that his cousin had had a wild side, but he did not think him evil. Perhaps he had not known what was going on—and when he had found out he threatened to expose those behind it?
Daniel felt cold. He had no proof whatsoever, but he believed he might have stumbled on a clue.
He was not sure what part the Marquis of Cheadle might have played in this shady business. His name had been mentioned between Marcus and the stranger—but whether he was actually involved with the snatching of local girls was dubious. Daniel would not have thought it—but then, he would not have expected his cousin to become involved in such a disgusting traffic.
The marquis would bear watching. Daniel had been inclined to send back the ring he had won from him to Cheadle’s London address, but now thought he would hang on to it. There was an inscription inside it that must be called romantic and therefore it might have some significance to the marquis. Perhaps it might be used as a bargaining tool, for if Cheadle knew something of this murky business he would not disclose it without persuasion.
Having settled the business in his mind, Daniel let his thoughts stray once more to the lovely Miss Eliza Bancroft. He was not sure why she had lingered in his mind. There were other more beautiful girls of his acquaintance who would not be averse to some attention from him, but most of them left him cold. Miss Bancroft interested him.
He would have liked to get to know her better while he was here, but his present situation was not conducive to any kind of relationship with a decent young woman. Had things been otherwise, he might have stayed longer with his uncle and found excuses to indulge in some light dalliance with the young lady—not that she would have permitted more than a kiss or two. He had no doubt that she was chaste, hence the delicious blush he had noticed on earlier occasions.
He would not go out of his way to seek another meeting with her, Daniel decided, though he could not pretend that he was not intrigued.
No, he must not let his purpose wander! He must seek another meeting with Cheadle at the earliest opportunity and ask him what he knew of Marcus’s affairs. If Cheadle lied, Daniel would know—and then he would leave no stone unturned to bring down all those responsible for his cousin’s death.
‘You asked me to call?’ Henry, Marquis of Cheadle, looked at the woman sitting so calmly in her boudoir. In her lilac-lace peignoir and a fetching cap she was as beautiful as she had been years ago when he had fallen madly in love with her. He had not seen her for some years, because she had lived quietly in the country, seldom visiting London or Bath, but it seemed that she intended to make a change now that she was a widow. ‘I was sorry to hear about the death of your husband, Sarah. Manners was no friend of mine but I dare say you will miss him?’
‘You know my feelings about Lord Manners,’ Sarah, Lady Manners, replied, only a tiny pulse in her throat giving a hint of the emotion she was keeping in check. ‘I stayed with him because of my son, and for no other reason.’
‘You were a fool, Sarah. You should have called his bluff—how often do you see Howard now?’
‘Very rarely,’ she admitted and sighed deeply. ‘My son is exactly like his father. I have seen him once since he inherited the estate. We quarrelled after his father’s death and he declines to visit me. Besides, I choose to live in the country and he prefers London.’
‘Where he squanders the fortune he inherited. You should speak to him, Sarah. If he continues as he is, he will come unstuck and lose everything.’
‘Howard takes no notice of anything I say.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘You know what I want, my lord. You have always known. My health is not good. Soon it will be too late for me to get to know our child…’
‘I’ve told you before, I do not know where the child is now, Sarah. I promised that I would make no attempt to find the babe and I have kept my word. The lawyer saw to everything. I merely paid for the arrangements, as your husband demanded in settlement of his terms. I have never known the name of the people to whom the lawyer gave our child. Had I not agreed to his terms, Manners