Page 67 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

Both the Douglases stiffened, and Verity suspected they would have liked to refuse anything from a Dunbridge. But then the woman sagged, leaning against her husband, and Mr. Douglas sighed and said, “Come in, then.” He looked across the entryway to the servant who still hovered there. The servant’s expression was placid, but Verity had spent enough time pretending to be a maid in Lady Lockwood’s household that she knew there would be much gossip in the staff’s quarters tonight. “Bring us a pot of tea and send Cummings to us.”

Mr. Douglas ushered Nathan and Verity into the drawing room and gestured toward a sofa. “What is it you want to know?”

“Where exactly was your son taken, Mr. Douglas?”

“In Delbourne, Cummings said. Malcolm was on his way to London.”

“I knew he should never have gone to London,” Mrs. Douglas put in bitterly.

“He was going to visit his uncle?” Nathan asked. At the other couple’s surprised looks, he added, “We talked to Mr. Robert Douglas after the imposter came to me with his claim.”

“And Robert said that was Malcolm?” Douglas asked in amazement. “He didn’t set you straight?”

“He never saw the man, and we didn’t ask him about the claims the man made. It was rather a delicate subject, you see. We merely wanted to find out if he knew Malcolm. He told us that he hadn’t seen Malcolm, but he assumed it was simply because his nephew was a young man who wanted to see London without an uncle hanging about.”

Flora snorted. “He would think that. I knew he wouldn’t look after Malcolm properly.”

Her husband smiled at her indulgently. “Malcolm is thirty-four, my dear, hardly a child. He’s been on his own for some time.”

“Yes, but he was in Edinburgh then,” Flora retorted. “Look what happened as soon as he left Scotland.”

A man walked into the room and said diffidently, “Sir, you wished to see me?”

“Ah, Cummings. Yes.” Mr. Douglas turned to Nathan and Verity. “Cummings is Malcolm’s valet. He was traveling with Malcolm when he was abducted.” He looked back at the valet. “Tell them what happened, Cummings.”

“Yes, sir. Master Malcolm and I took the Great Road. We spent the night in Delbourne—that’s a village just before Stevenage. It was going to be our last stop before the city. And then...” He swallowed. “The next morning Master Malcolm walked down the road a bit, just to stretch his legs, you see, as he gets restless in the coach. I took his things to the carriage and when I turned back and looked for him, I saw these...these two scoundrels jump out and grab him.” He looked over at Mr. Douglas and said earnestly, “There was nothing I could do, sir. I tried—”

“Yes, yes, Cummings, we understand. I know you wanted to help him.”

The valet swung back to face Nathan. “There were two of them, and they were so quick. They knocked him over the head and threw him into a carriage, then took off. I shouted at them to stop and ran after them. By the time I got back to our coach, they were nowhere in sight. We followed, but when we reached Stevenage, well, there was no way to know where they’d gone. We didn’t know what else to do, so we came back.” Cummings sent Mr. Douglas another apologetic glance. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“I know. No one blames you, Cummings,” Douglas said. His kind words raised him a little in Verity’s view.

“Where exactly did these men come at him?” Nathan asked.

The valet stopped and cast his eyes up, thinking. “They charged out from a hedge at the edge of the village, just past the tavern on the right. Um, the Bull and Bear, I think? Or maybe that was the one by our inn. The Green Lion?”

“That’s fine. As long as it’s the last tavern going toward Stevenage, I’m sure we can find it.”

Nathan turned to the Douglases as the servant slipped out of the room. “We’ll inquire in that village and do whatever we can to find Malcolm. I think our best hope will lie in finding the man who is impersonating him.” He cast a glance at Verity, perhaps remembering that she was the detective, but she merely nodded. Normally, with Sloane or some other man she would feel the need to wrest control of the investigation back. But it was nice seeing Nathan work—he really did have a head for this.

“Mrs. Douglas,” Verity spoke up, “it would help us a good deal if you had a likeness of Malcolm that we could show people when we inquire about him. Perhaps you have a small portrait of him?”

The other woman closed her hand protectively on the locket she wore around her neck. “I...” She cast a pained look at her husband. “No. John...”

“I promise we will give it back to you when we find him,” Nathan told her, and apparently the woman could see past his father’s name enough to recognize the honesty in Nathan’s face.

Flora took in a short breath and lifted the chain over her head. She rubbed her thumb over it once, then handed it to Nathan. He and Verity made their brief farewells and exited the room quickly.

Verity was surprised to see the butler standing by the door, a basket in his hands. He held it out to them, saying, “Here’s a bit of food for the road. We hope and pray you will find the young master.”

There was a glimmer of moisture in his eyes, and it touched Verity. The true Malcolm must be a decent sort for the servants to truly care. She took the basket from his hands and hooked it over her arm. “We will do our best. Thank you.”

Outside Nathan draped the locket around Verity’s neck, then took the basket and opened the carriage door, giving her a hand into the vehicle. It struck Verity that this was another thing that ruffled her feathers with other men, but she didn’t mind when Nathan did it. It was simply a part of Nathan’s good nature. Or maybe I have changed, she thought.

It made her a little uneasy to think that Nathan might have such influence over her, so she started to talk about business as soon as Nathan sat down beside her. “I knew there was something off about him. I should have thought of the possibility that he was impersonating Malcolm Douglas.”

“I don’t see how you could have figured that out,” Nathan replied. “We’d never seen the real Malcolm.”