Free Alyssa Everett by A TrystWith Trouble Page A

cluttered dressing table, the bookshelves decked with girlish souvenirs. Now where would my sister hide letters from a blackmailer?
    I checked under her pillow, behind the clock on the mantel, and inside the stiff brocade costume of the doll she kept propped against the pillow on her bed. Nothing. Nor was there anything but a bit of paste jewelry in her jewelry case. When I knelt before her dressing table and pulled the drawers all the way out one by one, however, I discovered a small sheaf of letters stashed behind the bottom drawer.
    The first two letters were from Cliburne, leading me to fret I’d stumbled on nothing more than a stack of billets-doux. With a heroic effort of will, I managed to respect the lovers’ privacy and pass the letters by. Shuffling hurriedly through the stack, I discovered a message written in crude block letters.

    LADY HELEN
    I SAW YOU LAST NITE AND I KNOW WHAT HAPPINT IN BRYTEN. IF YOU DO NOT WANT LORD CLYBERN TO KNOW WHO YOU WERE WITH THEN LEEVE FIFTIE POUND BEHIND THE BOOKS ON THE TOP SHELF IN THE MENERVA PRESS SECTION OF HOOKAMS BY FIVE TUMORROE. TELL NO ONE OR ELSE.

    Hookham’s—precisely where John Mainsforth had seen Helen with Sam. The second message was much like the first.

    I KNOW YOU SAW HIM AGIN. LEEVE ANOTHER FIFTIE POUND IN THE SAME PLACE OR LORD CLYBERN WILL HEAR OF IT.

    There were two more in the same vein. I stared down at the threatening letters. Now that I’d found them, what was I to do with them? I supposed I could give them to Mr. Dawson, but I hesitated to go to Bow Street when I didn’t know how damaging Helen’s secret might be—and it looked to be very damaging indeed, for there was clearly a man involved. The same went for showing the letters to Papa, since there was no trusting his temper. I briefly considered confronting Helen, but if she was too frightened to speak out in Cliburne’s defense, I doubted she would tell me anything now.
    The only person with whom I could safely share the letters was Ben. He already knew Helen was being blackmailed, and he seemed every bit as determined as I was to learn the identity of Sam’s murderer. Ben might be the most irritating and self-satisfied young man I’d ever met, but there was no denying his air of capability. Working together, perhaps we could bring the real killer to justice.
    My heartbeat quickened. Yes, Ben was the very person I needed to see. Unfortunately, I could hardly write openly to a bachelor who wasn’t related to me. How was I to contact him?
    Mulling it over, I tucked the relevant letters inside the sash of my gown and was just sliding the dressing table drawer back into place when a scratch sounded on the open bedroom door. “Lady Barbara ...?”
    Startled, I looked up to discover our first footman. “Oh, hello, Frye.” I drew back from my handiwork with a blush.
    “Did you lose something, my lady?”
    I got to my feet, dusting off the knees of my gown. “Yes, I...I think one of the ear-drops I was wearing last night must have fallen off here in my sister’s room.”
    “I’ll help you find it—”
    “No, no, I just remembered where I must have dropped it. Was there something you wished to see me about?”
    He gave a tight, anxious nod. “Yes, my lady. I know I should go to Mr. Lewis, but I was hoping perhaps you might speak to him first, on account of you’ve always been so good to me, and he already says I’m clumsy.”
    Poor Frye. In his blue-and-gold livery and powdered wig, he wasn’t bad-looking—a footman had to present a certain appearance, after all—but he had such a gawky, socially maladroit way about him, he was never going to be popular with the ladies. Perhaps that was why I had a soft spot for him. I knew how painful it was to be overlooked by the opposite sex. “What is it?”
    “It’s about the linen cupboard in the butler’s pantry, my lady. When I was locking up last night, I discovered it’d been broken into. There’s nothing missing—I made sure—but