by Karen Lynne
Walter purchased his ticket and entered the theater, mingling with the crowd. Spirits were being consumed, and Walter couldn’t imagine how this crowd would be by the end of the night. He found his seat, settling himself into the red velvet chair near the back rows. Waiting for the performance to begin as raucous laughter echoed around him, his thoughts wandering to Patience.
What would she think of his being here, attending a performance? He determined to shelter her from the knowledge. She had already been through too much with her escapades in London. His eyes clouded over as he realized he had no right to be her protector, though everything in him longed for it to be different.
The performance began and Walter felt heat rise to his cheeks. He finally averted his eyes as the inappropriateness of the show sank in. He tried to cool his anger at Daniel and his affection for such raucous entertainment.
He brought his attention back as Miss Fox entered the stage, dressed in a low-cut gown. Walter shook his head, amazed at his brother’s attraction to her.
Some of her words didn’t sound right to him. She had been careless, as if Daniel had only been an escape to a better life and nothing more. But he’d read over her letters. It had dripped with longing, imploring Daniel to see her again. Either she had been lying about their relationship… or she’d been lying to Daniel.
Walter took one look at the curved smile on her lips and drew his own conclusions: she had been acting. Whatever love Daniel thought she had for him was just for show. Likely the moment she realized he couldn’t marry her, she ceased caring for him.
He couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Standing, he pushed his way past drunken men and found himself in the foyer where more gentlemen gathered, smoking and laughing.
He wondered, had Patience come any closer to discovering why her mother was so opposed to him? He instantly berated himself. It wouldn’t matter if she did. He wouldn’t be asking for her parents’ blessing a second time. His family came first, and the best way to take care of his family was to marry a wealthy woman.
He hated the idea of finding a partner he would not be attracted to. Even the thought of falling in love with another woman was abhorrent to him. No matter who he ended up marrying, he would always love Patience. I should let her know that.
Applause sounded from inside the theater, bringing him out of his musings. The doors opened, and swaying men spilled out. Their ruckus deepened the more crowded the lobby became.
Walter clutched the wilting flowers to his side and made his way down the corridor leading to the dressing rooms. He knew he would not be lucky enough to get another audience with Miss Fox, but if he could observe her and get a feel for the company that surrounded her, he knew he would find at least something to piece together.
He found the dressing rooms and pressed himself against the wall as patrons and actors alike poured from the theater hall. Walter spotted the black ringlets of Miss Fox while nudging closer, keeping out of sight. She was laughing with whom he could only assume were her admirers—well-dressed gentlemen loomed over her like she was a possession, their eyes straying unabashedly from her face.
One man caught his attention, and Walter stilled, his eyes widening. He recognized the protruding belly, flabby face, and small black eyes of Silas Pincock, the Baron of Danbury. Lord Danbury often frequented the House of Commons, where he’d seen him with Mr. Bamber. The two made a perfect pair.
He hadn’t liked the man. Lord Danbury was loud and eccentric, but it surprised Walter to see him here. He kept back as he watched Lord Danbury dip his head, talking directly into Miss Fox’s ear. She winced away, then nodded her head toward her dressing room. The two of them disappeared inside alone. Walter’s heart rate increased as he suspected this was not a coincidence with too many connections—to him. His heart sank. Could the baron have something to do with Daniel? What could this mean?
A man next to the pair groaned, outwardly displaying his displeasure that only Lord Danbury enjoyed the company of Miss Fox this evening.
Another man scoffed, “They say money can’t buy happiness… I would be happy to have an hour alone with Miss Fox any day!”
Walter scowled.
Eventually, the crowd cleared as it became clear Miss Fox would not be emerging from her dressing room soon.
Alone, his stomach churning, Walter approached the dressing room door, leaning his ear against the wall, hoping to catch something—anything—that would give him a hint as to what Lord Danbury and Miss Fox were discussing.
The hall still echoed with loud laughter, and he found it difficult to hear anything. He knew Lord Danbury couldn’t stay quiet for long. The longer one conversed with him, the louder his voice became.
Walter stood beside the door, his mangled flowers still clutched in his hand. He strained to listen, filtering out the background noise. He was rewarded when Lord Danbury’s voice increased.
“His brother, eh?”
Walter strained to hear more. He caught a word. It could have been carriage. It could have been marriage.
“What’s this here then?” an annoyed voice said from beside Walter.
Walter startled, turning to face a man smoking a cigar, his coat tails covered in flecks of ash.
“Waiting for a chance with the miss?”
Walter shook his head. “No, no.”
The man’s eyes fell to the flowers.
Walter cleared his throat. “I was sent… by my brother. To give these to her, but she seems otherwise engaged.”
“I’ll say,” the man said, blowing smoke into Walter’s face. “Lord Pinprick or what’s his name is always meddling around here. You’d think he’d give another bloke a chance.”
Walter raised his brows. “Excuse me?”
The man shook his head, sighing. “Forget it. Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
Walter hesitated. “It… wasn’t my cup of tea.”
The man laughed, loud and obnoxious. “You don’t say? Them gals got ya blushing, then?”
Walter needed to leave.
Lord Danbury’s voice grew louder, and the man who’d interrupted inched toward the door.
“Not a word, Miss Fox. It’s our little secret.”
Walter moved past the smoking man. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, moving away before the couple emerged.
He moved down the dingy hall, dropping the limp flowers in the bin before stepping through an exit. The cool night air welcome against his face. The actress and baron knew each other.
Chapter 12
Back in his flat, Walter paced the room, mulling over Miss Fox and her connection to Lord Danbury. Walter still only had a suspicion. The things he overheard were only snippets, and though he could connect the pieces, he needed solid evidence and questions answered. It made no sense. Could Lord Danbury be involved in Daniel’s death? The man was a peer.
He never liked the Baron. For similar reasons, he didn’t care for Mr. Bamber. They were both snide and thought only to further their own ambitions and were contemptuous of anyone beneath them.
Walter sat on his bed, planting his face in his hands. Had he known his brother had fallen so far, he would have dropped everything to help him. He would have gone over the finances with Daniel, actively searched for a suitable wife, gotten him away from the brashness of the company he’d kept.
Walter’s thoughts wandered back to Mr. Bamber. His fists tightened in frustration. The man was in a pinch with the council because he had botched up a handful of cases over the past year. He likely wanted the Vanderbilt case to re-establish his credibility. But did he have other reasons? Walter thought about Mr. Bamber. He didn’t know much about the man or his background. He didn’t even know if Mr. Bamber had a wife or children.
He stood, forming a plan. He would go to the Court House tomorrow and see how deeply Lord Danbury was entrenched in the political atmosphere. Walter didn’t know if there was a connection, but something in the report of the Vanderbilt case caused his senses to ping. He needed information as
to Mr. Bamber and his connections. Perhaps he could glean additional information about the association with Lord Danbury.
He had planned to leave for Wallingford that evening.
Satisfied, he undressed, his mind reverting to Patience. He lingered on the image of her face, not having the heart to wish it away. Not after everything he’d witnessed tonight. He needed some comfort.
Mr. Welch swiped at his face, letting out a breath as he stared down at his notes. “Mr. Vanderbilt was arrested after a gentleman of importance staying at his inn was found murdered. Stabbed to death. Do you remember what led to the arrest?”
Walter straightened in his chair, reviewing the details he had studied since taking the case. “There was blood on his clothing, tucked under his bed.”
“Good man. And what have you found out about Mr. Vanderbilt’s defense?”
Walter cleared his throat. “Mr. Vanderbilt had an alibi. He was checking out two guests at the time of the murder. There is no clear motive. It appears the poor devil may have been framed.”
Mr. Welch nodded. “After looking into the victim’s history, we’ve discovered he had a problem with opium. He may have been killed after cheating his suppliers out of their money.”
“Right. He often frequented the Blue Lotus.”
“And the men there are known to be rough.” Mr. Welch sat back in his seat, nodding. “I think you have something here, Mr. Longman. Mr. Vanderbilt will be out of prison as soon as we prove his innocence. But we need to find out who killed the heir presumptive, Viscount of Highfield. The crown wants this solved, and they will not let this go without solid proof of guilt placed elsewhere.” His gaze locked on Walter. “The trial is scheduled this time next week.”
Walter nodded. His heart felt like it shot up into his throat. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.” This didn’t give him enough time in Wallingford to find answers to some questions nagging him about Daniel’s murder. But he was grateful his mentor listened to his suspicions. Walter knew other men would not have been as confident in his abilities.
Mr. Welch nodded in satisfaction.
Walter hesitated, then leaned forward, lowering his voice. “What can you tell me about Mr. Bamber?”
Mr. Welch snorted, fishing for his pipe. “What do you want to know?”
“Who is he acquainted with?”
“An odd question, Mr. Longman.” Mr. Welch leaned back, struck a flint before lighting his pipe, holding it between his teeth. “He’s commonly found among the elite, I believe. They like to have talented lawyers in their pockets.” He winked.
Walter frowned. “And why would that be?”
Mr. Welch shrugged. “When you’re wealthy, things can get out of hand, and before you know it, a law’s been broken and their reputation is on the line.”
“Is Lord Danbury the type to break the law?” Walter asked.
Mr. Welch laughed. “The Baron? No, I don’t believe so. The poor man can be eccentric, but who can blame him? He’s lost three wives in his lifetime. That could make any man a bit odd.”
Walter jolted at this additional information. “Three wives, that seems excessive. What happened to them?”
“I don’t know the details. I just know the jokes floating around town.” The head barrister smiled. “Word is he’s looking for a fourth wife. Only thing is, all the ladies think he’s jinxed with bad luck. The mommas don’t want their daughters to be the next unlucky wife, no matter how much blunt he has.”
Mr. Welch laughed, and Walter forced a smile, but his head was spinning, absorbing all the information. “Who else does Mr. Bamber spend his time with?”
Mr. Welch narrowed his eyes. “Why such an interest in the man?”
“He seems to be vying for my position on our current case,” Walter said. “I just want to know who I’m up against.”
Mr. Welch puffed on his pipe for a moment, his face growing sober. He looked to the closed office door, then at Walter. Removing the pipe from his mouth, he leaned forward, lowering his voice.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this…. But you have the right to know.”
Walter’s ears pricked at the secrecy in Mr. Welch’s voice as his hands clenched in his lap.
“Mr. Bamber has been presenting the council with arguments of his own about the Vanderbilt case. He’s not being paid, but he’s looking more and more appealing. It’s a good thing you’ll be back for the first trial, because if you weren’t, the position would have gone to him.”
Walter’s brows knit together. “Why does he want this case so badly?”
“Well…” Mr. Welch’s voice dipped lower. “He’s been on the wrong side of one too many cases, as you know. But more than that… if he had won this case, he would have been promoted as head barrister.”
Walter cocked his head. “But you’re head barrister in this council.”
Mr. Welch licked his lips. “I’m retiring after this case.”
Walter’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know.”
“I haven’t told many people. I’m not sure how Mr. Bamber found out. But he’s next in seniority, so it makes sense he’d replace me. He’s just had so many mess-ups that the council is open to promoting someone else.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it will be you as head barrister, depending on your upcoming performance. You’ve proven to be effective in your occupation thus far.”
Things began to fall into place. Of course Mr. Bamber was upset that Walter had gotten the case. If Mr. Bamber didn’t get the promotion, it wasn’t likely he would get it for another several years, if ever. He would be stuck where he was until he retired, making half what he could be making as head barrister.
But if Walter made head barrister—a rush of adrenaline hit him at the prospect. He could easily pay off his debts. He could ask Patience to be his wife.
Hope blossomed in Walter until it turned into a flame. Now, more than ever, he had to win this case.
“I must leave you now, sir.” His voice wavered as he stood. “I’ve got a few things to sort before returning to Wallingford.”
“Very good, son. We’ll get cracking on that case when you return.”
Walter left the office and nearly ran outside. He turned toward the library, determined to find more information on Lord Danbury and his wives.
Rounding a corner, he almost rammed into the man himself.
Lord Danbury blinked, assessing Walter.
“Mr. Longman?” he sputtered. “May I offer my deepest condolences? I saw the tragedy in the paper, and Mr. Bamber was so kind as to provide me with the details.”
Walter kept his features expressionless.
“Thank you,” he said, stepping aside, moving past Lord Danbury.
“I’m surprised you’ve returned to London so soon.” The baron’s voice rose, causing Walter to halt. “I expect you are still grieving.”
Walter turned, facing the gentleman. “Yes, I am. I’m well despite my family’s loss, thank you. I have an important case that necessitated my return.”
Lord Danbury’s small eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes. Mr. Bamber has told me about it.” The large man approached Walter, setting a heavy hand on his shoulder. He leaned in. His voice low. “Mr. Bamber has friends in high places.” He breathed a puff of tobacco-filled air in Walter’s face. “They would all like to see him take on this case. They’d like to see someone… more qualified. Someone who isn’t distracted with grief.”
Walter held Lord Danbury’s eyes. He could not misunderstand the menacing tinge in his expression. He opened his mouth to confirm before the baron continued.
“If I were you, I’d return home and take care of that sweet mother and sister of yours,” he paused. “Oh, yes, and Miss Hawthorn is your neighbor, correct? A lovely girl. I’d hate for any kind of harm to come to her.”
Walter’s blood chilled at the implication. Backing away, he bowed. “Good day, Lord Danbury.”
The gentleman dipped his hat and proceeded on his way.
Walter picked up his pace as he hurried
to the library. He had just been threatened. The baron had his reasons for wanting him off the case. An innocent man didn’t threaten. His gut told him Lord Danbury was involved with his brother's murder or knew something about it. He entered the library and checked in with the attendant.
Moving to the vault, he pulled out all the pertinent records he could find on Lord Danbury. Setting at a table, he took notes as he poured over newspapers, gleaning any information he could find.
The death of his third wife was two years ago. The late Lady Danbury had grown suddenly ill and passed away from an unknown sickness.
Walter frowned, looking over the news from the weeks leading up to and following her death. He found an article claiming Lord Danbury had inherited the rest of her assets after her passing, increasing his fortune considerably.
Walter continued reading as a shudder ran through his body. Each one of Lord Danbury’s wives had died from some unknown illness, all with the same symptoms. All but the first Lady Danbury. She had fallen from a cliff into the sea while they were away on holiday.
Walter’s fingers grew icy. Everyone knew Lord Danbury was eccentric and a bit of a lady’s man, but no one could ever suspect…
He stared at the drawings of each wife—young, from wealthy families. His stomach lurched as his suspicions rose. Lord Danbury could have killed each of his wives to increase his fortune. It seemed unlikely they would have all died so young. Two of illness and one by an accident. If it was truly an accident. If Lord Danbury wasn’t afraid to take a life, even that of a lifelong companion, what else was he capable of?
A lovely girl, Lord Danbury’s words hit him like a battering ram. I’d hate for any kind of harm to come to her.
Patience.
Walter put the papers back into the archive and hurried from the library. His only thoughts were of Patience and her safety.
Chapter 13
Patience couldn’t sit idly by, doing nothing, while Walter was in London. Had he any new clues as to the carriage accident? The waiting was torture. She wished to help solve the murder. She determined to investigate the new groom and maid’s past, if only to give her something useful to do while she awaited Walter’s return. She and Henrietta used to be friends. It was time she made a call and offer her condolences. She hadn’t been to the estate since her parents refused Walter.