by C. J. Archer
Lord Farnsworth's Adam's apple bobbed above the collar of his housecoat. "And what might those things be?" His eyes sharpened, no longer hidden behind lazy, hooded lids, and his lips no longer curved into that perennial, good-natured smile. The mask was slipping. He was worried.
"Angelique says you sent her to bribe the editor of The Daily Courier to learn the name of the peer mentioned in the gossip piece," Matt said.
I watched Lord Farnsworth carefully to gauge his reaction to our lie. He seemed surprised and perhaps annoyed. A muscle in his jaw bunched momentarily before flattening again. His eyes resumed their lazy heaviness and his jaw slackened.
"I wonder why she said that," he drawled. "I didn't send her anywhere. The theft of the coronet is nothing to do with me. Besides, was the theft Monday night? I was with Angelique all night."
"She didn't mention it."
The creases at the corners of Lord Farnsworth's eyes deepened ever so slightly.
"Why would she lie?" Matt pressed.
"I don't know."
A moment passed, two, three, in which Matt and Lord Farnsworth glared at one another. His lordship seemed to be considering his options, contemplating what to say. Now that I knew him to be smarter than he let on, I could tell he was trying to work through the different scenarios before him, as I often did.
"Did you pay her to say such a thing?" he asked.
"I tried to pay her," Matt said, "but she wouldn't accept it."
"She's still loyal to you," I said. "She's in love with you."
Lord Farnsworth barked a laugh. "No, she's not, or she wouldn't have claimed I sent her to bribe the newspaperman. Or is that just something you made up to get me to talk?" His gaze slid to me.
I remained calm, composed, but it wasn’t easy when my heart hammered violently.
Lord Farnsworth lifted a hand in a dismissive flourish. "I'm not in love with her either, in case you were wondering. Loyalty and love are not the same thing. Be careful not to confuse the two, Mrs. Glass. Ah, my chocolate," he announced as the butler brought in a tray.
He set it down and retreated upon Lord Farnsworth's dismissal. Lord Farnsworth poured the tea himself and handed me a cup and saucer. He didn't immediately let it go.
"You're right, I lied about Angelique not knowing my future plans for matrimony. I'm sorry, Mrs. Glass. I don't like discussing personal matters." He let go of the saucer. "Back to your rather tenuous claim that Angelique says I sent her to bribe a newspaperman on my behalf…consider how she looks. She's very distinctive, wouldn't you say?"
"There are disguises," Matt said.
"Do you think a disguise could obscure a jewel like Angelique?" When we didn't answer, he added, "Search this place. Top to bottom. I'll inform the staff to allow you access. You won't find the coronet because I didn't steal it. Nor did I send my mistress to steal it on my behalf." He smiled. His lethargic tone had returned, along with the indolent gaze. He wasn't concerned in the least.
That made me even more suspicious.
But I could see no way forward. My plan, to let Lord Farnsworth think Angelique had told us everything in the hope he would confess, wasn't working. Unless Matt thought of something, we would have to admit defeat. That galled me. Lord Farnsworth deserved to squirm a little.
Matt rose and I set the teacup down. Lord Farnsworth smiled at me as I stood too.
He picked up his cup of chocolate. "No search? Is that because you realize that I didn't do it and I didn't get Angelique to do it either? We're innocent, Glass. Both of us. Now kindly leave her alone. She had a difficult life before coming to England and just wants to be left in peace. Unless you know of a good chap to take her off my hands, I must ask that you not see her again. Good day. My butler will see you to the door."
I marched out of the house, my steps brisk. "The more I get to know him, the more I dislike him," I said. "He's guilty. I'm sure of it."
Matt's face looked like thunder as he assisted me into our carriage. "As am I. And I'm going to prove it."
"How?"
"By confronting the Tattersalls attendants. Coyle was right. Farnsworth must have bribed them to lie to me. He knew I'd ask around about him that day so he conjured up an alibi. Woodall," he said to the coachman. "We'll take Mrs. Glass home then drive to Tattersalls."
Matt didn't enter the house after driving me home, so he didn't see that we had guests. Lord Cox and Patience sat with Aunt Letitia in the drawing room. Aunt Letitia was as pale as a summer cloud and her vacant gaze stared into space.
"Aunt Letitia?" I asked. "Are you all right?"
"Oh dear," said Patience. "I'm afraid we've upset her."
"Veronica?" Aunt Letitia reached out a hand to me as I sat beside her. "Veronica, take me to my room, please. I feel a little faint."
Lord Cox helped me take her upstairs to her bedchamber. He looked concerned as he gently eased her onto the bed.
I sent Peter to fetch Polly and sat with Aunt Letitia until she arrived. Then I returned with Lord Cox to the drawing room and a pacing Patience.
She raced to me and grasped my hands in hers. "India, I'm so sorry. I thought she was better."
"She still has a turn from time to time," I said. "Usually when she's had a shock or something upsets her."
"Oh dear. I'm afraid it was probably both." She looked to her husband. "We told her about Mr. Longmire."
“She had to find out eventually, I suppose.”
I asked them to sit and poured myself a cup of tea. They already had a cup each, and a slice of cake. I took a long sip to gather my wits. It had already been a tiring morning and threatened to be a very long day.
"We came to speak to you and your husband," Lord Cox said, glancing at the door. "Do you expect him soon?"
"I'm afraid he didn't know you were here. He dropped me off then left. We didn't see your carriage."
"We caught a hack," Patience said with forced cheerfulness. "We think it wise to start economizing."
My teacup suddenly felt heavy and I almost dropped it. It clattered into the saucer, spilling tea over the sides. "What has happened?" I asked on a rush of breath.
Lord Cox swallowed. "My lawyer says the case is hopeless. Longmire has proof. Nothing can be done." He picked up his teacup, the picture of a dandy gentleman, but he was as white as Aunt Letitia.
"What if you offer Mr. Longmire more money to forget it?" I asked.
"I have offered him everything short of the title and lands. He has refused it. He wants everything, Mrs. Glass, and nothing less." He stared down into the tea. "One can hardly blame him. If I were in his shoes, I'd want what was mine too."
Patience touched her husband's arm. She looked close to tears as she regarded the man she'd married. Mere weeks ago, he'd been proud and aloof. Almost too proud and aloof to marry the woman he loved because of her past indiscretion. Now he was the one whose reputation hung by a thread. It was somewhat poetic, and I ought to rejoice that he was getting a taste of his own medicine, but it felt awful to enjoy his misfortune. Despite his cool attitude to Patience after learning of her encounter with a rogue, he didn't deserve this. This was simply awful.
"We'll fight it in court," Patience said.
Lord Cox shook his head. "No, we won't."
"But—"
"My dear." He turned to face her. I suspected this was the first time they'd truly sat down together and discussed the disaster and what to do about it. "My dear," he said, more gently, "I've known this day would come for years. Ever since I found out, I've been waiting for Longmire to discover it too. Somehow, I knew he would. It's almost a relief that the wait is finally over."
"What are you saying?" she hedged.
"When I received Longmire's letter, it felt like my world had come crashing down. I thought this was it. I should end it all."
Patience gasped.
"I'd let you down, and my children. I didn't know how to face you all."
Tears slipped down Patience's cheeks. "Don't talk like that. You haven't let
anyone down, least of all me. We will get through this."
He patted her hand, his face tight. I suspected he was close to tears himself and might break down if he spoke.
"Whatever happens," Patience forged on, "I will love you. Your children will love you. That is all that matters."
"But if I am no longer a baron…what will I be?"
"A dedicated man who always did the best for his tenants. A considerate son who protected his father's secret and his mother's heart. A wonderful, doting father who continued to keep that secret for the sake of his children. A loving husband who has been forgiving and indulgent. No one can fault you, and if anyone does after this, shame on them. But be assured, your true friends will come to your defense."
He caressed her cheek and whispered, "Thank you."
"It won't be easy," she said. "But I will be by your side every day. We'll face the world together."
He pressed his forehead to hers and gave her a weak smile. She kissed him lightly on the lips. When she withdrew, they both seemed to remember where they were, and that I was watching on, albeit pretending the magazine on the table beside me was thoroughly interesting.
Lord Cox cleared his throat. "I'll speak to my lawyer. I don't want this dragged through the courts. It will only upset the children and the outcome is inevitable anyway."
Patience clasped his hand. "If Mr. Longmire covets the title and estate so much, let him have it. He will always be a nasty man with a shriveled heart. He will have what he covets but he will never have what you have, my dearest. He will never have people who love and respect him."
According to Matt, the two Tattersalls attendants who'd mentioned seeing Lord Farnsworth at the auction on the previous Monday did not change their stories.
"Farnsworth is a good client," he said as we ate a light luncheon of sandwiches in the sitting room. "Too good. They'll lie for him if it keeps him happy. Damn it," he muttered.
"Perhaps they’re not lying," I said. "Perhaps he really did send Angelique to the newspaper office in disguise while he remained at Tattersalls. It's true that she is distinctive, but a hooded cloak will hide her face and hair."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Have you seen Willie?"
"Not today."
"I'll ask her to question Angelique some more. She might be able to get answers that we couldn't."
I set down my sandwich, not particularly hungry anymore. I'd told Matt about the visit from Lord Cox and Patience, but it still played on my mind. Lord Cox looked so vulnerable, so distressed. Patience had surprised me, however. She'd become her husband's anchor in an increasingly turbulent sea.
"I don't know if I see the point in pursuing the thief anymore," I said on a sigh. "The coronet is going to Longmire, along with the title and everything else. Perhaps we should just give up."
"I'm not giving up."
"You don't like letting Farnsworth win, do you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
I smirked. "I just know you well."
He put down his sandwich too. "I don't like that he duped me. I also don't like that Cox's maid is getting the blame. He hasn't dismissed her because he doesn't believe she did it, but that fool of a detective inspector thinks she did and might arrest her anyway."
"Thankfully he hasn't found any evidence against her," I said. At his questioning look, I added, "So Lord Cox informed me. But you're right. Doubts about her will continue unless the real thief is uncovered. So what do we do now?"
The answer arrived after lunch in the form of Cyclops. We met him on the pavement where he stood with the horses and Lord Farnsworth's carriage.
"Any chance there's leftovers from lunch?" he asked Bristow who stood at the top of the steps.
"Lunch consisted of sandwiches, sir," Bristow said. "I'll check with Mrs. Potter to see if there are any left."
Cyclops pouted. "I hoped for more than sandwiches."
"I can ask her to make up a parcel of biscuits."
Cyclops rubbed his hands together and smiled. "That'll keep me going for the rest of the day." After Bristow disappeared inside, Cyclops said to us, "Farnsworth's cook ain't a patch on Mrs. Potter. Do you know what she's cooking for dinner tonight?"
"Roast chicken, game pie, followed by pastries, a trio of jellies and creams," I said. "I thought she was cooking a special meal just for us, but now I recall her asking when you'd be back."
"You can count on me being here for dinner."
"You're determined to finish out the day with Farnsworth?" Matt asked.
"It's only right. Glad I didn't leave yet, I've got some news. Are you still interested in speaking to the last coachman?"
"Certainly."
"I had to return some of his belongings this morning while Farnsworth was still abed. Seems he dismissed the coachman without notice and he left some things behind in his hurry." He removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Matt. "I wrote down the address."
Bristow returned and passed a paper bag to Cyclops. Cyclops checked inside and licked his lips. "I best be off. Tell Mrs. Potter's she a gem."
Matt extended his hand to me as the carriage rolled away. "Shall we speak to the coachman together?"
I placed my hand in his. "Do you have to even ask?"
I never enjoyed visiting the East End slums, and today was no exception. The sun never reached the ground in the crooked, narrow lanes of the Old Nichol, and there were no flowers or any color amid the endless gray stone walls of the tenements, poor houses and work houses. Even the windows were gray with soot.
I stood close to Matt as we entered a secluded court. It was the sort of closed-in, airless space where vice could easily fester at night amid the dark recesses. During the day, however, there was nothing more sinister than the putrid smells that seemed as ingrained in the surrounding walls and cobblestones as the soot.
Matt nodded to a woman as she hung out her washing. She looked as though she'd never seen the likes of him and stared, open-mouthed. I smiled too but she hardly noticed me.
"Good afternoon," he said. "I'm looking for James Grundy."
She pointed at a nearby door.
Matt knocked and the door was opened by a stocky man with a hooked nose and protruding brow. I would have thought him a bruiser, but he was cleanly shaved and well dressed, although his clothing was a little long in the legs and tight across the shoulders.
"Mr. Grundy?" Matt asked. "I'm Matthew Glass and this is my wife, India Glass. We're private inquiry agents investigating the theft of a valuable item. We have some questions about your previous employer, Lord Farnsworth."
James Grundy had listened placidly enough until Matt mentioned Farnsworth. Then he spat into the ground near my feet. "Did he steal it?"
"We don't know."
"I hope he did, and I hope he swings for it. He's a prick. He dismissed me without warning. Did you know that? He didn't even give me time to get all my things. They came this morning, delivered by his new coachman. Lord Fuck didn't waste time replacing me. It's easy to find staff, but it's hard for a fellow to find work. I'm still looking."
"Why did he dismiss you?" Matt asked.
"Because I know too much, and I threatened to go to the newspapers if he didn't give me something to keep quiet. That were my mistake. Asking. I shouldn't have asked, I should have just told him the information was in the hands of the papers and I just have to give my word unless he paid." He spat again.
I didn't want to look down to see if it landed on my shoe. "You blackmailed him?" I asked. "That's why he dismissed you?"
"Like I said, I knew too much. I still do. I still might go to the papers if I don't get another job soon."
"But you haven't yet because Farnsworth said he'll claim you were disgruntled over your sudden dismissal and that will discredit you," Matt said. "Is that why you're holding off?"
Mr. Grundy ran his tongue over his top teeth beneath his lip and regarded Matt as if he were trying to determine if he was on Lord Farnsworth's side or not. Matt migh
t be dressed like a gentleman, but after our questioning, Mr. Grundy must suspect he was here to find evidence against his lordship.
"I want to find work as a coachman again," Mr. Grundy said. "It's good work, pays well. But I've got no references from my last position thanks to that turd, and none of them toffs will take me on if they hear I blackmailed Farnsworth. I'll wait a bit longer before I go to the papers. That what you want to hear?"
Matt retrieved some money from his pocket and dropped the coins onto Mr. Grundy's palm. "Tell us the sensitive information you know about Lord Farnsworth."
Mr. Grundy pocketed the money and glanced around. We were alone. "He keeps a mistress. She has her own rooms in Pimlico where he visits her. Now that he's looking for a wife, he doesn't want anyone to know about his whore."
"Her name's Angelique L'Amour," Matt said.
Mr. Grundy shrugged a shoulder. "So you already know. Sorry I can't be more help." He went to close the door, but Matt stopped it.
"I paid for answers."
Mr. Grundy hesitated then crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "That you did."
"What were Lord Farnsworth's movements on Monday last, late afternoon?"
Mr. Grundy rubbed his tongue over his top teeth again as he tried to recall. "Monday would have been Tattersalls. He always goes to Tattersalls for the auctions. I drove him there at two-thirty and we left about six. I remember the bells of St. Gabriel's ringing as I drove him home."
So Lord Farnsworth couldn't have been the one to deliver the note to the editor if he was at Tattersalls at a quarter to six. "Did you ever meet Miss L'Amour?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Never even saw her. He didn't take her out. Not with me driving, anyway. He only ever visited her in her rooms." He winked at me.
Matt stepped between us, blocking my view.
"Sometimes he stayed all night," Mr. Grundy said, sounding amused. "Sorry if that's too vulgar for you to hear, Mrs. Glass, but it's the truth. Gentlemen of Farnsworth's class keep mistresses. It's just a fact."
"Not all gentlemen keep mistresses," Matt growled.