Three Secrets and a Scandal (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 2)
Page 18
As he relieved Theo of his driving coat, gloves and hat, Saunders announced,
“There are two gentlemen to see you, Sir. They arrived some time ago and when I informed them you were expected back this afternoon, they said they would wait.”
“Who is it?” Despite his distracted mood, Theo smiled when he glimpsed Saunders‘s expression. “Trouble, eh? But I’m not aware of any creditors dunning me for payment.”
“I would never allow tradesmen into your lodgings,” said Saunders, with a sniff. ‘Sir Seymour is in the parlour with a Mr Lucius Grey. They were most insistent about waiting and, as it was Sir Seymour, I thought it would be acceptable. I trust I did right to bring up a bottle of the best claret?
“You did.” Theo’s brows drew together. “What on earth brings Dinny here at this hour? And with Grey too.” Trying to ignore the prickle of alarm shimmering up his spine, he spoke again to Saunders. “As soon as my business with Sir Seymour is done, I will be going out again. Lay out some fresh clothes, but first, bring up another bottle of claret—I’m as dry as a bone.”
Saunders went away and Theo strode toward the parlour, annoyed his visit to Sophie would be delayed and resolving to get this interview out of the way quickly.
As befitted a typical bachelor’s abode, Theo’s rooms were arranged for comfort rather than elegance. The furniture in the parlour was old-fashioned: a selection of bottles, tankards, glasses and decanters adorned a large sideboard; a writing desk sat near the window and an assortment of ill-matched chairs were placed around the room, two of which were drawn up haphazardly to a worn, baize-topped card table near the fireplace. Cigars, snuff jars, a clock and invitation cards cluttered the mantelpiece, while the large mirror above it had several newspaper advertisements announcing sporting events pinned to its frame. A selection of whips leant against one end of the sideboard and sporting prints and engravings hung on the walls.
The oblong table in the centre of the room was set with a white cloth, a decanter and glasses. Sir Seymour, attired in a coat of dark green superfine with pearl buttons, breeches and a waistcoat embroidered with green and gold oak leaves, was seated at one end, pouring out a glass of wine. His usually amiable face bore a stern expression. At the other end sat Mr Grey, more soberly attired than his companion, but equally as sombre-faced. His arm rested on the table, his fingers carelessly crooked around the stem of a half-filled glass. He was deep in conversation with Sir Seymour, but they fell silent when Theo came in.
Theo nodded a greeting. “Dinny, Grey…this is a surprise. To what do I owe this visit? I should tell you that I have to go out again almost immediately.”
Sir Seymour wasted no time with pleasantries. He pushed forward a clean glass and waved one hand towards an empty chair. “Sit down, Theo. Your appointment will have to wait. What we have to say is important.”
Theo’s gaze flicked between the two men. “Oh? Important enough to bring you both here?”
“Some things can only be conveyed in person and in private. Lucius has accompanied me because the matter concerns him also.”
Dinny was looking unusually grave and Theo could see there was no prospect of this interview being put off. Nor, judging by Dinny’s expression, was it likely to be pleasant. Contrary to appearances, Sir Seymour was not a frivolous man and Theo knew whatever he had to say was in earnest. The prickles of alarm intensified. “Very well,” he replied, sitting down.
“I will come straight to the point,” said Sir Seymour. “We believe Sophie Devereux could be in danger.”
Theo gave a start, sat bolt upright, and then cursed under his breath. “Are you certain?” Sir Seymour nodded.
“Dash it all!” cried Theo. “I should have anticipated something like this, but I had to leave her under Verney’s protection.” He looked sharply at Sir Seymour. “What do you know?”
“Grey here has recently obtained information which makes us fearful for her safety.”
“You!” Theo glared at Lucius Grey. “Why should anyone listen to you? You’ve not been entirely truthful since we met—”
“I have not, but—” began Grey.
“I knew it! I wasn’t such a paperskull to believe that nonsense you spouted when you caught up with us at The Pelican.” Theo sprang to his feet, leaned over Grey and said in a threatening tone, “Was it you who went into Sophie’s room that night? Damn it, I’m a fair way to thinking any danger to her will come from your direction!”
“Calm yourself, Theo!” urged Sir Seymour. “You will not help Miss Devereux by getting angry with Luc.”
Theo swung around, an arrested look on his face. “Luc? Do you know this fellow well then, Dinny?”
“Well enough to say you can trust him completely. You are mistaken in thinking Sophie is at risk from Luc—on the contrary, he has been watching her most carefully.”
Jealousy blazed in Theo’s eyes. “What the deuce for?”
“What we are about to tell you is in the strictest confidence.” Sir Seymour pressed his fingertips together and paused, as if contemplating the best place to begin. “Have you ever heard of the Bath Fox?”
Still eyeing Lucius Grey warily, Theo said, “Sophie mentioned him on the way to London. Some thief who is snatching diamonds from dowagers and terrorising stretches of the Bath Road. Sounded a hum to me.”
Dinny shook his head. “It is not a hum. The Bath Fox exists and—”
“I am extremely interested in him,” finished Grey.
“And why would a fellow like you be interested in a petty thief?” said Theo, taking a mouthful of wine.
“Because Luc is attached to Bow Street,” said Dinny.
There was a moment’s silence before Theo, standing next to the table, swayed like a sapling in the breeze and succumbed to a bout of coughing. Sir Seymour’s build rendered him not ideally suited to springing up from chairs, but the animation with which he jumped to his feet almost amounted to a leap.
He administered a succession of generous thumps to Theo’s back, a pragmatic gesture which helped Theo swallow his wine, but also sent his glass crashing to the floor.
Dabbing his mouth with his handkerchief, Theo slumped onto his chair and stared at the man still sitting impassively at the head of the table.
“Good grief!” he managed to croak. “I knew there was more to you than met the eye. Are you a Runner?”
“Not exactly,” said Lucius. “Although I work for Sir Nathanial Conant, the Chief Magistrate, unofficially I report to Viscount Sidmouth, the Home Secretary. It’s through the Home Secretary that I became acquainted with Sir Seymour.”
There was another long pause.
“The more you tell me, the less I understand!” cried Theo. “Just who are you and how do you come to be working for Bow Street and the government? You’re an educated man, not someone who has worked his way up from a Charley’s shelter!”
Grey’s mouth twisted into a smile. “I have a chequered history.”
“Luc will explain later. There is no time to go into his background now,” said Sir Seymour. “All you need to know presently is he can be trusted. I have liaised with him on several government committees and, as he has already explained, he has access to the highest offices of state.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” said Theo, giving Grey an accusing look.
Grey shrugged. “I was on the point of doing so several times, but my orders did not permit it. My hands were effectively tied until I reached London.”
“And what about Bowyer? I fear you are going to tell me he is really Lord Liverpool in disguise—most unusual valet I’ve seen in my life!”
“Mr. Bowyer is not the Prime Minister,” said Luc, his eyes twinkling with sudden amusement. “He is a Bow Street Runner and has been working closely with me on the Fox case.”
“At least I was right about him not being your valet. But what does all this have to do with Sophie? Surely you’re not suggesting she has any connection with the Bath Fox?”
�
�She has, but she is unaware of it,” explained Sir Seymour. “Luc’s role is that of a roaming investigator, Theo. His background makes him eminently suited to undertake complicated cases that are arousing disquiet at government level, especially those requiring discreet handling. He was assigned to the Fox case as it had been suspected for some time that the Bath Fox was not a member of the criminal underworld, but someone of higher rank. How else, it was reasoned, could he have detailed knowledge about the movements of his victims and the jewels he was stealing? The provincial law officers were unsuccessful in their inquiries and the robberies continued unchecked. That was bad enough, but the attacks began to increase in frequency, creating a frenzy of speculation and fear among the local population. They also began to occur further afield. The Fox’s notoriety spread and, when the robberies became increasingly ambitious, it was decided something more had to be done. Activities seemed centered on Bath, so it was agreed Luc’s investigations should begin there.”
There was a knock at the door and Saunders came in. He placed the new bottle of claret on the table and, after wordlessly picking up the remnants of Theo’s glass and asking if anything else was needed, bowed out of the room.
“When I met you, I had been in the area for several months,” continued Luc when they were once more alone. “I moved mainly among Bath society while Bowyer made enquiries in the less salubrious areas…we were watching, waiting and listening. Snippets of information began to come our way. They seemed unconnected, but after weeks of painstaking work, it became clear the information pointed toward a certain person. It hardly seemed credible but, again and again, we were led back to the same conclusion. To confirm our suspicions and obtain evidence that could be used in court, I began to inveigle myself into Peregrine Sloane’s circle—”
“Sloane!” interjected Theo, his eyes widening.
Grey nodded. “I gained his confidence, such as he was prepared to indulge me with, and quickly suspected he was indeed involved. The difficulty was to find out precisely what his role was and then to prove it.”
“Sloane’s a half-flash, half-foolish fellow,” said Theo, curling his lip. “I doubt he knows much of the business.”
“Then you would be mistaken.” Grey picked up the decanter and refilled his glass. “He is at the heart of it.” There was silence.
“Are you telling me that Peregrine Sloane is the Bath Fox?” asked Theo at length.
“They are one and the same,” said Grey. “Sloane covers his tracks well—he employs a handful of accomplices, no more, and pays them handsomely to keep their mouths shut. It’s difficult to believe, but beneath his modish exterior lurks a conniving, greedy, dangerous man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
Theo gave an incredulous laugh. “The man’s an arrogant fop, I grant you, but the idea he could be involved in anything criminal...” He shook his head as he contemplated this fantastic notion. A moment later, he spoke again to Grey. “Sloane doesn’t seem to possess the necessary intelligence. And do you suggest he is capable of violent theft?”
“That and more. Recollect I have had the opportunity to study him at close quarters. He is not a man who naturally turns to violence—like most cowards, fear and intimidation are his weapons of choice—but he has a singular determination to achieve his ends and a penchant for jewels. One might call it an obsession. If violent methods are needed, he will get others to carry out the work on his behalf or do it himself if pushed.”
“And he is getting bolder. A footman was lucky not to get a bullet through the heart during the last robbery,” Sir Seymour pointed out. “Success has bred confidence. Sloane thrives on the subterfuge, the incongruity of his position in society with that of his criminal alter ego. Add a natural arrogance and a lifetime of indulgence, and you have a disturbing combination.”
“I can scarcely believe it,” muttered Theo. Then he said in horrified accents, “You say Sophie knows nothing of this?”
“Nothing,” confirmed Luc. “Neither does Miss Sloane or, I believe, Sloane’s mother. I realized Sloane, with encouragement from his mother, was trying to coerce Miss Devereux into marriage, but I wasn’t sure why. It did not appear to be for purely monetary reasons. Sloane’s debts are negligible and he’s a wealthy man. Had I appreciated how fast events were moving and how desperate Miss Devereux felt, I would have found a way to intervene, but it was too late. Her flight from Ludstone threw everything into disarray. At first, when I encountered you at The White Hart, I thought you might be an accomplice of Sloane’s—”
“So you followed us?
Grey confirmed this, adding, “It soon became clear you were not. Your demeanour was not that of a man who meant Miss Devereux harm and she trusted you. But Sloane’s arrival at The Pelican changed things. I knew then that if Miss Devereux was worth going to such efforts to recover, she had something Sloane wanted badly. I hoped to discover more by getting him drunk, but he proved cleverer than I had hitherto given him credit for. Of course, there was the possibility he had begun to suspect me but even if he had I could not abandon the investigation. To do so would have placed Miss Devereux, and possibly others, at risk. The intruder in Miss Devereux’s room confirmed my fears…she had something Sloane was determined to get.”
“Was Sloane the intruder?”
“It could have been an accomplice, but it’s my belief it was him on that occasion.”
“The filthy cur! Did he intend to harm her?”
“I think not. Not at the outset, anyway. Unless trapped, he’s cunning rather than bellicose. He hoped to find what he was looking for among Miss Devereux’s belongings until she awoke and disturbed his search. Seen from his point of view, the venture was worth the risk. If he had found what he wanted, the theft would never have been attributed to him.”
“I know what he wants,” said Theo grimly.
“So do I now—the Devereux Star.”
Theo raised his brows. “Did you learn of it from Sloane?” he asked, scrutinising Grey’s features.
“No. He was always reticent with regard to his cousin. I found out another way.”
“How?”
Grey leaned back in his chair. “Sloane suggested continuing on to London in the hope that another opportunity to find what he was looking for would present itself. His mother was easy enough to convince, and Miss Devereux and you were hardly likely to disagree. On balance, I decided it would be for the best —at least Miss Devereux would have two of us protecting her interests, albeit you were unaware of my role.” Flushing faintly, he added, “I manipulated the situation to allow Miss Sloane to accompany us. You have seen how she is treated and, following her cousin’s flight, I thought it preferable to prevent her from returning immediately to an intolerable situation at home. You will, of course, recall the incident in Maidenhead Thicket.”
“Yes, but how could Sloane be involved? He was with us all the time.”
“He arranged for his accomplices to hold up our carriages while he played the outraged victim.”
“The deuce he did!” cried Theo. “How do you know this?”
“Bowyer followed Sloane when he went to report the incident to the magistrate in Maidenhead. He didn’t see the magistrate, or even the parish constable, but went instead to meet the two men who had held up our carriages. They handed over Miss Devereux’s reticule and Bowyer, watching from his concealed vantage point, observed Sloane’s fury when he realized it did not contain what he was looking for. Sloane returned to the inn and Bowyer reported back to me. We arranged for descriptions of the men to be sent ahead to Bow Street.”
“Ah, then I presume the same men searched the room at The Bell and Anchor?”
He nodded. “They didn’t find what they were looking for, but I only confirmed that when I spoke to them earlier.”
“You spoke to them!”
“They were apprehended yesterday at a tavern in the East End and taken to Bow Street. My interview with them proved revealing. They told me Sloane will stop at nothi
ng to possess the Star. His visits to Brook Street have increased in recent days.”
“What, you mean Verney hasn’t discouraged him?”
“Quite the contrary.”
“Blast the idiot!” exclaimed Theo roundly. “I knew he couldn’t be trusted to watch over her.”
“Now you perceive the reason for our haste,” said Sir Seymour. “Sloane is becoming increasingly frustrated. Having lost his chance of stealing the sapphire, he will not want to see his efforts fail entirely.”
“I hoped to avoid a scandal which touches Miss Devereux and Miss Sloane, but matters have reached the point where we can no longer stand back,” admitted Grey. “Sloane will soon discover where Miss Devereux is keeping the Star.”
“She keeps it with her.”
“I had reached that conclusion. So, I believe, has Sloane and that is why she is at greater risk. Do you know exactly where it is?”
Theo told him and afterward Luc nodded, observing, “I wondered why she always wore the pin—it did not seem quite her style. I called in Brook Street yesterday afternoon to discover Sloane had escorted her to the British Museum without her maid. Alarmed, I hurried to Bloomsbury to find them still looking at the exhibits. Now I think of it, she was wearing the pin. I don’t know what Sloane had planned, but his manner seemed different.”
“Do you think he suspects where the Star is concealed?”
“It’s a strong possibility. I had to get him away from Miss Devereux so I invited him to dine with me. Although clearly he thought it an odd request, he agreed. As it happened the evening passed off uneventfully, but he has something planned, I know it.
And he definitely suspects I am not all I seem.”
“Perhaps his accomplices know of his plans.”
Luc shook his head. “Those two were to wait at The Dog and Duck until he sent word. Needless to say, we have posted runners in their place.”
“What do you propose now?”
Sir Seymour sighed. “There lies the difficulty. We could arrest Sloane, but we don’t have enough proof. All we have is the testimony of two known felons—hardly the sort of evidence to convince a jury of Sloane’s guilt. Outwardly he is a respectable member of society, and it will take more than flimsy circumstantial evidence to convince a jury he is also a notorious criminal. Miss Devereux and Miss Sloane could endure the distress of a court case, only to see Sloane walk free.”