‘I take it those doing the ransacking and threatening were not seen or recognised,’ Jake said scathingly.
‘No, and nor did their efforts bear fruit. Far from encouraging the tenants to turn their backs on Father’s scheme, they persuaded the others to redouble their efforts to make it succeed.’ Ros permitted himself the ghost of a smile. ‘It seems that Irish farmers don’t take kindly to being threatened.’
‘Good for them!’ Lady Torbay cried. ‘It must have taken a great deal of courage.’
‘But the rabble-rousers were not deterred either, I would imagine,’ Jake added.
‘Indeed they were not. Father has been accosted and told in no uncertain terms that his efforts are not welcome. The pater told the man who attacked him to go to the devil and received a hefty whack over the head for his trouble.’ Ros paused, anger swirling through him at the thought of such cowardly methods of coercion being employed against a man who was neither young nor in the best of health. ‘That was the first I learned of the business. Father couldn’t hide his injuries from me when I visited him in Ireland recently, otherwise I would most likely still not know. Except I would, because they have now turned their attentions to me.’
‘They want you to use your influence in government circles, I would imagine.’
‘Precisely so, which leaves me in a bit of a cleft stick.’
‘If it were not for your father, I’m sure you wouldn’t hesitate to follow your conscience. But you are afraid, I suppose, that they will take their revenge upon him, simply because he’s an easier target.’
‘Easier? Ha!’ Ros threw up his hands and allowed himself a momentary smile. ‘He’s fighting mad and has galvanised the troops. If they want a war, my boy, he told me, they’ll get one.’
‘You didn’t inherit your diplomatic ways from your father,’ Jake said, smiling.
‘Hardly. The old man believes in fighting fire with fire. He’s employed a small army of guards for the estate, and to ensure the safety of his tenants. He doesn’t care if it bankrupts him, just so long as the bullies don’t win.’
‘One has to admire his attitude,’ Lady Torbay said softly.
‘And I would, ma’am, but for the fact that he refuses to protect himself in the same way that he protects his tenants. He continues to ride around the estate and beyond its boundaries unescorted. He seems to think that no one will dare to take pot-shots at an earl, which is complete moonshine. Take the pater out of the equation and the whole project will collapse.’
‘You are indeed in an unenviable position,’ Jake said, ‘but I am unsure how you think I can be of any help.’
‘Annabel Aitken,’ Lady Torbay said. ‘Whoever has taken her is almost certainly the same person who is behind the threats levelled towards your father.’
‘I agree,’ Jake said, ‘but you could not have known about Miss Aitken before you called upon me, and now that you do, you were reluctant to tell me about your own travails. Surely, as you say, they must be connected? Quinn, whom I assume you suspect of being behind the whole ugly business, wants both you and Aitken singing to his tune and isn’t too fussy about the manner in which he earns your cooperation.’
Ros conceded the point with an abrupt nod. ‘I am happy to help find Miss Aitken. I would have helped anyway but now I have added incentive in that I sense finding her and proving Quinn’s culpability will also bring an end to my father’s problems.’ He shook his head. ‘The entire business seems more organised, the blaggards more determined to have their way by whatever means necessary than I realised.’
‘So it would seem,’ Jake agreed.
‘I hesitated to involve you any more than you already are. After all, you are now a family man. Your priorities have changed. And that is why I wanted Lady Torbay to hear about this sorry business, Jake. I had a feeling you would want to become involved and am equally sure that your good lady would much prefer it if you did not risk your neck.’
‘Ha!’ Jake shook his head. ‘You have just proven how little you understand my wife’s character. She has already decided, I can tell by the determined set to her features, to find Annabel and befriend Jemima. And since the Aitkens’ situation and your own are so closely linked, we cannot attempt one without involving ourselves in the other.’ Jake gave a theatrical shudder. ‘And heaven help me if I decide against helping you.’
‘Take no notice of him, Lord Glynde. He would have you believe that I am some sort of avenging angel, and I can assure you that nothing is further from the truth. He is using my interest as an excuse to involve himself, even though he doesn’t need one.’
‘Surely Thorndike and his cronies can trace Quinn,’ Jake said, his expression sobering.
‘Oh, I know where to find him. He is renting a property in Soho. He accepts invitations to speaking engagements, soirees, you name it, and flaunts himself wherever he goes. He knows how to charm those with the fattest pockets, playing upon their idealism. But none of the pater’s problems can be traced back to him directly. He’s far too canny to leave himself exposed in such a manner.’
‘He will become too confident and overlook something. Such people always do in my experience. Anyway, I’ll set Parker to work. He has friends well placed to ask the right questions.’
‘This is serious, Jake. Are you sure you want to be involved? Thorndike has already dragged you into the Aitken business and I know you are not happy about having been approached by him.’
‘I’ll get over it,’ Jake replied mildly, standing to refill their glasses. ‘Anyway, it seems to me that I won’t get to the bottom of one situation without looking into the other, and we have already established that Olivia wants to know what happened to Annabel Aitken.’
‘Then I am obliged to you,’ Ros said, accepting his refilled glass with a nod of thanks and taking a healthy sip.
‘You haven’t discussed this matter with Aitken? Or anyone else in the government.’
‘No. I would be seen as a liability if I did and would probably be removed from my position for reasons of security.’
‘Would that be such a bad thing?’ Lady Torbay asked.
Ros allowed himself a small chuckle. ‘I have often asked myself the same question. But the fact of the matter is that I must have idealistic tendencies too, since I firmly believe that I have a grasp of the complex situation in Ireland and could actually be of some use.’
‘To be clear, you cannot seriously believe that Quinn’s sudden appearance in England, the abduction of Miss Aitken and the intimidation of your father are not connected,’ Jake said.
‘No, they must be. Naturally I knew nothing about Miss Aitken’s situation until I arrived here today, and it casts everything in a very different light. Someone—Quinn, I am certain—is determined to have his voice heard, his demands met, at the highest levels and doesn’t much care how he goes about achieving that objective.’ Ros ground his jaw. ‘Abducting the daughter of a minister, threatening an old man…it’s all the same to him. But his two-pronged attack might prove to be his downfall. I suspected from the first that he was behind the threats levelled at my father, but had neither the means nor the authority to find the necessary proof. As I say, if the wrong people hear of it, I will find myself unemployed.’
‘But if we are right and he has also taken Miss Aitken,’ Jake said, ‘that changes everything. He has become overconfident and miscalculated.’
‘It would seem so. Either that, or time is working against him for some reason and he wants to force the issue.’
‘Then we are in agreement,’ Jake replied. ‘We find Miss Aitken, then go about proving who took her, thereby exposing Quinn’s machinations and his links to your father’s problems.’
Ros lifted one shoulder. ‘Let’s hope it proves to be that easy.’
‘If it was easy, you wouldn’t require my help. Unlike you, I don’t have to answer to the prime minister’s minions, who are more interested in protecting their own backs than seeing
justice served. Besides, we don’t have to actually prove his connection to your father if we can show that he abducted the daughter of a serving minister of the crown. That will be sufficient to see him discredited and brought before a court of law to answer for his crimes.’
‘I look forward to the day.’ Ros put his empty glass aside and stood, offering Lady Torbay his hand. ‘Thank you for permitting me to borrow your husband,’ he said politely.
‘You are entirely welcome. And I shall enjoy befriending Jemima. She seems like an interesting young woman and I would like to know her better.’
So would I.
‘I will collect you from your rooms in the morning, Ros,’ Jake said, standing to shake his hand. ‘But upon reflection, in view of what you’ve told me about Quinn, I think it better that we steer clear of him for the time being.’
‘You don’t want him to know that we’re on to him for fear of forcing his hand?’ Ros nodded his understanding. ‘Besides, if he has her, I’m sure he will be nowhere near wherever Miss Aitken is being held.’
‘I will have Parker do a little snooping in the meantime, see what he can come up with.’
‘And us? What shall we do?’
‘In the absence of anything else, we will talk to all the men who formed a part of the excursion from which Miss Aitken disappeared. If she was as keenly appreciated by the opposite sex as her sister implies, then one or more of them would have been watching her, either in the hope of getting her alone or ensuring that one of his competitors did not. So one of them might have seen something of significance, even if he doesn’t yet realise it.’
‘Jemima said they had already been interviewed,’ Lady Torbay pointed out.
‘Not by us,’ Jake replied, ‘or by anyone who knew the right questions to ask.’
Ros voiced his agreement and then took his leave, feeling better for a burden shared, optimistic that justice might just prevail.
Chapter Seven
Jemima felt almost cheerful to have made new friends and to have her opinion both sought and respected. She waited for guilt to assail her, aware that she ought not to be thinking about herself when her sister’s life hung in the balance, but guilt refused to put in an appearance. The welcome she had received from Lady Torbay had brought home to her just how neglected she had become accustomed to feeling.
Her new friends had not turned away from her because she had a withered hand. Lord Glynde had noticed it and made a point of touching it. Lady Torbay had actually remarked upon it, expressing sympathy but not appearing to be repulsed by her disfigurement. Their reactions had given her courage. Annabel was missing and Jemima, instead of spending her days attempting to pacify her mother, could actually do something useful to try and find her. She straightened her shoulders, deciding that she would not be discouraged despite the objections her family would inevitably raise.
She stared out of the window as the carriage rattled along, wondering if a small falsehood would better serve, thereby avoiding an unpleasant disagreement or forcing her to wilfully disobey a parental dictate. Regardless of the consequences, she would confront her father, if and when he deigned to return home from Westminster. She would find out precisely what he knew about Annabel’s situation. It must, she felt absolutely sure, be more than he had thus far chosen to share with her or Mama, about whose sensibilities he was ever mindful. Ever the seasoned politician, Papa never revealed everything he knew about any situation—not even to his family.
And never to his wife.
‘Jemima, is that you?’
Mama’s aggrieved voice echoed through the house the moment Jemima was admitted by a maid.
‘Yes, Mama.’ Jemima suppressed a sigh and removed her bonnet, cape and gloves. She handed them to the maid and resolutely mounted the stairs.
‘Where have you been?’ Mama demanded to know as soon as Jemima entered her room and found her mother reclining on a day bed in front of the fire. ‘I needed you and you were nowhere to be found.’
‘I can’t think why you needed me so urgently,’ Jemima replied briskly. ‘You had your maid to bear you company and fetch you anything you needed.’
‘Which is not the same as having one’s own flesh and blood to hand. Really, I had no notion you were quite that selfish.’
Jemima turned away and rolled her eyes, knowing better than to enter into a discussion she would never win. ‘When will Papa be home?’
‘When is he ever home?’ Mama emphasised her hard-done-by tone with an aggrieved wave of one hand. ‘He said he would be early this evening, but I shall believe it when I see it. He has no consideration for my feelings. None whatsoever. No more do you. You ought not to be gallivanting about when your poor sister is missing, even if you are privately glad to see the back of her.’
‘Mama! What a thing to suggest.’
‘I speak as I find, child. You are jealous of your sister’s beauty and popularity, which is why you choose not to show your face in society. You are pretty enough, when you make an effort. You have no reason to feel intimidated by Annabel.’ Jemima simply shook her head, too astounded by her mother’s false accusations to find the voice to defend herself. ‘Anyway, you should not have gone out. It doesn’t look right.’
‘We are trying to maintain appearances, Mama, in case you had forgotten. Besides, I was not gallivanting. I called upon Lady Torbay.’
‘Jake’s wife?’ Mama sat bolt upright, her expression suspicious. ‘Whatever for?’
‘Because Lord Torbay invited me to, as well you know. We discussed the matter, if you recall. Anyway, I liked her very much. She is most gracious.’
‘She is not worthy of Jake.’
‘You are acquainted with her?’ Jemima asked, aware that she was not.
‘I know her slightly, and have seen her about. I hear things, too. People talk about her.’
‘You ought not to believe the gossips. I found Lady Torbay to be charming and very down to earth.’
‘You are too easily deceived,’ Mama replied crisply. ‘I hope she doesn’t know about Annabel. I would not trust her to keep the matter confidential.’
‘Of course she knows. Lord Torbay has no secrets from her.’
A tight smile graced Mama’s lips. ‘Does he not?’
‘Oh, I dare say he committed his share of indiscretions during his younger days, and I’m sure his wife doesn’t need to know the particulars of his dalliances. What I mean to imply,’ Jemima added, absently straightening a cushion, ‘is that he and his countess appear to be blissfully happy now and he doesn’t keep anything from her.’
Mama sniffed, as though she had suddenly detected an unpleasant odour. Either that or she had been forced to confront a truth that she would prefer to deny. ‘Well, I suppose he knows what he is about.’
‘I am perfectly sure that he does. Anyway, Lady Torbay is collecting me in the morning and we are going to speak with Fiona Farrell together. She might have thought of something that will help, or have been admitted to Annabel’s confidence and, in the light of my sister’s continued absence, now be willing to reveal what she knows.’
Far from seeming relieved that action was being taken to locate Annabel, Mama seemed uninterested. ‘It will be a waste of time,’ she said. ‘Fiona knows nothing.’
Jemima shrugged. ‘Nothing that she would dare to tell Papa. He terrifies people. But she might be glad to relieve her conscience by telling me.’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘You would prefer to sit here fretting and do nothing to try and find Annabel?’ Jemima sent her mother a challenging look. ‘One moment you accuse me of being jealous of her, the next you criticise me for attempting to help find her. Really, Mama, you cannot have it both ways.’
‘You have become very outspoken.’ Mama frowned. ‘Such coarseness is not becoming. I hope that is not Lady Torbay’s influence already rubbing off on you, although I would not be surprised if it is. I never thought she was totally innocent
of involvement in her first husband’s murder.’
‘I met an interesting gentleman at Lady Torbay’s,’ Jemima said in a hasty attempt to change the subject, well aware that Mama would not permit her to have the last word. ‘Well, actually he was no stranger. You have entertained him here but we had not spoken before.’
‘Who was it?’ A spark of interest lit Mama’s eyes. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense, child.’
‘Lord Glynde.’
‘Ah, such a charming gentleman, and very attentive towards me. Your sister liked him and he was quite overcome by her beauty. He told me as much.’
Jemima quirked a brow. ‘Uninvited?’
‘Well no, he would not be that obvious, but it stands to reason that he must have been beguiled by her. Every man she meets always is.’ Mama glanced in the mirror to her left—she never permitted herself to stray far from a mirror if it could be prevented—and patted her curls into place. ‘It was the same for me when I was her age.’
‘With the exception of Lord Torbay?’ Jemima suggested mischievously.
‘He was not Lord Torbay then,’ Mama snapped.
‘Ah, I see. That would explain it.’
Jemima immediately regretted her flippancy. Mama might be vain and silly but she was genuinely upset about Annabel’s disappearance and Jemima really ought to be more sympathetic. She had been at her mother’s beck and call these past four days, she reminded herself, listening to endless laments about her beloved girl’s fate. But the time for lamenting had passed, she decided, when she heard a gruff voice and heavy footsteps in the hallway below them.
‘Oh, that must be your father. Tell him I have need of him,’ Mama ordered. ‘If he remembers that I am alive.’
‘I am sure he will be up directly, Mama,’ Jemima replied, standing to leave the room. But not, she privately vowed, until she’d had a frank exchange with him.
She ran her father to ground in his library. He had just poured himself a substantial glass of what appeared to be brandy and sat behind his desk as he savoured it, his expression remote. He looked haggard, the lines on his forehead compressing to give him the appearance of ferocity. His eyes were bloodshot, making it seem as though he had not slept in days. He very likely had not. Jemima felt great sympathy for the weight of responsibility that he bore and, despite the disappearance of his favourite daughter, his determination to carry on as though nothing untoward had happened.
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