Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4)

by Pearl Darling

  Victoria nodded. The man was obviously mad. She eyed the large knife that he had left on the table. Victoria called softly for Carruthers, who appeared immediately. It seemed that he had been standing behind the dogs.

  Moreno snorted. “So you have not two, but three guard dogs. Very sensible.”

  “Tea please, Carruthers. And a new chair for my guest.” Carruthers jerked his head and disappeared briefly. He was back almost immediately.

  “I have asked the footmen to handle it, my lady.” Carruthers blinked. “Do you require any other help?”

  Victoria glanced down at her rigid dogs. “Not currently.” She stood back to let the footmen remove the broken furniture and place two new chairs in the room. She breathed more easily as they set the chairs a good few paces apart. She did not want to go near this man.

  “Please serve the tea for us now, Carruthers.” The butler nodded.

  Victoria glided towards the nearest chair and sat down. “If you please Pablo,” she said, gesturing to the other chair.

  The man grinned. “So prettily done. My brother had taste.”

  Victoria had had enough. “I’m sorry. You must be deluded. As I said to you when I believed that you were Mr. Butterworth, your brother is dead. I never met him. I cannot help bring him back.”

  Pablo threw back his head and laughed. The top hat remained firmly glued to his head. “Of course he is dead,” he said, choking. “But he hasn’t been dead for long. About five years, I would say.”

  “I am sorry that I never met him.”

  “Of course you met him. Think, woman. What happened five years ago?”

  “Nothing of importance.”

  “You call your husband dying nothing of importance? Hah. Well done, my dear brother. Even your bride didn’t care for you.”

  Victoria held out a hand for the teacup that Carruthers was offering her but changed her mind. She could feel her fingers shaking. She wouldn’t be able to hold the saucer without it rattling. She pointed at the table silently and took a deep breath.

  “You believe that I was married to your brother… Pablo?”

  “I don’t believe, Victoria, I know.”

  “Kindly do not refer to me as Victoria. I have told you before. Lady Colchester will do.”

  “But you’re not,” Pablo said smugly.

  “Not what?”

  “Not Lady Colchester.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.”

  “Oh come on, Victoria. If only you had used rule number five, analyse what you have learned instead of nodding your pretty little head and protesting your innocence. You must know the story, my brother dies from a gunshot to the head, your husband shuts himself away and emerges a year later with white hair. I know the rules, he taught you the rules. Isn’t it obvious?”

  Victoria tried to work her lips to reply but they refused to comply. Pablo smiled at her, showing sharp gleaming teeth.

  “Good old Ponsonby took advantage of the man’s death to insinuate himself into the household. He’d always told me about the time when they fooled a damp squib of Colchester’s cousin into thinking that they were each other. Well this time he went one step further. He must have thought that hiding for a year would fool everyone’s memories just that little bit more. Going white-haired must have been a boon. I was the same. First hair appeared at my supposed brother’s funeral.”

  Victoria made one last ditch attempt for sanity. “As I recall you left after your brother’s funeral and never came back. You cannot have known unless he told you that he took his friend’s place.”

  “Why do you think I stayed away so long?” Pablo wrinkled his lips. “The bastard wrote to me and threatened me. After all I did for him. It was only by chance when I came back five years ago after exile in Spain that I saw him on the steps of a grand house. I had to do a double take.”

  “Why didn’t you approach him?”

  “How do you approach a dead man? I turned up the day after and heard that he’d died in the night and that his perfect grieving widow was in seclusion.” Pablo threw back his head and laughed. “Perfect grieving widow. What a joke. Look at you fooling around with that low born strongman.”

  Suddenly Pablo stood and strode to Victoria. He grabbed her wrist tightly. “How does it feel to be the same as the rest of us, Victoria? Your marriage was a sham. You lived in sin with a man for five years. You remain who you ever were. You may be the younger sister of a lord, but now you are a nothing if I reveal to the world your secret. All of your riches are gone, this house, the servants. It’s back to living with your faithful brother. Oh, but no, that’s a little hard as he has just got married. He’s not going to want a tainted little trollop sitting in his nest.”

  Pablo spat on Victoria’s dress as he enunciated the word trollop and screamed as Brutus bit strongly into the seat of his breeches. Victoria could only watch numbly as Pablo’s hand tightened around her wrist.

  “Get that damn dog off me, Victoria, do you hear? As my brother’s widow you are now under my protection and I tell you what to do. You can start by killing this dog.”

  Pushing her chair back, Victoria stood, ducking away from Pablo’s bent figure. Firmly, she tried to unpeel Pablo’s clutching hand from her wrist, but his grasp was too strong.

  “What is that strong man to you, Victoria? Who is he?” Pablo’s voice finished in a yelp as Brutus closed his jaw further. He closed his eyes and opened them suddenly, his pupils wide. “I wasn’t using rule five myself. The perfect Lady Colchester with a low down strongman? Ridiculous.”

  Victoria renewed her efforts to lever up Pablo’s fingers. Numbness spread through her arm as bile rose in her throat.

  “I thought I was being watched but I never thought that someone would be audacious enough to join my troupe under my very nose. Such a talented man at that. He must rue the day he met you now. Hah—”

  “Enough, Pablo.” Victoria took hold of one of his fingers and squeezed hard. The man yelled. “Get out of my house and out of my life. Think about putting any of those rumors out, and your livelihood dies. I’ll have you transported to America before that.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I can. You think those rules were taught to me for nothing? I can pull so many strings that you will be caught in a net that you will never be able to get out of.” Victoria brought her face close to Pablo’s and whispered in his ear. “And that strongman? Never met him before in his life. Why do you think your brother married me? Because I am a harlot at heart, of course. I get it where I can, and he was convenient. Anyone can play the role of a devoted wife even if they hate their husband. Dear old dead Poisonby.”

  Pablo gasped, in his shock opening his fist slightly. With a jolt, Victoria pulled away.

  “Brutus, take him to the front door.” Inexorably, Brutus tugged at Pablo’s breeches whilst Ponzi jumped up and down nipping at the man’s chest.

  “You haven’t heard the last from me, Victoria. We are family, you and I. You should meet my son. We could all be very happy together. I’ve left you a wedding present on the desk—”

  Pablo ended in a scream as Ponzi managed to take hold with her sharp teeth at a piece of flesh on his thigh. As Brutus dragged him through the doorway, Pablo knocked his head against the doorframe, knocking off his large top hat.

  “My hat!” screamed the hapless man. “Give me back my hat.”

  Victoria made no move to retrieve it. “I’ve already met your son.” Victoria said dully. “He does a fantastic impersonation of you. You look most alike. Especially when he is stealing young girls from pauper farms.” It all seemed so clear now.

  “My son?”

  But Victoria didn’t hear the answer. It seemed that most of her body had shut down. A pool of blackness started to coat her vision. She was never going to be rid of it. Bill would never marry her now. She no longer possessed what he wanted, the wealth, the title. Marriage shouldn’t be built on a lie. She’d thought the same when Rosa Fanthorpe had outl
ined her plan to trap Mr. Cryne. She would not be party to that herself.

  Victoria let the beast come. It had no eyes. Hot on its tail came a swarm of others. She screamed as the world closed in.

  CHAPTER 26

  Freddie narrowed his eyes and put a hand to his side as he let out a howl of laughter.

  “I don’t believe it. What is that in your hair? And your skin? You’re browner than a nut and glistening, man. What have you been up to? Where have you been for the last few weeks?”

  Bill gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time for Freddie’s histrionics. “I’ve been undercover.”

  “Undercover? More like over-baked. Who persuaded you that this was a good look? I mean, I know that you were looking for your place in society but the whole—” Freddie waved his hand up and down—“gypsy look is a new thing even for you.” He twitched at his brocade waist coat and smoothed down his coat of bath superfine.

  “Look, move aside, Freddie. I need you to get me my men from Brambridge. I need their help again. And I need a bath.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Oh shut up. Pedro Moreno is here, in London, along with his father. They are both up to something.”

  “Anglethorpe’s been asking after you, you know.”

  Bill swallowed. That was all he needed. “And?”

  “As no one’s heard from you in a while they are wondering what you are doing with regards to Pedro. Anglethorpe was a little bit agitated that he had found his sister attending a travelling fair act in the center of London with his wife.”

  “Good God. Did he follow them there?”

  “No. He was already there to keep an eye out in case Pedro turned up. No one knew where you had gone.”

  This was diabolical. Now both Pablo and Pedro would know that there were people watching them. Despite Anglethorpe’s great skills, Pablo Moreno had already rumbled Bill. He couldn’t go back. But he had to find out what Pedro was doing with the girls. He had to protect them and grab the documents Lord Granwich wanted.

  “Have you ever heard of the Heracles Club, Freddie?” Bill looked pointedly at Freddie’s feet. He hadn’t even made it in through the door yet. “Come on, let me in, Freddie.”

  “You’ll have to go around the back.”

  “But I’m your friend.”

  “I don’t care if you are my friend. You look sufficiently suspicious that Willson didn’t even recognize you. If people and the staff see an enormous gypsy coming in through the front door then my reputation will be ruined.”

  “Good grief.” Bill stomped down the front steps and set off to the coach house at the back of the mansion. In the coach yard, Willson waited with a large towel and a pile of clothing.

  “Lord Lassiter wondered if you might like to bathe here, sir?”

  “What the?” Bill had been looking forward to hot water and an iron tub complete with scrubbing brush and sponge. “What am I meant to use?”

  “I believe that Lord Lassiter suggested that the horse trough was the best place to start. He is a little worried that sir might rub off on some of his antique furniture.”

  “His obsession with old junk is becoming ridiculous.”

  Willson gave a humph in reply, but stood silently waiting with the towel in his hand. With a roar, Bill dunked his head in the trough. Willson handed him some strongly scented soap.

  “I believe that Lord Lassiter requested that you have a thorough wash.”

  “For goodness sake.” Bill stripped and, pulling a bucket from the wall, filled and sloshed the contents over his naked body. If only he had been able to do that when Victoria had suggested she kissed him. He would never have done so. His body would have been as cold as ice instead of hotter than the sun.

  Scrubbing hard with the soap, he removed all of the oil from his body and hair. Still, even after Willson had handed him the towel and he dried himself, the soft material was stained with a sticky brown.

  Willson handed him a shirt and plucked the towel up from the ground with a finger and thumb and dropped it on the rubbish heap.

  “Will sir be coming in for some food?” Willson enquired.

  “No. I need to go and see someone. Please see to it that messengers are sent to Brambridge Manor at once to get my men to come here please, Willson. It is a matter of life or death.”

  “Of course.”

  Bill had left Raven back amongst the huddle of tents. He cursed his lack of foresight. He needed a horse now, and Raven would have been ideal. Still, given the time of day, walking the short distance to Upper Brook Street seemed a viable option too.

  Carruthers let him into the house but seemed nonplussed as to what to do when Bill requested to see Victoria.

  “I’m very sorry, sir,” Carruthers said hesitantly. “But she’s not available now.”

  “You mean she’s gone out?”

  “No, not as such sir. She is just indisposed.”

  Bill wanted to jump up and down on the man’s immaculate shoes. “What do you mean indisposed?”

  “She won’t see anyone.”

  “Tell her Bill is here.”

  “I will try, sir.” Slowly Carruthers turned and stomped heavily up the stone stairs. Bill shook his head as the butler slowly turned on the landing and disappeared into the upper hall. He wondered idly where Brutus was. Had Victoria got rid of the dog without telling him? It seemed unlikely. A deep woof at the top of the stairs confirmed that the wolfhound was still in residence. The tip of a big nose appeared, but in a flash disappeared again with the sound of clipping paws.

  Bill frowned. Brutus was his dog. He’d had him from when he was a puppy. Surely he would have greeted Bill for a stroke at the very least. Something very fishy was going on. Bill hurried up the steps after the butler, only to collide into him in the hallway.

  “Sir, might I ask you to come downstairs again. Lady Colchester has said that she doesn’t want to see you.”

  This was no time for the silly girl to play games. Didn’t she know that she was in danger? “Tell her I’ve come with her list.”

  Carruthers wrung his hands. “I’m not sure, sir…”

  “Just tell her, dammit.”

  Carruthers turned on his heel and entered a door down the hall, muttering, “Oh dear, oh dear,” as he walked.

  Brutus bounded out of the room as Carruthers opened the door. He put his nose in Bill’s hand and paused momentarily before giving a short woof and bounding back to where he had come from. He paused and glanced back as if to ask Bill to follow him. Bill shrugged his shoulders and walked down the hallway. Carruthers slid out through the door before he had managed three paces.

  “This time sir, she said that she doesn’t need to see you anymore.”

  “She doesn’t need to see me?”

  “She was quite clear about her wording.”

  “Did you know that I asked her to marry me, Carruthers?”

  Carruthers smiled delightedly. “Oh congratulations, sir.” His face fell and he glanced back at the door. “But she…”

  Bill nodded grimly. “She asked me to write a list with reasons as to why she should marry me.”

  “And this list?”

  “Is the one I just referred to. And she’s saying she doesn’t need to see me. So either the answer is a flat no, or she doesn’t need a list any more with which to say yes.”

  Both men turned to contemplate the closed door.

  “Pardon me if I speak out of turn, Mr. Standish, but on the whole the latter solution does not seem as plausible.” Carruthers wrung his hands again. “Oh dear. Were you perchance meant to return with this list a while ago?”

  “Yes, but you know how it is,” Bill let his voice trail off. “She wanted thirteen reasons. I barely managed four.”

  “So long as the main reason was on there.” Carruthers nodded, inviting Bill to nod with him. “My young lady says that nothing else matters.”

  “Main reason?”

  Carruthers had a dreamy look on his face. “Although Isabell
e says that sometimes a little bit of passion goes a long way too.”

  “Isabelle?”

  “My young lady. You ought to know as you might marry Lady Colchester. Isabelle acts as the front for the Colangle Investigation Agency.”

  “Colangle Investigation Agency?”

  “Mmm yes. Lady Colchester came up with the name. Mixture of Colchester and Anglethorpe. She started it a short while after Lord Colchester died. She has had a number of successes, most notably the Armistead affair.” Carruthers’ voice trailed off as Bill stared at him. “You don’t know of the Armistead affair?” he repeated.

  “Everyone knows of the Armistead affair,” Bill said, swallowing. “Lord Armistead faced financial ruin at the hands of an anonymous blackmailer who threatened to give false information to the ton that contained such a minute seed of truth that they would have been believed. Armistead secretly employed someone to find out who it was… it turned out to be his daughter’s fiancé. Armistead has been singing the praises of the investigator high and wide for the last year but won’t reveal who it was he engaged…”

  “Hmm. It’s all part of the bargain Lady Colchester strikes with her clients. Secrecy and fees in donations to the poor.” Horror dawned on Carruthers’ face. “You didn’t know about the investigation agency, did you?”

  Good God. And Bill had accused her of an empty life and needing a husband. “No,” he said tersely.

  Carruthers rubbed his face absently, and examined Bill’s face in great detail. Seeming to make up his mind, he began to talk quickly. “In fact, you ought to know, Mr. Standish, that Lady Colchester had a visit from a Pablo Moreno that has upset her greatly. He is otherwise known as Mr. Durnish or Paul Butterworth. I tried to protect her, but had to remain unobtrusive so I didn’t hear what was said, but Lady Colchester ended up throwing out Mr. Butterworth with Brutus attached to his trousers.”

  Moreno had already been here? He mustn’t have bought what Bill had said. Gods but Victoria was in greater danger than he thought.

  “Carruthers, I’m very sorry, but I’m going to have to step round you and see Victoria, whether she doesn’t want or need to see me is another matter.”