“None of your concern. Suffice it to say that he wouldn’t have succeeded.”
“But he was a threat to you,” Julia persisted, refusing to give up her point.
A flash of light from one of Richard’s cut steel buttons meeting the sunlight showed me his slight movement, the only indication of his annoyance. “No threat. Merely an irritation. Except for his physical threats. Dead is dead, and if he’d managed in his aim of killing my wife last year, he’d have been dead a few months sooner. But his foolish attempt this year didn’t do more than anger me.”
“He tried to mark you in public, and he tried to take your wife.”
“It was the attempt to abduct Rose I spoke of. He said he wanted to speak to me. I’m guessing that he wanted more than that. He wanted to compromise Rose, show me as a libertine returning to his old haunts and turn society’s opinion against me. At the same time, he was trying to work his way into the Kerre family. He’d have accepted an allowance and perhaps a gift of an estate somewhere. I don’t think his attempt to prove himself legitimate would have survived very long. It would have cost him a fortune in court, and he was very unlikely to win the case. It didn’t form much of a threat.” He spun around in a whirl of coat skirts and headed for the window. “A foolish, headstrong child,” he said, staring out of the window for a moment before facing the room again.
I knew what disturbed him. John was too much like Richard as a youth. He had recognised the similarities—the intelligence, the looks, the shooting-star presence that made everyone stare. John lacked other qualities Richard showed in abundance, but that initial similarity could jar the senses. And he was Richard’s son. Richard had no choice but to continue to deny that, but it hurt him to do so, I knew. His innate sense of justice mitigated against it every time he was forced to it. As he was now.
“A man,” Julia corrected him. “A very virile, potent man.”
I glanced at Steven. Had he shown signs of flagging recently? Was that it? His high cheekbones flushed with an angry pink. That could have been because of his wife’s unashamed cuckoldry. No man would appreciate that. “I never thought him above the average.” I had to give him credit for a good face. Perhaps he was learning, at last, not to show all his emotions as he felt them.
“You shared intimacy with him too?” I nearly laughed at the expression on Steven’s face when Richard asked that question. Revulsion and horror, mingled with shock, I thought, from the widely dilated eyes and slightly open mouth. His jaw had dropped.
Richard gave him back a humourless smile. “What, you didn’t think I knew all his games? He gave his body to whoever asked as long as he got something out of it. His guardian, the original Sir John Kneller? John recognised his preference for men and indulged it.” Nice to see Julia disconcerted for a change. “Your desire for me? He indulged it by giving you the younger version. Persuading you that he was my son only increased the thrill for you.”
Julia found her voice. “Aren’t you afraid that you’ll corrupt your precious wife’s ears by such talk?”
My turn for the humourless laugh. “You think we know nothing in the country? Believe me, Julia, the idea of bucolic bliss is much exaggerated by the town dwellers. I guessed how John got his fortune, and how he manipulated people, men and women. A man-whore.”
I enjoyed Steven’s discomfiture. He’d already taken me for an innocent provincial, as I was when he met me, so it was good to show him that even a provincial’s naiveté only stretched so far. Richard’s way of protecting me was to tell me the truth. He understood me far more than anyone else did, or ever would, and he knew I’d worry far more about nebulous assumptions than I would about the truth. “You know when he took us last year that he planned for us to die together, seemingly in adulterous congress. Can you really think that he’d balk at seduction to get his way?” I turned to Julia. “Did you give him any money?”
She flushed and avoided meeting my gaze. “Some. Only what he earned.”
“A lot,” Steven said quietly. “A great deal.” He met Richard’s gaze, dark, melting brown against steely blue. “You must know our financial situation.”
Richard gave a terse nod. “Dire. I don’t imagine the boy remained innocent of that, either. He sought out any weakness and used it. It was always his way. But you might not realise that his estate was almost extinct. He needed your money to fund his appearances in society.” He flipped the skirts of his coat, fine wool, decorated with silk braid, the buttons alone worth a good amount. “It isn’t cheap to appear this way. Once I decided to fritter away my inheritance, expensive clothes formed a part of it, but my father threatened me with instant penury. I started my own business in partnership with others. John took a different path. He inherited a tidy estate and a good business, albeit illegal, and spent it all in pursuit of revenge. He could have lived a comfortable life away from the public eye, provided for his sister, which is what he claimed.”
Julia’s chin went up. “Susan? But she is your daughter, so that would make John your son.”
In the fraught pause that followed, I knew Richard came closer than at any other time to acknowledging the boy. But he couldn’t, not now we’d taken our course. Even now, with the boy ostensibly dead, threats could remain. And since he’d been careful to deny John in public, his word would no longer be trustworthy. The fact that he’d denied his son in order to protect the people he loved wouldn’t matter to the gossips.
“Susan is John’s sister. They were twins, children of a woman with whom I once had a brief relationship. That’s all. Their resemblance to me and the fact that they are twins must have given John the idea of claiming me as his father.”
I hated that he had to do this. It went against honour, against truth. But sometimes the bravest men were the ones who took the truth and hid it, knowing the damage the truth could do to innocent people.
“Should we contact Susan, I wonder?”
“No. She wants to keep away from this business, and I can’t blame her.”
Julia’s sly smile made her look like a cat eyeing up a mouse. “I think someone should inform the magistrates about her. Don’t you?”
Richard gave her a disgusted glance. “Are there no pits too deep for you, Julia? Is there nothing you wouldn’t stoop to? You’re willing to drag anyone down with you as long as it brings you closer to the surface. No, you will not lay any information. Susan has nothing to do with this. In any case, you won’t find her.” He’d have to warn Susan to leave her lodging, if she were willing. About to take the step into respectability, Susan could ill afford anyone dragging her before a magistrate, forcing revelations about her past. She’d lose her respectable Welsh squire if they did that. “John contacted her, but she refused to deal with him.”
Julia sighed. “I see. She was always willing to help me.”
“Until she saw reason,” I said. “All most people want is fair dealing. You failed to do that and you lost any influence you might have had over her.”
“Quite the friend to her, aren’t you, Rose?” Julia had always despised me, but it was an emotion born of desperation. She’d taken Steven in the same spirit.
Richard’s quiet tones broke in before I could reply. Perhaps he knew I was simmering, longing to give Julia the rightabout. “Someone had to. You only wanted what she could bring to you. You fostered her feelings of injustice without telling her the truth. Enough of this. Julia, I tire of your empty threats and your bluster. You are also low on funds. Word is creeping around that the name of Cartwright isn’t all it once was. Creeping will become wildfire if you don’t mend your ways and start making money instead of spending it. And yes, of course I’ve kept you under close surveillance. You know it too. You tried to seduce the last footman you employed from Thompson’s. He wasn’t impressed. So tell me straight, Julia, or as straightly as you can—when did you last see John Kneller?”
Julia bit her lip. “And what do I get in return? Will you leave me and my club alone?”
Richard sh
ook his head. “I can’t do that. You’re creating a bushel of mischief and unsettling an already uncertain state of affairs. It’s the wrong time to try to create another faction and it won’t work. You’re backing the wrong horse.”
“Fox, rather than horse,” she muttered.
Richard waved a hand. “Fox is no more your creature than you are his. Don’t insult me, Julia. More disreputable factions. I don’t care much which. Jacobites, the French? Wherever you hope to get your funding, it’ll be immaterial in a year or two. If you listened at the balls you attend, you might learn more, rather than trying to make yourself the centre of attention. Times are changing, and the current volatility won’t last much longer. Do what your father did, read the times and act accordingly instead of trying to change them.”
I had no idea she’d aimed so high, but already I knew enough to realise that Richard told the bare truth. People like Pitt and Fox might appear to quarrel, but they’d put that aside for a common enemy, and we were heading back towards war.
Men of power had birth, connections, wealth and intelligence. Julia could only guarantee one of those, and she’d used that resource up. She wasn’t even the right sex and hadn’t the patience to set Steven up as her partner or even her puppet.
I guessed Richard knew very well which faction Julia had contacted. Probably the Jacobites, given that they’d taken to clutching at straws recently. A drunken prince and a Cardinal brother didn’t augur well for heirs. Thank the Lord. The Jacobites were a spent force. Ten years ago they’d made their bid for power and they’d lost. They had few friends, less money and no chance to be anything but a pin in the backside of men of power. In fact, Julia misread situations so badly she might have been called Stuart.
Julia seemed to sag, but the next moment she pulled back her shoulders and faced Richard boldly. “I see no harm in telling you. We had a charming adventure that night, your son, Steven and I. It lasted until nine the next morning, at which time John left, saying he had business in the City. I didn’t ask what that was. I guessed he had an appointment with a loan shark, since he’d asked me for money the night before and I’d refused him. Steven and I were loath to curtail our entertainment and we called in a footman to take John’s place.” She cast her husband a contemptuous glance. “After all, one handsome blockhead is as good as another. All he needs is a muscular form, a pleasing countenance and a prick.”
Steven’s lip turned and he looked away, but his eyes sparkled with anger, not shame or chagrin. I marked the reaction. With what Richard had said to him recently and that anger, he might decide that he’d try behaving like a man for a change.
When he lifted his chin and met my gaze, anger still simmered. “It is as she said,” he said. “We were in company all night and most of the day afterwards.”
“And you a man of the cloth,” Richard commented.
Steven glared at him. “You doubt my word?”
Richard cocked a brow. “Yes, to be frank. But it’s enough for now. I intend to discover who did this, and if possible why, so if you have any information, I’d be glad of it. Even sensitive information you’d prefer not generally known. If you’re planning to extort any money from anyone on the basis of this, I’d advise against it.”
Steven shook his head. “That will stop. We’re closing the club and reassessing our situation.”
Julia’s head whipped around and she stared at him, outraged. Steven met her gaze with equanimity. “No, Julia. We are stopping. We can’t go on with this any longer and it’s getting us nowhere. I’ve spoken with your father, and in future your allowance will come to me, as it should have done from the first. He’s frail and worried, and I won’t have it any longer.” He got to his feet and glanced at Richard. “If I ask you to help in this, will you do so?”
With a smile in his eyes, Richard nodded. “Be glad to. I might help you find a buyer for your club premises if you have no need of them.”
Steven drowned Julia’s “No!” with a smooth, “I’d be delighted. Thank you.”
I listened to Julia’s subsequent fuming tantrum with a growing appreciation of her use of thieves’ cant. I had no idea there were so many words that could be used to insult a man. However, after five solid minutes, I felt the familiar tension in my stomach and knew the build of ordinary volume in her diatribe would soon result in angry shouts, which I hated above all things.
Richard anticipated my tension and when Julia got to her feet, he stood between her and me, giving me the respite I needed. “Enough.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Take her home, Drury, calm her if you can. I don’t envy you the prospect.”
Julia continued to pour out her river of insults, calling Richard every name she could think of and combining it with Steven. Richard probably accepted her words as a way of wearing her out and because she didn’t mention me. She must know better than that by now. But when Julia resorted to tears and collapsed against Steven’s shoulder, Richard obligingly opened the door for them. “You might tell people if they see her that she’s distraught by the news about Kneller.”
Steven nodded. “I meant it,” he said over a noisily sobbing Julia. “It’s my price. She knows what I mean.”
Richard closed the door after them and turned to me. “I wish I knew what he meant. I believe he’s lying for her.”
“Of course he is,” I said. I’d known that as soon as he met Richard’s eyes when he affirmed he’d been with her. “But we don’t know why, or why he felt he had to cover for her.”
Richard held out his hand and helped me get to my feet. “Either he knows Julia had a hand in his death, or she was engaged in something so heinous even he can’t bear it known.” He paused and drew me into his arms. “Though he’s been very enthusiastic so far.”
“What he wants is an easy life. He won’t get that if she spends all their money and ruins her father.”
He touched his lips to my forehead. “True enough. Now about that rest…”
Chapter Sixteen
ALICIA HARDLY EVER visited us in Brook Street. She preferred to meet us at the business premises, so I found it surprising that she called on us at half past three a couple of days after the Drurys’ visit. We had, naturally, told her about it, but we hadn’t expected any response. However, I was pleased to see her. Alicia, with her practical, no-nonsense manner, reminded me of Martha, and if the two exchanged places, I’d bet both of them would cope with their changed circumstances in a similar way. Knuckle down and get on with it. I’d have given Alicia the edge on imaginative solutions, though.
Since she called at that time, she knew she’d find us alone. Half an hour before the dinner hour meant most people would be at home dressing or at another house making polite conversation. We came down to greet her in full dinner dress since we were due at Martha and James’s. Overdue, but we knew Alicia wouldn’t have come at this time without good reason.
Slightly dishevelled, a hat crammed on over her cap, a blue cloak over her peach-coloured gown, Alicia had obviously left the house in a hurry. “I have someone in custody,” she told us without preamble. “He wishes for it. But I need to consult with you now.”
Richard left the room to call for Carier, who arrived within half a minute. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Old habits, to do this to detect eavesdroppers, but in this house there should be none.
“Who, and why?” Richard rapped out, none of the society effete about him now.
“A servant, one Elijah Jones.”
Richard raised a brow.
“African,” Alicia explained. “He came here as a slave and stayed on as a domestic after his mistress freed him. He saw the murder.”
Richard raised his gaze to the ceiling and swore. “What does he want?”
“Safety and a position in a good household.”
“The trouble is, with his race, nobody will believe him.” Richard paced the room, his restless energy crackling in the air. “The damned British propensity to distrust any foreigner. It
won’t hold in court. What did he see?”
“He’s ambitious, and he believed Julia’s promises.”
I watched Richard. “Not the first person to do so,” I said. “Hopefully one of the last. Tell us what he said, Alicia. With no rodomontade.” At least I could trust Alicia to tell the truth with no euphemistic cover-ups to save my delicate sensibilities.
Alicia sighed. “Fun and games with Julia at the Cytherean Club. But it seemed that halfway through the festivities, Kneller ran out of steam.” She quirked a brow. “Ran out of energy. Failed to get an erection. When Julia began to insult him in her endearing way, he grew angry and struck her. She struck back. With a knife.”
Richard whistled. “Why would she do something so stupid? She has a temper, but that uncontrollable?” He answered his own question. “Because she’s begun to think that she’s invulnerable. Or she did before our move on her. We know she’s killed before. She killed Abel Jeffries. But the body we saw wasn’t John Kneller.”
“No, it was the other man in the room.”
“Three men?”
Richard glanced at me after my involuntary exclamation. “A little too far for you, my love?”
“Too greedy.” I would have added that not everyone could be as lucky as I was, but perhaps I’d tell him that later.
It broke the tension a little. But we got right back to business. “Three men,” Alicia said. “She deliberately searched someone out who looked like you, Richard. Two men, both of whom looked like you, and Elijah Jones.”
“Ah!” Richard didn’t appear surprised. “So she killed the mysterious someone?”
“Jones informs me that the man’s name was Seb Garraway.”
“No doubt short for Sebastian,” I commented.
Alicia nodded. “Indeed. John moved aside, and since he and John stood close together, she struck him instead. It proved a glancing blow, and Jones stepped forward to help the injured man, but she struck again and killed the unfortunate man. In cold blood. Jones, not being a complete idiot, grabbed his clothes and ran.”
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