“That is insulting.”
“Not as insulting as you lying to me. Not as insulting as hanging for something you did not do.”
“Neither did—”
“Who, Trudy? For God’s sake, trust me. Just say the name.”
“You know I cannot. I would be the worst sort of... of person to betray such a confidence.”
“Confidence? Do you know, my dear, that the person who confided in you has made you an accessory? You are as culpable under the law as that person.”
“But I did nothing.”
“Precisely. You knew, but you did nothing to end, prevent or report the wrongdoing. You knowingly allowed it to continue unchecked.”
“Then you must run from me at once, Collingwood, or turn me in. Do not sully your good name with the likes of me.”
“I cannot.”
“If you do not, would that not make you an accessory, too?”
Ah, she’d found the flaw in his argument. Dare sat beside her and took her hand in his. He could only imagine how difficult this was going to be for her. “I need you to tell me the truth, Trudy. I must hear it from you. Who is the Mayfair Shadow?”
The silence drew out for a long moment, and he thought he’d lost the battle. Then she took a long shuddering breath looked down at their linked hands.
“Dare, what will you do once you know?”
“I will know that when I know the truth. Trust me. And tell me the truth for once, Trudy.”
She couldn’t look up look at him and see the disappointment in his eyes. Pretense and lies were useless. They both knew they’d arrived at the inevitable end of their ill-advised friendship. He already knew the truth and he simply wanted her to admit it. But she wanted more. She wanted him to understand it.
“Skippy. Lancelot is the Mayfair Shadow. But it isn’t what you think.”
He heaved a deep sigh. “I very much doubt you know what I am thinking.” His hand tightened around hers and she wondered if he thought she would flee. But where would she go? How would she ever escape?
“Have you always known? Are you a part of this?” he asked.
“I only suspected a week or so ago. I thought I saw him take Mr. Amory’s watch that day at the Ashland’s garden party. He denies taking anything from Mr. Amory or stealing Julia Littleworth’s ruby earring, and I believe him. He swears he has only taken a fraction of the items reported as stolen by the Shadow. But the rest... yes, I think it is all true.”
“Are you certain? There is no room for error here, Trudy.”
“After... Vauxhall Gardens, I went to his room to ask him if he was involved. He wasn’t there, so... so I searched through his drawers. That is how I knew he took those things. I found them in a secret compartment in his desk drawer. Even then, I couldn’t quite believe he was the Mayfair Shadow. That he would ever do such a desperate thing. But he could never have killed anyone. I know him better than anyone, Collingwood. He becomes angry. He can become belligerent and stubborn. But he is not violent.”
“You would be surprised what desperate men are capable of, my dear.” He sat back against the bench and looked upward. “So you’ve known since the beginning of our friendship, and said nothing.”
Her heart sank.
“You knew I was looking for the Shadow. You knew I’d staked my reputation upon it. And you led me a merry chase, allowing me to think you just might be the thief. Encouraging me. Diverting me from the real Shadow.” He released her hand as if he were letting her go entirely.
“That is how it started,” she admitted. “I thought it was a lark. That you would tire of me and finally lose interest and return to your search. I only meant to provide Skippy some time. A little breathing room. And to protect him.”
“Protect him? From your father?”
“And you.”
“Me? What did you think I—” He waved one hand as if to erase his thoughts. “Ah, my wager. We will come back to that, Trudy. So you protected him from your father so he could steal more?”
“No! But there was so little time left, you see—”
“He set a date beyond which he would not steal?”
“No! Yes. Yes, there will be no point in it, you see, after his markers are due. If he cannot redeem them, they will go to Father to make good on them. And he will pay to avert scandal and shame. But then, you see, he will send Skippy away in disgrace. Father has very little tolerance for Skippy’s peccadilloes.”
“How much does he owe?”
“I do not know for certain, but he said near ten thousand. More than he could borrow. He says he has stolen the equivalent of his losses in goods, and he has stolen only from the men who hold his markers.”
“He thought to pay them back with their own money?” Dare stood and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did he think they would not catch on? Is he mad?”
“Oh, I know how this must sound, but every word is true. And this is why I know Skippy would never have harmed Lord Amory. He did not cheat Skippy.”
“Cheat? Are you saying that your brother was cheated at gambling by the Dukes of Morvill and Fortrose? By Halston, Eton, Morton and Bradley?”
“Not all of them. Not Lord Morton or Mr. Bradley. Skippy never stole from them.”
“Good God. I’ve never heard such reasoning before.” He faced her and leaned against the arbor. “Which brings me back to you. Why, after all we meant to each other, did you continue to deceive me?”
“Because of who you are.”
“Who am I?”
“A man whose dogmatic beliefs have led him to swear to uphold the law at any cost. A man who sees mercy as weakness, who cannot see any shades but black or white. Right or wrong. Good or evil. A man I’ve been told has no love but Lady Justice. That kind of man. And I knew if I told you, you would pull him up by the scruff of his neck and march him off to gaol.”
“And do you not believe in justice?”
“With all my heart! But there are differences between the written law and the spirit of the law. And times when moral right and decency is more important than the letter of the law.”
“Trudy, you cannot base your perception of justice on your emotions or feelings of what is right.”
“Why not?”
“Justice is rooted in the law, and the law must be held sacred to protect the whole. Laws are made not for the sole purpose of punishing the guilty, but to protect the public and to keep order. Victims of crimes must be protected. Their loss should be addressed and remedied. If we did not have the rule of law, then might would win over right. Where is the justice in that? Law is all that makes us civilized.”
“Report me, then, and Skippy, too. I would not cheat you of the pleasure of winning your wager and being right. Again. But keep in mind, Collingwood, that those men first wronged my brother. He knew they cheated him, but he could not prove it. What justice did he have?”
“Bloody damn hell! What do you expect me to do?”
She stood and faced him toe-to-toe. “I expect you to follow your conscience, Lord Collingwood.” And with that, she turned back to the house, aware of him following her closely, muttering curses under his breath.
Her family had just arrived home minus one member. Lancelot. She must find him. She had to talk to him before Dare caught up to him. He needed to know his secret was out. Make whatever plans he still could.
As they entered the sitting room from the garden, her mother, followed by her father and sisters, sailed in and dropped her reticule on the settee. Her parents registered surprise when they noted Dare with her. Her father greeted him cordially, but her mother cast him a jaundiced glare.
“You will never guess what happened in church today!” she said with the tone of imparting the scandal de jour.
Trudy shrugged. “Someone stood at the reading of the banns and gave cause why Laura should not marry Burke?”
Laura said nothing but Trudy recognized a look of amusement on her face. Fiona, however, appeared miffed.
Mother,
though, was disconcerted. “What? No! Why would you even say such a thing?”
She shrugged. She’d always been an optimist. She’d hoped for a miracle. She’d even prayed that Laura would come to her senses—that she would beg off when she realized her fate was imminent.
“Though it did have to do with banns” her mother continued. “After reading Laura’s banns, the minister read banns for Jane Fenway. Jane! To Sir Bertrand Ackerly! Can you imagine? That mousy little gnome?”
“Jane?” Trudy smiled. “How wonderful! She is the kindest, most genuine girl I know. I am privileged to count her among my friends. She deserves every happiness, and I shall call on her this very afternoon to tell her so.”
Her mother ignored her and raised her nose a fraction, as if she smelled something distasteful. “And what are you doing here, Lord Collingwood?”
“Here now, Ellen! Is that any way to speak to a guest in our home?” Her father flushed nearly purple. Trudy assumed anger or embarrassment caused that peculiar color.
She interceded before Dare could give an answer that would curl mother’s toes. “He came to be certain the magistrate had taken my statement. I was just showing him to the door.”
“Oh, well.... Thank you for looking after Gertrude and Lancelot last night,” she said. “I really was feeling quite faint.”
“Happy to have been of service, madam.”
Trudy shivered at the chill in his voice. She took his offered arm and led him toward the foyer. “I think it would be best if you did not come here again. You seem to have a most adverse effect on Mother.”
“I don’t give a whit about your mother, Trudy. What do you want?”
Unexpected tears burned the backs of her eyes. “I just want this all to be over with, and for Lancelot to be whole again.”
“I fear that may be an impossible task.”
“You must go on your way, Collingwood, so that you are not tainted by whatever will happen next. I know you must be furious for my deception.”
At the door, she released his arm and stepped back. He was so impossibly handsome, so doggedly determined, that her heart twisted. “I agree that this is an impossible situation. But there my agreement ends, because I realize that sometimes the law is blind to what is right. And that sometimes, Collingwood, you must break the law in order to do the right thing.”
He looked at her as if he would argue, then put his hat on and tucked his walking stick under his arm. “This is not over yet, Miss Carr.”
Chapter Fourteen
WHITE’S WAS QUIET for a Sunday afternoon, and Dare suspected it was due to the cool, damp weather. He wandered through the club and finally found a card game in one of the back rooms. Whist was the favorite ‘road to ruin’ at White’s, and he was not surprised to find two games in progress, and Carr in deep.
The participants were comprised of last night’s group, with one or two additions. Morton glanced up at him and scooted his chair sideways.
“Pull up a chair, Collingwood. There’ll be more along later. We’ll start another table.”
“I cannot stay long.” His stomach twisted when he looked around the table. These men—Halston, Eton and Morton were his friends. And two of them could be cheaters, along with the others Trudy had named. “Who is coming?”
“Morvill, Fortrose, and Clark.”
Ah, yes. James Clark had reported a stolen watch fob—a substantial gold nugget—and his wife was missing a topaz necklace. If what Lancelot had told Trudy was true, it would mean Clark was involved with this cheating scheme.
If there was, indeed, a cheating scheme. That still remained to be seen.
And yet... he was beginning to believe. Last night he had noted something odd in the play. A flick of the wrist here, a tapping there, a scratch or a cough there. And now, as he watched, he saw it again. A quick glance passed between Halston and Eton. Dare turned to Carr and noted that he was studying his cards. Perhaps they only passed their signals when their target was distracted.
The hand was done and the points counted. Morton and Carr lost.
Morton threw up his hands in disgust. “You used to be the luckiest man at cards I ever knew, Carr. Nowadays, I always lose when I partner you. Off your game?”
A muscle twitched along Carr’s jaw. “Seems my luck has turned.”
“Why do you even bother?” Lord Halston asked.
“I’ve been asking myself that of late. I supposed it is because I really have nothing else to lose.”
A reference to his markers being due in three days? Carr was even more reckless than he’d thought. But then so were the cheaters. Morton had been cheated by virtue of having sat across the table from Carr and thus being his partner. Other games—faro, hazard, rouge et noir, macao—would be more difficult through which to bilk an unsuspecting victim.
He went to a sideboard where a tray with glasses and decanters of wine were waiting and poured himself half a glass of port. He turned to watch the play as Carr picked up the shuffled cards and dealt.
Halston sorted his cards and spread them, then drummed his fingers in an attitude of impatience. Could that be clubs? A moment later Eton coughed and thumped his chest. Hearts? Clever bastards. He glanced at Carr and wondered how the man could have missed that? He could guess how spades and diamonds would be signaled. A scratching. The flash of a ring.
Now he knew how. But he still didn’t know why. What possible reason could these men have for bilking young Carr? He suspected myriad reasons. Arrogance, youth, winning too much? Or did it have to do with Carr’s father? Had the old man refused a loan? Assessed a penalty or fee? Foreclosed on a loan?
He watched a while longer from his vantage by the sideboard. Morton, unsuspecting because of the company, seemed genuinely flummoxed by his consistent losses. It was good to know his friend was not a part of this scheme. He had been a victim of it by virtue of being Carr’s partner.
His conscience tweaked him when he realized what betraying her beloved Skippy must have cost Trudy. But, in spite of that, she had made a leap of faith in trusting him. He was grateful for that much.
He continued to watch. Had he not been looking for it, he would have missed the cheating entirely. And now that he knew, what was he going to do about this abominable plot? Denounce these men who were his friends? His peers? Abandon Carr to a fate he did not deserve? Accuse and expose the cheaters? Could he even prove their perfidy? They would, no doubt, stick together and deny it all.
Carr, however, presented a more difficult problem. No matter how Dare rationalized, the lad was still a thief. And possibly a murderer.
There had to be a way to defuse this situation. But first he needed to understand it. He’d seen enough.
He downed his wine as Morvill and Fortrose entered the room. The perfect opportunity.
Fortrose grinned when he saw Dare. “Another table! Morvill, fetch some unsuspecting victim from the parlor, eh? Then we’ll have enough.”
“No. Cannot stay,” he said. “I came for Morton and Carr.”
Halston shot him a dark look. “We’re just getting started. Take Morton, if you wish, but leave Carr to us.”
“He has business at home. His sister needs to see him as soon as can be. And Morton promised to accompany me to a cotillion this afternoon.” The one place he knew these men would not follow. Let them stay here and cheat one another.
Morton’s brow crinkled but he stood and pocketed his remaining counters. “Cotillion. Forgot about that,” he murmured under his breath.
Once on the street, Carr balked. “What’s this about?”
“Miss Trudy needs to speak to you at once. She has some news for you. And you can ill afford to lose more, eh?”
“Is this some sort of trick?” Carr asked.
“I am deadly serious. She needs to talk to you. I would not be surprised if she is waiting on the stairway.”
Carr shrugged and held up a hand to a passing carriage.
Once he pulled away, Morton sniffed. “Swear we
are not going to a cotillion.”
Dare laughed. “We are not. We are going to my library and pour some excellent brandy. Then I am going to tell you a story you will not believe, but only if you swear your eternal silence. Then I will need your advice. And, if you’re willing, your help.”
Morton’s annoyance disappeared. “Darius Rusten, Lord Collingwood needs my advice? This sounds intriguing.”
Two hours later, at home and bit worse the wear for the brandy, Dare sat back as Morton paced in front of the fireplace. He was a bit concerned since his friend hadn’t said a word in over five minutes. Was he still digesting the information?
He finally turned and gave Dare a little grin. “So you did it, eh? You actually found the Mayfair Shadow. I’ll be damned! Littleworth is going to have apoplexy! I cannot wait to see his face.”
“After all I recounted, that is your only comment?”
“Obviously I have more to say on the subject. But Littleworth abasing himself is a sight I cannot wait to witness.”
“I am afraid you may not see it at all.”
“But you’ve named the Mayfair Shadow.” Morton poured himself another glass and came to sit across from Dare. “There is nothing to prevent you from denouncing young Carr, taking credit for your cleverness, and ending the crime spree.”
“Nothing but my conscience.”
“What? If what you’ve told me is the truth, how can your conscience trouble you? You are not thinking of forfeiting your bet, are you?”
“Think, Morton. The Shadow has a reputation far beyond his actual deeds. He is being blamed for robberies he did not commit. And a murder I believe he is not capable of. If I turn him over to the authorities, all manner of thefts will be attached to him. Lord Amory’s murderer would get away and Carr could hang.”
“Yes, but he is guilty of those crimes.”
“Not the murder.”
“I see what you are getting at, Dare, but should a man have the right to steal because...” Morton scratched his head and frowned.
“Because he was stolen from first?”
“So you are saying they stole from Carr by cheating, so Carr had the right to retribution? I say, that’s an odd argument coming from you.”
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