The butler announced dinner shortly thereafter, and since Justin’s seat was at the opposite end of the table from Letitia’s, he did not find opportunity to speak with her until the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies in the drawing room. In the meantime, while the other men chatted over their port, he tried to think how best to approach her on the issue of the house. He still had not thought of a way when Conroy waylaid him as the gentlemen were leaving the dining room.
Drawing him aside, Conroy said, “You have so far seen fit to ignore every request for your assistance in my quest, Raventhorpe.”
“You have no need of me if you can enlist Melbourne.”
“Melbourne does not want to share Her Majesty’s favors.”
“So you had no luck with him. Try one of her other ministers.”
Conroy shrugged. “I shall, of course, but none has Melbourne’s knack with her. You, on the other hand, wield influence with Melbourne, or so I have heard.”
“I can see no reason to exert myself for you, Conroy,” Justin said, wondering how the man had learned of his assistance to Letitia, for he could be referring to no other instance.
Conroy said silkily, “Perhaps you are not aware that your father owes me a considerable sum of money.”
“You must look to him to pay it, not to me.”
“I see. You do not mind scandal in your family, then.”
Meeting his gaze steadily, Justin said, “I think the scandal would be twofold, Conroy. Do you think it would please Her Majesty to know you had paid someone to gain access to her like you did to gain access to Melbourne?”
Conroy grimaced. “So he told you of that, did he? Well, I am in no good odor as things stand now, but I still think I’d weather that storm better than you. You can avoid it easily, however. All I ask is that you do me a simple good turn.”
Exasperated, Justin said, “My help would avail you nothing, Conroy. The only hope you have of regaining Her Majesty’s favor is if you were to throw yourself in front of a bullet to save her from assassination.”
“You are unnecessarily severe, Raventhorpe, but you can still help me.”
Justin raised his eyebrows, wondering where the man was heading now.
“They say you have an interest in the little Tory, and you certainly have a family interest in the house she inherited. Suppose I wanted to buy that house.”
“Speak to her,” Justin said, wary now. “I doubt she wants to sell, however.”
“She would have no say in the matter,” Conroy said flatly. “One does not deal with females in matters of property. In any event, no one will buy whilst your great-aunts exert their right to life tenancy. As I see it, though, your family interest strongly suggests that you should persuade them to take up residence elsewhere.”
“I do not take your meaning, sir,” Justin said, barely keeping his temper.
“Do you not? I think you do. In either case, perhaps you should occupy yourself more nearly with their welfare, and with their rather interesting activities.”
The threat, though veiled, was clear now. Whether Conroy had an interest in buying the house or not, he knew, or at least suspected, its damning secret.
For all Justin knew, Conroy was one of the aunts’ patrons. If so, however—even if it became known that he was—Conroy would suffer less than they did.
He decided that the sooner he talked to Letitia and took control of matters, the better it would be for all of them. There was no longer any point in racking his brain for a diplomatic way to approach her.
As it happened, he had no need to employ a stratagem, because she walked right up to him when he entered the drawing room.
“Whilst we were waiting, some of the ladies expressed an interest in playing cards,” she said. “I thought I had better speak with you before they get the tables arranged, lest you find yourself absorbed in a hand of whist before I could do so.”
“I abhor whist,” he said.
“Do you? I thought you would like most games, sir. Gentlemen generally do. Your brother certainly likes them. He was my dinner partner, you know, and he explained how very like law is to a game of chess. He wants to be a barrister, he said, because he looks forward to pitting his mind against others’ in a court of law.”
“First he must finish his studies,” Justin said, “but I do not doubt that he will succeed where he chooses. I wanted to speak to you, too, Lady Letitia.”
“Yes, I thought you would. Your great-aunts told me that you had learned their secret. I hope I can enlist your aid in helping me sort that out.”
“You can leave it all to me,” he said. “I’ve decided that the less you have to do with them or with the house just now, the better it will be.”
“You’ve decided.”
“Yes, and for heaven’s sake, don’t fly into the boughs, because I am only trying to preserve your good name. If word of what they’ve been doing gets out, it will reflect on all of us, of course; but as you must know, you, as a single, apparently unprotected young female, will suffer the most of all.”
“I shan’t be unprotected much longer, sir,” she said, giving him a direct look that told him his characterization had annoyed her even more. “My parents will arrive in London quite soon now. I look to see them by Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Look, I know you do not like taking advice, but if you want my help, you simply must cooperate. Just let me handle everything, and stay away from the house until I can get matters settled satisfactorily. Your parents’ arrival will prove helpful. You can simply say that any time you have away from the court you want to spend with them, if my great-aunts invite you to call.”
“You are taking a great deal on yourself, Raventhorpe. It is, I remind you, still my house, and they are still my tenants.”
Someone who had begun to play the pianoforte struck a sour note just then, making him wince. He saw Letitia’s eyebrows rise, and realized that she had mistaken it for reaction to her words. He said, “I mean no offense to you, but my mother’s aunts will need financial support that you can scarcely offer to provide for them. I can, however. Furthermore, it is my duty to look after them, not yours.”
“You can offer financial support, sir, but they will refuse it—if they have not done so already,” she added, clearly reading his expression as easily as he had read hers. “You cannot simply stomp out independence in females, Raventhorpe, much as you would like to, nor can you ignore everything that they think is important.”
“I suppose next you will tell me that you know what they do think is important,” he said with an edge in his voice.
“Yes, for they have told me. They want to protect their social image, which makes them no different from anyone else, really. You protect yours, after all. The queen protects hers. I suppose even I protect mine.”
“Their social image? They are two old ladies with excellent family connections who live in a very pleasant house in an excellent location. How would that change if I help them? The fact is that it wouldn’t.”
“But it would! Miss Abby explained that very point to me quite clearly, and I sympathize with them. You would not simply give them financial support and leave it at that, sir. You would stick your oar into their affairs whenever you thought it right to do so, and that would be much too often to suit them.”
“They need someone to stick an oar in,” he said sharply. “Just look at them. They’ve been carrying on in a mad way, one that would bring censure down on them if it ever became public knowledge, and they have been doing it for years!”
“Which just goes to show that they know what they are doing,” Letitia said.
“Keep your voice down.”
“I am trying to, but you would anger a stone, Raventhorpe. You do not always know best, whether you can admit that or not. That no one speaks openly of what goes on in that house just proves what your aunts say. It is more to the benefit of those who know the secret to keep it quiet than to speak of it.”
“Tha
t is true for the most part, but the stakes have grown, I think. There may be more danger of exposure now.”
She looked at him narrowly. “I wish you will not talk in riddles, sir. Speak plainly. What is it that you fear?”
“Are you aware that Conroy wants to buy the house?”
“Mr. Clifford told me that he had made an offer. Someone else had, too; however, he withdrew it when he learned of your aunts’ life tenancy. I supposed that Sir John had also withdrawn his offer. Certainly he has never approached me.”
“He wouldn’t approach you in any case. Though it may agitate your sensibilities to hear it, he is—”
“I have no sensibilities.”
“One hesitates to contradict you, but—”
“No you don’t. You delight in contradicting me.”
“I wish you would learn not to interrupt,” he said. “Conroy will not approach you, because although he knows you inherited the house, he assumes, as anyone would, that he must discuss any possibility of its sale with your father.”
“Oh.” She grimaced. “I suppose you are right, sir, horrid though it is. Mr. Clifford still has difficulty accepting that Papa has granted me full control.”
“So do I,” he said frankly. “It is my belief that your father assumed he could trust you not to empty his bank accounts, and that with Clifford to guide you, you would run into no difficulty the two of you could not handle. But if you can tell me, honestly, that your father expected you to meet with any situation like the one you did meet in Upper Brook Street …” He waited a beat. “Well?”
She grimaced. “A point to you, sir. He could not possibly have known about that when he scarcely even knew who Augustus Benthall was.”
“He didn’t know him?”
“No. My grandmother was a distant connection of Mr. Benthall’s, but Papa thinks my grandfather never even liked him. Grandfather died shortly before Mr. Benthall did, so we could not ask him. I wrote my parents some time ago, asking them to try again to think what could account for Mr. Benthall’s having left the house to me, but if they’ve thought of anything, they have not mentioned it to me.”
“Very puzzling.”
“Yes, but it is just as puzzling why Sir John would want to buy the house.”
“I can think of several reasons,” Justin said. “For one, it is an excellent property in an excellent location.”
“But there are other houses like that. Perhaps they are not quite so fine—”
“Few of them sit on freehold property,” Justin pointed out. “That means—”
“Mr. Clifford explained that to me.” She looked at him with the quizzical look he had come to expect whenever her mind leapt from one thought to another that some people might think unrelated to the first. “Those aren’t his reasons, are they? You think he has some other purpose in mind.”
“I do. Conroy’s only purpose right now is to winkle his way back into the queen’s favor. He thinks I can influence Melbourne.”
“You have been known to wield such influence, have you not?” she said with another direct look.
“Yes, in a good cause, and if I so choose,” he replied with a smile.
“But you don’t so choose this time.”
“Not for Conroy. His notion of the best way to alter my course is to exert pressure from all directions. He has already worked on my father, who lost at least one bet to him that he cannot afford to pay. For my own reasons, I chose not to pay it, and Conroy has threatened to make trouble over it if I don’t talk to Melbourne.”
“But that’s extortion! And now he wants my house? That makes no sense, sir. Even if it did, you cannot compel me to sell.”
“No, and he must know that. Nor would he expect me to influence your father, which is why I believe his original aim has not altered. I think he mentioned the house only to make known his strongest threat, and for no other reason.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it, and he saw the quizzical look leap to her eyes again. “You think he might reveal the secret,” she said, frowning. “He could do so, of course, for I’m nearly certain he is a patron there.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, he was at the house only yesterday. Miss Abby told me so when she said that Liza had run away.” Another thought struck her. “Someone enticed Liza to Boverie Street, you know. Could Conroy have done that?”
“Frankly, it doesn’t seem the sort of thing he would do. Nor do I think he would risk his own reputation merely to embarrass us, but he might be capable of much more than I know. In any case, you must stay away from the house until I can get things sorted out. I’ll have to keep my mother away, too.”
“It will be hard to stop her, sir. She may say her visits and morning calls are none of your business. You can scarcely command her to neglect her own aunts.”
“I would not command her to do any such thing,” he said. “I know she has every right, even a duty, to visit them. I will simply ask her to stay away from Upper Brook Street for a sennight as a favor to me. She knows how much I care about her well-being, and theirs. She will not question my reasons.”
“How very obliging of her,” Letitia said.
“I hope you will oblige me as well,” he said sternly. “You said you wanted to help. You can help best by staying away, and by not arguing about it.”
“Very well, sir, I won’t argue with you.”
“Good girl. I’ll speak to my mother now, if you will excuse me. She is apparently setting up her card tables in another room, and means to leave this one to those who want to play the pianoforte or sing. Perhaps you would honor us—”
“Don’t try my patience too far, Raventhorpe. Go find your mother. Perhaps you will find her more compliant than her aunts will be.”
“Or you?”
“I have said I will not argue with you. Don’t ask for more than that.”
“I know better,” he said, smiling. “I shall be satisfied with that.”
Letty watched him walk away, wondering how satisfied he would feel when he realized she had promised only not to argue with him. She had not promised to stay away from the house, nor would she make such a promise to anyone. The house was hers. Therefore its problems and those of its tenants were also hers.
She could hardly tell her father she had managed her affairs well if she had to let someone else solve every problem. She disliked even that small deception, though, and as she went to find Miss Dibble, her conscience pricked her. She was glad she would not be flinging her defiance in Raventhorpe’s face straightaway.
Having no inclination to play cards, she passed much of the next forty-five minutes listening with half an ear while the amusing Puck Quigley and Miss Susan Devon-Poole performed a series of duets at the piano, the lady playing (and very competently, too) while the gentleman turned pages for her. Their voices blended well, and the audience rewarded them with heavy applause when they finished.
Conversation had continued through the performance, of course. Miss Dibble coughed twice and sneezed once, for she was indeed coming down with a cold, but she seemed content to comment about one guest after another while Letty responded with polite noises. Others spoke to them, as well, making it clear that members of Whig society had begun to accept Letty’s presence in their midst. She knew that she had Raventhorpe and Melbourne to thank for that, and was careful to avoid political discussions, even when she found the temptation to enter one nearly irresistible.
For a few minutes after Puck and Miss Devon-Poole had finished singing, the noise of general conversation increased. At one point, she heard Sir John Conroy remark that the Jamaican situation seemed to be reaching a crisis.
“I hope the government isn’t making a mull of things,” he said.
Ned Delahan said at once, “In my opinion, Parliament ought to give the Jamaican assembly time to act. I have been reading the arguments presented in the Times, you know, and I think some of them have made excellent legal points.”
Lord Witherspoon, standing nearby
with Catherine, said amiably, “I daresay you can safely leave the management of Jamaica to the British Parliament, lad.”
“But the law is clear,” Ned said. “The Jamaican assembly has every legal right to ignore a law Parliament thrusts upon it. We didn’t do that to them even in such a great cause as emancipation. Not only did the assembly support our wish to free the slaves, but it passed its own emancipation act. Clearly, we should give them time to do the same with the prisons act. Once we have explained its purpose—”
“We are not obliged to do that, however,” Melbourne said, “and certain factions in Parliament are dead set against allowing any such discussion.”
Much as she wanted to cheer Ned’s efforts and support them with arguments of her own, Letty kept her mouth shut. She found herself looking around for Raventhorpe, to see if he appreciated her restraint. He was nowhere at hand, however, and although Miss Dibble might have commended her, had she been aware of the exchange, she was talking with the woman on her other side.
The debate continued until several ladies cried out for a cease-fire. Then, those who wanted to continue arguing withdrew to a distant corner to do so.
Letty burned to hear their conversation, and to take part in it. She had begun to consider the possibility of inching her way close enough to the corner to overhear, at least, when Lady Sellafield’s approach claimed her attention.
“Will you walk a little with me, my dear? I’d like to talk with you.”
“Certainly, ma’am,” Letty said, rising at once. “Will you excuse us, Elvira?”
Miss Dibble rose to greet Lady Sellafield and tell her how pleasant the evening had been, then returned to her conversation.
“Come to the terrace, my dear,” Lady Sellafield said. “The rain has stopped, and I am persuaded that the air must be quite fresh and invigorating now.”
The air was also cold, Letty discovered when she followed the countess through a set of French doors to a flagstone terrace overlooking the back garden. Torches lighted both the terrace and the paths through the garden, bearing witness to the fact that the rain had stopped, but the sky overhead looked black, and the torches flickered in a stiff breeze that rustled branches and shrubbery in the garden. Letty wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.
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