Death of a Courtesan: Riley Rochester Investigates
Page 27
He slept soundly and took an early train to Chichester the following morning. Henry seemed surprised and a little wary at his unexpected arrival. Happily Celia was making calls and so the brothers were able to ensconce themselves in Henry’s library whilst Riley explained developments.
‘Ye gods, she a murderess, you say?’ Henry dropped his head into his hands and shook it from side to side. ‘How could I have been such a damned fool?’
‘She was very accomplished at what she did, if that’s any consolation,’ Riley replied, thinking his revelation would be an efficient way to cure Henry’s obsession with the wench. ‘She had me fooled. I should have seen through her long before I did and questioned her motives.’
‘Will word get out…about her and me, I mean?’ Another shake of the head. ‘Lud, this is a disaster.’
‘That’s why I came to see you, to give you warning. She will try just about anything to save her skin, but it will do her no good. I very much doubt if your name will find its way into the newspapers but if it does you will just have to weather the storm.’
‘Celia won’t like it.’
‘Of course she won’t.’ Riley leaned back in his chair and sighed, thinking Celia seldom liked or approved of anything. ‘But the salacious nature of the entire story will be the main focus of journalistic enterprise, you may depend upon at least that much.’
‘Well, it’s good of you to warn me, Riley.’ Henry sighed, looking suddenly every one of his forty-five years. ‘Stay for luncheon and spend some time with your nephew. Celia will want to see you, too.’
Riley agreed, failing to completely hide his shock when he saw just how ill Henry’s son and heir actually was. A reminder, if any reminder was necessary, of the responsibilities that rested on his own shoulders.
It was late afternoon by the time he returned to London. Instead of going home, he made his way to Chelsea and Amelia’s abode.
‘Ah, Riley,’ she said, looking up from the book she was reading and smiling when he was announced. ‘I was hoping you would call,’ she added, putting the book aside. ‘I see from the newspapers that you got your man—and woman, it seems—and I’m bursting to know all the particulars.’
Riley laughed, kissed her hand and took the seat beside her. He accepted her offer of refreshment and Norris was despatched to fetch him a glass of whisky. Seated in Amelia’s elegant drawing room, a glass of excellent single malt in hand, he felt the travails of the past few days falling from his shoulders, and knew for a certainty that there was nowhere else he wanted to be. No one else’s company he would prefer. And so he told her everything that had occurred, answered all her questions, and repeatedly berated himself for not arriving at the truth earlier.
‘The facts were staring me in the face but there were so many different threads to follow that I allowed myself to become distracted.’
‘You are too hard on yourself. You uncovered a conspiracy to murder orchestrated by an ambitious and resentful woman, as well as catching Adelaide’s uncle in the process of smuggling.’
He shrugged. ‘Hardly the crime of the century, the smuggling, that is. Depriving the treasury of its legitimate income is generally looked upon as a legitimate sporting activity, but in this case it will be the death knell for Huxton’s business.’ He threw back his head and closed his eyes. ‘The uncle will serve a gaol sentence, just to be made an example of, and there’s no one else in the family capable of taking up the reins.’
‘Since he destroyed his niece’s life, I cannot feel any sympathy for him.’
Riley smiled at her. ‘No more can I. Anyway, I have been to Chichester today to warn Henry that there might be a little embarrassment over the coming weeks. Celeste will do anything to try and avoid an appointment with the hangman, including throwing about the names of previous lovers, if only to spite me.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘Quite. He will have to warn Celia, of course, and I don’t envy him that task.’
‘How were things at Rochester Hall?’
‘How was Jasper, is what, I presume, you are asking me?’
‘Is he as sickly as you were led to believe or is it all part of a family ploy to force you into matrimony?’
‘I was shocked by just how frail he seems. It’s a while since I was last in his company. He has no energy and the best doctors in the country are at a loss to know what’s wrong with him.’ Riley shook his head. ‘It’s a shame.’
‘And it leaves you in a quandary. You presumably have the opportunity of promotion—’
‘No, I have suggested to my superintendent that Danforth resumes his position.’
Amelia flexed a brow. ‘How very understanding of you.’
‘I am thinking of the greater good of the Detective Department. Our detractors wouldn’t hesitate to use Danforth’s lack of judgement as a reason to condemn us all. Besides, I prefer to conduct the investigations myself. The prospect of sitting behind a desk all day issuing orders does not appeal.’
‘I can well imagine.’ A soft smile played about her lips. ‘You always were a man of action.’
‘Well, one good thing emerged from this sorry mess. Henry is so grateful to me for limiting Celeste’s damage that he agreed without quibbling for Cabbage to remain in London for the season.’
‘That is good news. And saves you from the tedious responsibility of seeking a wife, I suppose.’
‘Well, that rather depends.’ He fixed her with a probing look. ‘The time has come, I think and, in truth, I am now keen to embrace the institution.’
‘Oh.’ A flash of alarm passed through her eyes. ‘Who has affected this sudden change in attitude? Anyone I am acquainted with?’
Riley smiled at her and took her hand. ‘As though you need to ask.’
‘But I do,’ she replied breathlessly. ‘You are so secretive that I hardly—’
‘My difficulty is that you are so adamantly determined not to marry for a second time. Will you tell me why?’
‘Me!’ Amelia’s cheeks flushed, her eyes clouded over and at first Riley thought she wouldn’t answer him. Then she started to talk in a low, melodious voice, her expression distracted. ‘I loved my husband when we first married and thought my feelings were reciprocated.’ She let out a slow breath. ‘I was wrong about that.’ She treated Riley to a jaundiced look. ‘Adelaide is not the only one who remained a virgin.’
Riley’s mouth fell open. ‘Your marriage…it was not consummated?’
Amelia couldn’t look at him and simply shook her head. ‘Matthew simply couldn’t, no matter what we tried. He became angry, frustrated, took that frustration out on me—’
‘He hit you? Blamed you?’ Riley ground his jaw, filled with a fulminating rage he found it hard to contain.
Amelia shrugged. What would you have me say?’
Riley shook his head. ‘You offered to be my mistress, even though you have never—’
‘You made your position clear with regard to matrimony. And I have become increasingly curious over the years…’ She turned away from him. ‘It seemed like the perfect solution.’
‘How would you have explained yourself when I discovered…well, the truth?’
Amelia shrugged. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead.’
‘I can see now why you nodded your understanding when I spoke of Ray Clement.’ Riley ran the hand not holding Amelia’s through his hair. ‘It brought back unpleasant memories. I am so very sorry.’
‘You were not to know.’
‘Cosgrave became angry and blamed you when he was unable to perform.’ She nodded. ‘Did he prefer men?’
‘No, not as far as I am aware.’
‘And you have been left feeling that you are to blame. That you were somehow responsible for his inability.’
She rippled her elegant shoulders. ‘It seems like the logical conclusion to reach. Anyway, I am unwilling to take the same risk again.’
‘Unwilling or determined
not to?’ Riley held his breath as he awaited her response.
‘I thought I was determined not to, but—’ She widened her eyes and met his gaze. ‘What is it that you want of me, Riley?’
‘Marry me, Amelia,’ he replied passionately.
The End
If you are interested to learn more about Jake Morton’s influence over the young Riley please look out for the fifth volume in my Victorian Vigilantes series, Social Graces.
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Hi, I do hope you enjoyed Death of a Courtesan. If so, please take a moment to leave a review on the site you purchased it from. I’d love to hear what you thought of this particular novel – what you enjoyed most about it and what you didn’t like. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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I’m a British author, brought up on the Isle of Wight, but now divide my time between Andorra and the west coast of Florida. I share my life with my long-suffering husband and a rescued dog of indeterminate pedigree named Jake Bentley after the hero in one of my books. Both Jakes are handsome mongrels with independent spirits and wild streaks.
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