Читать книгу The Determined Lord Hadleigh - Virginia Heath - Страница 12

Hadleigh placed the little jade brooch in his desk drawer alongside the dented gold locket, well-worn cameo and the delicate ruby earrings, then locked it and pocketed the key. He was no expert on woman’s jewellery—or women’s anything, for that matter—but he doubted they were worth a great deal. They lacked the sparkle of the gems he saw glittering beneath the chandeliers at the few society events he was forced to attend when he couldn’t find the right excuse to get out of them. If anything, they were a sad, meagre collection of jewellery as far as he was concerned, but they were of great personal value to her. He had witnessed that with his own eyes this time as he had watched her dither outside the pawnbroker’s, staring at the brooch for the longest time lovingly before swapping it for a few coins.

Thanks to the Bow Street Runner he had assigned to watch her since she had moved to Cheapside three months ago, the detailed weekly reports had made it easy to see there was a pattern to those heart-wrenching visits. On the first of the month, every month, she pawned a trinket and used the proceeds to pay her bills. Today, he had paid them all before she left the house and retrieved the latest item within minutes of her leaving the pawnbroker’s shop, supremely thankful that she had not noticed him loitering in that convenient doorway as she had briskly bustled past within a hair’s breadth of him. A little too close for comfort, truth be told, when a man in his position shouldn’t be anywhere near a witness from a prior case.

But the same thought processes which had kept him up at night since the Penhurst verdict still plagued him. Continually worrying about her had compelled him to see her for himself today for the first time since the trial. He had needed to see with his own eyes exactly what was going on in her world and if her situation was as dire as the Runner had intimated it was. Solvent people, he had said in last week’s report, didn’t sell off the family silver.

For a gently bred lady to stoop that low, things had to be dire. She must be at her wits’ end with worrying about how to pay for things. He sincerely hoped she would sleep easier tonight knowing she no longer ran the risk of being evicted. Hadleigh certainly hoped he would sleep sounder. He also hoped that single act of benevolent charity would appease his niggling conscience. A conscience which bothered him the most in the dead of night when he should have been snatching enough hours of rest to keep his legal mind fresh. He was plagued with insomnia and desperately needed proper sleep. And now unburdened, would grab some—just as soon as he finished today’s mountain of paperwork.

He cast a glance at the stack of case notes and witness statements on his desk, next to yet another cold and unappealing candlelit supper his valet had left out for him and allowed himself a pitying groan. There was at least another hour’s work there, perhaps two, before he could even consider heading to his bed.

There was no doubt this was the biggest case of his career. For over a year, the King’s Elite had been seeking the criminal mastermind behind a dangerous smuggling ring. A few weeks ago, they had finally found the person and, as the appointed Crown Prosecutor, Hadleigh’s current and enormous quest for justice had truly started. The infamous, well-connected and dangerous Boss, who had been the scourge of the hallowed halls of Westminster as well as turning more peers than the odious Viscount Penhurst traitor, had finally been unmasked and arrested. And to everyone’s shock, including Hadleigh’s, the man they had been seeking was in fact a woman.

Viscountess Gislingham was now safely under lock and key in the most secure prison in the country—the Tower of London. Six other peers were similarly incarcerated in Newgate. It was Hadleigh’s job to build a watertight case against her and her fellow traitors so they could crush that evil smuggling ring once and for all. Months of painstaking work lay ahead of him, work that would need his full attention. Already Lady Penhurst had occupied far too much of it, when he desperately needed his rest and was tired of mulling over and fretting about her situation. Paying her debts had been an act of charity to himself as well as to her. How was he supposed to be on top form when he spent night after night tossing and turning? Dreaming of knotted handkerchiefs, proudly set shoulders and pretty blue eyes swirling with heart-wrenching emotion.

The question brought her image starkly into view and he ruthlessly banished it as he sat down.

Enough! She was not his problem!

This case was.

He tore a chunk of bread from the half-loaf near his elbow, sawed off a slice of ham and chewed both dispassionately as he reread the meticulous interrogation notes he had made only this morning during another interminable stint with the traitors at Newgate. Five were still pleading their innocence. One had broken and was blabbing everything he knew. Whether or not the information he had given was enough to justify lessening the man’s sentence was still in doubt. But in his experience, once a criminal committed to turning King’s evidence, they committed wholeheartedly. Tomorrow could be interesting, but he needed to be fully prepared.

Within minutes, Hadleigh was so engrossed, the sound of a fist pummelling his front door had him jumping out of his skin. People didn’t bang on his door. Especially not this close to midnight. One of the main reasons he continued to live in bachelor lodgings at the Albany, rather than his own house less than an hour’s carriage drive from the capital, was that there was always a porter at the main entrance to dissuade unwelcome visitors from calling at unsociable hours—or any hours, for that matter—and bothering him. That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. He was a solitary beast by nature, partly because his work made it difficult to have unguarded conversations with most people and partly because he had been on his own for so long he was used to it. The Albany, close to his work, made perfect sense. That haunted house down the road didn’t.

The fist bashed the door again, reminding him that Prescott, his valet, always took Thursday afternoons off and rarely returned before Friday morning. It also told him whoever was pummelling his woodwork with such vigour was probably known to the porter, hence he had been let in. Something important must have happened since he left chambers. ‘I’m coming!’

He had expected it to have something to do with the government, so was not surprised when he flung open the door and Seb Leatham strode in, looking furious.

‘What’s happened?’ Immediately his mind went to the prisoners and his case. Experience had taught them that The Boss’s smuggling gang had no respect for the law or its institutions. Viscount Penhurst and another conspirator, the Marquis of Deal, had been brutally murdered in their cells in Newgate a few days after their sentences had been issued in case they made any final confessions. The bloodthirsty crew of assassins had also ruthlessly sent three prison guards to meet their maker that same night. It had been a grim and stark reminder of exactly how powerful the group of criminals they were dealing with were. ‘Please tell me nobody else is dead!’

‘Not yet. But the night is young and as I’m royally furious I shan’t rule it out.’ His friend barged past him and stalked into the only room with a light burning—Hadleigh’s study. He tossed his hat on the desk, folded his meaty arms across his chest and glared.

‘I am not entirely sure I follow...’

‘I made allowances for the Bow Street Runner.’ Seb’s eyes bored into his, his tautly controlled stance quietly terrifying. ‘After everything she has suffered, and in light of the dangerous people her husband dealt with, I reasoned the more people who had eyes on her the better.’

He knew about the Bow Street Runner?

Oh, dear. All ideas of anonymously appeasing his niggling conscience with a secret act of charity swiftly disappeared. ‘This is about Lady Penhurst?’

‘You’re damn right this is about Penny!’ One pointed finger prodded him right in the breast bone. ‘What the hell were you thinking, paying her debts off like that?’

Confused that Seb had so swiftly traced it back to him and even more confused that the man was angry about his obvious thoughtful and noble generosity, Hadleigh grabbed the still-prodding digit and made a point of pushing it away. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I reasoned she would be pleased not to have to struggle to make ends meet after the Runner informed me she was struggling.’

‘Then clearly you don’t know Penny very well. And clearly you know nothing whatsoever about my wife!’ Seb began to pace, his hands waving in annoyance. ‘Good grief, man! Talk about taking a mallet to crack a nut! What were you thinking?’

‘After the Crown abandoned her, I was trying to help.’

‘Well, you’ve gone and made a splendid hash of it. What the hell am I going to tell Clarissa?’

‘As it was meant to be an anonymous gesture, you will tell her nothing, because it has nothing to do with her either.’

At that, Seb finally sat down with a huff in Hadleigh’s chair and shook his head. ‘Spoken like a true bachelor. Unfortunately, as it was Clarissa who expressly asked me to investigate her best friend’s mystery benefactor, and because your ham-fisted attempt at being a Good Samaritan has spectacularly served to scare the living daylights out of both women, I have no choice but to tell her.’

‘Why would they be scared?’

‘You really have no clue, do you? Which is exactly the reason why you should leave the spying and covert machinations to us trained spies and stick to barristering.’

‘I don’t think barristering is an actual word.’

‘And still you fiddle while Rome burns!’

‘The Devil is in the detail...’ Words he lived by. He was good with details, although clearly he had missed one here.

‘Shall I spell it out to you in simple terms?’ Seb did not wait for a response. ‘Firstly, think about the particular circumstances of your good deed. Only a few months ago, that poor woman’s vile husband was arrested on charges of treason. Your own investigation linked him to a whole host of unsavoury characters. Cutthroats. Smugglers. Cold-blooded murderers. When Penny testified against him, she testified against them, too. We assume we’ve rounded them all up now that we’ve captured the ringleader—but what if we haven’t? It is entirely reasonable to assume any stragglers might have an axe to grind with her. It is one of the main reasons I actively encouraged her to assume an alias!’ He stood then and began to pace. ‘Furthermore, in paying those debts covertly, you have also alerted a very proud and determined woman to the fact she is under close watch at all times.’

‘A gross exaggeration. The Bow Street Runner does not watch her at all times. He has quite specific instructions as I do not want to alert her to his presence.’

‘That I am well aware of. Fortunately, my Invisibles have had her on continuous watch since the moment her husband was first arrested.’ And hence the reason, no doubt, that Hadleigh’s generosity had been quickly traced back to him despite his best intentions of keeping his guilty secret. The Invisible branch of the King’s Elite specialised in blending into the background and watching unseen. Worse, the angry man in front of him had personally trained every last one of them. ‘However pragmatic, logical and well meaning it was meant to be, Penny is not going to take the news well. Not when we’ve had the devil of a job keeping her near us in London and not when she was constantly watched for years on her husband’s instruction. She is adamant she is entirely done with all that nonsense going forward. And who can blame her? You should have consulted with me!’

‘I do not answer to you, Leatham. Or Lord Fennimore. I answer to the Attorney General.’

‘Did you consult the Attorney General?’

Of course not. Had he have done, he would have been reprimanded for even considering helping a traitor’s wife. A barrister was supposed to keep his professional life entirely separate from his personal one. They wore wigs and gowns to avoid being recognised out of court by disgruntled receivers of justice or their families or being tracked down by the press and goaded into discussing cases. The Attorney General would take a very dim view of Hadleigh’s overwhelming urge to rescue the woman they had callously ruined with one stroke of a pen. ‘I wanted to help her.’

‘Then you went about it in a very poor manner and have undone months of work. I am actually tempted to strangle you!’

‘What work?’

‘For the first time in years, she has proper freedom and independence—and even though we know that independence comes courtesy of the pawn shop every month, it is still an achievement. A point of honour and pride. One that we will destroy the second she learns a whole host of people have been working behind the scenes to create the illusion she is coping perfectly well all on her own.’

‘She isn’t?’

‘I think she puts on a good front. She’s a good mother and seems to enjoy being mistress of her own house, but it worries Clarissa that she’s all alone. That bastard knocked all the confidence out of her and such things take a long time to heal, but that aside, she has nothing. She is nowhere near ready for the harsh realities of life yet, especially one she will be forced to start from scratch. Not that she’ll hear it. It’s almost as if she’s embarrassed by the situation she has been placed in and blames herself a great deal for it, when we all know she was a victim of cruel circumstance. Clarissa has been trying to support her to no avail. Penny point-blank refuses to live with us and is unbelievably stubborn about accepting what she sees as charity.

‘She has two perfectly good feet, apparently, and thinks it’s long past time she stood on them, regardless of her empty purse. London is expensive and she has a mind to move somewhere cheaper and far away from the ton before she is recognised. I can’t deny the risk of her true identity being revealed is greater here than anywhere else in the country. That worries me, of course, but if nothing else, here I can ensure she is safe and my wife can be there for her. Recently, she’s even started talking about seeking employment, for heaven’s sake, in a big house or school somewhere, so she’s clearly concerned about her future. Yet she is so proud she prefers to sell her mother’s jewellery to make ends meet. Again, something she has no idea we know or have blatantly interfered with. Thanks to you, she might discover Clarissa and I have surreptitiously been giving her money all along.’

‘You have?’

‘Of course we have! We couldn’t see her struggle! Penhurst sold everything her parents left her of value. Those trinkets she sells every month are pinchbeck and paste at best and all of them in total would barely have raised enough to scrape six months’ rent. I’ve been bribing the pawnbroker to give her an excellent price for them to keep her from leaving any time soon.’

‘Ah.’ Hadleigh would not mention he had paid more than market worth to buy them back each month. He was going to have stern words with that wily, conniving pawnbroker on the morrow.

‘Ah, indeed. I dread to think how she will react if she ever finds out how Clarissa and I have been quietly interfering.’ Seb let out a long, laboured breath. ‘That’s not true. I know exactly what she’ll do. She’ll feel betrayed and she’ll leave. To go and stand on her own two feet. One lone, proud woman with nothing bar a small child, no money and a past that could come back to bite her at every turn. Believe me, the world is a hard place for a woman like that...’ Seb’s broad shoulders seemed to deflate as he exhaled.

‘Which brings me to my final point, the most sensitive and delicate of all the points, and one which a sad bachelor like yourself will have little experience of—my wife trusted me to find Penny’s mystery benefactor.’ Seb slapped his own chest hard. ‘She trusted me! Knowing that I would sort it quickly and make it right. Put poor Penny’s mind at ease and stop her fleeing out of the sphere of our covert and careful protection. Your actions could destroy months of our good work, a lifelong friendship and ultimately leave Penny vulnerable. So, you see, I have to report it all back to Clarissa tonight. I made a promise.’

Yes, perhaps Hadleigh had unintentionally made a delicate situation worse, but Seb was being overdramatic about it. ‘Surely you don’t have to report everything back to Clarissa? Be selective. Lie if need be. Isn’t that what spies excel at? You lie for a living.’

Seb smiled winsomely, his eyes softening for the first time since he had stormed into the place uninvited. ‘That I do—but I would never lie to my wife. She is my everything.’

Hadleigh wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t. Seb was newly married and still head over heels in love. It was all a bit bizarre and he didn’t understand it. Apart from his mother growing up, he had managed to sidestep any emotional attachments or strong bonds in his life. Largely because emotions in general made him uncomfortable, especially his own. He kept friends at a polite distance, too, preferring the reassuring company of his work more. He could socialise and enjoy it, he didn’t suffer from a lack of confidence or shyness around people as Seb did, yet he was still always oddly relieved when a gathering came to an end so he could retreat back into his own space again. Even his sporadic and discreet affairs were with women who were wedded to their independence. Getting too close to anyone made him uncomfortable.

He had always been the same. A little detached. Naturally solitary. A typical only child, he supposed. Lonely. Where had that thought come from? Good grief, he needed some proper sleep. ‘Then tell Clarissa the truth and have her lie to her friend. I meant well and I have no intention of taking the money back when she obviously needs it.’ That route would only lead to more tossing and turning and vivid dreams involving soulful blue eyes, when he needed to be on top form till this trial was over.

‘You have placed me in an impossible position.’ His friend raked his hand through his hair in agitation. ‘I’ll be honest and say, I cannot promise Clarissa will not unmask you. She and Penny are very close and Penny is very upset. Ultimately, we will do what is best for Penny and continue to do whatever it takes to keep her close by.’

‘I understand.’ At least he thought he did. Seb didn’t want Lady Penhurst to know he was protecting her. Hadleigh could sleep better knowing that someone was. ‘If you think it would help, I am happy to tell her it was all down to me if it comes to it.’ Which he sincerely hoped it wouldn’t. Her poignant expression and sorrowful eyes outside the pawnshop this morning had haunted all his waking thoughts since. Given the strange hold the woman seemed to have over him, meeting her again, actually conversing with her, was exceedingly unwise.

‘That should keep your own machinations on the lady’s behalf out of it.’ Not ideal, but he could see he had rather put Seb in an awkward and potentially untenable situation. And he didn’t want to be the cause of Lady Penhurst either fleeing the safety of their care or taking menial work which was beneath her. That, certainly, had never been his intention. But then, neither had he intended to ever have to speak to her. A conversation which was bound to be awkward, all things considered. Definitely unprofessional in the extreme. He had prosecuted her husband, for pity’s sake! ‘Perhaps once I explain my actions were borne out of genuine concern, based on irrefutable fact—’ alongside an unhealthy and guilt-fuelled obsession with her ‘—I am hopeful she will see sense and accept the gift in the spirit in which it was intended. Clearly the woman needs help.’

He used reason for a living. If it came to it, once he stated his case, plainly, and backed it with logical evidence, the truth would become apparent. Failing that, he would use the quick wits he had been blessed with and his innate ability to read people to convince her to accept his financial help. She shouldn’t have to struggle alone. Not when he could easily right that wrong at the very least.

‘And clearly, my learned friend, you don’t know much about women if you think that will be the outcome.’ Seb appeared amused as well as appeased as he walked to the door. ‘But I shall pass all this on to Clarissa and see what she thinks. As long as it keeps both of us above suspicion and still allows me to keep a vigilant eye on Penny, I am more than happy for you to suffer all the consequences.’