Dark Angel (57 page)

Granby was sitting in a deep leather chair, his head erect
his face pale and without sign of life. He might have taken the place of one of the marble busts that stood at intervals along the hall. Across from him Anandale sat in a matching chair, his shoulders hunched and his anguish declared in every feature. Both men looked around as Edward and Adam entered the room.

"I covered him with a blanket," Anandale said. "It seemed only decent."

"Thank you, Uncle Hugo. I've sent Benson for the doctor. He'll have to certify to the death."

Anandale threw his head back against the chair. "God's blood, will it be long?"

"I'm afraid so. Lord Sheriton's been shot and needs attention."

"Sheriton?" Granby's face lost its marble cast. "What the devil is he doing here?"

Edward's mouth twisted. "It was his carriage that Talbot's man took when he brought Caroline here. I daresay Sheriton wanted his cattle back."

Anandale was now sitting upright, his face a mask of surprise. "Who shot him?"

"Colborne. Talbot's batman. He was playing nursemaid to Caroline's daughter and a woman who'd been traveling with her. Sheriton probably guessed that Talbot would take the women to the cottage. Colborne must have taken exception to his intervention."

"Good God."

"Where is Colborne now?" Granby's voice was sharp.

"At the cottage still. He's wounded as well. Not badly, I suspect. Durward's friend Plumb was trying to rescue the woman and child."

Granby and Anandale seemed to become aware of Adam's presence, but Edward's voice reclaimed their attention. "I've also sent for Sir Roger." Sir Roger Nelkin, Edward had told Adam, was the local magistrate and an old friend of the family.

Granby's eyes widened. "Was that necessary?"

Edward erupted. "Good God, sir, of course it was. What did you expect us to do? Dig a hole and tip him into it?"

"Edward!" Anandale was outraged.

Edward ignored him. "Pretend it hasn't happened? Pretend he's never been? We can't do it. There'll be questions. There'll be inquiries. Talbot can't disappear off the face of the earth. He'll be with us always."

His anger sated, Edward sank down into a chair as though his legs would no longer support him.

Granby closed his eyes. "You're right. Talbot's mind was unsound. The duel can be explained, but he tried to shoot Caroline. I couldn't allow that."

"No, Father, you couldn't."

A clock on the mantelpiece ticked away the silence. Granby stared straight before him. Adam watched the three men, remembering Talbot's words before he died. Everything began to be clear.

He walked forward, close enough so Granby had to acknowledge his presence. "You knew, didn't you," Adam said, "you knew from the beginning. From the moment Jared was discovered. How did it happen? Did Talbot come to you and tell you he was implicated?"

Granby raised his eyes. His face betrayed no emotion.

"Yes, I think that's the way it was," Adam went on. "Leighton could link Talbot to Jared. The scandal was bad enough as it was. So Leighton had to be kept quiet. He should have been discharged. He was allowed to resign his commission instead. You have influence, sir. But Leighton naturally wanted more, and you've been paying him ever since."

Anandale sat up abruptly. "Durward," he said unsteadily. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I think I do. Leighton told me Talbot paid him, but he hesitated when he said it. Talbot had no money. You'd never have done it yourself. It had to be Lord Granby."

"No:" Anandale sank back into his chair. Edward said nothing at all, but his eyes were fixed on his father and his face was white with dismay.

Adam turned back to Granby. "A genteel bribe. Understandable. But there's more, isn't there? There's the question of Lord Silbury. You knew about that too, didn't you? That was the real problem. Treason. Not a pretty word. Not a word that should taint the Rawley family. Not a word that should smirch the career of an important politician."

"For God's sake, Durward." Edward was on his feet. "That's the vilest slander."

"Yes, it is," Adam conceded. "And I have no proof. The Home Office were about to indict Silbury. That much I know. Then some papers went missing and Silbury had time to flee the country. That left Talbot safe."

Edward's mouth tightened. "You're saying my father allowed a known spy to escape capture?"

"Ask him."

Edward strode to Granby's chair and looked down at him. "Deny it, sir."

Granby looked up at his son. The ghost of a smile crossed his face and vanished. "Durward's a clever man."

"Oh, my God." Edward stared at his father as if seeing him for the first time. "The letter," he said suddenly. He looked at Adam. "Jared sent my father a letter after he was wounded. One of his fellow soldiers brought it back from Spain and sent it on to us. Father would never let the rest of us see it. He said it was personal. I don't think he even showed it to Caroline when she came to see him."

Edward turned back to his father. "Jared wrote to tell you Talbot had been involved in the fraud, didn't he? He thought you knew nothing about it. And you wrote to Talbot and warned him Jared was likely to make a deathbed confession. That's why Talbot sent those men after Caroline. Did you tell him to do that too?"

"No!" Granby's voice was suddenly sharp. "I admit nothing, of course," he added after a moment, with more energy than he had shown since Talbot had fallen.

Adam smiled. "And nothing can be proved. I only wanted the truth. Tell me, sir, as a matter of curiosity. You aimed the pistol at me. You shot Talbot. Whom were you protecting? Caroline? Or yourself?"

Granby's eyes looked pained. Then he shook his head. "Who can know? Be careful, Durward. You can stretch truth too far."

Chapter Twenty-six

Lord Castlereagh clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and looked at Adam. "In view of Stuart's letter on your behalf and other—ah—recent developments, it goes without saying that you are cleared of all charges made against you, Durward." He paused and cleared his throat. "On behalf of the Government, I owe you an apology."

"Thank you, sir." Adam suppressed a smile. Castlereagh, he knew, was not accustomed to apologizing for being wrong, but he was a fair man and willing to admit his mistakes.

"It's been a sad business all round," Castlereagh said with a sigh. "I'm sure we're all eager to put it behind us. Colonel Rawley is dead and there is no point in upsetting the family with a public airing of his crimes."

"Quite so," Adam said, a faint trace of irony in his voice. He suspected the Government's wish to keep the matter quiet had as much to do with their own desire to avoid a scandal as with concern for the Rawley family. In the two days since Talbot's death, Adam had written up a report of his own investigation, which he had submitted to Castlereagh as well as to the Master-General of Ordnance and the Home Secretary. The report included the attacks on Caroline, Leighton's confession about Talbot's role in the fraud, Adam's conclusions about Talbot's link to Silbury, and the events at Shepton, but Adam had said nothing about Lord Granby, whose role in the affair was pure conjecture. It seemed better to leave Granby's fate in the hands of his son and brother.

"I have written to Stuart and Wellington telling them to disregard the letters I sent about Colonel Rawley's accusations against you and commending your role in the affair," Castlereagh continued. He unclasped his hands and laid them palm down on the desk. "I owe you a favor, Durward."

There was reluctance in his voice, but also a grudging note of respect. Adam smiled. "I'll remember that, sir."

Castlereagh looked at him fixedly for a moment, then gave a faint smile of acknowledgement. "We're going to need able diplomats when the war ends. A man of your talents should go far if you don't mind taking up less adventurous activities."

"Mind?" Adam laughed. "Hardly."

"I suspected your thoughts might be turning in a more domestic direction." Castlereagh settled back in his chair. "Farnwood tells me you're to marry Mrs. Rawley."

Any amusement Adam had felt was wiped away. He swallowed, tasting his own fear and doubt. "Yes," he said. It seemed an inadequate response, but Adam was not sure what else he could safely say. Since their return from Shepton, he had scarcely spoken to Caroline in private. In fact, he had been avoiding it, for he knew there was one conversation they must have, one conversation which could send his fragile hopes for the future crashing to bits.

"It's nice to know some good has come out of all this," Castlereagh said. "I trust Mrs. Rawley and her daughter are recovered from their unfortunate ordeal?"

"To all outward appearances. Mrs. Rawley is a strong woman and her daughter takes after her." When Adam had left the house that morning, Caroline, Emily, and Elena had been setting out to visit Sheriton, who was still confined to a sick room. Adam felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of what Sheriton might be saying to Caroline and how he might be looking at her.

"You mean to be married before you return to Lisbon?" Castlereagh asked.

Adam hesitated. "I expect so. We haven't had a chance to think of the future."

"Oh, well, plenty of time for that. I'm sure Stuart won't mind if you want to take time for a short honeymoon. It's the sort of thing he'd understand." Castlereagh smiled dryly. "Honeymoons, that is. I'm less sure he appreciates the married state."

Adam managed to smile in response.

"I wish you every happiness, Durward," Castlereagh said, a more serious look on his face. "And the bride as well."

Adam thanked him, aware of a leaden feeling in the vicinity of his heart. He was out of the building and walking down the street before he realized it was dread.

"When can Sherry walk around again?" Emily asked as the Wellstone carriage made its way through the maze of London traffic back to Red Lion Square.

"In a few more days, I expect," Caroline told her. "He's getting better very quickly. Jack and Andy are taking good care of him."

"I wouldn't have thought they had it in them," Elena said. "It's amazing what the silliest young men can do when the occasion calls for it."

Emily regarded Elena solemnly. "I like Andy and Jack."

"So do I, pet," Elena told her. "Sometimes the silliest men are the nicest."

Emily frowned, puzzling this over. Caroline leaned back against the squabs and turned her face toward the warmth of the sunlight. Sherry was recovering, Emily was safe, the charges against Adam would be dropped. Yet a faint cloud of unease disturbed her happiness. For the past two days she could swear Adam had been avoiding her. The closeness they had found the night she agreed to be his wife might never have been. Of course the past two days had been busy for them both. Still, she longed for a look or a smile or a simple touch of the hand to signify that all was well between them. These past two nights she had ached to go to his bed. But though she had not hesitated to do so on their journey from Acquera, Adam's remoteness held her back. She lay awake at night, finding cold comfort in the memory of his embrace.

When they reached Red Lion Square, Caroline pushed these thoughts aside. She was not a young girl to be demanding constant devotion. Adam had a great deal on his mind. There would be time for them to talk later. Refusing to acknowledge her lingering fears, Caroline helped Emily down from the carriage.

Hawkins greeted them at the front door. "Couldn't stand to let you out of my sight another minute," he told Elena, pulling her into the hall and kissing her. "Both of you," he added, patting her stomach.

Elena made a face at him. Hawkins grinned, then turned to Caroline, his expression serious. "You've got visitors. I thought I should warn you. Farnwood and Lord Anandale. They're in the parlor with Mrs. Wellstone."

Caroline was surprised. She could understand Edward coming to apologize for his brother's behavior, but she hadn't thought Anandale would ever want to see her again. "I'd best go in," she said. "Emily—"

"Emily can come with us," Elena said. "We'll go down to the kitchen and persuade Mrs. Ainsley to give us something to eat."

Caroline watched them vanish through the door to the lower reaches of the house, Elena holding Emily's hand, Hawkins with his arm round Elena's shoulders. Then, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, she made her way down the hall to the parlor. The thought of facing Talbot's relatives brought back with full force the horror of two days ago.

She found Edward and Anandale making subdued conversation with Margaret. When greetings were done, Margaret got to her feet and said she would leave them to talk alone. As the door clicked shut behind her, Caroline regarded the two men. Both looked drawn and tired. There seemed to be lines in Edward's face that had not been present two days ago. Anandale carried himself with his usual military bearing, but he would not look at Caroline directly.

Feeling the need for warmth and light, Caroline moved to a chintz-covered chair in a patch of sun. Edward sank into a chair opposite her. Anandale declined to sit and instead walked to the windows and stood looking out at the garden, a frown on his face.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Edward cleared his throat. "Dolly said to give you her love and say she'll call soon," he told Caroline. "She's—she's rather had her hands full these past few days."

"This must be a dreadful time for all of you," Caroline said.

Edward gave a forced smile. "Dolly's borne up better than any of us. If it weren't for her I think the household would have fallen apart completely." He adjusted his cravat as if he felt the need for more air. "Your daughter is well? Mrs. Wellstone said so, but I had wondered—"

"Emily's fine," Caroline assured him. Feeling the need to occupy her hands, she began to draw off her gloves.

"I'm glad. When I think of one of my children—" Edward broke off, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

Looking at him seemed an invasion of privacy. Caroline lowered her gaze to the floor, aware of the sound of the birds in the garden and the way the sunlight showed the worn patches in the carpet.