Deadly Engagement: A Georgian Historical Mystery (Alec Halsey Crimance) (38 page)

Plantagenet Halsey opened his mouth then closed it. He wanted to launch into a lecture against his class, against the toad-eating lot of ’em with their insufferable, conceited pomposity. But there was too much truth in what the Duchess said. When all was said and done he knew only too well what society demanded and what it could do for a man socially. After all, hadn’t he been born one of them? And if he was honest with himself he was more than willing to swallow his pride and sacrifice his principles if it meant saving Alec’s character and career from society’s censure. No one, nothing, meant more to him than Alec.

He rubbed his chin. “Thing is,” he said, “why is Gervais so determined to see this through? The man’s a toad-eatin’ buffoon. If anythin’ you’d think your threat about the Privy Council would be enough to have him snivellin’ at your fingertips. Don’t tell me he’s a stickler for the law; not if it means bringin’ social ruin on himself. And that’s what will happen once you’ve whispered in the right ear. And he must know that. So, what’s he got to gain by stickin’ his neck out, eh? Tell me that!”

The Duchess stared at him as if he had said something profound. “I have no idea.”

“But I do,” said Alec. He leaned in the doorway, a colorful banyan hanging loose about his shoulders and supported at one elbow by Tam, who helped him to a chair.

“Now what’s this foolishness?” the old man demanded.

“You should be in bed!” added the Duchess

“I’m not as bad as all that,” Alec said quietly. “It’s just this infernal headache.” He looked at them both. “But it’s a little better knowing you haven’t disowned me.”

“Oh, be quiet!” demanded the Duchess gruffly. “When all’s said and done, no one is more pleased that you and Selina have the opportunity to begin anew.”

Alec swallowed. “Olivia, about Emily… You have every right to think me a fickle cad.”

“Nonsense!” she said stridently and would have said more except Tam came back into the room, carrying a tray holding a bottle of wine and three glasses. One glass was already poured and this he handed to Alec before offering wine to the old man and the Duchess.

“Mr. Neave says there’s a Mr. Yarrborough downstairs who wishes to speak with Mr. Halsey,” Tam told them. “Mr. Neave wants to know if he should send him away until—”

“No. Send him up,” said Alec, settling gingerly against the upholstery and drank deeply from the glass of wine for his throat was tinder dry and his head was beginning to throb unbearably.

With Tam gone, Plantagenet Halsey turned to his nephew with a frown. “If you’re determined to be foolish and see this Yarrborough fellow mayhap you can tell us why Gallows Gervais wants you prosecuted.”

“I do believe he hopes to deflect suspicion away from himself. But why he thinks accusing me of Tremarton’s murder will make a difference to his guilt, I know not!” He opened his eyes to look at his uncle and then his godmother. It was obvious both were no wiser. “I sent for Yarrborough because I suspect Gervais was the judge who had Dobbs hanged.”

The old man rubbed his chin. “Not a coincidence that. Am I right?”

“No. If my suspicions prove correct then I should think Gervais was only too willing to close down the brothel and hang Dobbs if only to extract his brother-in-law from certain scandal.” He closed his eyes again. “And before this throbbing forces me to give in to Tam’s demands that I take an opiate, I must tell you both that my mother did indeed write letters of confession to Lady Margaret Belsay. I found them, or I should say, selected pages of two letters from Lady Delvin to Lady Margaret, on Tremarton’s body. It seems Cosmo was right all along.”

Plantagenet Halsey gave an impatient grunt of disbelief. “Who’s to say Tremarton didn’t fabricate—”

“For your information, Mr. Halsey,” the Duchess began, “I, for one, don’t believe Margaret Belsay a liar. So if she says Helen Delvin wrote her—”

“Please, Olivia,” interrupted Alec and slowly turned his throbbing head to look at his uncle. “The pages were in my mother’s fist. Perhaps it is time you stopped protecting me from the truth, however terrible. In his rage, Delvin called me a half-breed bastard.”

“Idiotic rot!” blustered the old man. “Delvin would call you a Chinaman if he thought it would stick!”

“But the Countess of Delvin didn’t have an affair with a Chinaman, did she, Uncle?”

Plantagenet Halsey shook his head. “No. Not a Chinaman… Did her letters give you a name, my boy?”

“She confesses to the fact I am her firstborn and to being an adulteress, but as to the name of my father, no,” said Alec, a glance at the Duchess who was looking at her hands in her lap. “Perhaps in the pages that are missing she goes further. I was hoping you could save me the search…?”

Planagenet Halsey gripped Alec’s wrist momentarily as he went to the unshuttered window. He bowed his head to the light and said with a frown, “I would dearly love to tell you that I am your father, but I was never your mother’s lover. There was a time when I wished I had owned up to it, if only to save you a lifetime of uncertainty. You were indeed your mother’s firstborn son and you were born in wedlock; legally you were the Earl of Delvin’s heir but—in good conscience—Helen and I, in whom she confided her predicament, could not present you to my brother as his.”

“Conscience?
Damn
your conscience, sir!” the Duchess burst out. “It is
your
conscience that has robbed Alec of his birthright!”

“Olivia—”

“Had Helen kept her mouth shut no one would’ve been the wiser,” she continued, ignoring Alec’s quiet interjection. “Whose to say Alec isn’t the Earl’s son? Did Helen tell you otherwise? Did she tell you her lover’s name? Did she have any idea to whom she conceived, her husband or her lover? No! And because of your-your
conscience
and Helen’s
guilt
, a brute and a fiend, who in all probability is mad, is parading around as my lord Delvin! How can you reconcile
that
with your conscience?”

“Olivia, it has never bothered me that Edward was raised as heir to the earldom,” Alec said on a tired sigh. “He is my brother. That he was born after me is neither here nor there. You don’t seem to understand—”

“Yes I do!” she said as she resumed her seat and patted tears from her eyes. “You are much too kind-hearted to want to hurt your uncle’s feelings. He raised you in the mistaken belief that it is your abilities, and how you use those abilities that makes you who you are; not fate, not luck of birth. But that’s absolute rot! Society doesn’t work that way. As the Earl of Delvin you could accomplish much more than you ever will as a junior minister crawling your way up the diplomatic ladder on your merit!” She threw the old man a sullen look. “And no one knows that better than your uncle.”

“And had the situation been reversed?” Alec asked quietly. “Had I been in Delvin’s place and he in mine, would you still be of the same mind?” When the Duchess looked away, Alec smiled and closed his eyes. “I at least can sleep easy at night knowing all that I have, all that I am, is rightfully mine.”

The old man lightly touched Alec’s shoulder. “I did what I thought was right, my boy,” he said with none of his usual bombastic self-confidence. “Truth told: You could very well be the Earl of Delvin’s firstborn.”

Alec touched his uncle’s hand. “I know you too well, Uncle. If you truly believed I was heir to the earldom you’d have fought until your last breath to have me acknowledged, but as you did not—”

“Alec!”

“—who I am remains blanketed in fog. Come in, Tam. Where’s Yarrborough?”

“He didn’t stay, sir,” Tam replied. “Lord Gervais spoke with him and took the packet—”

“Damn him!” Alec interrupted. “Then it is as I suspected. Tam, the frockcoat I had at the Grove, in the outerpocket there are my spectacles and with them is an envelope. Fetch it.” He closed his eyes for a curious sensation had come over him. He felt it wash through him, warm and comforting. And the pain: the thud at his temples and at the base of his neck; the burning feeling down his back all began to melt away to some nether region in the recesses of his mind. He felt as if he was floating in cool water. “Tam put something in my drink…” he muttered.

Plantagenet Halsey wasn’t quick enough to catch the glass before it fell and splashed the last of the burgundy over the carpet at Alec’s feet. “You’ll feel better for a good rest, my boy.”

“Too much—to tell. Can’t rest now. Must confront Gervais… That letter. Don’t let Tam…”

“All in good time,” soothed his uncle and called to Tam. “Whatever did you give him?”

“A measured dose of laudanum mixed with wine, sir,” answered the valet as he helped the old man manage Alec to the bedroom.

“Well, it’s done the trick! Now let’s get him into bed.”

Tam glanced at the Duchess who had followed them into the bedchamber and was standing beside the four-poster bed frowning at Alec’s limp form. “Please, your Grace, we need to put Mr. Halsey to bed.”

“I know that!” she snapped, little realizing that what the valet meant was that his master needed to be undressed before he was put between the sheets. When she continued to stand there it was left to the old man to tell her, and tell her bluntly. “Oh!” She made to leave hastily then stopped and put out her hand to Tam. “The letter. Give it to me.”

Tam blinked and held out his master’s gold rimmed spectacles. “I found only these in a pocket of Mr. Halsey’s frockcoat, your Grace. The letter, it’s gone.”

Sir Cosmo found Selina on the stairs leading to that part of the house where the unmarried male guests had their rooms. He had no need to guess where she was headed and wasn’t surprised when she was annoyed to be waylaid. Still, he had momentous news to share with her and it couldn’t wait.

“Have you seen him?” Selina asked before he had a chance to speak. “Has a physician been sent for? Are those thugs still outside his rooms? What is the Duchess doing about Gervais?”

“My dear, he’s in good hands. His valet was an apothecary. I’m sure he’s getting excellent care and—”

“But you don’t know! You’ve not seen him,” she said and turned to leave.

“Listen to me, Selina!” Sir Cosmo demanded and pulled her into a wood-paneled alcove. “Alec isn’t about to be dragged off to Newgate. The Runners, they’re being packed back to London as we speak; reason you were able to leave your rooms. The accusation against Alec has been withdrawn and Gervais can’t do a tester about it! That leaves me to deal with Delvin and I intend justice be served. You have my word on it.”

Selina viewed her friend with surprise that deepened into suspicion when Sir Cosmo’s assurance was accompanied by a smug grin of triumph. “What’s happened, Cosmo?”

He held out a yellowed sheaf of folded paper. “This, my dear girl, is the Countess of Delvin’s letter to Lady Margaret Belsay,” he declared and couldn’t help a bark of laughter when she snatched it and bent her fair head to the page. “Found it at the Grove in Alec’s frockcoat. I think you’ll find it confirms everything your aunt’s been saying about Alec and his brother. Certainly made Gervais dance to a different tune!”

Selina handed back the letter. “Where’s the rest of it?”

Sir Cosmo deflated. “My guess is Alec has it elsewhere. He don’t need more than what’s written there to convince anyone he’s the rightful earl and his brother’s a fraud! Gervais certainly didn’t quibble. Just turned bright pink and then a deathly gray. Expect he realizes what an ass he’s made of himself.”

Selina’s frown remained. “But even if what you say is true, Cosmo, how would that convince Gervais to withdraw a charge of murder against Alec?”

“He didn’t withdraw it. His wife did. She made the accusation in the first place and my guess is, under duress. No doubt as soon as she realized Ned ain’t the rightful earl she felt less inclined to his way of thinking. And as the rightful Earl of Delvin, Alec can only be tried by his peers. The Lords, my dear. Not by the common law courts. Not Gervais’ jurisdiction. He had to see that if he persisted with this nonsensical accusation he’d only get himself in hotter water. Still not pleased with my efforts, my dear?”

“Of course!” she said, forcing a smile. Yet she still looked troubled. “Have you shown this letter to Delvin?”

“Haven’t had the opportunity. He had the nerve to show himself at nuncheon as if all was right with the world. Of course those of us in the know put a brave face on the meal for the sake of the Duchess and her unsuspecting guests. But no one had an appetite, knowing Ned had attacked his own brother. For what it’s worth, Ned scares me, Selina. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he murdered—”

The sentence went unfinished and Selina watched in horrified silence as Sir Cosmo’s eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled with a heavy thud, lifeless, to the floorboards. Standing over him was the Earl of Delvin. He pointed a pistol at Selina.

“You’re coming with me,
Gypsy
,” he ordered, and before she could run had her by the wrist. He pulled her hard against his side. “You’re going to get me the Ganymede ledger and then you have some explaining to do!”

It wasn’t the greyhounds curled up by the bedchamber fireplace who woke Alec from a deep, dreamless sleep, but the loud hiss of a voice in his left ear commanding him to wake up. It took Alec a few moments to realize he was not dreaming, and then even longer to force himself awake from the depths of a drug-induced sleep that left his limbs weak and his thoughts clouded and confused. There was the unmistakable smell of stale cheroots as he was helped up by a strong arm. He was let go once he was steady on his feet. Alec was grateful for one thing; the agonizing pain in his neck and head had disappeared, leaving him with only the dull sting from the lacerations to his bruised back.

Something brushed his legs. It was his greyhounds, come to stand protectively between him and the intruder who leveled a pistol at their master. Alec called them to heel and reluctantly they obeyed, though they continued to growl.

“Going to shoot me?” he asked sluggishly.

Lord Andrew Macara chuckled, showing large tobacco stained teeth and placed the pistol on the bureau. “At the moment it don’t do to wander about this place unarmed.” He watched Alec brush the hair back off his face. “Lord, man, you’ll never advance in the Foreign Department with hair as long as a savage’s! Not quite the thing is it, what?”