Lord Ashford's Wager (20 page)

He walked back to Clarges Street and wondered how he could find out on whom the Runner was calling. It had to be business, because Naylor was unlikely to be paying social calls in this neighborhood.

* * * *

While Drabble was waiting, Gideon was giving Tony the good news.

“You actually found him, Naylor? Sit down, sit down and have a cup of tea with me.”

“No, thank you, my lord. I’ve had my breakfast already,” said Gideon, pulling up a chair.

“Did Jim confirm my story?” asked Tony eagerly.

“Yes, my lord. In fact, I have a signed statement from him right here in my pocket.”

“Which you will give to the magistrate immediately, I hope.”

“Well, my lord, that is why I am here. You are in no immediate danger of being picked up again. At least not until after the will is read,” Naylor amended. “I don’t want it generally known that the footman has been found.”

“Why not?” demanded Tony.

“Because he may be in danger. I persuaded him to write this statement by appealing to his sense of justice. He did not want to have an innocent man convicted. But I have a very strong feeling that he knows who the guilty man is and is hiding from him.”

“Didn’t you question him? Surely you can make him tell you. You must have methods of getting people to talk.” Tony didn’t feel so desperate now that Naylor had found someone to confirm his story, but he was anxious to find out the whole truth. Only finding the murderer would avenge Claudia’s death and clear him completely in the eyes of society.

“We all have our preferred methods, my lord,” Gideon answered. “I adjust mine to the circumstances. And the person.”

“So I have heard. ‘Mild with the mild, terrible with the terrible.’ ”

Gideon smiled. “Jim does not need to be terrified. He already is. No, I will go back tomorrow and make sure he is still safe and ask a few more questions.”

“Where
did
you find him?”

“He is employed as a footman in a bawdy house, my lord.”

Tony choked on his muffin. “How ever did you discover that?” he asked, after the paroxysm of coughing had stopped.

“You could say I have my sources, my lord,” Gideon replied with a quick grin.

“I see,” Tony said with a smile. “Maybe I should meet your sources, Naylor. Just to see if they are reliable, of course.”

“I am sure you have your own, er, sources, my lord, in far better neighborhoods.”

“Yes, but I must confess that I have been short on both money and desire lately.”

“I know what that can be like.”

“I miss Claudia, you know,” admitted Tony. “She was a good friend. Not,” he immediately added, “that she was anything more to me. I mean, I cared for her, but we had done nothing more than kiss. I must be overcome with relief, Naylor,” said Tony with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know why I am telling you all this. Except that I am lonely.”

“But you have another good friend in Lady Joanna.”

Tony sighed. “Yes, I do. But I have been avoiding her.”

Gideon looked puzzled.

“For her own sake. And perhaps a little bit for mine. I find I am beginning to see her differently.”

“How so, my lord?”

“Not just as a friend. But I am sure she feels nothing like that for me. I will just have to look up one of my own ‘sources.’ Then I will be less blue-deviled.”

Gideon, of course, was sure that friendship, no matter how deep, was not all that was behind Lady Joanna’s actions. But who was he to tell Lord Ashford that?

“I am off to Lady Joanna’s right now, as a matter of fact, to give her my report.”

“And that will be that. I can’t thank you enough, Naylor.

At least I am no longer in danger of hanging, even if half of society ignores me.”

“I have done what Lady Joanna hired me to do, my lord. But I hate to stop… I’d continue if…”

“If someone hired you to?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And how much do you charge, Naylor?”

“A guinea a week and expenses.”

“Well, I could afford that for a short while. Why don’t I hire you and see what you come up with before I return to Ashford? The least I can do for Claudia is try to find her murderer.”

“Thank you, my lord. I welcome the opportunity to continue my investigation.”

Tony put his hand out and Naylor shook it. “Good luck, Naylor.”

* * * *

Drabble, who was leaning against the fence across the street, watched Naylor come out. To his great relief, Naylor did not go near a cabstand, but proceeded to walk to Berkeley Square. He was clearly headed for another
ton
household. And when he stopped at Number 10, Drabble drew back into an alley as Naylor stood on the steps, waiting to be admitted.

* * * *

Joanna was delighted with Gideon’s news.

“This means that Tony is unequivocally cleared, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, my lady. As soon as I hand the statement over to the magistrates.”

“Which you will do today, I assume?”

Gideon explained his decision to delay and Joanna nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, I can see that you wish to protect your witness. And you think that he is concealing the identity of the real murderer?”

“I am sure, my lady.”

Joanna sat quietly for a moment and then looked over at Gideon. “Mr. Naylor, I would like you to continue working for me…for us. That is, I am sure my father will agree that we shouldn’t end the investigation until we have found the guilty man.”

“I would like to accommodate you, my lady, but I have already been retained by someone else.”

“Oh, no, you can’t give this up now that you are so close,” protested Joanna.

“Well, I am not exactly giving up, my lady,” Gideon told her. “It is Lord Ashford who has hired me.”

“Tony?”

“Yes. I believe he feels very strongly about bringing Lady Claudia’s murderer to justice.”

“Of course,” said Joanna, after a moment. “And I suppose it is more fitting. I am just…surprised. I didn’t think he had the money.”

“The money Lady Fairhaven had given him was returned to him upon his release.”

“Of course.” Joanna thanked Gideon for his efforts, insisted on giving him a guinea bonus, and wished him well in his further investigation. After he left, she found herself standing before the French doors that opened onto their small garden. If she was so pleased that Tony had been vindicated, why was she feeling so disappointed? It had felt good to be able to do something for Tony. Now that special connection with him was broken. She hadn’t done it to gain his attention and gratitude, of course, but they had been the by-products of her action, nevertheless. Now she would resume her place in the background of his life. And Claudia was still somehow in the forefront…

How despicable, she told herself, to resent a dead woman. And how uncharacteristic of Tony to take on a responsibility like that. She was as surprised as disappointed. Joanna was nothing if not as honest with herself as she was with others. She was always bemoaning the fact that Tony only saw her as his steadfast, commonsensical old friend Joanna. But how had she been viewing him? It seemed that she had only allowed him a limited role. He was the volatile, dashing, risk-taking soldier. Responsible in his chosen career, but incapable of settling down and assuming everyday responsibilities. And for years she had been infatuated by and critical of that Tony Varden.

But this Tony was taking things out of her hands and into his. She should be pleased, shouldn’t she? Then why did she feel that her world was beginning to shift?

Gideon had decided that half his bonus would be well spent on a round of drinks for his friends, a good dinner, and a night in the arms of Annie or Grace. Drabble followed him home and a few hours later watched him emerge in his second-best suit of clothes and walk to the Garrick’s Head. Drabble took a table in a dark corner, and ordered himself something to eat and drink as well, since it looked as if Naylor would be there for a while. This part of the job was not burdensome, he thought, as he sniffled and use the napkin as a handkerchief.

At some point in the evening, when the drinks had been flowing for an hour or so, one of the actors leaned over the table and tugged at Gideon’s sleeve.

“Gideon, my love, mark that weasel-faced bloke in the corner. Now he would be a fine character for you to assume someday. Sniffling and snuffling around with that long nose of his.” Bob, who was more than a little cast away, slid his hand down Gideon’s arm and grasped him by the hand. He looked up at Gideon with bleary eyes and said: “Ah, and would that you were my love, Gideon.”

Gideon smiled. About every three months, Bob would get very drunk and confess his attraction. Gideon would give him a sweet smile, repeat his unfortunate, in this instance, predilection for the female of the species, Bob would shed a few tears and then fall asleep at the table.

“Wouldn’t you think he would have given this over by now,” said one of Bob’s friends. “Good thing you don’t get put off by it, Gideon.”

“I don’t mind.” Nor did he. Gideon figured affection and good fellowship were hard to come by in his world, or in any world, for that matter. He knew Bob’s little ritual was only that, and hardly a sign of a broken heart. Gideon’s best friend in the 47th Foot had preferred men, and it had never presented a problem, either in their friendship or their soldiering.

He got up shortly thereafter and bade them all good-bye. “I am off, boys. I wish you luck tomorrow. I am sure a part is certain to turn up.” This was Gideon’s little ritual, to wish his friends employment. Not that they regularly found it, of course. The group at the Garrick’s Head was continuously shifting, as one actor was hired and another let go.

He was feeling very mellow tonight and strolled slowly and seemingly unconsciously through the streets. No matter how much he had drunk, however, he never lost his sensitivity to his surroundings. He turned several times, thinking he had heard someone behind him, but decided it was only a rat scurrying away.

Mrs. Doyle greeted him and told him it would be Annie again tonight, since Grace was otherwise occupied. “But it will be a short night, Gideon, given the hour and the fact that Annie has an early-morning customer.”

Maybe it was because he had to leave sooner than he would have liked, or maybe it was because he had had more to drink than usual, but Gideon found himself noticing the practical efficiency of Annie’s lovemaking. Usually he was taken with her blowzy blond charms, but this night he found himself wondering what it would be like to have the ever so businesslike Mrs. Blisse Spencer in bed with him. He laughed at himself. Mrs. Spencer was clearly a hard-eyed businesswoman, and no doubt would be even more efficient than Annie. But the memory of her soft, full mouth kept intruding, and he decided that he needed to check on Jim’s safety very soon. Maybe even tomorrow night.

* * * *

The next morning, during a late breakfast, Gideon decided that another visit to Lord Fairhaven was in order. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that despite Fairhaven’s sizable fortune, he was the most likely suspect. As he drank his coffee, he let his mind relax and tried to imagine what it would be like to be Mark Halesworth. He had been his cousin’s closest male relative, in line for both title and fortune for years. Since the late Lord Fairhaven had not married until he was forty-seven, Mark must have grown up expecting both as his due. And then, suddenly, the marriage to Lady Claudia and the possibility of an heir. He would have watched and waited and perhaps even hated Lady Fairhaven. And when no heir seemed to be forthcoming, wouldn’t he have started to hope again? After his cousin’s will, he must have at least considered the possibility of marriage with the widow. Then along came Tony Varden. Lord Fairhaven had the title, but he most certainly would have finally lost the fortune forever, had Lady Fairhaven remarried and had children.

It was an odd thing, thought Gideon, as he came out of his reverie. To the judges and to most observers, Tony Varden had the strongest motive because he was in such desperate need for immediate funds. It seemed obvious: the man most in need was the man who would be driven to crime, which was certainly often true. But Gideon had seen too much in his years as a Runner to dismiss the effect
having
money had on some people. Sometimes more than enough was never enough. Poverty and desperation bred crime. But so did greed.

* * * *

He was made to wait almost an hour this time before Mark would see him, and when he was admitted, Fairhaven showed some resentment at being questioned again.

“Sit down, Naylor. I don’t have much time for you today, but then, I can’t imagine what more you want from me.”

“I just thought I would stop in and see if you had heard anything from our young footman, my lord,” answered Gideon.

“Nothing. And I am not sure why you would expect me to,” replied Mark impatiently.

“You are, after all, his employer.”

“Was, Naylor, was.”

“You would not take the young man back as a clerk, then, my lord?”

“Not after his desertion, no. But as I said before, Naylor, I doubt that he will even come back. He is out of the city now, or dead, I am sure of it.”

“Well, well, you may be right, my lord. But I am going to put a bit more of my time into it, nevertheless.”

Halesworth got up, and as he walked to the door, gave a less-than-heartfelt apology for the fact that he was going to have to see Gideon out, and wished him luck.

Gideon sauntered out of the building, very satisfied with himself. If Fairhaven were guilty, then the knowledge that Gideon was still looking for Jim should nudge him into action.

* * * *

Indeed, Mark was very eager to finish up his business for the day and get down to the pub to meet Drabble.

Drabble was late, but explained that he hadn’t wanted to leave Naylor until he seemed settled into the Garrick’s Head for the evening.

“Has he found anything yet?”

“Not that Oi can see, m’lord. ‘E’s visited two ‘ouses in Mayfair.”

“Whose?”

“Oi was able to discover that one was Lord Ashford’s and the other Lord Barrand’s.”