Secret Night (33 page)

"Have you shown Mr. Hamilton the house you have picked out?" her mother asked mildly.

"Not yet, Mama, for he could not go as planned."

"Perhaps tomorrow then. Indeed, but I should like to go with you, and I believe we ought to tend to the matter before we go home to Scotland."

"Tomorrow I am in court, I'm afraid," Patrick murmured.

There was another silence, broken once more by Jane. "I was thinking perhaps of early March—or late February even for the wedding date. What do you think, Patrick?"

"I think we will be in Italy during Lent."

"Oh, yes—you are quite right, of course. They are mostly Catholic, aren't they? Well, that will not serve, for I should miss a good English joint."

"What do you think, sir?" Lady Dunster asked Patrick.

"I think I should prefer summer."

"One could almost believe you did not wish to marry me," Jane complained.

"Nonsense," her mother said. "He is being sensible merely."

Throughout the meal, Dunster seemed unusually preoccupied, almost distant, entering into the conversation only when directly addressed. Upon an appeal from his daughter, he allowed that he should like the matter settled before the election "so that Hamilton may benefit from the connection."

Later, Jane remarked wistfully that she had wished for the engagement earlier, for she had wanted to "bedazzle everyone with my betrothal ring."

"You haven't considered that, have you?" her mother asked, turning to Patrick. "Indeed, but if you ire in need of an opinion, I shall be most happy to accompany you to Rundell and Bridge, sir—providing we go before next Thursday. I have seen some lovely ruby rings there."

"But I had hoped for sapphires, Mama." Nonsense, my love. Rubies flatter your complexion."

Jane looked to Patrick. "What do you think? Should you buy me sapphires or rubies?"

Having done nothing in that quarter yet, he managed to smile. "Actually, I was thinking of giving you the ring over Christmas."

Her disappointment evident, she said archly, "But you have not answered me—which is it to be?"

"It is my intent to surprise you," he murmured.

"Well, a family heirloom would be quite acceptable," Lady Dunster allowed judiciously.

I'm afraid what there was of my mother's jewelry went to my oldest brother."

"Yes, of course. Quite proper, really. Well, then it will have to be something from Rundell's, won't it?"

"Yes."

Jane turned to her father. "Did your man of affairs contact Lady Brockhaven?"

"Yes." Dunster stopped eating for a moment to fix his eyes on his daughter's. "She wants thirty-five thousand for it."

"That sounds like rather a lot," Patrick observed.

"Oh, but it isn't!" Jane insisted. "You cannot have seen it! The rooms are commodious and perfectly situated for entertaining, Patrick. And we shall only have to redo the reception rooms. Besides," she added smugly, "Papa means to buy it for us."

"If Hamilton does not want it," her father ventured, "I am sure between you, you can settle upon something else."

"But I want it, Papa."

"Yes, well—" The earl coughed to clear his throat. "We shall discuss it."

"But there is nothing to discuss!" She appealed to Patrick. "You must tell him you want it."

"I have not yet seen the house," he murmured.

"But I have told you of it," she said, her voice coaxing. "I know you should like it."

"Jane, I am sure Mr. Hamilton does not wish to be badgered over his dinner." Lady Dunster gestured to a hovering footman. "I daresay Mr. Hamilton could wish for more sherry."

What he devoutly wished was to be elsewhere. But he reminded himself that Lady Jane Barclay was his entree onto the political stage, and therefore she deserved better of him. Sipping of the sherry, he schooled himself to pleasantness.

"Tell me, Mr. Hamilton," Lady Dunster asked, "how is it that you have chosen to practice your profession alone?"

"I am not precisely alone, my lady," he responded politely. "I am associated with a solicitor and we employ a clerk."

"But you have not joined a firm. One should think that with your outstanding reputation, you would perhaps have gone in with Parker and Jeffries, for I am certain they would have welcomed you."

"When I arrived in London, I applied to them and was roundly turned down," he admitted.

"Turned down? How so?" she wanted to know.

"I had no money—and no reputation as yet."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose that must signify, mustn't it?" Recovering, she smiled faintly. "But you seem to have rectified the problem, haven't you?"

Before he could answer, the earl intervened. "Of course he has, Bella. You are talking a great deal of nonsense, my dear, for Hamilton means to quit the practice of law in favor of the enactment of it."

"Well, I have not entirely made up my mind to leave all of it," Patrick demurred.

Nonsense," Dunster declared flatly. "You have a brilliant career ahead of you, if you will but let me manage it. Follow me, and one day you shall have your own portfolio."

After years of wanting exactly that, it ought to have lifted his spirits to hear it, but Patrick felt strangely empty of emotion. He looked at Jane's fine, determined profile, wondering how he could have ever thought there would be no price to pay for what he wanted.

It was that he lacked sleep, that he was too tired to feel, he told himself. And it was Bartholomew Rand. Even as he thought of the old man, he felt an intense resentment. He disliked the notion that he'd been shamefully manipulated by an uneducated Cit, but there was no help for that either. He could not break his bargain with Elise and have a shred of conscience.

“When we are done, shall we play at whist for a while?" Jane asked him, breaking into his thoughts.

"You have already heard him say he has court tomorrow, my dear," Dunster reminded her. "And truth to tell, the fellow is utterly exhausted." He looked to Patrick. "What say you, sir? A brandy together, and then I shall send you home in my carriage."

"1 should like that. And you are quite right, my lord—I’ve scarce slept this week."

"Of course you haven't," the earl murmured soothingly. "A gentleman was not made to work as you do."

"But you will go with me to look at the house?" Jane persisted. "If you delay too long, I shall be gone from town—or worse, she may sell it elsewhere."

"At thirty-five thousand?" her father asked dryly. "I very much doubt that."

"If it looks as though I shall be out before three, I'll send a note 'round," Patrick promised. "Perhaps Lady Brockhaven will not mind it if we come late."

"Tomorrow afternoon, I am to be fitted for a new riding habit."

"The next day, then."

"Very well, but beyond that, I shall be leaving London."

"Yes—well, now that the momentous things are settled, I should like to cose a bit with Hamilton in my study." As he looked at his daughter, Dunster's expression softened. "It will not be for long, my dear, and then he may take his leave of you."

"Well, I think you are appropriating him shamelessly, Papa, but I daresay it must be important."

"It is." The earl folded his napkin carefully and laid it across his dessert plate before rising. "Your pardon, my love," he said to his wife. "After you, sir," he said to Patrick.

"Well, dearest," Lady Dunster murmured to Jane, " 'twould seem we are
de trop
for the moment. Shall we withdraw to the blue saloon?"

The older man led the way to the dark-paneled room where a new fire had been laid in the grate. Walking to a massive desk, he picked up a box and flicked it open.

"I'd offer you snuff, but I abhor it," he admitted, smiling faintly. "But if you would care to smoke, I have had these from the Indies."

"Thank you, no. I cannot say I have either habit."

The earl moved to a sideboard. "Brandy? Or would you prefer a glass of Madeira?"

"Whichever you are having," Patrick said politely.

"Then brandy it is." Unstoppering the decanter, the earl poured two glasses before turning around. He held out one. "Yours, sir." As Patrick took it, Dunster lifted his in a toast. "To a future prime minister," he murmured softly.

"I would doubt that, my lord."

“Not at all." Taking a sip, the older man studied die younger one over the rim of his glass. "I can see it—-I can see it. You have what I never had, sir—you have passion."

He'd used the same word Rand had used when he'd first come to the law office. Patrick managed to smile before he took a swallow.

"You are filled with fire and zeal, Hamilton—and when you speak, it is a wonder to hear you. No, no— no need to protest it, for we both know it is the truth." Dunster drank again. "Liverpool is on his last legs, and we Tories are fighting and blaming amongst ourselves. Oh, we shall win the next elections, but without new blood, the public is tired of us."

"It was the war."

"It was mistakes, sir—mistakes! And you are the new blood, Hamilton. You can be to us what Fox was to the Whigs, I tell you. Aye, you can."

"1 hope so, sir."

"You
can"
The earl set down his glass, and his manner changed abruptly. "I encountered Mr. Peale at Crockford's this afternoon," he said casually. "He was with Lord Russell after court was adjourned for the day."

"Oh?"

"We spoke at length of you. Both of them hold you in highest regard, you know. They were falling over each
other to be the first to felicitate me for my daughter's good fortune."

"Coming it too strong, my lord."

"No, no—I assure you they were. But while Mr. Peale was engaged in conversation with Lord Hurley, Russell was confiding in me that he believes you are making a serious mistake, Hamilton."

"He told you about Rand."

"Yes."

"I see."

"You cannot defend him. I'm afraid you will have to withdraw—and the sooner the better. I expect you will do it tomorrow."

Patrick did not like Dunster's tone or manner. "No," he said flatly. "I cannot."

Taken somewhat aback, the earl stared hard at him, then said evenly, "You cannot defend a man half of London wishes to see hanged, Patrick. If you do, you will not be elected to a seat in Commons." He paused, looking away. "I wish I could wrap it up in clean linen for you, but there it is. You may tell Mr. Rand you are giving up your practice of law for a career in government."

"A man facing the hangman's noose is not likely to accept that," Patrick countered. "And particularly not since I have taken his money."

"How much is he paying you? And do not invoke privilege with me, sir, for I will not brook it."

"Enough."

"Whatever it is, I am prepared to match it," Dunster snapped.

"Even if it is half of all he owns?"

"Russell says he is guilty—that there can be no question of it," the earl responded, ignoring Patrick's answer.

"Then Russell ought to withdraw from hearing the case."

"Damn it! Can you not listen? I don't mean to fence words with you, Hamilton! You cannot defend a man who has murdered God knows how many females, I'm telling you! Not if you wish to be elected! Have you not heard?—there are mobs ready to riot if he does not go to trial today, and even more if he does not hang! And with the current unrest, all that stands between thousands of rioters and utter anarchy is the Horse Guards, sir! If you do not distance yourself, I cannot aid you!"

Although he himself had been thinking much the same thing, Patrick considered Elise. "I might well win it," he said finally.

"To what end? So that they will want your blood also?"

Patrick took a swallow of his brandy, then walked to stand over the fire. Staring into the licking flames, he said slowly, "If I can get the trial scheduled with the Recorder for next month, they will forget before I have to stand. You said you did not anticipate elections until spring."

"And if he is bound over until a later session?"

"As much as I dislike the notion, I will still have to defend him. I have given my word."

“The man is a murderer of the foulest sort!"

“If I win an acquittal, it will enhance my reputation rather than destroy it."

"May the Almighty save us! Even if I concede it will make you a sought-after banister, I am telling you it will ruin your chances of standing for Commons!"

“And I am telling you that if the trial is over, the mob will have found some other cause by then—there is no memory in mass hysteria—it is of the moment, my lord, nothing more."

Dunster drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Then perhaps I have not made my concerns quite clear, Patrick. If you defend Bat Rand and lose,
your
rep loses also. If, on the other hand, by some miracle you should win, you will enrage rather than appease the populace. There is no way to win at this, sir - no way at all."

"I think you are wrong."

"Do you now?" the earl said with deceptive softness. “Well, let me remind you that I have nigh to thirty pars of service to my party and to this nation, while you have but ten in the practice of law. If you were a betting man, Hamilton, which one of us would you put money on?"

"If I were a betting man? You, sir. But I am not a gamester."

“I would that you thought on it. If you persist, I cannot guarantee you a district to stand from."

"Are you telling me you intend to abandon me?"

"No, but I am telling you you may be standing from some village in Cumbria, and even then I cannot promise
you will win it. You certainly will not be elected out of London." Once again, Dunster's manner changed. Walking over to Patrick, he dropped an arm familiarly about the younger man's shoulders. "Think on it—'tis all I ask. Now, enough's been said, I think, and no doubt Jane would like to bid you good night ere you go."

Knowing that Elise had read the announcement of his betrothal, Patrick was torn between trying to explain and merely brazening it out. In the end while visiting a jeweler in Clarges Street, he chose not only a ruby and diamond ring for Jane, but also in exquisite sapphire bracelet for Ellie. The first he presented to his departing fiancee, the latter he dispatched to Marylebone.