The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) (29 page)

Chapter Thirty-four

Magdalena was shivering when the coach jerked to halt in front of a row of deserted warehouses and huge piles of sawn planking. Menendez opened the door and the stench of the river mingled with sawdust and rotting wood flooded into the carriage. He dragged her out onto the wharf, where bales of goods and huge piles of stacked crates towered around them. The coachman handed down the small trunk to Menendez then climbed back onto his box and drove away.

Menendez tucked the trunk beneath one arm and grabbed Magdalena roughly with the other. ‘We walk from here,’ he said.

Magdalena’s boots slipped on the treacherous black ice. Unable to use her bound arms to steady herself she stumbled frequently. Only a low stone balustrade separated them from the deadly black waters of the silent Thames below. She thought she might break away from her captor and throw herself into the river. Drowning in the Thames seemed preferable to the fate that lay ahead of her in Spain at the hands of the French.

But Menendez tightened his grip and pulled her away from the edge. ‘Careful now, Magdalena,’ he hissed in her ear. ‘You’re a valuable commodity to me. I’d hate to lose you in the water.’ Putting down the trunk, he lifted a lantern from the wall of a warehouse and signalled to his invisible allies in the Thames.

The raw wind whipped around Magdalena’s skirts. Her hood blew back and her teeth chattered. She didn’t know whether it was with fear or the cold. Menendez’s letters to his French spymasters crackled softly against her skin. He clearly hadn’t seen her hide them. They were still down the front of her bodice, stabbing her in the heart to remind her of her foolishness.

She glanced around desperately. Across the black expanse of the water the welcoming lights of Westminster twinkled and glowed but this wharf was deserted. Above her head, wooden cranes creaked and swayed in the cold wind, and their tangled rigging slapped against the beams. The bulbous oak hull of a three-masted sloop anchored halfway across the river was silhouetted against the moon. A light flashed from the prow, followed by another. It was responding to Menendez’s signal. Those pinpricks of light were sealing her doom.

‘Not long now,’ Menendez said, the satisfaction evident in his voice. ‘My friends will take good care of us on our voyage; they will be delighted to receive the list I have in my pocket – the one your stupid lover sought.’

Magdalena thought again about throwing herself into the water. Did she have the strength to knock him over the balustrade too? Could she kill them both? She shook her head and sighed: Menendez could swim.

She heard the slap of oars against the choppy water of the Thames and the monotonous creak of metal oarlocks. Someone was rowing out from the ship towards them.

‘I have had a thought,’ Menendez said. She saw the leering grin stretched across his face. ‘As part of my reward for returning you to the French, I will ask that your confiscated estates be given to me. A neat solution, don’t you think? Unfortunate for your son, but this is a far preferable course of action than marrying you to acquire them.’

Her eyes flashed. She gave a strangled groan and tried to kick him. He laughed and kicked away her legs. Magdalena sank into an undignified heap on the ground. He leant down and clutched the neck of her cloak so tightly around her throat she thought he would strangle her. His hot breath was rank against her cheek.

‘You didn’t really think that I would sully my family name through marrying a murdering trollop like you, did you?’ Menendez hissed. ‘No, I just wanted you in Bedford Square as an insurance in case your prying lover came too close to my operation.’ He laughed again. ‘You’re too old for me Magdalena. I prefer my women to be younger – a lot younger.’ She groaned and closed her eyes, desperate to shut out his mocking voice. But it didn’t work. ‘Even your little maid is too old and haggard for me. But it’s a pity that we have to leave tonight – I would have still despoiled your precious Teresa anyway – and enjoyed it.’

She groaned with fury. If only her hands were free she would have strangled him. She had never felt more alone, helpless or furious in her life.

At the base of the wharf, the sailors from the ship hauled in their dripping oars and hailed Menendez in French. A dark figure clambered out of the wooden longboat and leapt up the slimy stone steps that glistened with riverweed in the moonlight. ‘Do you have it?’ he growled in French.

‘Oh, yes.’ Menendez pulled a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket with a flourish and handed it over to the other man.

‘Who’s this?’ the Frenchman asked with a curt nod of his head towards Magdalena.

Menendez hauled her to her feet. ‘This is Doña Magdalena. She can’t speak right now because she’s gagged. She will travel back to Spain with us.’

‘I don’t think so, Menendez!’

Two dark-coated figures suddenly moved out from between the stacked bales on the wharf, deadly metal pistols gleaming in their hands. Magdalena gasped, unable to believe her ears and her eyes. It was Stephen and Constable Woods. They both looked strained and Stephen’s face was glowering with anger. They stalked cautiously towards Menendez, their weapons steady and aimed at him. She heard the Frenchman curse and scurry back down the steps. Excitement and hope welled up inside her.

Menendez laughed cruelly. He pulled Magdalena back into him and held up a pistol to her temple. ‘You’re a damned nuisance, Lavender,’ he said.

Is it his own pistol?
she wondered as the cold barrel pressed into the side of her head.
Or is it the empty one of mine he pulled out of my boots?
Desperately, she tried to remember if Menendez had gone anywhere near the bookcase in the study where he kept his own weapon. If it was her empty weapon, then this was a bluff.

‘Let her go!’ Stephen and Constable Woods moved closer. They fanned out.

‘One more step and I shall kill her,’ Menendez snarled. But she heard the tension and panic in his voice.

‘Trust a Spaniard to hide behind a woman’s skirts,’ Woods sneered.

But the two officers stopped in their tracks, unprepared to take a chance with Magdalena’s life.

‘Let her go and throw down your weapon!’ Lavender yelled.

Menendez dragged her a step closer towards the treacherous steps and glanced back uneasily. The Frenchman was already clambering back into the longboat. Magdalena sensed her captor’s indecision and knew that he would never be able to drag her down those slippery steps into that wooden boat. Not with her arms bound behind her. He would have to use her as a shield until he reached the top step. Then no doubt he would let her to fall into the Thames as he leapt down into the boat.

She faced a stark choice. She could either struggle like mad, try to escape his clutches and risk a pistol shot through her skull – or she faced certain death in the icy waters of the Thames.

Magdalena made her decision. With every ounce of her strength she kicked out behind her. Her heel made contact sharp contact with his shin. He yelped with shock and temporarily loosened his grip. She seized her opportunity and threw herself forward as hard as she could, twisting her body to break free. She expected the flash and sharp retort of the pistol shot that would end her life. It never came. She landed in an undignified heap on the ground, jerking her head back to stop her face smashing onto the ground.

Time stood still. Menendez raised his pistol, swung round and aimed at Lavender. A single pistol shot rang out in the cold night air. The powder flash lit up the dock.

Felipe Menendez swayed. He dropped his pistol then toppled backwards off the wharf. Magdalena held her breath. For a split second there was nothing. Then she heard the gratifying splash as Menendez’s body hit the water. She exhaled. She twisted her head and caught sight of the pistol lying on the ground. Its pearl handle glimmered in the moonlight: it was hers.

Stephen was instantly by her side. Constable Woods raced to the edge of the wharf. As Stephen pulled her up off the ground and took her into his arms, he called out to Woods: ‘Is Menendez dead?’

‘I can’t see him in the river,’ Woods growled. ‘And his French friends haven’t bothered to look for the body – they’re leavin’ without him.’

Magdalena could hear the frantic slap of oars against the water.

‘The buggers are gettin’ away!’ Woods raised his pistol and took aim.

‘No, Ned!’ Stephen shouted. ‘Let them go. The information they’ve got will cause the French more trouble than it’s worth. Let them take that fake document back to their masters.’

Woods grunted with reluctance but he lowered his weapon.

‘And get away from the edge – they might shoot back.’

Lavender gently took the gag from around Magdalena’s mouth and untied her.

‘It’s over, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘It’s over, my darling.’

She couldn’t speak. She just fell into his arms, buried her face in his chest and sobbed with relief.

Lavender took Magdalena back to her lodgings, wrapped her tenderly in a thick shawl and made her sit in front of the fireplace while he raked around in the cold grate and lit a fire. But she couldn’t settle. She rose to her feet and stood for a while by the window looking out into the damp, dark and silent street.

He came up behind her and handed her a large glass of brandy. Her hands still trembled and she sipped it unsteadily.

‘Your window to the world,’ he said softly. ‘Are you looking out there for more excitement?’

A slight smile played around the edges of her lips. ‘No, thank you, Detective Lavender,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve had more than enough excitement for one lifetime.’

Behind them the fire blazed into life. Lavender took a large drink from his own glass and felt the fiery liquid revitalise his insides. Warmth gradually seeped back into his aching body and colour crept up into Magdalena’s cheeks.

Conscious of his stare, she gently touched the bruising around her mouth, caused by the gag. When she raised her hand, he noticed that there were bruises around her wrists too. Fresh anger flashed through his exhausted mind.
He’s dead
, he told himself.
He’s dead.

‘I must look a fright,’ Magdalena said.

He smiled. Despite everything she had been through, her first thoughts were for her appearance. ‘You always look beautiful to me, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘The cuts and bruises will fade and the swelling will go down.’ He saw her colour deepen. ‘I just hope that the terror Menendez caused you will fade just as quickly,’ he added.

She shrugged. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’

‘I’m sure of it,’ he replied firmly. ‘I shot him right between the eyes.’

She smiled, a deep satisfied smile. ‘You have repaid your debt now Stephen,’ she said. ‘I saved your life at Barnby Moor; now you have saved mine.’

It was his turn to shrug. ‘It doesn’t alter how I feel about you, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘My offer of marriage never came out of gratitude for your help at Barnby Moor. It came because I have fallen in love with you.’ He remembered Teresa’s words back at Bedford Square: ‘
She loves Señor the detective! She tell me!
’ He took a deep breath and remembered Woods’ advice.

Magdalena smiled again and looked down modestly. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. ‘I’m tired, Stephen,’ she said. ‘I think I need to retire for the night.’

Lavender fought back his disappointment and nodded. But he wasn’t ready to do the gentlemanly thing and bow out just yet. ‘I’ll just stay long enough to finish my drink,’ he said. Then he winked. ‘If you want, I’ll come and tuck you into your bed.’

She lowered her eyelashes but her lips still smiled. She disappeared behind the faded old curtain that separated off the sleeping quarters from the main room. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass, watched it glint in the firelight and waited.

Suddenly, he heard a strangled sob from the far end of the room. ‘Stephen,’ she murmured.

He was on his feet instantly, striding over to her. Magdalena was standing beside the large metal-framed bed, her shoulders drooped in misery.

‘What’s the matter, my darling?’

‘I can’t get this dress unhooked without Teresa’s help.’

He gave a small laugh. This was the last thing he had expected: a game. He rose to the challenge. ‘I see, madam,’ he said. ‘So you can help the British government smash a dangerous ring of French spies – but you can’t undress yourself?’

She nodded, a half-smile playing around the edge of her gorgeous lips. He knew she was lying and a wave of anticipation swept through him.

‘I’ll do it,’ he said softly. He moved forward to the warmth of her body and her scent. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a lady’s maid.’

Carefully, he undid the hooks on the back of the gown. It fell away to the ground, with a rustle of silk. Magdalena wore a soft, white chemise beneath her satin corset. The garment flared out from her slender waist over the voluptuous curves of her hips. Its frilled neckline was tied loosely with a pink ribbon. His fingers itched to pull the trailing end of that ribbon.

‘Thank you, Detective,’ she said, softly.

‘My pleasure,
señora
.’ He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his body. She didn’t resist.

‘You make a good lady’s maid,’ she whispered. ‘I may use your services again.’

He lowered his head to kiss her neck and suck gently on her ear lobe. The softness and scent of her warm skin sent a fresh wave of passion coursing through his veins.

She relaxed against his him, twisted her head and looked up. Her violet-black eyes smouldered with desire. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. ‘Stay with me tonight, Stephen,’ she whispered.

‘Only if you promise to marry me,’ he said.

Chapter Thirty-five

Monday 26th February, 1810

Lavender, Woods and Captain Sackville sat in Read’s office, watching the frowning magistrate as he read Lavender’s report. A folded news-sheet lay discarded at the edge of his desk. Woods was amused to see one of the headlines on the front page:
Sans Pareil Actress Back from the Dead!
Today’s news-sheets had all trumpeted the triumphant return of April Clare to the stage and were blithely unaware of the greater drama that had taken place in the capital over the last two days.

The longcase clock in the corner of the room ticked slowly. The fire crackled quietly in the grate. They heard the muted shouts of the hawkers mingled with the low rumble of the incessant traffic to Covent Garden. On his left, Captain Sackville grinned from ear to ear and lounged back comfortably in his chair. But Woods was conscious that Lavender, on his right, was tense and scowling. He wasn’t sure why.

‘So the French agent escaped on board the ship?’ Read said. It was more of a statement than a question.

‘Not entirely,’ Sackville said. ‘Constable Woods roused the chief customs officers for the pool of London and they launched a pilot boat. They managed to get the name of the ship from its bows before it reached the East India Docks at Blackwall and gathered speed. If that ship ever returns to the Thames, my agents will be ready and the Admiralty will deal with her and her crew.’

Read glanced up at Woods. ‘You did well, Constable.’

Woods bristled with pride.

‘But both Gabriel Gomez and Felipe Menendez are dead?’

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Sackville said. ‘Menendez shot Gomez before Lavender and Woods could arrest him.’

‘And Menendez tried to escape,’ Woods said quickly. ‘Detective Lavender had no choice but to shoot him. He fell into the river and Mother Thames claimed him for her own.’ Read glanced up at his two officers. Lavender said nothing.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Sackville said. ‘The imposter, Sir Lawrence Forsyth, is in custody and is proving to be – how shall I put this? Quite cooperative?’ There was a short silence. No one asked how the Admiralty had managed to make the spy so ‘cooperative’. ‘You will be interested to know, Lavender, that Forsyth doesn’t have scarring from burns on his back.’

Lavender nodded. There was a look of satisfaction in his eyes but still he said nothing.

Sackville cleared his throat. His next words were calculated and formal. ‘The Duke of Clarence has been informed about Forsyth’s deception and is, understandably, quite horrified and distressed. I trust that the Admiralty can rely completely on the discretion of everyone in this room? Should the news-sheets – or the public at large – ever hear about this story then the scandal would be devastating to both us and the House of Hanover.’

Read nodded without glancing up. ‘You can trust my officers, Captain. No one in this room will ever breath a word of this shocking affair. I am more concerned at the moment about all these Spaniards in my prison cells. Who are they?’

‘Oh, that’s down to me.’ Woods grinned from ear to ear. ‘After I left the customs officer, I rounded up a few of the lads from Bow Street and we went back to the Menendez house with a prison wagon. We arrested the whole bloody household – includin’ that coachman – whom we think is also part of the spy ring.’

‘I can see we will be busy sorting out this lot over the coming days, Magistrate Read,’ Sackville said cheerfully.

Read reached for another document on his desk. ‘It says on the charging sheets that the eldest Menendez sister has also spent a night in the Bow Street cells? Do you think she’s part of the gang as well?’

‘It’s difficult to know, sir,’ said Woods. He frowned and assumed a look of concerned innocence. ‘We didn’t arrest the younger sister but that eldest one is a sly old tabby and a hatchet-faced old trot.’

‘We don’t normally lock up women just because they’re ugly and have a sharp tongue, Constable,’ Read said. ‘Otherwise there would be no room in the police cells of London for the criminals.’

‘Well, I think that Captain Sackville’s men should give her a thorough goin’ over,’ Woods insisted. ‘There may be somethin’ she knows.’

‘Leave it to me,’ Sackville said, grimly.

Woods grinned and felt a flush of satisfaction. He had been shocked at Juana Menendez’s brutality towards little Teresa; the woman deserved an unpleasant stint in the cells.

Read sighed and shook his head. ‘It looks like I will have a busy afternoon in court – I’ll need a Spanish interpreter, Stephen.’

‘Not me, I’m afraid,’ Lavender said quickly. ‘You’ll have to find someone else. I’m busy this afternoon. I have some private business to attend to today.’

Read’s mouth dropped open but before he could close it and reply, Sackville intervened. ‘Yes, you fellahs probably deserve a little time off. All in all, a satisfactory conclusion, eh Read? The Admiralty is very pleased with how this case has been resolved. Admiral Hawkes would like me to extend his thanks to you and your officers.’

‘Humph.’ Read was only partially placated. He glanced shrewdly at Lavender. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said. Lavender nodded. ‘And Doña Magdalena? I trust she’s no worse for wear following her ordeal?’

‘Fortunately, she’s fine,’ Lavender said. ‘But that is no thanks to you.’

Woods took a sharp breath. The simmering tension between the two men was about to erupt again. He braced himself for the conflict.

Lavender pulled a wad of letters out of his coat pocket and pushed them across the desk towards Read. ‘She asked me to give you these. Apparently, these are documents which prove that Menendez was in the pay of the French.’

‘I’ll take those,’ Sackville said and reached forward to claim them. Read nodded his approval.

‘I understand that some payment is in order?’ Lavender stared coldly at Read. ‘You persuaded Doña Magdalena to spy for you, did you not? A foolish notion on your part which nearly got her killed.’

There was an awkward silence in the room. Woods was genuinely shocked. So that was why Doña Magdalena had become involved with Menendez – and why Lavender was so furious. Read shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and avoided eye contact with Lavender.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘So she told you, did she? Well, I will make sure that she’s reimbursed for her trouble.’

‘I would hope so,’ Lavender said. Read didn’t reply. ‘This will be the one and only time that she spies for you.’

Read nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘In fact, I have an announcement to make.’ Lavender pulled himself up straight and glanced round to make sure that the other men were paying attention. Woods held his breath.

‘Doña Magdalena has agreed to be my wife. We intend to marry at St Saviour and St Mary Overie in Southwark. The first banns will be read next Sunday.’

Woods exhaled, whooped and beamed from ear to ear. Both he and Sackville reached over and clapped Lavender on his back.

‘Oh, I say, old man!’ Sackville exclaimed.

‘Congratulations, sir,’ Woods said.

‘Well, this is a rum turn-up for the books! An excellent outcome to the case, I say,’ Sackville added.

Magistrate Read looked anything but pleased. ‘Does she intend to convert to Protestantism?’ he asked, sharply.

‘No.’

‘And what will your family think about your marriage to a foreign Catholic?’ Read’s voice rose with anger. ‘Don’t forget that I worked with your father for years – I’ll wager that he’ll not be happy about welcoming a Roman Catholic into the family.’

Woods frowned. He had also worked with John Lavender and knew him to be a fair and decent man, devoted to his family.

‘Actually, I took Magdalena to meet them last night,’ Lavender said calmly. ‘They think she’s delightful.’

Woods relaxed.
Good for John and Alice Lavender
, he thought.

Read threw up his hands in a dismissive gesture. His face set in a petulant frown. ‘So be it. You go ahead and ruin your career with a marriage to a Papist,’ he snapped. ‘The demand for your services will soon dry up once this becomes public knowledge.’

Lavender shrugged and stared calmly across the desk at the blustering magistrate. ‘I’ve told you before – I’ll take my chances with that.’

‘And I shall be sorry to lose Doña Magdalena’s services as a Spanish teacher,’ Read continued. ‘I understand that she has been an instant hit with our operatives.’

‘She would like to continue with her work,’ Lavender said. ‘She believes it will be a worthwhile occupation for her while I’m out of town on a case and I know that you need her. Although you and I need to talk, Read, about that woefully inadequate salary you pay her for her talents.’

Woods whistled quietly. That Doña Magdalena was certainly a unique kind of woman.

‘That’s most irregular.’ Read scowled. ‘It will look like you can’t afford to keep your wife if she works.’

Lavender shrugged. ‘I don’t care what other people think about us,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve made that quite plain.’

‘Yes, but you’re well matched,’ said Woods. ‘Betsy said so.’

The other men regarded Woods curiously for a moment, then Read began to tidy up his desk. He shuffled the papers from one side of the desk to another and picked up a quill. He scowled and his voice became laced with sarcasm. ‘Well, if your union has the blessing of Betsy Woods – then who am I to object? I’m not sure that Mrs Read will be so comfortable with this marriage, though. You do realise, don’t you Lavender, that she may never be able to receive your Catholic wife?’

‘I’m not sure that we care,’ Lavender said. ‘Besides which, I don’t think Magdalena will be inviting you and Mrs Read to the wedding. I don’t think she has forgiven you yet for putting her life in danger – and neither have I.’

Read gasped at the insult and the quill he was twirling fell out of his hands.

‘I say, you fellahs!’ Sackville burst out laughing. He stood up and pushed back his chair. ‘I think it is time I left. You’ve obviously got some talking to do to resolve things between yourselves. Woods?’

‘Yes, sir?’ he said.

‘If this spat escalates and they pull out the duelling pistols, then you have my permission to lock them both up in the cells.’

Woods grinned. ‘Yes, sir.’

Both Read and Lavender suddenly looked uncomfortable.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Lavender said. He also rose to his feet. ‘There is nothing else to be said. The matter of my marriage is decided, whether Magistrate Read likes it or not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will take the rest of the day off – as I said, I have some private business to attend to.’

Read pushed a file across the desk towards him. ‘Before you go, take this,’ he snapped. ‘It’s the details of your next case – in Northamptonshire. There’s been a series of burglaries and the authorities need some help. You should leave tomorrow. I think we may need to put a few miles between us for a while, Detective Lavender.

Woods grimaced at the formality in Read’s tone as Lavender nodded.

‘With any luck, you should have the matter resolved and be back in London in time for your nuptials.’

Lavender picked up the file and glanced at him coldly. ‘Oh, don’t worry yourself, Magistrate Read,’ he said. ‘I
will
be back in town in time for my wedding. But obviously, in Northamptonshire, I’ll need Woods’ help.’

For a moment it looked like Read would refuse, but then he threw up his hands in resignation. ‘Oh for God’s sake, take him,’ he snapped. ‘The horse patrol has forgotten what he bloody looks like anyway.’

Woods found Lavender down by the river, sitting on a crate and staring out at the water. Seagulls circled noisily overhead but it was quieter down here away from the hustle and bustle of the market hawkers and gin shops of Covent Garden. The tide was partially out and the heaving water slapped against the muddy banks. A small group of ragged urchins prodded at the mud, hunting for shellfish. A myriad of little boats and tall ships bobbed up and down in the choppy water.

There was a cold breeze but the detective didn’t seem to notice it. He stared thoughtfully across the river at the wharfs on the south bank. Woods figured that Lavender was still probably brooding about the events of Saturday night. Betsy always said that happiness spins on a sixpence, and he could see that now. If they’d arrived a few moments later – or if Alfie Tummins hadn’t been on the spot to help them – then things may have gone tragically wrong for his friend. It was a chilling thought. But Woods reckoned that Lavender didn’t need reminding about that right now.

‘Congratulations again, sir,’ he said cheerfully, as he rolled up a barrel and sat down beside him. ‘Don’t worry about Magistrate Read; he’ll come around to the notion of your marriage in the end.’

Lavender nodded. ‘I know he will.’

‘I knew you’d talk Doña Magdalena around eventually. It’s going to be an excitin’ new life for you both.’

Lavender smiled.

‘Of course this is goin’ to cost me a new hat for Betsy,’ Woods continued, ‘and probably a new coat for myself.’

Confusion flickered across Lavender’s face. ‘I don’t think you’ll need a new coat, Ned. I suspect it will be a quiet affair; Magdalena has no family except Sebastián, and it looks like that apart from you, Sackville and my family, hardly anyone else I know approves of our match.’

‘If you want me to stand up for you, I’ll need to look smart.’

‘Stand up for me?’

‘Aye, you’ll need a witness for your nuptials, won’t you? And as you haven’t got no brothers, I thought I’d offer my services.’

Lavender’s smile broadened. ‘I’d be honoured to have you as my witness, Ned.’

‘Well, that’s settled then. Of course the gals will have to arrange the weddin’ while we sort out those thievin’ joskins up in Northamptonshire.’

Lavender groaned. ‘I hadn’t thought about that. Magdalena won’t be pleased.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. They’ll be glad to have us out of the way. Betsy will help Doña Magdalena. She loves a good knees-up, does my Betsy.’

‘My life will never be the same again, will it?’ Lavender said quietly.

‘No, sir. Not with a feisty new bride, a stepson, a new home and a gaggle of servants to control.’ His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘It’ll burn a big hole in your savin’s too. I can’t see as you’ll have much peace from now on. Your bachelor days are over.’ He shook his head in mock solemnity. ‘And then of course, there’s Alfie Tummins.’