Three Nights with a Scoundrel: A Novel (40 page)

“No. No army,” Faraday said, finally standing back from the edge. “My service to the Crown was in … shall we say, an unofficial capacity.”

“A spy?” Julian blurted out. “You’re a bloody spy?”

Faraday sighed and glanced around. “Yes, well. Generally, we avoid shouting that out in public.”

Julian could only stare at the man. Peter Faraday, a secret agent? In a dozen years, Julian never would have suspected him of espionage. But then, he supposed that was rather the point.

“What?” Faraday quirked a brow. “Did you think yourself the only man in England with a double life … Mr.
Bell
?”

“You.”
Stunned, Julian allowed Lily to slide from his arms. He leveled a finger at Faraday. “In the street the other day … It was you.”

Faraday nodded. “It was me.”

“So when you said in Cornwall that the attackers had meant to kill me … you—”

“Lied. Yes. Men in my line of work tend to do that.”

Dizzied, Julian put a hand to his temple. From the beginning, everything that had led Julian to believe the attack was intended for him … all of it came from Faraday. And if Faraday had been lying to him the whole time, that meant no one wanted to kill Julian at all. He’d spent the past months seeing phantoms in shadows and tilting at windmills. “But why?”

“I wanted to keep you out of this.” He looked around at Morland and Ashworth. “Bloody amateurs, all of you.” He gestured toward the breakwater with frustration. “I had plans for them, damn it. To be sure, you’re all a bit slow, but it didn’t take
me
six months to learn who and where they were. I have connections, you know. I could have had these men killed at any time. Fallen overboard. Beaten to death in a prison fight. Shot during an attempted escape. Easiest thing in the world. No one would ever question their deaths, just like no one will question this. Stray shots from the firing range, the report will say. Happens all the time.”

He stared out at the river, toward the spot where the men had disappeared. “This is not what I had planned, damn it. I wanted to deal with them myself. Slowly, and at close range. I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them begging for mercy, and then I wanted the pleasure of denying their sniveling pleas. I wanted my face to be the last thing they ever saw.”

In a sudden fit of rage, he rushed to the platform’s edge and heaved the pistol out into the river. “Bastards!” he called after it, his voice breaking. “Goddamned filthy blackguards. That death was too good for you. I will hunt you down in hell.”

Julian looked to Lily. Her face was a blank mask of shock. How much of all this had she understood?

“Are you well?” he asked his wife, touching her arm.

“I’m not certain.”

Fair enough. At the moment, Julian wasn’t certain of much, either. He swiveled Lily to face Faraday and spoke and signed, “You owe us a great many explanations.”

Faraday nodded slowly. “You’ll have them. The two of you.” He turned to Ashworth and Morland. “As for you two, it’s none of your damn business. Morland, go home. Your ward is in labor.”

“Claudia?” The duke paled. “She’s giving birth?”

“May have done so already. When I left her, the doctor was already there. I couldn’t wait for your wife, but I sent word.”

“Amelia’s there with her,” Lily said. “She and Meredith both. They went back to Morland House straightaway.” To Faraday, she added, “They were at my house when your note arrived. That’s how I knew. I recognized your penmanship.”

“Ah.” Faraday’s eyes warmed. “So he saved the letters, did he?”

Lily nodded. “He did.”

A bittersweet smile curved his lips. “Incorrigible romantic. I expressly told him to burn them all.”

Leo had apparently disobeyed Faraday’s instructions, but to Julian’s eye the man wasn’t displeased. There was no denying it. It would seem the two had been more than mere lovers.

They’d been in
love
.

Lily took a step toward Faraday. “Mr. Faraday …” She sniffed. “May I hug you?”

Faraday blinked with surprise. His red-rimmed gaze slid sideways, and he gave a slight nod. “I’d welcome that.”

Lily moved forward and embraced the man, wrapping her arms about his shoulders and resting her cheek to his lapel. “I’m so sorry,” she said, starting to cry. “So terribly sorry. I miss him, too.”

“There, there,” Faraday murmured, patting her on the back. “Aren’t you a dear soul? And very much your brother’s sister, so much is clear.”

The two huddled together, drawing consolation from their shared grief. Julian felt a stab of ridiculous jealousy, but he forced it away. Far be it from him to deny Lily comfort from any source.

He would have his turn to hold her later. All night long. And for the lifetime after that.

Bloody hell. Belief hovered nearby, and his mind stretched to grasp it. Was it truly over?

“Go on,” Julian told Morland and Ashworth. “Go see to Lady Claudia and your wives. We’ll meet again soon.” As his friends started to leave, he impulsively added, “Oh, and thank …”

Both men halted mid-stride, turned, and stared at Julian as if he’d grown a third eye in the center of his brow.

“… you,” Julian finished self-consciously. This had been so much easier to say when they were faced in the opposite direction. But there they were, patiently listening, and it did need saying. “I, uh, just wanted to say”—he cleared his throat and made the next words almost part of the cough—“thank you. You know. For … not leaving. Earlier.”

The duke’s discomfort was plain. “Don’t go getting emotional, Bellamy. We aren’t going to hug.”

“I should hope not.” Ashworth threw a glance in Lily and Faraday’s direction. “Er … not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Julian laughed. The awkwardness was so thick between them, there was just nothing else for it. “For God’s sake, leave off, the both of you. Go play midwife. Thanks for nothing.”

“That’s more like it.”

“And send us word of the babe,” he called after them.

After they’d gone, Lily pulled back from Faraday’s embrace. The man offered her a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and she used it to dab at her eyes. “Will you both ride back with me in the carriage?” she asked, looking from Faraday to Julian. “We have just enough daylight remaining to talk along the way.”

They agreed and made their way to the Warren’s gatehouse. On the other side of the gate, Lily’s driver and coach waited patiently. On their way out of town, they stopped at the inn to make arrangements for Julian and Faraday’s mounts.

Back in the coach, Julian pushed back the drapes from the window glass to let in as much light as possible. He and Lily situated themselves at opposite ends of the front-facing seat, and Faraday sat across from them. In this manner, they formed a triangle, so as best to facilitate conversation.

“So if you rode out here on horseback,” Julian began, “you must not have been so gravely injured.”

Faraday replied, “I was gravely injured indeed. No deceit there. But I worked hard to recover from my wounds. I was determined to regain my strength.”

“But you led us to believe you were still an invalid.”

“I was planning to return to London anyway. When your friend Ashworth showed up in Cornwall, I reckoned I might as well ride with him.”

“And stay at Morland’s house?”

Faraday shrugged. “There’s been some curiosity about the duke amongst my superiors. He wasn’t raised on English soil, you know, and he’s always been a recluse. I couldn’t pass up the chance to stay in his house. If I’d uncovered something shocking, it surely would have meant a promotion.” He sighed. “As it turns out, Morland is the furthest thing from shocking. He’s rather a bore, and quaintly devoted to his wife. Now his ward, on the other hand … 
she
is interesting.”

“Can we please go back,” Lily said, “and begin at the beginning? I want to understand what happened.”

“The beginning.” Faraday rested his head against the tufted seatback and sighed. “Yes. The beginning was lovely.”

“How did you meet?” she asked.

“The club, of course. Back during the war, I was given interesting assignments. Lately, it’s all stuff and nonsense. What’s this ‘Stud Club’ about, my superiors wanted to know. An elite membership, open to anyone with luck? It sounded suspicious to them. They thought there must be something more behind it. So I won a token, gained entrée to the club. And I learned there was nothing behind it, except the best, most kindhearted man I’ve ever known. Divinely handsome, to boot.”

Julian glanced at his wife, amazed by how she was taking this all in stride. His own thoughts were still cycling through a sequence that went much like this:
Leo, a molly? No. Surely not. But it must be. Lily says it’s so. Truly, though. Leo?

So shocking, this new intimation of his friend’s private life. He didn’t want to let it change his high opinion of Leo, but Julian couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever truly known the man.

“Did you know?” he asked Lily. “Of Leo’s …?” God, he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“That he preferred men to women, romantically? Yes, I’ve known since we were youths. We never really discussed it, but he was my twin brother. How could I fail to notice something like that? I wish I’d been brave enough to talk to him. I … I just had no idea what to say.”

“He struggled with it, too,” Faraday said. “Living outside the rules comes easily to a man like me. But it didn’t come as easily to Leo. He was a very honest, loyal sort.”

“I worried about him so,” Lily said. “Always surrounded by friends, but isolated at the same time.” She looked to Julian. “For the longest time, I thought you must know. You didn’t even suspect?”

“No,” Julian answered numbly. No, he hadn’t. He’d been too busy guarding his own secrets to wonder about Leo’s. But he understood well the strain of presenting one face to the world while living a different life entirely. Under that burden, Julian had grown bitter and vengeful. But Leo was a better man than he. Perhaps this explained his friend’s endless quest to make everyone around him feel accepted and at ease.

His hands clenched in useless fists. He wanted to go drag the river for Stone and Macleod’s corpses, revive them, then kill them all over again.

“Let me guess,” Lily said to Faraday. “It started more than two summers ago. That’s where Leo was that July. With you, not his Eton classmates.”

Faraday nodded in confirmation. “He hated lying to you, but it seemed the only prudent course. We went to—”

“Cornwall,” Julian finished, finally piecing it together. “That house. You said you’d spent a pleasant holiday there once. With a … with a blond.” And he’d never said that blond was a woman. Faraday had just let them assume.

“Very sharp, Mr. Bellamy. High marks to you. After Leo’s death, I returned there to convalesce. And to grieve. My bones healed faster than my heart, as it happened.” His eyes slid to the window. “That particular organ is still not all of a piece.”

“But the letters,” Lily said. “They made it sound as though you’d ended it.”

“Leo ended it. Last spring.”

“Did you have a falling-out?”

“No. Not exactly.” He tossed his hat aside and pushed a hand through his hair. “He’d learned the truth of my … profession, as it were. Leo was always scrupulous about discretion. He wanted to protect you from scandal, Lily, and he was doubly concerned about exposing you to danger. Too ironic, in the end.”

“So the attack in Whitechapel was related to your profession?” Julian asked. “Enemies of yours?”

Faraday shook his head. “No. Nothing so logical as that. Stone and Macleod were just a pair of bloodthirsty brutes, riled up on liquor and violence after the boxing match. They weren’t out to get me specifically, nor Leo, nor you. They were just bullies looking for amusement, and they found it. It’s a time-honored pastime, roughing up the mollies.”

“Oh, God,” Lily said. “That’s so horrible.”

Horrible, Julian silently agreed. Also despicable, cowardly, and nauseating. But all too believable. He’d grown up on the streets. He’d seen such beatings before.

Faraday tapped the flat side of his fist against the carriage wall. “Such a stupid reason for a good man to die. That’s the hardest part to move past, the senselessness of it all.”

He’d taken the words from Julian’s mouth. Others had insisted all along that Leo’s death was the result of random violence. Julian just hadn’t been able to accept it. Not only because of his own secrets and fears, but because he hadn’t wanted to believe Leo was taken from this earth for no earthly justification, save some brigands’ drunken sport. He wanted a
reason
.

But there wasn’t one. There never would be. Damn it all to hell.

Faraday sighed. “I can only imagine you must blame me. I blame myself. When Leo ended it, I didn’t take it well. First I lost my token to Morland, out of spite. I heard the two of you making plans for the boxing match. I don’t even know why I came that night. I just couldn’t stay away. When I found Leo with a woman … I went a little mad. We argued in the alley. I stupidly accused him of lying and cheating and a slew of other unfair things. When I finally gave him a chance to explain, he told me he’d decided to finally marry. Do his duty to the title and produce an heir. He’d picked up the whore with hopes of warming to the idea, but so far he wasn’t warming in the least.”

Faraday looked away for a moment. “He couldn’t stop thinking of me, he said. Didn’t think he could marry anyone while he was still in love with another. So we ceased arguing and began … reconciling. And then those two brutes came out of nowhere.” He punched the cushion in earnest. “Damn it all, if only I hadn’t been caught so off-guard. Ordinarily, I can hold my own in a brawl.”

Julian didn’t doubt it. He’d watched Faraday dispatch those two convicts with cold, ruthless ease. And now that the man had stopped feigning injury, he moved with unquestionable strength.

“Leo was knocked senseless almost instantly. That left me outnumbered. You saw them. They were big. By the time Miss Dunn rounded the corner and screamed, I’d given up fighting back. My only goal was protecting Leo’s body with my own. We were down and defeated, and still the bastards kept kicking.” Faraday wiped his eyes. “I hated leaving Leo there, but there was nothing I could do to save him. Vengeance was my only thought. I needed to follow his killers. Learn anything I could, even if only which direction they’d run. You can both understand, I hope, why there could never be a trial.”