The subject of his thoughts was still abed at the house in Seven Dials. Truscott was nursing an aching head.
He’d awakened in the worst of moods after a restless night. Sleep had proved elusive, and he’d tossed for hours, seeking in vain for some solution to his problems. This had required the consumption of the best part of a bottle of brandy, but it had served only to send him into a stupor.
Now he regretted his indulgence. He needed all his wits about him if he were to deal with Margrave. Damn the man! He’d seen the chance of easy pickings and he’d taken it. But he’d chosen the wrong victim.
He raised his throbbing head and glanced about the room to find that he was alone.
“Nan?” he yelled. Then he picked up one of his boots and threw it at the door.
“What is it, Josh?” The girl came hurrying to his side.
“Fetch me some ale, and be quick about it!” He caught sight of her face. “What happened to you? God, but you’re a sight this morning!”
“You beat me, Josh.” She touched her swollen face and winced.
“You must have deserved it!” He grunted and turned over. He had no recollection of striking her, but it was no matter. Women needed to be kept in line.
“I…I did everything you asked…and the lady gave me money…” At the look on his face she fled.
As Truscott sipped at his ale, the mists cleared from his mind. His decision to send the girl to seek out Judith had been a good one. He now had money enough for his immediate expenses, but better still the meeting had provided him with useful information which might prove vital at some future date.
How easy it had been for Nan, a stranger, to approach Judith in the street, and even to arrange a further meeting. Not for the first time he blessed the stupidity of her stepmother. How many young women were allowed to walk the London thoroughfares with only a maid for company, and unattended by either a footman or a groom for protection? It was Mrs Aveton’s selfishness and spite which allowed Judith such infrequent use of the family carriage, and then only when she was to be conveyed to the homes of such members of the aristocracy as Mrs Aveton hoped to cultivate.
He’d wondered at it since the early days of their acquaintance, but he’d made no protest. His heiress must not be too closely guarded. If ever his original plan should go awry, he might turn that fact to his advantage.
He’d run no risk in sending Nan to Judith. The girl knew him only as Josh Ferris, and he’d warned her not to answer questions. All in all, it had been a successful operation. The note had been an extra flourish. He’d thought long and hard before putting pen to paper, and then it was not from a desire to reassure her as to his health.
He’d promised to call upon her on the following day. That should put a stop to any awkward enquiries from that long-nosed stepmother of hers.
“Fetch me a mirror!” he demanded. Close examination of his features showed that most of the scratches were healing, though one, across his cheek, was so deep that he would probably bear the scar for life. The purple bruising around his mouth and nose was fading. By the following day there should be little injury apparent.
If Judith mentioned it he would think of some explanation. Nothing, he vowed fiercely, would lose him his prize at his late stage. She’d hold to her bargain, as long as she continued to believe in him.
That was the danger now. His mother and Margrave had him firm within their grasp, with their threats of blackmail. He doubted if they would carry them out unless they wished to cast to the four winds all hope of sharing in his fortune.
The preacher’s worries rested more upon his future. He’d never be allowed to enjoy the money in peace. And there was his reputation. His rise to fame had been meteoric, but he was not quite at the top of his profession. That would come when he was invited to preach at the Chapel Royal, in St James’s Palace.
What a sermon he would give them! Let the fat old Royal Dukes comment upon it in stentorian tones, even as he spoke. He wouldn’t care. It would be enough that they were there, and that he would be preaching before Royalty.
He could almost taste the feeling of power…the sensation of holding his audience in the palm of his hand. He smiled to himself. More properly it should be called a congregation, but for him, standing at the pulpit, the entire setting was pure theatre.
Then a vision of Margrave sprang unbidden to his mind. The man would be constantly at his back, smiling, reminding him always that success must be bought at a price. The preacher’s eyes narrowed. He’d no intention of spending the rest of his life in looking over his shoulder. Margrave must be removed, together with his cronies, but how? The man was as fast and dangerous as a striking snake.
He was still considering the problem when Nan came over to the bed and stood beside him, pulling nervously at her kerchief.
“What is it now?” he asked impatiently.
“I need some money, Josh.”
“I gave you enough for food and drink. What else can there be?”
“It’s the baby, Josh. I ain’t been able to pay the woman for her keep—”
“That’s none of my affair. I told you to get rid of it.”
“I know you did, but it was too late when I found out. Old Mother Gisburn wouldn’t touch me—”
“I’m not surprised! She must have thought that you’d have croaked on her.”
“I wish I had!” The tears poured down Nan’s face.
“Stop your caterwauling!” Truscott flung a coin at her. As he did so he eyed her with distaste. When her brothers had brought her from the country she’d been a plump and rosy wench, and a comfortable armful for any man.
They’d been aware of it, and hoped to earn good money from her charms, but Truscott had seen her first. Now he considered that he’d had the worst of the bargain. Since the birth of her child Nan had grown scrawny and pale. Life seemed to have drained from her, leaving her dull and listless. Time for a change, he thought to himself. It wouldn’t be difficult to replace her.
He was confirmed in this belief when she began to plead.
“Josh, let me have the baby here. I don’t trust that woman down in Lambeth, and it would cost you nothing. She’s but a few weeks old, and I want to care for her myself. I’ll keep her quiet, I promise you!”
“Bring her here, and I’ll keep her quiet for you…”
Nan could not mistake his meaning, and she backed away from him. “Your own flesh and blood? You can’t be so heartless. I thought she would be company for me. It’s lonely here without you. I ain’t even seen my brothers for a day or two.”
“They must be off on business of their own,” he told her carelessly.
“I thought you asked them to do a job for you?”
“Didn’t work out!” he said. “Get off, then, if you intend to go to Lambeth.”
He waited until she’d left the house. Then he examined his outer clothing. She’d done her best to sponge away the traces of his enforced stay in that stinking attic, and, as always, he’d removed his collar and clerical bands before he entered the house in Seven Dials.
When he left here he would bathe and change before presenting himself to Judith, though he doubted if she’d notice anything amiss whatever his appearance. He could never guess what she was thinking. She seemed always to be out of reach, as if she lived in a world of her own. That would change, he vowed. He’d bring her down to earth.
He dismissed her from his mind. Judith was not his immediate problem. What mattered now was to find some way of foiling Margrave. He’d need all his guile. Truscott considered several possibilities.
He could lay evidence of the fellow’s whereabouts before the magistrates. He guessed that the forger was still wanted by the authorities. It would not serve. If Margrave went down, he would take his former cellmate with him in revenge.
As for paying him off? The idea was laughable. The forger and his friends would not be satisfied until their victim had no more to give. There was never an end to blackmail.
There was but one solution, and the preacher had known it from the first. His enemies must be silenced, and permanently. Next time he would not make the mistake of employing idiots. He would do the job himself, but how?
He was still considering the matter when Nan returned. Her eyes were red with weeping.
“Stop your blubbing!” he ordered. “I want some food.”
For once she didn’t hurry to obey him.
“Josh, please listen to me! The baby isn’t well. I’m sure she isn’t being fed…and I don’t trust Mrs Daggett.”
“She found you a wet-nurse, didn’t she?”
“The woman is feeding several children. She hasn’t enough milk for all, and two of those I saw last week have disappeared.”
“Daggett don’t keep them for ever…only till they are collected by whoever owns them.”
“I…I can’t be sure of that. Her neighbour says she is a baby farmer.”
“What of it? If she sells them it’s probably for the best. It saves a lot of trouble all round.”
“If she sells them…” Nan burst into a storm of weeping. “Last week there were two bodies found in the river!”
“Brats die from natural causes,” Truscott said impatiently. “Daggett can’t afford to pay for burials.” Her news didn’t surprise him. If payment for a child’s keep was not forthcoming, Mrs Daggett would solve the problem in the simplest way. It had been in his mind when he sent Nan to her with the child.
Now he gazed angrily at the weeping girl. “I said I wanted food,” he growled. “Set about it, or you’ll find yourself in the street…”
He was tempted to carry out his threat at once, but it would wait. He didn’t want her running about the neighbourhood asking for her brothers. He doubted if they had discussed his orders with any of their friends, but it was best to take no chances.
Next day he left her with the unspoken resolve to throw her out as soon as it was practicable. After his marriage he would keep the house at Seven Dials, but he would have a change of mistress. Nan’s connection with the murdered men would, in time, become a problem. He didn’t fancy constant questioning. Besides, she was little more than skin and bone. His taste ran to a plumper armful.
With this decision made, he began to feel more cheerful. No solution as to the question of Margrave had, as yet, come to mind, but he would think of something. Meantime, he must not allow his enemies to suspect that he intended to outwit them. Robbed of his prey, Margrave would make every effort to destroy him, even to the extent of approaching Judith with his story.
He arrived at the Aveton household to find it in an uproar. The strident tones of Judith’s stepmother were audible beyond the closed door of the salon.
When he was announced, Mrs Aveton looked up and paused for breath. Judith stood before her, flushed and silent.
Truscott raised an eyebrow in enquiry, but before he could speak he heard a gasp from Judith.
“Charles, your face! What has happened to your face?”
Involuntarily, he lifted a hand to touch the healing scratches. “A sad business, my dear! In her delirium my mother did not know me. She imagined that I was come to take her to the madhouse. It was difficult to restrain her.”
“How dreadful for you! Is there no change in her condition?”
“Alas, she grows weaker by the day…” Truscott bent his head and covered his eyes.
“Oh, Charles, I am so sorry!” Judith came towards him. “There is still no hope of a recovery?”
“None! I fear I must return to her without delay.” He was aware that Mrs Aveton had not uttered a word of sympathy and, looking up, he met her hard, suspicious eyes.
“Judith, you may leave us!” she snapped. “I wish to have a private word with Mr Truscott.”
She waited until the door had closed before she rounded on him.
“Now, sir, what are you about?” she demanded. “Don’t try to gammon me with your stories. Where have you been for these past few days?”
“Judith must have told you,” he replied smoothly.
“Stuff! I don’t believe a word of it. Smallpox, forsooth! Even if it were true, I don’t credit you with sufficient Christian charity to spend your time beside a sickbed.”
“Would you care to tell me what concern it is of yours?”
“It is my concern, and it should be yours. Sir, you are a fool! Here is Judith, constantly with her friends, the Wentworths, and in the company of that penniless creature who still dangles after her. Do you wish to lose her?”
“I won’t lose her!” The preacher towered over Mrs Aveton, and there was something in his face which made her back away.
“You are the fool!” he told her softly. “Won’t you ever learn? Must you always be at odds with her? What was it this time? The Wentworths?”
“Not exactly!” An angry flush stained his companion’s cheeks. “That wicked, ungrateful girl had the impertinence to inform me that I…that we were spending beyond reason on her wedding.”
“Really?” Truscott jeered. “She cannot be referring to her trousseau, since you tell me that her own purchases have been frugal. I take it that she’s been alarmed by the accounts from your modiste?”
“There are three of us to dress,” Mrs Aveton said defensively. “It is expensive.”
“Especially when one provides for the whole of the coming season? No, don’t bother to deny it. I fully understand.”
She gave him an uncertain look.
“But there is something you must understand,” he continued. “These bills will not be settled from Judith’s estate. You will pay them from the share which I have promised you.”
He almost laughed aloud when he saw her stunned expression. For a moment she was robbed of speech. Then she broke into a violent diatribe against him.
“And I shall not pay them,” she said finally.
“Then they will remain unpaid…your credit will suffer with the London mantua-makers.”
“You don’t know Judith,” she sneered. “She won’t allow it. She has a positive abhorrence of debt—”
“Judith will have nothing to say in the matter,” he said significantly. “Come, madam, I am well up to your tricks. You thought to milk the estate of as much as possible in advance. I won’t have it!”
Mrs Aveton was silent, but the look she gave him spoke volumes. From now on she would be his enemy, but until her share of Judith’s fortune was in her hands she must hide her feelings.
Truscott was undeceived, and again he wanted to laugh. She wouldn’t receive a penny, and her bills would most certainly remain unpaid, but he’d thought it wise to frighten her a little. Their quarrel had drawn her attention from the questions she’d been about to ask. Sharp as a fox, he thought idly, but he was a match for her.
“Do you tell me that Judith spends much time with the Wentworths?” he enquired.
“Too much, in my opinion! You should forbid it, sir. Socialising as she does! Most unsuitable for a parson’s wife…Of course, she is not yet your wife, is she?” It was a sly dig, and he was about to answer when Wentworth himself was announced.
Mrs Aveton’s manner underwent a sea-change. No member of the Wentworth family had ever graced her home before.
Conscious of the fact that a carriage bearing a well-known coat-of-arms must at this moment be standing at her door, she was wreathed in smiles as she advanced towards her noble visitor.
“My lord, what a pleasure!” She sank into a curtsy.
Sebastian bowed both to her and then to Truscott, favouring them with one of his most charming smiles.
“I am so glad to find you both together,” he said. “I am come on my wife’s behalf to ask for your indulgence towards her.”
Mrs Aveton begged him to be seated. Then she rang for refreshment.
“How is your good lady wife?” she asked in saccharine tones. “Believe me, my lord, if there is anything we can do to help…?”
“Well, ma’am, there is.” Sebastian accepted a glass of wine. “Perhaps I should explain. My brother and his wife are gone to visit Mrs Peregrine’s aunt, and the only other member of my household, my adopted son, is also called away from London at this time.” He shot a covert look at the faces of his companions, guessing correctly that this final piece of information would aid his cause.
“The thing is that Prudence is sadly low in spirits,” he continued. “She cannot go about in society at this time…”
“Of course not…so trying for dear Lady Wentworth.” Mrs Aveton was flattered beyond measure to be taken into the confidence of this august personage whom she had previously considered somewhat distant.
“Ah, I knew you’d understand!” Sebastian leaned towards her. “You encourage me to ask if Judith might be spared for just a day or two. My wife is fond of her, and is much in need of someone to bear her company.”
Mrs Aveton looked uncertain. “Lord Wentworth, if it had been at any other time…but Judith’s marriage is now so close. I fear that it will be impossible…” She glanced at Truscott and subsided.
The preacher had been thinking fast. He’d sensed the purpose of Wentworth’s errand from his lordship’s opening words, and had given the matter his consideration.
Within these next few days he must settle with Margrave and his cronies once and for all. With Judith safe in the hands of the Wentworth family, Margrave and Nellie might threaten him to their heart’s content. They would never find her.
Truscott smiled at Mrs Aveton. “Surely not impossible, ma’am?” he coaxed. “Consider! Is it not an excellent suggestion? Our little Judith has been looking tired. She too would be happy to spend time with her friends. We should thank Lord Wentworth for his kindness.”
“The pleasure is mine. I must thank you for your understanding and forbearance, sir.” Sebastian was puzzled. What was the fellow up to? He seemed positively thankful for the opportunity to remove Judith from the Aveton household.
“Shall we ask our little bride-to-be for her opinion of this invitation?” Truscott said archly. “I dare swear that she will be delighted to accept. Ma’am, will you send for her?”
Mrs Aveton raised no further objections, which also surprised Sebastian. He’d been expecting a much more difficult task. Perhaps it was the fact that Dan had gone away which had prevented a refusal.
Judith herself grew radiant when his proposal was explained to her.
“Of course I’ll come—that is, if there is no objection…?” She looked at both Truscott and her stepmother, to find them nodding their agreement. “When will it be convenient?”
“I have my carriage waiting, and there is no time like the present,” Sebastian chuckled. “I am rushing you, my dear, but perhaps your maid might be allowed to fetch your things this afternoon?”
“There now, his lordship has thought of everything. Off you go, my dearest one. You will give my duty to her ladyship?” Truscott was all smiles.
“Of course!” Judith thought that she had never liked him better. In the midst of all his troubles he was thinking only of her pleasure. “You will let me know how your mama goes on? Charles, I would come with you if you’d let me…”
“My love, it is out of the question, as I have explained. There is all the danger of carrying infection. Now you shall not keep his lordship waiting. I’m happy to know that you’ll be with your friends whilst I am away.” He took her hand and kissed it reverently, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.
“Such a dear child!” he said when she had gone to put on her pelisse. “I am unworthy of her!”
Privately, Sebastian considered that a truer word was never spoken, but he contented himself with polite enquiries as to the health of Truscott’s mother.
The man was glib, he thought to himself. He had all the symptoms of smallpox at his fingertips, but other than that Sebastian learned nothing of the whereabouts of the sick woman, or why she had not previously been introduced to Judith. He hadn’t expected to, and no trace of his suspicions appeared in his expression.
Judith herself was smiling as he handed her into the carriage. The news that Dan was away had been bittersweet, but she prayed that he had gone to Merton to see Lord Nelson.
And if he had still been at Mount Street? Would she have agreed to visit Prudence? It was difficult to decide. She knew the danger. Her treacherous heart still longed for him. She should have been thankful that he had given her no encouragement, but the thought of her lost love still left her desolate. He was away, and she was safe from temptation. The knowledge should have comforted her, but it didn’t.
Sebastian saw that she was looking pensive.
“Forgive me?” he asked.
“For what?”
“I stole you away without a by-your-leave. My dear, are you happy to come to us for a few days?”
“I am!” she told him simply. “Sebastian, you must now think better of Charles. You saw how much he wished for me to spend some time with Prudence. It was kind of him, when he might have raised objections—”
“Indeed! Judith, you must never think that we wish for anything other than your happiness. I suspect that Prudence and Elizabeth have no wish to lose you, even to your worthy preacher.” He gave her a cheerful grin, hoping that she would believe this excuse for their objections.
His own suspicions had increased, and Truscott’s ready agreement to Judith’s visit to Mount Street had done nothing to allay them. The fellow was up to something, but what? To date the Bow Street Runner had brought no further news.
Sebastian glanced down at his companion. Once away from the Aveton household she was a different person. All her grave reserve had disappeared, and those large, expressive eyes were shining with pleasure as she questioned him about his boys.
“Inexhaustible!” he said ruefully. “They intend to make the most of this visit to London. Our next expedition is to be to Madame Tussaud’s. The bloodthirsty little creatures have a taste for horrors.”
“It will be educational,” she answered primly, but her face was alive with amusement. “You must be delighted that they are anxious to improve their minds.”
They were still laughing when the carriage stopped and he helped her to alight. His plan had worked so far, and he was further rewarded by a cry of delight from Prudence.
“Oh, my dear, you’ve brought her! I had not dared to hope. Judith, am I very greedy to wish to have you here?”
It was the warmest of welcomes, and Judith flushed with pleasure as she shook her head. “I was happy to come to you,” she said.
Sebastian left them chattering gaily. He was content, at least for the moment, to have removed Judith from possible danger, but he was deeply concerned for her future safety.
He strolled down to the library and sifted through his morning post. It consisted mainly of invitations to one function or another. There was no message from the Runner.
For some time he was lost in thought. During his visit to Mrs Aveton he had watched Truscott closely. A shifty fellow, he decided, with something on his mind. Had he discovered that he was being watched? Sebastian thought not. This was something else, something which had caused a fleeting look of relief at his own suggestion that Judith came to Mount Street.
It was a riddle for which, at present, he had no answer.
Perhaps he imagined that the less he was in Judith’s company the less likely it might be that she would change her mind and refuse to wed him.
Truscott appeared to be a consummate actor, but even he must find it a strain to keep up a front of benevolent respectability. There was always the chance that he would make a slip and say or do something to give her a distaste of him.
That was the danger now. Judith still thought kindly of her betrothed, or did she? Sebastian wondered if, at times, she were not a little too insistent as to his virtues.
He hoped that he was wrong. With Judith’s fortune almost within his grasp, the preacher would not let his prize escape him. Should Judith break off her engagement, the man would stop at nothing.
Prudence, he knew, would say nothing further against the Reverend Truscott. She had too much regard for Judith’s peace of mind. Elizabeth was more outspoken, but she and Perry were away.
And what of Dan, who loved her? He was the fiercest opponent of this marriage, yet he could put Judith into deadly danger if he betrayed his feelings for her.
Sebastian resolved that he would speak to Dan again, but it was not until late that evening that his adopted son returned.
Sebastian heard the bustle in the hall and strolled through from the salon in time to hear the butler announce that her ladyship had come downstairs and was at present with her husband and Miss Aveton.
“She’s here?” Dan’s face lit up. “I must go to them!”
“Dan, a word with you, if you please!” Sebastian threw open the door to the library.
“Isn’t this great?” Dan threw aside his riding coat, and laid his crop beside it. “How did you manage to rescue Judith? At this hour she must be staying—”
“She is, but only for a day or two. Nothing has changed, Dan, and I must ask you once again to do nothing to persuade Judith to end her betrothal.”
Dan’s dismay was evident. “She is still to wed that creature? Then what is she doing here? The marriage is so close…”
“I am well aware of that.” Sebastian paused, considering his words with care. “We must be patient for just a little longer. I saw Truscott today. The man is worried. I believe that something is afoot.”
“He knows that he is being watched?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ve heard nothing from the Bow Street man.”
“Then what?”
“Who can say? He seemed relieved that Judith was to come to us.”
“That’s strange! He is as fond of me as I am of him.”
“He believes you to be away…” A faint smile touched Sebastian’s lips.
Dan frowned at him. “Why is Judith here? It can’t have been easy to persuade the old harpy to let her go.”
“Prudence longed to see her.”
“And that was enough to send you off to visit that harridan?”
“As you know, my wife’s wishes are of paramount importance to me,” Sebastian told him smoothly.
“I know that, but it ain’t enough for me.” Dan’s eyes were filled with suspicion. “There’s something else…something you aren’t telling me.”
“Dear me! How sceptical you are grown! You are right, of course. Shall we say that I am hoping that matters will resolve themselves within these next few days. Judith will be safe with us.”
“Then you think her still in danger?” Dan grew so pale that the freckles stood out sharply against his skin.
“I was somewhat concerned to find that she is allowed to walk abroad without protection. It was much too easy for someone to approach her in the street.”
“Beggars and thieves, you mean?”
“No, I don’t mean that!” Sebastian decided to lay his cards upon the table. “I am come round to your way of thinking. There is something very smoky going on. It is best to take no chances…For the moment, Judith’s safety lies in the fact that she is still betrothed to Truscott. You must do nothing to put her in danger.”
“I’d like to wring his neck!” Dan said savagely.
“Agreed! In time I feel that someone may perform that desirable task for you, given the opportunity. Meantime, you will heed my wishes?”
“I will, but it won’t be easy!” Dan rose to his feet. “May I see her now?”
“Of course!” Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it won’t be easy, but you would do more than that for her, I think.”
“Anything!” Dan turned his face away, unwilling to say more.
“Well, then, let us join the ladies. They must be longing to hear your news.”
“It isn’t good!” Dan fell into step beside him as they strolled across the hall.
“Nevertheless, they will wish to hear it.” Sebastian entered the salon and was greeted happily by his wife.
Judith said nothing. She looked up at Dan and her heart was in her eyes.