❆❆❆
Anthony held Rebecca, rubbing her head, kissing her forehead intermittently, and then he realized he could do something. He felt doubly a fool for never having thought of it before.
“You did not look into your ruin, did you, Rebecca?” he said, his words running upon each other in his eagerness to speak, in his excitement.
“No,” she said, as though surprised. “No, I did not. Father had just died . . . I was stunned and . . . no. How strange! Why would I neglect something like that?”
“You just said,” Anthony said. “Your father had just died. What were you to do? A lady with no previous experience of lawful matters, stunned by her father’s death—”
“It would be a simple move for a seasoned man, a conniving, evil man to take advantage!” she interrupted, jumping out of his arms and bringing her hand to her face in a show of shock.
“Anthony, I have been a fool! Of course,” and her words came out in an almost incoherent blur, “he might have been telling the truth. Father might have truly given him everything. But what if there was some trickery? What if father never betrayed me? What if all of this was some awful trick? Ah, Anthony! I have been a fool!”
“No more than I,” he said, with a sigh. He locked his eyes on hers. “I make you this promise, Rebecca. I will get to the bottom of this. I will learn what really happened with your uncle and your father. And, if it is within my power, I will restore your ladyship. That is my mission, and I take it gladly.”
***
Anthony felt foolish as he waited in the doorway in the center of town, looking for the lawyer.
Mr. Blunt, as far as Anthony could work out, had to walk by this doorway. It was between his house and his office. Anthony could be quite sure that he’d be able to surprise the man.
The question was what he would say to the lawyer when he did see him. He hadn’t planned this. He was hoping that something would strike him, that some inspiration would tell him what to do. His mission was clear. But the means of accomplishing that mission were not so clear.
He waited, and waited. The sun moved higher in the sky. A fierce love for Rebecca beat in his chest. Finally, he saw a short man, walk down the lane toward him.
He waited until the man was just about to walk by, and then sprung from the shadows. The man started. He let out a yelp. Then, regaining himself, he tilted his head. He looked Anthony up and down, gauging his rank.
“Excuse me,” the lawyer said, removing his cap and bowing profusely. “You startled me.”
“Oh, do not apologize!” Anthony said melodramatically, laying his hand on his heart. “You have nothing to apologize for! You are a saint, though, for thinking you do!”
This caught the man off guard. His forehead creased. He made to step forward, and then backward. Torn between what to do, he ended up jigging on the spot.
“Well, yes, Sir,” he said. “Um, thank you, of course.”
“You are on your way to your office, I assume?” Anthony said.
Before the man could answer, he grabbed his arm and led him down the street. “I’ll walk with you. Oh, we travellers can do with company, can we not?”
“I suppose so, Sir,” the lawyer replied, in a quiet, fearful voice.
Anthony led him through the streets to the offices and then stopped.
“Oh, I find I am suddenly weary,” Anthony said. “Do you mind if I take a short rest in your office?”
Anthony let go of his arm and turned on him with the most pathetic smile he could muster. “It would be a great help.” Anthony waited for the lawyer to respond. For a moment it looked as if he might refuse. He took a deep breath and looked Anthony straight in the eye. But then his chest deflated. “Of course, Sir,” he muttered.
Anthony followed the lawyer through the door and past the reception area into the main office.
Anthony laid his chin on his hands and smiled broadly. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I am so weary.”
“Of course not, Sir,” he said.
“Excellent!” Anthony said. “You are most kind indeed.” Anthony waited for a minute. He didn’t say anything and neither did the lawyer. They just sat and waited, watching each other.
Finally, now that the lawyer was discomfited and off balance, Anthony thought it was time to start his investigation. “Tell me about Ingram trouble,” he said casually.
“Sir?” Mr. Blunt's eyes brows shot up. His cheeks quivered. He’d worried the man. “Why would a man of your rank worry about such paltry business as that?”
“Call me an amateur gossip-monger.” Anthony leaned back in the chair and stared into the man’s face.
The momentary flash of fear on his face had given the man away. He knew something. Anthony felt it in his bones.
“I understand that you dealt with that business yourself. It’s strange, is it not, that a father who loved his daughter dearly would betray her like that?”
“Stranger things have happened, Sir,” Mr. Blunt mumbled.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Anthony waved a hand. “But it is strange, is it not? Can we agree on that?”
“It is strange,” Mr. Blunt conceded.
“Ah, so you agree!” Anthony clapped his hands together. The lawyer flinched at the sound. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Anthony dropped the fake smile from his face and gripped the edge of the desk. “I know something cunning was done with that will, sir. And I mean to find out. If you are honest with me now, I will not punish you. Of course, you are not the mastermind. Men like you never are.Perhaps if you share it with me, you will feel better.”
“Perhaps.” The lawyer was unable or unwilling to meet Anthony’s eyes.
“You want to tell me,” Anthony said. “I can see it in your face. Do not forget that I spent five years at war. I am an expert when it comes to reading pain and misery in men’s faces. Most of my friends died with the same look you are wearing now.I do not think you are a bad man. I think you have been waylaid. That is all."
“I thought it was over,” Mr. Blunt said. “It was so easy . . . the girl was so lost. She loved her father dearly. You are correct. He loved her, too. Her father’s death blinded her to things she otherwise would have seen. We were able to lead her where we wanted to quite easily. The forgery was not even that well done, but she did not know or care. She was too tired, too scared."The forgery! Oh, Rebecca! Oh, my love!
“And I assume,” Anthony said, his voice quivering with rage despite himself, “that her uncle, Mr. Richard Hopkins, paid you.”
“Yes,” Mr. Blunt said. He lifted his hands in defeat. “This is what we have to do,” Anthony said. “You will accompany me to London, where I have friends who will be able to speed this process along. You will swear before these men that you assisted Mr. Hopkins in this deceit, and that he has no claim on the Ingram property. If you do this, I will use my influence to keep you from punishment. My only objective is to see the true perpetrator punished, and to restore Lady Ingram’s position.”
Anthony found a paper and pen and slid them across the table. “Write a full account of everything that passed between yourself and Mr. Hopkins, from start to finish.”
“Now, Sir? It could take some time.”
“Now,” Anthony confirmed. “The sooner you write it, the sooner I will leave you. For the time being, at least. And this way I can be assured that you will not flee. If you do, I will not vouch for you.”
Mr. Blunt nodded solemnly, took the paper and pen, and began to write.