Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (39 page)

Bastian nodded.

"And," added Leander, "I don't hold it against you that you did what you thought necessary to help your father."

Bastian flickered a grateful look at him, but was still subdued. At least he made no objection to both Leander and Judith taking him and Rosie up to their beds.

* * *

When the children were settled, Judith and Leander paused on the landing before returning downstairs.

She took his hands. "I'm sorry about that. Bastian will get over it. I could
throttle
Timothy Rossiter. What can he be after?"

"We'll find out."

"It's all so horrible."

"Yes." His hands tightened on hers. "We've sailed close to tragedy three times, haven't we? But it's over now."

"How can you be sure?" Judith wanted him to draw her into his arms, but there was still a barrier between them.

"Because we know who. We'll have him, and make sure he does no more harm. And there I was putting it all at the door of my poor family." Leander wanted to hold her, but wasn't sure how he would be received. That stupid Hamlet business had him feeling as if this marriage had been the cause of all their woes.

"When it was really my family," said Judith. "Or at least, Sebastian's. Do you know, before I went to London, I didn't even know that Sebastian's brother had handled his affairs?" Then Judith found herself confessing about the books, and her visit to Mr. Browne's.

A glimmer of humor lit Leander's somber face.

"My dear, are you saying you married me for one hundred and three guineas?"

Judith looked up anxiously. "I suppose I am."

The glimmer turned to a glow. "I'm delighted. I'm sure it seemed a vast sum to you, but I can't believe you would have married someone you disliked for such a sum."

Judith smiled with relief. "That is true, I suppose. I was glad of an excuse to make up after that silly disagreement I wanted to marry you for a lot more than money." That came dangerously close to an admission she mustn't make, but she was beginning to feel careless about it After all they had been through, would honesty be so terrible?

"I," teased Leander, "never pretended I didn't want to marry you." He leant forward and kissed her, a brush against the lips, no more, but a reconnection of significance. "We'd better go down, before Nicholas solves the whole mystery without us."

Nicholas protested that he wouldn't dream of stealing someone else's adventure. "Now," he said when they were settled, "let's recap. Judith believes that her husband made no money from his poetry. I assume that means you never saw his account books."

"No, of course not," said Judith. "He gave me money for the household expenses, and that was all I knew except that he had an adequate income from his family."

"What happened to this income when he died?"

"It stopped. That was why I was in such straits. The only money I had was an allowance from Timothy Rossiter. Why would he give me that money if he wished me ill?"

"How did the allowance come about?" asked Nicholas.

"When I found myself virtually penniless, I wrote to ask if Sebastian's income could be continued. His reply was that it was an annuity that had died with him, but that he could provide a small income. I had the feeling the money was not easy for him to find. I sent a note to him once I was in London, to say it was no longer necessary. To Clarges Street. Is that a poor address?"

Nicholas and Leander shared a look. "My dear," said Leander, "it's one of the best addresses in London."

"But when he visited me, he looked quite poor," Judith protested. She gave an account of Timothy's call.

"'One may smile, and smile, and be a villain,' " quoted Nicholas.
"Hamlet
again. Could Timothy have known that the children had seen the play?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Judith. "At the theater, I thought I saw Sebastian's ghost. It gave me quite a turn."

Nicholas said, "I imagine it would—"

But Eleanor interjected. "You still have not discovered any reason for this, you know. It may all be moonshine."

"My practical wife," said Nicholas. "Very well. What happened to the rights to your husband's poetry, and any income there from?"

"There was no income," said Judith. "As to rights, my father handled all the legal dealings. I do know that all such things were left to Bastian. I assumed it meant the copies of his books that we had—one of each. There seemed nothing else. Except, his papers. They contain his rejected efforts, and the poems he was working on. Mister Browne was very interested in them, but I denied they existed. I had no mind to pay him another hundred guineas for another issue." She then had to explain to the Delaneys about the cordovan-covered books.

Eleanor interjected, "But the copies I've seen are cloth-bound, as must have been the case. I think we even have one here." She hurried off.

Leander asked, "Who inherits these rights if Bastian dies?" He answered himself. "I'll go odds, it's Timothy."

"And I'll go odds," said Nicholas, "those rights are worth a great deed."

"Enough to kill for?" protested Judith. "I would swear that Sebastian never made money from his work."

Eleanor came back with a slim red volume. As she said, it was simply, but elegantly bound in cloth, like the ones Sebastian had given to the servants. On the spine it said,
Heavenly Gifts,
by Sebastian Rossiter.

Judith flicked the pages. "The one containing 'My Angel Bride.' I don't understand."

Nicholas slid down in his chair to gaze thoughtfully at the ceiling. "What if," he said, "your husband's work was wildly popular. It's not surprising that you would not know, living quietly in the country. Leander and I have been mostly abroad, and Eleanor lived a restricted life before our marriage. It is quite possible that we would not know about this, though it's interesting that Eleanor had heard of Rossiter."

"So had Sir Stephen," said Judith.

"So had Beth and Lucien," said Leander. "Heavens, Luce could even quote a bit of it, but I put that down to Rossiter being their local lion."

Nicholas straightened in his chair, a bright light in his eyes. "Eleanor, ring for Mrs. Patterson. Our housekeeper," he explained to Leander and Judith, "and a great one for the more sentimental type of literature."

The woman bustled in, thin and bright eyed. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Mrs. Patterson," said Eleanor, "have you heard of a poet called Sebastian Rossiter?"

"Heard of him!" the woman exclaimed. "Why, ma'am, he is my favorite of all. I've bought all his books. 'Twere such a tragedy he died. I wasn't myself for weeks. I did wonder... Are Master Bastian and Miss Rosie related to him?"

"They are his children."

Mrs. Patterson clasped her hands to her breast. "Oh, goodness! '
Two cherubs sent from high to bless our home./Love's perfect form before us...
'
"

Judith felt very embarrassed.

"And do you know many others who like his poetry?" Eleanor asked.

"Everyone," the woman stated. "I was just quoting to them in the kitchen.
'Oh Christmas, time of love and light./ Of diamond stars in sable night.
Lovely poem, that is."

"Thank you, Mrs. Patterson."

The woman left, muttering, "His children... Here... Oh, my...!"

"Do you mean," asked Judith in a daze, "that Sebastian made a lot of money, and I never realized? But what did he do with it? We lived a very simple life, and he rarely left Mayfield, even to go as far as Guildford."

Before anyone could comment, she added, "And besides, since his death the money should have been coming to Bastian. My father is his trustee, and I assure you he would have told me if there was money available, even if it couldn't be touched. It would surely have paid for Bastian's education, at least."

Leander and Nicholas shared a glance. "I think it more likely," said Leander, "that Sebastian was duped by his brother. You said Timothy was acting as his agent, negotiating with the London printer. I suspect Timothy Rossiter managed to keep all the profits for himself. It was remarkably greedy, or foolish, however, to have Sebastian pay for his special gift editions."

Judith gaped. "You mean he has been taking money, even as I struggled to survive! And he sent me that miserly allowance in such a way that I felt grovelingly grateful? The rogue!"

"Please," said Nicholas, "not rogue. Around here, that is an honorable name. I do look forward to meeting the gentleman, though. I wonder if our people have found any trace of him?"

Leander surged to his feet. "Damnation, what a low specimen. And he adds to it by hunting down an innocent lad. No doubt he fears to have his thievery exposed. Of course!" he said suddenly to Judith. "Your visiting the printer must have scared him to death. Not only were you no longer trapped down in the country where you'd never realize the state of affairs, but you were elevated to a position of power. He must have called on you to see if you had any suspicions. When reassured, he moved smartly on to disposing of Bastian, at which point the rights to the poetry would become his, and he'd have a chance of concealing the past." He looked fiercely at Nicholas. "This one's mine."

Nicholas shrugged. "If you insist. But I claim some rights. He chose to get up to mischief on my territory."

Chapter 19

There was a knock at the door, and a groom entered in stocking feet, still rosy from the outdoors. "We've got him, sir," he said to Nicholas. "Couldn't go far in this mist and dark, and racked up at the Fiddler in Hope Norton. Davy stayed there to be sure he didn't move, but there's little chance, for it's bad out, and he's not what you'd call a hardy man."

When the groom had gone, Nicholas looked around. "What now? Much though I'd like to beat him to a bloody pulp, it may not be wise. What do you want, Judith?"

Judith was shocked by it all. "I'm not fierce, I'm afraid. I just want to be sure he doesn't hurt my children again."

"Do I not get a say?" asked Leander sharply.

"Of course," said Nicholas.

"I want him to suffer. We'd have trouble making anything of his attempts on Bastian's life, but his embezzlement should be easy to prove."

"But Leander," said Judith. "I'm not sure I care to have such a case brought to trial. It would create a stir, and perhaps reflect badly on Sebastian and the children."

She thought Leander would overrule her, but after a taut pause, he said, "Fine. Then we'll take back everything he's stolen. My guess is that will leave him penniless. Then we'll ship him off to some place far from home, to sink or swim as best he can. For such a paltry specimen, that might be suffering enough."

Nicholas looked around. "Seems appropriate. Are we all in agreement? So be it. I see no point in going out in this treacherous weather, though, since we have him trapped. We'll deal with the wretch in the morning, then escort him to London to finish the business."

"But Nicholas," Eleanor protested. "It's only ten days to Christmas!"

"Don't worry. We'll be back, and the villain will be safely disposed of. We'll all celebrate easier for that. As for Christmas," he said, looking at Judith and Leander, "it seems the Temple is not ready for you, so why don't you join us here?"

Judith and Leander shared a look, and Judith answered. "Thank you, but we would like to spend our first Christmas at our home, however makeshift it will be. Leander's Aunt Lucy is arranging for servants, and if the provisions are low, I have my own Christmas baking. There will be cake, and mince pies, and," she added with a teasing smile, "elderberry wine."

Leander rolled his eyes. "I could order provisions from London."

"Not to arrive by Christmas, I fear," Judith pointed out.

"Very well," said Leander with an artificial sigh, "I leave Christmas to you."

Shortly after, they went up to their room, peeping in to check on the children first.

Once in bed, Leander drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. "It's been a chaotic marriage so far, hasn't it? I'll make it up to you."

"It's not your fault," Judith said, but sleepily. The last few days had left her exhausted.