Sinful in Satin (35 page)

“You dared speak of killing me. Are you so sure of what you know that you would issue a challenge? If they try you for murder, what you
think
you know will not save you from the noose.”

“If I conclude I need to kill you, why should I meet you on the field of honor when you have not been honorable? Fingers may point to me afterward but, I assure you, no evidence will.”

His cousin’s eyes widened. Jonathan trusted that the mind behind that astonishment was reviewing all those missions where so many moral liberties were taken in the name of the greater good.

Over on the settee, the devil’s familiar smiled vaguely in admiration, and almost purred.

Rather suddenly, Thornridge remembered Castleford’s presence. “You have just threatened me in front of a witness.”

“I only heard a man speaking metaphorically, Thornridge,” Castleford said. “Everyone says things like that all the time. I threaten my valet with being drawn and quartered at least once a day.”

“Damnation, there was nothing metaphorical about it!” Castleford’s lids lowered. “If you believe that, then perhaps you should give him satisfaction in some other way. Unfortunately, if what he says is true, I doubt an apology will suffice. It would not for me, if I ever learned a man had tried to arrange my death.”

“That is a hellish, unfounded accusation on the part of a man looking to make trouble,” Thornridge sputtered. He paced away fretfully, brow knitting hard.

Jonathan let his cousin weigh what he would, however he chose. Castleford managed to sprawl a bit on that settee without looking too rude.

Thornridge abruptly turned, now wearing a very different expression. Appeasing. Almost friendly.

“I have perhaps been too harsh. The shock of learning about you back then—such an affair was not in keeping with my uncle’s character. There is always the chance that after such a man dies, spurious claims will be made. But, I will admit now, there is a strong resemblance in you. It is time, I think, for amends to be made.”

Jonathan had been waiting to hear those words his whole life. His reaction felt almost commonplace now that he did. No glorious excitement or wave of relief broke in him. No anticipation of better days teased at his imagination. All he experienced was a deep, soulful contentment that an ambiguity about who and what he was had been settled. Not completely settled, but settled in the part that mattered most.

He thought of Celia in that instant. He saw her on the portico of Enderby’s house, sitting in the rain. He wished that she had received a similar resolution. He wished that he could give it to her.

“We will invite you to the house this season,” his cousin said. “We will receive you, and make our acknowledgment of your paternity known. An allowance is in order too, I suppose. A bit more than what you rejected years back. Enough to keep you in some sort of style at least.”

“This is all very generous. I do not know what to say.”

His cousin missed the sardonic note. Castleford did not, and smirked.

“A good marriage too,” his cousin said. “Yes, that will be essential. We will find a girl with a handsome settlement. An alliance with a family of indisputable station and respectability will go far to establishing you, and blunt any rumors that might arise about your duties during the war.”

“I prefer to choose my own wife.”

“You’ll never get the one you need on your own. If we acknowledge you and receive you, we cannot risk being mocked if you wed unsuitably.” He smiled broadly, as if he understood the concern. “Do not worry. We will make sure she is pretty.”

“Well, now, that is settled,” a voice announced from the settee. “Thornridge, perhaps you will address our business at less expansive length.”

The earl pivoted, as if surprised to see Castleford there still. “Indeed. I will be very brief. What in hell are you doing, daring to interfere with my sister?”

“I was overcome by her sweet manner. It was very bad of me, I agree. I understand if you want satisfaction, although normally it would be her husband who demands it. However, if we must duel, Albrighton here has agreed to serve as my second. It is why I brought him. Tell him the name of yours, and he will make the arrangements.”

“Second? Satisfaction?” Thornridge could not hide his alarm. Having just avoided one threat to his life, he now found himself being cornered into another. “I did not invite you here so I could challenge you, Castleford. Damnation, the days are gone when men dueled over such things. I just wanted to tell you to stay away from my sister in the future.”

Castleford stood. “You could have written a letter for that. However, I will make every effort to avoid her in the future. We will leave you now, so that you can begin your plans for welcoming Albrighton onto his irregular branch of the family tree.”

Jonathan received a final glare from his cousin for that. Something between a smile and a sneer formed. “To be expected that of the two of us, you decided to blame
me
for the enemy getting that information about you on the coast. I’m the one who had what you wanted, after all, even though Uncle was the traitor.”

Jonathan did not miss a step as that revelation followed him to the door, even though the parting shot stunned him more than any pistol ball could.

 

 

“Y
ou are quiet for a man whose fortunes havejust been reversed,” Castleford said.

Jonathan had wanted to take his leave of the duke on the street outside his cousin’s house, but Castleford in his unpredictable way had insisted on returning him to the spot where he had found him.

“It is a victory that inspires reflection, not celebration, I am discovering. And it is not without its costs.”

“The curtailment of freedom, you mean. The obligation to be respectable and boring. The day will come when you will be nostalgic for your old obscure insignificance, I predict. The lower you are in our elevated world, the more suffocating that world can be. I am glad I was born at the very top, let me tell you.”

“I may choose to remain obscure and insignificant. My cousin’s intentions for my life are more detailed than I like.”

“It sounded predictable enough to me. Since you did not balk at the allowance or the connections, it must be his thoughts on marriage that impose too far.”

Indeed they did. He had no interest in that kind of marriage, no matter what the woman’s settlement. Had his desire or need for either money or respectability extended that far, he could have lured such a woman himself.

The duke’s eyes closed then, leaving Jonathan to his thoughts. The coach eventually stopped in front of Celia’s house. Jonathan stepped out.

“Are you not even slightly tempted to go for it all, Albrighton?”

Jonathan looked back in the coach. Rather suddenly Castleford appeared alert.

“He all but admitted it,” Castleford said. “If he tried to do you in, he felt threatened by you, and a bastard is no threat. Surely you want to know the truth now.”

Jonathan instinctively glanced over his shoulder, at the house and the window on the second floor.

“I am not sure that I do want to know, or that I can. My uncle claimed to be looking for the truth for years.”

“It sounded to me that your uncle serves a master with no interest in your learning anything. That business at the very end was intriguing.”

“I ask that you not repeat it. My cousin was just looking to cause trouble between me and the one relative who admitted I existed all these years. As for the rest, my mother did not tell me much, other than the earl married her on his deathbed. That is all. I wondered if it was true, and now I think it is, but that is not the same thing as being able to prove it.” He closed the carriage door. “I thank you for your aid today. I trust that seducing my cousin did not inconvenience you too much.”

Castleford laughed. He stuck his head to the window. “I would tell you all about it, but since she is now officially your cousin, that would be inappropriate.”

“Most inappropriate.”

Castleford looked at the house. “Even if you embrace Thornridge’s plans, you do not have to give her up. Miss Pennifold will understand. She probably expects nothing more than what she now has.”

He signaled to his coachman to go. Jonathan walked to the house.

Castleford was probably correct. Celia Pennifold expected no more. She had learned through hard experience years ago that her mother’s lessons about how men of society made marriages were all too accurate. She might even encourage him to grab Thornridge’s match. She might well agree to continue as a mistress.

It was the way these things were done, after all. The way it was supposed to be.

 

 

L
aughter punctuated the night silence. A thick slice of light pierced the darkness. Three men came out of Brooks together, and wandered off to find carriages and horses.

Jonathan waited in the shadows. All men were creatures of habit, and the man he waited for was tied to habits just like the rest. Jonathan had learned most of them out of curiosity more than anything else. There had always been the chance, however, that the information would be useful.

He checked his pocket watch by the light of a nearby lamp. Unless something had happened to disrupt the pattern tonight, Uncle Edward would leave the club soon. Then he would walk down this street, to hire a hackney coach to take him home. Edward did not like the bother of waiting for his carriage to be prepared, and used it of an evening only when he attended a dinner party or the theater or a ball.

Jonathan positioned himself near a building that Edward would pass. He made no effort to hide. No one ever found him suspicious. He looked too much a gentleman to cause alarm.

The club’s door opened again. Edward’s face and hair appeared in the light. He said something to the servant, doffed his hat, and walked.

He noticed Jonathan as he approached. His pace slowed considerably. His grasp of that walking stick tightened.

“Lurking in the dark for old times’ sake, Jon? Getting nostalgic?”

Jonathan fell into step next to him. He chose the side with the walking stick, so Edward could not raise it easily. “I thought that I would see you tonight without imposing on your household.”

Edward gazed around, assessing their isolation.

“I am finished with that mission, Edward. I spoke with Thornridge too. I know he is the one who gave Alessandra the information for the government. I thought you were protecting him with this curiosity about her accounts and list of patrons. He shared that you were actually protecting yourself. You were correct when you said Alessandra would not be so stupid as to include her spy’s name in her accounts and such. You just needed to be certain.”

Edward stopped, right there on the street, in the dark between two streetlamps. “Will I be needing my pistol, Jonathan?”

He did not mean for protection, or for a duel. “I don’t know. Will you?”

“Not unless you or your cousin exposes me publicly. The rest already know. The Home Office. The ministers. Nothing was said to me, but I am sure they know. I suppose nothing was done because this traitor became useful to them.”

“At least you do not try to make excuses. I will give you that. You call it what it was.”

“I always knew what it was.”

“Then why did you do it? Money?”

Edward walked on, his posture less correct, his gait a bit weary. “Hardly. It was a woman. God help me.”

Jonathan guessed he was supposed to express shock in the pause that followed. Instead he found the response fascinating.

“I had known her for ten years. Loved her for most of them. They had her in prison. I thought I could spare her.” Edward shrugged. “Alessandra accepted me as a patron, and I encouraged her to be indiscreet about the things her other clients said in passing. Little did I guess she saw my interest as suspicious, and went to the Home Office. They made sure the indiscretions continued.”

“You had access to much better information than she could ever hear in bed.”

“Passing on what I knew in my governmental capacity would expose me too clearly and quickly. I thought to satisfy them this other way and not truly be a traitor, I suppose. I took solace when most of the information proved useless or worse.”

“Except once.”

Edward tensed. “I assumed the details of your mission were also inaccurate because I would surely know if such a mission were planned. After the disastrous results, I realized someone had seen a pattern and suspected me. Used me. The last few years it became an elegant game. I pretended I did not know they knew, and passed on what they fed me.”

“You make it sound almost patriotic.”

“Damnation, I know what it was. What I was. But little harm resulted from what I did. Sending them bad information proved to be a useful tactic. I never compromised you, or any of the others I worked with. At least not knowingly. I swear to that.”

They stopped at a corner, and faced each other in the dark mist. There really wasn’t anything more to ask or say. Jonathan did not even experience much anger. He thought it ironic, however, even scandalous, that Edward had not had to answer for this in any way, either public or private, before this night.

“Did you not worry that one day someone would hand me or another man a mission, and you would not be the puppeteer, but the prey?”

Edward exhaled deeply, the way a man does when he is trying to control a strong emotion. “Has that happened now, Jonathan? Or are you here independently?”

“The war is long over, Uncle. If men are still sent on those kinds of missions, I do not want to know about it. As for me acting for personal reasons—” He did not try to pretend that Edward was blameless. This man had assumed there was no mission on the coast, however. It was another man who made sure there was. “My cousin has made you beholden to him with this. He knows everything, and he holds your fate, your good name, and maybe even your freedom in his hands. I expect being his lackey and living in fear that he will expose you is punishment enough. You do not have to worry that I need my own revenge.”