"May I ask if your present gloom is on account of William Gilbert having been carted off by the constable?"
I nodded. "I am far more troubled by Willy’s state of affairs than my own. At least I am not imprisoned for my crime.” I rose and went to the mantel before the woe, heavy as lead, settled into my feet. “Surely you realize that Willy and I are not so different from one another. He was gravely injured," I said as I flicked a mote of dust from the woodwork, “and has been more ostracized than even I. He is now denied his freedom and the association of those he loves. It is intolerable.” Indeed, I had not realized just how similar were our circumstances until I spoke the words. The tragedy of it hit me so hard, it forced the air from my lungs.
Canning gave me a keen look, one that perceived all, and still he chose to add to my distress. "You are so certain he does not deserve his fate?"
I turned to him in surprise. "Are you not?"
He frowned, and threw a hand into the air. "I have no means of discerning the truth, but it seems as if the authorities are satisfied of his guilt. Who am I to assume them to be mistaken?”
I was not sure I had heard aright. "You have known Willy and his family for decades. They are good ton. I cannot perceive how you can doubt. And to think I supposed you might help me to prove Willy's innocence.” I went again to my chair into which I collapsed.
"I wish to believe that he did not do it," Canning said with an emphatic nod. "If not, my next wish should be that he not be held accountable for his brother's death. If he can be proved innocent, I should do everything in my power to save him."
The knot about my heart loosened a trifle and I sat up in my chair. "In that case, you have my word that I shall do all that I might to uncover the truth. I assume they have taken him directly to Newgate?"
"Do you intend to visit him there? Perhaps you should leave that much to the authorities, at least.”
“If the authorities had known what they were about when they arrived at Gilbert House this morning, they would never have taken Willy away!”
“Yes, indeed. Well, I am for bed," Canning said as he rose to his feet. "I suppose I shall have to speak with Joan later. And, Trevelin," he added with a sharp look, "I should like to know what you learn from your visit to Newgate."
"Rest assured, you shall know all," I replied shortly. In truth, I was delighted that he had conceded the point. I stared into the fire and thought of the unfortunate Willy, who doubtless suffered from the cold and hunger, as well. What other ills he most likely felt, I hardly dared to think. To my chagrin, I soon resorted to pitying myself, instead. As painful as were my misfortunes, they had been somewhat dulled by time and association. I lay my head back and closed my eyes.
I lay in the damp grass, staring up into the frenzied eyes of my attacker. I had never seen anyone so demented with rage, and yet the razor-sharp blow to my face came as a shock. The blood that covered the fingers I put to my mouth was equally extraordinary. Soon the gash in my lip filled me with unrelenting pain, and still I could make no sense of it. I knew my cousin was by my side but his voice seemed to come from far away, as did the clang of steel when Evelyn’s sword was joined in battle. Reassured, my field of vision narrowed and faded into black until, finally, I knew no more.
I awoke with a start. All was quiet; even the crackling of the flames in the fireplace had fallen silent. The tapers had all but burnt out. I rose to my feet; it was past time to retire. As I made my way to the stairs, I heard a faint rap at the front door. “I shall see to it," I called to Hughes, though he had most likely already gone to bed. Upon pulling open the door, I was surprised to find Señyor Rey on the other side. "You are certainly a persistent fellow," I remarked when I had recovered from my astonishment. "Have you come to further harangue me?"
Señyor Rey scowled. “No. But, si, it is you I have come to see. I wish to beg your pardon. However, I believe my intentions would be better understood if you were to let me into the house.”
I did not for a moment believe it was an apology that had prompted a call so deep in the night. Fatigued as I was I felt more deprived of companionship, so I waved him into the house, shut the door on the cold, and led him to the warmth of the study. As I coaxed the flames with a poker, Señyor Rey took a seat and held his hands out to the fire. Once the flames were sufficiently flickering, I poured two glasses of refreshment and offered him one.
"Gràcies." Señyor Rey took the glass, and sipped at his drink so long I heartily regretted that I had not gone upstairs and to bed an hour past. When I finally took up the other chair by the fire, he raised his bright black eyes from his glass and began to speak. "Miss Woodmansey is a remarkable young lady."
"I imagine she is but, as you are aware, she and I have just met.” I waited for a reply, but he said nothing. "I believe you made reference to an apology," I prompted.
"Yes. It is Miss Woodmansey who has driven me to this point."
"Has she?" I asked. "It would seem she is far more remarkable than I had supposed."
"Why do you say this? Do you doubt she has the power to persuade a man such as me?"
"Not in the least. And, might I add, persuasion is a more practical means of going about matters than tooling the carriage in which you arrived.”
"Of course she has done no such thing! She is a lady and does not drive the carriages. No, she has brought me to the point of apology—to you!—when I had thought such a thing not in the least required."
"Is that so?" I said in tones I knew sounded strained.
He gave me a sharp look. "She deems you a noble man despite what is said of you. She insists that I beg your pardon. I am new to this country but I am not new to the ways of women."
I pushed aside a stab of envy and allowed myself a chuckle. “I see which way the wind blows.”
"What does this blowing wind mean?" he queried, his brow furrowed in frustration.
"It means that I understand you. Your purpose in being here is to please Miss Woodmansey, is it not?"
"Yes, but only on account of my respect for her. I believe her to be wise for her years, do you not? And so, I beg your pardon for my behavior.”
I nodded. "I shall accept your apology, if only to please Miss Woodmansey, who is not,” I suggested, “as young as you might suppose. Yet, I think it a matter that might safely have waited for a more convenient time. Are you not really here for some other reason?"
Señyor Rey’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why, yes. I am a guest of Lady Vawdrey who lives at Hampton House in this same square. When I arrived at her home after the ball at which you and I met, she was most distraught over the death of a neighboring gentleman. I believe she called him Johnny Gilbert. She says his brother, who is lame, was taken away and shall hang for the crime of murder. She finds it difficult to believe him capable of such an act. She has also asked that I speak with you in hopes that you might be of some assistance. Is she right to expect as much, my lord?"
“Lady Vawdrey has asked for my assistance?” I said in faint surprise. In truth, I was amazed. I had been acquainted with Lady Vawdrey for a number of years. A somewhat foolish woman dedicated to rescuing strays from the streets of London, she had taken it amiss when I had refused to pay court to a young woman whom I, at the time, thought unworthy of me. In retaliation, she had assiduously applied herself to bolstering Rutherford’s efforts to ostracize me from society. She was more capable than Manwaring in making me feel the lowliest peasant whenever we met. “How have you come to know her?”
Señyor Rey straightened his spine. “We met by chance in Switzerland last July.”
“Ah,” I said, the light dawning. Surely, this was how he came to learn of my reputation and that of my cousin. It did not take much of a leap to suppose she had most likely invited Rey to England in pursuit of the petite Miss Woodmansey, as well. I was gratified to see that Rey had divined my thoughts and had the grace to look discomfited. “I should think Lady Vawdrey would wish the aid of any before mine,” I insisted.
> “Si, she supposed you would say as much. This explains the apology, yes? You would not have listened if I had begun by revealing Lady Vawdrey’s request.”
I was dismayed at how much this revelation vexed me. The notion that Miss Woodmansey found me noble enough to warrant an apology had been a balm to my wounds. I rose and went to the door with every intention of showing him out. “You speak in riddles. It is my fondest wish to spare my friend the noose, but I find I cannot believe one word of your story.”
Agitated, Rey also stood. “It is my wish to please Lady Vawdrey. She has given me a home in London at a time most convenient. She is fond of the Gilberts, and knows the older son could not have killed the younger. She also knows that you are fond of Mister William. She fears there is no one else who shall care to save the life of a man who is lame.”
As it turned out, I heartily agreed. As I looked down into Rey’s eyes, I saw my opportunity. If I agreed to make myself available to Lady Vawdrey, perhaps she would assist in bringing about my former good standing in Society. Perhaps I could find a lady who was not ashamed to share my name. Perhaps that lady should even turn out to be Miss Woodmansey. I had tried and failed to dismiss the canny look she had given me. I felt certain she had realized there was more to my story than she had heard from Rey. If so, she was the first. I thought myself half in love already.
“Very well, then,” I said with a slight bow of my head. “You may inform your hostess that I shall call on her before the morning is long gone. I pay a visit to Newgate Prison after that. I should be pleased if you were to join me, Seynor Rey." It would afford me a chance to learn more of the Spaniard and what else he might know about the Brothers Gilbert.
He smiled and held out his hand. "Fins doma; until tomorrow then."
Chapter Two
I peered at myself in the glass and frowned. With a nod, I dismissed Canning’s valet and executed a well-placed tug to a fold in my cravat. Satisfied that it was the last blemish in my apparel, I turned from my reflection and pondered the matter of Lady Vawdrey. That she expected me, I had no doubt; it was that she had felt it her duty to read me a catalogue of my faults not many months past that troubled me. That not one of her accusations was based in fact had nothing to say to it; she had made herself the keeper of my conscience and I had avoided her assiduously ever since. How I was to conduct a proper conversation with her was a difficult riddle to solve. Why she should desire to converse with a man ‘so without ethics, morals, or lofty ambitions’ long enough to discuss the means to Willy’s rescue was one a good deal more difficult.
I endured no small amount of apprehension as I crossed the square. I also dared to hope Lady Vawdrey was in possession of resources to aid in Willy’s release. I rapped on the door and was unhesitatingly admitted into the house by Hoagland, the butler. His expression of neutrality was startling in light of the scornful looks he cast upon me whenever the two of us met in the square. It would seem I had risen in his esteem.
"Ah! There you are at last," Lady Vawdrey cried in delight as Hoagland ushered me into her luxurious salon.
As I recovered from my bewilderment at her approbation, I allowed my gaze to sweep the occupants of the room. Lady Vawdrey I knew well enough. She was a typical graying, horse-faced, ladder-tall Englishwoman, whose family dated back to the era of William the Conqueror. Her secretary-cum-housekeeper, an elegant young man whose peculiar status doubtless contributed to his churlish expression, stood just to her left. Señyor Rey sat on a sofa to her right.
"I beg your pardon; it seems I have kept you waiting. Not for long, I hope?"
"It is only that we are most anxious," Señyor Rey hastened to explain, "to begin the business of proving the innocence of the crippled young man."
"Then, let us be on our way to Newgate.” I suspected that my wish to depart in such haste was impertinent. However, my desire to sit and make polite conversation with Lady Vawdrey was decreasing with every moment I spent pinned in the hostile glare of her singular housekeeper.
"Before you depart, my lord, I should like to wish you the greatest of fortune in this endeavor," Lady Vawdrey claimed. "How anyone could suppose a young man with a withered arm and foot could have done such a thing is troubling in the extreme. And to think that it was agents of our government who have taken him away!"
Her words pierced me to the core. "If you knew him as I do, you would be affronted for the sake of his character alone. He is not a man who could do this, not to his brother, of whom he was most fond and who was one of his few companions."
Lady Vawdrey's mouth fell open. "Indeed! Have I not just said so?"
It was with difficulty that I restrained my desire to point out the disparity in our assertions. I turned instead to Señyor Rey. "The sooner we set out, the sooner we shall have in our possession the facts that shall prove key to Mr. Gilbert's freedom."
“But you mustn’t take your leave yet!” Lady Vawdrey insisted. “I have just rung the bell for refreshments.”
“Lady Vawdrey,” I said with a bow that made it possible for me to avoid her gaze, “I believe you shall agree that our task is most imperative. But, pray, if you have anything of import to convey I am anxious for you to disclose such.”
“As you are in such haste,” Lady Vawdrey said, “perhaps we ought to postpone further discourse for another day. I know that Señyor Rey is at aux anges to absolve young Gilbert.”
He was indeed. Why this should be so, I could not say. It was a question that warranted further examination. For now, it was enough that it pleased Lady Vawdrey and that she had the power to influence Rutherford. My desire to be regarded as suitable for Society was outweighed only by my desire to see Willy free. Grateful that Lady Vawdrey saw fit to send us speedily on our way I sketched a bow, quit the room, and was halfway across the square before Rey joined me.
"El meu señyor, it is with pleasure that I attend you, but I am doubtful of my ability to keep up with your long strides all the way to the side of this lamentable.”
I gave the Spaniard a sharp look. "Lamentable? It almost sounds that you believe he has earned his plight."
"No, not at all. I only believe him to be unfortunate."
"Indeed, he is,” I said grudgingly. “Naturally, we shall take the carriage. It waits for us, even now." I gestured across the square to Number 50, its address placard in the transom window over the door obscured by the driver on his perch. My curricle was faster, but I had no wish to announce my presence at Newgate Prison by arriving in an open carriage; my reputation had been damaged by association once too often.
"But, tell me, my lord, how do you plan to prove Mr. Gilbert's innocencia?"
"It depends entirely on what, in reality, occurred." We dashed up the carriage steps and took our seats across from one another. “We must first pay a visit to Mansion House to acquire a permit from the Lord Mayor. It will take us a bit out of our way, but the turnoff to Newgate is on the way back again so it shall not prove too inconvenient.”
"I am not in any great hurry to arrive again at the establishment of Lady Vawdrey,” Rey said doubtfully. “She is kind to serve as my hostess during my sojourn in London, but that Throckmorton is most disagreeable."
"Is that what her housekeeper is called?"
"Yes,” Rey replied, his expression grave. “He is such an odd-looking fellow—those violet eyes!—and his position in the household odder still."
"I have thought much the same."
"Then it is not only I who quails under his gaze?"
I burned to insist that I did not ‘quail,’ but restrained myself. "There is something distasteful about him, there is no question. And yet, I thought his appearance today to be a sight more doleful than usual." When Throckmorton’s expression lightened enough for a smile it was the simpering sort, far too smug for a servant. He was another mystery that warranted scrutiny. "What is it that Lady Vawdrey values in such a fellow?"
"This I cannot ascertain," Rey replied with a shrug.
"Perhaps so
meone ought to,” I said quietly. "He is a servant in the dwelling across the square from where poor Johnny was killed. It is possible that he knows something useful. You, Señyor Rey, are in a position to discover what that is."
"Me?" Rey asked in disbelief. "What am I to do? Accost him in his sitting room below stairs? I am not allowed into that portion of the house."
"I am confident you shall arrive at a suitable solution," I said briskly as I straightened the seams of my gloves.
"As I do wish to be of service, I shall endeavor to succeed."
I studied Rey’s face, and wondered again at his enthusiasm for a cause not his own. I did, however, admire his determination. My opinion of Rey rose accordingly. “For how long do you intend to sojourn in London?"
"I am of the means to do exactly as I please,” he replied, his expression unaccountably defensive. “My invitation from Lady Vawdrey is for an indeterminate length of time. I am entirely at her disposal and thereby yours.”
"And what of Miss Woodmansey?"
Rey looked surprised. "What of her?"
I directed my gaze out the window so as not to observe my companion's expression; it was too guileless for comfort. "Do you intend to call on her during the course of your stay?"
“I…cannot say," Rey demurred. "May I ask how it is any concern of yours?"
"It isn't," I admitted, but my thoughts lingered on Miss Woodmansey until the carriage arrived at Mansion House and I was obliged to disembark. "No need to stir,” I instructed the Spaniard as he rose. "I shan't be long."
My business took only a few minutes, and we were once again on our way to Newgate Street and the prison. I inspected the permit I had acquired and, satisfied that all was as it should be, tucked it into a pocket of my waistcoat.
"What is that odor?" Rey asked in dismay.
"I daresay you refer to the scent in which I doused my handkerchief."
"But why?" Rey asked with a frown. "It is most disagreeably strong!"
The Devil in Beauty: A Lord Trevelin Mystery (The Lord Trevelin Mysteries Book 1) Page 2
