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Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four)

Page 25

by Maureen Driscoll


  “You seduced me to win that cursed wager.”

  The words sliced deeply into Hal. He had never known such shame. “The stupid wager was about a kiss.”

  “Did you win more money when you…” Here she had to take a moment to calm herself. When he started to interrupt, she raised her hand to stop him. “Did you win more money when you ruined me? I expect that made you quite a hero with your despicable friends.”

  “They don’t know about that. At least, not through me. We were seen at Madame Thurmond’s. Someone is blackmailing me.”

  “And my uncle.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. My uncle, who has been nothing but kind, is being blackmailed to cover my shame.”

  “He cannot pay the blackguard.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, my lord. Kellingtons care naught for scandal. You’ve become infamous for your dalliances and indiscretions and are all the more revered for it. But this will ruin not only me, but Mary. I have done this to Mary.”

  “You haven’t done a thing,” said Hal. “The fault is mine alone.”

  “The fault is shared, my lord. I am not so much a hypocrite to say I did not go into this willingly. But the shame will be for my family and me to bear. I’ve told them I wish to return to Philadelphia, to lessen the shame on them.”

  “Are you going with Parker?” asked Hal, alarmed.

  Mel was silent for a moment. “I believe he was on the verge of proposing marriage. That shan’t be possible now, of course, but I hope to return and be of some use to him.”

  “You cannot marry Parker!” said Hal. “You will marry me!’

  “Why? Has the Duke of Lynwood declared it to be so? Because I will never marry you, Hal Kellington. And both you and your brother can go to the devil if you think to make me.” She turned to leave.

  Hal was at her side in an instant, reaching out to hold her hand. “Mel,” he said desperately. “Please.”

  She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. For a moment, Hal hoped she might see through this to forgive him. But she simply shook her head. “No, Hal. I will not be fooled again.”

  Then she left the room and ran up the stairs. He was about to follow until her aunt blocked his path.

  “Give her time,” said Aunt Evelyn. “Try again tomorrow. She may yet come around.”

  Hal stared at where Mel had disappeared, then turned to her aunt. “And what about you, Lady Heffner? Will I ever convince you how sorry I am?”

  She considered the question for a moment. “You remind me of another young man who was somewhat foolish but came to realize his love for a young lady.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I married him. Now take yourself off, Lord Hal. You both need time to think.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning, Hal awoke, feeling miserable. Nothing would make him feel better until he could fix what he’d broken. He had to find the man who was blackmailing him to ensure he didn’t hurt Mel any further. Then somehow he’d convince Mel to give him another chance because he had to marry her. He couldn’t think of what his life would be like if he didn’t.

  He was just on his way downstairs when Arthur entered the house. “Hal, Richard Parker is at the Home Office for questioning. I thought you might like to be present.”

  “Yes, I would,” said Hal, grimly.

  Half an hour later, they were at the Home Office, where Parker was seated on Arthur and Vanessa’s settee and two constables stood by the door. Arthur raised a brow at the sight of his wife serving Parker tea. But Hal was the one who truly took exception.

  “What the devil were you doing that day in Newgate, Parker?” asked Hal.

  At the sound of Hal’s voice, Parker turned. His teacup went flying as he jumped over the settee to attack Hal. “You bloody bastard! I’ll kill you for what you did to Melanie.”

  Hal looked just as ready to trounce Parker, for the two of them immediately began throwing punches and rolling on the ground. The constables had been slow to react, no doubt shocked by two toffs behaving as if they were in a tavern brawl. But Arthur was able to pull Hal off the man, then the two constables grabbed Parker.

  “Gentlemen!” said Vanessa, between pours. “And I use the term loosely. Take your seats, for we have much to discuss.”

  As Parker wiped his scraped knuckles, he bowed to Vanessa. “My apologies, Lady Vanessa. But you might as well throw me in Newgate because nothing will stop me from giving Lord Hal the beating he deserves. I shall, however, wait until our business has concluded.”

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Parker,” said Vanessa. “Now, if you will be so kind as to tell my husband and Lord Henry what you have told me.”

  “I believe Charles Francis killed the prisoner at Newgate to cover up his involvement in – and quite possibly his supervision of – a white slavery ring.”

  “Those are serious allegations, sir,” said Arthur. “Why do you think this?”

  “When Miss Sutton told me about the missing prostitutes, it made me think of a few more irregularities over the past year. In addition to providing passage for the women, my friend Captain Clinch ships various goods back and forth between here and America, many of them bound for merchants in Philadelphia that I know quite well. They’ve told me on more than one occasion that there were missing items from the shipments. When it was brought to the Captain’s attention, he was most apologetic and even reimbursed the merchants for the worth of the missing items. He is an honorable man and felt most distressed by the loss.

  “On the voyage over, I asked Clinch about the operation of the docks, and he told me about the general rise in crime over the past year. No arrests had been made, which made him believe the criminals were professional and had sufficient funds to pay sailors to look the other way, as well as officers of the Watch.

  “I began making more trips to the docks to observe what I could, which is where I saw Charles Francis on more than one occasion.”

  “There’s a cathouse nearby that he likes to frequent,” said Hal.

  “So I learned,” said Parker. “Francis is surprisingly flush, despite the fact that his second cousin the earl has lost most of his inheritance at the tables over the past year, adversely affecting the income for the entire family.”

  “How would that affect Francis’s funds?” Vanessa asked Arthur.

  “From what I recall, the current earl is a young man and was sent down from university two years ago. As the earl, he has full control of the estate and its holdings. Other members of the family may derive income from rents and investments, but they have little to no say in its management. If he gambled away the fortune and the estate is entailed, he likely siphoned off the other members’ income. Yet, Parker, you said Francis is flush.”

  “Quite. And participation in the white slavery ring could explain why. He also had a reason to hate Lord Henry and you as well, Lord Arthur. It seems the current earl lost quite a bit of money at the gaming tables to both of you.”

  Both Arthur and Hal looked at him blankly.

  “Is that true, Arthur?” asked Vanessa.

  He shrugged. “I’m ashamed to admit there was a time when I didn’t pay much attention to whom I was playing. I very likely did play against him, though I can’t say I remember it.”

  “I remember him,” said Hal, slowly. “And I did play him a few times. It was just before I became friends with Francis. It’s funny that I never made the connection before. I remember Francis made some comment about his cousin being a sapskull.”

  “And you never discussed it after that?” asked Vanessa.

  “No. We had other, uh, interests.”

  “Like ruining a young girl,” said Parker.

  Hal ignored the accusation. “That makes more sense now, too. He probably goaded me into taking that wager as part of his plan to ruin me. I must confess he found the perfect revenge.”

  Vanessa reached over to take his hand. “Don’t worry, Hal. We’ll find a w
ay to make this right.”

  “Yes, well,” said Arthur, as he removed his wife’s hand from Hal’s, “right now we are here to put a stop to the slavery ring. Parker, do you have any proof?”

  “Unfortunately, not. I followed Francis into Newgate. I even saw him on the same cellblock where the prisoner was murdered. He was talking to someone, but since I was playing least in sight, I couldn’t see who it was. It was then that I was escorted off the premises, but as I was leaving the prison, I heard the alarms sound about the murder. He was right there. He could well have done it.”

  “And how do we know you didn’t do it?” asked Hal. “All we have is your word on all of this. For all I know, you invite the prostitutes to America only to sell them into slavery there.”

  “You only have my word as a gentleman,” said Parker.

  “Not good enough,” said Hal with some satisfaction.

  “Actually, Hal,” said Vanessa as she picked up a letter. “During our investigation we found letters from a former prostitute who’d journeyed to America and then written to a friend here in London. Everything she says in the letter seems to corroborate Mr. Parker’s version of his operation in America.”

  “She could have been coerced into writing it,” said Hal.

  “It seems rather sincere,” said Vanessa.

  “I still don’t trust him,” grumbled Hal.

  “And I’m still going to beat you senseless,” said Parker.

  “Mr. Parker,” said Arthur sternly, “while I understand the sentiment, he is my brother. And I believe it is time to talk to Charles Francis.”

  * * *

  Finding Charles Francis turned out to be a challenge. He wasn’t in his rooms and his valet said he hadn’t come home the night before.

  They left a constable to keep watch at his apartment, then they checked White’s and a few coffeehouses he was known to frequent. But it was all for naught. They decided to split up to increase the likelihood of catching up to him. Arthur and Vanessa went in search of him at his other clubs. Parker picked up Stapleton at Bow Street to comb the docks. And Hal searched the venues he knew best: the whorehouses and gaming establishments.

  He started with Madame Thurmond’s.

  “I’m surprised to see you again so soon,” said Aurelia Thurmond as she once again met with Hal in her private sitting room. “Have you decided what you’ll do about our mutual enemy?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have,” said Hal. “I am not going to pay him.”

  Madame Thurmond studied him for a moment, then gave him a slight smile. “You know, Lord Henry, if anyone can pull that off I believe it is you. Now what can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering about the identity of the blackmailer.”

  “As I told you, I do not know.”

  “But you have your suspicions.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you think it could be Charles Francis?”

  “The thought had occurred to me.”

  “You said he had information about you. How would he have obtained it?”

  “I’ve given that a fair amount of thought, as well. I am nothing if not discreet. But some secrets will out no matter what. And I have no shortage of enemies.”

  “I believe you may even have one in Newgate. Would your former employee Bleaker do you harm?”

  A light came on in the madame’s eyes as she considered it. “I believe Bleaker would do anyone harm, my lord. If the price were right.”

  “Would he do murder?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Thank you,” said Hal, as he rose to leave.

  “And thank you for your years of patronage, Lord Henry.”

  “You don’t think you’ll see me again?”

  “I do not believe the new Lady Henry would allow it. But should the two of you ever like to visit again, do let me know.”

  * * *

  Hal was finally able to track Francis down at a private room in Dill’s. Conrad Patton himself showed Hal to the chamber, where the disheveled Francis was finishing a game. He looked like he’d been up all night.

  “I think he’s been expecting you, Lord Henry,” said Patton. The owner hesitated a moment, before adding. “Do you think he had anything to do with Susan LaRue and the others who went missing?”

  “Do you?”

  Patton shrugged. “I learned a long time ago not to underestimate a person’s potential for evil. But if he did harm Susan, well, I’d like to take care of this myself.”

  Hal studied the man, as well as the two bruisers who were keeping their distance – for now. “Believe me, Patton, I bear a grudge against the man myself. But if he is guilty, the law will take care of him.” He paused for a moment as he looked Patton in the eye. “And no one else.”

  Patton smirked, knowing Hal would be no match for him and his boys. “Say what you will, but it could be right dangerous for a bloke to come between me and what I want done.”

  “Thank you for the warning, Patton. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will speak to Francis. In private.”

  Hal pushed past the man and entered the room, nodding to the men who’d been playing Francis and were now leaving. Francis quietly gathered his winnings, not looking at Hal.

  “Are you here to call me out, Hal?”

  “Do I have reason to?”

  Francis looked up at him, with bloodshot eyes and the dissipated manner of someone who’d spent too long in his cups, with too much hatred in his heart. “Probably about as much reason as I have to call you out.”

  “I doubt that. I’m not blackmailing you. And, more importantly, I’m not harming an innocent.”

  “Sit down Hal, it hurts my neck to look up at you.”

  Hal remained standing.

  “I forgot. People don’t order Kellingtons around. How ‘bout I phrase it like a question. Will you do me the honor, Lord Henry, of taking a seat at this table?”

  Hal took a seat.

  “Much better,” said Francis. “Now, to the question of harming innocents. The point is moot, is it not, since Miss Sutton is no longer innocent?”

  Hal was out of his seat in an instant, slamming his fist into Francis’s jaw. Both men fell over backward onto the floor. But before they could fight further, Patton and his men burst in. With a nod from Patton, his boys separated Francis and Hal.

  “There’ll be none of that,” said Patton. “At least not until we get answers.” He sent his two bodyguards back out to the hall, then closed the door after them. “Why don’t you continue, Lord Henry?”

  “This is a conversation best held in private,” he replied.

  “Then you should have met in a place that was not owned by me. I’m staying.”

  Hal could see the man was in earnest, so he began again. “Francis, are you blackmailing me?”

  Francis looked at him, and for a moment Hal thought he would not answer.

  “Yes,” said Francis. “You are one of many.”

  “You bastard,” said Hal, wanting to hit him again.

  “Actually, I believe my poor mama was dutiful to my father. So that is one sin you may not lay at my feet. Although there are plenty of others that fit.”

  “Why?” asked Hal. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can. And because you deserve it.”

  “What have I ever done to you, besides win some blunt off your cousin?”

  For the first time, Francis’s demeanor broke and Hal could see real anger in him. “If there is a villain in this piece, it is you, dear Hal. It is almost always you.”

  He continued, dabbing at a cut above his eye. “When you sleep with another man’s wife, when you so blithely flirt with innocent misses who hold out hope that you will marry them, when you win small fortunes at cards from young men who idolize you and cannot afford the losses, you are the villain. But all is so easily forgiven when one is a Kellington. When you’re done with the women, you don’t see the broken marriages. You don’t know about the debutantes who refuse suitors in ho
pes that you will come courting. You don’t care about fortunes lost and families devastated by sums considered insignificant by Kellington standards. It is all beneath your notice.”

  “But you don’t care about the cuckolded husbands, the broken-hearted debutantes.”

  “You’re right, I do not. But once my cousin squandered his fortune, there was almost nothing left. As the youngest son of a youngest son, I cannot be poor, Hal. And most of the wealthy chits have their sights set on men like you. You, who have never known what it’s like to be without blunt, while I must use my wits to earn every guinea. I resented you long before my cousin’s folly. It was only after spending time with you that it turned to hatred. And now your life will be as miserable as mine.”

  Patton cleared his throat. “That is all well and good, but what I care about is the girls. Are you involved with the white slavers?”

  “I wish that I were,” said Francis. “I’ve heard they make loads of blunt.”

  Patton rose to every menacing inch of his height. “You’ll answer my question Francis or you’ll know pain you never even dreamed of. Are you involved with taking them women?”

  Francis did his best to contain his expression, then shook his head. “No.”

  “Why should we believe you?” asked Hal.

  “You shouldn’t, probably,” said Francis. “Except for the fact I owe Patton here ten thousand quid and he’s likely as not going to have one of his bruisers break an arm before I leave here tonight, although…” Here he pushed his winnings across the table to Patton. “There’s almost eight thousand there. I hope it will convince you to give me some time. I must be a pretty bad white slaver if I can’t pay my debts. It’s one of the reasons I turned to blackmail. Well, that and revenge.”

  “Is this true?” Hal asked Patton.

  Patton nodded, as he counted up the winnings. “Yes, which does seem to indicate he’s not involved. Though I would still like to turn my boys loose on him, just the same.”

 

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