He would need to find a wealthy woman whose parents did not have such an aversion to him. With his growing status in London, he was sure he could make some good connections. He now had an estate to bolster his value. Why was he still unacceptable in Patience’s parents’ eyes?
Walter felt sick to his stomach. His eyes locked on Patience—her fair, smooth skin, her auburn curls, the dimple near her mouth. He couldn’t have her. It was final.
“You must go now,” he said quickly, moving to unlock and open the door.
Patience hesitated, probably sensing the mood had shifted in the room once more.
“Have I done anything wrong?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No.” The word came out breathy, strained.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’ll see you when you return?”
“Undoubtedly.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. It was likely they would cross paths again. He just could no longer entertain the thought that they could be together.
Patience slowly walked to the door. Before she walked through it, she turned to face him, then put a hand on his arm. Her touch put all his senses on edge.
“Be careful,” she said quietly.
He wanted to scoop her into his arms, hold her tight, breathe in her rose and mint scent one last time. But he knew how that would shake his resolve. “You too,” he returned instead.
He walked her to the front door and let her go, watching her as she left. She turned to look back at him with a smile. He returned a small one back, but his heart shattered. It could very well be their final farewell. And she didn’t even know it.
Chapter Ten
LINCOLN'S INN GREETED him like a second home, the familiar scents welcoming him into the grand old building. Walter walked straight to Mr Welch’s office to discuss the Vanderbilt case.
When he entered the old barrister’s office, Mr Welch’s wrinkled grey eyes widened in surprise.
“Mr Longman! Back so soon?”
“Only for a day or two,” he said quickly. “I wanted to reaffirm my dedication to the Vanderbilt case. I have received your letters and reviewed every detail, memorizing them. I’ve already hashed out a strategy. But some things aren’t adding up. I need to do some digging to make sure I’m on the right track.”
He didn’t know when he would be able to make time to devote to both cases. He needed to get to the bottom of who murdered Daniel and why, but his ability to provide for his family hinged on solving the Vanderbilt case.
Mr Welch held up a hand, and Walter slowed his speech to a stop. His mentor cocked his head in confusion. “You are returning back to Wallingford?”
“Yes, just for another few days.” Walter watched anxiously as Mr Welch steepled his fingers together.
“My dear boy, I understand how much this case means to you.”
“Everything, sir.” He broke in, his mouth going dry. He sensed Mr Welch’s next words would not be pleasant.
“The counsel—myself included—believe you are under too much stress and trauma at this time. They wanted to go ahead and reassign the case to Mr Bamber, but I convinced them to hold off a few more days. Time is not on your side, Mr Longman.”
Walter leaned over Mr Welch’s desk, his hands splayed over the cool wood. “I swear to you I can handle this case.” His voice was earnest. “I only have a few more matters to wrap up at home, then I’ll be here, devoid of distractions.” He pushed the picture of Patience to the back of his mind. He’d already made his decision about her. All he needed to do was put his plans into action and pray it didn’t take her too long to get over him. He knew it might never happen for him.
Mr Welch peered up at Walter, his lips pressed firmly together. Walter held his breath, waiting for the answer he sought. Finally, his mentor let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair.
“I trust you, Mr Longman. I will keep the counsel off your back for a few days more. But this case can’t wait forever, and it needs England’s sharpest minds devoted to it.”
“I understand, sir.” Relief rushed through Walter, pierced by some slight anxiety. Small doubts pressed on him as he wondered if he truly was the best person for the case. With everything with which he was currently dealing, he was already worn too thin for his liking.
“Thank you,” Walter said. “I won’t disappoint.” He hoped he would be able to make good on his promise.
“See that you don’t,” Mr Welch said. “Your reputation isn’t the only one on the line here. I have vouched for you, knowing you have the capacity to rise to the top. Do not let me regret my choice.”
Walter gave him a curt nod before leaving the room. On his way out of the building, he passed Mr Bamber’s office. Unfortunately, his door was open.
Walter heard the hurried scrape of a chair and the quick steps as Mr Bamber caught up to him. “Back again?” he asked, falling into step at Walter’s side. “It’s about time. We were starting to wonder if you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
Walter clenched his jaw, not slowing his walk. “I haven’t, as you can clearly see,” he said. “I’m not giving up the case, Bamber.”
“I imagine you’re not.” Mr Bamber gripped Walter’s shoulder, forcing him to stop. He stiffened at the unwanted contact, staring into Bamber’s long face. “Don’t fool yourself. You are the least suitable person to take on this case, what with the family trauma you’re going through. If Vanderbilt is not found guilty, that’s on you.”
Walter shook Mr Bamber off him, knowing full well that the man was just trying to scare him off the case. “I am very capable of handling the case, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He turned on his heel, his coat ruffling past in his haste to get away from the vile man, and exited the parliament building, feeling the heat build until he felt the thrum of his heartbeat in his head.
He would not let Mr Bamber get inside his mind. He would win the case and build credibility and status. He would save his family from their debts by pursuing a wealthy woman whose money would dig them out of the hole they were stuck in. The thought turned his insides. It was easily said, but the practice would be another thing entirely.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind and took a hackney to the theater district. It was time to confront Miss Gabriella Fox.
When he reached the Haymarket Theater, it looked dark and uninhabited with tall white pillars guarding the entrance resolutely.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged between them, opening the front doors and ducking inside. The Theater’s musty smell mixed with candle wax and cigar smoke. The scent turned his mind to the candle wax factory from his village, and a dark feeling fell in the pit of his stomach.
Not a soul could be seen at the front, so Walter pressed on, walking deeper inside the Theater. He thought he heard voices shouting and opened a wide door, exposing a long line of red velvet seats that led to a stage.
Walter took in the scene. The theater was nicer than he had imagined for the shady part of town in which it resided. This was the kind of place that both wealthy and poor men could be entertained. He highly doubted women of status were ever found here. Which only deepened the mystery.
Four people stood on the stage, three men and one woman, dressed in Roman attire, reciting lines. The woman’s sheer dress plunged far below her neckline, revealing more cleavage than was proper. He averted his gaze, sick that his brother would associate himself with the place.
Another man stood at the foot of the stage, watching. He suddenly waved his hands, shouting.
“No! Brutus, you are miserable. Absolutely miserable. Do you want a tomato in your face? Put more feeling into your words.”
The man—Brutus—scowled in obvious disgust but didn’t argue. The woman looked at both of them in irritation, then lounged across a loveseat, plucking at the armrest.
Walter took the moment to step forward. As he walked between the rows of seats, all the actors’ eyes turned to him.
Their director noticed
their gazes and turned, his dark mustache bristling. “Do you mind, sir? We are in the middle of a rehearsal.”
“Apologies. I must speak to a Gabriella Fox. It is of the utmost importance.”
The actress rose from the loveseat. “I am she.” She looked down at him under heavily painted eyelids, her now curious eyes taking in all of him.
“A pleasure,” he said through tight lips. “May I have a word in private?”
“You cannot speak with her now,” the director whirled on him. “You will have to wait until after the rehearsal is finished.”
Miss Fox held her hand out to stop the director’s ravings. “Marcus, stop your shouting.” She turned her eyes back to Walter. “You may wait in my dressing room.” She pointed toward a side exit. “It’s the third door to the right. I’ll be in shortly.”
Walter nodded to her. “Thank you.”
He left the actors to their work, following Miss Fox’s instructions. He found her room and hesitated outside the closed door. It was improper for him to wait about in a lady’s room, but he needed answers. He opened the door and stepped inside, taking in the richly decorated room.
The cloying scent of perfume assaulted his senses. Racks of dresses and capes lined one end of the room, a mirror on the other. An assortment of toiletries littered the vanity. Lavish furniture sprawled through the small dressing room, crowding it.
Coughing from the fumes, Walter sat on a piece of the uncluttered furniture and waited.
He had been waiting no longer than ten minutes when the door flew open, and Miss Fox floated into the room, her dress trailing behind her. Walter quickly stood, uncomfortable with the whole situation.
“Forgive me for the wait,” she said, taking a seat at her vanity and unclasping large earrings. “What did you say your name was?”
Walter winced at the informality. “My name is Walter Longman. I believe you knew my brother, Daniel.”
Miss Fox froze before slowly lowering her hands, setting the second earring in a jewelry box. “Yes, I believe we’ve met,” she said.
Walter clenched his jaw at her secretive voice. “I have reason to believe you and my brother were having a romantic affair.”
Miss Fox laughed then. “Mr Longman, I would hardly describe your brother as romantic.” She turned in her seat to face him, her indiscreet gown showing too much of her womanly features. Walter averted his eyes, and she continued. “He visited the Theater a time or two, presented me with flowers, and said he’d like to court me. Penniless as I am, he was like a prince.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “But it quickly became clear those were mere words. He had no real intentions of making me comfortable.” She took her eyes back to her mirror.
Walter frowned at her. “Are you aware that he’s recently passed away?”
She pressed her red lips together. “I was not.”
Frustration blossomed in Walter. “His death may have resulted in foul play. Would you happen to know of anyone who might have wished harm on Daniel?”
She laughed again, the sound high and staccato. Fake. “Dear me, I hardly knew the man.”
“Are there any details you could provide me about your interactions?” Walter pressed.
“I should say not. Our interactions were private and not for me to disclose.”
Walter blanched. “Did you—” he stopped unable to fathom the idea that Daniel would throw his future away for one such as she.
Her brows raised, and she looked at him under hooded eyes. “What, sir? You cannot be oblivious of nature,” she stated dryly.
Walter’s temper flared. The whole situation was beneath him. “Did he pay you for... unsavory services?”
Her grin stretched, and Walter sickened at her lack of remorse for Daniel’s death. “Not everyone finds them unsavory,” she purred. Then she sobered, her smile disappearing. “No. I’m an actress, not a prostitute. I don’t take money for... unsavory favors.”
Walter was not fooled. She was trying to put an air of respectability about her, but he was not fooled.
“Then why meet privately?” he pushed.
Miss Fox traced her finger along the edge of her jewelry box. “We talked,” she said slowly. “About life. Family. He was caring, something you don’t often find. Too softhearted for my liking. I really do think he was smitten with me though.” She cast Walter an unpleasant look. “But he knew his family wouldn’t approve. I suppose I don’t blame you lot.” She stood, her gown rustling. “Are we finished?”
Walter grappled for more questions. He hadn’t gained any information to bring him closer to finding Daniel’s murderer.
“Do you care at all?” he finally blurted. “That he’s dead?”
Her dark brows lifted. “Of course, I do,” she said, though nothing in her tone suggested so. “I’m sorry for your loss. Such a tragic accident.” She gestured to the door. “The exit is on your left.”
Walter turned to leave, his mind spinning, then froze with his hand on the doorknob. He slowly turned back to her.
“Accident?” he repeated. “I never told you how he died.”
For a moment, a look of vulnerability crossed her face, before she quickly recovered. “I assumed he was in some sort of accident. He was a healthy man.”
Walter narrowed his eyes at her.
Irritation replaced her worry. “I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome, Mr Longman. If you do not leave, I will have you escorted out.”
Walter left the dressing room. Everything about this encounter was not right, and he would get to the bottom of it at all cost.
Even though coming here went against his every natural instinct, their hunch had been right. Miss Fox. She most definitely had something to do with Daniel’s death. The only question was why. If he could get to the bottom of that answer, he felt he would know everything.
He pulled in a deep breath of air that wasn’t clotted with perfume and moved down the small hall, ready to be as far away from this place as was humanly possible. He would be back in the evening to find out all there was to know.
Chapter Eleven
THE MURMUR OF THE CROWD waiting outside the Theater buzzed in Walter’s ears. He stood in line at the ticket booth, holding a bunch of flowers to act as a distraction. He needed to blend in. His pulse quickened as he prepared to play his part. The evening was vitally important though he’d need to get through tonight’s performance. The information he gleaned would hopefully fill in the holes of Miss Fox’s untold story. His instinct had to be correct. He had nothing else to go on, and his attention needed to get back to his case in London.
Walter shook his head, watching as both well-dressed men of class and people from the slums filtered into the Theater, loud and abrasive. How did his brother come to love Miss Fox? Was he truly taken by her beauty, or was there something more to his attraction?
It wasn’t completely out of the question that Daniel would have attended such an establishment for pleasure. Many of his station had. Daniel carried a lot of pressure on his shoulders. Walter wanted to understand his motivations but found he couldn’t.
Cavorting with an actress... that seemed largely out of character and highly irresponsible.
Walter purchased his ticket and entered the Theater, mingling with the crowd. Spirits were being consumed, and Walter couldn’t imagine how this crowd would be by the end of the night. He eventually found his seat, settling himself in a red velvet chair near the back of the Theater. As he waited for the performance to begin, raucous laughter echoing around him, his thoughts wandered to Patience. What would she think of his being here, attending a performance? He was determined to shelter her from the knowledge. She had already been through too much with her escapades in London. His eye’s clouded over as he realized he had no right to be her protector though everything in him longed for it to be different.
As the performance began, Walter quickly felt heat rise to his cheeks. He finally averted his eyes as the inappropriateness of the show sank in. He tried to cool his ange
r at Daniel and his affection for such ruckus entertainment.
He brought his attention back to the center as Miss Fox entered the stage, wearing a low-cut dress. Walter shook his head, more amazed than ever at his brother’s attraction to her.
Some of her words didn’t sit right with him. She had been careless as if Daniel had only been an escape to a better life and nothing more to her. But he’d read over her letter. It had dripped with longing, imploring Daniel to see her again. Either she had been lying to him about their relationship... or she’d been lying to Daniel.
Walter took one look at the curved smile on her lips and drew his own conclusions: she had been acting. Whatever love Daniel thought she had for him was all for show. Likely the moment she realized he couldn’t marry her, she ceased caring for him.
As the seduction on stage deepened, he couldn’t bear to watch it any longer. He stood, pushing his way past drunken men and found himself in the foyer where men were smoking and laughing, taking in the evening’s pleasures.
He absently wondered if Patience had come any closer to discovering why her mother was so opposed to him before instantly berating himself. It wouldn’t matter if she did. He wouldn’t be asking for her parents’ blessing a second time. His family came first. And the best way to take care of his family was to marry a wealthy woman.
He hated the idea of finding a partner he would not be attached to. Even the thought of falling in love with another woman was abhorrent to him. No matter who he ended up marrying, he would always love Patience. I should let her know that.
Applause sounded from inside the Theater, bringing him out of his musings. The doors opened wide, spilling out swaying men. Their ruckus deepened the more crowded the lobby became. Walter clutched the wilting flowers at his side and found his way down the corridor that led to the dressing rooms. He knew he would not be lucky enough to get another audience with Miss Fox, but if he could observe her and get a feel for the company she surrounded herself with, he knew he would find at least something to piece together the puzzle.
The Barrister's Challenge: A Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 2) Page 7
