He found the dressing rooms and pressed himself against the wall as patrons and actors alike poured from the Theater hall, still talking irreverently. Walter spotted the black ringlets of Miss Fox and nudged himself closer, making sure to keep out of sight. She was laughing with who he could only assume were her admirers—rich men that loomed over her like a possession, their eyes straying unabashedly from her face.
One man in particular caught his attention, and Walter froze, his eyes widening. He recognized the protruding belly, flabby face, and small, black eyes of Lord Pincock. Lord Pincock often frequented the House of Commons, presumably to visit with Mr Bamber. The two made a perfect pair.
Lord Pincock was a loud, eccentric man, but Walter was surprised to see him here. Walter kept back as he watched Lord Pincock dip his head to talk directly into Miss Fox’s ear. She winced away from him, then nodded with her head toward her dressing room. The two of them disappeared inside alone. Walter’s heart rate picked up as he realized this could not be a coincidence. There were too many connections—to him. His heart sank at what this might mean. He refused to think about it until he had solid proof.
A man next to the pair groaned, outwardly displaying his displeasure that only Lord Pincock got to enjoy the company of Miss Fox.
Another man scoffed, “They say money can’t buy happiness... I would be happy to have an hour alone with Miss Fox any day!”
Walter scowled at the man.
Eventually, the crowd began to clear as it became evident that Miss Fox would not be emerging from her dressing room anytime soon. With his stomach churning, Walter approached her dressing room door, subtly leaning his ear against the wall to catch something—anything—that would give him a hint to what Lord Pincock and Miss Fox were up to.
The halls still echoed with loud laughter, and he found it difficult to hear anything. But if he knew Lord Pincock at all, he knew the man couldn’t stay quiet for long. The longer one conversed with him, the louder his voice became.
Walter continued to listen, gripping the flowers when he heard the first bit from Lord Pincock. “His brother, eh?”
Walter strained to hear more. He caught a word. It could have been carriage. It could have been marriage.
“What’s this here then?” an annoyed voice said from beside Walter.
Walter startled, turning to face a man smoking a cigar, his coat tails covered in flecks of ash.
“Waiting for a chance at the miss?”
Walter shook his head. “No, no.”
The man’s eyes fell on the flowers.
Walter cleared his throat. “I was sent... by my brother. To give these to her. But she seems otherwise engaged.”
“I’ll say,” the man said, blowing smoke into Walter’s face. “Lord Pinprick or what’s his name is always meddling around here. You’d think he’d give another bloke a chance.”
Walter raised his brows. “Excuse me?”
The man shook his head, sighing. “Forget it. Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
Walter hesitated. “It... wasn’t my cup of tea.”
The man laughed, loud and obnoxious. “You don’t say? The girl’s got ya blushing, then?”
Walter needed to leave.
He heard Lord Pincock’s voice grow louder as the man who just interrupted him inched toward the door.
“Not a word, Miss Fox. Our little secret.”
Walter ducked past the smoking man.
“Excuse me,” he quickly moved away before Lord Pincock or Miss Fox found out he was there.
Chapter Twelve
IN THE SAFETY OF HIS flat, Walter paced his room, mulling over Miss Fox and her connection to Lord Pincock. Walter still only had a suspicion. The things he overheard were only snippets, and though he could connect the pieces, he needed solid evidence. His questions answered. It didn’t make sense that Lord Pincock was involved in Daniel’s death. The man was a Peer.
He never liked Lord Pincock. For the same reasons, he didn’t care for Mr Bamber. They were both snide and only thought to further their own ambitions. They were contemptuous to anyone beneath them.
Walter sat on his bed, planting his face in his hands. Had he known his brother had fallen so far, he would have dropped everything to help him. He would have gone over the finances with Daniel, actively searched for a suitable wife for him, gotten him away from all the brashness of the company he’d kept.
As Walter’s thoughts wandered back to Mr Bamber, he tightened his fists in frustration. The man was in a pinch among the counsel because he had botched up a handful of cases over the past year. He likely wanted the Vanderbilt case to re-establish his credibility as a barrister. But did he have other reasons? As Walter thought about Mr Bamber, he realized he didn’t know much about the man or his background. Walter didn’t even know if Mr Bamber had a wife or children.
He stood, forming a plan in his mind. He would go to the House of Commons tomorrow to see how deeply Lord Pincock was entrenched in the political atmosphere. Walter didn’t know if there was a connection, but something in the report of the Vanderbilt case caused his senses to be pinged. He needed to discover more about Mr Bamber and his connections. Perhaps he could glean new information about Lord Pincock while he was at it. Then he would leave for Wallingford that evening.
Satisfied with his plan, Walter undressed, his mind reverting back to Patience. He lingered on the image of her face in his mind, not having the heart to wish it away. Not after everything he’d witnessed tonight. He needed some form of comfort.
MR WELCH SWIPED AT his face, letting out a breath as he stared down at his notes. “Mr Vanderbilt was arrested after a man of importance staying at his inn was murdered. Stabbed to death. Do you remember what led to the arrest?”
Walter straightened in his chair, reviewing the details he had studied since taking on the case. “There was blood on his clothing, tucked under his bed.”
“Good man. And what have you found out about Mr Vanderbilt's defense?”
Walter cleared his throat. “Mr Vanderbilt had an alibi. He was checking out two guests at the time of the murder, and there is no clear motive. It appears the poor devil has been framed.”
Mr Welch nodded. “After looking into the victim’s history, we’ve discovered he had a problem with opium. We believe he could have been killed after cheating sellers out of their money.”
“Right. He often frequented the Blue Lotus.”
“And the men there have been known to be rough around the edges.” Mr Welch sat back in his seat, nodding his head. “I think you have something solid here, Mr Longman. Mr Vanderbilt will be out of prison as soon as we prove his innocence. But we need to find out who killed the heir presumptive, Viscount of Highfield. The crown wants this solved, and they will not let this go without solid proof of guilt placed elsewhere.” He locked his gaze on Walter. “The first trial will be held this time next week.”
Walter’s heart shot up into his throat, but he nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.” This didn’t give him enough time to stay in Wallingford and figure the mystery of Daniel’s murder, but he was vastly grateful that his mentor had listened to him. Walter knew other men would not have been as trusting in his abilities.
Mr Welch nodded in satisfaction.
Walter hesitated then leaned forward, lowering his voice. “What can you tell me about Mr Bamber?”
Mr Welch snorted, fishing for his pipe. “What do you want to know?”
“Who does he acquaint himself with?” he asked.
“An odd question, Mr Longman.” Mr Welch lit his pipe and stuck it between his teeth. “He’s commonly found among the elite, I believe. They like to have a good lawyer in their pockets.” He winked.
Walter frowned. “And why would that be?”
Mr Welch shrugged. “When you’re rich, sometimes things get out of hand, and before you know it, a law’s been broken and their reputation is on the line.”
“Is Lord Pincock the type to break the law?” Walter asked.
Mr Welch laughed. “Lord Pincock? No, I don’t believe so. The poor man can be a bit eccentric, but who can blame him? He’s lost four wives in his lifetime. That could make any man a bit odd.”
Walter jolted at this new information. “Four wives? What happened to them?”
“I don’t know the details. I just know the jokes floating around town.” The head barrister smiled. “Word is he’s looking for a fifth wife. Only thing is, all the women think he’s jinxed with bad luck. They don’t want to be the unlucky fifth wife, no matter how much blunt he has.”
Mr Welch laughed, and Walter tried to force a smile, but his head was spinning, absorbing all the new information. “Who else does Mr Bamber spend his time with?”
Mr Welch narrowed his eyes at Walter. “Why such an interest in the man?”
“He seems to be eyeing my position on the case,” Walter said. “I just want to know who I’m up against.”
Mr Welch puffed on his pipe for a moment, his face growing sober. He looked to the closed office door, then at Walter. Removing the pipe from his mouth, he leaned forward, lowering his voice.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this.... But you have the right to know.”
Walter’s ears pricked at the secrecy in Mr Welch’s voice as his hands clenched in his lap.
“Mr Bamber has been presenting the counsel with arguments of his own about the Vanderbilt case. He’s not being paid for it, but he’s looking more and more appealing. It’s a good thing you’ll be back for the first trial, because if you weren’t, the position would most certainly have gone to him.”
Walter knit his brows. “Why does he want it so badly?”
Well...” Mr Welch’s voice dipped even lower. “He’s been on the wrong side of one too many cases, as you know. But more than that... if he had won this case, he would have been promoted as head barrister.”
Walter cocked his head. “But you’re head barrister in this council.”
Mr Welch licked his lips. “I’m retiring after this case.”
Walter’s eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t know.”
“I haven’t told many people. I’m not actually sure how Mr Bamber found out. But he’s next in seniority, so it makes sense he replaces me. He’s just had so many mess ups that the counsel is open to promoting someone else.” He shrugged. “Perhaps you’ll be promoted as head barrister, depending on your upcoming performance. You’ve proven to be effective in your occupation thus far.”
Things began to fall into place for Walter. Of course Mr Bamber was upset that Walter had gotten the case. If Mr Bamber didn’t get the promotion, it wasn’t likely he would get it for another several years, if ever. He would be stuck where he was until he retired, making half what he could be making as head barrister.
But if Walter made head barrister—a rush of adrenaline hit him at the prospect. He could easily pay off his debts. He could even risk taking Patience as his wife.
Hope blossomed in Walter until it turned into a flame. Now, more than ever, he had to win this case.
“I must leave you now, sir.” His voice wavered as he stood. “I’ve got a few things to sort before returning to Wallingford.”
“Very good, son. We’ll get cracking on that case when you return.”
Walter left the office and nearly ran outside. He needed to get to the library, so determined was he to find more information on Lord Pincock and his wives.
As he stepped outside, he almost rammed into the man himself.
Lord Pincock blinked rapidly when he spotted Walter.
“Mr Longman?” he spluttered. “May I offer my deepest condolences. I saw the tragedy in the paper, and Mr Bamber was so kind as to provide me with the details.”
Walter tried to remain expressionless.
“Thank you,” he said, as he tried to duck past Lord Pincock.
“I’m surprised to see you in London so soon,” Lord Pincock’s voice rose, causing Walter to halt. “I expect you are still grieving.”
Walter turned to face the man. “I am handling myself well, thank you. I have returned to work on an important case.”
Mr Pincock’s beady eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes. Mr Bamber has told me all about it.” The large man approached Walter, setting a heavy hand on his shoulder. He leaned in, his voice low. “Mr Bamber has friends in high places.” He breathed a puff of tobacco stained air in Walter’s face. “They would all like to see him take on this case. They’d like to see someone... more qualified. Someone who isn’t still racked with grief.”
Walter stared at Lord Pincock. The menacing tinge in his expression could not be misunderstood. He opened his mouth to confirm before Lord Pincock continued.
“If I were you, I’d return home and take care of that sweet mother and sister of yours.” He paused. “Oh, yes, and Miss Hawthorne is your neighbor, correct? A lovely girl. I’d hate for any kind of harm to come to her.”
Walter’s blood ran cold as he backed away, bowing. “Good day, Lord Pincock.”
Lord Pincock dipped his hat and proceeded into the hall.
Walter’s heart picked up its pace as he raced to the library. He pulled out all the pertinent records he could find of Lord Pincock, pouring over newspaper clippings to glean any information.
The last death was two years ago. The late Lady Pincock had grown suddenly ill and passed away from an unknown sickness. Walter knit his brow, looking over any news from the weeks leading up to and following her death. He found an article claiming Lord Pincock had collected all her assets after her passing, increasing his fortune.
Walter continued to dig as a shudder ran through his body. Each one of Lord Pincock’s wives had died from some unknown illness, all with the same symptoms. All but the first Lady Pincock. She had fallen from a cliff into the sea while they were away on holiday.
Walter’s fingers grew cold as he read. Everyone knew Lord Pincock was eccentric and a bit of a lady’s man, but no one could ever suspect...
He stared at the pictures of each wife—young, from wealthy families. His stomach lurched as his suspicions rose. Lord Pincock could have killed off each of his wives to increase his fortune. If Lord Pincock wasn’t afraid to take a life, even that of a life-long companion, what else was he capable of?
A lovely girl, Lord Pincock’s words hit him like a battering ram. I’d hate for any kind of harm to come to her.
Patience.
Walter hastily shoved the newspapers back into the archive as he hurried from the library. The only thing in his racing thoughts was of Patience and her safety.
Chapter Thirteen
PATIENCE COULDN’T SIT idly by, doing nothing about helping Walter solve the mystery of his brother’s death. She was determined to investigate the new groom and maid’s past, if only to give her something useful to do while she awaited Walter’s return. She and Henrietta used to be good friends and was sure Walter’s little sister wouldn’t mind the company. She might know more about the new hires than Walter did since she had been home at the time of their employment.
Patience loudly banged the knocker at the front of the Longman’s estate house and waited. The butler opened the door, knitting his brows at her.
“How may I assist you, miss?”
She smiled at the old man who had been serving the Longman family for as long as she could remember.
“I’d like to pay Henrietta a visit.”
“Right this way miss,” he sniffed, stepping aside, letting her into the front parlor.
“Thank you.” She settled on a chair while she waited for Henrietta.
Her eyes wandered to the paintings on the walls then to the flowers from the funeral that were starting to wilt.
Footsteps sounded from outside the room as Henrietta entered, looking at Patience in surprise.
“Miss Hawthorne. I wasn’t expecting your arrival today.”
Patience stood. “I was hoping to give you some company, Henrietta. We haven’t talked in so long.”
She hoped s
he wasn’t intruding on the girl. She had been closer to Walter’s age and as such had always gravitated toward him instead of his sister.
Henrietta looked at Patience, her eyes still sad from losing her brother.
“I haven’t seen many people since the accident.”
Patience’s heart fell. This whole time she had been giving all her worries to Walter, forgetting that his family had been grieving as well if not more so because they had depended on Daniel for so much.
“I understand, and I’m sorry I’ve stayed away for so long. I should have remembered you and not just Walter.”
Henrietta looked at her, with a question in her eyes, and rightfully so. After things fell apart with her brother and then being brought back so suddenly from London, it was a wonder that anyone in the neighborhood would welcome her at all.
Henrietta paused, glancing awkwardly at her, and Patience took this as her opportunity. She looked around, trying to communicate her true purpose in coming here.
“It’s especially tidy in here. Did you acquire a new maid?”
Henrietta looked around as well, a frown creasing her brow. She took on Walter’s countenance as she frowned.
“Yes, I believe so. Anna. She’s a sweet woman. About your age.” Henrietta gestured to the loveseat. “Please, sit down.”
Patience retook her seat. “How are you faring? Is there anything I can do to help ease your burdens?”
Henrietta sat gracefully across from Patience and clasped her hands in her lap.
“I’m as well as one might expect. I suppose only time will dull the pain, but it will never go away. Not completely.” She lifted her eyes to Patience. “I’ve been writing a new song to pass the time. Would you like to hear?”
“Yes, I certainly would,” Patience said, thankful to have more time in Walter’s home.
The Barrister's Challenge: A Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 2) Page 8
