by Rebecca King
Arthur began to make his way to the door only to realise that Ryan was still in the room. Stopping, he turned around and bowed before resuming his journey to the door.
“Arthur. Sian stays here and so do the ladies. I warn you now that any attempt to remove them forcibly from this property will be viewed as kidnap. They are now under my protection. Seeing as you are financially not in any position to look after any of them, I shall be taking over their care. It is their choice if they go to Sophia’s or not. What I will tell you is that our business will be concluded by the end of business tomorrow, at which point you are on your own. I no longer wish to do business with someone who isn’t prepared to resolve financial problems or seek the help of others if there is a problem. Good business dealings work on co-operation and collaboration. Working with others builds solid investments, and good business practice. Working in isolation will bring the downfall of arrogance and I am not prepared to allow you to financially hinder any business I am connected to. Your private affairs need your attention and I suggest you work on those before you look to venture into any further business investments. Take a sound word of advice from me and find out why Wilhelmina has picked out Cedrick of all people to try to marry Sian off to. Have you asked her that? Is it just because he is the only eligible bachelor she knows, or is there some other hidden reason for her wanting to force through a marriage to him? There is one thing about Wilhelmina that strikes me as odd, it is that she is a very selfish human being who is avaricious, and has little concern for others. I think you should ask yourself why she is so interested in the marital welfare of one of her nieces suddenly. Why now? Whatever for? Has she ever shown any interest in them before?”
When Arthur merely stared at him, Mabel slowly shook her head.
“Then I suggest you concern yourself with what your sister is truly up to before you condemn any of your daughters. Until then, I am taking over the guardianship of your wife and daughters because of your financial plight. Meantime, if you call by here again, make sure you leave Wilhelmina and Cedrick at home where they belong.” Ryan’s made sure he sounded as bored as humanly possible.
Really, Ryan was intensely annoyed. Having witnessed Arthur’s arrogance toward his wife, he could understand Sian’s objection to wedlock and Mabel’s misery. What struck him was that Arthur wasn’t upset at the loss of his immediate family. He was simply angry that his decisions, his choices, were being objected to in the first place. He wasn’t hurt, beside himself with misery, or even worried at all. He was condemning of everyone except himself.
“You are a little too like Wilhelmina, Arthur, and I abhor that,” Ryan murmured.
Arthur opened his mouth to object. He glared at Ryan but then seemed to remember who Ryan was. Without uttering a word, he stalked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
“That is the problem, isn’t it? He is a lot like Wilhelmina,” Sian whispered.
“Oh, my dear. Did we wake you up? I am sorry,” Mabel gushed. “How are you feeling?”
“I am tired, but my head doesn’t hurt all that much now,” Sian replied. She tried to sit up but struggled because the room began to swirl alarmingly.
“How much of that did you just hear?” Ryan asked, pointing across the room at the door.
“All of it,” Sian replied. “Well, I think from the part where my father entered the room. His voice woke me up.”
Ryan ambled over to the bed and perched a hip on the edge. “How do you really feel?”
Sian winced. “How do you do that?”
Ryan grinned.
“My head is pounding, the room is swimming around me, and I am hungry yet feel queasy at the same time,” she reported honestly, throwing him a rueful look.
Ryan’s smile widened. “It may be the Laudanum the doctor gave you. He said that if you have too much it might make you feel sick.”
“My head feels fuddled.” Sian tried to rub the temple only for Ryan to capture her hand and hold it.
“Let’s get you something to eat, and then you can get some more sleep.” Ryan relayed what the doctor had told him. “Meantime, your mother can fetch her things with Martha and Lucinda, and you can all then decide what you are going to do.”
“It is so very good of you to do this,” Mabel whispered tearfully.
“Nonsense. I hope my involvement will make Arthur want to do something about the mess the family is in. Only he can do it.”
“He has to come down off his high horse,” Mabel said. “I don’t think he is ever going to do that. He has always been a little high-handed, but always seemed to know what he is doing. Now that we are in a financial mess, I really have to question if he has any wisdom at all.”
“He doesn’t talk to anybody,” Sian whispered. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he told us what was going on. While we cannot come up with any business propositions, we might have been able to do something. I mean, although father objects to him, Martha’s intended, Isambard, works as an accountant. Surely he would have been able to study father’s books and come up with some solutions to help him solve his financial problems, wouldn’t he?”
“Isambard Rodgers?” Ryan’s brows shot skyward.
“You know him?”
Ryan nodded. “I hear Mr Richardson is most pleased with his progress and intends to offer him a better position soon.”
Sian shared a smile with her mother, who looked inordinately pleased.
“He is a likeable fellow,” Ryan added.
“You see? Yet Arthur refuses to allow him across the threshold because Wilhelmina objected to Isambard’s father being a blacksmith,” Mabel added, turning angry again.
“Well, a week or two pandering to Wilhelmina’s dictates should be enough to force Arthur to reconsider his stance. If he doesn’t, then he is going to be a very lonely and very destitute old man,” Ryan mused.
Privately, he had no intention of allowing Wilhelmina to tear the family apart while she furnished her lifestyle with things she couldn’t afford. He fully intended to find out whatever he could about Wilhelmina Mullens, and Cedrick. For now, Ryan tugged on the bell pull.
“First, let’s get you some food. Once we have all had something to eat, I will arrange for a carriage to take you home so you can fetch your things,” he told Mabel. “Meantime, Sian can follow the doctor’s orders and rest and recuperate.”
“Are you sure father is going to allow you to fetch your things?” Sian asked of her mother.
“I cannot see how he can object seeing as he isn’t going to have a need to wear my dresses. Wilhelmina certainly cannot have them, and I don’t intend to stay there. What is Arthur going to do, keep me under house arrest until I agree to stay? I think trying to force people to do things they don’t wish to do has caused everybody enough misery already, don’t you?”
For once, Sian didn’t argue. Instead, she settled back against the pillows and looked at Ryan. He looked tired, but so vibrantly handsome that she wanted to reach out and touch him. There were so many things she wanted to say that she wasn’t at all sure where she should start. In the end, while listening to the lull of her mother and Ryan’s amiable conversation, Sian fell sound asleep once more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“That’s interesting,” Ryan murmured with no small measure of relief.
He threw the newspaper back onto the table and leaned back to finish his toast. The breakfast room was otherwise quiet; the ladies having taken breakfast trays in their rooms. Sian, he knew from having already checked twice that morning, was still sound asleep.
“What is?” Norman mumbled around a mouthful of egg. He picked up the broadsheet and read the page Ryan had left open for him. He finished chewing and then grinned. “Oh, that.”
Ryan squinted at him. “Would you happen to know anything about it?”
Norman shrugged. “Might do. A good friend of yours might have gone to the newspaper office yesterday and blocked the notice of her engagement being printed.”
R
yan shook his head at him but ruined it with a grin. “Have I ever thanked you for interfering?”
“No, but you can whenever you like,” Norman smiled. “I think that you would do best to amend the advertisement and announce your engagement to her.”
“Sian would have a fit,” Ryan snorted. “I want things done properly with Sian. I don’t want any part of our relationship to be forced because of other people’s machinations. I want things to happen naturally, so we progress whenever we feel ready.”
“You are in love with her, that’s what you are. You need to tell her how you feel and make it clear to her father that he cannot find anybody else more titled or worthy than you, so he can bugger off with weaselly Cedrick, and take that Wilhelmina witch with him.” Norman nodded before snatching a mouthful of bacon. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “How do you want to handle them? I take it you are going to do something?”
“Of course,” Ryan murmured smoothly and with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I am not going to allow the love of my life to marry someone else. I fully intended to do whatever I have to, even if that means I do a few underhand dealings of my own.”
“Like what?” Norman temporarily forgot his breakfast and stared at Ryan while he waited.
“We have to go and to Wilhelmina’s house and see if we can find out just how damaged it is, and how swiftly it can be repaired. Arthur may not be able to afford its repairs, but it won’t make a dent in my purse. I do think there is more to this Cedrick than meets the eye. We need to find out who he is, but I doubt he moves about in society, and we don’t have time to go trawling around back alleys to find people who might know him.”
“Ask Mabel if she knows who Cedrick’s family are. Maybe all it is going to take is a quick visit to his relations to find out a little more about where this Cedrick comes from.”
Ryan huffed a laugh. “You should be a private detective.”
Norman nodded. “I would, but I am too lazy to chase after anybody.”
Ryan grinned.
“But you cannot go after this Cedrick alone, my lord. It won’t do to have you making enquiries. I will go in your stead. Nobody knows who I am.” After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Norman slammed a fist down onto the table. “That’s it!”
“What?” Ryan blinked at him and wiped coffee off his shirt. “What is it?”
“I am going to have a little adventure of my own. First, we will go and see this Wilhelmina’s house and then I will pay a visit to this Cedrick’s mother. We need to find out what he does for a living, where he lives, who his connections are, and what his connection to Wilhelmina is. I can pretend to be a solicitor or something.”
“It won’t hurt to make a few enquiries about Wilhelmina as well,” Ryan advised.
“You are far too well known in the area for any of that. You must leave it to me,” Norman warned. “You look after Sian. I will look after Cedrick and the witch.”
Ryan laughed and shoved out of his chair, not least because he was eager to be on his way and get matters progressing that would get Wilhelmina out of everyone’s lives once and for all. He barely reached the door before Norman had caught up with him. Ryan paused beside the buffet long enough to snatch another strip of bacon before racing out of the door.
An hour or so later, Ryan dismounted and studied the house before him before he shook his head at Norman. Together, the men sauntered through the squeaking iron gate, and traversed the weed strewn path that led to the front door. While Ryan lifted the knocker, Norman peered through the huge bay window of the tall, narrow terraced house.
“It isn’t what I expected,” Ryan murmured.
“It’s small, and not very well maintained.” Norman kicked at the weeds. “The shutters are open, but there is no sign of fire damage.”
Ryan removed the small piece of paper Mabel had given him which contained Wilhelmina’s address. This was definitely the right property.
“No wonder Wilhelmina prefers to live at Arthur’s house. It is much nicer than this decrepit dump,” Norman snorted in disgust.
“Let’s go around the back,” Ryan suggested.
He eyed the narrow alley between Wilhelmina’s house and the neighbouring property, but Norman didn’t follow.
“Do you think it is safe to leave the horses?”
Ryan grinned and disappeared leaving Norman to make his mind up if he wanted to follow or guard the horses that would take them home. Minutes later, Ryan vaulted over the wall that bordered the yard at the rear of the house. He eyed the back door and contemplated how they were going to take a proper look if they couldn’t get inside.
“Hello there.”
Ryan stepped back when he heard that jovial cry. He turned around when he realised it came from an elderly gent who was now peering over the top of the wall at him.
“I say, are you the bailiffs?”
“No. Should I be?” Ryan pointed to the house. “She has them a lot, does she?”
The man rolled his eyes.
“Do you have a key? I have been told to come and have a look at the fire damage.”
“Fire damage?” The man looked puzzled.
“Has there not been a fire here?”
“Well, something happened the other day that led to her going away to visit relations, but I don’t think it was a fire,” the man reported.
“Do you have a key?” Ryan persisted.
“I think she might keep one in the store behind you.”
Ryan nodded his thanks but before he went to see if there was one, turned to the back door of the house. Curious, he turned the knob on the door and shook his head in disgust when the door swung inward without hindrance.
“She’s either lazy or doesn’t have anything worth stealing. Or, she might have left the house and not told Arthur.” Ryan looked at the neighbour who was watching him. “Does she still live here?”
The old man frowned. “I can’t rightly say. She took a lot of things with her when she left. It took a day or so to get everything stacked up in the yard.”
“Did she have a young man with her?”
“He helped her pack everything.”
“Does he come here often?”
“Aye, he is the son of a friend of hers.”
Ryan’s ears perked up. “Where does he live, do you know?”
The old man gave him an address which matched the one Mabel had given him.
“Thank you.” Ryan nodded his thanks and entered the still and silent house.
The only way to describe it was barren. It was empty; devoid of all sign of habitation. Even the furniture had gone, although it wasn’t at Arthur’s. It might be, but Arthur hadn’t mentioned he was having to store it. Because of the lack of outside storage at Arthur’s house, Ryan suspected Arthur didn’t have it.
“Did the bailiff’s take your furniture, Wilhelmina, or did you sell it because you knew you were going to move into Arthur’s house and wouldn’t need it? But why did you then tell him that a house fire had forced you to leave here? Surely you would have known that he would come and check, or want to do something to get the property repaired?” Ryan muttered to himself as he did a thorough search of the house from the attic through to the basement. He didn’t find even a stick of furniture, or an errant teacup. With a sigh, he made his way back to Norman, who was guarding the horses with a deep scowl.
“God, this is a bloody rough area,” he growled when Ryan was within earshot.
“Let’s go.”
Curious, Norman eyed his friend, but Ryan was already mounting his horse. As they rode through town, Ryan told his friend what he had found.
“Well, let’s go and see where Cedrick’s mother lives then, eh?” Ryan suggested, a little more eager now that he knew he was onto something that would ruin both Cedrick and Wilhelmina’s credibility.
Minutes later, they paused outside a small single-storey dwelling. At one point in its life it might have been painted white. Now, moss grew on the walls, and ivy cove
red practically everything else. It was old, and about as decrepit as Wilhelmina’s house had been. It was also occupied.
“Hello.” Ryan watched the old woman in the front garden blink in astonishment when she saw him. She eyed the fine cut of his clothing warily before she remembered her status and dipped into a curtsey.
“Are you Cedrick’s mother?”
“Cedrick?” The woman blinked. “He is my son, yes.”
“Cedrick Grant.”
“No. Cedrick Aldover,” the woman corrected, looking a mite relieved.
“That’s the one,” Ryan corrected. “Is he not at home?”
The old woman cackled. “He hasn’t lived here for nigh on twenty years, duckie, and he ain’t likely to neither. He doesn’t come to see me anymore. If he does, he is always after something.”
“Sounds like Cedrick,” Ryan muttered. “What of his acquaintance with Wilhelmina Mullen, can you tell me that much?”
“Never heard of the woman. I expect she is another of his doxies,” the woman grumbled.
“Cedrick doesn’t work then, eh?”
“Nah, he lives off them that he can call friends for a while, until they get tired of him. Then he moves on to someone else. That’s the way Cedrick works. Always has, always will, I expect.”
“It isn’t something to be proud of,” Ryan countered flatly because the woman sounded positively boastful about her son’s shocking attitude towards fleecing people.
“I ain’t sayin’ its right, it’s just what he does, duckie, that’s all.”
“So he lives off other people’s grace and favour,” Ryan muttered. He shook his head and shared a look with Norman, who had indeed been right when he had suggested that Cedrick was out to find a wife whom he could fleece off.
“Thank you for your time,” Ryan murmured to the older woman.
He quickly wheeled his horse around, barely giving the older woman a second look as he left the area far behind.
