by Abigail Agar
Avery grimaced. “Yes. A few of the minor details were different, but the story was the same.”
Penelope asked, “So what is going to be done about this?”
Penelope could tell Avery had given it a great deal of thought. His answer was immediate.
“I think you’d be better off in a convent –”
“What?” she said louder than she intended.
“Please hear me out, Penelope. As I was saying, it would be a good place for you; Henry can never get you there, and with your injury, there’s no marriage in your future.”
In a hard voice, Penelope said, “That is not an acceptable answer.”
“Well, Penelope, it may be the only answer since there is extremely limited communication with the outside world.”
Penelope looked away, “I see.”
Avery gave her a small smile. “I knew you would.”
“Our arrangement now, where I keep a roof over your mother and your brother’s heads as well as yours, is done out of the goodness of my heart. I love doing it, and I hope nothing changes in the future that I would have to give up my generosity to your family.
“And you especially. The injury you have had to your face will definitely cause you never to marry. You’re young. You will be a spinster for a very long time. I fully anticipate taking up the task of your well-being for the rest of your life. So, that means spend the rest of your days in a convent or under my generous care.”
Penelope’s voice was shaky. “So, I can go into a convent and not talk that way, or I can live with my family with a roof over our heads indefinitely if I don’t talk.
“Yes.”
“I want you to promise me you’ll take care of my mother and my brother for as long as they need or want your help.”
“I promise. And I want your promise that you will not discuss this event ever again.”
“I promise.”
“You’re very wise and mature for your age.”
“That’s because I’ve had to take care of myself and my family more than most fourteen-year-olds.”
Avery put his hands on his thighs then stood. “Well, now that settled, I’ll leave you to your recovery.”
Chapter 26
Wilson looked up from his papers on the desk. “What is it, Preston?”
“The Duke of Somerset is here to see you.”
Wilson furrowed his brow then sighed. “Show him in.”
Wilson moved around his desk to greet Avery. They bowed. Wilson poured two whiskies, and they sat.
Avery smiled and started on his whisky. “I usually don’t see you this time of month, Wilson, but I thought I’d check in on my investments.”
Wilson readjusted himself in his chair “the Coppermine, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
Wilson turned a few pages in his ledger book and looked up. He thought the delay would steady his nerves, but it didn’t. “That investment was sold to another party on the fourteenth of last month.”
Wilson folded his hands on his desk as if to brace himself from the coming storm.
“Sold. I don’t understand.”
“Sometimes, when another investor shows interest in a certain portfolio and guarantees a larger return on the investment than I can provide, we agree to a portfolio sale.” Wilson looked down at his ledger.
“The new portfolio manager has guaranteed an additional eight per cent return. I thought it an excellent payout to the funds invested.”
Avery nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Who is managing this portfolio now?”
“Nash Finch.”
Avery bolted out of his chair, spilling his whisky on his hand. “This is unacceptable. Why was I not notified of this?”
Wilson picked up his papers and bounced the ends off the desk to make them into a neat, straight pile. He waited until Avery took his seat again and looked up. “When the portfolio return is guaranteed to improve because of the sale, investors do not need to be notified. I still oversee the investment.”
Avery rose again. “Enough of this. You have recklessly used my investment for a benefit I can’t begin to understand.” He pointed at Wilson, “I’ll talk to Nash, and deal with you later.”
Avery’s feet pounded out of Wilson’s office. He slammed the door shut for good measure. As soon as he heard the front door click shut, Wilson called for Preston.
“I’m leaving. I don’t know when I will be back.”
Preston bowed and left. Wilson went out the back door, through the mews onto the next street, and beyond. He could get to Nash’s townhouse quicker by walking than if he took his carriage in the afternoon traffic.
Coleman came into the library. “Your Grace, the Duke of Manchester is here.”
“Send him in.” Penelope put her book down and stood.
“Your Grace,” Penelope curtsied.
“Your Grace,” Wilson responded.
Penelope offered Wilson a chair and sat across from him. “May I call for tea?”
“No, no thank you. I’ve come to see Nash, but I understand he is not at home?”
“That’s correct. I’m not sure when to expect him. Is there anything I can do or any message I can pass along?”
“It’s about an investment portfolio. I’ve decided to have it transferred back to me. Nash is holding it now. Just let him know that Avery will be visiting him in bad humour about it.” Wilson looked up at Penelope for the first time since entering the library and furrowed his brow. “You seem distressed, Your Grace. How can I help you?”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. You caught me at a bad moment. I’ll be fine, thank you.”
“It’s Henry Stanton, isn’t it?”
Penelope nodded but said nothing.
“Nash says Henry is bothersome to you. Has he done something?”
“No. I think I’ve put the whole thing to rest.” Penelope swatted the air. “I’m being silly. It will all work out.”
“Well, if I –”
A knock came on the door.
Penelope looked at Wilson. “Excuse me.”
He nodded.
“Come in.”
Coleman entered. “The Duke of Somerset has come to see the Duke. In his absence, he would like to meet with you, Your Grace.”
She nodded. “Please give us a moment.”
Coleman closed the door behind him. Penelope looked at Wilson whose eyes were darting around the room.
“I don’t want Avery to know I ran over here to tell Nash about an investment of Avery’s that has issues. Is there anything I can do?”
Penelope smiled. Behind a three-foot wall, a door led to another door into the study. “Is this sufficient? You may listen to get more information if you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Penelope pulled the bell, and Coleman ushered Avery in. Penelope curtsied, and Avery bowed.
“Penelope, I must speak with Nash immediately. Do you know where he might be?”
Penelope grimaced for effect. “I don’t. Is it anything I can help you with?”
“No, of course not.” He lifted his head and saw Penelope’s red eyes and nose.
“What has you upset, my dear. Is it Henry? Because if it is, I told you I would take care of it. Even though he threatened to kill you, you are safe. You needn’t worry he will carry out the threat.”
Penelope let go a funny noise in her throat that sounded similar to a cough. “I told you before, Uncle Avery, I don’t feel safe.”
Avery stepped closer to Penelope and rubbed her arms. Penelope thought Avery never saw her as a grown woman. He took in a ten-year-old, and she wasn’t quite sure what age Avery thought of her now, even though she was sure he knew her age. There was a difference between her real age and the age he had in his mind’s eye. Whatever that mythical age might be, that was how he treated her.
“You know, Penelope,” he said, bending his knees so he was face-to-face with her, “he hasn’t tried to kill anyone since that time he tried to kill you.”
Penelope put her hand to her head. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Avery nodded. “Well, yes, I suppose it is. I don’t think he’ll ever try to kill you again.”
Wilson walked out behind the wall shaking his head. “Avery, do you realize what you are saying? You don’t think he’ll try to kill her again?”
He turned to Penelope. “Is that scar –”
Penelope said, “Yes.”
“And that was six years ago? And you have been letting him walk free and living under the same roof as –”
“Well yes, but –”
“Avery. There’s no justification for this. You’ve been harbouring a man who committed attempted murder. Harbouring a criminal. Are you aware of how much jail time you should be doing right now?”
Avery’s face was the colour of beets. “But he didn’t –”
“That’s just dumb luck that he didn’t kill her.”
Wilson looked at Penelope then at Avery. “Penelope, could you please leave us?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. This is my life, and I will be an active participant in it.”
Wilson looked at Avery, his eyes burning. “You are complicit in attempted murder.” Avery opened his mouth to speak, but Wilson put up his hand to stop.
“Whatever else Henry has done over the years, you are complicit in. That leaves you and your title and lands vulnerable.
“You have somehow bought or threatened Penelope’s silence – probably threatening the roof over her family’s head or, as is done all the time, threatening to place her in a convent. But there is no way you can buy me. In fact, you have a great deal of your money with Nash and me.
“You will commit Henry to bedlam. Today. That’s the only way to stay out of jail. If he goes to jail, you are an accessory, and you do too.”
Avery was rubbing his eyes with his middle finger and thumb. Wilson wasn’t sure he was listening.
“Avery? Avery, are you listening to me? We are solving this Henry problem here and now. No one goes anywhere until this is solved to me and Penelope’s satisfaction.”
Penelope had been watching, her folded hands in her lap. She slowly lifted her head and looked at Wilson.
“I have a third option. I’m not sure anyone will like it, but it’s not so . . . unseemly.”
Wilson moved forward in his chair.
“Well, Henry could live in the dower house alone except for an armed guard who watches him day and night. He can’t leave the property, can’t come to London, and can’t be the next Duke.”
“You could say he enjoys living in the country more than London.” Penelope sat back, smiling, pleased with herself.
Avery lifted his head suddenly. “That’s it. That’s a perfect plan.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Wilson put up both hands, palms out. “I want two armed guards around him 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I want bars on every window of the dower house. Are there any secret passages, rooms or exits?”
Avery shook his head. “Not that I know of, but I’ll make sure of it.”
“Shoot to kill orders. No horses, no carriages, no knives, no pistols, no weapons at all. What am I forgetting?”
Penelope looked at Avery and in a stern voice said, “I mean it, Uncle. He cannot be your heir.”
Avery nodded. “I understand.”
Wilson turned to Avery, “You will set up an account for me and me only so I can pay contractors for changes that need to be made to the dower house and to pay the guards. That way, I don’t have to go up to your estate to make sure everything’s done to my specifications.”
Penelope stood. “I’ll write out the agreement for all three of us to sign.”
Wilson turned to Avery. “She’s done well by you. You don’t go to jail; you don’t have a scandal. You get to save face.”
***
Avery turned to Henry.
“As I told you I would, I have thought long and hard about your behaviour. Penelope’s ‘accident’ happened six years ago. I’ve lectured you repeatedly about your behaviour, but it has not changed. A day doesn’t go by when I wonder what you may have done or may be doing that will at least reflect badly on our standing and at most could send you to jail.
“To this day, you don’t seem to understand that you could be charged with attempted murder at any time. Cecilia, Penelope, or Edward could make that happen. And over the years, you have been reckless with your behaviour, and it could send you to jail with more minor charges. Reckless behaviours that you don’t consider the consequences of before you act.”
“But I am heir to the Dukedom. My actions don’t have consequences,” Henry said.
Ignoring Henry, Avery said, “I believe we have one of three outcomes from this behaviour.
“You can be charged with attempted murder and spend possibly the rest of your life in jail. A most unpleasant place I wouldn’t choose to spend in for one night. You would ruin my reputation, a reputation I spent decades to build. Tarnish a reputation that would tarnish further if I tried to free you. No one likes a Duke to get away with murder or in this case attempted murder.
“You can be committed to bedlam for the rest of your life and live amongst people who don’t know any better than what they do – some very dangerous people included.
“Or, you can be sent to the estate and stay there, never to leave for London or anywhere else. Of course, you would have two attendants with guns at all times, and you would be shot on sight if you ever attempted to leave.”
Henry’s eyes burned into his father’s. “You cannot treat me that way, Father. I am the heir to the dukedom and must spend time in London with other heirs forming friendships and alliances. It does not suit your position in the ton to keep me sequestered.”
Avery frowned and shook his head. “Let me worry about that, Henry. I need your choice, now.”
Henry’s mouth went agape. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Then I’ll go home for a while until you come to your senses.”
“Good choice. The carriage is waiting out front. You will ride with two attendants in the carriage and will have two attendants with you at all times. Your valet will prepare your things and send them along.”
Out of nowhere, two large men with pistols in their belts flanked Henry and escorted him down the townhouse stairs into the ducal carriage.
Avery turned and strolled into his office. He felt surprisingly light. He poured himself a whisky, sat near the fire, took a long gulp and thought. Avery had only one blood relative to take over as his heir.
He rose, pulled the bell then sat again. When Coleman came, Avery didn’t turn his head from the fire.
“Send a footman for Edward Balfour. I need to speak with him.”
Chapter 27
Henry understood it, but he didn’t understand it. It happened so suddenly. He was in one of his father’s carriages with two armed men in charge of making sure he got to Edgewood’s dower house. He understood that.
What Henry didn’t understand was why he was in one of his father’s carriages with two armed men in charge of making sure he got to the estate’s dower house.
“We are headed for my father’s estate?” he asked.
He looked across the carriage where both men sat watching him.
“Answer me. Are we going to Edgewood?”
Both men sat stone-faced. Wilson told them not to talk to Henry, and he told them Henry could get ugly and mean when he didn’t get his way.
They were also told Henry didn’t pay them, Wilson did.
Wilson made a point, a strong point of saying that he paid for their services. It wasn’t Henry. Wilson paid them handsomely.
“When my father hears you hijacked me and made me go to his estate against my will, you two will no longer have jobs.
“Is that what you want? Answer me. Do you want jobs or don’t you?
“You’re fired. Both of you. I’ll take my chances with highwaymen
or anyone else who might stop this carriage to rob it.”
Henry knocked on the roof of the interior of the carriage – the signal to stop, but the driver ignored him.
“Another one fired. I’ll tell him as soon as we stop. And my father will deal with all of you. You will be sorry.”
