It was wretchedly inconvenient to have a conscience sometimes.
‘And what was this about the Hellfire Club going up in smoke? Your name was mentioned.’ Knighton waggled his brows. Jacob’s attention was drawn to the scar on Ben’s lip that he had given him when they were at school. They had fought then over a schoolboy version of the club– Knighton had been in favour of naughty irreligious drinking parties where guests dressed up as lascivious monks and nuns; Jacob had found the tone cruel and crude so had been against. Boys being boys, this had led to a scrap behind the cricket pavilion. ‘I believe you’ve put paid to the club once and for all?’
‘I had very little to do with it,’ he murmured. Dora had been the one to set fire to the dangerous secrets held by the corrupt leaders of the club. The Hellfire Club, if it still existed after that shock, had gone very quiet. Jacob suspected it had just gone even further underground as you couldn’t stop people exploring their darker urges.
‘Hmm,’ said Knighton but he let the subject drop– he had so many more he wished to raise. ‘But have you really gone into business with an actress, private enquiries or some such? I have to say I was dubious when I heard the rumour.’
‘Her name is Miss Fitz-Pennington and yes, we are investigating private matters, discretion guaranteed.’
He could see Knighton filing away the information. He didn’t mind because it might drive new custom to their office. ‘Such as?’
‘Return of stolen items, infidelity, fraud.’ He could have added murder, treachery and spying, but Knighton didn’t need any more fuel to add to his speculations.
‘Very useful, if somewhat surprising. Then again, you surprised us all by going into medicine so perhaps I should always be prepared for the unexpected when I seek news of you.’
‘That would be wise.’
‘I must bear your agency in mind. Not that I suspect my dear wife of anything immoral– she’s rather Methodist in her tastes and will never give me cause to doubt her– but you can’t let the servants take advantage now, can you?’
‘Quite so.’ Jacob attacked his bacon, enjoying the salty taste in contrast to his coffee.
Knighton wasn’t finished. ‘I hear your brother is less than pleased by your choice of profession.’
‘He has made no secret of the fact, but I do not feel inclined to live my life to please the viscount. He has so many others to do that for him. My turn: what brings you to town at this time of year?’
Knighton grimaced. ‘I am in the cotton trade as you well know, so you can probably guess.’
‘Business?’
‘Exactly. We don’t take the summer off for parties and making a tour of the country like you blue bloods– presentcompany excepted. It’s very tedious really but I had to see our bankers to arrange credit for a new loom we are setting up.’ He cut up his sausage into tiny circles, swiping them through the egg yolk before eating. He chewed meditatively. ‘This steam power business is expensive. The mechanics are always claiming we need the new and improved version so here I am, trying to persuade the city that I know what I’m talking about.’
‘You should’ve brought one of your mechanics with you.’
Knighton looked at Jacob with shocked surprise. ‘You know, that’s a dashed good idea. Why didn’t I think of that? If they discombobulate me with the engineering talk, then why can’t they do the same to my manager, Brighouse, at the bank?’
The waiter topped up the coffee pot. ‘Will there be anything else, sirs?’
‘Not at the moment. Thank you,’ Jacob waited for the waiter to retreat. ‘Knighton, there’s something I want to?—’
‘Uh-oh, it seems this isn’t just a chance meeting.’ Knighton helped himself to a slice of toast which he slathered with butter and marmalade. ‘I require fortification against whatever it is you want to ask.’ He took a bite. ‘Go on.’
Jacob smiled, remembering he’d always liked Knighton, even when he was an idiot at school for admiring secret societies and hellfire antics. Jacob wouldn’t have bothered to fight him if he had cared less. ‘The Comte and Comtesse D’Antraigues.’
Knighton swallowed with difficultly. ‘Lord, Sandys, you do know how to put a man off his breakfast. Messy business. Stabbings, weren’t they? Gushing blood all over the pavement like an awful Jacobean revenge tragedy. I heard that a crazed servant went after them with a knife. Must say I looked askance at my man for a few days after that– asked him if he ever felt driven to slit my throat while he’s shaving me.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He said “Frequently, sir, but never to the point of taking action.”’ Knighton mimicked the low voice of his valet.
‘How extraordinary– a truthful servant.’
‘He’s been with me since I was a boy. I made sure I gave him an extra day off and a rise in his wages after that.’
Jacob sensed Knighton and his valet enjoyed this kind of banter frequently. ‘It is a shame thecomtedid not have such a faithful retainer.’
‘Indeed.’
‘What have you heard about the murder?’
