She was halfway to the door when Jane’s voice stopped her. “Della.”
She turned around, expecting that her friend might try to reason with her. After all, that was what they did. Della came up with reckless ideas, and Jane brought her back down to earth. And this was a reckless idea if ever there was one. But Jane merely smiled. Her eyes were soft with unshed tears as she said, “Good luck.”
***
“Wood!Are you in there?” Lyman pounded on the door to the little snake’s room, but there was no answer. “You can’t hide forever.”
He was going to murder the bastard once he got his hands on him. What the hell was he playing at, mentioning Della’s name? Lyman hadn’t attended the proceedings before the House, but he read the summaries in the papers every day. Nothing could have prepared him for the words that had greeted him this morning.
“Wood!” he called again, trying the knob this time. It was unlocked. Lyman pushed it open to reveal an empty room. It wasn’t only its occupant that was missing, but all of his things. The bookcase stood empty; the wardrobe gaped open, the hangers inside bare and tinkling against each other in the gust of air he’d stirred up when he flung open the door.
What the hell?
The coward must have made his escape in the night, before Lyman could learn what he’d done. Where had he gone? There must be some clue.
He stalked inside and began rifling through the desk drawers, looking for anything that Wood had left behind.
“He isn’t here.” Lyman jumped at the sound of Clarkson’s baritone. He stood in the doorframe, observing the scene with an expression of mild concern. “He informed Mr. Hirsch yesterday that he was terminating his apprenticeship. Said he’d found a new benefactor and an opportunity more in keeping with his skill.” Clarkson placed a dry emphasis on this last word, his thoughts on the subject clear.
“Michael.” That madetwopeople who needed to answer for this. “Where did he say he was going?”
“He didn’t. He just paid up his last month’s rent and left.”
Lyman muttered an oath. It made perfect sense. Ellen and Michael had needed more evidence to get their bill through the House, and Wood had no doubt enjoyed the banknotes they’d lined his pockets with, plus whatever position they’d secured him with someone higher up the social ladder than Mr. Hirsch.
If he tore up every town house in Mayfair, he would find his brother-in-law soon enough, but Wood could be anywhere by now. Still, Michael must have some idea where his newest lackey had gone.
“I saw the story in the papers,” Clarkson continued. “I’m sorry.”
“I need to find him,” Lyman ground out, shoving the desk drawer closed with a rough motion. There was nothing useful here. He was wasting precious time.
“And do what?” Clarkson asked carefully. “Rip his skin from his bones?”
“It would be a start.”
The man had trampled Della’s good name in the mud, had dragged her into this for no better reason than to earn a few pounds and advance his own station, if Lyman’s suspicions were correct. He’druinedher. He had to answer for it.
Lyman stalked past Clarkson and down the hall to his own rooms, where he fetched his gloves and coat.
“Might we take a moment to talk this over before you rush off?” his friend called after his receding back.
“There’s nothing to talk about. He can’t get away with this.”
“Wood is a worthless little shit,” Clarkson conceded. “But what do you plan to do, murder him? Then you’ll be thrown in jail, which isn’t likely to improve anything.”
Lyman crammed his hat atop his head, pausing a moment to think this over.
A gentleman doesn’t resort to his fists,he could hear his father say.He solves his problems with civility.He’d tried to obey this advice all his life, but he’d never been tested like this before. His blood was pounding in his ears. The familiar sight of his lodgings receded in a red haze. The only thing he understood was that hehadto fix this before it was too late.
“I’ll make him recant his testimony,” Lyman said, seizing holdof the idea with a grim sense of triumph. That was it. There was no way to make the public unsee the story, but he could still discredit its source. Make it clear that James Wood was a bitter, petty little man willing to do anything to advance his station.
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m confident that I can find the means to persuade him.” Thus far, Lyman hadn’t pushed back. He’d let them say whatever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, all while telling himself that it was the only form of atonement he could offer. But this crossed a line.
If he threatened to fight the divorce, to thwart their efforts before Parliament, he might persuade Michael to withdraw whatever patronage he’d offered Wood in exchange for his testimony. Once the man found himself without protection, he wouldn’t be so brave. Exert a little pressure and he would bend like the coward he was.
“But the hearings are already over,” Clarkson pointed out. “It’s too late for him to recant.”
