Trevor sighed. “At this point, that is the last I wish to do.” Hugh looked at him curiously, but Trevor didn’t notice. “Our appearance at the Mannion home this afternoon should help divert attention, or at least prevent anyone from making final plans for Vanessa’s future.”
“Perhaps,” Trevor slowly conceded, “if she is up for visitors.”
Hugh frowned briefly and shook his head. “I can’t imagine her being so vain as to turn away callers. In fact, I would be more inclined to believe she would have me see her injury since, despite her words to the contrary, I believe she holds me partially responsible for the accident.”
Trevor laughed. “You may be made to squirm, my friend."
"Indeed, I am aware of that possibility,” Hugh conceded dryly.
“It may reassure you to know I have set about some investigations into Wilmot’s background, but he is a hard man to surreptitiously investigate for he has many friends, particularly in the more seamy side of town. He is not a man I would openly antagonize.”
“Why, do you fear he is the type to take physical means to assure his ends?” Hugh asked sharply.
“I don’t know,” Trevor answered slowly, “but I hope not. His compatriots are men of violence and generally not the sort to be drawn to loyalty by those not of their ilk."
"This is a bad business, Trevor,” Hugh muttered darkly as they neared the Mannion home.
“I only hope we are wrong,” his friend said with a sigh, tacitly acknowledging the truth of Hugh’s statement. “It is ironic that what began as a gentle courtship should have the appearance of taking a particularly nasty turn.”
“I begin to have the hope we are foolish dreamers, seeing demons at every corner.”
“Aye, you have the right of it there,” Trevor admitted, slowly lifting and dropping the knocker on the heavy carved wood door before the Mannion home. Hugh didn’t comment further but bent to brush the dust off his usually gleaming Hessians, his lips pursed in thought.
It was but a few moments before Jonas admitted them and led them into the spacious foyer. “One moment, gentlemen, while I inform the ladies of your presence,” the old butler said.
“A moment, man, if you please. Tell us first, how does Miss Vanessa Mannion feel?” Hugh asked.
“Poorly, in truth, but it’s not for me to be talking. I shall return directly. Please wait here.”
Hugh scowled and would have said more had not the door to the library swung open, and Richard Mannion appeared.
“Ah, I thought I heard your voice, Mr. Talverton. A moment of your time, if you please.”
Trevor and Hugh exchanged questioning glances, neither guessing Mr. Mannion's intent. Hugh shrugged slightly in Trevor’s direction and walked toward the library.
Richard Mannion held the door wide and closed it tightly after his guest entered.
“Please, have a seat, sir,” he said, gesturing to a comfortable corner of the room with two chairs placed providently for conversation. “Would you care for a smoke?” he asked, extending a box of cigars in Hugh’s direction.
Hugh nodded and accepted one.
After lighting Hugh Talverton’s and his own, Richard Mannion sat down.
“I wish to thank you for assisting my daughter, Vanessa. I understand from Adeline that you were very propitious in your actions yesterday when Vanessa’s injury occurred.”
“I must confess, Mr. Mannion—”
“Richard, please.”
“Thank you. I must confess, Richard, I do account myself responsible for the accident. My presence startled Adeline and caused her to lose her balance.”
“Be that as it may, you responded with alacrity, as I understand you did at the theater the other evening.”
Hugh paused, an arrested expression narrowing his eyes as he stared at Richard Mannion. He puffed on his cigar again, a ring of blue smoke rising, blurring his features from Mr. Mannion’s eyes. He tapped ash loose. “You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I am at a loss for what to say."
"The truth, man,” Mannion said, sighing heavily, the lines in his face looking deeper. “I fear of necessity there is much hidden by all of us. In this matter I would wish a modicum of honesty to prevail.”
“Why?”
