‘Naturally we must also seek to restore his title,’ added Grace, her anger at what had happened to the Viscount palpable.
‘Once your cousin at least knows you live, he will endeavour to put an end to you permanently,’ commented Roan. ‘He has to or else he stands to lose everything. He will no doubt be aware that his attempt on your life in Cadiz would be difficult to prove but at the very least he will not wish to have his name blacklisted through rumours or indeed lose his claim on Northwood.’
‘I still believe it important we get to the bottom of why,’ interrupted Temperance. ‘If money was the prime motivator and we can prove it, then it adds weight to our cause.’
Adam nodded slowly before speaking directly to Nicholas. ‘I believe I’m the best person to do some digging.’ He held up his hand to forestall the Duke’s protest. ‘They will be watching you Nick and we cannot say the same about me. There will be no undue interest in my movements should I decide to spend some time up in the Village on business.’
‘You do not have the same military connections,’ argued Nicholas, clearly reluctant to let anyone else put themselves in danger.’
‘But I do,’ offered Roan. 'My connections may not be as illustrious as yours Nick, but I’m persuaded you can quietly furnish me with notes of introduction to those people you trust? It’s logical after all that I would seek to invest my prize money. It may even get me straight to the horse’s mouth.’
Although Faith did not argue, her expression spoke of her unhappiness at the idea of her husband putting himself at risk.
However, before anyone else could speak, Gabriel burst out, ‘Fiend seize it, I cannot allow any of you to risk yourselves for me, you have done more than any sane person could ever have asked. I’m a deuced stranger to most of you.’ His frustration and anguish were palpable.
‘We could not in all conscience abandon you this late in the game Gabriel, especially as we are now on first name terms,’ responded Adam drily.
‘Nothing this family loves better than a mystery to solve,’ exclaimed the Reverend.
‘Mayhap you are referring to yourself on this occasion father,’ countered Faith, eyebrows raised.
Reverend Shackleford coughed uncomfortably before waiving his hand airily and saying, ‘Oh I am undoubtedly far too old to go cavorting round the countryside in search of suspected murderers.’
‘Well, it didn’t stop you last time,’ responded Faith tartly.
Reverend Shackleford sat back against his chair and regarded his daughter guiltily. After a lengthy pause, he said, ‘You may rest assured Faith dear, that I have indeed learned the valuable lesson the Almighty sought to teach me in Torquay.’
‘Well at least you’re not the instigator of this one father, and that makes a welcome change,’ commented Grace, ignoring her parent’s indignant glower.
‘What about Gabriel’s safety in the meantime?’ asked Hope, speaking for the first time. ‘Clearly his relatives will seek to put an end to him before the world knows he has returned.’
‘That’s what we’re banking on,’ responded Nicholas. ‘Somehow we must draw them out into doing something reckless. Once that happens, we’ll have them.’
‘But what if we don’t give them the opportunity to act?’ responded Hope, ‘but simply proclaim to the world that the former viscount has returned? Once it’s out in the open, will that not be sufficient to forestall any further murderous impulses they may have?’
‘That brings us back to money,’ shrugged Roan. ‘If Admiral and/or Henry Atwood are cleaned out, they could well be desperate enough. That’s aside from their fear that the truth could well come out and naturally they would assume Gabriel will not leave unfinished business. Again, consider the scandal.’ He shook his head. ‘In my opinion, it’s a risk we dare not take, unless we can first uncover enough damning evidence of their duplicity.’
‘But I will willingly take that chance rather than put any of you in further jeopardy,’ protested Gabriel hotly.
‘If you hadn’t thought they’d be putting you to bed with a deuced shovel as soon as you showed your face,’ growled the Reverend, ‘you wouldn’t have sought out Nicholas in the first place.’
‘The Devil take it,’ interrupted a small, exasperated voice, ‘it seems transparently obvious that this Henry fellow is entirely dicked in the nob. So, I say enough prittle prattle. How are we going to throw a rub in the way of the bastard’s plans?’
There was a deafening silence as everyone in the room looked over at Patience who was glaring back rebelliously.
‘In all honesty,’ commented Felicity Beaumont a few seconds later, ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’
∞∞∞
Henry Atwood was in his cups. Not that that in itself was particularly unusual, but usually he wasn’t quite so jug bitten before eleven o’clock in the morning. But then he supposed, it was Christmas.
He was sprawled on the chaise longue perfectly situated to observe the beautiful view from the drawing room at Northwood Court. It had been snowing and the scene resembled that of a fairy tale.
Henry saw nothing of it. He was eying the nearly empty bottle of port and debating whether to ring for his new butler now or when he’d finally downed the dregs. For down them he would and most assuredly another bottle on top of the two he’d already consumed. There was something strangely satisfying in depleting the decent stuff in his old man’s wine cellar.
The problem was, no matter how much he denied it to himself, he still thought of it as Gabriel’s. And he knew his father did. That was why the old skinflint couldn’t bear to step foot in Northwood Court.
Damn Gabriel Atwood.
