“And the name of this woman?” The lead ball in his gut told Julius he suspected the culprit, but he wanted confirmation.
“Mrs. Westmont. A very sweet woman.” He blushed. “Well, until she wasn’t.”
Julius rubbed his eyebrow. “So, after you discovered an intimate was among the blackmailers, you gave in to their demands?”
“I refused once.” Tugging at his threadbare waistcoat, Dawnley sat up straight. “I told them no more secrets. Mrs. Westmont paid me a visit after that. She took me somewhere, to some sort of private club. I was introduced to a man who handed me a report on every step of my children’s days. From when my son left his home, to when he arrived at work, to what he ate that day for lunch. I was told how many pounds of mutton my daughter had purchased. He knew everything. And he pointed out how easy it would be to make one of them disappear. Or one of my daughter’s babies.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That is when I gave up any ideas of fighting.”
Julius edged forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “This man, what did he look like?”
“Tall and much too skinny. Looked a bit like a scarecrow to tell the truth. With a thin mustache. And before I left that night, I saw him speak to another woman, one with bright red hair. She was wearing a most indecent dress, but then”—he spread his hands—“the club was most indecent itself.”
Julius’s stomach slowly sank to the floor. “Where was this club?”
“Nowhere you’d want to go. Off Edward Street, I believe.”
Of course. It would be the one club Julius had made a second home. He stared at the square of sunlight, breathing heavily through his nose. Dawnley was right. The Black Rose was most indecent. Wonderfully indecent, along with the red-headed Madame Sable who ran the establishment. And now she was implicated in a blackmailing ring.
“And Mrs. Westmont? While you were having this conversation where the man threatened your family, where was she during all of this?”
“I think …” Dawnley ran a hand through his hair and looked to the corner of the room. “I believe she was in another room. With another man.”
Julius stared at the cell’s window. It made sense that the madam of a clandestine club would be involved in blackmail. Everything that happened within her walls was of a most private nature. The members trusted that their darkest desires would remain secret. And they paid through the nose to ensure it. The betrayal lanced Julius, and he gritted his teeth.
Julius’s need to tie women up wouldn’t be enough to ruin his reputation. As desires went, that was tame for The Black Rose. Other members of the ton might snigger behind his back, but no lasting damage would be done. Even if he were shunned, he hardly cared. Julius could live quite happily without the company of society.
But that couldn’t be said for all the members. Reputations could be destroyed; lives devastated. Some of his friends might not escape unscathed. He needed to tell them what he’d learned so they could try to control the damage.
But first, he would have a word with the lovely Madame Sable.
Julius thanked Dawnley and fled the prison. He didn’t know what the clerk had done to fall prey to blackmail and Julius didn’t want to know. He seemed a decent enough man. One who had tried to do the right thing. The tentacles of the shadowy organization were slithering into too many lives. Good lives.
Liverpool was right. They needed to be stopped. By any means necessary.
***
Amanda rubbed Reggie’s tummy, the repetitive motion soothing her as much as the dog. He flopped his head in her lap and sighed.
“Still not feeling back to your usual self?” She gently tugged at the sheet of paper stuck between her thigh and Reggie’s paw. She carefully folded the missive and tucked the square up her sleeve. “I don’t feel so well, either.”
“Are you ill, dear?” Lady Mary toddled into the room, Carter trailing in her wake, a large basket in his hands. “Did you catch what Reginald has?”
Amanda wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know if that’s possible.” Carter brushed past her and set the basket down by an armchair. Amanda tucked her legs back, digging her fingers into Reggie’s thick coat. The butler didn’t look at her, didn’t say anything untoward, hardly acknowledged her presence at all.
“Do you need anything else, m’lady?” he asked.
“Not at present,” her chaperone said.
Without a glance to Amanda, Carter bowed to Lady Mary, and exited the morning room.
The older woman settled into her chair and pulled a square of needlepoint from the basket. “What ails you? The doctor said your dog will be all right.”
“Reggie is my sister’s dog.” As Amanda had reminded the woman many times before. “And he is feeling much better. Only a little tired.”
Lady Mary stabbed a needle through her cloth. “Well, if your pup is doing better, then why are you blue?”
“Nothing of great importance.” Fingering the paper tucked in her sleeve, Amanda forced a smile. “I received an answer to a letter I wrote. It wasn’t to my liking.”
“I often receive letters not to my liking.” Lady Mary winced and sucked at the tip of her thumb. “The trick is to ignore what you don’t wish to hear until you get the answer you want.”
