Louisa vanished like quicksilver. Cordelia turned to Adeline. “You’ll sit with me and tell me every dull detail of the journey so I can criticize it. Men who need to growl at one another may do it in the library.”
Winston caught Adeline’s hand as she passed. The touch signified agreement, apology, promise. Once he released his hold on her, he followed Oswald down the corridor, shutting the library door against the hum of the house. Oswald didn’t wait for the ceremony. He went to the map table, braced his palms on it, and lifted his head like a man bringing bad news into a good room.
“I started in the county,” he said. “Clerks, magistrates, churchwardens. Then I rode to London. Grub Street, St. James’s, the clubs. I had a word with Fraser atDebrett’s.”
Winston drew his coat off and set it over the back of a chair. “Start where it hurts least.”
“It all hurts,” Oswald said, without dramatics. “Lord Harston is in disgrace. Not just rumor. Writs are out. He’s defaulted on notes to two bankers in the City and a moneylender in Holborn. No one will extend him another pound. His steward hasn’t been paid in three months.”
Winston felt the room tilt a fraction and right itself. “Debtors’ gaol?”
“A hair’s breadth away,” Oswald said. “He’s selling anything not nailed to the floors. He’s also been…creative.”
“How?”
Oswald’s mouth tightened. “There’s a pattern. Quiet approaches to gentlemen of means. Widowers, men with estates to settle, men who keep their reputations neat. Letters from intermediaries with references to Harston’s pure and private daughter. She’s not on the market. They say she’s in retreat in the country. They say she must be shielded from gossip. Only a man of character will do. There’s always a reason meetings with the lady herself can’t be arranged. Money is always required to secure the arrangement. Settlements, dowry adjustments, a private debt to be cleared so the new life can begin unblemished.”
Winston kept his voice flat. “Names.”
“A viscount in Sussex, Ashby. I saw him. He showed me the letter. There were others who wouldn’t own it, but the handwriting matched on three notes I managed to lay my hands on. A clerk in Harston’s attorney’s office helped with the drafts.”
Winston crossed to the sideboard and poured water to cool his throat. It tasted of iron. “And the daughter?”
“Never seen. Always promised. Always just beyond reach. When the gentlemen press, the offers sour. Harston grows offended. The money’s not returned. Nothing is provable without a trial none of them want.”
Winston took that in without speaking. The log in the grate shifted. The fire guttered and steadied.
Oswald went on. “You asked how Bow Street came into it. Harston hasn’t bought them. They’re not so cheap, but he’s used their appetite. He lays a charge, theft, fraud, against a woman he says wronged him. He pays a fee. A runner sniffs. He baits the hook with a title and gossip. It gives him the look of righteous pursuit when he comes calling for money.”
Winston turned the glass in his hand. “And you think I’m his next mark.”
“I think you’re the one he finally got close to,” Oswald said. “The difference this time is that the woman he has accused of thievery is his own, elusive daughter, Lady Adeline Warren. It makes the tale prettier and more dangerous. People might just believe it. Certainly, the gentlemen who thought they were goingto be presented to Lady Adeline as possible suitors will think this claim has merit. After all, she could have stayed hidden from their view and taken their money. She could have…”
A growl of annoyance rumbled deep in Winston’s chest.
Oswald snorted. “I don’t say she’s in it. I don’t know. But the shape is the same.” He lowered his voice as if he were sure someone might be listening just outside the door. “How do you know that Lady Adeline has told you the whole truth now?”
“She has.” Winston lifted his chin stoically. “She was never engaged to be married or jilted. She ran from her father. She sought refuge with my mother. She…”
“But what of the suitors left behind in London?” Oswald tapped the stack of documents on the desk. “Could Lady Adeline have hidden at Briarwood with the Dowager because she was part of her father’s scheme all along? Could she have…”
“Adeline would never have it in her to engage in such deception,” Winston argued.
“Really?” Oswald arched an eyebrow cynically. “She lived with your mother for years under false pretenses. She caught my attention and earned my regard. She even took up a position in your household. Of what is Lady Adeline not capable of doing?”
Winston frowned. “I feel as though your question is rhetorical. You know something more, Duskwood.” He eyed his friend warily. “Do not keep the truth from me now.”
Oswald went to a drawer and took out the copy ofDebrett’sthat Winston kept at Greystone. He opened the page to a section blotted with ink.
“Care to guess which family has just been erased from the peerage?” Oswald said.
Winston stared. “How did you know…?”
“Upon arriving here, I plucked this volume from the shelves first thing. I needed to see how Lady Adeline had managed to fool both you and your mother for so long.” He paused, and his lips turned downward as something akin to a frown stole over his features. “If you have any thought of…” Oswald’s eyes narrowed. “Winston?”
Winston looked up. “Of what?”
“Marrying her.”
