Henderson did not react when Langdon took the seat across from him, but merely raised his glass of ale.
“I thought I would find you here.” Langdon turned to watch the tall, striking brunette exchange snappy barbs with several rowdy sailors. Not only did she make excellent ale, she was also an invaluable informant. Nothing happened in Cheapside that got past Polly.
His only response from Henderson was a grunt; a typical conversation with a man of few words.
“I see you haven’t given up?” Laughing, he shook his head, unruffled by the dismissal. Being a member of the Tenet required him to visit some of the seedier pockets of society where desperation and violence were part of the inhabitants’ everyday lives.
“I don’t give up, you know that,” came the matter-of-fact reply, a glint in his eyes. “Eventually she will fall for my charms, just like all the others.”
Langdon’s amusement increased. “You sound as if you’re going to battle.”
Henderson shifted in his seat, fingering the edge of his scar that started on his square jaw and ran across his craggy face. The thin line of white disappeared into his blue-black hair. A tough exterior for a tough man. “I am. I will be the victor soon enough.” He nodded toward Polly. “That, my friend, is the fortress I plan on penetrating.”
As if knowing they were discussing her, she looked in their direction and smiled at Langdon. She raised one arched brow in question and he nodded at her silent query. She made to turn to the taps behind her, and her gaze settled on Henderson. Her good humor vanished, and she scowled, placing her back to them.
“Yes, I see her weakening,” Langdon said, pointing out the obvious. Polly’s displeasure reminded him of another woman he’d met that morning. Trying to scrub her from his mind had been near impossible. “I did not seek you out to talk about Polly. I had a very interesting conversation with Stanton this morning.”
“Let me guess, he talked you out of resigning your, um, extensive travels.” He fingered a gouge in the wooden bar with one blunt-tipped finger. Like his face, his hands were crisscrossed with scars, speaking of his hard life.
“I never got that far. I walked into a strange situation. Farnsworth’s cousin, Mrs. Adare, brought some serious charges about a smuggling ring to his attention.” Stanton’s response still puzzled him, hence his reason for seeking out Henderson. A second set of eyes on the subject would be welcome.
“It is not an unusual occurrence on the coast. With the war going on, taxes on goods are high.” He stretched his neck and released a heavy sigh.
A young, fresh-faced maid delivered two pints of ale and removed Henderson’s empty one. Langdon flipped her a coin and waited until she was on her way before continuing his train of thought. “I suppose it is. However, she claims they are violent,” he said.
“Again, not unusual. Risky business, smuggling, and people do a lot to stop lips from flapping in the wind. That’s what local authorities are for.” He pressed his lips together, frowned and lifted the ale to his mouth. He studied Langdon for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Let me guess. Mrs. Adare is a very comely woman. Married or widowed?”
“Widowed, and yes, she is pleasant to look at, but that is neither here nor there.” Langdon fought the flush moving up his neck. The truth was, she was very handsome, and it had been some time since he enjoyed a woman’s company. She was a disentangled widow. Would she be up for an affair? He shut down the thought. Business and pleasure never mixed well. Had he remembered that during his first trip to Spain, he would have never ended up as a prisoner in a dank dungeon. “She brought a legitimate accusation against someone in the peerage; a man the prime minister holds in high regard.”
Brow furrowed, Henderson angled his head. “That never stopped Stanton before.”
“Exactly my point.” By the seriousness reflected in his voice, he was thinking the same thing Langdon had. “The PM doesn’t want Randell investigated, which is typical. He claims the accusations unsubstantiated. The PM’s opinion is not the one that concerns me.”
“You realize what you’re suggesting?” Henderson asked in a lowered tone, the graveness of his voice reflecting Langdon’s own unease.
“I do, and I am not pleased about it.” Langdon nodded and took a sip of ale. It was cool and smooth with just a hint of bitterness.
“Perhaps the PM is right, and the man is not guilty of anything illegal. Stanton would have to concede.” He shrugged wide shoulders, his thumb tapping against the wooden tabletop. The tiny gesture was a sure sign he was uncomfortable with his own explanation. While Henderson was not a member of the Tenet, he and Langdon had worked together since his first assignment as a guardian. He had come highly recommended by Polly as a guide into the interworking of the gangs controlling the docks. Langdon had saved his life, and they’d been friends since that time.
“Therein lies the crux. Mrs. Adare is convinced he is, which is an unpleasant situation. She is very headstrong. If I do as Stanton wants and leave her to her own devices, there is no telling what kind of trouble she will get into.” Single-minded was too weak of a word to describe her. From what she claimed, she had already put herself into grave danger on numerous occasions. Nor was she his single concern. “Stanton not only dismissed her claim, he was brutish about it. I have seen him annoyed at me more times than I care to admit, but the open hostility makes me believe he has something at stake for making this disappear.”
“I would like to say you’re reading too much into this, but I am not naïve.” Henderson leaned back in his seat and scratched at his chin, mouth thinning. “Money is a powerful motivator. While Stanton holds an elevated position, he is not a wealthy man.”
“No, he is not.” Stanton was Langdon’s superior in the army, and he had looked up to him most of his adult life, yet his reaction nagged at Langdon. “I think a brief investigation is in order, just for Mrs. Adare’s peace of mind.”
“Need I remind you, you were adamant about leaving the service behind not two days past.” Henderson lifted his pint once more, his gaze sobering. Another disconcerting thing about the man; he read Langdon well and knew how his mind worked. “Perhaps you should hand this one off to Farnsworth. She is his cousin, and if I recall, he will inherit the estate.”
“If it were you, would you leave it be?” Langdon asked, drinking deeply from his pint. The hoppy beer had a bit of a kick on the back of his throat, and he released a deep cough. He was being foolish in one regard. His time was limited as it was, and there was so much that needed to be done with his estate,. It was overwhelming. His family was also in shambles. Phillipe, his brother, had lost his wife and buried his sorrow in his cups. Sophia, Philippe’s twin, had placed herself on the shelf for no good reason. His sister Aimee had come out this season, and he had two more younger siblings who would be leaving the schoolroom behind soon. They all leaned heavily on his mother, who was still grieving over her husband’s death. . The ever-present guilt of responsibility in his personal life warred with his need to see things to the proper conclusion on a professional level. While common sense told him to do what Henderson suggested, he couldn’t allow the matter to drop.
Henderson shrugged, the material of his jacket pulled across his large frame. He might not be titled, but the cut of his coat spoke of wealth. Over the years, Langdon had paid him a hefty sum for his invaluable services. He waited for the big man’s response with an inquisitive stare, knowing the answer before he even offered it.
“I don’t have a family or an estate to oversee. You do. You can’t solve the world’s problems, or the problems of one lady in particular. Although it wouldn’t be the first time you tried.”
“Hopefully, this time I won’t fail.” Langdon stood, annoyed by Henderson’s reminder of his foolishness over Maria. He had been reckless and determined to rid the world of Napoleon’s reign when he had met her. Her husband was friends with Napoleon and Langdon had initially flirted with her in hopes of gaining an introduction to her husband. Little had he known she was playing her own game as she used her association with him to prick her husband’s jealousy.. She was a consummate actress worthy of treading the boards and more than anything, he wished to tuck her memory back into the past where it belonged. “Mrs. Adare’s claims are worrisome but not the catalyst for investigating this. Nobody is above the law; not the PM and not Stanton,” Langdon said.
“If you’re certain this is what you wish to do, you can count on my help,” Henderson said. The man was blunt and didn’t mince words. They created an unlikely friendship, but fighting on the side of right bonded them.
“Thank you. Chances are, we’re reading too much into it.” He straightened his hat. Polly held up a hand and waved at him. He returned the gesture, hiding a smile at Henderson’s grunt of disapproval. He clapped the taller man on the shoulder, glad he had been able to share his suspicions with someone he trusted. “Good luck with her. You will need it.”
