“Oh, it was Matthew let them in, was it?”
“Unfortunately I was not at hand at the time, my lord.”
“Then for the Lord’s sake instruct Matthew to refuse them entrance if they should dare to show their faces again.”
“I have already done so, my lord.” The butler gave a little bow, as urbane as if his day had not been disturbed by the late commotion. “There will be a light collation set out in the small dining parlour within the half hour, my lord.”
“Excellent. I’m hungry as a hunter.”
It did not take Alex long to mount the stairs and make his way along the gallery to the family room. He entered to find his parents in earnest discussion and Georgy at the window, presumably watching the departure of the Greenaways.
She turned as he closed the door. “Alex! Thank goodness! I was afraid that horrid man would have arrested you.”
“My dear Georgiana, don’t be ridiculous,” said his mother before he had a chance to respond. “I am astonished the Bow Street magistrates paid any mind to such a nonsensical charge.”
“They must at least investigate, my dear, since an information had been laid.” Lord Luthrie was on his feet, moving to the side table where a tray with a decanter and glasses stood. “Madeira, my dear boy? I imagine you stand in crying need of a restorative.”
Alex laughed. “I do, sir.” He glanced at his mother. “Don’t mind telling you, ma’am, there was a moment when I thought the fellow was going to haul me off to Bow Street.”
Georgy uttered a shriek. “See? Did I not say so, Mama?”
“Nonsense! Your father would have had something to say about that.”
Lord Luthrie did not bother to enter into the discussion, only smiling as he held out a glass full of red liquid. Alex took it and fortified himself with a couple of sips.
“By good fortune, Vergette was mentioned. Seems he has something of a reputation with Bow Street, and this Benjamin fellow wasn’t keen to run afoul of the man.”
His father laughed. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Yes, but I am. Mean to say, if he don’t serve any but the highest ranks, can’t see how he’d have anything to do with Bow Street.”
“I doubt he does personally,” said his father. “But I set Outram to make a couple of discreet enquiries and from his report, Vergette advises his fellow lawyers. His reputation is fearsome.”
“Well, thank the Lord for it, sir, because even though I’ve got to produce Apple at Bow Street within three days, I was able to keep her whereabouts secret.”
“And where is she in fact?”
Alex sighed. “With Mrs Reddicliffe.”
Georgy clapped her hands. “Oh, famous! Did you take her there?”
“No, Vergette dropped her at Romsey. Caught up with him at Winchester, and what he had to tell me ain’t pretty.”
Lord Luthrie laid a hand on his shoulder. “No, I imagine not. We’ve been discussing the matter, my boy, and I’m afraid our conclusions are decidedly unwelcome.”
Alex’s heart dropped, but his sister chimed in, indignant.
“Yes, but I refuse to believe such a thing of poor Apple. Alex, they will have it that she is someone’s natural daughter and only adopted by Mr Greenaway. So horrid of you, Papa!”
Their father ignored this, his eyes fixed on Alex. “Is it so?”
The nagging ache within him started up again, and Alex was hard put to it to answer without giving himself away. He nodded, clearing his throat. “Vergette told me as much of the tale as he could.”
“Which is?”
Alex looked across at his mother, and found her remarkably calm, although her beak of a nose was pointed in his direction in the way that still on occasion had the power to intimidate him.
“It is of no use to conceal anything from us, Alexander.”
