I held up a hand. “I have experience of that particular asset, andthe less said, the better. The point is, you explicitly said that your purpose in staying here was to rest and to find a way to get onto your feet in a legitimate way.”
“And that is still my intention,” he said firmly. “But I did not know specifically about the jewels until the sweet old dear opened the box last night and dropped them into my lap.”
“I do not believe you,” I told him.
He shrugged. “There is nothing I can do about that. I am, in spite of your convictions to the contrary, telling the truth. I knew there were a few choice items in the Hathaway collections, but I thought perhaps a nice dagger set with gemstones or a few antique rugs, maybe a statue I could flog. I had no idea whatsoever that her ladyship was nesting comfortably upon such a clutch of golden eggs. And they arehergolden eggs,” he added firmly. “She owns them free and clear. What she does with them is entirely her business.”
“Meaning that if she wishes to give them to you, she may do so.”
“Meaning exactly that. I did not expect such a stroke of luck, but believe me, I will not take kindly to any attempts to block it,” he said, the pleasant smile still touching his lips.
“Do you mean to threaten me?” I was incredulous. “Harry, you forget that all I need do is drop a word into Lady Hathaway’s ear—or Charles’—and your time here is finished.”
“Which you will not do,” he said, moving a step closer. “I had a lovely chat with your inamorato last night,” he told me as the smile fell away. “We were rather far into our cups and got to know one another. It is astonishing what a few stray remarks can reveal.”
My breath sat heavily in my chest. Stoker and I had so many skeletons lurking in our cupboards, they rattled like Spanish castanets. I could only hope that one secret in particular was still my own.
“What do you mean?” I asked. I raised my chin in a gesture of bravado, but I did not think he found it convincing.
“Charles Hathaway’s library is an interesting place. He never uses it, you know. He prefers the estate office for conducting his business. That means no one is ever in the library, and it sits there, a dusty repository of all kinds of interesting information—the sort one finds in old newspapers and books likeDebrett’s.”
I forced myself to breathe calmly as he went on. “It took only a few hours of poking about this morning to discover that your Mr.Templeton-Vane has been married. A very nasty divorce, that,” he said in a tone of speculation. “I imagine it has left him rather shy of the notoriety that comes with the attention of the press.”
“Guttersnipes,” I said stoutly.
“Yes, but useful nonetheless,” he replied. “I imagine there are a few who might be interested in knowing that the infamous younger brother of the Viscount Templeton-Vane is living in mortal sin with a woman who is not his wife—who is, in fact, married to another man.”
“But we are not—” I bit off the words before I could finish the thought.
His brows shot up. “You are not living in mortal sin? Only by the thinnest of technical margins, my dear. You have not committed bigamy, and for that I congratulate you. But I would like to point out that what you are doing is presumably worse, at least for Templeton-Vane. He is consorting with a woman to whom he is not married—a woman with a husband. It paints the fellow in a very bad light indeed, I should think. I can only imagine what the newspapers would make ofthat.”
I thought of J. J., my opportunistic friend who had, at least thus far, resisted spilling my secrets to the world. But how much greater a story it would be if it were revealed that the semi-legitimate daughter of the Prince of Wales not only existed but had a husband and was comfortably sharing her favors with another man. Perhaps even personal loyalty would not be enough to still J. J.’s pen. And I would not be the onlyone destroyed by the lurid headlines. Stoker had experienced the viciousness of the popular press, and it had nearly killed him. I would not permit the hounds to tear at him again.
My hands curled into fists. “You would not dare, you—” The exact word I used has no bearing on this narrative, but it was enough to cause Harry to adopt once more a wounded expression.
“That was entirely uncalled for,” he protested.
“You are blackmailing me,” I countered. “I think it entirely justified.”
“I am not blackmailing you—I would never do such a thing.” He seemed genuinely affronted. “Blackmail would require that I demand money or services in exchange for keeping your secret. In point of fact, I am asking you to keepmine.”
I opened my mouth and snapped it closed again. In that completely unnerving way he had, Harry had neatly turned the tables upon me.
“I had forgot,” I said slowly.
“Forgot what?”
“That talking to you is like staring into a carnival looking glass. Up is down, down is up. Nothing makes sense.”
“Of course it does.” His voice was gentle and his smile back in evidence. “Veronica, do you think Ienjoyplaying the villain? I loathe it. I want only to be left alone, but like any creature, I will fight if I am cornered. I know you do not trust me, but I wish, how I wish that you would! I have endured so much these past years. I long for peace. And you know, as well as anyone, peace can only be purchased at a price. I am destitute. Would you see me beg in the streets?”
“Of course not,” I murmured.
“Then let me have this chance,” he pressed. “I vow to you, on anything you hold sacred, that I will not take so much as a crust of bread that has not been given freely to me.”
“And Lady Hathaway’s jewels?” I asked, curling a lip.
“That is a question for another day,” he said smoothly. “She may change her mind. Charles and Mary may persuade her to keep them with the estate for the benefit of their children. Effie might coax her into giving them up as a dowry. Or the old dear might pawn them to take a holiday on the Riviera with Mrs.Desmond,” he added, his smile deepening to reveal the dimple at the side of his mouth. “For now, all I ask is that you do not interfere with me.”
