I stared at the man in perplexity and growing anger. “You won’t forget it?” I repeated. “Why should this inspire me to do as you ask?”
Brewster answered me before Mr. Arthur could. “Because he wants to take over. Now that Creasey is dust, once His Nibs is gone, there’s none to stop Arthur.”
I understood. Mr. Creasey had been one of Denis’s greatest rivals, until Denis had rid the world of him very effectively. Mr. Arthur must have stepped into the void left by Creasey’s removal and now wanted to continue with whatever plans he had, undeterred.
“I am pleased you believe my power to discover the true killer so formidable, Mr. Arthur,” I said coolly.
Arthur never lost his friendly tone. “You have quite a reputation, Captain. Jimmy uses you often, and he is an excellent judge of character.”
“But are you?” I asked.
Arthur chuckled. “I am, indeed. Which is why I warn you. If you succeed in freeing our Jimmy, I might become angry with you.”
“I am not interested in your threats.” I took a step forward, despite Brewster trying to prevent me. “And if you think in any way to harm my family or friends to ensure my compliance, I will make certain you regret it for the rest of your life.”
Arthur’s eyes widened, but the grin never left his face. “Who is making the threats now? But never you worry, Captain. My grievance is with you alone. Your wife and daughter and your gentry-cove friends have never done me a bad turn—why should I take my pique out on them? I believe in dealing directly with the person who has angered me, no one else.”
This speech did not reassure me. “Your insistence makes me wonder if you didn’t kill Mr. Pickett yourself, in order to incriminate Denis. Or had one of your toughs do it for you.”
Another chuckle, a warm sound in the cold night. “I might have if I’d thought of it. But luck shone my way instead.” Arthur touched his hat. “Well, I’ve said my piece. Your choice, as you say, whether you heed me. Good night, Captain.”
I did not reply. In a chance beam from an open door behind me I saw that Mr. Arthur’s face held the hardness of one who’d ground through a difficult life, with eyes as gray as a cloudy dawn. Behind the steady voice and agreeable manner lay a man as cold as Denis ever was. Arthur might promise he’d keep my family out of this game, but if he ever changed his mind, they’d be in dire peril.
The door shut, and the brief insight into Arthur’s true nature vanished.
He nodded to me before swinging himself into the carriage once more. It rumbled away, his ruffians swarming back to the top as it went.
“Bloody hell.” I released the words with fervor. “If he is what will follow Denis, then I will run to Newgate and drag Denis out of there at once. Or else lock myself and those I love in with him.”
“He’s not a good man, no,” Brewster rumbled, his ire still high. “Many like him, though. Find him amiable.”
“He has cultivated his guise well,” I agreed. “If I’d met him in another circumstance and had no idea what sort of man he was, I might think him amiable myself. Jimmy, he called him. I’m certain Denis is pleased with that.”
Brewster unbent enough to laugh. “Arthur gives him that moniker because they was on the streets together as lads. Though Arthur is a little bit older than His Nibs.”
Older, but Denis had managed to outwit Arthur in the game of power. Was the diminutive name Arthur’s attempt to keep Denis in his place?
“Damnation,” I said feelingly. “Now I must look over my shoulder for him. Exactly what Arthur is counting on, blast the man.”
“You could do what he says and stay out of it,” Brewster said without much optimism. “Send your wife and Miss Gabriella away to Oxfordshire.”
I did want Gabriella and Donata far away from London, though I knew what answer Donata would give me.
“And let that man take over?” I demanded with a touch of incredulity. “I think not.”
With this pronouncement, I marched back into the opera house, having not the least idea how I would go about relieving Denis of his predicament.
My visit from Mr. Arthur put me out of temper. I could not sit still and watch the opera, so I paced outside of the Breckenridge box until the interval. At that point, the box emptied, Donata seeking me to escort her downstairs. We’d be going from here to the subscription ball in Duke Street.
Though I hardly was in the mood for more festivities, I did not want to rush churlishly off home and leave my wife and daughter to the dangers of men like Mr. Arthur. My mood was not assuaged by the fact that Donata’s friends piled into our carriage, though I was not unhappy to ride to the event with Lady Aline and Gabriella.
Listening to my daughter chatter about the lovely singing in the opera soothed me somewhat, and by the time we arrived in Duke Street, my temper, as well as my determination to not let Mr. Arthur intimidate me, was restored.
The assembly rooms were full, the affair lively. I tried to divert myself by speaking with those I’d come to know through Grenville and Donata, but even the topics of horseflesh or army campaigns did not engage me as usual.
Grenville arrived, though without Marianne. Our hostess, a tall duchess with much rouge on her lined face, displayed disappointment that he’d not brought his scandalous wife.
After he’d greeted all those who hurried to toady to him, Grenville presented to me a gentleman about his own age, with a mop of dark brown hair and pleasant blue eyes.
