“I’ll wager fifty quid she’s on her way to the coast this very minute.”
“I’ll kill her,” Vawtry croaked. “She can’t leave me. Shecan’t.”
“Because you’ll hunt her down,” Dain said mockingly. “You’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. If, that is, I don’t see you hanged first.”
The color abruptly drained from Vawtry’s battered face, leaving a mottled landscape on a sickly grey background.
Dain studied his former comrade for a long moment. “The trouble is, I can think of no more fiendish a purgatory than the one you’ve stumbled into all by yourself. I can imagine no torment more hellish than being hopelessly besotted with Charity Graves.” He paused. “Except one.” Dain’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. “And that is being married to her.”
It was the most efficient solution, Dain decided. It was certainly a great deal less bother than prosecuting the besotted fool.
Vawtry had committed one crime, arson, and attempted another, theft.
Still, he had set fire to the least valuable structure on the estate and, thanks to the damp and the quick action of Dain’s people, the damage was minimal.
As to the theft: Jessica had punished the inept criminal more brutally than Dain would have done. That a woman had administered the punishment added a lovely touch of humiliation to Vawtry’s other woes.
Any gentleman possessing a modicum of masculine pride would rather have his ballocks torn off with red-hot pincers than allow the world to learn he’d been thrashed by a slip of a female.
Therefore, with the wisdom of Solomon—and a vivid recollection of Jessica’s blackmail method in Paris—His Lordship pronounced sentence.
“You will find Charity Graves, wherever she is,” Dain told his prisoner. “And you will marry her. That will make you legally responsible for her. And I will hold you legally andpersonallyresponsible if she ever comes within ten miles of my wife, my son, or any other member of my household. If she bothers us—any of us—ever again, I will throw a large dinner party, Vawtry.”
Vawtry blinked. “Dinner?”
“To this dinner, I will invite all of our boon companions,” Dain told him. “And when the port goes round, I shall stand up and regale the company with your fascinating adventures. I will provide a deliciously detailed account, in particular, of what I observed this evening from my front doorway.”
After the moment it took him to comprehend, Vawtry went to pieces. “Find her?” he cried, looking wildly about him. “Marry her?How?Gad, can’t you see? I wouldn’t have got into this if I weren’t three paces ahead of the bailiffs. I’venothing, Dain. Less than that.” He groaned. “Five thousand less, to be precise. I’mruined. Don’t you see? I wouldn’t have come to Devon at all if Beaumont hadn’t told me I could win a fortune at the wrestling match.”
“Beaumont?” Dain repeated.
Vawtry didn’t heed him. “Fortune, indeed. With those buffle-headed amateurs. Do you believe it?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “He was roasting me, the swine. ‘Greatest match since Cann and Polkinghorne,’ he said.”
“Beaumont,” Dain said again.
“Twenty thousand, he told me the thing was worth,” Vawtry went on miserably. “But he was roasting me about that, too, wasn’t he? Said he knew a Russian who’d sell his firstborn for it. And Ibelievedhim.”
“So it wasn’t Bertie Trent who put the idea in your head, after all, but Beaumont,” Dain said. “I might have known. He bears me a grudge,” he explained to the bewildered Vawtry.
“A grudge? But why pick on me?”
“To make you resentful of me, in hopes of creating ill will between us, I suppose,” Dain said. “That he could add to your miseries at the same time simply made the business more delightful for him,” Dain frowned. “He’s nothing more than a sneaking troublemaker. He hasn’t the nerve to seek revenge like a man. Which makes it all the more annoying that he has succeeded in his spiteful game far beyond his wildest dreams.” His frown deepened. “I might have had you hanged. And he would have laughed himself sick.”
While Vawtry was trying to digest this, Dain took a slow turn about the small room, reflecting.
“I believe I will pay your debts, Vawtry,” he said finally.
“You’llwhat?”
“I will also make you a modest annual allowance,” Dain went on. “For services rendered.” He paused and folded his hands behind his back. “You see, my very dear, very loyal friend, I had no idea how valuable my icon was…until you told me. I had actually planned to give it to Mrs. Beaumont, in exchange for a portrait of my wife. Jessica had told me how much Mrs. Beaumont admired the icon. I thought it would be a more pleasing reward to the artist than mere coins.” Dain smiled faintly. “But no portrait, even by the brilliant Leila Beaumont, is worth twenty thousand quid, is it?”
Vawtry had finally caught on. His battered face was creasing into a smile.
“Naturally, you will write to Beaumont, thanking him for sharing the information,” Dain said. “It would be the polite thing to do. And naturally, as your very dear friend, he will be unselfishly delighted that you were able to profit from his wisdom.”
“He’ll be tearing his hair out when he reads it,” Vawtry said. Then he flushed. “Pox take me, Dain, I hardly know what to say or think. Everything—gone so wrong—yet you’ve found a way to turn it right, in spite of what I did. If you’d dropped me into the nearest bog, there’s not a fellow in England who’d blame you.”
“If you do not keep that infernal female out of my way, I’ll drop you both into a bog,” Dain promised. He moved to the door. “Phelps will find someone to patch you up. I’ll send one of the servants along to you with travel funds. And by the time the sun comes up, I will expect you to be gone, Vawtry.”
