“How did the third marchioness meet her end?” asked Mrs. Blackmore.
“According to gossip at the time,” said Allan, with a glance at Isaac and Jerome, “she died in a carriage accident while running away with a lover.”
“It’s a lie. She would not have run away without her sons,” Donald insisted.
Mrs. Blackmore continued asking questions and making notes in her little book. Allan didn’t see how any of this sordid and miserable history would help.
Baldwin said so.
“It will help us to find his enemies,” said Mrs. Blackmore, calmly. “It may take time, though, to marshal the resources to stand against him. In the meantime, you need a solution before Lord Kemble, Lord Baldwin, and Lord Ernest are forced into an unwanted marriage.”
“We shall refuse all the way to the altar,” said Allan, firmly. “Even if the three prospective brides are harpies-in-training, I’ll not bring them into the mess that is our family.”
“A pity you don’t have time to find wives of your own choosing,” said Thomasina. “Cornelius cannot be forced to marry by any power under Heaven.”
“True,” said Baldwin, thoughtfully. “If I were already wed, I could laugh in the marquess’s face.”
“What gives your father power over you?” asked Mrs. Blackmore. “Money, is it not? And Jerome’s age?”
Cornelius spoke up again. “And Isaac’s, initially. And the marquess’s willingness to interfere when we try to strike out on our own. Mrs. Blackmore, we have all tried to find work that would make us independent of the marquess, but he has stoppedus at every turn. Then, when we were imprisoned and found a way out, we had to be careful. We couldn’t risk coming to the marquess’s attention. Then Ernest told us about the Golden Adonis. What the marquess does not know about, he cannot stop.”
“I heard about it from a friend at one of the events his lordship commanded me to attend,” Ernest offered.
“We have been able to save a small nest egg,” Allan said. “Enough to get Jerome and Isaac out of the country for a while, and to give each of us money to start us somewhere new. The problem is that his lordship won’t accept our escape.”
Thomasina emitted a huff of contempt. “What can he do?” she demanded. “You are all of age. He cannot demand you return home.”
“What he has done before,” Mrs. Blackmore explained. “He can make it impossible for them to find employment. Bribery, threats, coercion. Whatever is required to convince an employer to let them go. He will assume that, when they are hungry enough, they will come home.”
“Cornelius is coming to France with me to be a vintner,” said Thomasina, firmly. “It is a family business in another country, and the marquess can do nothing about it.”
“Except discourage your customers,” Baldwin grumbled.
Thomasina glared. “Let him dare, and he shall see what Frenchwomen are made of.”
“Best to stop him before things go that far,” said Mrs. Blackmore.
But in years of thinking about it, his sons had not been able to discover a way to stop him. Allan summarized the situation as it currently stood. “If he can find us, he will make sure our lives are ruined, and the lives of those we care about. So, we shall split our savings and scatter and run, change our identities, hide ourselves away. Some of us will make it.”
“Jerome must go,” said Mrs. Blackmore. “I quite agree. But what if the rest of you stay? Make targets of yourselves? And put watchers on your father to catch him in illegal acts? For you can be certain he is arrogant enough, entitled enough, to do whatever he pleases, thinking no one will hold him to account. With reason, for nasty things happen to those who stand in his way. Let him try to bully you in full view of Society and, if he is overconfident enough, the law. If it works, you might all be able to live in the open and in peace.”
There was silence for a moment, as Allan and his brothers and sister-in-law absorbed what she had said.
Baldwin was the first to speak.
“By Jove’s purple stockings, Mrs. Blackmore. That might actually work.”
