With a curled lip, Teign took the bait. “Farnham caught them on the road to Liverpool. Did you think he wouldn’t? And even if they had reached the ship, they could not have escaped. Farnham ordered the harbor closed down on my authority. Nothing was able to sail.”
Honestly, the marquess is slipping. Farnham had been present in London yesterday and again today. Did the marquess think he had the power of translocation?
“I shall do my best to free my brothers,” he said. “I shall not give you any more hostages. The answer is still no.”
Teign wasn’t expecting that answer. He gaped. And before he could gather himself, Dellborough spoke again. “You have your answer, Lord Teign. You and your bullies are not welcome in my home. Leave now, or be carried to the front door and tossed into the street.”
After a look up at the minstrel’s gallery and another look at the scores of footmen who had silently filed into the diningroom, the marquess glared at him. “I shall be speaking to the king about your support for my rebellious sons,” he threatened.
“I shall also be speaking to the king,” Dellborough replied, calmly.
The marquess cast a fulminating glance around the room and then stormed out, his minions trailing behind him.
“Furness,” said Dellborough to the butler. “That man is not permitted in any of my houses or on my estates. Pass the word. If refusal does not work, you are authorized to use force, and I shall defend you from any repercussions.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” said his wife. “My dear guests, after that interlude, I do not feel I can do justice to this course. May I suggest we go immediately to the drawing room? I shall have tea and sweets served, and port or brandy for those who prefer, and we can ask our questions of Lord Kemble and his brothers.”
*
Lord Teign couldnot have been more helpful to Allan and his brothers if Mel had written his script. The questions in the drawing room didn’t bother with testing the brothers’ truthfulness. Having observed the evidence of Teign’s brutal bullying with their own eyes and ears, they questioned details, and considered possible ways to bring the man to book.
Before any of that, though, they responded to Teign’s threats against Jerome. “Should we take constables to search his townhouse for the missing brothers?” one of them asked. “We can probably obtain a warrant based on who we are and what we have heard.”
Another shook his head. “He could have them anywhere. And the man is a lunatic. If we invade his house, he might hurt one or both of the young men.”
“We do not have to be concerned about Isaac and Jerome,” Allan told them. “They did not go to Liverpool. At the time their ship sailed, the marquess thought we were all still locked up in the tower. We did not go out in public until they were safely on their way to somewhere that is not the Americas. We spread the news about Liverpool, hoping the marquess would hear and take the bait.”
The chuckles and comments signaled that those present approved.
In light of that news, once they reached the point of discussing how to stop Teign, some were in favor of arresting him immediately, for undue violence against his sons. Others urged caution.
“There will be some,” one of the earls said, “who would say the law should not interfere. A man is master of his own house, and has the right to discipline his wives, children, and servants.”
“Discipline, yes,” Nottwick growled. “Abuse, no.”
“I quite agree,” said the earl. “Proving abuse, especially now the bruises have faded, so to speak, is the issue. Remember, this is a marquess we are talking about. A sometime friend of the king, too. No, to convict the man—even to arrest him—we need more. Something that cannot be ignored. I do not suppose he has plotted against Crown and country, has he? Even the king won’t brush over that.”
“We have been thinking along the same lines,” Allan explained. “Mrs. Blackmore suggested it.” He inclined his head to Mel and went on, “Mrs. Blackmore believes that his violence and sense of self-entitlement will have led him to abuses of power against others, not only his wife and family—and we have found this to be true. Mrs. Blackmore, you were present during the interviews this afternoon and our discussions afterward. Would you like to summarize for our friends?”
“One moment,” said someone. “What is Mrs. Blackmore’s interest in Teign’s crimes? What is her place here?”
Mel was taken aback by the question, and before she could marshal her thoughts to make an answer, Allan was speaking for her. “Mrs. Blackmore came to us while investigating the disappearance of her cousin, Lady Cornelius Sheppard. We were initially part of Mrs. Blackmore’s group of suspects, but became her allies and then friends. I am currently courting Mrs. Blackmore in the hopes she will become my wife. Her interest in Teign’s crimes is familial and personal. Her place here is with me.”
Courting? His wife?Why was Allan making such an extravagant claim? Was it just to establish Mel’s place within this lofty group? It must be. She had no illusion that she was important to him beyond the needs of the moment.
The Duchess of Kempbury was speaking. “I have known Melody Blackmore for some years. I consider her a friend, and would trust her with my life. She has successfully solved many puzzles for those who needed the discreet assistance of a person of integrity. Melody, I am glad you are here.”
Kempbury took his cue from his wife. “Mrs. Blackmore, can you explain what interviews Kemble means, your discoveries, and your conclusions?”
Mel took a deep breath and began. “Today, eight servants from Teign’s house came to speak to Lord Kemble. They wanted to tell him that, for a decade or more, Teign has purchased women, and hidden them in guarded chambers of his house.”
“The servants have seen these women?” Kempbury protested. “Then why have they not reported it to the authorities?”
“They are servants, and he is a marquess,” Mel pointed out, resisting the urge to sigh at Kempbury’s naive expectation thatthe magistrates and their constables would make the slightest push to investigate a servant’s claim against their master.
The Duchess of Kempbury explained it in clear terms. “They were afraid no one would listen to them, and that placing information would get them killed.”
“Oh. I see,” said her husband. “Very well, Mrs. Blackmore. I apologize for the interruption.”
