Scandalous Regency Secrets Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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was good for you, I mean. Did you knock again, or simply kick down the door?”
“A little of both,” he admitted. “Remember, I’d just come from a tavern, so I wasn’t entirely sober, and felt rather opposed to being told what to do, especially by a bas—a person I didn’t care for in the first place. Once inside, we discovered someone sprawled on the floor, and not in a pretty state.”
“A woman? You said pretty. You mean a woman, don’t you? Perhaps a female of negotiable affections?”
“You’re rather enamored of that phrase, I believe. Yes, a prostitute. Ferdie had taken his riding crop to her. So—” he was having some trouble being so frank, but Dany really did make it easier for him “—so I wrestled the crop from him and returned the favor. Someone, probably Geoff, shouted, ‘All or none!’ or something similarly ridiculous. In the end, everyone had taken turns with the crop before dumping a now-unconscious Ferdie in front of the dean’s door, a note pinned to his shirt, confessing to his crime. I’m not proud of any of that, but we were young, we were all three-parts drunk...and it happened.”
“You were young,” Dany repeated, nodding her head. “Was he expelled?”
“The woman died the next day, and suddenly Ferdie was gone. The marquis made a sizable donation to the school’s chapel, and Ferdie was banished to a distant cousin somewhere in the wilds of north Ireland, not to leave unless he wished to be disowned. I seem to remember that the cousin was some sort of fire and brimstone holy man who had eschewed money, wine, women and most probably indoor privies. And yes, before you ask, we all found great pleasure in hearing that via Ferdie’s suddenly unemployed valet. When his father died last winter, Ferdie came into the title. I really don’t know more than that.”
“Yes, you do. Or you think you do. We’re almost there, aren’t we?”
He took both her hands in his, lightly rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin. “I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve spoken to Ned and Geoff. But yes, I think we’ve found our man in Ferdie, although he wasn’t the person who brushed past us in the jewelry shop. As to where we are, you and I, I have no answer for you.”
Dany sighed. “I know. Neither do I. We don’t even know each other, do we?”
He leaned in, to whisper his next words in her ear. “How long do you think it takes until two people can be said to know each other?”
Her sigh was rather shaky, and lit a small fire inside him. “Surely longer than two days, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps—” he paused, pressed a light kiss against her ear “—perhaps it takes a lifetime to really know someone else. Or you can know them in an instant, and spend the rest of your life delighting in the knowing.”
She moved slightly away from him, although she didn’t withdraw her hands. “That sounded lovely, if a bit romantical. My parents are...comfortable. Do you think all people who know each other for a lifetime are comfortable with each other?”
He pulled her closer, knowing he should consider her question carefully. “I’m comfortable with you now.”
“Really? That’s nice, I suppose.”
Nice? Well, wasn’t that encouraging?
“You’d rather I were uncomfortable?”
“I suppose I’m thinking about Mari and Oliver, and how she worries that he’s...he’s not as interested as he had been when they married. I don’t think I wish ever to be thought of as a pair of comfortable old slippers.”
He smiled. “I’d say you may rest assured that would never happen.”
“You say that now. But perhaps we’re simply friends. People can strike up friendships quite easily, especially in times of crisis. I already feel as if Clarice is a friend.”
Was Dany sounding just a tad desperate? Attempting to find rhyme or reason in feelings she’d not expected and didn’t know how to interpret?
Should I tell her I’m struggling with the same attempt?
He changed the subject, if only to give them both a chance to relax.
“This sham betrothal was a mistake, for too many reasons to mention, one of them being we seem to have solved the question of who is the blackmailer with almost stunning ease. In fact, all we’ve succeeded in doing is warning Ferdie that we know both your sister and I are being blackmailed. Worse, that Yothers woman showing up with gossip about Darby—my good friend Darby, no less—could very well have tipped him off that we’d planted that gossip, and that the woman had done just what we’d hoped, leading us straight to him. At this point, he may go underground.”
“Retire from the game, you mean? I don’t know the man, of course, but he seems to have gone to a prodigious amount of trouble to seek his revenge. I doubt he’ll turn away at the first fence.”
Bless her, she was always ready to jump from subject to subject, and put her very good mind to very good use. More discussion of their impromptu proposal would wait for another day.
Coop had a sudden memory of Ferdie’s bloody face, where one of the blows from the crop had sliced him to the bone. No, with the scar that wound must have left behind, greeting him in the shaving mirror every morning, it was doubtful he’d give up now.
“Damn.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hear me out. Ferdie has had a long time to build on his hate, plot his revenge on us. We fairly well destroyed his life for the past half dozen years or more, maybe forever, in his mind. That’s not something easily forgotten. But first he had to figure out how to target his victims, or his oppressors, as that’s probably how he sees the thing. Two of them were out of reach—Johnny and Thad—but he’s already gotten to two others.”
“Two? You said Ned Givens was exposed as a card cheat. Who’s the other?”
“Davy. It had to be. I said he’d suffered an accident, but that’s not true. He killed himself.”
Dany’s body went taut with excitement; clearly she loved a mystery, but not as much as solving that mystery. “Because Ferdie was going to expose him? Is that what you’re saying? What did he do wrong?”
“Nothing that I know of, but there had to be something.”
He loved a man, that’s what he did wrong, at least according to the world. What else could he have meant with that note? Somehow, Ferdie had found out, and threatened him with exposure. Lord knew he had enough money in his pockets to buy most any information he wanted.
Including information on me? Yes, of course.
“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand on his forearm. “This is difficult for you, isn’t it?”
“If by difficult you mean it’s taking everything in me not to rush you back to Portman Square before hunting the man down to wring his neck, then yes, it’s difficult. I have to get to Ned tomorrow. I’m already certain he’s in the Fleet because of Ferdie, but I want to hear it from him.”
“He did cheat at cards, didn’t he?”
“He did in school, but after we skinned him to his unmentionables and ran him up the flagpole by his ankles, he promised never to do it again. Which he didn’t, as far as I know, even if it was because no one would sit down with him again. He was really quite good at fuzzing the cards, I’ll hand him that, so he may have tried it again, just to keep in practice. What we need to know is if Ferdie had a hand in exposing him.”
Dany nodded. “Once we know for certain what we’re already convinced we know, what do we do? Mari needs those letters, Coop, and you need to stop this horrible Ferdie person from publishing another chapbook. Only then can you wring his neck, which I wouldn’t suggest doing because people get hanged for that sort of thing and I’d rather miss you.”
“How gratifying. No, I learned