“She won’t get away with this!” said Campbell, the breath rushing through his teeth. “I’d sooner see her dead!”
This wasn’t the first time Reeve had heard this, but each time the words were uttered more viciously. He was beginning to realize that he was in over his head. He didn’t mind taking Jane Mayberry down a peg or two, and the same went for Castleton, but Campbell seemed to have murder on his mind, and that frightened him.
If only he would stop drinking! He was guzzling the brandy as though it were lemonade.
He cleared his throat. “They’ll be expecting trouble, ” he said. “If I were you, I’d wait for a few days, even a week or two, before I showed my face again.”
In a few days, he’d be far, far away in Bath, establishing an alibi, so that if anything happened to Jane Mayberry, no one could point a finger at him.
Campbell rounded on him, and the spit fairly flew from his lips. “She thinks she’s got the better of me, but I swear to you she hasn’t. I’m not afraid of Castleton. My bloodlines are as good as his,
and
my connections. Do you know who is the head of my house?”
An answer was expected. “Ah, no,” said Reeve. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“The Duke of Argyll.”
Reeve looked suitably impressed, and Campbell nodded. “Yes,” he went on, “the Duke of Argyll. He and my father are second cousins.”
What this had to do with Castleton, Reeve had no idea. But Campbell’s temper could explode like gunpowder, so he prudently kept his thoughts to himself.
He gave a start when someone knocked at the door. Campbell merely frowned, shook his head, and went to answer it.
Two men stood on the threshold, one a little way to the side of the other. “Mr. James Campbell?” the one barring the door politely inquired.
“Who wants to know?” Campbell demanded belligerently.
“I do,” replied the man at the door, “Capt. John Cox of Special Branch. You’re wanted for questioning, Mr. Campbell.” He looked beyond Campbell to Reeve. “And you, too, Lord Reeve.”
Reeve wasted no time in retrieving his hat, gloves, and cane. This was the perfect opportunity for him to get away from Campbell. He knew all about Special Branch, though it had been established only in the last year or two. These men were officers of the law. And he had nothing to fear. He was an innocent bystander. Once they’d questioned him, they would let him go.
Campbell said, “And what the devil is Special Branch?”
“We’ll explain on the way, sir,” said Cox. “Nothing to worry about, but there’s a complaint been made against you by Miss Jane Mayberry.”
“Oh, there has, has there! Well, we’ll soon put that right.” Campbell’s hands balled into fists.
Cox moved aside the edge of his coat to show that his pistol was tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “I’d advise you both to come quietly,” he said.
Reeve needed no second telling. He was first out the door.
Chapter 19
Case arrived at Woodlands to find Lady Sophy in a great state of agitation and Jane in her room with the door locked. “She won’t let me in or speak to me,” said her ladyship
“What happened?” asked Case.
“I don’t rightly know. There was some sort of altercation just inside the gates, a drunkard who’d come to the wrong house by the sound of it. That’s what I thought at first. But after Jane locked herself in her room, I didn’t know what to think. Do you know who he is, Caspar?”
“I think I should speak to Jane before jumping to conclusions.”
“Of course, if she’ll see you. Mrs. Trent is with her, but she refuses to see anyone else.”
Case smiled into his aunt’s worried eyes. With an authority he hoped was convincing, he said, “She’ll see me. And don’t worry. I’m sure it’s a tempest in a teacup. Why don’t you send for a pot of coffee and after I see Jane, I’ll talk to you.”
When his aunt went off, he went in search of Ruggles.
“He called her Mrs. Campbell?” said Case.
“Yes, sir.”
“And he said there would be no divorce?”
Ruggles nodded.
“And Reeve was there?
“Yes, sir. In the hackney.”
Case now had a fair idea of what had sent Jane running to her room, and though Ruggles kept his expression neutral, it seemed to Case that he had a fair idea too. “What about the porters?” asked Case. “What do they make of it?”
“They think he mistook the house and mistook Miss Mayberry for someone else. We could smell the drink on him, sir. He was in a bad way.”
“Thank you, Ruggles. Consider yourself off duty.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Case took a few moments to turn things over in his mind. He wasn’t sure who was going to be the bigger problem, Campbell or Jane. Either way, he was determined to win.
He knocked at the door. “It’s Case, Jane. Let me in.”
The door was opened by Mrs. Trent. “She’s expecting you, your lordship,” she said, then, as she slipped by him into the corridor, “Be patient. That’s what she needs most right now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Trent.”
Mrs. Trent gave no indication that she’d heard the edge in his voice. She bobbed a curtsy and hurried away.
He could smell the marmalade tea as soon as he entered the chamber. Jane was sitting in an armchair close to a blazing fire. Lance was curled at her feet, alert, watching Case as though he might turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It wasn’t the welcome he’d been looking forward to.
He said pleasantly, “Was it really necessary to hide in your room?”
She looked at him, then looked away. Her voice sounded strained. “It seemed easier. I didn’t know how to explain things to Lady Sophy, and I wanted to talk to you first.”
He pulled up a chair close to Jane’s and paused when Lance let out a soft growl. Case looked him in the eye. “Thank you, Lance,” he said, “but the warning is unnecessary. Mrs. Trent has already spoken to me.”
When Lance looked away, Case sat down. “I hear,” he said, “that there was a fair amount of excitement at the front gates not long before I arrived.”
“My husband,” she said, “as I’m sure you know. He created quite a stir.”
She was calmer than he’d anticipated, and he glanced at the teapot on the table beside her chair and wondered how much marmalade tea she’d had.
“Go on,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened.”
Her eyes were very dark, but her gaze was direct. “What happened,” she said, “was that I realized that I’ve been living in a dream world. Jack will never divorce me. I think, deep down, I always knew it.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I don’t think I ever convinced you that he’s a dangerous man. He looks normal; he can be charming, reasonable . . . but it’s all an act. There’s a touch of madness there. He doesn’t love me, not what you and I would call love, but he thinks he owns me. I think he’d rather see me dead than go to anyone else.”
“Twenty thousand pounds—” he began.
She stopped him with a slashing motion of one hand. Lance lifted his head and glared at Case.
“Money doesn’t matter to Jack,” she said. “Pride, losing face—I don’t know what to call it, but that’s what matters to him. I didn’t leave him just because he abused me. I left him because he was insanely jealous, because he was obsessed with me. And nothing has changed.”
He knew where this was leading, and his patience began to wane. “I’m sorry,” he said, “bitterly sorry that you were subjected to his vitriol tonight. And, if I could change the past, I would. But I can’t. The future is all we have, Jane,
our
future. I thought you were committed to it, committed to
me.
”
Her words came out in a rush. “What kind of life would we have if he doesn’t divorce me?”
His jaw tensed. “A damn good life by my reckoning. You’d have a home, a man who loves you, fidelity, children—”
“Children!” Her lips began to tremble. “That’s my point.” She got up and took a few agitated paces around the room then came back to the hearth. Her shoulders were heaving. “You’re not a fool! You know what I’m saying! Our children would be born out of wedlock. That’s what Jack yelled at me tonight. ‘Tell Castleton he’ll breed bastards.’ ”
He didn’t know whether to comfort her or shake her. Anger won out. The first major hurdle and she’d stumbled. He rose to face her. “It won’t be the first time a Devere has fathered bastards—your word, not mine. But if it matters to you. Fine. We won’t have children.”
She was incredulous. “What about your heirs? You’ll have to marry to secure the succession.”
“I have a brother. Let Justin secure the succession. And it’s a bit late in the day to be throwing this in my face. We’ve shared a few reckless hours in that very bed. What do you have to say to that, Miss Mayberry?”
Her huge eyes stared at the bed and she bit down on her bottom lip. “We’re lucky,” she said. She looked up at Case. “My courses came today. I’m not with child.”
“Lucky!” He flung the word at her. “Is that what you call it?”
At this point, Lance got up, shook himself off, then padded to the far side of the bed where he plumped himself down, out of sight of the two combatants.
Case combed his fingers through his hair. “Christ!” he said violently, and stalked to the window. With his back to her, he said, “This conversation is pointless anyway. Campbell will divorce you. I’ll make him. Then we’ll marry.”
She sank back into her chair. Her voice was no more than a shaken whisper. “You don’t know Jack.”
He turned then, his mouth oddly twisted. “No, Jane. You don’t know me.” Whatever he saw in her face angered him again. “Where do you think I’ve spent most of my adult life? Spain. Fighting for my country. I was no ordinary soldier. Much of the time, I didn’t wear a uniform, and neither did the men in my unit. We were assigned to special duties. We did the dirty work for people like my brother-in-law. I’ve killed men with my bare hands and thought nothing of it.”
He was staring at his hands as though there was blood on them, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
His voice was more subdued, as though he were speaking to himself. “Some called us executioners, some called us assassins. They were only partly right. But there was no doubt that we were efficient killers. We didn’t take prisoners.”
When her breath caught, he looked up quickly and their eyes locked. He nodded. “Yes,” he said, “we weren’t quite civilized. Why do you think Piers hates me so much? My orders weren’t to capture him and his bandits but to annihilate them. And that’s what we did.”
He was breathing heavily, the air rushing in and out of his lungs. “Now, you tell me what Jack Campbell was doing when I was in Spain bloodying my hands. Wining, gaming, and wenching—that’s what he told me. And you think he’s a match for me? If he knew me, really knew me, he’d be trembling in his boots right now.”
She believed him, this man who had a stranger’s face.
The silence drew out. He sighed, reached for her, and raised her to her feet. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I don’t know why I told you about Spain. I was a different man then, and it was another life. Don’t be afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” she said quickly, too quickly to be convincing.
“It was war.”
“I know. I understand.”
His lips flattened. “Good. Then you’ll know that Campbell doesn’t frighten me. For your sake, I was willing to act like a gentleman. Now I’ll play by different rules.”
His eyes narrowed as his gaze caught the glint of something on the floor in front of the window, something he hadn’t noticed until then. “What in blazes are those?” he demanded, though he was well aware that they were her traveling boxes. His eyes jerked up to meet hers.
“I thought I’d go to Sally’s for a few days. We need time to think things through. I need to be alone. I can’t think straight when I’m with you.”
“You can’t leave here!”
Her head came up at that, and temper heated her eyes. “Now, just a minute—”
“No. It’s useless to argue with me. I can’t let you go. Don’t you understand anything? It’s not Campbell we have to fear, but Piers. He knows you’re under my protection. You’re safe here, and here you’ll remain until I decide what to do with you.”
Lance emerged from behind the bed and bared his fangs at no one in particular. Case pointed a finger at him. “And the same goes for you!”
He stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Case talked with his aunt, as promised, but he stayed only five minutes, and when he left, her ladyship’s mind was deeply troubled. She sympathized, truly sympathized with their plight, but divorce . . . that was a stigma no woman could escape. Jane would be ostracized.
She’d known better than to try to reason with her nephew. He could not be swayed by anyone’s opinion. She toyed with the idea of trying to reason with Jane and rejected it. Casper would never forgive her.
She was not one to pine for the impossible, so she sat down at the escritoire in her bedchamber and began to write out a list of names, those friends and acquaintances whom she hoped she could count on to see Jane through the scandal that would soon burst upon them. Jane was not going to be cast out of society if she had anything to do with it.
Case came upon Waldo talking to Harper in the stable block. He spoke to Harper first. “Harper. I know you regard yourself as my bodyguard, but there was an altercation here tonight, and I’d feel happier if you kept an eye on Miss Mayberry. Mr. Bowman can look after me.”
Harper peered into Case’s face, recognized that something serious was amiss, and nodded. “I’ll make sure no harm comes to her.”
Case waited until Harper was out of earshot. “So, Waldo,” he said, “here you are again. What are you— my shadow?”
Waldo let out a theatrical sigh. “I know how careless you are about your safety, and I thought, for old time’s sake, I’d keep an eye on you.”
Case cocked his head to one side. “Is this my brother-in-law’s idea?”
“He may have mentioned something to me before he left for Scotland, but I believe the idea was mine. Now, tell me about this altercation tonight.”
“I’ll tell you when we get to Cook’s Hotel.”
Waldo’s brows lifted. “Campbell?”
Case nodded.
He had the groom saddle two horses because, he said, his curricle was too obvious. So they left the curricle in the courtyard and were soon swallowed up by the night.
All the landlord could tell them was that Mr. Campbell and his friend, Lord Reeve, had left the hotel some time since with two other gentlemen and had not returned. There was nothing suspicious about it. Everyone behaved naturally, although it did look as though Mr. Campbell had, perhaps, a little too much to drink.
“What time was this?” asked Case.
“Not three hours ago. No. Closer to two, else I wouldn’t have seen them. We had just cleared up after dinner when Lord Cadogan asked if he might see over my wine cellar. A very fine wine cellar I keeps here, if I do say so myself, sir, and his lordship—”
“Thank you,” said Case. “We’ll wait in the taproom, and perhaps you would send up a bottle of your best claret?”
The landlord’s crestfallen expression cleared. “Certainly, sir. You won’t be disappointed.”
When they were settled in the taproom, drinking the excellent claret, Case sketched out the details of Campbell’s unwelcome intrusion at Woodlands that evening, and gave a modified account of Jane’s reaction to it. Waldo wasn’t fooled for a moment.
“You mean,” he said, “she’s jilting you?” When Cases’s eyes narrowed, Waldo said airily, “Well, we can’t have that.” He lowered his voice. “I take it you’re not going to call Campbell out? No, I thought not. That won’t solve anything. And if you kill him, even your brother-in-law won’t be able to save you. So, it’s down to a little gentle persuasion?”
“Only enough to make his hair turn white overnight,” Case replied. “You’ll have a cheroot?”
They smoked in companionable silence for some minutes. Finally, Case said, “You know, Waldo, it’s always a relief to be with you.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you don’t keep asking me about the war; you don’t keep asking why Piers hates me so much.”
“No,” said Waldo. He blew out a spiral of smoke and watched it dissipate. “I was there. I know what happened.”
“Were we barbarians?”
Waldo turned his head and gave his friend a direct stare. “We saved thousands of lives. Don’t expect me to feel guilty for that. And don’t become too soft. Piers isn’t a barbarian. He’s a savage. Remember that.”
At the end of half an hour, the claret was finished and they were becoming impatient.
“Let’s take a look upstairs,” said Case. “It’s possible Campbell has come in a back way.”
No one answered the door when Case knocked. There were no sounds coming from inside the room. It took them only a few seconds to force the lock. Waldo grabbed a candle from a wall sconce and led the way in.
There was not much to see. It was a comfortable room as one would have expected in an establishment like Cook’s. A pile of clothes were on the floor; a bottle of brandy was on the table with two used glasses; there was also a letter.
“From Robert,” said Case, quickly scanning the contents.