Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next morning began a little behind schedule, due to some quite understandable occurrences between a couple so newly married. However, they managed to drag themselves to the parlor for breakfast only an hour later than usual. Something which, given their morning activities, might have been considered quite speedy.
“You two look like…” Grace hid a laugh in her napkin. “Well, let’s just say you look married.”
Perry, who was finishing off his toast, nodded. “Agreed. I was rather surprised to get your note this morning. I’d assumed, mistakenly it would seem, that you would both be recuperating from yesterday.”
“We were.” Max poured tea, and helped himself to eggs.
“Hmm. I’ve not heard it called that before.” Grace raised an amused eyebrow.
“Grace.” Kitty sat down. “I’m shocked.”
“Enough,” sighed Max, knowing this banter would continue unless he put a stop to it. “I wanted you both to be here, not because I can’t get enough of your witty comments, but because I have information I think you’ll find quite surprising.”
“Oh yes,” Grace sat up. “The ball. You were going to find Miller-James’s mistress, weren’t you?”
“We did,” said Kitty. “I’m not quite sure what to make of her, but I think she was genuinely distressed at his death.”
“We managed to get her talking,” added Max. “She confirmed Dancey owned the carriage company, but that he wasn’t a business man of much repute. He left most things to his managers.” He sipped tea. “However, she let on that he was extremely competitive about his company being the best, and so on. She commented on his association with some people who were not of the first stare. Did she know they were sabotaging other carriages? I’m not sure.”
“I think she had a strong suspicion, Max,” Kitty put in. “She might not be brilliant, but she’s not stupid either. And there was no surprise when you mentioned the accidents happening to Whetstone and Frank’s carriages.”
“So you think these other people were doing the actual sabotage?”
“Probably yes.” He stood and fetched more eggs, returning to the table and seating himself before continuing. “Dancey wouldn’t want his hands dirty, and I doubt anyone who took pride in what they made would deliberately then make it fail. So that eliminates the workers. Whether the manager knew or not, I have no idea. But I wouldn’t put it past Dancey to buy him off if he had to. The man had a goodly sized fortune and could have done so without a blink.”
“All well and good, Max,” said Perry, his expression serious. “But none of this helps us understand why Miller-James took your carriage. If he was behind these heinous acts, or had the remotest idea they were going on—which is pretty obvious that he did—surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually use one himself?”
“I have the same question, Max. Something is wrong with the picture you’re painting.”
“You’re right, and I have to say that caused me no end of frustration.” Max looked at the three faces staring at him from around the table. “And I was unable to come up with an answer until I put two small pieces of this puzzle together.” He paused, simply because he couldn’t help himself. They were hanging on his every word and he was enjoying every minute of it.
“Max…” threatened Kitty.
He grinned. “All right. Remember we’re dealing with two carriage makers, newcomers, both of whom have excellent and similar designs.”
Perry sucked in air and sat back, but said nothing. Grace and Kitty both frowned.
“We detoured last night on the way home, back to the DuClos mansion, where all this began. It took me quite some time and more than a few shillings, but eventually I found a boy loitering who remembered my carriage, and the couple who took it. Your sister, Kitty. She is somewhat of an angelic presence, according to this lad, but his description was close enough. He remembers Hecate.”
“He saw them take the carriage?”
“More than that,” answered Max, his face sober. “This lad was finally persuaded to reveal what he was doing hanging around the carriages at that hour. It took several shillings for him to tell me the man had paid him to saw through a couple of spokes earlier in the evening.”
“Which man?” said Kitty, “Which man, Max?”
“None other than our own villain, Dancey Miller-James.”
Silence fell around the table as they digested this impossible statement.
“Wait…” Kitty held up a hand. “He paid a child to saw through the spokes of a carriage he knew he was going to ride in? That makes no sense…”
“Did he know it was your carriage, Max?” Grace was looking confused.
“I believe he did, Grace. I also believe, thanks to Lady Weston, that Dancey himself had made a huge mistake…”
“Oh,” cried Kitty. “He thought your carriage was a Kanehall. He told her so, didn’t he…she boasted of that last night.”
“Yes. Exactly.” Max smiled at her. “Dancey took his sabotage technique and applied it to my carriage. It was really quite clever.”
“But to what end?” Perry posed the question. “To make it look less like an attempt to undermine Whetstone and Frank?”
“Possibly,” answered Max. “But I think it far more likely Dancey was just looking for an excuse to leave the carriage. I’m willing to wager there’s a small inn or posting house a bit further on that road. A broken wheel would necessitate them putting up for the night.”
“Which is just what he wanted in order to get his hands on Hecate.” Kitty ground out her conclusion between clenched teeth. “Damn. I wish he were here right now. I’d kill him all over again.”
“He killed himself, in other words,” reasoned Grace. “By sawing through a carriage that was already half-damaged, he created not just a minor inconvenience, but a major tragedy.”
“Yes. A broken spoke or two can be risky, without doubt. But a wheel with more than that, or two wheels or however many they sabotaged? It wouldn’t take much speed or too large a bump to topple the damn thing over.”
“Which is pretty much what happened, I suppose,” finished Perry. “This has all the attributes of a Shakespearean quote. ’Tis the sport to have the engineer hoist with his own petard.”
“Well put,” agreed Grace. “Well put indeed.”
“Miller-James was a greedy idiot with no thought for anything but his own pleasures.” Max looked at his wife. “He didn’t care one jot about Hecate or her safety. He wanted to take her, and that was the only thought on his tiny little mind that night.”
“And it’s only by the grace of God that he didn’t get to accomplish his loathsome goal.” Kitty sighed. “He has paid his price. Hecate is still paying hers.”
“Will you check on the inn, Max?” Perry glanced at him.
“It’s a loose end, so yes, you can be sure I’ll tie that one up.”
Silence fell for a few moments, and then Kitty pushed her teacup aside. “I’m relieved to know the truth about that night,” she announced. “For my sister’s sake as well as everyone else’s, especially Max. I’m relieved he wasn’t the target, of course. But I’d also like to see this sabotage stopped. Any idea how we can accomplish that?”
Perry gave a slow nod. “Leave it to me. I believe I know some ears who would like such information. There are those who gobble up tidbits of such things as they pertain to organizations in London that prey on the weak. Should any of them have links to Kanehall, they will be ferreted out and dealt with.”
“It’s in your hands then. I’ll back you up if need be, my friend.” Max rose and clapped him on the shoulder. “In the meantime, my wife and I will be leaving Mowbray House for a few days.”
“We will?” his wife blinked in surprise. “Where are we going?”
Max walked around the table and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “You and I, my love, are going to pay a visit to Ridlington Chase.”
“Oh dear.” She glanced up and over her shoulder at him. “You’re not going to punch my brothers, are you?”
“Ask me when we get there.”
*~~*~~*
“You punched him?” Rosaline, Baroness Ridlington, stared at her husband in shock. “You actually punched your sister’s husband?”
“He did,” said Kitty.
“Left a mark too. If you look close you can still see a bit of the bruise.” Max touched the spot where Edmund’s punch had landed.
“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Edmund’s fierce eyebrows met in a terrifying frown aimed at his wife, who ignored it. “The man had compromised Kitty, and he wasn’t her husband at that point. I was defending her honor. The Ridlington honor.”
“You mean we still have some?” Letitia was smirking on the sofa next to her husband, Sir James FitzArden.
“You be quiet.” Edmund dismissed her comment. “Besides, your husband was there. He kicked him, if I remember rightly.”
“No, no, Edmund. I said I would kick him. But I didn’t want to mess up my boots.”
Rosaline swung on her heel and glared at the other member of the unholy trinity. “Simon…”
Tabitha Ridlington, wife to the beloved vicar himself, sighed dramatically. “He punched him too, Rosaline. Cut his knuckles on one of Mr. Seton-Mowbray’s buttons. I was seriously concerned. I mean he is a vicar, for God’s sake.”
“Well, this is utterly ridiculous.” Rosaline’s hands went to her hips, and Max grinned to see the brothers tremble. “The three of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Did you ever think to talk to Kitty first? To act like brothers instead of…well, I don’t know what…”
“Avenging knights?” ventured James. “I rather like the sound of that.”
“I think there may be a few missing links in your chain mail.” Letitia lifted a scornful eyebrow. “Kitty should have had the lot of you thrown out on your ears. I would have, quicker than the cat can lick it’s ear.”
“I was close to doing just that,” nodded Kitty. “But Max stopped me and told them about Hecate. All of a sudden they stopped viewing him as the enemy.”
Rosaline snorted. “Remember this, Edmund. Talk to anyone you’re angry with before you hit them, all right?”
“If I must.” Edmund sounded most aggrieved. “However, if it helps, I will again offer my thanks for your attentions to Hecate, Max.”
“When can I see her?”
Kitty asked the question for the second time in the hour since she and Max had arrived at Ridlington. It had been splendid to see her family again, and take a peek at a blissfully sleeping little Hugh. But she’d been advised to rest up a little before visiting Hecate, who would need to be awoken and told of her sister’s arrival.
“You can visit her a bit later, love,” said Edmund. “She seems to like us there around tea time, and Dal serves her biscuits. She has smiled once or twice.”
“But still not a word out of her?” worried Kitty.
Rosaline shook her head. “No. I’m afraid not. But she’s healing. She’s home, with us, and Dal—who I must say is the most amazingly caring person—so she is surrounded by all the things she loves. We know she will get better, it’s just taking a lot of time.”
“And her leg?” asked Max.
“A bad break indeed.” Edmund frowned. “But our physician seems to think she will recover from that as well. Although she may need to learn to walk again. We won’t really know until she’s ready to get up and out of bed.”
There was silence for a moment in the room, and Kitty found herself leaning on her husband’s arm as he sat next to her on the sofa in the large parlor. He slipped his hand over hers for comfort.
“It was a terrible tragedy,” said James. “I cannot say I was disconcerted by the death of Miller-James, since what I knew of him was not complimentary. But his loss has affected many people, including his family, for whom I feel sorry.”
“That goes for all of us, I think. Besides being grateful Hecate is alive and with us here, we must remember that any death leaves a void in other lives.” Simon nodded.
“I had a brief note from Bishop Miller-James,” added Tabby. “He is naturally devastated, but took the time to express his blessings and warm wishes for Hecate’s speedy recovery.”
“A gentleman,” said Max.
“Indeed,” agreed Edmund.
“Well then.” Rosaline looked around, and her eyes lit on Max. “Now that you’re part of the family, I’m going to call you Max, if you don’t mind. And you must call me Rosaline.”
Max dipped his head respectfully. “I would be honored, Rosaline. And thank you all for allowing me to wed Kitty.”
His wife snorted. “There was no allowing anything. We made our own decision, did we not?”
Edmund rolled his eyes. “Always doing things the difficult way, aren’t you, love?”
He moved toward her with his hand out, but she stopped him with a look. “Ruffle my hair and I will remove your hand with a blunt butter knife and stick it down your throat.”
“You always hated that, didn’t you?” grinned her unrepentant brother.
“Children, please.” Rosaline’s tone stopped the incipient squabble. “Instead of returning to the age of twelve, I suggest we adjourn to our respective rooms and tidy ourselves. I would prefer we visit Hecate looking halfway decent, rather than like a group of raggle-taggles which has been fighting all afternoon.”
They rose, obedient to the lady of the house. Also acknowledging that she was quite capable of delivering a sharp slap to the ear if necessary. It took a firm hand to run the Ridlingtons, and Rosaline had proved herself up to the challenge.
“Come with me, Max. Let me take you to my bedroom.” The silence that followed Kitty’s comment was deafening.
She sighed.
Letitia leaned over to Max. “Never mind, dear. You’ll soon get used to her.”
Max grinned back. “Do you think so? I rather hope not. Not for a long time, anyway.” He took Kitty’s hand and placed it on his arm. “Come along then, darling. Take me to your bedroom. I can’t wait…”
The rest of the family joined in the laughter, which, thought Kitty to herself, was a rather good way to introduce her husband into the Ridlington clan.
Her husband. It was still a novel and surprising word.
But then again, so was he.