CHAPTER THREE
Charles choked and needed recourse to the large handkerchief his companion considerately provided him with before he could answer. “Verity, you will be the death of me. Now I understand that handsome breakfast. What have you in mind to do in London that is so much more rational than following an improving programme of reading or some such here?”
“Many things. Charles, you have seen the dower house. It positively invites one to kick against it. London has well-stocked libraries. London has galleries and museums. London has those scientific lectures you were telling us about at dinner yesterday. They sound most interesting.”
Charles silently cursed himself for a fool. “I will send you the transcripts.”
Small blue demons danced in Verity’s eyes as she folded her hands demurely in her lap. “I also thought I might go about with you, Charles. Then there can be no question of not spending my time in a rational manner, for I am sure you do nothing that is not sensible and sober.”
Charles did many things that were neither sensible nor sober, and he had no intention of enlightening Verity about them. The very thought made his blood run cold. “Leaving aside the small difficulty that the majority of my daylight hours are spent working, you, your mother and your maids will never fit into my bachelor quarters in the Albany,” he said.
“How ridiculous you are. We will stay with Godmama, of course, as we have always done before. She wrote to invite us some time ago. She won’t mind at all.”
“Very likely not, unfortunately. It is a dreadful idea, Verity. Julia is hardly the companion to aid you in a pursuit of rationality. I don’t believe I have seen her with a book in her hands since she left school.” He thought back. “Possibly not even then.”
Verity’s eyes flickered for a moment. “Dearest Julia. She will help me when I explain. Besides, I wish to extract Mama from Reverend Milsom’s orbit.”
As a non-sequitur, it was masterly. As the carriage jolted over the ruts in the lane, Charles felt his lips twitch and had to struggle to keep his face straight. How did Verity do this? “That seems unnecessarily harsh on the parson,” he said. “Is there a reason for so callous an act?”
Verity nodded, and now she was not smiling at all. “Do you know Reverend Milsom? No? You are lucky. He has pale, fervent eyes, an encroaching disposition and an unrelenting conviction that he is the only way to salvation. He was most persistent about suggesting private prayer sessions if Mama was finding it a struggle adjusting to widowhood, until I artlessly mentioned that she only had the use of her pension and this house whilst she remained a widow and would lose both if she remarried. His visits have now become satisfyingly infrequent and I would like to remove her from Kennet End before some gossipy person spreads the word about my uncle’s annuity.”
Charles regarded her with exasperation. Not only was there was nothing more likely in a country neighbourhood, it was almost the one circumstance that would reconcile him to their transition to town. “For someone who claims to hardly stir from the house, you have a profound knowledge of human nature,” he said, sounding huffy even to his own ears.
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to tell me what is it you really want to do in London?”
Instead of answering at once, Verity put her head on one side and studied him, as if weighing him up. It was oddly disconcerting. “I am going to look for Kitty,” she said.
It was the last thing he had expected. Charles was taken aback, both by the statement and her air of quiet determination. “Kitty? Your half-sister? Is she missing then?”
“I do not know. After she eloped - for which I really cannot blame her, considering how vital and good-humoured Captain Eastwick was, compared to the dry-bones Papa intended marrying her to - Papa refused to have her name mentioned at home. He didn’t make the least push to follow them, and he forbade anyone to read her letters, should she send any. I miss her, Charles. I loved Kitty very much. I want to know where she is. I want to know she is happy.”
Charles wrinkled his brow, trying to recall the facts. “Captain Eastwick... was he a serving soldier? Suppose he is stationed somewhere distant?”
“I believe he had been injured in Spain and was already invalided out of the army when he came to Newmarket, but if that is not the case, then I can write to her. You will know how to discover the regiment. I think, though, that Kitty is in London.”
“But, Verity, it’s been years, surely?”
“Seven. I know it seems unlikely, but when we were at St George’s for John and Selina’s wedding, I thought I glimpsed her on the pavement amongst the other people. I promise it was not because I was looking for her, because I had no idea she might be there.”
Whatever else his least welcome client was, she was not fanciful. He tried to push away the feeling of foreboding that, for good or ill, he was about to become embroiled in one of Verity’s schemes again. “You had better tell me,” he said heavily.
Verity beamed at him. “You know that there are always people gathered outside a church, out of curiosity or just to see the wedding finery? I was looking around after we came out, because anything was better than the smugness on Selina’s face as she accepted congratulations, and I saw Kitty. She was watchful and still, the way I have sometimes seen her, and she had a small girl by the hand. I was sure it was her. But she disappeared. I scribbled our direction on a page torn from my pocketbook and tucked it into the palings where she had been standing and I thought perhaps she would contact me, but she never did.”
“The woman you saw was most likely a cut-purse, ready to take her chance with a distracted wedding party. I am afraid I see many such instances during the course of my work.”
She shrugged helplessly. “Maybe so, but I cannot not try, can I? She looked, I don’t know, thin.”
Thin. Charles said slowly, “Have you thought that perhaps the elopement was not everything Kitty had hoped for? Some men, especially if the woman is unhappy at home and supposes herself in love, can be very persuasive.”
“Do you mean she may not be married at all?” Verity bit her lip. “Then even more must I tell her Papa is dead and she can come back and live with me and Mama. And the child too, if it is hers.”
“Even if, in the eyes of society, she is ruined? That will reflect on you and your mother. Your chances of making a good match would be virtually nil.”
“Charles, she is my sister. Mama brought her up as a daughter and still grieves for her loss. How should I care for my reputation if Kitty is in need?”
“John might have something to say on that head.”
“John always has something to say. The dower house is Mama’s for life so long as she remains unwed. Kitty can live with us until we find somewhere else. And if it effectively disposes of Reverend Milsom’s advances on Mama, so much the better. Will you help me?”
Charles raised his eyes briefly heavenwards. She already knew he would help. Mr Tweedie might depend on him to do the right thing, but Charles never had been able to resist Verity. It was one reason he had not wanted this commission. He sighed. “We will go to London and I will put you in the way of an investigative agent I have used before,” he said. “More than that, I cannot promise.”
“Thank you.” She peeped up at him. “Is this rational behaviour?”
The carriage had turned in at Rooke Hall. Verity’s timing was faultless. Charles felt a momentary relief that there was nothing more she could ambush him with. He smiled. “In my eyes it is.”
“Truly, Jenny, I did feel a little bad teasing Charles when he was so determined to be an upstanding man of business, but it is the right thing to do, and he agreed it in the end. And I very nobly did not remind him that, in point of fact, there is nothing he or John can do to stop Mama paying a visit to an old friend and taking me with her.”
Jenny Prettyman chuckled. “Most restrained of you. Even so, it is as well it was not Mr Tweedie who came to settle your affairs.”
“No indeed. Mama may say Mr Tweedie is a dear sweet man, but I own my heart did leap when I saw Charles descend from the gig, even though then I only had in mind to tax him about Mama’s money. I have never not known him amenable and... and amiable, even as a boy. Heaven knows he has always come to the rescue when Julia and I found ourselves in a scrape.”
“He is a good man. Adam likes him very much. It cannot have been easy for him to put aside his friends and a life of gentlemanly leisure and work for a living.”
Verity felt a tiny pinprick of shock at this point of view. Charles was Charles. When the news had been disseminated that he was to follow the law, she had not thought it in any way strange. It had seemed natural that he would want a profession. “I suppose it could not have been. I had not thought of it before. Woman of our class are expected to be biddable and decorative until we marry. If I pull against that, why should not Charles? He is certainly not the type to live without purpose.” Biddable and decorative. The two most insipid words in the lexicon. Another thought formulated in her mind. “Do you like being married, Jenny?”
Her friend laughed. “Very much. Why do you ask?”
“Because Mama did not, I think. So I was determined never to marry, but you seem quite content. Of course, you have Rooke Hall to manage, and Adam’s children and your cousin to look after...”
“And our own babe too when spring comes, but that has little to do with the married state. I was never in love before, so I have nothing to compare this with, but my heart lifts when I think of Adam. He is the companion of my life, no matter what other responsibilities we have. My own parents were the same, all in all to each other. Forgive me, but I do not think your mother had a similar affinity with Mr Bowman.”
“No indeed. They were very unalike. It depends on the gentleman, then?”
“The gentleman, what you feel for him, what he feels for you. You will know when it is right.”
Verity considered this, her head on one side. She nodded. “I shall remember. Thank you, Jenny. But as my inclination is not to marry if I have enough to live on without doing so, and I go to London solely to search for Kitty, it hardly matters. We are still in mourning for Uncle James, so won’t be moving in society.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though Julia I suppose may have other ideas.”
“Is it your intention to keep Charles with you until you go? Will you both dine here tomorrow and bring your mother? Caroline and Alexander Rothwell are in Newmarket for the whole of October because of the racing. They may be at leisure and able to join us.”
Verity beamed. “You are the best of friends. I accept with pleasure. Two days will be perfect as far as our packing is concerned. Anticipating Charles’s agreement, I set it in train last night and dispatched a letter from Mama and me to Godmama. He has no option, really, but to escort us. However, your invitation will sweeten the pill and help him justify to himself the delay in returning to his chambers. I believe he knows the Rothwells socially, does he not? He and Alexander and Adam can all talk politics together which will amuse them very well. In truth, Charles could do with a rest from his work. He seems tired, but that may be the result of having his nice tidy plans thwarted. Oh, and I have had another idea. We can ride over to Furze House after we have been to church, so I can show him I am in earnest about removing there. The gardener and his wife are still in their cottage and have a set of keys. I am sure when Charles has seen the rooms and the pleasant prospect, he will agree it is far superior to the dower house, even if it is a trifle shabby.”
“And once you are in London? How will you ensure his cooperation in your quest to search for your sister? He has concerns of his own to deal with. He cannot neglect his other clients.”
“I wouldn’t ask him to. If he will but set me on the right route to finding Kitty, there will be no need for me to disturb him. I have frequently stayed with Julia and her parents before. London is not wholly strange to me.”
Jenny made a wry face. “It will become more familiar the longer you spend there. From my dealings with Mr Tweedie over the years, much as I esteem the dear man, I cannot say his chambers are very swift to deal with matters, even those he considers urgent. Although, being scrupulously fair, events do happen rather faster now Adam has got into the habit of catching the stage to visit Charles every few weeks.”
“Is that so? Well then, I shall take steps to ensure that Charles discovers in himself a compelling need to speed my search.”
“I tell you, Adam, if we hadn’t been travelling in her own carriage I’d have dumped the minx in the lane and come on here alone. As it is, it wouldn’t surprise me to find all the trunks corded and ready on our return.”
Adam Prettyman laughed and drew them each another tankard. They were in his land office where he found the presence of a barrel of ale made a considerable difference when discussing estate matters with his foreman or the tenant farmers. “Verity is a determined young woman, but she strikes me as having a good heart.”
“Oh, she has - together with a conviction that she is always right. I have known Verity forever and have no illusions about her. I hope she will not be too distressed if we do trace her sister. You know as well as I the likely fate of those poor souls who are persuaded to elope to London thinking they are in love.”
Adam’s grim expression reflected his own. “I do indeed. Not only to London. Do you have contacts amongst your more interesting acquaintance who could help if hers is one of those cases?”
His more interesting acquaintance. The Pool, in other words. The loose ‘pool of talent’ that his one-time school fellow Benedict Fitzgilbert had drawn together to combat the rising tide of lawlessness in London. That was definitely something he would need to hide from Verity.
Fitz’s had been a simple idea. To recruit gentlemen who had a particular area of expertise, and who shared his own progressive ideas, and to see if they might pool their resources in a war against crime. Fitz provided the funds and the connections, including access to Sir Nathaniel Conant, Chief Magistrate at Bow Street. Charles’s contribution was a sound knowledge of the law, a working relationship with London’s poor, and a useful affinity with the card table. Other members had other skills.
For the Pool to function successfully, it had to be invisible. Adam was one of the very few people who were privy to Charles’s clandestine life. “Any number,” said Charles, answering him, “but it will be tricky just now for me to make contact. The Pool have had whisper of a shadowy gentleman that we have suspected the existence of for some time. We think he is behind a number of women’s disappearances as well as running a score of unsavoury establishments catering for all degrees of vice. I’m loathe to do anything more than tiptoe through the outskirts of his empire until I am more sure of who hides within the rumours.”
“Can you make enquiries for Verity’s sister by proxy then? Use my name if you wish.”
Charles shook his head. “Not until we know more. I learned very early not to involve others. This particular shadow has a swift and merciless way with loose mouths. I’ll not have retribution falling on the innocent. I’ve a couple of aliases that will serve if it comes to it. But thank you.”
“It wouldn’t be ‘involving’ me if I made the enquiries myself.”
“I can’t do that, Adam.”
“As you wish. It is your fight. But remember, if you need a strong arm, send me word.”
Charles quirked an eyebrow at that. “Is settled life palling on you? Are you hankering for the boards again?”
“Hardly, there is enough to do and more here. I am enjoying the challenge of being a gentleman farmer again, but I’ll not deny that some action in a good cause wouldn’t go amiss. What is the point of being built like a bear and not using it?”
Charles clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s a promise then. If I do track down my shadowy target, there’s no one I’d rather have at my back, that’s for sure.”
“At your back, is it? I was thinking more side by side. This isn’t an idle offer, Charles. I’ve lost enough young actresses, and promising actors too, to the lures of the city to have no qualms about bringing the puppet masters to justice.”
“Then I will send word if there is time. Meanwhile, shall we join the ladies and see what fresh variation of hell has been cooked up for me?”
“Certainly. I am not sure I envy you this task at least. It is an interesting conundrum, to decide what constitutes rational behaviour. How do you look to resolve it?”
Charles squared his shoulders as if the guillotine, rather than a civilised nuncheon, awaited him in the dining room. “I don’t believe I will have to. By now it has almost certainly been resolved for me.”