Chapter Eleven

The cover of dusk was the only thing that gave Michael the courage to enter such a disreputable establishment. Before his father died, when Michael was simply a young heir with nary a care in the world, he would have entertained the thought. He would have chased the adventure that came with frequenting a seedy tavern in the middle of the London slums, simply because he could. But now, he was on a mission.

The stench of stale ale assaulted his senses as he stepped inside, mixing with the faint odour of smoke. Michael tried not to twist his nose in distaste, grateful that he had at least worn a large coat before leaving. Everyone had noticed his entrance, even as they continued drinking and talking as if nothing were amiss. The coat gave him a bit of cover, allowing him to blend into the shadows. He would only have a target on his back if he were to step into the tavern in his usual fineries, immediately dubbing himself a person of wealth even if they did not realise that he was a duke. And the kind of men who frequented places like these were not kind men.

George Horton was that kind of man. The kind who wanted to live in the shadows, who did not hesitate very long to commit immoral acts if it meant food on his plate and a warm shirt on his back. Michael would have had a smidgen of respect for a man like that if it weren’t for the fact that George Horton was involved in his father’s downfall. At least, that is what he’d learned after his extensive research. Now it was time for him to confirm it.

It took Michael a moment to spot him. George was the only one who didn’t seem to notice Michael’s entrance, slumped over his table in the corner of the tavern. Michael kept his head low as he headed over to him.

He claimed the chair across from George and rapped his knuckles against the sticky surface of the table. George groggily opened his eyes, frowning against the dim lighting in the tavern.

“Ye are?” he croaked.

“The man who requested to see you,” Michael said calmly. A storm was brewing in the back of his mind, bolstered by his constant, overwhelming need for revenge. After spending nearly the entire day thinking about someone he should not be thinking about, and doing very little work, he was eager to get to the bottom of something.

George frowned deeper, pulling himself upright. He looked Michael up and down before slurring, “Ye’re not what I expected.”

“That’s odd. You are exactly what I expected.” Though he couldn’t say he expected him to be Scottish.

George only stared at him as if he couldn’t figure out if he should be offended or not. At last, he said, “I’ve been waiting a long time for you. You should catch up.”

He shoved his half-drunken tankard ale towards Michael. Michael didn’t pay it a glance.

“I asked for us to meet at ten o’clock. I cannot be blamed if you decided to start drinking by eight.”

George snorted what must have been a laugh. “Fair enough. I cannae doubt that I have been drinkin’ half me life away from midday. I don’t know why Morris hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

Michael felt his patience fraying at the edges as he fought to maintain his composure. “Let us get to the point.”

“Just ye wait,” George interrupted, raising his hand to stop Michael from speaking. “Before you go on, there are a few thin’s I need to ask.”

“Such as?”

“Such as who ye are. Ye cannot actually expect me to answer yer questions without at least knowin’ who I’m talkin’ to.” George took a large swig of his ale. “It is bad enough ye knew how to reach me in the first place, which means someone has said something they shouldn’t.”

“You aren’t exactly the most secretive person, seeing that you spend half your days in this tavern.”

This time, there was no mistaking that the noise George made was laughter. “Ye got me there. But ye’ll tell me who ye are, won’t ye?”

Michael only stared at him. The silence seemed to be making George uncomfortable because he quickly wiped his smile away and nodded.

“All right,” he mumbled, draining his tankard. “No problem. Morris!” George banged his tankard on the table then raised it above his head at someone Michael couldn’t see. Michael didn’t take his eyes off him. He tried to hold on to the last shred of his patience as he waited for this Morris person to approach. He did so within a few seconds, commenting that George should head home after drinking this last tankard of ale, who which George replied with a colourful curse.

George took three large gulps of his ale, sighing contentedly before he went on. “Now, what were we talkin’ about?”

Michael crossed his arms. “You were about to tell me about your time working with Lord Suthenshire.”

“Ah, yes. Lord Suthenshire. I cannot say that there is much to tell ye. I only worked as his clerk for one year.”

“But that was four years ago, was it not? Right before Lord Suthenshire gained influence in the House of Lords.”

“He’s always had influence,” George said, waving a dismissive hand. “Though he made it no secret that he wished for more.”

“Did he have a plan on how to achieve that?”

“A plan?” George frowned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling in thought. “I cannot say that he did. Perhaps? He didn’t inform me of much. His steward was much closer to him. Ye would be much better off getting this sort of information from him.”

Michael would have done just that if he hadn’t found out the steward had passed away two years ago. “Surely, you must know something?”

“Do I? It was four years ago, ye know. And me memory isn’t that good.” George drummed his bony fingers on the table. “Though I’m sure it can be jogged if needs be.”

The insinuation was clear. Michael reached into the small pocket of his coat and fished out two shillings, sliding them across the table. George waited until Michael removed his hand to snatch them up.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, then took two more gulps of his ale. “What can I remember? Lord Suthenshire was an arrogant man, that was for certain. I think anyone could tell ye that. He liked to think he was better than everyone else and he surely tried to make ye think the same as well. I remember one time he asked me to meet with him and could ye believe he was tellin’ me I don’t dress well enough to be his clerk? Granted he gave me money to purchase better clothes so I wasn’t really complainin’, but it is quite impolite, don’t ye think? I thought the British only knew how to be polite. I’ve been here since I was ten-and-five years, haven’t been back to Scotland for nearly that many years, and I still haven’t met a single British man who had half the manners as me Scottish friends. But I digress…”

This was going nowhere. Michael stared at George, listening to him ramble about how pompous a man Lord Suthenshire had once been. After a while, he began to look right through him, his mind wandering.

What would Lady Elaine be like in a place like this?

He couldn’t believe he was even imagining such a thing. A lady such as herself would never set foot in such an establishment. Actually, she would never enter the London slums at all. Michael knew most—if not all—of the ladies in his life would turn their noses up in disgust. So why did he get the feeling she wouldn’t?

His gaze drifted to the only empty chair in the tavern, set against a window. He thought of her sitting there with her hands folded in her lap, her hair draped over one shoulder, her feet tucked under the chair. She would be staring at everything with wide-eyed curiosity, much like she had last night during Lord Jones’ ball. Would there be distaste in her eyes? Michael couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t think of her ever turning her nose up at anything or anyone.

Why? Why did he have such assumptions when he hardly knew her?

Michael tore his eyes away, annoyed with himself for getting distracted once more. But when he began to listen again, George was going on about the clothes he’d purchased for himself, which Lord Suthenshire had not liked, and he stopped listening again.

Time was slipping away, and this conversation was going nowhere. George Horton was the first man who didn’t hold influence amongst British nobles Michael had gotten the chance to speak to and he’d hoped the conversation would help put together a few pieces he was missing. But if George continued talking about unimportant things, then it was simply a waste of his time. He would have been much better off progressing in his quest to get closer to Lady Elaine. She would have certainly been better company. Though he supposed her afternoon must have been occupied by a potential suitor or two. A lady like her couldn’t possibly go unnoticed after her appearance at the ball last night.

A twinge of something unpleasant pricked him at the thought of another gentleman trying to gain Lady Elaine’s favour. That was his job. Even if it came at the behest of trying to tear down her family.

“...and of course, none of the other gentlemen in the meeting liked when I said that so—”

“Wait, what was that?” Michael cut in, refocusing with a frown.

George blinked. “What was what?”

“You said something about a meeting. What meeting?”

“Weren’t you listenin’? I was telling ye how Lord Suthenshire had shouted at me in a meeting with the other members of the House of Lords and I told him something they didn’t like. I said—”

“What other members?” Michael pressed. “Do you know their names?’

George frowned, slowly shaking his head. “I cannot recall, truthfully.”

“How many of them were there?”

“Two? Three?”

Michael didn’t think he could hide his frustration at the lack of clarity. “Do you know the Duke of Ryewood? Was he there?”

“The duke? I knew the duke. I heard he passed away though.” George’s eyes began to widen. “Wait, are ye—”

“Answer the question,” Michael demanded.

“Yes, yes, I knew the duke. But he wasn’t there. That man was the only noble who was ever nice to me so I made sure to learn who he was. I thought it odd that he wasn’t there though.”

Michael did as well. “Do you remember what they were meeting about?”

George shook his head again. “I can’t recall a thing. I do remember the way Lord Suthenshire tried to degrade me, however. I believe I resigned one week later. That was my final straw, ye see. And it was at a good time too because Lord Suthenshire was giving evidence for a trial a few days later and I know he intended to bury me in paperwork.”

Michael nodded stiffly, his mind whirring. He absently fished out another shilling. “I do see. Thank you for your time, Mr. Horton. Have another drink.”

“Ye don’t have to tell me twice!” Again, George was quick to snatch up the coin. “Feel free to reach out if ye ever need more information.”

Michael doubted this man had the information he was looking for, but he nodded as he stood. At least he was walking away with something. Something small, something that may not be anything at all. But it gave him renewed focus.

He exited the tavern, striding briskly toward his carriage waiting at the end of the dimly lit street. Michael made sure no one was following him before he climbed in and told the coachman to head to Belington House.

Michael barely paid attention to the trip and so was taken by surprise when they arrived. He exited the carriage, realising that it was late at night and that his uncle might have already gone to bed. That didn’t stop him from heading inside, however.

The butler admitted him and informed him that Henry was having a drink in the parlour. That was where Michael found him, sipping amber liquid by his bookshelf.

“Have you ever read Hamlet, Michael?” Henry asked him without turning.

Michael made his way to the sideboard to pour himself a glass of brandy. “You know very well that I have, uncle.”

“Then you know what I intend to say next, don’t you?”

Michael held back his sigh, joining his uncle by the bookshelf with his glass of brandy in hand. “If you intend to lecture me on the consequences of acting on one’s need for revenge, you will be wasting your breath.”

Henry finally looked at him, face softening. “That is no reason not to speak when you know you should.”

Michael couldn’t hold back his sigh this time. “That is not why I have come here. I actually wished to share a small tidbit of information I gleaned this evening.”

“Regarding your father?”

“Everything I do pertains to my father,” Michael couldn’t help but drawl. “I spoke with Lord Suthenshire’s former clerk. He did not possess much knowledge, but he did make mention of a meeting Lord Suthenshire had with a few other members of the House of Lords.”

“Did he say who those members were?”

“Unfortunately, not. I shall have to ascertain that on my own. However, he did say he resigned one week later, only a few days before Lord Suthenshire provided evidence in the trial against my father.”

“Do you believe those men were the conspirators?”

“I would wager they are. I need only ascertain their identities. The clerk mentioned that there were no more than three of them, aside from Lord Suthenshire.”

“You still possess very little information to go on.”

“But it is something!” Michael whirled away, unable to contain his restless energy any longer. “All this time, as I gathered evidence, I could not fathom why no one stood in my father’s defence. Yes, it was Lord Suthenshire who came forward with the accusation, but my father had friends in the House, did he not? Yet not a single soul thought to defend him? Lord Suthenshire was indeed influential, but no more so than my father had been, which leads me to believe that their silence was not born out of fear of him. So, why?”

Michael turned back to see his uncle looking at him with a mixture of awe and surprise. “You believe there were others involved,” he said.

Michael nodded, placing his untouched glass aside, unable to remain still any longer. “Indeed, it would answer many of my questions. And It would render everything so much clearer!”

“But the clerk did not possess any further information. And after four years, this is the first time you have received any hint that may support your suggestions. What leads you to believe you will uncover anything more?”

At that, Michael grinned. This time, the thought of the beautiful auburn-haired, green-eyed lady was more than welcome. “Pray, rest assured, Uncle,” he replied. “I know precisely how to obtain the information I seek.”