Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

MR. MARTIN LEARNS A LESSON

" C ome in, Mr. Martin, come in," the duke said, when Lewis appeared at his door. "As you might imagine, I should like to know how the events of this afternoon went down."

"Yes, Your Grace. As you heard my man say, my ward removed his bandages binding his ribs, got dressed, and went to his contacts to discover the whereabouts of Mr. Suthers. I do not know whether to punish or praise the boy." He shook his head as he ran a hand through his wavy blond hair.

The duke laughed. "It is often that way with children. Especially when they think they are doing good. I remember when my son as a child rescued a puppy from a swiftly flowing stream." The duke shook his head. "He tossed the puppy onto the shore, then grabbed hold of a fallen tree before he was swept down to the river. My heart was in my throat as I saw all this from a distance. I didn't know if I would reach him in time. He thought it a jolly fun heroic adventure!"

Lewis laughed with him. "Rather goes with the stories he writes," he said, though his eyes darted to the fireplace and the painting above. It was at an odd angle for him to see properly from where he sat.

"Yes, it does," the duke agreed. "I see you looking up at the painting of Gwinnie's mother and me." The duke rose from behind his desk and walked toward it.

Lewis rose as well and followed the duke.

"Lady Guinevere said there was something I should see in this painting."

The duke laughed lightly. "Yes, I believe I know what it was." He turned toward Lewis. "I hope you understand what a fortunate man you are, Lewis," the duke said, patting Lewis on the back.

Lewis started at the duke calling him by his given name, but kept his face blank. He looked closer at the painting. He believed he recognized the location where the painting was done as in the Versely Park gardens. He smiled as he remembered the area. Then his eyes caught something else. At first, he thought it a painter's trick of light atop the duke's hat, then he realized what Gwinnie referred to. A smile spread across his face. "Thank you, Your Grace," he said. "If you will excuse me?"

"Yes, but do come back at sometime today, I have another letter for you to review," the duke said with a laugh.

Lewis only half heard the last of what the duke said. He ran out of the room, down the stairs and pushed open the Lady Margaret Parlor doors without knocking.

The dowager duchess sat in the room with Gwinnie.

"Are you sure?" he asked from the doorway, ignoring the duchess.

Gwinnie rolled her eyes, then clapped a hand on her head to prevent the fresh compress Rose provided from falling off. Her grandmother looked down into her fresh cup of tea and compressed her lips in a pursed smile.

"Yes. And I've decided I want a courtship as your debt for not following my humor after your promise."

"A courtship," he said, coming into the room, walking like a stalking beast toward her.

"How exciting," the duchess said.

Lewis pulled a confused and delighted Gwinnie to her feet.

"Oh? What are you about?" she asked, thrilled, until he bent forward and hefted her over his shoulder, the compress falling to the floor. His arms wrapped around the backs of her thighs. "Lewis! What are you doing? Stop!"

The duchess giggled as she pulled the shawl free from Gwinnie and tossed it back on the sofa. "Be careful, Mr. Martin," the duchess trilled.

"Lewis," he corrected her.

"Thank you, Lewis!" The duchess beamed at him as she made sure the door was open wide and nothing was in Lewis's path.

"Lewis, you are going to hurt yourself!" protested Gwinnie. "I'm too tall! I'm too heavy!"

Lewis ignored her. He climbed the grand staircase with his precious treasure over his shoulder. He only nodded at the duke when His Grace opened his library door to see what was going on. The duke's lips quirked into a smile. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, and Lewis began to climb the second flight of stairs.

"Father! Make him put me down," Gwinnie called out to her father. "This is the most embarrassing situation. Not fit for a duke's daughter."

Her father shrugged as Lewis continued up the stairs.

"Lewis," Gwinnie pleaded in a softer voice. "You will hurt yourself. You have nothing to prove to me, I swear it," she said, as he achieved the second-floor landing.

He turned toward her room and opened the door to her sitting room. "Lewis, please, I love you!" she said.

He eased her down until she stood before him, then grabbed her face between his two hands. "As I love you and have done so since the day after Ann's and Ellinbourne's betrothal ball. It tears at my soul that you were hurt and are still hurting. You cannot fathom the agony that I let you down."

"But you d—" she started to protest, but he laid a finger against her lips.

"You will never convince me otherwise," he said, as he leaned in to kiss her.

Gwinnie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close to her as she might. She gathered herself up to his kiss. Any lingering thoughts she might have harbored about the effect of their difference in heights vanished. He finally pulled back and laid his forehead against hers.

"If I kiss you anymore," he said harshly, "I will want to carry you through that door to your bedchamber, for I want more than just your lips. My body screams for all of you. I have visions of your glorious red hair spread out across the pillows as I come to you."

Gwinnie shivered and closed her eyes briefly.

"I trust this courtship you are demanding will not last long, but no matter, for I promise you for as long as the courtship will be, that is how long before I let you out of my sight, our bedroom, our bed."

Gwinnie's insides quivered and tightened in a way she had never felt before.

"Lewis," she whispered, clinging to him.

Lewis stepped away. "To bed with you now, and a nighttime draught of laudanum. I want you well and strong."

Gwinnie smiled coyly at him, but did move away from him to open the door between her bedroom and the sitting room. Rose stood in her bedroom waiting for her.

Lewis breathed in deeply, willing his heart to slow its racehorse pace, and turned to leave the sitting room and go back to the duke's library to see the latest letter threat.

Lewis sat down in front of the duke. "Am I to understand I have your approval?" he asked.

The duke smiled. "Heartily. I would say you are a perfect complement to my Gwinnie. I could only wish you could have found each other a few years ago."

"You know I was born on the wrong side of the blanket."

"Yes, and that you are Harleigh's get. He was proud of you, you know."

Lewis dipped his head. "Thank you for that."

"No need to thank me, it is the truth. We do need to get together to discuss settlements and all but not now. There are more pressing matters."

"To say nothing of the fact Gwinnie says she wants a courtship."

"A courtship!" her father barked a laugh.

"It's my penance for failing to catch one of her, ah— witticisms."

"Ock! She's playing with you," the duke said, leaning back in his chair.

Lewis's smile broadened into a grin, his eyes twinkling. "So I would assume."

The duke shook his head, then he straightened. "We do have other business to attend to. I received another letter today."

"So you said earlier."

"This one is most interesting. Either the writer is careless, or he means to incriminate someone else in the threats."

"What do you mean."

"Here's the letter. Take particular look at the outside of the letter and the various fold marks."

Lewis looked at the duke quizzically but accepted the paper from him. He read the inside quickly. It represented more of what had been received before. He turned it over. The first thing he noticed was the paper had been originally folded in half. When he turned it over, he saw the letter had been franked, but not where one would assume, at the top of the correspondence. It appeared to be at the bottom left, but someone refolded the letter forward to put the frank on the outside top right. But folded to the back from the bottom and sealed with sealing wax. To hold the front fold down to ensure the frank remained visible, a small dab of wax was applied underneath the folded part.

Lewis looked at the duke quizzically.

"I'm sure you are aware that Parliament seat holders have postage franking privileges. It is common practice— though frowned upon— to frank a few sheets of blank paper so one doesn't have to always be around when a family member wishes to send off a letter. Yes, franked letters should only be used for official mail; however, the practice of allowing friends and family to share in the privilege through pre-franked letters is common. I myself am guilty of this practice.

"And this letter bears franked postage by a Parliamentary member? A marquess, I'm guessing, by the design? Do you know whose signature this is?"

"The Marquess of Alton."

Lewis opened the letter and read it again. "The Marquess of Alton is not excited by the new inventions, but neither is he against progress, from what I've read in the papers."

The duke nodded. "I have been studying and puzzling over this letter for an hour now. The author is someone in his household."

"Someone close enough to have access to his study."

"Yes. I believe the letter author, when they grabbed a piece of paper to write upon, was unaware they grabbed a franked blank paper."

"Looking at how it was refolded, I'd venture they did not post this letter themselves but requested another do so. This other person— likely a butler or a valet— seeing the original paper had been previously franked, tried to be helpful and save a few pence by changing the folds of the letter to ensure the frank to cover postage displayed."

"My guess is my threatening letters come from Robert Alton, Earl of Wicholm, first-born and heir to Alton. He is a strong agrarian man. The only new ideas he seeks are improved crop planting and land contouring for crops. He is against new inventions, particularly those for crop planting and harvesting."

"Protecting his tenants?"

"I don't know."

"We should talk to the marquess and discover who has access to his franked stationary," Lewis said.

"As it happens, we can do that tonight. He will be at Soames Chop House near Parliament. When he is in town, he is a frequenter of the Wednesday night gathering of various members of Parliament."

"Will they let me in?"

"As you are with me and are investigating a crime against me, then no one may say against you."

"Then let's go. If I can solve two cases in one day, along with getting an agreement with Gwinnie for a courtship, this will be a most memorable day in my life!"

The duke laughed, then became serious. "I should certainly like to stop looking over my shoulder for danger to me and Gwinnie."

"As would I!"

The duke and Lewis passed through the white-washed front public rooms to the private chamber in the back of Soames Chop House. The hall leading to the private room was paneled, and the paneling so polished over the years, they looked more like black wood paneling than brown.

On the walls hung pictures of England's prime ministers for two hundred years without favoring Whig or Tory in placement.

The duke pointed at the pictures. "Soames is adamant his establishment will not become either a Whig or Tory bastion. He hopes to have Soames Chop House be common ground." The duke laughed slightly. "A noble wish; however, where loyalties run deep, emotions run high."

Lewis nodded as he looked around. Double doors were open at the end of the hall. A liveried footman in a white wig and black buckled shoes stood at the door, an attire harkening back to the previous century.

"Good evening, Jeffery. I have Mr. Lewis Martin with me this evening. Has Alton arrived yet?"

"No, Your Grace. But Your Grace—" the footman started to say.

The duke patted his shoulder. "Good man, Jeffery, good man," the duke said, walking past the footman into the room.

Lewis suppressed a smile at how easily the duke bypassed the footman who was no doubt ready to say Lewis would have to leave.

"Malmsby!" came cries from around the room. "Well met!"

The duke lifted his hand in acknowledgement to his friends. A couple came over to speak to him.

"Planning to attend the opening session this year?" one young buck asked him.

Malmsby made a face. "I would prefer not to; however, I have been persuaded that my attendance is important, though I'm not quite sure for whom," he ended forcefully. Those around him laughed. "Let me introduce you to my friend, Mr. Lewis Martin. Hope you don't mind me bringing him here. We have other events to also attend this evening, and it was easier to come to all together. Besides, he's soon to be my son-in-law," he proclaimed.

Lewis smiled at the men who gathered around to wish him well, though he was surprised that the duke would make that announcement here. Nothing was finalized yet. Nothing sent to the papers.

"You look familiar," one man said. "You related to the Harleighs?"

"Yes," Lewis said.

Another man turned around and called across the room. "Harleigh, there is a relative of yours here that's going to marry Lady Guinevere, if that don't beat all. You holding out on us and not sharing that news?"

Harleigh got up from where he was sitting and walked toward Lewis. "News to me, too, Ralston," he said.

Lewis had felt every muscle in his body tense when he realized Harleigh was here. He kept his face still as stone until Harleigh put his hand out. The action startled Lewis, but he felt relief flow through his body. He took his brother's hand in his.

"Thank you for what you did for me Sunday night," he said. "Cordelia told me everything."

Lewis smiled a genuine smile, one that reached his blue eyes, crinkling them at the corners. "Isn't that what relatives do?" he asked playfully.

"Demme, Harleigh," said another gentleman around them, "if that smile don't look like the late earl's," shaking his head.

Lewis's smile dimmed. He didn't want to get Harleigh into an uncomfortable situation.

"Mr. Martin," the duke said from his side, "Alton has arrived."

Lewis nodded. "I have to go. Give my best to your wife, Harleigh."

"I will. And Lewis, go see Scruthers. Rosevale is yours ," his half-brother said, stressing ‘yours . '

Lewis would have liked to stay and question Harleigh as to what he meant, but their quarry was present. He nodded to Harleigh and followed the duke back toward the entry to the room.

"Alton, a moment please," the duke said to the Marquess of Alton.

"What is it Malmsby? And who is this with you?"

The duke gently took the elbow of the marquess and steered him out of the room. "This is Mr. Lewis Martin. He is a Bow Street agent working with me to discover who is threatening my family."

"Bow Street!" Alton said loudly.

From in the room, several men turned to look at them. The duke led the marquess farther away from the private meeting room.

"And what do you mean, threatening a duke of the realm?"

"I've been getting threatening letters, letters that threaten harm to myself and my daughter, Lady Guinevere. The Dowager Countess of Norwalk has received similar letters."

Alton frowned. "What has this to do with me?"

The duke's lips compressed into a thin line. "The most recent letter I received— just his morning— had your frank on it."

"What? That's impossible." He pulled himself free of Malmsby's clasp.

"Here, my lord," Lewis said deferentially. "This is what the duke received. If we have misinterpreted this, please let us know."

"I most certainly will!" growled the marquess. "I thought we were friends, Malmsby."

"We are, and that is how I know you did not write this letter. But that looks like your frank to me. Are you in the habit like most of us are of franking multiple blank sheets of paper at once to save time later?"

"Yes, I do that. They are in my desk drawer," he said, "and no one goes in my study save for me, my valet, and Richard, my heir."

Lewis watched the marquess closely as he examined the letter. Read it first then turned it over to see the frank. His face drained of color.

"That is my frank," Alton said softly. He shook his head, then looked up at the duke. "You will not receive any further communications of this sort on either plain paper or my franked stationery. That I can promise you," he said, with anger rising in his voice.

"My lord, there needs to be some sort of reparations made to the duke and Lady Norwalk," Lewis said to the marquess. "Need I remind you it is a crime against the king to threaten the life of a peer of the realm. The duke has had to hire guards for protection. Lady Norwalk left town to safeguard her family."

"You are correct, Mr. Martin." Alton's lips worked back and forth as he considered what to say.

"I have a suggestion. Richard will—" Malmsby began.

"So you know who did this."

"We had our suspicions, and your younger son is a member of Lady Norwalk's Gentleman's Trade Club, so we thought that ruled him out," the duke said.

Alton's brow furrowed. "I knew he had joined some business club but not which one."

Malmsby nodded. "He often comes with me to lectures and seminars on new inventions. His particular interest has been what might help agriculture without harming tenant farmers and freeholders."

"I see. I didn't know."

"I suggest for the next two months your heir attend the lectures and seminars on farm innovation, and write a document for Lady Norwalk advising her on what innovation she might want to invest in and have the Gentlemen's Trade members learn. I am certain there will be at least one that can see its benefit. This must be a convincing document like one might write for Parliament," the duke suggested.

The Marquess of Alton looked thoughtful for a moment, then he smiled. "I like that idea. I have been against new machines because I don't have the time to investigate them and learn all of them to make an educated decision. This document you propose my technology-phobic son write is the type of documents we need, especially if written by previous naysayers."

"Such is my thought. How do you want to present this to your son? I do want Mr. Martin to be part of the discussion as he has been part of our investigation to see where the letters came from, we took them that seriously. Lord Wicholm needs to understand these letters are not larks."

"I agree. What if we come together to Malmsby House tomorrow, about 11 a.m.?"

The duke looked at Lewis.

"That will work for me," Lewis said, immediately thinking of the time he could spend with Gwinnie as he started his courtship activities.