Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

T he coachman eyed Theo curiously when he gave him the address of their destination.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” he said carefully.

Theo bit the inside of his cheek. “The house of Kenneth Jenkins, Ruffian Road. You know the place.”

The coachman nodded shortly. “I do, Your Grace. I should warn you that the roads in that area are poorly maintained. A great deal of potholes and so on.”

“I can handle a little jostling.”

“It can be dangerous, too,” the coachman persisted.

Theo smiled mirthlessly. “You have your truncheon, have you not? I think, between the two of us, we can scare off any would-be robbers.”

The coachman allowed himself a narrow smile at that. “I believe so, Your Grace.”

Theo settled back in the carriage, and they lurched forward. Silence descended, broken only by the rattle of carriage wheels on the cobbles. He twisted to look back out the window, at where Stephen’s home was disappearing into the distance.

He found himself wondering whether Stephen would ever marry. Unlikely, really. Duke Blackheart was too frightening a figure for most Society ladies, and unfortunately, his reputation was very well earned.

It was hardly any of his concern. Sitting back with a sigh, Theo did his best to focus on the journey ahead of him. It wasn’t a long one, and he couldn’t decide whether he would like more time to prepare or whether that would only delay the inevitable.

Closing his eyes, he conjured up an image of Anna. She was so beautiful, so much more than he deserved.

I should have been kinder to her.

No, I should have been honest with her.

And so he would be. Not yet, though. First, there was something that must be dealt with.

The minutes ticked by, the scenery becoming gradually less genteel and more grimy. The alleyways here seemed darker and dirtier, clogged with ne’er-do-wells and men with nefarious purposes. He even spotted one or two ladies of ill repute smothering jaws and scratching at pox scars.

The carriage, naturally, attracted a good deal of attention, despite Theo having deliberately chosen the oldest one he owned. A handful of grubby children ran alongside, holding up filthy hands for coins.

Theo would have liked to have thrown them some money, but flashing one’s coin in this sort of place would only have encouraged more begging, and ultimately violence.

People, in Theo’s experience, had a great deal in common with the fish in the Amazon. The ones that, at the scent of blood, turned from fairly ordinary and non-bloodthirsty fish into raging, toothy monsters. He was sure he had read some statistic or another about a shoal of those fish being capable of stripping an elephant to the bone in so many minutes.

Or something like that.

The children fell behind, losing interest. On his way out, Theo decided, he would give them some money, then instruct the coachman to pick up the pace and leave them behind, for calmer, cleaner waters.

The coach slowed to a halt, and Theo’s stomach dropped.

“We’re here, Your Grace,” the coachman informed him. “I’ll wait.”

“Perhaps it would be better if you circled the block.”

The coachman, a man beyond middle age who’d worked for Theo for decades, pressed his lips in a thin, mulish line.

“You might come out in a hurry and need a coach at once, Your Grace. I’ll wait.”

This was a fair point. Theo smiled wryly at the coachman and climbed out. His foot immediately sank ankle-deep in a dirty puddle.

There were many such puddles on Ruffian Road. That wasn’t its real name, naturally, but most people had forgotten its real name in favor of the one it had so nicely earned for itself. Piles of rotting rubbish sat in the corners, and the streets were strewn with grime, dirt, and filthy water. A skinny dog picked its way between the rubbish piles, and there was definite movement in a nearby dark alley. To complete the picture, a wild cat yowled somewhere.

The house in front of him was surprisingly sturdy, better maintained than the other wrecks on the street. Withdrawing his steel-topped cane, Theo jammed his hat on his head and approached the door.

The bell looked half-rotten, as if the rope would give way in his hand, so he used his cane to knock sharply at the door.

There were mumblings from inside, and the door was yanked open to reveal a broad, greasy-looking woman of indeterminate age.

“What are you banging on my door for?” she snapped. “Only painted last week, that was.”

Some of the outrage left her face when she looked at Theo properly, taking in his well-cut coat and silk waistcoat.

“Oh,” she mumbled, flashing a yellow smile. “You’re a gentleman. Beg pardon, Sir.”

He forced himself to smile in return. “Not at all, Madam. You are the landlady, I presume?”

“That I am, Sir, that I am. Not looking for a room, are you?”

He allowed himself a small, genuine smile at that. “No. I am looking for Mr. Kenneth Jenkins. He boards here, yes?”

The landlady chewed on one fleshy lip. “He does, but he’s funny about who comes up to visit him. Truth be told, it’s generally ladies who come to see him.”

Oh, I’m sure it is.

Theo was ready for this. He withdrew a handful of coins from his pocket, letting them sit in his gloved palm. “Can you not make an exception?”

She beamed.

The narrow stairs creaked alarmingly under their weight. Theo automatically moved to put his hand on the railings to steady himself, but he managed to catch himself every time. The railings were clearly never cleaned or dusted.

“He should be up by now,” the landlady added, twisting to look back over her shoulder. “If he doesn’t answer the door, don’t fret. I’ve got a spare key.”

Theo tried not to think about the horror of having a landlady who could be bribed to let strangers into one’s home. The last thing he wanted to feel for this man was sympathy.

They reached a second-floor landing, angry voices drifting out from beneath a door. The landlady led him to a door right in the corner and hammered on it with a meaty knuckle.

“Open up! Gentleman here to see you.”

Theo was spared the humiliation of having the landlady unlock the door for him. The door jerked open, revealing a tall, thin, pale gentleman in a dirty housecoat and slippers, his hair uncombed, his beard sticking out awkwardly from his chin.

Recognition flashed across his face at once. He leaned on the doorframe, giving Theo a long, slow look. “Oh,” he said shortly. “It’s you.”

The landlady was practically vibrating with excitement. “Who’s this gent to you?”

Kenneth Jenkins did not look at her. “None of your beeswax, Mrs. G. Come on in, then, Your Grace .”

Theo had a brief view of the landlady’s horrified face upon hearing Kenneth address him by his title, before he stepped inside and the door was closed behind them.

The apartment was more or less what he’d expected. Decently sized but not large by any means, untidy and dirty. The floor was thick with dust, save for a few trodden paths. A single fireplace was clogged with ashes spreading out over the carpet in front of it, and a threadbare armchair was angled towards the dark grate.

Clothes, books, bottles, and empty glasses were strewn everywhere, on the furniture, on the floor, lined on the mantelpiece and so on. A half-open door revealed a bedroom, even more untidy than the main room.

Kenneth threw himself into the armchair, gesturing for Theo to take a hard-backed seat. “Sit.”

“No, thank you,” Theo responded. He hadn’t been offered tea, but he wouldn’t have accepted anyway. “Tell me, is this where my wife came when you and she were lovers?”

Kenneth flinched. “What, are you here to dig up all that old nonsense?”

“I shall take that as a yes.”

Theo wandered over to the window, peering out through cobwebby window-panes at the street below. His carriage was still there, the coachman glaring down at a pack of youths who were gathering nearby. They exchanged glances, thought better of it, and scuttled away down the street.

“I’m afraid,” Theo said, turning to face Kenneth again, “that I am here precisely to dig up all that old nonsense. You and I have to have a proper talk. I was not pleased to see you at the opera.”

Kenneth scoffed. “Can’t a man visit the opera?”

“You deliberately sought me out. Me and my new wife. Why did you do that?”

“You needn’t worry.” Kenneth scowled. “She isn’t as pretty as your first one.”

Theo crossed the room in a flash, fisting his hand in the other man’s robe, hauling him out of his chair. “How dare you speak about her this way,” he breathed.

“Stop, stop, it was just a joke!” Kenneth bleated. “She’s very pretty. Very pretty!”

Theo shoved him back. “You have no idea why I’m angry, do you? I would have been amused if I were not so angry. I thought we had a deal, you and I. My money, your silence. We agreed, too, that I would not see you again. That…” He paused, drawing in a breath. “That Katherine would not see you again.”

There was a long pause. The blank look on Kenneth’s face filled Theo with such rage that his vision blurred just for a moment.

“Your. Daughter,” he ground out, his teeth clenched.

Kenneth shifted his weight. “Oh,” he sighed. “Can’t blame me for forgetting. Are we sure she isn’t yours, after all?”

Theo rubbed a hand over his face. “It would be impossible for her to be my child. But let me be clear. She is my daughter. Mine. I have raised her, worked to keep her safe, loved her. I will not have you trying to worm your way into her life, destroying her reputation in the process.”

Kenneth pouted. “And I told you that I would stay away. Why should I care about the chit?”

Theo stared down at him, realizing in a rush that his trip here had been for naught. “You only want more money, don’t you?”

Kenneth shifted. “A little more wouldn’t hurt. The money you gave me before is all gone.”

Theo drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I will give you a sum of money. There will be no more after that, and if you try to ask for more, I’ll have you locked up for extortion. You know I can do that.”

Kenneth brightened at the prospect of money. “Yes, yes, I’ll stay away.”

“Stay away from us altogether, do you hear? You destroyed my family, and I have no wish to see you ever again.”

Theo whipped out a handful of paper notes from his breast pocket, before tossing them carelessly at Kenneth. The man snatched at them greedily, his lips moving as he counted. Theo turned to leave, but he paused when Kenneth spoke again.

“The girl was an unfortunate consequence, I’ll admit,” Kenneth was saying, his eyes fixed on the notes. “But really, you shouldn’t blame me for ruining your family. If it hadn’t been me, your wife would have found somebody else. It wasn’t as if she were in love with you and I lured her away.”

Theo’s fists tightened.

I wish he wasn’t right.

Turning back, he stared at Kenneth until the man glanced up nervously, meeting his eyes.

“Do you even remember her name?” he murmured softly. “Do you ever think about her even for a minute? Did you ever care for her?”

Kenneth blinked, licking his lips nervously. “Which? The mother or the daughter?”

Crack .

Theo’s fist swung out, catching Kenneth neatly on the jaw. The man went flying back, ending up sprawled in front of the hearth, one elbow propped on the seat of his armchair. He blinked up at Theo, dazed, and a thin line of blood tricked down from his nostril to his upper lip.

“What did you do that for?” he bleated.

Theo leaned over him, feeling a vicious sort of satisfaction as the man flinched. “You told someone. You told someone about Kitty. I read it in a bloody scandal sheet.”

Kenneth winced. “I didn’t! I didn’t tell the scandal sheets. There was a man who visited me and left me a bit of money, and he asked some questions… I don’t remember what, exactly. He kept giving me brandy. He asked a great deal about you. I might have dropped a few hints, but I didn’t mean to, I swear it! I won’t do it again, I promise!”

Theo took in the fear and guilt on Kenneth’s face and decided that he believed him. After this, Kenneth really wouldn’t breathe a word, drunk or not.

And if he does… well, that’s a problem for another day.

Theo leaned further forward, coming almost nose-to-nose with Kenneth, who shied away.

“Perhaps it’s just as well that you clearly can’t remember the name of my daughter. Understanding the weight of a name is more than you deserve. Take your money and stay away. The day we meet again, I’ll hurt you worse than this. Understood?”

“Understood,” Kenneth muttered sulkily, wiping the back of his hand across his nose.

Theo straightened up, smoothing down his waistcoat, and walked out of the boarding house just as quickly as was respectable.

Dukes didn’t run, after all.

He threw himself into the carriage, after having forgotten about the puddle and stepping in it with his dry foot.

“All dealt with, Your Grace?” the coachman said, his tone carefully neutral.

“Yes, yes, all dealt with. Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“Home,” Theo said, his voice cracking. “I want to go home.”

Theo kicked off his sodden shoes at the door and ran upstairs in his stockinged feet. He knew he looked terrible, but that didn’t seem to matter so very much at the moment.

“Anna!” he called, hurrying down the corridor towards her room. “Anna, where are you? We must talk.”

Where would she be at this time of day? Timmins had been awfully cagey about it, but Theo was simmering with energy and hadn’t waited to hear what the butler had to say.

Shouldering open the door to Anna’s room, Theo burst inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting to find. Anna, face down on her bed, in tears over his harsh words that morning, ready for him to comfort her?

Instead, he was confronted with her neat room, her bed made impeccably.

There was a small, folded piece of paper on the coverlet. He took it, a feeling of dread building up in his chest.

Theo,

I have to go. I am sure you understand. If there is a son, I will bring him to you.

Anna.

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat.

What have I done? Did I think that I could say whatever I liked to her and she would always be ready to forgive me? Did I think she had an endless well of forgiveness, that she was a toy I could set carelessly aside and go back to when I wanted to play with it again? Have I learned nothing?

“Papa?”

A small voice from behind him made him jump. He turned, shoving the note into his pocket.

Kitty blinked up at him, her little face unusually set and serious. “Anna’s gone, Papa. She packed up some of her things. Not all of them, but her favorites. She doesn’t like the fancy dresses.”

“I see.”

“She said that she was going home. Will she be gone forever, Papa?”

“Forever is a long time,” Theo heard himself say. “Longer than any of us can imagine, you know.”

Kitty nodded slowly, absorbing this. “I didn’t want Anna to go. I like her very much, Papa.”

“Yes. Yes, I… I like her too.”

The words were getting stuck in Theo’s throat. He glanced over Kitty’s head into the hallway, in hopes of seeing Martha or perhaps Mrs. Haunt, so he could ask them what was going on and why they had let his wife walk out of their house with her things.

What would you have preferred? Should they have locked her up in the attic to await your return? Is she not a free woman?

He closed his eyes, pressing his forefinger against the spot in the middle of his forehead, where a headache clamored for his attention.

When he opened his eyes, Kitty was staring up at him, her large eyes red-rimmed and wet with tears. In a rush, he realized that she was seconds away from bursting into noisy sobs.

Theo had crossed the room before he knew what he was doing, knelt down, and held open his arms. Kitty threw herself at him, wrapping her small arms around his shoulders, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“I want Anna back,” she said, her voice muffled.

“I know, darling. And your papa will go fetch her, I promise.”

“But… but what if she doesn’t want to come back?”

Theo pulled back, sitting on his heels, and wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks. “We can’t force people to do things they don’t want to,” he said carefully. “That’s something you’ll learn as you get older. But one thing you must know is that Anna loves you very much. She loves you, and I am sure that is something she’ll think about when I go to fetch her.”

Kitty sniffled. “And you, Papa?”

“Hm?”

“Does Anna love you, too?”

Theo blinked. “I… I’m not sure about that right now, dearest.”

Kitty nodded slowly, seeming to accept this annoying truth. “I like hugs, Papa.”

He bit back a smile at this sudden change of subject. “Then perhaps I should hug you more often.”

“You are very tall, you see. You shall have to bend down or kneel down, like you’re doing now.”

“I’m sure we can manage between the two of us.”

Kitty nodded again, looking almost sheepish. “And I… I don’t like chess, Papa. Anna said that I should tell you I didn’t like it, and that you would understand because I am very small.”

Theo bit his lip. “Yes, perhaps playing chess with a child of your age was a bad idea. You see, I liked chess when I was your age, but not every child is the same, are they? You might enjoy it more when you get older.”

“Maybe,” Kitty said, but she did not seem convinced.

“When I come home,” Theo said, taking one of his daughter’s small hands, “you and I will talk about some of the things you like to do, and we’ll do those things together. What do you say?”

Kitty brightened. “I should like that. I like watching the stars, Papa.”

“Astronomy?”

“Exactly!”

“Well, I shall tell you more about it later. For now, I have to go, darling, alright?”

Kitty nodded, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Rising to his feet, Theo felt oddly drained, as if he could tumble into bed and sleep for hours.

He could do no such thing, of course. He had work to do, starting with finding out where Anna had gone. He had a rough idea, of course. For Anna, home could only mean one place.

A figure appeared in the doorway, smooth and ghost-like as her name.

“Her Grace left you a note, I believe,” Mrs. Haunt said, her hands folded in front of her and her face impassive.

Theo dropped his gaze. “You must think me a great fool.”

Mrs. Haunt’s expression softened. “I think no such thing, Your Grace. However, I do think that you should go to her.”

“Do you think it’s too late?”

Mrs. Haunt bit her lip. “There’s only one way to find out, Your Grace. I took the liberty of calling the carriage for you.”

He had to smile at that.

“You are worth your weight in gold, Mrs. Haunt.”