Chapter 6

“Bring the Earl of Henrough a cup of tea, please, Bartleby,” Arthur told his butler.

“Never mind the tea.” Taylor Badington, Earl of Henrough, distant cousin and close friend to Arthur, waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s make it something stronger. Have you any scotch?”

“Of course.” It was quite early in the day for scotch, Arthur thought—but then, Taylor lived a very different sort of life. He’d likely been out all night, consorting with the various gangs of London. Arthur often had to remind himself that his friend never took part in anything illegal because he did seem as though he might. Arthur was perfectly aware that Taylor did know plenty of criminals.

In fact, he counted upon it.

Taylor’s connections were going to help him achieve his goals. Taylor was the one, Arthur was sure, who would be able to gather the information Arthur had so long sought—he would be able to find out who was responsible for the deaths of Arthur’s parents. And as soon as Arthur knew the identity of his parents’ killer, he would get his revenge.

That was what his whole life had been about so far—discovering the identity of the person who had ended his parents’ lives. That was the reason he never had time for balls. That was the reason he hadn’t put any effort, until now, into the idea of finding a wife for himself—until one had been delivered into his lap. He would certainly accept Miss Isabella if she was interested. It would be good to have that area of his life attended to without having to do any work on his own to manage it. It would be a weight off his shoulders.

He knew there were people in society who asked questions about him. He knew he was the subject of their curiosity and gossip. Honestly, being talked about like that made it more difficult to conduct the investigations that were at the very center of his life. He wanted to blend in, not to stand out. Perhaps doing something normal and expected like taking a wife would help him in that regard. He couldn’t be sure, but it was worth the effort.

“Scotch, then,” he told Bartleby, and the butler nodded and withdrew to get their drinks.

“So!” Taylor slapped his knees with both hands and beamed at Arthur. “You’re getting married! I must confess, I never saw it coming for you. You’ve had such a one-track mind for the entire time you and I have known one another. I’ve never seen you have your head turned by a lady. This one must be very special indeed.”

“She’s pretty,” Arthur said absently.

“Merely pretty?”

“I’ve only met her once,” Arthur pointed out.

In truth, he thought her captivating—but he wouldn’t have known how to describe the way she made him feel. A painting of her wouldn’t have done her justice. It was something about the sparkle in her eye when she was on the verge of insulting him and the set of her jaw when she spoke of her determination to help her sister. But how could he have explained these things to Taylor?

“I still can’t believe you chose not to have a traditional courtship. I would have thought…” Taylor trailed off. “Well, that isn’t true. I wouldn’t have expected you to want to go through a courtship. That would have been most unlike you, now that I come to think about it. And yet, to see you entering into a marriage so suddenly is also unexpected. If the young lady is merely pretty, if you’ve only met her once and so can’t possibly be in love…what made you do it?”

“These things have to be done in a gentleman’s life,” Arthur said. “People already notice me, Taylor. People say things about me. They wonder about the sort of man I am—they call me eccentric and reclusive. If I do something normal—if I marry—people will stop talking about me. And that will afford me more freedom in this investigation. Having too many eyes on me has prevented me from discovering the answers to the mysteries that have plagued me all my life. This will solve that problem.”

“And that’s why you’ve decided to get married?” Taylor asked, shaking his head. “It’s all because you think it will get you closer to finding the killer you’ve sought for so long?”

“That’s the reason behind everything I do, and it always has been,” Arthur told his friend. “You’ve known me long enough that I would think you would know that, Taylor. What other motivation should I have?”

“Well, I would think,” Taylor said, accepting the glass of scotch that Bartleby now passed him, “that a gentleman such as yourself—handsome, wealthy, and a duke to boot—might take an interest in marriage because it would be pleasurable. Haven’t you thought of all the good things that are apt to come of it? You’ll be able to start a family—you’ll have heirs, perhaps, someone to take over the dukedom after your time.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“But how can you not care about it?” Taylor’s voice grew slightly gentler. He was usually nothing but laughter and mirth, but on this topic, he knew to tread carefully. “Don’t you think it’s what your mother and father would have wanted for you?”

“I’ll never know what they would have wanted,” Arthur said rather sharply. “Because of how young I was when they died, we never spoke of it, and I’ll never have the chance to ask them. So, all I can do is my best.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” Taylor agreed. “I do hope you manage to find the joy in your marriage, though. As your friend, I’d like that for you.”

Arthur found he wasn’t enjoying the direction the conversation was going. “You came here to tell me about your investigation,” he pointed out. “That’s what I’d like to discuss. How are things going in your search for the people who killed my parents?”

“Well, I’ve been asking around,” Taylor said.

“You always say that. You always tell me that you’ve been asking around.”

“It’s the truth,” Taylor replied. “What would you like me to say? Shall I make something up?”

“I just wish you had real answers for me sometimes. It seems you only ever come to me with more questions, and I don’t know what to make of it. What have you been asking? Who have you been asking? And what answers do you think they’re going to give you? Tell me what we’re waiting for, Taylor.”

Taylor leaned across the table, setting down his glass of scotch. His normally jovial face had become very serious.

“You ask me to help you with this because you know I have contacts you don’t,” he reminded Arthur. “You come to me for help because I know the kind of people you want to talk to. I know the people who have the answers to these questions. Don’t get angry with me because I haven’t found what we’re looking for yet. You should be grateful to me for looking at all!”

Arthur sighed. “You’re right. I know you’re right. Forgive me. It’s difficult, that’s all. This is the one goal I have in my life, and every day I don’t accomplish it feels like a day wasted. Another day that I haven’t been able to honor my parents properly—another day they don’t rest peacefully.”

“What happened to them isn’t your fault,” Taylor reminded him.

“Perhaps not. But what happens now is a burden I’ll carry until I’ve had my revenge.”

“Oh, try to think of something happy for once,” Taylor urged him. “I know it’s difficult for you to do. But you are going to be married. There’s going to be a wedding. I can hardly wait to meet your bride. Tell me what she’s like.”

“I’ve told you already—I hardly know her,” Arthur said. “We met one time. I don’t know much about her at all.”

“But you must have gotten an impression of her at least,” Taylor pressed. “Tell me that. Is she charming? Witty? Does she delight you and make you laugh?”

“Well…no, she wasn’t any of those things.”

“What did she say when you came to her father’s house and announced that you wanted to marry her? I’m sure she was surprised, having told that lie about your engagement only the night before.”

“I’d say she was shocked,” Arthur said dryly, remembering the expression on her face.

“But she must have been pleased, right?” Taylor pressed. “She couldn’t have thought that making up such a silly story would result in a real engagement. It must have thrilled her when you told her that you were willing to marry her in spite of such an unconventional beginning.”

“Actually, she refused me,” Arthur said. It wasn’t something he intended to tell very many people about. It was rather humiliating to have been received that way. He didn’t mind at all that Miss Isabella was the daughter of a maid, but he did know what people would say if they heard that a maid’s daughter thought herself too good for him, and he didn’t care to hear that sort of gossip.

Taylor’s eyes widened. “She refused? But how could she refuse? Did she want someone else?”

“She didn’t say why. She only told me that she had never intended for her lie to become a reality.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t very charming or witty,” Taylor said. “Not what I expected, I must say. And yet you decided you’d go ahead and marry her anyway, even after she spoke to you like that?”

Arthur nodded slowly. He understood what Taylor was saying, of course. It was surprising enough that he would choose to marry a lady he hardly knew, a lady who was the daughter of a maid, a lady who’d only come to his attention by telling lies about him. Most people would have dealt with her very differently. And then, for him to have gone to her home only to be met with a rejection—it was difficult for anyone to make sense of it, he supposed. It didn’t make sense. Why would he choose to pursue a marriage to someone who had treated him like that?

“She intrigued me,” he said after a moment. “Her father was right there, and even so, she refused me.”

“What did her father say?”

“Oh, he had no idea what to make of any of it,” Arthur said. “I think he was hoping I would take his other daughter, Miss Rosalind, but I’ve no interest in her.”

“No, you want the one who made up a lie about you and was rude to you.” Taylor laughed. “You never seem to change.”

“It’s like I said—I found her intriguing. I’ve never known a lady quite like her. She means the things she says. Most ladies are so determined to be charming that they’ll just say anything, but this one—well, I can trust her. I can take her at her word. That’s worth something to me, Taylor. She may be a handful, but at least she isn’t deceptive.”

“She started out by lying about you!”

“But I understand her reasons for doing it,” Arthur pointed out. “She’s trying to provide a future for her sister. I think…I think that life has been unfair to her, just as it was to me. I can relate to that. Her life isn’t about fulfilling selfish desires, the way the lives of so many seem to be. She has a mission, and so do I. I think we’re the same in that way, and I think that similarity will help us to understand each other and to make our lives together a bit easier than they might have been otherwise. She won’t expect grand romantic gestures. She wants my help providing a future for her sister. I can give her that, and I appreciate the honesty when she’s dealing with me. At least I know I’m not being misled. Miss Isabella might be willing to tell a lie to get what she wants, but if she can get it by honest means, then she will. And that makes her someone I can trust—someone I can trust enough to work with if nothing else.”