Chapter 24

twenty-four

A NGELINE DIDN'T KNOW if she should be worried or impressed by Royston's behaviour.

He'd been adamant about leaving the house despite the fact his face was gaunt, dark circles clouded his eyes, and coughing fits overwhelmed him whenever his temper rose.

"Why are we going to see Mr. Wright?" she asked as they rode in a carriage. "I thought you would go straight to Lady Redvers."

"If the conversation with Wright goes as I hope, there will be no need for me to talk with Lady Redvers." He straightened his jacket and watched out of the carriage window. "I didn't tell you that Wright and Miss Taylor love each other. They meant to get married, but he doesn't have the money to give a viscount's daughter the type of life she's used to. Your mother pays him money secretly for errands he does for her. He brings her pouches of herbs from the market. When he told me I thought it seemed too simple. Now I understand why. She asks him to be her courier to carry medicinal herbs that are likely illegal, so she won't be seen dealing with smugglers."

Angeline pressed two fingers to her temples. "I keep learning new, horrible things about my mother. I wonder how many more secrets she keeps from me."

"If I were you, I wouldn't want to know. I don't think Miss Taylor cares about Wright's finances, but her parents would never allow her to marry a penniless, albeit famous pianist. Wright would like to move to Paris with the hope of earning more money. Artists receive better salaries in France. I'm sure he's devastated by the news that his beloved has to marry someone else."

"But how can he marry Miss Taylor now? He's penniless."

He grinned, regaining some of his colour. "He won't be penniless for long."

She put her hand over his and smiled. "I see."

The carriage stopped in Bloomsbury, in front of a closed tailor shop.

Angeline tilted her head up. The windows of the upper floors above the shop showed broken shutters, and a few glass panes had been patched with newspapers. The front door was ajar, swinging back and forth on its hinges; it nearly came off them when Royston held it open for her.

He entered the entry hallway and went up the stairs on unsteady legs. She followed him, worried he might collapse.

Rotting wooden doors lined the hallway. Pieces of wallpaper flaked from the walls, and she could swear she saw a rat hurrying away.

He knocked on the door with a plaque reading, ‘Mr. Daniel Wright.'

"Wright? It's me, Baron Wharton."

The door was flung open before Royston could knock again, which was great because the door was so thin and tattered she doubted it would survive another knock.

Mr. Wright appeared on the threshold. "You!"

"We need to talk." Royston brushed past him none too gently.

Angeline followed him inside. "Sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Wright."

The pianist lived in a room that was actually a glorified wardrobe. The single window was too small to let any sunlight in, and every time Angeline took a step, the floorboards creaked.

"How could you compromise my Georgiana?" Mr. Wright pointed a finger at Royston. "I told you we were in love. I thought you understood my struggle."

Royston shook his head. "I didn't do anything. I'm here to set the matter straight and?—"

Mr. Wright wasn't listening because he tackled Royston as a rugby player would. Royston groaned and hit the wall with his back. The fact he didn't react was a testament to his precarious condition.

"Mr. Wright, stop this instant." Angeline grabbed the man's arm before he hit Royston again and pulled him away. "Let him tell you what happened."

The musician staggered back.

She stepped between Royston and him. "You must listen to what we have to say. We're here to help you and Miss Taylor."

"Mr. Wright shook a fist. "I love her. And she loves me dearly."

"Great. Wonderful. Wish you all the best." Wincing, Royston sat down on the only chair that looked solid. "Apologies, Angeline, but I need to sit."

"Of course, darling."

"Darling?" Mr. Wright said. "How many women are you seducing?"

Royston huffed. "Angeline is my wife-to-be. Now, if you let me talk without yelling or attacking me, I'll explain everything."

As Royston told him about Mama's drugs and then Lady Redvers's scheme, Angeline tried to find a chair that didn't have holes or was rotten. A talented pianist like Mr. Wright should be able to live decently. Never mind marrying a viscount's daughter.

"Good Lord." Mr. Wright put a hand on the table with mismatched legs after Royston finished. The piece of furniture shook, about to collapse. "Poor Georgiana. She must be distraught."

"Excuse me?" Angeline balled her fists. "I'd say poor Lord Wharton. He was drugged, accused of something he hadn't done, forced to be betrothed to a woman he doesn't love, lay three days unconscious in bed and almost died."

Royston gave her a light shake of his head.

Mr. Wright frowned "What do you want from me?"

"Simple. I'll give you enough money to live well in Paris and marry the woman you love," Royston said. "We'll buy a special license and passage to Paris. Now pack your things. You and Miss Taylor will be happy in France, and Lady Redvers's scheme will come to naught. Most importantly, each one of us will marry the person we love. I'll give you enough to start a new life and… " He waved a hand. "Whatever else you need. You have my word."

Mr. Wright narrowed his gaze. "Will you give me enough to make a viscount's daughter happy?"

Royston shrugged. "Making Miss Taylor happy is your duty. I'll merely finance your wedding and help you with expenses until you get established as a musician."

"I can't repay you," Mr. Wright said.

"I don't want anything from you." Royston held Angeline's hand. "I'll marry the woman I love. That's more than enough."

Mr. Wright smiled so widely she could see his uvula. "My lord, do not fear. I'll make sure Georgiana and I leave London as soon as possible. But I want to return the favour."

"No favour needed. We'll be happy to hear you play at the Opera de Paris ," Royston said.

She disagreed. Mr. Wright had attacked Royston. "I want to hear what Mr. Wright has to offer."

"I offer information." Mr. Wright raked a hand through his dishevelled hair. "As you know, I've been invited throughout the Season to play at balls and dinner parties. They paid me nothing, let me tell you. Many compliments, but little money. During one of these events, I happened to have heard a conversation between Lord Havisham and Mr. North while I was taking my break. Lord Havisham informed Mr. North of your… er, past, about your mother's death, my lord. They then made a plan to perform a little public scene, where the earl pretended to want to stop Mr. North from spilling the story of your past. North promised Lord Havisham to continue to spread rumours about you, my lord."

Angeline turned towards Royston, but he didn't seem surprised.

"Why would Lord Havisham do that?" she asked.

"I wouldn't know, miss. Mr. North seemed eager to help, though."

"Of course he was." Royston rubbed his forehead.

"It wasn't Mama," she whispered. At least Mama hadn't lied about that.

"Well, Wright." Royston winced when he stood up. "We both have a busy day ahead of us, and I need to go to the bank. I'll meet you back here soon."

She wrapped an arm around his waist to help him up.

Mr. Wright held the door open. "Will you let me play at your wedding as a thank you?"

Angeline softened. "Thank you. That would be lovely."

Her wedding was going to happen after all.

After the visit to Wright, the bank, and Wright again, Royston needed rest. For days, he'd slept, eaten, and done nothing else as if he were an infant.

He hadn't had the strength or desire to read the newspapers. If a scandal had started because Miss Taylor and Wright had eloped, he had no idea.

Officially, he was recovering from a bad case of ‘brain fever,' and no one had bothered him.

Angeline entered his bedroom, carrying a newspaper.

"It's done." She dropped onto the bed next to him and opened The Standard . " The scandal of the week sees a Mr. W. and a Miss T. involved in eloping. Mr. W with Lord W. were seen at Doctors Common, one assumes to purchase a special license ."

"Good." He stroked her knuckles.

"There's more." She resumed reading. " Miss T. was at the centre of another scandal last week when she was caught in the middle of an assignation with Lord W . That's you, darling. Lord W. and Miss T. were engaged as a result, but it's obvious now that marriage will never happen. Mr. W. must have had a stroke of luck because rumour is he's suddenly an incredibly wealthy man ." She folded the newspaper. "Congratulations. You're no longer going to get married."

"Uh-uh. Correction." He put the newspaper aside. "I'm going to get married to you." He pulled her down for a kiss.

"Will the scandal affect your candidature at the House of Lords?"

His mood darkened as he toyed with the annoyingly small buttons of her shirt. "I haven't thought about that, to be honest. I'd like to talk to Lord Redvers, but I assume he doesn't want to see me."

"You don't seem distraught."

"I'm upset. Do not doubt. But almost losing you put things into perspective. I want the seat, but I'm glad to be alive and be your husband-to-be." He grinned when he unbuttoned the first little bugger.

She swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't been with you in a while."

"What are you talking about? We've been together day and night."

"Yes, but I was unconscious, sick, or both. I need you, especially since visions of you in that damn nightgown torment me."

She stopped his wandering again. "It was a hallucination."

"But a very good one although the reality is better." He kissed her again.

"No, you need to recover first. A tumble can wait."

"I need you."

"Please, concentrate." She gave him a quick, depressing peck on his lips. "Miss Taylor, no, Mrs. Wright might not be a problem anymore, but the earl still is. Unless we stop Lord Havisham, he'll keep trying to ruin you for some reason."

"Yes, but not now." He barely started kissing a delicious spot on her neck when a knock came.

"My lord?" Enright said from the other side of the door.

"One moment." He had to release his grip on Angeline.

She stood up and sat on the armchair.

"Come in." Royston sat up.

Enright came with a silver mail tray. "It arrived a moment ago. The footman who delivered it said it was urgent."

"Thank you, Enright." Royston opened the letter.

Angeline sat next to him again when Enright left. "Who's it from?"

"Lord Redvers."

As damn usual. Bad news, bad news, and more bad news.

"What does he say?" Angeline prompted him.

"Lord Redvers has withdrawn his support. I no longer have a champion for the House seat." While disappointed, he forced himself to remember he was alive and well and that he was going to marry Angeline.

"It's because of the scandal, isn't it?"

"Actually, no. Lord Redvers wrote that, before eloping, Georgiana had a chat with him and told him what Lady Redvers had done. It seems that Lord Redvers was reluctant about withdrawing his support, even despite the scandal because he'd given his word and because he wasn't happy about what his wife had done to me, but Lord Havisham convinced him not to help me." He exhaled and leant back on the pillow. Another kick in the teeth. "So I lost Lord Redvers, and Havisham is still causing trouble. Great."

"I'm so sorry." Angeline caressed his cheek. "That man is awful."

"And the worst thing is that I don't know why he is doing this." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "When I was his footman, he'd always treated me well. When I became a baron, he supported me. We never argued about anything. Our disagreements started recently when he asked me to break into your house."

"He also lied about my mother and made up the lie about that list. And let's not forget Police Constable Davis. Lord Havisham must have held a grudge against you for a while."

"But why? I don't understand." He pulled her closer to hug her, needing her comfort.

She rested her head on his chest.

The tender moment was cut off by Enright's booming voice coming from the corridor.

"Madam, I must protest," Enright said.

"Please do protest as much as you like." Mrs. Haywood's voice rang out. "I'm sure it'll be very entertaining. The butler doth protest too much, methinks ." She laughed.

Footsteps pounded.

"Mama." Angeline straightened.

Royston sat upright. "What now?"

Mrs. Haywood shoved the door open and hurried into the room, followed by a red-faced Enright.

"Darling, Lord Wharton." Mrs. Haywood curtsied.

"My lord, I'm sorry." Breathless, Enright put a hand on his side. "Mrs. Haywood rushed up the stairs before I could stop her."

"Less sherry and Yorkshire pudding is my advice," Mrs. Haywood said. "It wouldn't harm it if you stopped smoking as well."

"Mama!" Angeline said as Royston said, "Thank you, Enright."

"I'm so happy to see you, sweetheart." Mrs. Haywood tried to kiss Angeline's cheek, but Angeline didn't let her.

"Mama, please. What are you doing here?"

Mrs. Haywood was hurt if the sudden tightening of her lips was any sign. "First, I wanted to apologise in person to the baron."

Royston glanced at Angeline. He didn't want to cause more disagreement between Angeline and her mother. Despite the fact he was still upset about what Mrs. Haywood had done to him, he gave her a nod. Now, please leave .

"I want to make amends," Mrs. Haywood said.

"Please, no." Angeline exhaled.

Mrs. Haywood ignored her, making herself comfortable on the edge of the bed. "I'm aware that Lord Redvers withdrew his support of Lord Wharton on the Parliament seat because of Havisham's intrusion."

How did she know that? Royston had just received the letter.

"Yes, and?" Angeline asked.

"Well." Mrs. Haywood jutted out her chin. "Here's what I'd do if I were you. Invite Havisham here for an honest chat. If he refuses to stop blocking Lord Wharton, I'll spill what I know about him to his ducal wife."

"Blackmailing? Again?" Angeline's fierce expression made her look like a warrior. "Haven't you caused enough trouble?"

Mrs. Haywood held up a hand. "I won't say anything. My mere presence here will scare Havisham. He's a coward, trust me. He'll panic and do whatever you ask. I won't need to talk at all."

Not the best of plans, but it was worth a try.

Royston scratched his chin. "I like the idea of having an honest conversation with Havisham. No tricks or lies. Just honesty."

Mrs. Haywood's smile sent a chill down his back. "Excellent. Let me arrange the meeting."