Chapter 15

Michael knew that the first people he needed to speak to were the parents of Philip's wife. It had been easy to track them down as his first call had been to the gallery where Philip had exhibited.

As he walked into the space, his curiosity had him strolling along the displays, looking for anything that Philip had painted. When approached by a man, he smiled. "You have some impressive works here."

"We pride ourselves on only showing the best. Are you looking for something in particular?" There was a touch of disdain in his voice, as if he knew that Michael could never afford any of the works. As there were no prices attached to the paintings, Michael was certain that he would not be able to.

"My employer is interested in sourcing some new works, but he does not wish to have anything to do with one particular artist."

"Oh? Whose works does he dislike? I am sure we could guide him to something from a different artist."

"It is a Philip Wilson? Have you heard of him?" Michael was all innocence but watching for the slightest of reactions, and he was rewarded with an immediate look of disgust.

"Your employer has good taste. If you would like to move away from the door." The man moved towards the back of the gallery, which amused Michael as there was no one else inside and no sign of anyone showing any interest in stepping in.

"Has he no talent?"

"Actually, he has a little," the man responded reluctantly. "It is his cheating ways I have a problem with."

"Oh?"

"He is all charm when he first meets someone who could be useful to him. We only exhibited his work because his wife's family paid for the privilege after he had exhibited at another gallery. I am sure they thought it would be the step to success. That has been the case with other artists we have shown. But for him? No! He was not happy with having such a prestigious space to exhibit; he would become aggressive with customers if they did not swallow his flummery or flatter and fawn over him enough."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, many people, like your employer, send out someone to do the groundwork before they venture anywhere themselves. He would bully the employees into committing to bringing their masters into the gallery. It got to the point that we were in danger of losing our good reputation, and I had to call a halt to it."

"I can imagine that did not go well."

"Not at all. He stamped and screamed like a spoiled child, tearing his paintings off the wall. He caused a large amount of damage, and only because his wife's parents paid us to repair it prevented us from calling in Bow Street. Behaviour like that is unacceptable, especially of a man purporting to be a gentleman. Pah! He was as much a gentleman as the man sweeping the muck from the roads."

"Was this before or after his wife died?"

"Died? Has she died?"

"I believe so. You have heard nothing about it?"

"I cut all ties with him. Poor woman was probably willing to die to escape him. He was not a good husband."

Michael felt his back stiffen at what his wife must have suffered. That could have so easily been Arabella. He felt sick at the thought that it still could be Arabella if what the innkeeper said was true.

"Do you know his wife's parents' address?"

"Now, why would you want to know that if you are sourcing paintings for your employer?" There was nothing but curiosity in the man's tone, something that Michael was grateful for. This gallery owner had been open with him, and Michael owed him the same courtesy.

"My employer has got a dislike for him," he said with a smile. "But it has more to do with the fact that a relation seems to be falling under the same spell as his wife did."

"I pity the chit. I do have the address; I sent the bills for the repairs there. Just give me one moment."

Disappearing into the back room, the owner soon returned. "Here you are. I do not expect that they will have much good to say about him. I only saw them all together a few times, and I got the distinct impression that they disliked him."

"I can understand that. Thank you for this, I appreciate it."

"You are welcome. If it means that someone else is prevented from suffering his temper tantrums, then I am happy to help."

Michael left the gallery and, taking a hackney, crossed to Cadogan Place. The houses were fine, overlooking a park, a very well-to-do area. A substantial amount of money was needed to live in one of these houses.

Hopping out of the hackney, he paid and sent it on its way. He stepped up the three small steps underneath the portico and knocked on the door.

The footman had him wait in a beautiful side room with a tiled floor and marble fireplace. The table and vase in the centre of the room probably cost more than he earned in ten years, he mused. It was no wonder that Philip chose this family to fund his lavish lifestyle, although no prize could have been better than securing Arabella in Michael's biased mind.

After waiting for ten minutes, he was eventually led to the drawing room on the first floor. The large window overlooked the park, a perfect setting for a pretty room where wealth was on display but not in an ostentatious way.

"Mr Follett, my footman has informed me that you wish to speak about that reprobate Wilson, who we have had the unfortunate pleasure of calling our son-in-law these last few years."

"Yes, sir, if you do not mind?" Michael said, shaking the outstretched hand and liking the man immediately.

"If I can voice some of the animosity I feel against that cheating mongrel, then I am more than happy to do so. Mr MacFadden, at your service, what does Mr Betez wish to know?"

"I appreciate your candour," Michael started. "Firstly, I would like to offer my condolences."

"On letting him into the family? I accept them with gratitude. If my foolish daughter had not let herself be compromised, we would never have agreed to the match, no matter how much she wailed and cried about how wonderful he was. She was a blasted fool over him and still is."

Michael paused. He had been thinking that Mr MacFadden did not appear to be a father grieving about his daughter, but then his last words had sent Michael reeling. "You say still is?"

"Yes, she would have him back in an instant, the young fool. Excuses all the ways he has misused her, thinks her mother and I are blind to how he treated her. I know without doubt that she would abandon us for him if she thought we would keep funding him, but he went too far, and we have finally put our foot down. It is him or us, and if she chooses him, we keep the children, and she gets no funds."

"She is not dead?" The words were perhaps not the most sensitive, but Michael could not get his thoughts in order.

"Dead? Of course she is not dead! What nonsense is this?"

"He is telling everyone that he is a widow."

"What?" Mr MacFadden jumped from his chair, sending it crashing into the table beside it, scattering a glass and yelling at a footman who rushed into the room. "Nothing to worry about! Leave us be!"

Michael liked Mr MacFadden, but he could only imagine the arguments he must have had with Philip. This was a man who was forceful and would not have held back at the actions of his son-in-law. It was probably a good thing Philip was out of London, given the murderous look in Mr MacFadden's eyes.

Picking up his chair and table but leaving the glass, Mr MacFadden sat down, face puce with anger. "There is only one reason that cur is going around telling everyone such lies, and that is to obtain money. I never thought he could sink lower than deserting his wife and children, having run up a huge amount of debt, but it seems I have underestimated him. Again."

"He has returned to pick up from where he left off with another young woman, trying to reignite the affection they once shared," Michael said grimly.

"Has he had a liaison with her while he was married to my daughter? I will kill him if he has!"

"No, he had made plans with her before he married. He chose your daughter over her and rejected the young woman who did not have access to her fortune at that time."

"The girl who appeared at his very first opening night?" Mr MacFadden said, clearly remembering. "Beautiful chit she was. I could not believe that he was choosing my Daisy over her, and believe me when I say that I am a doting father, Mr Follett."

"It seemed that her family had let it slip that she was not to inherit until she reached thirty."

"That is an unusual state of affairs and one he would not have liked."

"No, it seems he did not, and he altered his course as a result."

"To be honest, I felt a bit sorry for the chit. She was clearly besotted, but so was my daughter, and although I knew he was no good, I supported my girl. It is the biggest regret of my life."

"I can only imagine what you have gone through as parents having to stand by and watch what was happening."

Mr MacFadden seemed to shrivel in front of Michael's eyes, the anger seeped out of the older man. Rubbing a hand over his face, he grimaced at Michael. "I have never felt so helpless as seeing her hurt time and again and knowing that her only sin was to have given her heart to a scoundrel. I had to turn away from the bruises that she had or the swollen eyes through crying at his verbal torture of her. When he deserted her, I was relieved. What kind of a man is happy when his daughter is desolate because the love of her life has run away?"

"A decent one and a good father, I would argue," Michael said gently.

"It does not feel that way most of the time, I can tell you. If he marries this chit you are representing, he is breaking the law. We could have him arrested."

"I would rather not have him marry her in the first place." The thought of Philip and Arabella consummating their illegal marriage made him feel physically sick, and the way Mr MacFadden looked at him, he was sure that he had gone green.

"If it meant that it got him out of both of their lives, then surely that would be a good thing?"

"I can understand your reasoning, but I do not think Mr Betez would share your sentiments. Or his niece, to be fair to her." Michael hoped he was speaking the truth about Arabella, but he could not be sure.

"I am willing to accompany you to confront him. It would give me pleasure to wipe the smile off his face, knowing that his secret is out."

"That is a decision Mr Betez should make, not I," Michael said. He did not want Arabella to be humiliated in front of a stranger. He did not want her to be humiliated at all, but from what he had discovered today, he knew that was inevitable, and his heart ached that she would suffer yet again at Philip's hands. He could strangle the man and hoped he got the chance to at least draw his cork.