CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

As the appointed hour approached, carriages began to converge on Colin’s club. The guests started to gather in the private room that had been set aside for the occasion, the air thick with curiosity and expectation.

Colin stood silently at the head of the room beside the wall, not wishing to address them all just yet and simply watching the men assemble. The low hum of voices filled the air, and Colin tried to tamp down the fear that burned hot in his chest as Lord Wentworth arrived.

I pray that Charlotte will forgive me for what I must do.

Lord Wentworth’s body was tight with tension, his eyes darting about the room uncertainly, glancing at several others and nodding to them in greeting. Colin was not ignorant of the trouble this meeting was about to set in motion, but he would not back down.

As more and more men began to arrive, Colin watched for one in particular who he was anticipating above all others. Eventually, arriving last into the room, Lord Kilby entered. His usual smile was firmly in place, but it failed to hide the fear in his eyes. He, too, nodded to a few of his acquaintances, but as he began to register the faces in the room, Colin could see the sweat pouring down his face. Everyone here was linked to him—for all Colin knew, he might be blackmailing them all.

Kilby kept his bland expression in place as his eyes moved through the room. For a moment, time slowed down, and Colin waited, holding his breath until Lord Kilby’s eyes connected with his own.

Their gazes locked and held, and whatever Colin had failed to mask in his own expression caused a significant change in Lord Kilby. He took an unconscious step back, his face paling even further as the door behind him was closed by a member of the club, and they were all assembled.

And finally, after months of waiting, the time has come to clear my father’s name.

As Colin walked to the centre of the room, looking out at the assembled company, someone handed Lord Kilby a glass of brandy, which he took, his hands shaking slightly.

Very good. Have all the drinks you require. You are going to need them.

“My Lords, thank you for your time attending this meeting,” he began, his voice remarkably steady for all the nerves he could feel fluttering in his chest. “I accept that this is most unprecedented and will have no doubt caused you to query the nature of why I have called you all here today.”

Colin kept his expression carefully blank, not looking at Lord Kilby at all. Many of the men were standing at the back of the room while others had taken their seats.

He continued, feeling the anger building slowly through his whole body.

“Many of the men in this room, if not all of you, will be aware of the rumours that have circulated about my father. I am here to tell you the nature of those rumours and to put the past to bed once and for all.”

“That is all very well, Your Grace. Could you not have done so in a letter? I am due in parliament?” The voice came from Lord Sterling, a rather pompous-looking man with a magnificent double chin who sat in the front row.

Colin bowed to him. “No, this could not have been achieved in any correspondence, my Lord, or I would have done so. I know how valuable your time is; however, I have reason to believe that what I am about to tell you may influence and affect others, and therefore, without further ado I will lay it out.”

He took a step forward, surveying the upturned faces of the men before him, a sense of certainty and morality running through his veins.

“My father was being blackmailed.”

There was a murmur of astonishment from everyone in the room. Colin did not look directly at him, but Lord Kilby was as still as stone at the back of the room.

“I have been investigating irregularities in his accounts for many months. I will tell you all now, that as much as I would wish to exonerate my father entirely, he is not blameless. He made some rash decisions and did not investigate what he was doing adequately.” His gaze finally fell on Lord Kilby. “He trusted the wrong people.”

Kilby swallowed convulsively, taking a large swig of his brandy, his skin white as a ghost.

“My father was persuaded, over a series of months, to invest in various schemes. The nature of these schemes were always introduced by the same third party, who handled all of the monetary side of things. As many of you know, Lord Bevins was my father’s accountant, and he is an excellent businessman and friend. Nothing about his character is being brought into question here; everything my father was involved in came from another source.

“I have been through every one of my father’s records to find out the truth, and it has been a long and laborious process. I have been astonished at the level to which my father trusted the man who was responsible for every one of these investments. But he would also become his blackmailer.”

That word was used very deliberately and with perfect timing. Many of the men at the back of the room had moved forward, their interest growing as Colin continued to reveal the truth.

“My father, as I have said, did not do his due diligence. He did not investigate the nature of what the investments were, and some of them were then revealed to be circumspect. I understand that much of the money was lost, and some, I am sorry to say, went straight to the pockets of smugglers, thieves and criminals.”

Another murmur of discontent erupted around the room.

“My father was then in a position where he had sunk a great deal of his capital into these schemes, and it was at this point, when the truth became known, this third party exposed the truth—that the schemes were suspect, even dangerous. He then told my father that if he did not pay him remuneration, he would reveal the truth and ruin him.”

The low muttering was almost a hum now; every face in the room looked utterly appalled. Blackmail was something that every man in the ton had reason to fear, and it was reviled above many other common crimes.

“My father was forced to pay a handsome sum for this man’s silence. Right up until his death.” Colin began to walk down the aisle, his gaze fixed upon Lord Kilby. “This man has no scruples, no common courtesy, no morality of any kind!” he spat. The entire room was silent and still, every eye upon him as he came level with the man responsible for it all.

“I speak of none other but Lord Percy Kilby.”

There was an astonished silence, and then every eye in the room moved to Kilby. He stood frozen to the spot, his glass held in his hand shaking violently now, sweat pouring from his forehead as she glanced about feverishly.

“What rot,” he managed at last, his voice sounding feeble and weak in the heavy atmosphere of the room. “How could you say such things? You have no evidence to speak of!”

Colin lifted a hand, and the footman at the back of the room opened the door. The crowd of men standing before it moved back to reveal a constable and several officers of the law, who walked into the room, their eyes fixed on Lord Kilby.

In the constable's hand were the copies of every document Colin had uncovered, and Kilby saw them just as the rest of the room did.

“I think,” Colin said softly, “that I have enough evidence to satisfy the strictest of judges.”

“Lord Percy Kilby,” the constable said loudly as he stepped forward, “By order of the magistrate, you are under arrest on suspicion of fraud, embezzlement, larceny, and blackmail.” He brandished the warrant for the whole room to see, and as Kilby looked around, there wasn’t a man among them who would defend him.

Lord Kilby’s mouth opened and closed mechanically for several seconds, unable to articulate a single word.

The constable gripped his arm, and Lord Kilby stared at Colin in disbelief as someone beside him plucked his glass of brandy from his fingers and the policeman led him away and out of the room.

When the door closed behind him, Colin breathed a long sigh of relief, unable to believe what he had just witnessed. There was a splintered second of silence, and then all was chaos. Dozens of men began to speak in a cacophony of noise, their voices rising and falling, many of them speaking of their shock and disgust at what Percy had done.

Colin, however, had eyes for just one man. Exhausted and drained after the altercation, there was now only one person who filled his head, and that was Lady Charlotte Wentworth.

In the madness all around them, he walked slowly through the room toward Lord Wentworth, who was the only man standing in silence in the throng. He was staring at the door which Kilby had been led through in utter shock.

“My Lord,” Colin said, raising his voice over the din. “May I have a moment of your time.”

Colin was relieved when Lord Wentworth turned to him, and his eyes seemed to hold an unspoken apology.

“Of course, your Grace, please lead the way.”

Colin moved to the top of the room, through the aisle in the centre of the chairs, and to the far corner where the noise was a little lessened. All the same, he was stopped many times on the journey by those who wished to ask him questions or congratulate him. It took him a full five minutes to secure the private interview, and even then, it was hardly as private as he would have wished it to be.

“My Lord, there is one other revelation that you may not be aware of.”

Lord Wentworth frowned. “I am well aware the engagement is off,” he said angrily. “The audacity of the man to even think he was worthy of my daughter .”

Colin paused, a lance of pain slicing through him at that news. Lady Wentworth was engaged to Lord Kilby? He had never been happier than in that moment that he had chosen to act swiftly.

He continued on, determined to push through his own fears.

“My Lord, you and my father were acquainted, were you not?”

Lord Wentworth’s eyes sharpened as he looked at him, and his brow lowered even further.

“Yes. For our part,” he cleared his throat. “But we were not friends, you understand. An old wound never truly healed.”

Colin drew the letter from his pocket and handed it to Lord Wentworth.

“During my investigation, I found this letter in my father’s effects. It is addressed to you, but it was unfinished. I believe he wished to reconcile at the end of his life, my Lord. And although it may be within your rights to overlook it, he felt remorse for his actions in the House of Lords and regret at how you parted.”

Lord Wentworth looked at the letter, his eyes widening as he skimmed over the words before putting it in his pocket.

Colin sighed. “Perhaps if he had been able to send it, things today could have been prevented. Alas, he died before he was able to.”

Lord Wentworth’s bushy eyebrows rose, and a kindness came over his face that Colin had rarely seen.

“You have my thanks, your Grace. I... came to regret my disagreement with your father. It all seems so trivial now. I wish I had known what he was experiencing in the last few months of his life. Lord Kilby should be on trial for murder; I have no doubt his actions affected your father’s ill health.”

Colin inclined in head and then steeled himself for his final revelation.

“My Lord, there is something else I wish to discuss with you.”

Lord Wentworth’s weary eyes met his, and he raised his eyebrows. “And what is that?”

Colin paused and then threw caution to the winds. “I am in love with your daughter, my Lord.”

Lord Wentworth stared at him, his mouth slack. “With my Charlotte?”

“Yes. I have come to know her since she returned to society, and I believe no other woman is equal to her in beauty or temperament. She is a shining light when I have been in the depths of despair for a long while. I never expected to find someone who I could truly care for, but I have found it in your daughter. I know that she had been promised to Kilby—”

“Damn the man,” Lord Wentworth said venomously and shocked Colin to his core by gripping his hand more fervently. “I had no idea, your Grace; I admit it freely. I told her you had no intentions toward her. I should not have assumed anything. I confess I was blinded by Lord Kilby’s charm and his obvious affection for my daughter. Your actions today have proved you to be an intelligent and sensible man. I could not ask for anything more for her, and I know she cares for you.”

It was Colin’s turn to stare in disbelief. It was clear that Lord Wentworth was relieved by the revelation, but he had not expected such a rapid turnabout. He eyed the marquess, suspecting that there may be more at play here than he realized, but that was of no matter to him now.

All that matters is Charlotte.

He was filled with excitement at the chance to go to her and finally tell her the truth of how he felt.

Lord Wentworth’s smile was warm. “Go on then, Your Grace. I imagine she is waiting for you.”