Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

P eter was walking Xander whilst Patience was drinking her cup of coffee alone the next morning. She was reliving the kiss she'd shared with Ashley when Armstrong announced Lord and Lady Rotham.

"Armstrong, if his lordship is awake, can you let him know that Lord and Lady Rotham have arrived?"

"I have already done so, miss." He bowed and left, no doubt to set the servants to work.

Patience barely had time to glance at the clock before Hope and Rotham walked in. She stood up to embrace her sister.

"Welcome. Did you travel all night?"

Rotham scoffed. "Might as well have."

"Where is Sylvester?"

"He was still asleep, so our nurse took him to the nursery. How is Faith?"

"Doing well when I looked in on her and Benjamin last night."

"I am so pleased it is a boy so he and Sylvester can be best of friends," Hope said with a fond, tired smile. Motherhood looked well on her.

"Is no one else about?" Rotham asked as they took seats at the table and the footmen began to bring in food.

"We had a rather late night. Carew arrived with some horses after dark." Patience did not want to be the one to mention that Stuart and the soldiers were here investigating a dangerous crime. She would let someone else broach that topic. Rothman tended to be a bit temperamental when it came to his wife and child's safety.

"So everyone is here then?" Hope asked.

"It seems so."

She smiled. "I have missed all of you. We were considering removing to London for part of the Season to be closer, then leaving for the Continent after Christmas."

"May I go with you?"

"Of course, if you are not needed here."

Patience waved her hand in the air. "There are more than enough hands to hold the baby should they be required."

Rotham smirked at her remark.

"I never was much of a country girl," she conceded.

Apparently, Armstrong had awakened the entire household. Westwood, Stuart, Montford, the Cunningham siblings, and her sisters, with the exception of Faith, all came into the room within minutes of each other.

There was a lively reunion as the sisters embraced, the men shook hands, and they immediately divided with the gentlemen on one end of the table and the ladies on the other. It was a much different breakfast than Patience had experienced in some time.

They remained where they were chatting long after they finished eating. It was hard for Patience not to steal glances towards the end of the table, but she desperately wanted to speak with Stuart and find out what else had happened last night. What else had she missed? If there had been shots fired, she thought she would have heard them this close.

None of the other soldiers were there, and she knew they were hidden somewhere on the estate, but she didn't know where that would be.

The nursemaid entered with a little bundle. "Her ladyship thought you might want to show the little master off." She handed the baby to his proud father. But Westwood was quickly relieved of his son by his doting Aunt Hope.

"Shall we remove to the drawing room where we can be more comfortable?" she asked.

Everyone took turns with the sleeping baby. Even Patience held him for a while, noting he did look much better today, sleeping like a cherubic angel.

Then the two aunts came down earlier than usual, so either they had heard the commotion or someone alerted them. With two babies to dote upon, all of the ladies appeared to be in heaven. Why did Patience feel the need to escape? When it was her own child, she would feel differently, would she not?

Perhaps she could use Xander as an excuse to escape. Usually, Peter would have returned him by now. She stood and walked over to the window and frowned when she saw a carriage rolling up the drive. Who could that be? It was certainly too early for calling on anyone. As it drew near, she recognized the black brougham, and while it was not Rupert, his family was just as bad. Especially now. Why would they be calling before noon?

Armstrong soon walked in to speak with Westwood. "A very distraught Lady Fagge and Sir Horace are here, my lord. Under the circumstances, I was not certain what to do. I placed them in the red drawing room."

"What circumstances? No one calls at this hour," Rotham asked, making no pretence about listening.

"There was an unfortunate event yesterday involving their son. As magistrate, I'm afraid I must deal with it. They have likely come to claim their son. Please excuse me."

"I will join you," Major Stuart said, and Patience bristled that she could not follow and listen.

After they left the room, Rotham turned towards those at that end of the room. "Would anyone care to enlighten me?"

Cunningham and Montford looked at each other. "We do not know many of the details. Ash and some of the soldiers were moving a prisoner to London yesterday when they were set upon by a gang. Sir Horace's son, Rupert, was shot and killed."

"You have Sir Horace Fagge's son in your icehouse?" Rotham asked, clearly none too pleased about what was happening here. "A prisoner. Here."

"I don't understand it myself," Cunningham admitted, which surprised none of his friends.

"But the prisoner is gone now. The danger is past," Montford reassured Rotham, and Patience realized perhaps the others did not know they had all returned. That it was a ruse. She would hardly be the one to inform them. No one expected her to know anything.

Lady Fagge began wailing loud enough that conversation amongst them was impossible.

"Oh, dear. Agatha never did cry gracefully," Aunt Rosemary said with a grimace.

"That is not crying, it is an assault on the ears," Rotham retorted.

The babies began to stir at the noise, so Hope and Grace ushered them back upstairs.

The others looked as though they'd rather be anywhere but there and made their escapes as well. Patience decided she was glad she was not in the room with Lady Fagge after all, but waited to see if anything came of the visit.

The woman wept for twenty more minutes. It was another ten minutes before she finally heard the door open and their being shown to the door.

Once assured that they were gone, Patience hurried out into the entrance hall, full of curiosity.

"That is the worst part of being magistrate," Westwood said, looking done for. "I will let you update Renforth. I am going to check on Faith."

Once the others were gone, Patience sensed that Ashley was afraid to be alone with her. If he was regretting their kiss, she would not let it bother her. Lady Halbury had always told them kisses meant nothing to men other than a way to lure women into sin. Well, she could see why his kisses would tempt, but she would not lose her head over it.

She narrowed her gaze and he must have sensed he was about to get a dressing down. "Come walk with me."

"Where are we going?"

"I must report to the colonel. Fetch Xander and we can pretend we are walking him."

Technically, they would be walking him, but she would not split hairs.

"What happened?" she asked once they were out of doors and far enough away from the house.

"Besides Lady Fagge erupting into histrionics?"

"She did just lose her son," Patience felt the need to point out.

"I would have understood yesterday, but why first thing this morning?" He waved the question away as if there was no good answer. There really wasn't.

"She demanded to have the body released to her, and Dom explained why it must remain here until the inquest. So naturally, she began demanding the inquest to be held tomorrow." They found Xander with Peter near the barn, and the pup bounced over to her and began to walk with them.

"Did Sir Horace say anything?"

"Very little. He still seemed shocked, like his tongue had been frozen in place."

"Some people deal with grief that way. Grace did not speak for weeks after our parents died. Were you able to question them at all?"

He shook his head. "You really are not a typical female."

"Would you like me to be?" Disbelief laced her words.

"Absolutely not."

"Now that's sorted, were you able to discover anything?"

"I asked Sir Horace if he noticed anyone else besides the gang during the shooting, but he barely shook his head no. Then Westwood asked where Rupert's rooms are and if he had any particular friends."

"I could've told you that. He has only two. Layton and Beckett."

"Did you not feel the need to impart this information to me?"

"I suppose I could have last night, but he only told me yesterday morning. It did not seem as important after that."

"Fair enough. Did he mention any particular club he favours in Town?"

She squinted in the distance, trying to recall. "I cannot think that he mentioned a club."

"Searching his rooms and finding that out will be in my next order of business."

"You will be removing to London, then?"

"It appears that way. I will see what the colonel says."

She smiled. "I may well see you there then."

He stopped immediately and turned to face her. "Do not be ridiculous. You cannot follow me to London and go searching gentlemen's clubs and apartments!"

"I am not following you. I had already made plans to return there with Hope."

He looked as though he wished to argue with her, but then his gaze turned darker. What did that mean?

"I must go, Patience. Remain vigilant."

Renforth agreed that a trip to London was in order, but he wanted Manners to go with him instead of Fielding. There were times that Fielding's background hindered him, and exclusive gentlemen's clubs was one of them.

He went to inform Westwood where he was going, but found the others in the study.

Carew had joined them, and was regaling them with a story about his trip over from Ireland.

Ashley went to the desk and wrote a quick note to his brother, choosing to do that rather than disturb his brother's time with Faith and the baby.

"What is this about a prisoner, Stuart?" Rotham demanded.

Ashley did not particularly want to rehash the entire scenario, but then again, Rotham or even Carew might have insight.

He sunk down into the chair behind the desk and explained about the stolen arms. "So, if either of you know anything about Rupert or his friends Layton and Beckett or any other avenues we can explore, I'd be much obliged. I feel like I'm heading to London looking for a needle in a haystack."

"If I were looking, I would begin at Inferno."

All brows raised and glanced at Carew. He raised his shoulder in a careless Gaelic manner, even though he was Irish. "I might have seen him there from time to time."

Carew was the biggest rogue of Westwood's friends, but Ashley did not think that behaviour was from anything more than boredom. Whatever the reason, Ashley could use the help. The shipment was scheduled for two days hence and they needed the brains behind the operation, not the hired hands.

"I am beginning to see a pattern here. Devil, 666 symbols, inferno, gaming hells…"

"The three of them play deep. Fagge may have looked like a fool, but he had a keen mind for cards. I played him once or twice and he always gave me a run for it."

This didn't surprise Ashley overly much. A time or two, he wondered if Rupert had been playing a part to some extent. He didn't think all of it was feigned, but it was easier to manipulate people if they had no expectations of you.

"Perhaps I should take you with me tonight."

"I could be persuaded," Carew drawled. "You need to go with a member, and as it happens, I still belong though I haven't been there in months."

"How soon could you be ready? Time is of the essence."

"Let me change into riding gear and pack a bag."

"I'll send for the horses."

After he'd given the message to Armstrong, he returned to the study to wait for Carew.

"You know, Stuart, I've been thinking about what you said. Besides money, who would have the most to gain by stealing arms?" Rotham asked.

"My first inclination is always going to be the French. Although we have been at relative peace for a while."

"Precisely. I just remembered who happens to have a French mother."

Ashley looked blankly.

"Beckett. Rupert's other bosom beau."

Rotham meant that literally. Beckett was a well-known pink of the ton , similar to Rupert but stylish.

"At least it bears looking into. Even if we are not currently at war with the French, there is still enough hatred for the sympathizers to want to strip our army and its allies of the ability to fight. Moreover, his father is a pompous Whig."

"An unforgivable sin."

"We will likely be in London soon, but should you need help of any sort, send for me," Rotham offered. "Westwood has his mind on other things, and I'd be glad to fill in for him where I may."

"I appreciate that." Ashley shook his hand before stepping outside to join Carew. They stopped off to collect Manners, then rode hard and fast, which suited Ashley's mood. It gave him time to try to sort things out in his mind. There was little doubt with Rupert being killed that they were close enough for the murderer to be uncomfortable. Now they just had to hone in and find proof.

"Let us stop off to speak with my father," Manners said as they reached the outskirts of Mayfair before they would turn to their home.

"Lead the way," Ashley agreed. Anything that would help, he welcomed.

"Good afternoon, Major, sirs," the butler greeted Manners as they entered.

"Is my father in?"

"He's in his study."

"Very good. I know the way."

"I will have some sandwiches sent in for you."

Manners indicated for Ashley and Carew to follow as they climbed a set of curving marble steps and entered a room lined with oak panels and leather filled bookshelves.

"This is an unexpected surprise," Lord Upton said, taking off his glasses and rising from behind his desk to come around and greet his son and friends. "Please have a seat. I know Havers will bring something in shortly. Now, tell me what brings you here."

"We've come to see if we can discover some information about Layton and Beckett. Rupert Fagge was shot in the back yesterday when the gang set out upon our prisoner's caravan to Newgate."

"So it was deliberate."

"Yes, my lord. There is no way from where Rupert was that it could have been otherwise," Ashley explained. "He was almost directly beside me."

"And no one saw anything?"

"I was on the opposite side of the carriage," Manners said. "Stuart would've had the best vantage point, but it was quite a chaotic gunfight until everyone ran out of balls. The smoke was thick and he would have been an easy mark."

Lord Upton was thoughtful for a moment. "It means you are too close to the culprit for his comfort. At least it seems you are on the right path. What do you hope to find here?"

"More motive, more evidence."

"Carew here has seen Fagge with his friends at Inferno. We intend to do a bit of investigating there tonight and hope we uncover more." With the recent close of Watier's exclusive gaming club, men were finding other outlets for their habit.

"Rupert Fagge at Inferno?" From the look on his face, it was clear that his lordship did not approve of the place. "I suppose it can't be helped. It is a dangerous place. Wise of you to take Carew here along. They would pluck the two of you bare within the hour."

"Your confidence in our abilities is astonishing, Father."

"It is not your abilities that concern me, but the lack of scruples of these men. Tell them, Carew."

"'Tis true. It is not if they cheat, but how they evade detection. It's a game of wits, you could say."

"One that often leads to ruinous consequences, which is likely where the motive for stealing and murder lies," Upton said on a heavy sigh as if he answered his own question as to the validity of their going. "Report to me here when you are done."

"Yes, Father."

"Now, eat and avail yourself of whatever you need for the evening. Chambers will be prepared for you."

Once they'd had full stomachs, they were shown to their own chambers to wash and dress for their evening out. The plan was to go to a few clubs for the latest gossip before ending the evening at the gaming hell.

They did not bother with White's or Brooks's. Neither Layton nor Beckett would have been the hunting ground for the young pinks as Rupert was.

"I do not know if I have the stomach for Boodle's," Carew drawled. "I might sit this one out." He inclined his head to an Irish pub across the street.

"We will find you after."

As it happened, the two they sought were there, both names listed on the registry, and Ashley and Manners quickly bowed out, not wanting to be discovered. They returned to Carew, who'd just received his first pint. They sat and ordered one for themselves and then made sure they could see the door to the club.

"They were inside," Manners said by way of explanation.

Carew nodded, not needing or requiring explanation. "I suspect it will be another hour or so before they head over."

"At least the ale is good here," Ashley remarked.

"Do you really expect it is one of these two you're looking into?"

"We have to make the connection to Fagge. We have little else to go on besides Layton being the son of one of the five men with access to the classified information."

"Then are you not putting yourselves at risk by being seen tonight?"

"Would it be that obvious for us to be seen?" Ashley asked.

"Inferno is not that big of a place. I am more likely to discover something without you there. I think whoever shot Mr. Fagge knows exactly who you are."

Ashley exchanged glances with Manners, who inclined his head. "It is a fair point and my brother trusts you implicitly."

"What, exactly, is it you want me to discover?"

"Well, Rupert had mentioned a scheme that made him rich. Perhaps exploring that angle might be of benefit."

Carew nodded. "If I have an opening. The best way is to make them indebted to me. I stayed away because it was all too easy to fleece these young, wild bucks from their family fortunes. But tonight, I can do it without any guilt."

"If nothing else, more information about Layton and Beckett."

He finished off his pint and stood. "I will see what I can do. I think it best if I'm there first."

They watched him sneak away into the night, unused to being the ones left waiting.

"I hope this is the right decision."

"What other choice do we have besides risking our necks?"

"Let us hope he knows what he's doing."