Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

A s soon as the horses had moved a sufficient distance down the road, Worthe opined, “Pretty girl, but zounds, what a gossip!”

“You heard her, did you?”

“We could hear she was rattling away while we walked, although the specifics were not too loud.”

“Thankfully!” Oakley exhaled with relief. “I daresay she had a story about every person we passed!”

Scarlett opened her mouth, no doubt wishing to do as she customarily did and put a bright face on things. After considering it, she closed it again, then said, “She did have quite a lot to say, I only think it exceedingly odd that she would speak so freely to a potential suitor.”

“Perhaps she was having a bout of nerves,” Worthe suggested.

“Or perhaps she simply could not help herself.” Oakley adjusted his position on the bench so that he could look out the window. “Some people need gossip the way other people need fresh air or water to drink. But she is surely not the only lady I have ever known who enjoys some tattle now and again.”

“Only the most enthusiastic,” Worthe said. “I declare I never heard someone rattle away like that.”

“I am sorry,” Scarlett said. “She seemed so wonderfully good-humoured when I met her. So cheerful!”

“It was not all bad. The tales she told me were related with such spirit, it did make me laugh, more than once.”

“But did you like her?” Scarlett pressed. “I thought she would be so ideal for you, and such a pretty little creature.”

“She was very pretty; I shall grant you that. But ideal?” Oakley frowned. “I think I must give up on my ideal and look for well-enough instead.”

“Why do you say so?” Scarlett asked.

“The difficulty with finding someone ideal for me is that there can only be one ideal lady for me and I am afraid I have already found her. Anyone else is a poor substitute, and all I can see are their flaws,” he concluded glumly, the truth of his words sinking upon his shoulders.

Scarlett and Worthe exchanged looks. Worthe said, “Quite a change, Oakley. I am more accustomed to seeing you fall in love with anyone and everyone.”

“And now I cannot even like anyone much less fall in love with them.”

“You disliked her?” Scarlett asked.

Oakley ran a hand across his mouth. “No, I did not dislike her,” he said finally. “I really do not know. All I know is that it was not love at first sight, not by any stretch.”

There was a brief silence during which Oakley turned his face, ostensibly studying the passing scenes on the street. Everywhere he looked he saw people who were coupled off, seemingly happily joined. Why must it be so much different for him?

“Perhaps if you saw her again it would be better,” Scarlett suggested. “Or have you no wish to call on her?”

“I had not thought of that yet.” Oakley pondered it for a moment. In the absence of Bess, was a lady like Lady Emma worthy of pursuit? “Indeed, with the exception of all her gossiping she was…charming. Amusing. And yet…”

“Yet, what?”

“She is likely one of those who spread tales of us, yes?”

“Everybody has been talking of the Richmonds,” Worthe said. “And it is true, Lady Emma was likely a part of it. But your family has provided the ton with more fodder for gossip than even Lord Byron. If we require a woman who has never uttered a word about the Richmonds, we will need to go looking in Italy or Spain perhaps.”

“An American, maybe.” Oakley snorted a little laugh. “But my greater concern is that she spoke of Damian.”

“The jewellery thing?” Worthe asked and Oakley nodded.

There was a short silence while those in the carriage considered that.

“It would be wise to inform Lord Tipton of that,” Worthe opined finally. “Much as I hate to alarm him.”

“He is already worried,” Oakley assured him. “Knowing it spread beyond the gaol and into the ton will be more worry, to be sure, but he would wish to know.”

“I agree, though I only hope it does not bring him pain,” Scarlett said worriedly. “I know he must wish all this Damian nonsense could just be set aside.”

Oakley agreed. “I shall speak to him of it as soon as I am home.”

“Let us all go to Tipton House together,” Scarlett suggested. “But Oakley, pray do not so easily dismiss Lady Emma. Call on her at least once before you decide.”

Oakley promised that he would.

As soon as they were at Tipton House, Oakley went to Lord Tipton in his study. Worthe offered to go along, but Oakley waved him off. No sense making it seem like a tribunal.

His lordship’s rheumatism had worsened slightly in the last days due to a succession of rain. It kept him indoors when Oakley knew he would much rather be on horseback or walking to his club. He was seated in a chair by the window, book open in his lap, merely staring out as Oakley entered.

“Father,” Oakley said by way of greeting. He had not given up the names by which he had known Lord and Lady Tipton for most of his life, despite the ton now knowing they were his aunt and uncle. They had raised him as their son, and he would forever call them Mother and Father, even if his sisters referred to them as Aunt and Uncle. It made for some strange conversational stumbles at times, but if they did not concern themselves over it then neither would he.

“My boy!” Lord Tipton smiled up at him fondly from his favourite reading chair. “Sit with me.”

Oakley sat on the sofa opposite his lordship, crossing his legs and accepting the offer of port. It was generally enjoyable for him to be in this mahogany-panelled room with its overstuffed sofas. He inhaled deeply of its scents of tobacco smoked long ago and of decades-old books.

“You have an uncharacteristically long face,” Tipton remarked after a short discussion of the card party Oakley had attended the night prior. “Is there something troubling you?”

“I am not certain.” Oakley swirled the drink in his glass. “I just met a young lady whom Scarlett and Worthe wished to forward to me. Lady Emma Lovejoy. Pretty girl but full of gossip.”

“All ladies gossip,” said Lord Tipton warmly. “Do not be put off by that.”

“In any case, it might be no more than tattle but…she mentioned to me the tales being spread that Damian was involved in a jewel thieves ring.”

His lordship frowned pensively. “Just as Lady Lenora had heard. I wish I could dismiss it, but I fear I cannot. What did Lady Emma say about it?”

“That he was part of the theft at Rundell, Bridge and Rundell…was that in ’17?”

His lordship’s brows raised and he uttered a low, short whistle. “Yes, I do believe that was when it happened. And the ton believes Damian had a hand in it?”

“Evidently some do. I suppose it cannot matter, not with Damian most assuredly dead,” Oakley said, as much to console himself as Lord Tipton.

“If he was a party to that business, he was not alone,” Lord Tipton mused, his eyes on the ceiling. “There were several, at least three of them from what I heard, and I do not believe they ever recovered what was taken.”

“The report I heard was that what was stolen was worth twenty-two thousand pounds. What must he have done with it all? One cannot simply pass these things about.”

“I really cannot say,” Lord Tipton replied. “Sold them, clearly, but how?”

“Unschooled as I am in the finer points of theft and what one does with the spoils, I daresay some smuggling must take place, get the pieces out of the country to somewhere they might be safely sold.”

There was a short silence while they both considered that. “Do you think it is possible he was involved in that?” Oakley asked finally.

“If it were merely stealing a necklace here and there, I would say no, he would not involve himself in so paltry a thing. But at such amounts as this? Yes, I daresay my brother would involve himself in it.” He drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “I must make some enquiries into this.”

“He is dead and surely all his misdeeds must have gone with him?”

“I would much rather learn the truth now than have yet another secret lurking about waiting to bloom into scandal for us.” Lord Tipton made a sound that was halfway between a huff of disgust and a dark chuckle. “If he had the plunder—money, or jewels, possibly both—secreted away somewhere, then at some point, someone he knew might come to retrieve it. Even if they only believe he had them somewhere, well…danger might arise. We would do best to find out what it was before we were caught up in it.”

Oakley nodded. “What will you do? Hire someone?”

“It is a place to begin,” said Lord Tipton thoughtfully.

Oakley waited a moment, watching as his lordship seemed to mull over something more. At last, Lord Tipton enquired, in a tone of exaggerated easiness, “So this Lady Emma? You liked her?”

“Well enough, I suppose.”

“Good, good. Do not let the telling of a few tales bother you. It is the Season! Everyone is talking about everyone else!”

“I cannot deny the truth in that,” he admitted.

“Will you call on her?”

“I promised Scarlett that I would, at least once.”

“It would not do to raise Lady Emma’s expectations,” his lordship advised. “But…she could be very useful.”

“Useful?”

“In terms of knowing what is being said. Might all be trumpery, I am sure, but still…I should like to know what people say happened.”

“You wish me to pay court to her to find out what she knows?”

“Oh, well you need not court her, precisely. Remain friendly is all I thought.”

“Keep the acquaintance close so that I know what she knows, but do not raise her expectations? I am not sure I am talented enough for all that.” Oakley raised his brows.

“Of course you are! I have every confidence in your ability to befriend a woman without it leading to marriage. You are forever doing it. And in any case, romances have developed from less auspicious circumstances! One never knows.”

Lord Tipton began to stand up from his chair, and Oakley rose and hastened to him, wishing to lend his arm. Lord Tipton only waved him off, reaching for a cane that was leant against the arm of the chair. “Keep me apprised of anything else you hear, and I shall do likewise for you.”

A sizeable party had descended upon the Tipton drawing room while Oakley was with his father. Lady Carbrooke had arrived as well as Adelaide and Frederica. Lord Tipton and Oakley’s entrance did nothing to quell the active discussion of Lady Emma that was evidently ongoing.

“Anyone who will gossip to you will gossip about you, surely as I sit here.” Lady Carbrooke pointed one heavily-ringed finger about the room, seeming to wish to be sure none of the younger people missed her point. “Oakley, I should not give this girl another thought.”

“She was not as bad as all that,” Oakley protested as he took a seat next to Frederica and smiled at her in greeting.

“Any family that has endured as much abuse from the tongues of the ton as we have lately is sure to be more sensitive to tattle,” Frederica said with a consoling pat on his arm.

“Well said, Sister.” Adelaide nodded approvingly. “It seems very odd to me that any woman trying to impress you would bring up the family problems.”

“I think the temptation to learn more about Damian from the source was too irresistible to deny,” Worthe opined while Scarlett nodded her head next to him.

“Knowledge is its own currency in these difficult times,” Lord Tipton said as he settled into the most comfortable chair in the room. “One ought not to look away from any advantage.”

His words were greeted with frank curiosity from those in the room.

“What do you mean, Uncle?” Scarlett enquired.

“Only that everyone has some value, even a gossip. Sometimes particularly a gossip.”

“We are not looking for someone to be of use to us, but someone Oakley can fall in love with,” Adelaide said.

“I believe I understand,” Frederica said, and everyone turned to look at her. “We cannot know what is being said about Damian because no one with any form of civility will say it in front of us.”

“Just so,” Oakley said with a nod.

“It is likely Lady Emma knows a great deal more than what she told, or she will discover more. Our best means to know what tales are going round, and also to put in our side of things, is for Oakley to continue a friendship with her,” Lord Tipton informed them.

“I suppose one might say there is no sense trying to hide from a gossip, it only makes them dig harder,” Lady Carbrooke conceded.

“Who knows, perhaps you will fall in love!” Lady Tipton added. “We might find Lady Emma improves on further acquaintance.”