Chapter Twelve

O liver raced down the hallway to the guest chamber where Emilia was staying. True to Emilia’s word, Kate lay fast asleep on her bed. He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over to her and stroked her hair lovingly. A smile formed on her lips in response to his touch, though she did not wake. Oliver bent to kiss her forehead and then turned to leave. But paused when the tea tray caught his eye. Remnants of half-eaten teacakes and two teacups with shallow pools of cold tea left behind sat on the table. But the tea in one of the teacups had an unusual dark reddish hue. He picked up the cup, tilting it forward to reveal powdered sediments at the bottom. Smelling the contents, he recoiled.

The strong smell of laudanum mixed with lavender filled his nostrils. Gingerly, he tasted the tea. As soon as the cold liquid touched his tongue, he winced at its bitterness. The tea had been tainted with a large amount of laudanum powder and masked with sugar and lavender. How could Kate not have noticed?

He turned to his sleeping wife. He had to get her out of Emilia’s room and send for the doctor immediately. Oliver rang the servant’s bell and paced the room until Elspeth appeared.

“My lord!” she said, startled to see him in Emilia’s room.

“I need you to send for the doctor at once,” he said, gently lifting Kate in his arms. “Direct him to Lady Knox’s bedchamber when he arrives.”

Elspeth gasped. “Is my lady ill, my lord?”

“Just do as I ask, Elspeth. Hurry.”

Elspeth reached for the tea tray.

“Leave it!” Oliver said.

Elspeth nodded and hurried down the corridor, and Oliver carried Kate back to their bedchamber, setting her down on the bed just as Emilia came out of the dressing room, after having changed back into her own dress.

“You gave her laudanum,” Oliver barked, “that’s why she’s fast asleep.”

“Only to help her get the rest she needs,” Emilia said. “Laudanum won’t do her or the babe any harm.”

“Not in small amounts but you gave her too much. I saw remnants of the powder in the cup. How dare you administer medication to my wife? You’re not a doctor.”

“Oh please, mothers give laudanum to ease their children’s ailments all the time. Even infants are given laudanum. It can’t do her any harm.”

“That’s not the point!” Oliver ran a hand through his hair. Losing his temper wasn’t going to help Kate. “I want you to leave this house.”

“You will throw me on the street? Your own cousin.”

“I would if it weren’t for Kate.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a banknote. “But seeing as she loves you, I will have my driver escort you to an inn until I can find you suitable employment of some type.”

“Employment?” She spat out the word as if it were poison.

“Yes, as a companion to an elderly lady or some such respectable job that will give you food and shelter.”

“I think you are mistaken, my lord,” she said, snatching the banknote. “I don’t want your charity. I want my own house and a fortune to go with it.”

“I realize you have been through a very traumatic experience, but I hardly think it wise for you to come into my home and make demands, Miss Harrington. Do not presume to take advantage of my generosity.”

“I think you misunderstand our positions.”

“How so?” Oliver clasped his hands together to keep himself from reaching out to the woman. He wanted to grasp her by the shoulders and shake her.

“You seem to be forgetting that I know that Kate’s babe is not yours.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “You would ruin the life of your deceased brother’s child?”

She smirked. “My brother was a fool. He allowed Kate to trick him and seduce him.”

“So, you want me to pay you in exchange for your silence,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

“Exactly. Fund the lifestyle I want, and this will all go away. No one will know your child is illegitimate.”

“I would have taken care of you, let you live with us, and have food and clothing without question. But that wasn’t enough for you,” he growled. “You threaten blackmail. But I’ll have you know—no one will believe you,” Oliver said. “I am an earl and Kate is my wife. You can’t prove anything.”

“They will believe me. Why else would your wife have auctioned herself off for marriage at a notorious gaming den? Only a woman in dire circumstances would do such a thing.”

Oliver’s felt the blood drain from his face. “How do you know that?” He froze, a sudden memory of Lady Ashworth’s ball coming into his mind. That is where I saw her—at the ball, standing next to Middlemarch. That snake Middlemarch will rue the day he crossed me and the Black Widow of Whitehall.

“I want you out of my house!” Oliver snapped.

“Indeed,” she said, folding the banknote into the bosom of her dress. “And you needn’t bother with an escort, I will call a hansom to take me to a friend’s house. I’m not staying at an inn like some commoner.”

“A friend? I wasn’t aware you had any friends in London. Except, now that I think about it without friends in high places, how on earth did you get an invitation to Lady Ashworth’s ball? Could you have been the guest on Lord Middlemarch, perhaps?”

Emilia’s lips curled into a pernicious smile. “As long as you keep paying me, your dear Kate won’t have anything to worry about. But if you fail to cooperate, all of London will hear about the Earl of Knox’s soon-to-be bastard.”

“She’s breathing normally and her heart sounds strong. She’s not in any distress, so I think there is no harm done. As long as it was only laudanum. Did you check the cup?”

“Yes, I tasted the contents. It was laudanum, and quite a lot of it.”

“In that case I wouldn’t worry. She’ll likely sleep through the night and wake up feeling refreshed tomorrow. But if you’re concerned, have someone sit with her and monitor her breathing.”

“Thank you, Doctor. And what about the babe, does all look well?”

“All is fine. The child will likely get a good night’s rest too.”

Oliver nodded. He felt somewhat foolish for panicking over laudanum, but seeing Kate on that bed in Emilia’s room sent him back to a darker time—a time he didn’t care to relive. He bid the doctor goodbye and sat with Kate for a few minutes before kissing her lightly on the forehead and going downstairs. He instructed his servants to cease preparing for the dinner party immediately and sent Kate’s lady’s maid upstairs to sit with her until she awoke. After sending out a messenger with the appropriate cancellation and apology messages to his dinner guests, he had a word with his butler.

“I need to go out and tend to some urgent business. See to it that Miss Harrington’s bags are packed and that she leaves this house before my return. Elspeth must remain with Kate until Miss Harrington has left the premises, do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll see to it myself.”

“Excellent,” Oliver said.

Five minutes later, he climbed into his black and gold carriage, bearing his family crest.

“Where to, my lord?” The footman asked before closing the carriage door.

“Cleveland Street.” Oliver sat back in the buttoned leather seat. “The Lyon’s Den.”

The morning following Lord Knox’s visit to her office, Bessie Dove-Lyon crossed St. James’s Street and entered the white three-story building that was home to Boon’s Gentleman’s Club.

“Hello, Baxter. How are you today?” she greeted the doorman as she entered. “I’m here to see Mr. Boon. Is he in his office?”

“He is, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I’ll escort you upstairs.”

“Never mind, don’t bother leaving your post. I know the way.”

He nodded and she made her way up the stairs to the first floor of the building. Since it was before noon, the gaming rooms were not yet open, and the building was calm and silent, which was quite a different atmosphere from what it would be like a few hours from now. The rooms would be filled with smoke and gentlemen gambling—some increasing and some losing their livelihoods.

She approached Henry Boon’s office door where another doorman stood. “Good morning, Six,” she said. “I’m here to see Mr. Boon.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Mr. Boon always has time for you.” He rapped on the door with his knuckles and then pushed it open. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon is here to see you, sir.”

“Is she, indeed?” Bessie heard Henry Boon’s unmistakable throaty voice. “Well, send her inside.”

Six held the door open for Bessie and then closed it behind her as she stepped into Henry Boon’s lavish office. He stood to greet her. He was a short, portly man, with a bulbous nose and face full of scars that looked like the result of a childhood pox.

“Do take a seat Mrs. Dove-Lyon.” She sat on a chair across from his desk as he settled back in his chair and clasped his hands together. “Tell me, to what do I owe this honor?” he asked.

“I have a thorn in my side that needs extracting,” Bessie said.

Boon raised his eyebrows. “And you cannot extract this thorn on your own?”

“Unfortunately, he’s been banned from my club and so is out of my reach.”

“Mmm. And does this irritant have a name?”

“Middlemarch. Lord Maximus Middlemarch. I believe he’s been frequenting your establishment since I banned him from my club.”

Boon stroked his chin. “A peer. I see.”

“He’s a baron. Will that be a problem?”

“Is his estate entailed?”

“Yes. But if you leave him with nothing else but that which will eventually amount to a crumbling ruin in Kent, then I will consider the job done.”

Boon nodded. “This could be a dangerous operation. Cheating is a serious offense. If anyone got a whiff of that, my place could be closed down.”

“That won’t happen. I have magistrates and plenty other powerful men who are indebted to me, so if anything goes wrong—and I am assuming nothing will go wrong because you are an expert at what you do—the allegations will be swiftly quashed.”

Boon inclined his head. “Still, the risk is all mine, so I’ll want seventy percent of the proceeds.”

“We’ll do a fifty-fifty split,” Bessie said firmly.

Henry shifted in his seat.

“If this doesn’t suit, I can always pay a visit to Riley’s just up the street. I’m sure John Riley will—”

“No, no!” Boon sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, but considering our long history of helping each other, I will take a fifty-fifty split.”

“Excellent,” Bessie said, “let’s say tomorrow evening you lure Middlemarch into your club with an invitation-only poker game—sent exclusively to your most esteemed clients and best players—something his ego won’t allow him to resist.”

“Aah, excellent idea, playing to the man’s vanity. And once he’s committed to the game, I’ll put my man Six across from him. He’s a savant at counting cards.”

Bessie nodded. She knew all about Six. When Boon had first caught him counting cards in his establishment, he threatened to cripple the man’s hands, but Six quickly offered up his services and has been faithful to Boon ever since.

“Success is guaranteed, then?” Bessie said.

“With Six, yes.”

“And how will you ensure that Middlemarch keeps gambling? Will free-flowing brandy and whiskey be enough to do the trick?”

“That and a little of this.” He opened his drawer and extracted a small bottle from his desk.

“What is that?”

“Just a little tincture to inject an extra bit of energy. Only the minutest drop in a glass of brandy is needed to do the trick. It will keep him playing for hours. He will feel as though he is on top of the world even when he is losing his britches.”

“Outstanding,” Bessie said. “I knew I could count on you, Boon.” She stood up.

“Tell me, what did the unfortunate fellow do to you?” Boon asked.

“He breached confidentiality. No one comes to the Lyon’s Den and gossips about what they saw or heard there—no one. Not unless they want to suffer the consequences, that is.”

Boon looked at the veiled woman with admiration and nodded. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. A real pleasure,” he said. “And you can count on me to get the job done.”

“I know I can,” Bessie said. “But everyone will know I was behind it, and my message will come across loud and clear. If you cross Bessie Dove-Lyon, you will pay a heavy price.”

Bessie exited Boise’s gentleman’s club with a sense of satisfaction, but her job was not yet done. Now it was time to visit some of her oldest friends.