Chapter 31
“A blackmail letter?” Catherine gasped, rushing over to Dominic and grabbing the letter from his hand. Silently, she drank in the contents.
Lord Stanhope,
I know your secret, that is, your two secrets. They are safe with me, but only for the time being. My silence does not come cheap. It costs five thousand pounds. You will be given only one chance to pay. If you fail to do so, you will never see your secrets again. You have a single day to decide whether they are worth that much to you. You will be hearing from me again.
“There is no signature,” Catherine said helplessly, as if a signature would have helped in any manner. “Why isn’t there a signature?”
Dominic seemed to understand immediately. He walked over to her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Cate.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, both her voice and her entire body trembling. “Annabel and Rosie are God knows where, alone and frightened.”
She was on the verge of tears. She couldn’t believe that anyone could do this to a woman, let alone a child. She felt she could wring the man’s neck herself, if she ever laid her hands on him.
“Now, if we fall under the weight of pressure, we won’t be of any help to them,” Dominic was the voice of reason in that room, for which she was grateful. “We have to remain calm and composed.”
“I… I don’t know how,” Reginald admitted, looking around, then allowing his body to slump down onto the first chair that he found. “I feel like this is all my fault.”
“No time for self pity, old boy,” Dominic shook his head.
He walked over to a small bell hanging by a rope and rang it fervently. Moments later, a servant girl entered.
“You called, Your Grace?” she answered politely.
“Yes,” he nodded. “We need some whiskey and a glass. Heck, make it three glasses. We all need some liquid courage for this one, to steady our nerves.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she curtsied, then disappeared from the dining hall.
“Now,” he turned his attention back to them again. “Let’s focus on the letter. Do you know who delivered it?”
Reginald shook his head. “It arrived with the morning mail, with all my other correspondence.”
“I see,” Dominic murmured. “But it must have come from somewhere. Don’t worry. I shall send for Tim immediately. You will give him the letter and I assure you that he will find out how it finds its way to your home. Rest assured of that.” Dominic paused for a moment, then he continued. “As for the payment…”
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. He allowed the servant girl in, and she rushed over, placing a crystal decanter with amber colored liquid, joined by three crystal glasses.
“Would that be all, Your Grace?” she asked looking down at her feet.
“Yes, thank you,” he dismissed her, waiting until she was out of the dining hall to continue. “As for the payment, that—”
“That is a frightening amount of money,” Reginald admitted, swallowing heavily.
Catherine understood him. While they were left with a considerable sum provided by their late parents, taking such a lump might cause the financial ruin of their family. Reginald had always been the one to handle the financial affairs, but she still knew something of it and she knew enough to know that five thousand pounds was a small fortune whichever way they chose to look at it.
“The letter states just a single day to decide whether I would be paying for it or not,” Reginal continued, as little droplets of sweat started to roll down his forehead. “Of course I want to pay, but I would need more time. I need to sort out affairs, sell property, see all the ways that might help me achieve that insane sum.”
“I will pay it,” Dominic said simply.
At first, Catherine didn’t think she heard him right. She blinked heavily at his comment, allowing the words to settle in, for her mind to process it. Then, Reginald shook his head.
“Absolutely not,” Reginald spoke sternly. “I could never ask that of you. I could never accept it. I am too much of a gentleman to accept charity.”
Dominic frowned. He obviously didn’t see it as charity and Catherine could tell.
“Too much of a gentleman to swallow your pride and help the woman you love?” Dominic asked, without a single hint of judgment in his voice. It was a simple question, one that demanded of Reginald to choose what sort of man he wanted to be: proud and alone, or humble and with his family.
Reginald didn’t say anything to that at first. He looked down at his lap, at his fingers which he had been cracking for the past several minutes, unable to settle his nerves in any other way.
“Now, I know that is a large sum of money by anyone’s account,” Dominic continued matter-of-factly, “so, if you wish, consider it a loan, if that will make it easier on you. I do not need it back, though.”
“Dominic, are you certain of this?” Catherine felt the need to interfere.
He smiled tenderly at her. “Absolutely,” he nodded. “Money is nothing without family, and despite how everything started, you have become my family, Cate. Reginald is now my brother, although I’m certain he doesn’t see me as such, for which I do not blame him. I want to make this my way of showing you two that I am truly sorry for how I manipulated you both.
But I’ve learned my lesson. I grew from it. And as I told you, money means nothing without family.” This time, he turned to Reginald. “If my money brings your child and the woman you love back, then I see no better use for it.”
Reginald swallowed heavily, getting up and offering him his hand. Dominic shook it sympathetically, with a friendly nod.
“Now that we got that out of the way, let me fetch Tim and we can see what we can find out regarding the delivery of this letter.”
***
“This is the lad who delivered the letter,” Tim said, as he stood by a little boy, who was nervously wringing his dirty, little hat in his hands.
Dominic watched him from behind his mahogany writing table, a boy like any other he had seen in the bustling streets of London. Those street urchins were a common sight, weaving through the crowded thoroughfares with agility and strength uncommon for their small stature.
The boy before him was dressed in tattered rags that barely shielded him from the chill of the damp cobblestones, but Dominic knew that he, like all the other street urchins, was a survivor of the city’s harsh realities.
With a mop of tousled hair and dirt-streaked cheeks, the boy’s face bore the marks of countless struggles. His eyes, wide and alert, darted about Dominic’s study with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, ever watchful for opportunities or dangers lurking in the shadows.
“Don’t worry,” Dominic spoke kindly and with compassion, realizing that the boy thought he was in trouble. Or at least, that trouble was just around the corner. “We just need some information from you, nothing else. And if you tell us what we need to hear, there might be a sixpence in it for you.”
The boy’s eyes widened at the mention of a sixpence and he hastily nodded.
Dominic smiled. “What is your name?”
“Charlie, sir,” the boy replied, to what Tim pushed him gently.
“You are speaking to the duke, lad,” Tim reminded him.
Charlie nodded hastily. “Your Grace.”
“That’s all right,” Dominic reassured him. He lifted his gaze, then addressed Tim. “Tim, why don’t you tell Mrs. Jenkins to prepare some hot tea and scones with strawberry jam? Our friend Charlie here might be hungry.” He turned to Charlie. “Would you like that?”
Charlie gasped silently, swallowing heavily at the offer. “Y-y-yes… please, Your Grace.”
“Please, Tim,” Dominic gestured at his friend.
Tom nodded without a word, leaving Dominic with Charlie a moment later. Dominic was of the opinion that Charlie might find it easier to remember any valuable information on a full stomach. That might also erase the memory of whatever money he was paid to be silent regarding his delivery. Dominic just had to up his offer and make it better. So far, it seemed that he was doing a good job.
“You know, my housekeeper, Mrs. Jenkins, makes the best strawberry jam in the world,” Dominic smiled.
“I… I don’t remember the last time I had strawberry jam,” Charlie admitted apologetically, as if it were his fault. Then he hastily added. “Your Grace.”
“Well, like I said, if you tell me what I need to know, I might persuade Mrs. Jenkins to part with a jar or two so you can take it with you, along with that shiny sixpence. Would you like that?”
“Very much so,” Charlie nodded.
“Good,” Dominic smiled again. “Now, you are probably wondering what it is I want to know.” He paused there. Charlie seemed to be a good boy, well-mannered for an urchin. He didn’t interrupt him. He merely nodded, listening intensively, waiting to be asked a question. “You delivered a letter this morning to Lord Stanhope. Do you know who that is?”
“No,” Charlie shook his head, his eyes wide with apprehension and fear that he might be left without a warm meal and some money.
“All right,” Dominic continued patiently. “You might not know the man, but you do know the house.”
“Mmm,” Charlie nodded hastily. “I was told which house it was.”
“Told by who?” Dominic asked cautiously.
“The man with a scar on his forehead,” Charlie explained.
“Did he tell you his name?” Dominic asked again. He made a mental note about the man with a scar on his forehead.
“No, nothing like that.” Charlie shook his head. “He approached me and my brother, asking which one of us would want to deliver a letter for two shillings. He said it was urgent and needed to be done straight away, in time for the morning mail. So, I said I would do it, because my brother is lame. He can’t run.”
Dominic nodded compassionately. “You are a good brother, Charlie.”
Charlie didn’t say anything to that, but Dominic could see the pain in the boy’s eyes and it touched him.
“The man showed me the house,” Charlie continued. “And I slipped it into the mailbox without being noticed, just like the man told me to. When I returned, he gave me the money and told me that he might be sending another letter tomorrow, and if I want to make another two shillings, I should be in the same place, at the same time.”
“Tomorrow, you say?” Dominic inquired, a plan already hatching inside his mind.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Charlie nodded.
“You see, that man wants to hurt a friend of mine,” Dominic tried to simplify the situation, to make it as uncomplicated for Charlie as possible, but at the same time, he wanted him to understand that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, he was helping. “I need to find him before that happens. Your information has helped me a lot, Charlie. Thank you.”
“I will get the tea and scones?” Charlie asked apprehensively.
“Of course,” Dominic nodded with a smile. “And two jars of Mrs. Jenkins’ famous strawberry jam, one for you and one for your brother.”
Charlie couldn’t believe it. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Your Grace!”
“But before I take you down to Mrs. Jenkins,” Dominic continued. “I will give you the sixpence. However, if you tell me where you were this morning and where you will be tomorrow morning, to wait for that man, I will make it a crown.”
“A crown!” Charlie gasped; his little lips open wide. “Of course! George and I were in Seven Dials at six in the morn.”
Dominic’s brow furrowed. Seven Dials was a street located in the heart of Covent Garden, known for its labyrinthine network of narrow alleys and bustling market stalls, making it a magnet for street urchins and urchin gangs, who would congregate in the shadowy concerns and hidden alcoves, their presence a constant reminder of the social inequalities that plagued the city.
“All right,” Dominic said, concluding their conversation. “I just want you to promise me that if you see me there, you won’t approach me. Just wait for the man, all right?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Charlie nodded gratefully, as his eyes widened at the crown that suddenly appeared out of the drawer of Dominic’s writing table.
“Here, this is for you,” Dominic offered him the money, and Charlie hastily pocketed it. “Now, let us go downstairs to Mrs. Jenkins so you can have some tea and scones.”
Charlie quickly jumped to his feet, heading for the door before he was even told to do so. Dominic knew that he could have easily asked a servant to accompany the boy downstairs, but he wanted to do it on his own. He felt sorry for the little boy and his lame brother, who hopefully helped them in their path to finding Reginald’s family.