Chapter 15 #2
Owen walked through the world differently to his two friends.
Where Henry always had to consider his reputation, ever conscious of ensuring that nothing stained it, Owen’s reputation allowed him to do whatever he pleased.
Society had fashioned an opinion of him due to his scars, and his intimidating demeanor opened countless doors, for fear was a potent motivator.
Luke, on the other hand, charmed his way through life. That, too, was not without benefit.
“I can help,” Luke said with an encouraging smile. “People like to talk around me. If I ask the right questions, perhaps they will reveal something.”
Henry reached across and set down another piece of paper, crumpled from being folded over so many times. “As I will be otherwise engaged for a while, taking care of my wife, might you look into these names for me?”
“Is this not one of your business associates?” Owen asked with a raised eyebrow, reading the list of potential suspects that Henry had penned.
“He was,” Henry replied, grimacing. “He could not pay his part of a large investment last year, so was written out of the contract. A contract that has since turned into a veritable fortune. It would be enough of a motive.”
They went back and forth down the list of names, Henry explaining his reasoning for putting them there, while Owen and Luke listened.
By the end of it, only two names had been crossed off the list of twelve, after Henry’s friends had found his suspicions to flimsy at best, ridiculous at worst. Still, that left ten people for Owen and Luke to investigate.
Seven, if Henry did not include the three that he meant to investigate himself.
“If I may,” Luke said, as he got up to pour brandy for the trio, “I have a concern about the majority of those that Owen and I will be pursuing.”
“Go on,” Henry replied.
Luke brought back three glasses, skillfully carried in his dexterous hands. “Why would any of these people aim for your wife instead of you or your business endeavors?”
“As a threat,” Owen answered darkly, before Henry could. “To take something precious in return for something precious being taken. Money, for one thing.”
Luke passed the drinks around. “In theory, I understand that. But there has been no note, no letter, no actual threat made to you, Henry. No one has taken responsibility for that first accident, and, if we are to believe that your wife’s fall is an extension of that, then it is the same: no one has taken responsibility to let you know it was a threat.
No demands have been made. No reasoning.
So, either the person behind this does not know what they are doing, or we are looking at it all wrong. ”
For what felt like an eternity, Henry sat frozen in the armchair, as still as a statue.
His mind, however, was a mess of bouncing thoughts, each one ricocheting across his skull.
Each time he pulled the thread of an idea or possibility, it snaffled and tangled, until he could not remember why he had thought of it.
“He makes an excellent point,” Owen said, deep creases furrowing his brow. “It does not make sense, unless this culprit is biding their time before they declare their intentions?”
“I keep thinking that… she was supposed to die that night,” Henry finally managed to say, his throat tight.
“When I found her at the bottom of the steps, I thought she was dead. But what would killing her have done to me? I might have—would have—sought revenge, but… how would that help the person who did this?”
He was thinking aloud, in truth, his hopes of inching closer to a culprit coming to an abrupt dead end. He had been so sure it was a threatening act, but that had all unraveled now, putting him right back where he had started. With nothing.
“What are your thoughts on Kenneth now?” Luke prompted.
Henry shook his head. “Unlikely.”
“Gibbs?”
“I do not know, but… he stands to lose the most if anything were to happen to Thalia,” Henry replied haltingly, cursing himself for not seeing that before. “He feeds off being the father of a duchess. He boasts of it. Then again, I am not convinced he was not behind that first incident.”
Owen took a sip of his drink. “If he thought Her Grace was traveling to you to put a stop to the betrothal…”
“He did think that. He knew it,” Henry interjected, his stomach writhing in anger and confusion and frustration.
“So, are we dealing with two parties here? Unconnected?” Luke said, leaning forward in his seat. “The second may have used the first as a sort of… camouflage.”
Henry slowly closed his eyes and puffed out a tired breath. “Or I am a madman, and this second incident is nothing more than an accident.”
“Maybe so,” Owen said, “but we still ought to discover the culprit of the first. That cannot be left unsolved. Justice must be served.”
“Well then, it is clearly Gibbs,” Luke jumped back in, eyes bright as if everything was already solved, and they could return to their usual endeavors of drinking and chattering.
The paper in Owen’s hand rustled as he waved it. “You have your brother’s name on here. I was not aware that Walter was back in the country. Did he return around the time of your wife’s fall?”
“No.” Henry shook his head. “As far as I know, Walter is still in Morocco. I… do not know why I put his name down. He did say he was thinking about returning in his last letter to me, but even if he did, he would never try to seize my title. And harming Thalia would not have gained him that anyway.”
In truth, Henry had just put the name down because he had been at a loss, and it would not have been the first time a second son had tried to usurp an heir. Even if he did not believe Walter would do such a thing. Walter, who had never shown any indication that he cared to be a duke.
Owen nodded. “Then, we focus on Gibbs. We focus on the first time your wife got hurt. We focus on these supposed highwaymen.”
“Yes… yes, let us concentrate on that,” Henry replied, as a little notion sparked in his head.
Having been the owner of a gentlemen’s club for a fair while now, he understood how certain things worked.
Intimidation and blackmail were used far more often than society would ever admit to, and there were only two reasons he could think of as to why Thalia had been targeted on that night, four years prior: either Gibbs had sought to stop her by any means necessary, or Gibbs himself was the target.
He may be the one the threat was for, he reasoned. A reminder to pay his debts. A warning of what would happen if he did not.
Four years ago, those debts were paid off, because Henry himself had been the one to pay them. But what if Gibbs had fallen back into debt and was in considerable arrears?
It was not a certainty, but it was a more logical explanation than any others that Henry had. Indeed, it also explained why Thalia had changed her mind so quickly about marrying him, after that incident had taken place. After all, that was how they had ended up having their deal.