Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Bruton Street
Sleep eluded Jacob. The fireworks popping and crackling outside didn’t help, jolting him awake each time he managed to coax rest a little closer.
Then he heard voices downstairs – angry booming ones in the hallway.
It was too early for Lady Tolworth to be back so that left Yarton to defend the door against all boarders.
Unfortunately, it sounded like the pirate trying to swing aboard in this raid was none other than Viscount Sandys.
It would perhaps on another occasion be amusing to find out who would prevail in a swashbuckling fight between the finest butler in England pitted against the most headstrong brother, but Jacob decided it wasn’t fair to make Yarton verge on being impolite to a leading member of the ton.
It went against the grain of the man’s training.
Wrapping up in a borrowed silk dressing gown, he shuffled to the top of the stairs, feeling every single one of his bruises.
‘I will repeat, my lord, Lady Tolworth is not at home and her guest is asleep. You must return tomorrow if you wish to call on your brother.’ Yarton was using his most stentorian tone. It rarely failed – except in the presence of Arthur.
‘I will not be prevented from seeing my own brother by a jumped-up major-domo who doesn’t know his betters when he meets them! I’ll have you arrested if you try to stop me!’ Arthur tried to push past Yarton but the butler bravely held his ground.
‘You have no such rights in my lady’s house, Viscount Sandys. Call the Watch if you must, but the Charlies will tell you the same thing.’
Looking down over the banister, Jacob was tempted – oh, so tempted – to let his brother humiliate himself by trying and failing to carry out his threats, but his better nature prevailed.
‘Arthur, you really should listen to Yarton. An Englishwoman’s home is her castle and you are being unmannerly trying to force your way inside.’
‘Jacob!’ Arthur, to his credit, did look genuinely relieved to see that Jacob was standing and able to talk cogently. ‘You are well?’
‘Not exactly well, but alive. Yarton, I’ll see my brother in the library if you would be so kind as to show him in there. It might take me a few moments to come down the stairs.’
‘Very good, sir.’ Yarton gave a flick of a finger towards a doorway out of Jacob’s sight and a waiting footman bounded up the stairs to assist Jacob in his descent.
Jacob arrived in the library to find the butler serving his brother a brandy for all the world as if they had not come close to a tussle in the hallway.
‘Anything for yourself, Dr Sandys?’ Yarton enquired.
Tempting though it was to dull his pain with strong spirits, Jacob knew better. ‘If a camomile tisane was available, I would be most appreciative.’
‘Of course, sir.’ Yarton retreated in search of the tea. Jacob knew that if Lady Tolworth did not stock it in her kitchen, the butler would find a way of supplying it, even if he had to sally forth and pick the flowers himself.
Jacob lowered himself into the chair facing his brother. ‘You tracked me down then.’
Arthur didn’t say anything, merely gulped his brandy.
They resembled each other in their dark hair and blue-grey eyes, but Arthur was solid and broad-shouldered to Jacob’s leaner frame.
The viscount had been annoyed when his younger brother had grown a few inches taller than him in his teens, because Arthur had not wanted to cede even this advantage.
He felt the brother destined to hold the title should also be the most imposing.
Nature had had other ideas. Their relationship had followed a similar trajectory a few years later.
Odd now to think of it but until ten years ago Arthur had been the model older brother looking out for and guiding the younger and Jacob had sincerely admired him for that.
Then Jacob’s choices – some good, many bad – meant that ‘looking out’ had become invigilation and his ‘guiding’ more like herding Jacob into the sheep pen Arthur preferred.
But Arthur was no collie, nor Jacob a sheep, for all his attempts to force them into those roles.
‘As you may have heard,’ said Jacob, ‘I was involved in an accident. Otherwise, I would have sought you out tonight.’
‘You would? I would’ve put good money on your avoiding me. That awful woman in your office was very rude.’
‘You were in the wrong – and you owe her an apology. Mrs Napper is a respectable woman and deserves gentlemanly treatment.’
Arthur gave a harrumph to that, which was as much of a concession as Jacob could expect.
‘As for avoiding you, it is tempting, but I’m not a child in fear of a scolding. We must speak to each other like adults – like brothers – on this subject.’
Before Arthur could reply, Yarton returned triumphant with a steaming cup of camomile. ‘Will there be anything else, sir?’
‘No, thank you, Yarton. I’ll ring when the viscount is leaving.’
Yarton bowed and retreated, closing the doors behind him. It had proved a useful interruption because Arthur regrouped and decided on a less hostile approach.
‘Are you going to tell me what happened to you?’ asked Arthur.
‘Someone pushed me in front of Southwell’s carriage. Fortunately, he employs a skilled coachman and I escaped with only a battering. I’ve had worse falling from a horse in a steeplechase.’
‘You’re telling me someone tried to kill you?’
Jacob blew at the surface of his tea, enjoying the calming scent. ‘It wasn’t you then?’
‘Don’t even joke about it!’ Arthur’s expression sharpened. ‘Do you think it was one of us?’
‘One of us what?’
‘One of our class in society?’
‘It happened in Pall Mall – hardly the resort of the ruffians of the rookeries.’
Arthur ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘Oh, Jacob, can’t you see? What you are doing will put both you and Miss Fitz-Pennington at risk!’
‘It is likely nothing to do with that, but a case we are working on, and no, I cannot give you any details.’ He risked a sip, but the tea was still too hot.
‘That is no better! If you get yourself caught up in such murderous situations—’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you I dug a bullet out of a couple of weeks ago when some madman tried to murder you? How is the wound, by the way?’
Arthur touched his chest and winced. ‘That’s beside the point and you know it. That was an aberration, and he was aiming for Lord Furness, not me. But you… You will be constantly dragging the Sandys name into the gutter! I won’t allow it.’
Jacob struggled to hold on to his temper. Breathe. Count to ten. Finally, when he felt in command of himself, he replied, ‘Tell me, Arthur, is the Sandys name one that belongs solely to you, or are all of Father’s children allowed to use it, at least until marriage in the case of the girls?’
‘You know the answer to that,’ growled his brother. ‘But I am the head of the family.’
‘You are the head of your branch of the family. I am a sideshoot, establishing my own branch, and this one chooses to define itself as one that is active in the pursuit of truth and justice, making itself useful to our clients.’ Jacob wondered with wry amusement why he was sounding so self-righteous; he blamed his brother for driving him to this.
‘We’ve been useful to the government and we’ve saved lives – that is nothing to be ashamed of.
And if I choose to graft Miss Fitz-Pennington on to my branch, what is it to you? ’
‘Then you will only produce bitter, despised fruit, if you want to persist in this ridiculous imagery!’
Jacob wanted to strangle his brother. Surely no jury would convict him; Viscount Sandys was a sanctimonious ass.
‘What fruit do you refer to?’ he said, studiously keeping his tone polite.
‘Our results so far have revealed the culprits in three murder cases and justice has been served upon them. Or perhaps you are referring to what offspring Dora and I might have once we are married? Then I will tell you that no children of ours will be bitter and despised; they will be loved and cherished. If anyone dares show them the least disrespect, then they will be cut out of our lives.’
‘You say that now—’
He interrupted his brother. ‘The same goes for Dora – if anyone scorns her then he will answer to me.’
‘How many duels are you prepared to fight for that woman?’
‘That lady – and as many as it takes until people understand I am in deadly earnest about her.’
‘Would you even fight me, your own brother?’
‘Are you going to scorn her?’
Arthur scowled at his empty glass. ‘I cannot accept her into the family. I cannot.’
‘Then that is your loss. Your branch of the family will be weakened for it.’ Jacob thought it was high time he went on the attack.
He had taken one too many batterings today.
‘But I would look to your own conduct before you judge mine. Can you imagine how mortifying it is to Diana to see your mistress mentioned in the newspapers?’
Arthur looked away, taking solace in a bust of Aristotle that perched on the philosophy shelf. ‘That was unfortunate. I will instruct Ruby to be more circumspect.’
‘But you won’t give her up and live as a Christian husband should? Are you not aware of the hypocrisy of your position?’
‘I can look after my family and the lady under my protection.’
‘Show me in the Bible where such an arrangement is approved – I’m talking about the New Testament, not the Old.’
‘Don’t be such a child, Jacob. It is what we men do – men of our station.’
‘You don’t get to ignore the Ten Commandments just because you are rich.’
‘Who’s the hypocrite? I’m well aware that you once kept Lady Tolworth as your mistress.’ Arthur gave a sneering look around the comfortable library. ‘Or did she keep you?’
If Arthur was resorting to insults, then he was nettled. Had Jacob been feeling less bruised, he might’ve flung insulting remarks back, but weariness had knocked the fight out of him. What was the point in continuing this argument?
‘Thank you for calling on me, Arthur. Please assure those that care about my welfare that I survived the accident without major injury.’ He used the arm of the chair to lever himself up.
‘I will invite all the family to the wedding. I do hope you are able to come and celebrate my happiness.’ Reaching for the bell, he rang.
Yarton stepped in before Arthur could reply with more insults. ‘The viscount is leaving now.’
‘This way, sir,’ said the butler firmly.
Arthur thumped his glass down on the side table. ‘This isn’t over, Jacob. I’ll make you see sense one way or another.’
‘Goodnight, Arthur. I send my love to Diana and the children. Do think about what I said.’ Jacob sat down again as Yarton whisked his brother away. He cradled his cup. It was going to take a lot more than camomile tea to calm him down after that merry little interlude.