Chapter 1 #2
“For the purpose of?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he shifted in the delicate chair.
Ralph, a former boxer, was a large man, both broad and muscular with anvil-like fists and massive thighs.
The furniture had clearly been made for someone far more refined than himself.
It appeared as though it might buckle under his weight at any moment.
The other, much smaller gentleman cleared his throat, leaning forward as his voice dropped to a whisper. “There are some questions involving the earl’s death.”
Damn. The last thing he’d wanted was to become embroiled in an investigation. One that the queen had taken a special interest in. That sort of attention never ended well for someone like himself. “What kind of questions?”
The man moved further out on his chair, his features animated for the first time during their interview. “The earl was seen in perfect health not a week before his demise.”
Demise?
“What was more, the relationship between father and son was contentious at best.”
Was he to find out if the son had killed the father? If the queen knew that he was Wyatt’s bastard brother, then surely she also knew he’d come close to murdering his own sire. Several times. And that likely made him an ill-chosen candidate to investigate parricide.
In fact, the death of his father had been a recurring fantasy through much of his childhood. “I’m not certain—”
The other man raised one of his knobby fingers. “The queen is prepared to offer you significant compensation for your trouble.”
“Compensation? What sort of compensation?”
The dignitary managed to look down his long and rather hawkish nose at Ralph. “I’m not at liberty to say, though I can tell you, any favor from our queen ought to be revered, not questioned.”
It was Ralph’s turn to frown. This man was beyond pompous, a trait he usually met with violence.
He’d had a lifetime of the elite looking down upon him, and while he could consider himself less than, he’d accept that sort of behavior from no one else.
“You’re asking me, a bastard, to accept the hospitality of a lord of the realm and then spy on him.
Do you have any idea what sort of trouble that might bring? ”
The man tilted his chin lower, giving Ralph an even more condescending glare. “You have the queen’s backing.”
“Until I don’t,” Ralph answered, his massive arms crossing. Any man who’d lived on the edge of society as he had knew one never trusted a handshake and a promise for some undisclosed future payment. “What assurances do I have?”
The man’s gaze narrowed. “For a man who went about saving the city from all sorts of criminals, you seem loath to take on the queen’s justice.”
That was likely a fair point. Wyatt would have surely already said yes.
But Ralph had not grown up a member of the peerage, he’d spent his life observing the upper class.
And, thanks to his father, being abused by the elite—literally.
His father had beat him often and with fervor.
Which meant he had no rosy assumptions about how this might end.
“If it’s money, I’ll know the sum in advance. ”
Lord Whatever-his-name-was lifted his chin. “It’s more than just that.”
“I beg your pardon,” he said again, swallowing a lump. Because those words had him suddenly wondering if something real was actually going to come out of this and only fools hoped.
The man rested his hands on his knee. “Her Majesty is willing to offer you the title of the Earl of Pembroke. She’s keeping some of the assets, of course, but you’d be given the country estate and the land that surrounds it to support your seat. And the London townhouse, of course.”
Ralph’s mouth fell open, shock reverberating through him. “Are you saying…”
“Yes, my lord.” The man’s mouth curled around the address as though he’d tasted something bitter. “To thank you for your service to your country and for a small bit of additional aid, the queen has gifted you a legacy. Congratulations.”
“You can’t be serious.”
The man rose and crossed to a desk, pulling out several documents. “I can assure you, it’s very serious. Here is the proof. I will keep them until the investigation is complete, obviously. Once done, you’re welcome to take these to a solicitor, share them with your brother.”
“I don’t get the title until I’ve proven the new earl’s guilt or innocence?”
“That’s right. Which is why you’ll attend under your current name.” The man put all but a single sheet back into the desk.
Ralph peeled his eyes from the pages before him to look back up at the dignitary. “Why?”
He grimaced. “I thought it would be obvious. How can you complete the task if everyone knows you’ve been newly elevated by the queen? It’s why she thought to tell you after you’d completed your…er…mission.”
He supposed that was true. The problem, or one of the many, was that Wyatt usually completed investigations. Not Ralph. What was more, he hated the elite, with the exception of his brother; the last thing he wanted was to be one of them. But how did one turn down the queen?
“And if the new earl is innocent?”
“Such the better for the realm.” The man twirled his hand, adding flair to his statement. Ralph detested flair.
“This is a copy of the queen’s seal of approval should you need to gather any documentation. Use it wisely. It will alert anyone paying attention that you’re investigating.”
Ralph took the sheet with a grimace. “I’ve been made an earl?”
Lord So and So gave a quick jerk of his chin. “Yes. And in return, you only need make certain the old Earl of Kinross met with no foul play.”
Of course, he’d have to do something even more dangerous than stalking common thieves in the night. Men of the peerage, with all their power, were ten times more dangerous. But then again, if he were one of them, he could have the power he needed to really fight injustice.
Ralph stuck out his hand. He’d nearly spit in it first, a gesture often used by the lower classes to denote a serious transaction. Not that such a gesture was needed now, he just wanted to see what the other man would do with his offer of a wet palm.
Gingerly, the other man shook Ralph’s hand and then executed a short bow. “We look forward to learning your findings.”
Ralph shook his head as he turned to leave, paper in hand. His gaze drifted to the drawer that had the rest of his dangled future. Was that offer of an earldom like a worm on a hook? Was there an actual possibility he’d really become an earl?
Today had been an odd day. But if he could see this through, he’d be able to finally prosecute the real criminals of the realm. The men in charge.
* * *