Chapter Twelve
“A man to see you, mum,” Alice said, poking her head into the office.
Louisa glanced at the door behind her, standing partly open.
Beyond lay her bedchamber, with Gabe in her bed.
He was sleeping, or had been, though she planned to wake him soon to take a light midday meal.
Then he would complain about enforced inaction, but Nan had decreed he should rest and give his ribs time to heal, and Nan’s ruling had been endorsed by the prim and terrifyingly efficient young man, identifying himself as Orde, who had called that morning to bring Gabe a change of clothes and linens.
Gabe grumbled at Sister Nan and rained threats upon Orde, but he submitted to staying in bed when Louisa administered kisses, and she supposed she might be called upon again to provide her own particular treatment when he awakened. Her insides warmed at the thought.
She would find a way to explain to the Sisters why she was offering her bed chamber as an infirmary. He was a duke, the highest peer in the realm. Perhaps that was reason enough.
“Did my caller give a name?” Louisa asked.
“You may tell her,” said the man stepping into the room, “I have the distinction of being Lord Véritè.”
Louisa rose. She recognized him without the mask. Her quill fell on the desk through fingers gone suddenly numb.
“You are no lord,” she spat.
“No,” he admitted, then smiled. “Not yet.”
Louisa positioned herself between her and the door to the bedchamber so he couldn’t make any sudden movements toward Gabe. His smile widened as he watched her. He circled a signet ring on his finger, and the realization drummed through her head so hard that she felt momentarily dizzy.
Gabe’s cousin Fenton was Lord Véritè. Her adversary as well.
“How?” she asked first. She could be ashamed of herself later, that her first reaction was a selfish one, solely attuned to her own interests. “How did you find out about me?”
“Oh, so it is true.” He raised a set of dark brown brows.
He looked nothing like Gabe, who possessed a dark, sleek beauty.
His cousin was shorter, slender, almost finely made.
His blond hair and classical features had likely seduced many a maiden and made him many a friend.
But Louisa saw the blankness in his blue eyes.
He was a man consumed wholly by his own wants and could see nothing else in his purview.
“I admit to a great deal of guessing. One of your nuns here—one of the older ones—she heard things when you first came. Had her suspicions, from comments you made, and from your possessions. Also, it would seem, you talk in your sleep.”
His expression turned wolfish, predatory.
“She wasn’t most pleased when you were elected Matron above her.
She’s been here longer, served her whole life, she said.
Of course she’s too pious to go against you to your face.
But when I came and asked around, requested a tour, mentioned the possibility of moving to a new property, under new ownership—she seemed to welcome the idea of a change. ”
Louisa’s heart sank in her chest, twisted. “Sister Agatha,” she murmured.
He nodded. “Seemed to think she might be elected Matron, were unfortunate circumstances to—remove you.”
Her skin crawled at the condescending leer that accompanied “unfortunate circumstances.” She straightened her back. “And if I do not leave?”
He seemed truly surprised. “What do you suppose would happen if you stayed, and the truth were known about you? Our William, King who is to be, might decide to send you to France for justice. He’ll want to make a gesture to Charles X that shows his power.”
Louisa lifted her chin. She knew better than to show weakness, though her heart trembled in her chest like a hare in the hunt. “And if the King of France does not care what happened to a friend of Napoleon, all those years ago?”
Fenton’s smile showed his teeth. “The Grenay family might care. I made inquiries. You destroyed them. Killed the head of the household, left no proper heir—it’s been a miserable fight for his remaining family to try to hold their place. They would be happy to have some revenge.”
Louisa curled her hands into fists. “William, if he becomes King, might decide to forgive me. I have done great good here.”
“But you won’t do good any longer, once the world knows your character. Adelaide, as Queen, won’t abide someone so immoral heading a charity of importance. And all your powerful benefactors and patrons, they’ll follow the Queen’s favor. You’ll destroy this place if you stay.”
Louisa wanted to close her eyes against the blow of truth in his statement.
Her fists shook with the effort not to weep, not to show weakness.
“You’re the one who wants to destroy it,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.
“You want us to leave. To sell this property to you? What could you possibly gain?”
He blinked. “A great deal of blunt, you little fool. Do you know what land in Knightsbridge is worth?”
Louisa considered seizing the quill and trying to stab him with it. He would upend a hundred lives and ruin her, purely for his own selfish gain. “Why do you need our land? I thought you were out to make yourself Duke of Barkham.”
He laughed and shrugged, as much as admitting to his crimes.
“I admit I’ve been on the hunt a while for a way to elevate my fortunes.
Hard work staying in favor with the Wellington government while playing dice with the Whigs.
Comes at a cost, all that keeping up appearances, and the title will help, but there aren’t exactly streams of money pouring in, you know. ”
He stepped further into the room, rounding the desk, and Louisa took a step back as Fenton looked about him, evaluating the plain, tidy room.
“Like any peer’s estate, Barkham’s assets are all land and investments.
I won’t be able to liquidate enough to pay my debts, and if I did, I wouldn’t be able to live in the style that befits a duke.
I’ll have Barkham—don’t think I won’t. I deserve it more than that worthless man lying in your room there.
The bastard son of a whore, getting himself up as a duke. ”
Fenton curled his lip, moving the signet ring on his finger.
“He’ll learn soon, if he doesn’t know already, our uncle ran things into the ground.
Poor Harry had to go abroad to try to live more cheaply.
I was the one clever enough to seek out my own sources of income.
Proving, yet again, that I am the worthy heir, and that upstart ought to be cleared out of my way. ”
“Stay away from Gabe. We’ll—we’ll have you taken to court. We’ll bring charges.”
“On whose word?” He sneered. “The word of a murderer, the woman he’s made his whore?
What cracking good testimony that would be.
They wouldn’t even call you to the stand.
You have no authority here, and no reason to obstruct me.
Now let me through so I might talk to my cousin.
See if I can find some shred of sense in his head. ”
“No. You’ll just try to kill him again.”
Fenton’s eyes widened, a shard of delight gleaming from the blue. “Oh, did my cousin have another run-in with thieves? How very unfortunate. I heard he was attacked at Vauxhall, but he will run about in the most unsavory areas, you know.”
“Leave off harassing her, Fenton. Your quarrel is with me.”
Gabe stood in the doorway, half-dressed. He wore his boots and waistcoat, but no coat or cravat. He looked large and magnificent, and dangerous with the cut above his eyebrow, but Louisa guessed what it cost him to be on his feet.
“In truth, both of you are standing in my way,” Fenton mused. “So I’ll start here.”
From inside his coat he withdrew a dueling pistol, mate to the one Louisa had salvaged at Vauxhall, and leveled it at Gabe’s chest.
“You, Matron, will write a letter agreeing to sale of the Benevolence Hospital and its lands to me and my agent. I don’t doubt there will be more paperwork down the road, but you know what the cost of crossing me is, yes?”
He regarded Louisa’s glower and answered her with an amused smile.
“A bit of spirit. I do like that in a woman, though you take it too far. Call for help,” he said pleasantly, “and I’ll shoot him.
Scream, and I’ll shoot him.” His brows lowered.
“Stand there any longer, and I’ll shoot him, from sheer boredom. ”
Louisa bit her lip. She wasn’t the owner of the Hospital or its grounds; the deed was held by the board as a whole, and his claim wasn’t likely to go far with a mere piece of paper from her. He was nocked in the head, not to know that.
However, he held a gun leveled at the man she loved. Louisa sat herself at her desk.
“That ring,” she said, smoothing the tremble from her voice and hands as she pulled a piece of vellum from her precious stack and took up the quill. “That was the sign my husband used with his friends. How did you come by it?”
“Ships move between here and France, you must know. One of your handkerchiefs bears your family crest, and your sister nun spotted it once in the laundry. Happens I have a friend in Lens, and once we were able to identify the d’Estreaux symbol, it wasn’t difficult to connect you to your crimes.
You are still much talked about, it might please you to know. ”
She was desperate to ask what he knew of the d’Estreaux family, of her mothers and sisters and whether they had prospered under the Bourbon Restoration as they had hoped, but now was not the time.
“Louisa, don’t give him a thing,” Gabe said from the doorway. His low voice sent a shiver down her back.
She would do anything to protect him. Anything. Didn’t he know that?
“Do, please, give me a reason to shoot you,” Fenton said, still in the same smooth, pleasant tone. “I’d take such satisfaction in doing so.”
“You’re mad if you think you can get away with threatening me. Louisa’s right. We have grounds to turn you into the authorities.”