Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Ihope we were not interrupting anything,” Solomon said.
Laurence hid his scowl as he made to shut his study door.
“You actually arrived at the perfect time,” he replied, schooling his expression into an unfeeling one as he turned to face his guests. “What, may I ask, brings you here?”
As he asked, he darted a quick, curious look to the fit, dark-featured man Solomon had brought along.
“Laurence, I would like to introduce you to Godric Donnet, the Duke of Hungate,” Solomon said, waving a hand at the man. “Godric, may I introduce you to my oldest friend? Laurence Curtis, Duke of Blackford.”
“How do you do?” Laurence said, extending his hand. “I have heard of you in investment circles. You seem to know very well what you are doing.”
“I have heard of you as well, Your Grace,” Godric replied, accepting Laurence’s handshake with a firm nod. “But more about your efforts to tear apart this awful auction.”
Caught off guard, Laurence looked from Godric to Solomon.
“That is why I have decided that you two should meet,” Solomon explained, exchanging glances with both men. “Godric here and his friend Cedric Redwyne, the Duke of Calder, have recently been able to have an investor in the auction dealt with. I thought we could use his help.”
“Cedric Redwyne?” Laurence asked with surprise as he waved Godric and Solomon toward the two chairs facing his desk. “As in the infamous rake, Redwyne the Divine? Goodness, with his reputation, I assumed he would adore a place like the auction, not want to destroy it.”
“Your assumption would be very wrong then, Your Grace,” Godric answered, his tone gruff but polite as he took a seat.
“Much like you, Cedric acquired his wife at the auction under very peculiar circumstances. He is also no longer a rake and in fact is more the yearning puppy that chases after his wife.”
Godric’s smile was instant and rueful, and Laurence suddenly had no doubt that such a man did not smile often.
“Deborah has changed many things about my old friend,” Godric went on.
Again, Laurence’s brows rose in surprise as he heard Cedric’s wife’s name. His wife, he realized, was the very woman who had stopped him from destroying any chance of getting Ellen out safely the night he and Solomon went to spy on the place.
“This sounds like a very interesting tale,” Laurence said as he poured them each a whisky. “One, at another time, I would be most eager to hear.”
“I am sure if you spoke to Cedric he would be happy to tell you, as he is now quite obsessed with his wife and loves any opportunity to speak highly of her,” Godric answered, as he accepted his drink with a nod of thanks.
“However, tonight, I come bearing information regarding the auction runners themselves, not the women who have been victims of it.”
He swallowed the whisky in his glass in one gulp, not even wincing as the expensive liquor no doubt burned a line from his throat to his stomach, and set it down so he could open the portfolio he had brought along.
“Deborah had a reason for being at the auction,” Godric said, getting right down to it.
“A few years before she entered as a bidder herself and was won by Cedric, her sister had entered the auction in an attempt to help her family make some much-needed money. Her sister, Hester, was sold to one Sylvester Fairborne, the Earl of Whitford. Hester found herself falling in love with her bidder, and was wooed by his promises of marriage.”
“I take it those promises were false,” Laurence interjected dryly.
Godric gave a curt nod.
“Not only were they false, but when he released Hester, he went a step further and ruined her reputation very publicly,” Godric explained. “It was so bad that Hester had to leave her family, leave London, and her societal rank behind.”
Laurence’s stomach tightened as he noted the similarities between Hester’s and Ellen’s struggles.
“Deborah was determined to exact vengeance for her sister, find a way to redeem her reputation, and allow her the ability to come back. So, she disguised herself as a commoner woman and found employment at the auction. There, she waited for her opportunity to take down Sylvester and make him pay. As she and Cedric had reached a deal, he was more than happy to help,” Godric explained, holding a few sheets of paper.
“Like your Benedict, we were trying to tie Sylvester to the involvement of the auction,” he went on. “As you can see, we were able to find no such proof, except that he was buying women to force them into his own sort of sale—one where the women had no choice but to participate.”
“So, he is in prison now?” Laurence asked, looking over the papers.
“No,” Godric said gruffly, a sneer of disgust drawing up on his face, “There were too many authority figures who liked what he was doing to make a proper arrest. However, with such proof, the attendees, and actual investors of the auction that Deborah and Hester went through, sought their own sort of revenge.
Sylvester is now in hiding, too afraid for his life to ever return to England, let alone London.
“In looking for evidence to tie Sylvester to the auction, however, we found that bit of information out on your boy, Benedict.”
Laurence swept his gaze once more down the papers Godric had handed him, looking more like bills of sale than anything else.
It took him a moment to decipher the abbreviations, but when he did, he realized that the bills were of women.
That Benedict had been receiving a percentage of the funds raised for each woman he had smooth-talked into participating in the auction.
His mind flashed back to the night he’d won Ellen’s bid and how Benedict had confronted Nigel afterward.
He remembered how Ellen insisted that she had entered the auction herself, so that the funds would go solely to the auction.
It had not only provided a reason for Nigel to allow the sale to go through, Laurence realized, but had also stopped Benedict from making his usual percentage.
Ellen, without realizing it, had burned her cousin twice in that moment, depriving him not only of the satisfaction of her fear, but of his usual cut, too.
A bit of pride seethed through Laurence’s rage as he thought about that. His wife was far more clever and resourceful than even she realized.
“Laurence,” Solomon said, his tone quiet and serious.
Laurence lifted his gaze to his friend and Godric, and only then realized that he had been quiet for quite some time.
“So, Benedict does not actually have ties to the auction owner,” he said, handing the papers to Solomon.
“Afraid not,” Godric said. “He just found a way to benefit from it.
“And this will not be enough to take to the constable,” Laurence added, his irritation making the nerve in his jaw begin to tingle.
“You could try,” Godric sighed. “But as I said, you would have to be careful with who you choose to talk to. Some of those men like what is going on, and they are paid well to look the other way. And even if you would find the right man who is disgusted by such things, you would still have to prove that the women being sold were not willing to participate.”
Godric’s mouth formed a thin, grim line.
“It is a tricky matter from all angles,” he said wearily.
Laurence drew in a breath, but as his rage roiled, he could not seem to release it.
“We thank you for your help, Godric,” Solomon said after another moment of silence. “Even if it was not what we had hoped, you have shed new light on the situation.”
“Yes,” Laurence agreed, exhaling as he came back to the present. “We are grateful.”
“I am sorry it could not be more,” Godric offered as he rose to stand. “I was asked to deliver a message to your wife, by the way. I entrust you to give it to her in my stead; however, I must take my leave.”
Laurence raised a curious brow as he too rose to his feet.
“Tell her Deborah is thinking of her, and that she hopes for nothing but happiness for her. And if, in the future, this matter is ever settled, she would very much like to see her again,” Godric said.
Though he did not know quite why, Godric’s words hit Laurence hard in the stomach.
“I will be sure to tell her,” he answered quietly.
Godric gave a curt nod, his dark eyes cold and steely as he did so. A hard man, Laurence surmised, not quite comfortable with the affection he was tasked to relay.
“The garden party is in three days,” Solomon said after they’d walked Godric out.
“I have a man in the Royal Guard. I know him well; he does not approve of business such as the auction. He will find me someone from the constable’s brigade who we can trust, and be on standby for us there to arrest Benedict. ”
Laurence nodded, even as doubt settled into his mind. They did not have much in the way of proof, other than Benedict was profiteering from an unsavory venture. A venture that they could not directly point a finger at, if what Godric said about the owner’s vengeance toward Sylvester was true.
“We need to handle this carefully,” Laurence said after a moment, pausing in the hall. “I am not sure if we should involve Ellen any further.”
Solomon’s brows furrowed with frustration.
“She agreed to help us,” he retorted. “Why are you so against letting her do so?”
Because her cousin is obsessed, and I do not trust the delusion he has driven himself into.
“Benedict has been careful not to get caught,” Laurence said instead, “But he is…paranoid. I fear what he would do if he discovered our trap too early.”
Solomon’s expression softened a little, and he nodded.
“We will attend the garden party as a group then,” Solomon replied. “You stay by Ellen’s side. I shall stay by Madalene’s. We will keep them protected. We will have Benedict arrested. And this will all be over.”
“It is not enough,” Laurence snarled with quiet rage.
“Maybe not,” Solomon agreed. “But at least the man responsible for Annabel’s demise will finally be dealt with. Perhaps that is the best we can hope for.”
Solomon’s gaze flicked from Laurence’s eyes to something behind him. Laurence turned and saw Ellen standing there, her beautiful face set in an unreadable expression.
“I need to get going,” Solomon said quietly. “I will let you know if anything goes awry, but other than that, I will see you three at the garden party.”
Laurence did not respond, did not turn away from Ellen’s gaze as the door behind opened and closed, leaving the two of them alone in the foyer.
“So it is going to be over soon,” Ellen said quietly, breaking the silence.
Laurence blinked. Swallowed.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Ellen pressed her lips together as she nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“If you do not want to do this, Ellen,” Laurence began to say as he took a step toward her. Then her gaze flicked back up, so quick and cold it made him freeze.
“I do,” she said with quiet determination. “You have no idea how much I want to put my cousin behind me.”
It was the most they’d spoken since the day that she’d so bravely chased Judith away.
Laurence swallowed again, his throat bobbing as he felt disgust roiling off Ellen in waves.
“You will not need to speak to him this time,” Laurence said, feeling the need to soothe her somehow. “He just needs to see you, and be distracted by you enough that we can draw him away from the party. I will be by your side at all times. He will not hurt you again, Ellen.”
Ellen gave a curt nod.
“Very well,” she said stiffly.
Laurence winced internally at her tone. He missed her warmth. Her gentleness. Yet that gentleness brought that feral side out in him, and he had to keep it at bay.
“I suppose after my cousin is arrested, our deal will be done,” she said in that same stiff tone.
Laurence stalled as he searched for the right answer. After several tense moments, he could only say, “Yes, I suppose it will be.”
Something flickered in Ellen’s blue eyes. Something that caused pain to ripple across his chest.
“Very well, then,” Ellen answered with a single nod, her gaze dropping once more to the floor.
He should say something. Wanted to say something that would bring her comfort, but as he searched for the proper words, all he could think of was Godric’s message.
“I have a message for you,” he told her. “From our friend Deborah.”
Surprise flickered through Ellen’s eyes, pushing that guarded look away.
“Yes?” she said, her tone hopeful.
Laurence relayed Godric’s message, hoping that it would make her happy. His heart twisted with pain as nothing but sorrow filled her eyes.
“She is so very kind,” she said softly after a moment. “I hope she finds her happiness as well.”
“I am certain she has,” Laurence replied, hoping to provide her with a small comfort. “Godric says her husband worships her.”
Ellen’s smile was weak and not at all genuine.
“Good,” she choked out.
Torment. Laurence was in pure torment over everything they could not seem to say to one another.
“I am suddenly in need of rest,” Ellen said, her tone tight as she turned away from him. “Please do me the kindness of informing Madalene that I retired early, but that I will see her at breakfast in the morning.”
“Ellen,” he said, hating how quiet and weak his usually firm voice sounded.
“Goodnight, Laurence,” Ellen replied stiffly, not halting a single second on her way to the stairs.
Laurence took a step after her, his body demanding that he follow her up to her quarters.
To kiss her until they were both breathless and full of need.
To rip her dress off of her body and run his aching hands over the curves and flesh he’d been so greedy to consume, that he had yet to take the time to worship.
To tell her that he too was as consumed by his wife as Cedric was with his.
Instead, he forced that step he took back into place, and instead of following her, he moved down the hall to find Madalene.