Lisbon: Richard and Rose, Book 8 (22 page)

So I told her.

“John Kneller didn’t get on the ship that was supposed to take him away,” I said. “Richard arranged to have him pressed, but they lied. Took someone else after he escaped. We’ve only just discovered that. After the events of the spring, he might have decided to give up his plotting. He barely got away with his life that time.”

Lizzie gasped. “So he’s back?”

Richard didn’t put his hand over mine—he joined me on my sofa and curved his arm around my shoulders. “John could be here, or he could be in London, directing the affair. We’re trying to find out for certain.”

Tension tightened my stomach. I stared at Richard, and he met my gaze with a solemn one of his own. He knew I was thinking of his son, the man who wanted Richard destroyed above all men in the world. Not just dead, but
destroyed
, so it would be typical of him to attack Richard’s loved ones first.

He had the same thought as I did. “That request I made of you? Now it’s a command. Until we clear up this matter you are to go nowhere, in or out of the house, without company.”

I would do that for his sake. “But it has to go both ways. You must agree to it, or I will not. The children will be guarded at all times, of course, but I reserve the right to move about at my own discretion.”

He knew more and he hadn’t told me. I wouldn’t allow that.

“You really think Kneller is capable of committing these crimes? Going to these lengths?” My sister had met him when he’d visited Devonshire, our home county, and tried to charm our sister Ruth to his side, as well as threatening my life repeatedly. She should know from that experience what lengths Kneller would go to.

“It’s like him,” I said. “It’s his habit to attack his enemies at their weakest point, and I am Richard’s weak point. As are the children.”

Her gasp echoed around the shockingly silent room. I could understand her reluctance to believe the lengths John would go to, to get his way. Until faced with the cold, hard reality of the man Richard had fathered, it was hard to believe anyone would do this. But Kneller delighted in controlling people, being the puppet master. Privately, I thought he was aware he was missing something, natural affection, the ability to link and communicate with people. So he despised them and thought of them merely as ciphers, not equal to himself.

“We thought we’d sent him to the navy, across the ocean,” Richard said. “But he has considerable personal charm and a wiliness of character that people don’t expect in one so young. He sometimes works through agents. He has done it before. He has caught many people out. His crowning glory is his ruthlessness. He will kill without hesitation.” He paused. “It’s what makes him so dangerous. That and a willingness to sacrifice anything for revenge. Including, I’m guessing, his own life.”

An appalled silence fell again. I felt obliged to break it. “He could have decided that revenge isn’t worth the candle. He’s spent his fortune and someone else’s trying to achieve it. Perhaps he’s finally realised it’s not worth wasting his life on.” A desperate thought, but if Kneller had considered power and influence worth pursuing, rather than revenge for something that had not been Richard’s fault, then he might give up his campaign against us.

Richard shook his head. “I doubt it. We know he evaded the men sent to press him. We know that the real merchant, Barber, was killed and the letter stolen along with a number of other items. So I want John’s whereabouts confirmed to me, and I want to repeat what I tried to do before. Only this time I will make sure of it. Personally. But until we know, I want my wife closely guarded.”

“How much time before we know?” I demanded.

“About three weeks to get a reply from London, I think,” he said.

That sounded reasonable. “Very well, for the next month I promise to take special care and only go about accompanied.” It seemed fair, to allay his worries, and he would have more liberty to investigate the murders. “But you must promise to take care too.”

“I promise.” We exchanged a long look.

I narrowed my eyes. He’d given in too easily. Richard hated being trammelled, and on the few occasions I had insisted on it, he had responded with an uncharacteristic irritation. Well, he could learn to bear it, and so would I.

Paul turned to Lizzie. “You too. I do not care if he regards you as collateral or as a prime target, you will not allow yourself your usual freedoms.”

Lizzie laughed. “The arrogance of husbands!” She straightened in her chair. “I will take every precaution, of course, but I won’t allow anyone to curtail my freedom. And I will not cower from danger.”

“But you will take care,” he persisted.

Her voice softened. “Of course I will. I swear it.”

Paul’s lips quirked into a smile. “Thank you. English women have a reputation for forthrightness and an independence of thought. It was what first attracted me to them. Now I have one of my own, I don’t intend for her to get away from me easily.”

“I want to go to Lisbon,” Richard said. “To ensure the house we have there is properly set up and guarded. I’ll check every door, every window and only my own servants will wait on us there.” He glanced around, at the large windows that could be flung open in summer to catch every stray breeze. “This
palacio
is very beautiful, but not very defendable.” His level of anxiety was understandable. He was not merely taking care of us, he was taking care of himself.

“So once you know we are safe, you can set about finding him?”

“Exactly.”

“So we are to prepare ourselves for a journey.” I forced a smile, but I felt my lips tremble.

“You want to be somewhere you can control.” Lizzie sighed. “I understand. But come back when you know, won’t you?”

Paul put his hand over hers and squeezed. “I will have to call the authorities and inform them of the death. Otherwise rumours will spread. I want them to consider it an accident, for now, and I’ve presented it as such. Bad cream in the sweet.” He glanced at Richard. “So what are we left with?”

Richard sighed. “We have several possibilities.” He ticked them off on his fingers one by one. “Barber. John Kneller through Barber. A series of coincidences, something I consider extremely unlikely. But the lemon cream was poisoned, and two people in this house are known to be particularly fond of that dish.”
Was fond,
I thought, but I said nothing. Richard continued. “When my wife and children are involved, I take no chances. While I’m almost sure Kneller is responsible for this recent attack, we can’t discount other possibilities.”

A moment of fraught silence ensued, one I had no inclination to break.

Paul spoke first, his tones frigid as ice. “You suspect Joaquin?”

“We know of his history,” Richard said gently. “That he is your elder brother. I also know that the Catholic church can be somewhat
flexible
when it comes to marriage decisions. Rose may not have been the principal target of the poisoner.”

If that was so, then the accident on board could be considered an accident, and the strangling due to something else. Falling out between lovers, greed or something else. But if the poisoning was not of Joaquin’s doing, then the series of incidents, plus even the sickness on board during our journey, could form part of a sickening chain. I wanted Joaquin guilty, God help me.

Paul rose to his feet. In his glittering clothes, the colours darker than the ones Richard preferred but no less magnificent, he stood tall and forbidding. “I would not have thought that you, above all people, would have doubted the bond that exists between brothers. Joaquin is without question innocent of this.” He crossed the room to the window, turned and came back, the only reason for his perambulation, I suspected, to regain control over a temper I had not suspected him of possessing.

Lizzie watched him carefully, but not with an apprehension that might have indicated that she’d been the recipient of his anger at any time. Concern for him showed in her gaze before she turned her attention to us.

“Believe me, Joaquin did not do this, or have any knowledge of it. He doesn’t wish to be marquês. That was his mother, whose bitterness and ambition eventually drove him away.”

Paul returned to the sofa and took her hand, gazing down at his wife in a manner that revealed his love for her. “Joaquin has no wish to usurp my position and was the first to congratulate us when our child was born. He was relieved. His mother wrecked his early life, and while I understand what she did, Joaquin has steadfastly refused to challenge the decision of the courts.” When Lizzie tugged his hand, he sat next to her once more, a little closer, retaining her tight clasp. “I am sure enough of him to know that if you investigate, you will find nothing. I will even help you, should you wish it.”

I was astonished. For Paul, a man of good sense, to say this, he must have good reason. We had to trust him in this matter. Richard liked him and so did I. Paul was a man of honour, and a man who didn’t take his responsibilities lightly. He’d known Joaquin for most of his life. It was enough for me.

Richard shook his head. “From what you say, it won’t be necessary to investigate. Would you trust Joaquin with the care of your wife and children?”

“I not only do, but I have done so in the past. I have no compunction in leaving Joaquin to ensure her safety. He has engaged personal servants for us, offered the hospitality of his home. Any arguments you may witness between us are because we are both hotheads.”

That came as news to me. I had never thought of Paul as a hothead. At one point, I didn’t think his cold reserve boded well for a marriage with my passionate sister. “You concur, Lizzie?”

She nodded. “He is a man with a deep sense of honour. He’s spoken to me of his mother. It grieved him to leave her, but he could not allow her to speak of his family in that way. True, his father did wrong in having his marriage put aside, but Joaquin didn’t want to usurp Paul. He saw the responsibilities associated with the title, and he agreed that Paul was more suited for the role. He has little patience with court affairs. He cares only for his vines and the development of good wines. You have heard him speak of his passion. You know this.”

Richard glanced at me, and I inclined my head. I would trust my sister, a woman in which deep passion and shrewd common sense held a perfect balance. “Then we will not pursue that line of enquiry.” A man’s word was his bond, and both Paul and Richard had just given theirs.

“I want that merchant brought to justice,” Paul said.

Richard nodded. “As do I.” He lifted his head and gave Lizzie a piercing look. “That revelation has just made things easier. I still wish to remove to the Lisbon house until we have resolved the matter, but this gives me a chance to ensure the house there is ready to receive us, and to further my enquiries. I will go tomorrow.”

“I would come with you,” Paul said. “I know the authority you have in your own country, but I have authority here. Portugal is a land where the formal approach is preferred. I can open doors and command attention.”

Richard didn’t pause for a moment. “Then I accept. Thank you. But I don’t wish to leave my wife and children unprotected.”

“Joaquin,” Paul reminded him.

Then there was a pause, but only while Richard bit his lip, frowning. “We may come back the next day, the day after tomorrow.”

“That is Sunday, All Saints’ Day. It is an important day in the calendar. Everyone will be at church, and some will not travel or do any work on that day. It wouldn’t look well if I didn’t attend at least one service, also.”

Lizzie turned to him with a rustle of silk, immediately concerned. “Should I come? Do you wish to be seen with your wife at your side?”

“It’s not essential, and I would rather you stayed here, where you are safer. I think you can be slightly unwell and attend a service here, if you wish.”

Lizzie had converted to Catholicism. As she said to me at the time, “It doesn’t matter to me in what way I worship God, and it would make things much easier for Paul. Why should I worry if they burn incense or not?”

Of course the matter was far more complex, but trust my sister to see through all the politics and the scheming surrounding the various religions to find the truth of the matter. Turning Catholic would ally her with the Jacobites, for one thing, and I would wager they had been in touch with her. Since Culloden, they’d been desperate to reclaim some kind of power in Europe. But my sister would claim to have no interest and send them away.

“I doubt I’ll be attending with you,” Richard said, “but I might seek out an Anglican church. It would be a good idea if I nailed my colours to the mast.” It would indeed. It would save us a heap of Jacobite petitioners calling at our door, thinking they had some ingress.

I had never felt the need to attend church every day and twice on Sundays, being content with a single attendance on the Sabbath, but I would forego the pleasure this time. “I shan’t be attending,” I told him, “so I need to be very good until I can reach a church, do I not?”

Richard burst into laughter at the arch smile I sent him. “Minx,” he declared with wholehearted conviction. “You will be very good indeed and take care to obey your husband in every way.”

Paul brought us back down to earth. “It is a shame, because officials will be at home with their families. We may have to stay until Monday at least.”

“If we don’t achieve what we want to tomorrow.” Richard made a decision, firm in his resolve. “We’ll leave early and try to get the business done in a day. I want to check the manifests for the ships in port, and I want to find and hold Barber, by whatever means I can.”