Silk and Shadows (21 page)

Peregrine smiled, amused. Jenny might have seen what she claimed, but he considered it more likely that she had made the incident up as a way of getting back at Weldon. Better not to mention the latter possibility to Benjamin, who might be shocked at the prospect of someone lying under oath. Peregrine was less scrupulous; all he cared about was that if the girl lied, she would do it convincingly, and he suspected that she would. As he knew from experience, it was hard to be overconcerned with the niceties of the law when one has lived outside it. "I imagine that all this information has cost a fortune in bribes."

"I prefer not to use the term
bribe
," Slade said blandly, "but, yes, substantial amounts have been expended. You did give me the authority.''

"I'm not complaining. Spend whatever is necessary." Though Peregrine seldom smoked, he leaned forward and took a cigar from the box on his host's desk. "Were you able to establish if Weldon is involved with those ships I told you to investigate?"

Slade nodded, his gray eyes like chipped ice. "I was. The ownership is indirect, and I had to follow a convoluted trail through several sham companies. However, because of the laws and government registrations involved, his guilt can be proved beyond doubt, unlike most of the brothel ownerships."

As exultation surged through him, Peregrine trimmed the end of the cigar. So he was right—his enemy was as evil as expected, and stupid or arrogant enough to leave a trail for anyone clever enough to know where to look. "What about Weldon's legitimate businesses?"

"Though he has a reputation for wealth and success, the reality is rather different. He's undeniably clever, but too often rash. If it were not for the income from his illegal enterprises, he might have gone bankrupt some time ago." The lawyer opened a new file. "In the last eighteen months, he has made a number of bad decisions and is now overdue on repaying several personal loans. The bank holding his paper is nervous, but assumes he will recover soon. It helps that Weldon recently announced his betrothal to an heiress, Lady Sara St. James. They will marry quite soon. Perhaps you have met her at one of your social affairs? She's the only child of the Duke of Haddonfield."

"I've met her." Eyes narrowed, Peregrine lifted the shade from the candle lamp and lit his cigar. "What would it do to Weldon's financial situation if the betrothal ended?"

Slade's brows rose. "It certainly wouldn't help him. Do you have reason to believe the marriage will not take place?"

"I'm sure it will not." The prince drew in a mouthful of smoke, then slowly exhaled it. "You may drop a few discreet hints in financial circles that Lady Sara, who is a woman of taste and perception, is in the process of reconsidering her decision to marry Weldon."

The lawyer regarded him thoughtfully. "I have a feeling that the less I know about that, the better. Rest assured that soon it will be known that Weldon might not receive the financial settlement he is planning on. Of course, he can find another heiress, but these things take time, even for a handsome man with a distinguished reputation."

Peregrine tapped the cigar on the edge of the glass ashtray and watched the charred tobacco fall off. "Once the marriage is in doubt, do you think that the bank holding Weldon's loans might be interested in selling them to someone else?"

"Quite possibly. But if you buy Weldon's loans, you will take a heavy loss if he doesn't recover."

"I don't care," Peregrine said brusquely. "I want those loans. Buy them through that dummy company you set up so that my name isn't associated. Now what about the L & S Railway?"

"Taking it over is the cleverest thing Weldon has done in years," Slade said, unable to withhold an approving nod. "The financial community is very excited about the new management and the company's prospects. When new stock is issued next week, it should sell quickly. You'll make a good profit on the money you invested."

"Did you find out the true story on the legal problems Weldon told me about?"

"I was coming to that." The lawyer gave him a reproving look for his impatience. "As you know, the parliamentary bill that incorporates a railroad says that the company can take the land it needs in return for proper compensation. The original L & S management was undercapitalized to begin with, so they tried to appropriate land for less than a fair price. Not surprisingly, a number of landowners filed suit for more money, led by a yeoman farmer in Hampshire named Jethro Crawley. There was considerable bitterness between the company and the landowners."

Slade peered over his glasses. "This is where it gets interesting. Though it isn't commonly known, Crawley dropped his lawsuit after a mysterious fire on his farm. A most unfortunate incident. Someone died, I believe. After Weldon took the railroad over, a number of the other landowners settled their cases for amounts of money not much greater than they had been offered in the first place."

Peregrine thought about it. "Do you think that Crawley was the victim of arson, and most of the other landowners decided to take what money they could get rather than risk the same thing happening to them?"

"It is certainly a possibility," Slade agreed. "I thought I'd go down to Hampshire this week and talk to Jethro Crawley, see if I could learn what really happened."

"I want to do that myself." Peregrine drew in a mouthful of smoke, then blew out several perfect smoke rings. "If he hasn't formally signed over the railroad right-of-way to the L & S, perhaps he will sell it to us instead. It would have to be done through another dummy investment company, so Weldon won't know who is behind it until it's too late."

"Then what?" Slade said, looking alarmed.

Peregrine's eyes gleamed. "Weldon will find himself with a new lawsuit on his hands, possibly accompanied by criminal charges that the railway has been brutally intimidating innocent landowners. Wouldn't the newspapers love that? It would make a lovely scandal and probably bring construction of the railroad to a halt again."

Slade frowned. "You've invested a sizable fortune in the L & S. If you mean to block construction, it will be very expensive for you and a lot of other people as well."

"No matter." Peregrine cut the lawyer off from further warnings with a chopping motion of his cigar. "Have we anything else to discuss tonight?"

"The seller of Sulgrave is eager for a quick settlement, so the sale should be closed within a week.''

"The sooner the better. Have you had any luck at finding a suitable Mayfair town house?"

"An excellent furnished house on Park Street is available for rent. It belongs to a nobleman who is going abroad for a year. It's expensive but very elegant. Do you want to look at it?"

Peregrine shook his head. "If you think it is suitable, just go ahead and rent it. I am weary of hotel living." He gazed absently at the bright coal on the end of the cigar, remembering another item of unfinished business. "How is Jenny Miller?"

Slade's eyes warmed. "You would hardly recognize the girl. She's amazingly quick—understands and remembers everything she's told. Her East End accent is almost gone."

Peregrine heard a faint sound at the door of the study, as if a mouse had brushed by. Gesturing for Slade to keep talking, he set his cigar in the ashtray, then rose and crossed the room on soundless feet.

The lawyer watched in puzzlement as he continued, "I've found a woman who was lady's maid to a countess. She is willing to train Miss Miller in the skills required for such a position."

Peregrine threw the door open and was unsurprised when Jenny almost fell into the room. Her eyes widened with terror at being caught. She made a small, desperate sound and whirled away, but he caught her arm and turned her to face him.

The girl looked her true age now that she was dressed as a woman, not a child. In her demure chignon and modest blue gown, she might have been the daughter of a successful lawyer or doctor, or even a vicar. Hard to believe that such a pretty, respectable young lady had spent years imprisoned in a brothel.

Mildly Peregrine asked, "Were our voices loud enough for you, or should we repeat what was said?"

"I didn't hear anything," she protested, trembling in his grip. "I was just coming down to see if Mr. Slade might like me to make him a cup of tea, like I usually do in the evenings."

"That's true," Benjamin put in. "Don't frighten the child. There's no harm done."

Ignoring the interruption, Peregrine said, "Don't lie to me, Jenny." He escorted her into the study. "I've heard you rustling at the door almost since I arrived. Have a seat."

Nervously the girl perched on a straight-backed chair. She glanced at Slade, who smiled reassuringly, then looked up at Peregrine, who towered over her. His gaze holding hers, he said, "I'm sure that you are excellent at spying and eavesdropping, and those skills have helped you survive. I'm equally sure that you won't stop any time soon. I don't really object, but I want your solemn promise that you will not use anything you learn against me or my friends. Also, if you ever hear something I might be interested in, you will inform me of it. Is that clear?''

Her eyes widened. Then she nodded. "I promise.I'd never do anything to hurt you or Mr. Slade. I—I just like to know what's going on. All those spy holes in Mrs. Kent's house could be used in both directions, and I was small enough to get into places she'd never think to look, I learned a lot that way.''

"No doubt," he said dryly as he picked up his still-smouldering cigar. "Do you have any requests, comments, or complaints to make before I leave?"

"Oh, no." She shook her shining blond head emphatically. "Mr. Slade has been ever so good to me. These last few weeks have been the best of my life. I'm looking forward to learning how to be a lady's maid. I'll be a good one."

"I don't doubt it." Dismissing her from his mind, Peregrine took a last pull at his cigar before stubbing it out. "Do we have anything else to discuss, Benjamin? ''

"No." The lawyer handed over a thick folder. "Here are complete details of everything I summarized tonight. I trust you'll find them interesting."

The prince accepted the folder, bade them both a polite good night, then left. After the door closed behind him, Jenny shook her head. "He's a strange one, he is. Seems to hear and know everything, and never does what you expect. Makes me nervous as a cat on a griddle."

"That's a rather tactless way to refer to your benefactor, though I must admit that I know how you feel," Slade said with a faint smile. "But if you don't cross him you couldn't ask for a better employer or friend."

"I honest to God wouldn't want him for an enemy, '' she said with a shiver. Then she smiled at the lawyer, her delicate face lighting up with sweetness. "I'd much rather have you for a friend. You don't scare a body to death." She stood. "Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?''

"I'd like that very much." As she brushed by his chair, Slade half raised his hand, then let it drop, but his longing gaze followed her out of the room. Then he turned to his papers, his mouth tight. He had done many difficult things for his employer, but he had never realized that the hardest task would be turning a whore into a young lady.

Crawley's farm was solid and unpretentious, the stone buildings mellowed with years and weather. The only whimsical note was the thatched roof of the house, where a reed fox chased three reed chickens along the ridgepole. But the thatch was old and ragged, and the fox threatened to topple from the ridgepole, just one of many subtle signs of neglect, as if the farm had fallen on hard times.

No one was in sight, so Peregrine dismounted and knocked on the door. After a lengthy wait, it was opened by a middle-aged woman. Her round face had been designed for cheerfulness, but there were haggard lines around her mouth, and anxiety in her eyes when she found a gentleman on her doorstep.

"Mrs. Crawley?" Peregrine asked. When she nodded, he continued, "I want to speak with your husband. Is he available?"

"Aye," she said reluctantly. "Should be behind the stables."

"Thank you." He touched his hat and was starting to turn when a little girl peered around her mother's skirts, only to be pulled hastily back and the door closed. Something was definitely wrong at Crawley's farm.

Unhurriedly Peregrine made his way across the farmyard to the stables. The right side of the yard was bounded by the charred ruins of the barn that had burned the year before. The stone walls could be salvaged and the barn rebuilt, but that would be an expensive proposition, and there was little money in evidence around him.

Behind the stables, Jethro Crawley sat on a mushroom-shaped staddle stone, painstakingly repairing a broken harness with strips of new leather. As Peregrine approached, the burly farmer looked up, his hands becoming still and his eyes wary. Brusquely he asked, "What do you want?"

"I want to talk about the lawsuit you filed against the L& S Railway."

"I got nothin' to say to you." Crawley's gaze went back to the harness, and he stabbed a heavy needle through a hole punched in the leather.

"Once you didn't mind talking about the subject. You spoke to a couple of dozen landowners, convincing them that the railroad was not offering a fair price. Then there was a fire here, and suddenly you dropped your lawsuit. Without your leadership, all the other litigants settled quickly. I've been wondering why."

Crawley stood, fury in his blue-gray eyes. And under the anger was fear. "I don't have to answer that, you bastard. You and your kind have done enough to me. Now get off my land!"