Silk and Shadows (33 page)

Jenny nodded eagerly and followed her new mistress upstairs to the wonderful world that was going to be hers.

* * *

Alert for the sound of Mr. Slade's key, Jenny bounced out of the drawing room to meet him as soon as he entered his house. Ever since returning from Lady Sara's, she had been waiting impatiently to give him the good news.

The lawyer greeted her with a smile. "I don't need to ask how the interview went—I can see by your face that Lady Sara gave you the position."

Jenny nodded an enthusiastic confirmation. "She's lovely, and so kind. And she's not much larger than I am, and has fair coloring, and she said that most of her clothing would look good on me, if I didn't mind wearing hand-me-downs. As if I'd mind!"

Slade laughed. "This calls for a celebration. I have no champagne, but we can toast your success in Madeira."

He escorted her into the library and solemnly poured small amounts of Madeira into two glasses. Raising his glass in salute, he said, "To Jenny—may all your dreams come true.''

In spite of his genuine pleasure in her success, Slade drained the glass with a sense of melancholy. Peregrine had said that Jenny had wanted to become a lady's maid, to work for a pleasant lady whose discarded clothing would fit her, and eventually to marry a handsome footman. Now that the girl's first dreams had been realized, it was just a matter of time until the last one was. If and when a lovely girl like Jenny decided to marry, she would have her choice of husbands, in spite of her past. And they would be young, handsome men, not boring lawyers almost twenty years her senior.

Jenny had held her own glass while he toasted her. Now she raised it. "To you, Mr. Slade, for making it possible."

He was pleased but too punctilious to accept an undeserved tribute. "It is Prince Peregrine you should be toasting, for it was he who set you free."

"I surely don't mind drinking to him or his lady, but you're the one who spent time with me, showed me how proper females behave, found me a teacher, trusted me with your money, and kept saying that I could better myself." She poured more Madeira for both of them. "While the prince gave me the chance, it's you who made it mean something."

"Thank you, Jenny," he said gravely. "It has been my privilege to be of assistance."

After the toast to Peregrine and his lady, Slade asked, "When will you begin with Lady Sara?"

"Tomorrow. She is sending her carriage for me."

So soon? Slade sipped his Madeira, thinking that he had not noticed how dull the house was until she came to brighten it up. With her departure, his home would be bleak indeed, for darkness is always deeper after one has known light. "Since her ladyship is preparing her trousseau, you'll be very busy."

He hesitated, wondering if he should say more, then said simply, "I shall miss you, Jenny."

She set her glass down with a businesslike air. "I want to do something to thank you for all you've done for me."

"There's no need." He smiled a little. "Since you started practicing your skills on my wardrobe, my clothing has never looked better—everything brushed, mended, and pressed."

"That's not enough. I want to do something more-it isn't right to just take and never give." Stepping forward, she twined her arms around his neck and pressed her slim body against him. "I know that you've fancied me right from the beginning, so to show my appreciation for your kindness, I'll share your bed tonight."

For a moment, he was almost paralyzed by shock and surging desire. She was beautiful, woman-soft, fresh and sweet as an armful of flowers. And willing…

Willing because she was grateful. He removed her arms from his neck with more speed than courtesy, for if he did not move quickly, he would be unable to put her aside. "No, Jenny," he said hoarsely, "it is better not to do this."

"It's all right, Mr. Slade," she said, misunderstanding. "You never asked, but the doctor you sent me to said I'm clean, so you won't catch anything from me. I know all about preventing babies, too, and how to please a man."

"Jenny," he said with a touch of desperation, "this isn't necessary. You've already given me a great deal, more than you'll ever know."

She cocked her head. "You're being honorable, aren't you? But I'm no innocent, so it's not like you could take advantage. Spending the night with you wouldn't mean a thing to me."

If she had deliberately tried to hurt him, she could not have done a better job. It took a moment for Slade to regain his lawyer's coolness. "I know it wouldn't mean anything to you. That's why it wouldn't be right."

He kissed her lightly on the forehead, like an uncle. "Be happy, Jenny. You deserve it." He turned to leave the library, but stopped when she spoke.

"Can… can I come and visit you now and then on my half days?" she asked uncertainly. "I won't enjoy things as much if I can't tell you about them."

It would have been wiser to refuse, but he found himself saying, "I'd like that."

Then he left, thinking that it would be good to see Jenny sometimes, at least until she found her handsome footman. When she started talking about beaux, it would be time to let go. But for now, her visits would give him something to look forward to.

Long after the lawyer was gone, Jenny continued to stare at the dark wooden panels of the door as she tried to understand her sense of loss. Something had happened tonight, and she didn't quite understand what. She figured that she knew just about everything there was to know about male desire—certainly she knew that a man didn't need to care to want a woman.

But she had never known that a man could want a woman and not take her because he
did
care. There was something very fragile and precious in the idea, though she didn't really understand it. Maybe someday she would.

It was Slade's first visit to Sulgrave, and he looked around with admiration. "A very handsome place. You got more of a bargain than I realized."

Ushering his lawyer into the study, Peregrine smiled lazily. "I'm glad you approve, since you were the one who found the estate and negotiated the price. How do you manage to arrange so many things from behind the scenes?"

"It's all a matter of knowing who to ask," Slade said vaguely as he chose a seat. "Are you going to be doing any decorating or remodeling?''

"Not until after the wedding. I'm sure that Sara will want to make some changes. Only another week now." Peregrine drifted to the window and looked out. He never tired of the sight of the rolling English hills, and often rode or walked in the Downs. "Are Weldon's affairs prospering?"

Slade permitted himself a small smile as he put on his reading glasses. "Not at all. As expected, the ending of his betrothal made his bank very anxious, and I was able to buy up his debts at a substantial discount."

"Good. Notify him that if the loans aren't repaid in the next thirty days, we will foreclose on all the property mortgaged as security."

"Why not immediately?"

"Because thirty days will give Weldon more time to worry," Peregrine said in a dulcet tone.

The lawyer frowned. Even though he knew that Weldon deserved whatever he got, there was something profoundly disturbing about Peregrine's lethal pleasure in the process of destruction. Slade wondered sometimes what had set his employer on his course of vengeance, but suspected that it was better not to know. Looking back at his notes, he said, "Weldon's stock in the railway is very valuable just now. He may be able to borrow enough against that to pay off the loans."

"Only if the railway maintains its value." Peregrine turned to face the room, lounging against the window frame with arms crossed and fierce satisfaction in his eyes. "Has Weldon learned yet that Crawley sold the right-of-way to his property?"

"Not yet, but he will soon."

"When he does, it will be time to reinstate the lawsuit for greater compensation on Crawley's land, plus to file charges of criminal harassment against the company in general and Weldon in particular." Peregrine thought a moment longer. "Track laying has almost reached Crawley's property. In case Weldon decides to go ahead and build there anyhow, in spite of the lawsuits against the company, be ready to file for an injunction to stop construction."

Slade gave a nod of approval. "So even if he is finally ready to offer a fair price for Crawley's right-of-way, the company will be so tied up in lawsuits that investors will drop it like a hot coal."

"That's the general idea," Peregrine said genially. "With luck, that will push the L & S Railway into serious financial trouble." He began to prowl across the room. "One more matter—the barony that Weldon has been angling for. Have you made any progress toward thwarting that?''

"The matter has been taken care of. Several prominent members of Her Majesty's government have received packets of information detailing some of Weldon's more believable crimes." Slade smiled. "I doubt that anything will ever be said publicly, but it's a safe bet that Weldon's name will be quietly dropped from the next honors list, never to be considered again. If he tries to find out what happened, he will meet with polite vagueness. British politicians are very good at that."

Peregrine laughed out loud. "Benjamin, you're a wonder. Am I paying you enough?"

"You pay me too much," Slade said severely. "I've told you that before. You really do not have a proper respect for money."

His employer smiled. "You have enough respect for both of us. Too much, in fact—have you never learned that money is only a tool, not an end in itself?"

Immediately Slade thought of Jenny Miller. For years, money had bought her body, but there was not enough money on earth to buy what he wanted from her. Brusquely he said, "Money may not buy happiness, but it certainly makes misery a great deal more comfortable. Is there anything else you wish to discuss today?"

Peregrine studied him curiously, wondering what personal nerve had been touched by the casual words, then shrugged. Slade, who was a master of information gathering, was not at all forthcoming about his own private life. Probably he didn't have one. "No, nothing else. Thank you for coming out here today."

Slade nodded acknowledgment, then gathered his papers and left. Peregrine sat down at his desk, elation filling him. Thread by thread, the web was being completed. A pity that he could not be present when Weldon realized the full extent of the ruin facing him.

There was a secret drawer in the desk, and he opened it to take out his private file on Weldon. Soon after coming to England, Peregrine had made a list of what Weldon valued most, and it was time to evaluate the progress that had been made.

A column on the left side of the page listed
fortune, business reputation, railway, personal reputation, social standing, Lady Sara St. James, barony, daughter, life
.

Peregrine made a neat check by
fortune
and scribbled the note
private fortune gone, railway bankruptcy will ruin him
. By
business reputation
, he wrote
faltering
. Already rumors about Weldon were starting to circulate, and when the railroad crashed, his name would become anathema to the financial community.

Next to
personal reputation
, he wrote
possible newspaper exposure
? An ambitious journalist looking for instant fame might be a good channel for making public Weldon's vicious hypocrisy; when that happened, social standing and reputation would both vanish instantly.

Next to Sara's name Peregrine drew a star, for she represented his greatest success to date. Simply ending the betrothal would have been adequate; having the world know that Sara preferred a different man was better yet; but marrying her himself was pure triumph. He had entered English society, Weldon's own territory, and against all odds he had won his enemy's lady.

He wrote
gone
next to
barony
, for it sounded like Slade had taken care of that most efficiently. How long would it take before Weldon realized that the title he lusted after would never be his? Weeks at least, perhaps longer; appropriate that the misery of uncertainty would precede the pain of loss.

He frowned at the entry
daughter;
as with Sara, the trick was to remove the girl from Weldon without damaging her. The question had taken on added weight since Eliza had just gone back to her father's house. When Weldon was dead, Peregrine guessed she would return to the custody of her aunt and uncle, who were decent people. The girl also had an inheritance from her mother that Weldon couldn't touch, so her future should be secure.

But how could she be used to injure her father now? The girl had a special place in Weldon's heart; possibly she was the only person for whom he had any unselfish affection. Peregrine frowned at the list for a long time. Then an idea came to him, and a wolfish smile spread across his face.

Over the year, Weldon had been responsible for destroying the lives of countless young girls; how would he react to the news that his own cherished daughter had been kidnapped and installed in a brothel? He would tear the London underworld apart trying to find her, increasingly desperate, for he would know exactly what his protected child would be suffering at the hands of bastards like himself.

Peregrine would not actually send the girl to a brothel; for the purpose of vengeance, it was only necessary that Weldon
believe
his daughter was in a whorehouse.