Silk and Shadows (40 page)

"Probably about eight o'clock, but tell her to prepare something that won't be injured by reheating in case my husband returns later than he planned." Sara drew her riding gloves on as she stood on the bottom step. "You've done a wonderful job since your arrival, Gates. My husband said just yesterday that the household is running like a fine clock."

The butler gave a small, satisfied smile. "A pleasure to be of service. It's a small return for what the St. James family and Prince Peregrine have done for me."

Mildly curious, Sara said, "You have done as much for the St. Jameses as we have done for you, but what has my husband done? You've only just met him."

"I expect you know what it is like in the servants' hall, my lady—considerable information is exchanged. There was much discussion about the prince below stairs when it was announced that you were marrying him." Gates's smile became downright smug. "Someone had learned that he is a major shareholder in the new L & S Railway. I decided that if the company was good enough for Lady Sara's husband, it was good enough for me. So I invested my savings in the stock.''

Sara frowned. "My husband invests in many businesses and does not expect them all to be successful. I hate to think that your savings might be jeopardized if the L & S doesn't do well.''

"But it's doing splendidly," he assured her. "The value of the stock I bought has already gone up by almost half."

"I don't know anything about finance," Sara said dryly, "but surely a stock that goes up that quickly can go down just as fast. Perhaps you should sell now and take your profit."

"It will only go higher, my lady. Railroads are the way of the future." He looked vastly pleased with himself. "When I retire from service, the L & S will buy me a nice little hostelry in a south-coast town where the wind is easier on old bones."

One of the parlor maids entered the hall, and Gates immediately returned to his impassive manner. An upper servant might talk to his mistress with some freedom, but never in the presence of his inferiors.

Sara walked to the stables, thinking that the day had certainly begun rather strangely. But her good mood was restored by the ride along the Downs to Chapel-gate. She was mounted on a superb, sweet-tempered sorrel mare that her husband had given her as a wedding gift, and the day was glorious, with the tang of coming autumn. Though the world was an imperfect place, her particular corner of it could not be better.

Ross strolled down the front steps to greet her when she rode up to Chapelgate. "Bless you, Sara. You have arrived just in time to save me from deciding whether I must throw out all of the last chapter."

She rolled her eyes in mock horror. "What, and deprive the world of some of your golden prose?"

"I suspect there is more dross than gold in this case." Her cousin raised his arms, and Sara slid down into them, then handed the mare's reins to the groom who had accompanied her.

The cousins climbed the steps together, Ross's arm around Sara's shoulder. "I don't have to ask what you think of marriage—I can see canary feathers all around you."

Sara laughed. "Marriage is wonderful," she agreed, unable to prevent a blushing smile from spreading over her face.

He glanced down, his brown eyes serious. "No regrets?"

"No regrets," she replied. "Mikahl may be complicated and mysterious, but he could not treat me any better than he does."

Her cousin sighed. "Honeymoons don't last forever."

"Of course not," she agreed. "But how many people ever know two weeks of perfect happiness? No matter what happens in the future, I will always have that." She gave him a shrewd glance. "Because you introduced him to me, you feel responsible for whether or not I'm happy. But you must stop worrying—for better or worse, the future is for me and Mikahl to work out. If I end up miserable, it won't be your fault."

"Wise words, but impossible to follow," Ross said with amusement as he opened the door. "You'll just have to stay happy to spare me from guilt."

Sara stepped into the hall and removed her veiled riding hat. "We're going up to London in a few days. The Little Season is starting, and I want to show my glorious husband off."

Ross grinned. "Does that mean that Mother has prevailed on you to go to Cousin Leticia's ball?"

"That's part of the reason," Sara admitted as she handed her hat and riding crop to the butler. "I haven't seen Letty in donkey's years, but since she is launching her daughter, I suppose I should be present. Exactly the sort of affair I hate: very large,very noisy, very boring." She smiled again. "Mikahl says that I have more cousins than anyone he's ever met, but he is very amiable about escorting me to such functions. Besides, he has business in town, I want to buy some things for the house, Father wants Mikahl to be presented at court, and there are other parties. We'll probably stay for a fortnight or so. Are you going to Letty's ball also?"

When Ross gave an exaggerated shudder, Sara said, "Foolish question. As if anyone could withstand Aunt Marguerite."

"Mother keeps muttering that I am turning into a hermit, and that it is her duty to drag me into society regularly. I'm beginning to mink it's time to take another trip. Constantinople first, then perhaps down through the Levant."

Sara repressed a twinge; exploration of the world's wilder places was a dangerous business. But she understood her cousin's need to roam, and she would not try to stop him, any more than his parents did. Those who loved Ross knew that an empty society life in England would soon drive him mad.

First Jenny, then Gates, and now Ross. As Sara led the way into the drawing room, she realized that her honeymoon was over. She and Mikahl might enjoy each other just as much tonight as on the previous nights, but they were part of the world again.

Peregrine dropped his hat negligently on a table when he entered Slade's office, but his offhand manner was pure fiction. Inside, he vibrated with excitement. "Good morning, Benjamin. I was delighted to hear that the die has been cast. How is the City reacting to news of the volley of lawsuits that hit the L & S Railway yesterday?"

"The stock lost half its value this morning, and is still dropping like a stone." Slade pushed his chair back and laced his fingers across his midriff. "Investors would have been able to take the compensation suit calmly, and perhaps even the injunction barring construction over Crawley's land. But the charges of harassment of landowners and manslaughter in the death of Jimmy Crawley have terrified them. The only thing worse would have been if there had been enough evidence to have Weldon arrested outright."

"Splendid." Peregrine sat down and crossed his legs casually. "Absolutely splendid."

"That is a downright unnatural attitude for a man who has just lost forty thousand pounds and stands to lose considerably more," Slade complained.

"The satisfaction it brings me is cheap at the price. Are there any other developments?"

"I understand that Hammersley's bank was about to lend Weldon enough money to pay off the notes you hold, but with the decline in value of the railway stock, I'd be surprised if the bank doesn't withdraw." The lawyer pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If he wants to avoid default, he will have to go either to a friend or the moneylenders."

"Or perhaps Weldon may blackmail someone who has been particularly indiscreet in one of his whorehouses," Peregrine said cynically.

"Does the idea of that bother you?" Slade asked. "To think that some poor devil might be crucified because of the financial pressure you're putting on Weldon?"

"A man should be willing to live by his deeds," Peregrine said, unimpressed. "Only a scoundrel or a hypocrite can be blackmailed. Perhaps Weldon's death struggles will flush another few scoundrels from the shrubbery."

The lawyer toyed with his pen. "You've got Weldon where you want him. You've broken up his betrothal and married the woman who would have been his wife, destroyed his hopes of a title, and pushed him over the financial brink. But have you thought about the consequences if he learns that you are behind his troubles? He could be a very dangerous man."

"I
expect
him to learn that," Peregrine said cordially. "Indeed, I want him to know. Vengeance would be less satisfying if it were blind."

The lawyer looked up sharply. "That's a cavalier attitude. What if he strikes back at you through Lady Sara?"

"Do you think I cannot protect my wife?" Peregrine said, his voice going ice-cold.

"Do you mean to keep her prisoner? In London particularly, anyone can be at risk from a marksman with a good rifle," Slade pointed out, his voice equally cold. "Can you protect her without her discovering some of the truth, or don't you care if she learns of your feud?" He scowled. "For that matter, she has already been an unwitting pawn in this lethal little game of yours—do you really care if she becomes an innocent victim?"

Pure rage swept through Peregrine. "You go too far, Slade," he said furiously, slamming his palm down on the lawyer's desk. "What's the matter, do you fear for your own precious hide?"

"Some," the lawyer said, refusing to be intimidated. "I have covered my tracks as well as possible, working through a chain of intermediaries, but a determined investigator could find me, and through me, you."

Slade pushed back his chair and tossed his pen on the desk, where it landed with a flat rattle. "You saved me from disaster in India, Mikahl, and in return I've served you to the best of my abilities. But I'm a lawyer, not a soldier, and frankly I have no great desire to be a martyr to your obsession. And what about members of your household, like Jenny Miller? Or friends of yours, like Lord Ross Carlisle? Or your wife's father? Can you protect them all?"

Furious though he was, Peregrine could not deny the wisdom of Slade's words. For too many years he had walked alone, needing to be concerned for only his own survival. But since arriving in England, he had fallen prey to a sticky web of relationships: friends, dependents, relatives by marriage.

And Sara. If Weldon wanted to hurt Peregrine, Sara was the logical target, for Weldon already hated her for her betrayal. Gentle Sara, who had only the vaguest knowledge of the evil men could do.

The thought of what Weldon might do made Peregrine's blood chill. It was time for another change of plan. "Find half a dozen men who are trained in arms to act as guards. Former soldiers by preference, men who are not easily bribed. I'll make loyalty worth their while."

But that was only a partial answer; Slade was right, it was impossible to completely protect Sara short of keeping her locked in a tower, which she would not like. And if Weldon could not get at Sara directly, he might strike at those Sara loved, for hurting Sara would hurt Peregrine. There were too many people involved, particularly since it would be best to keep this business a secret. With a sigh, he reached an inevitable conclusion. "I suppose I must end my cat-and-mouse game more quickly than I had planned."

"The sooner the better," Slade agreed.

A few minutes more were spent discussing other business. Then Peregrine left.

After his departure, Slade spent a long time staring out the window, his face dark with foreboding. He could not help but feel that his employer's carefully orchestrated vengeance might spin awry in the final phases. Peregrine might be playing cat and mouse, but Weldon was more a rat than a mouse. And a cornered rat with nothing to lose was a vicious creature indeed.