Silk and Shadows (47 page)

Sara leaned her head against the back of the chair. "So many things make sense now," she said quietly. "For example, you said that you never belonged where you were born, and you did not even want to belong there. Now I understand why."

"No one with a choice would ever return to the poverty and violence of the East End." His eyes narrowed. "Any comments, now that you've heard the story of my unsavory origins?''

Not an easy question to answer. Groping for the right words, she said, "While you have become a citizen of the world, I like the fact that you spent your formative years here in England. It makes you seem more comprehensible. Less alien.''

His mouth quirked humorlessly. "Aren't you shocked to learn that you, the daughter of a duke, have been sharing your bed with a cockney bastard?"

"My life has been one shock after another ever since I met you, so learning that you were born in London isn't worth much more than a raised eyebrow," she said tartly. "The only reason I mentioned 'suitable rank' earlier was because Drina is very conscious of birth, and I wanted to say something that would convince her to decide in your favor."

His face hardened again. "She will not be amused if she discovers that a bastard commoner was formally presented to her."

Exasperated, Sara said, "Mikahl, the founder of the noble house of St. James was a cockney actress called Nellie James, who was one of the many mistresses of Charles II. She was a round-heeled wench, and Charles had some doubts about whether he was actually the father of her son. Being a generous man, he compromised by making the boy an earl rather than a duke, which is what he did for some of the sons he was more sure of."

"Really?" Mikahl asked, startled.

"Really. The first few Earl St. Jameses were notable mostly for their ability to marry daughters of rich merchants. My great-grandfather Nigel was a clever fellow who must have inherited some business ability from the maternal side of his family. Nigel developed a swamp on the edge of London into a community of expensive squares and houses, and was created Duke of Haddonfield for his efforts. He also made vast amounts of money, which enabled my father to marry for love rather than fortune. My mother came from a family of respectable, but impoverished, Scottish gentry—no grand aristocrats in that branch of the Montgomeries, just farmers and soldiers."

Mikahl shook his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I presume your father knows all this family history."

"Of course, though he prefers not to dwell on Nellie James. I once found a picture of her in an old book. She was not at all a respectable-looking wench."

"Charles probably wouldn't have liked her if she was."

"Very true." Sara sighed. "Since meeting you, I've discovered that I have more than a dash of the old girl's blood in me. But think about it, Mikahl. I, too, am descended from a cockney and a bastard, as well as assorted tradesmen and farmers, so stop prickling like a hedgehog about your background."

"A hedgehog." He blinked. "I stand corrected. Your ancestors sound more disreputable than mine."

Sara smiled back at him, but the moment of levity ebbed away. "There is a great deal you haven't mentioned," she said quietly. "Such as how you got from shipboard to caravan, and what is between you and Charles Weldon."

"I know. I owe you an explanation." Her husband closed his eyes, a spasm of exhaustion crossing his face. "It is going to be… very difficult to explain. I would rather not do it tonight, though I will try if you ask it of me."

It was a measure of how much the events of the evening had drained Mikahl that he would make that oblique request for her to be patient. Sara had also had quite enough drama for one night; more might shatter them both.

Rising from her chair, she went to her husband and slipped her arms around his neck. When he opened his eyes again, she saw that they were gray-green with strain.

Laying her cheek against his, she whispered, "Another time, Mikahl. Now let's go to bed. And tomorrow, please take me home to Sulgrave.''

He pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Ah, God, Sara," he murmured, his voice unsteady, "what have I done to deserve you?"

She did not answer, just closed her eyes and relaxed against him, profoundly grateful that they had weathered this storm.

Perhaps their marriage might have a future. In the weeks since the wedding, they had shared laughter and talk and astonishing physical pleasure. But never had Sara felt more married than at this moment.

Weldon was in a blazing rage when he arrived at his house. He had told the truth about the sly bastard and been humiliated for his pains, in front of the queen and the cream of London society. While Peregrine was the root of the problem, he could not have carried off his imposture without the help of Lady Sara and Lord Ross. They had told barefaced lies in support of Peregrine, and they would pay. By God, they would pay. Weldon had already intended to wreak vengeance on Sara, but now he added Ross Carlisle to the list of those who must be punished.

Though it was past midnight, he summoned Kane. Within ten minutes Kane appeared, fully dressed and showing no signs of sleepiness. Fleetingly Weldon wondered if the man ever slept, or whether he really was the passionless, blue-eyed weapon that he always appeared to be.

Wasting no time, Weldon said, "I've found that the man who calls himself Peregrine is behind all of my current problems.
All
of them. He came to England to destroy me. He must die."

"Easily done." Kane did not even blink. "When— tomorrow? And do you have any particular method in mind, or can I do whatever is easiest?"

Such ready acquiescence made Weldon pause to think the matter through. "Better to wait a few days," he decided. "I need to learn how wide a net the bastard has cast. Set watchers on his houses in town and the country. I want them in place by tomorrow morning, or rather, by this morning. I want Peregrine followed. I need to find out who his associates are, particularly the man or men who have been acting for him in the City. As for the best method of killing…" He pondered. "If you take him in the country, a shooting accident would be best. If it happens in London, make it appear like a robbery that went awry. Needless to say, don't do anything that can be traced back to me. Use some of the guards from the whorehouses if you need extra help. And if Lord Ross Carlisle is with Peregrine, you can kill them both."

Kane nodded. "What about Lady Sara?"

"Don't shoot Lady Sara," Weldon said, his tone ugly. "I have other plans for her."

The Duke of Haddonfield was not surprised when Sir Charles Weldon called the day after the Sanfords' ball. It had been obvious that something dark and dangerous connected Weldon and Prince Peregrine; like it or not, Haddonfield and his daughter were now reluctant players in the same game. And the blame for that must be laid squarely on the duke's own shoulders.

When Haddonfield entered the morning room, he saw that his visitor looked strained and had a dangerous gleam in his eye. The two men had not met privately since the disastrous night at Chapelgate when Sara had let herself be compromised by Peregrine.

"Good morning, Charles," the duke said with dry courtesy. "Dare I guess that there is a connection between your visit and what happened last night at the Sanfords?"

"There's a connection, all right," his visitor growled. "What I said about your son-in-law was the truth. If your nephew and daughter hadn't interfered, Peregrine would have been exposed for what he is."

The duke sat in a straight-backed wooden chair. "I suspect that your references to
my
son-in-law,
my
nephew, and
my
daughter means that you hold me responsible for their actions."

"If you had raised your daughter properly, she would be my wife now, and I would not have a tenth of the problems," Weldon said, sitting without an invitation. "But because she's a trollop, she married a baseborn criminal who is doing his best to destroy me."

"Indeed?" Haddonfield's face showed only aristocratic boredom, for he had learned that showing genuine feeling to Weldon gave the other man dangerous power.

His visitor scowled. "Have you fallen under Peregrine's spell, too? So much so that you don't care what he is?"

"No matter what else he might be, he is my daughter's husband, and for her sake I want to stay on good terms with him. And I must say that he is always polite, which is more than can be said of you," the duke said with a trace of acid.

"You will regret the day you ever met him, Had-donfield," Weldon sneered. "Let me tell you about how I first met your son-in-law, in Tripoli."

It was difficult for the duke to keep his face blank as he listened to the story. No doubt Weldon was embroidering the truth for malicious effect, but it was still appalling to think that gentle, well-bred Sara had married a man with such a sordid history. Haddonfield kept his thoughts to himself; he had forfeited the right to judge his daughter's actions. When Weldon was finished, the duke said only, "That is neither here nor there. Let us stop bandying insults and go directly to whatever it is that you want from me. I assume that is why you are here—because you want something?"

"I need eighty thousand pounds immediately," Weldon said. "Peregrine secretly bought up all my outstanding loans, and is demanding payment within the next few days. He has almost ruined both my personal and business finances, so no one will lend me that kind of money." He gave a mirthless smile.

"Then I thought of you, my friend and almost father-in-law."

"Were we friends?'' the duke murmured. "Looking back, I feel more like I was your victim."

Weldon laughed nastily. "That is a role you relish."

Haddonfield flushed as his visitor's barb struck home.

Weldon continued, "There is still a debt between us, Haddonfield. You said you would give me Sara, and you didn't."

"I never promised to 'give you' my daughter. I said that I would encourage her to accept your proposal, which is not the same thing," the duke corrected. "Though it shames me to admit it, I fulfilled my part of the bargain. Thank heaven Sara broke the betrothal, though I wish she had done it a different way.''

Weldon's eyes flashed with fury. "If you had raised her to obey her father's wishes as a daughter should, we would both have been spared a great deal of unpleasantness. However, since I'm a flexible man, I will allow you to recompense me with money. If you don't " His voice trailed off menacingly.