Page 42 of A Lady's Past
Eyes flicked back and forth between Honoria and Diana.
He glanced back at his assistant, who shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “The port is closed.”
“Percy seems to think we should believe you.”
“Percival must be a very wise young man and a good judge of character.”
Staring at her a long moment, Victor appeared to be making his decision. He turned to Percy. “Tell Roger and Finn we will not be needing them today. Give them half their wages.”
It wasn’t surprising that Victor planned to cheat his own hired men. His character demanded despicable behavior. In fact, she was certain he would go back on his word to Honoria as well. Still, getting out of that room and not being put directly on a boat set to sail was an opportunity. It was more than she and her parents had ever had. Diana placed a piece of her lace petticoat on the mattress just beneath the thin blanket while Victor took the bundle of black cloth Percy had been holding.
He tossed the cloth at Diana. “Put these on. We cannot have you looking like that in the middle of the day.”
Unraveling the cloth revealed two overcoats. Diana handed one to Honoria and put the other on.
The women were loaded in the carriage, Finn and Roger leaned against the building and watching as Percy drove the carriage away. It was a bit of a ride, as Honoria’s banker was close to Westminster though still within London. The air improved as they angled away from the river.
Cold and damp, Diana pulled the overcoat tighter around her neck. It wouldn’t keep her safe, but she appreciated the idea of protection just the same. She turned toward the window while Honoria babbled about how her second husband had been quite rich. Diana dropped a bit of lace out the window. She did so twice more when Victor was properly distracted.
Just as Victor closed the blind on her window, she would have sworn she saw Michael Rollins, the Duke of Kerburghe, standing at the corner with a blond man she didn’t recognize. If only she could have dropped another piece. Michael hadn’t seen her, if it really was him and not just her imagination playing tricks on her.
She sat back and watched as the city rolled by. Victor left his window open, and it was uncomfortably cold, but even riding backward it was good to see daylight. Two pieces of lace left. She put her hand on the window frame and let one slip away before they turned on Fleet Street.
When they stopped, Honoria said, “I suggest you pretend to be a gentleman, or Mr. Hoare will suspect a problem.”
With a hideous grin, Victor jumped down from the carriage. He handed Honoria down and bowed with mock grace before handing Diana down.
Richard Colt Hoare was thin and wore his cravat with an intricate knot. He was dressed for a day of business in a black jacket and powdered wig. He had a crooked nose and pale skin. When he saw Honoria, he sauntered over and bowed over her hand with flourish. “My dear Lady Chervil. What a pleasure it is to see you. How may we be of service today?”
Honoria smiled and blinked a moment longer than was comfortable. She acted a bit addled, which was out of character. “This is my nephew Victor and his wife, Diana. I’m granting them funds to buy some land up north. May we sit in your office, my lord? I’m afraid these old bones are sore and tired at my advanced years.”
Good gracious, she was pouring it on a bit heavy. Diana had to keep from rolling her eyes or laughing. Luckily, the pistol under Percy’s overcoat that jutted into her ribs deterred any sudden outbursts. After all she’d been through, this trip to Hoare’s was farcical. Had her father been a rich man, he might have paid off the men who captured them and they would all still be living in peace and obscurity.
A heavenly notion, but not at all useful. Diana inspected Hoare’s office for ways to escape, or at least indicate they were in trouble. One window faced the street. Voices and the clatter of carts filtered in, muffled but present. The window was about two people wide and tall enough to get through. However, it seemed rash to try to jump out while Percy had a gun. Honoria could never manage such a feat, and Diana wouldn’t leave her alone with Victor.
“You are such a generous relation, my lady. What amount should I draw for your fine nephew and his lovely wife?” Richard Colt Hoare charmed with every word. He was a bit like syrup, but Honoria drank it up.
“He has been such a good nephew to me. I shall give him everything that is in the account from Bastian Cumberbatch, my dear second husband.”
Diana had never heard the name before, but perhaps that was not strange. Yet Mr. Hoare looked confused for several heartbeats. He looked at Honoria for a long moment, and her gaze did not waver.
Standing only inches from Honoria’s right shoulder, Victor said with a near-perfect English accent, “Is there a problem, Aunt?”
“Of course not. I think Mr. Hoare is just shocked that I would give so much at one time.” She turned back to the banker. “You see, Bastian Cumberbatch, my dear second husband, was particularly fond of Victor, and I want to help.”
For his part, Victor actually looked contrite. It was an extremely odd expression for him. He must be a very good spy for the French, with his ability to sound English and look kind.
Mr. Hoare smiled. “I completely understand. Family is so important. I myself owe everything to my family, since it was my great grandfather who started this establishment. I’ll just go and check the balance on your account and be right back.”
As he rounded the desk, Victor took his arm. “You know, sir, I’m very close to my aunt. I would not like to think you had designs on her money.”
Diana had tucked the last bit of lace in her sleeve. She eased it out now and worried it in her fist.
Eyes wide, Mr. Hoare had not missed the threat, even if it had been given with charm and a grin. “I assure you, my intentions toward your aunt are, and have always been, honorable. Her finances have been safe with C. Hoare & Company for many years. I only need to retrieve the ledger book pertaining to the lady’s account. I shall return shortly.”
Stepping forward, Diana squeezed Victor’s arm. “It’s all right, dearest. I’m certain Mr. Hoare is an honest man.”
“Thank you, madam.” Mr. Hoare beamed at her and took her offered hand.
