Page 52 of A Secret Consequence for the Viscount
‘A lifetime of adversity and hard work. Your brother has a lot to do with it, too. When you love someone beyond all else and they feel the same, every difficulty is lessened. Remember that.’
‘Thank you, Rose.’
‘You are most welcome, Eleanor. And I promise I will not say a word of any of this to Jacob until you say I can.’
* * *
Nick walked along the small alley behind the garden of Vitium et Virtus and imagined his younger self being ambushed here and dragged away. It was strange to have a knowledge of something, but no real memory. Jacob at his side slowed a little.
‘Here.’ He pointed to a spot beneath a spindly hedge. In summer it must have been thicker and greener. ‘We found the blood right at this spot.’
‘The ring we retrieved from over there beside that pile of stones. I had the impression you may have taken it off yourself to leave as a clue for us to find. If whoever did this to you had removed it, I think they would have recognised its value and kept the piece and it would never have surfaced again. Fred, Oliver and I searched the town for you the next day and when you hadn’t turned up we went to Bromworth Manor. Your uncle said he hadn’t seen you in a week.’
‘I imagine he said that with a smile on his face.’
‘If we knew then what we do now, we would have knocked the man’s head off. The Night Watch got involved the following day, but no one had seen anything of you though one of the neighbours was sure he had heard a hackney cab careening in the area at around eleven.
‘A month later we acknowledged the fact that you may be dead although in all the years since we never accepted it.’ Jacob’s frown was heavy. ‘Perhaps we should have looked further afield, Nick, and searched for you in other places outside England.’
Nicholas shook his head. ‘America is a big land and it is a long way from here. It would have taken a miracle to come across me there given I’d no idea of who I was anyway.’
‘I can’t help the feeling, Nick, that you would never have given up on us.’
‘Lives are led, Jacob, and time passes. To rally against all the choices you could have made only leads to melancholy. You did what you could and in my book you did enough. Today is the first day of the New Year. Let’s look forward now instead of back.’
1819... Nicholas only wanted it to be a happy year. He’d wished for bigger things each new year when he was younger. More money. More parties. More women. In America he had never had the inclination for any dreams whatsoever. Now all he wanted was contentment.
And Eleanor. This thought had him breathing faster and he was glad Jacob, at his side, could not divine his thoughts.
The club appeared different in the light it was now in. Less new. More settled into its own skin. Familiar.
‘We have had a good run here, haven’t we? On the boat back from Boston I could see the place in my mind’s eye looking exactly like this.’
‘Rose was working here as a maid when I met her. Did you know that?’
He laughed. ‘Every time one of you tells me something about your unusual women it surprises me.’
‘Nothing is at it seems, Nicholas. You would do well to remember that.’
He did not have the time to dwell on such a cryptic remark because Oliver came down the steps to meet them and then Frederick arrived from the other direction. Both looked happy to see him, a smile on each of their faces, and Nick had the feeling that almost everything was right in his world. Breathing in and out deeply, he walked into the only true home he had ever had since losing his parents.
Inside they repaired to the private drawing room where he had first found them again, a high-stakes game of cards in play. Only six days ago? It seemed like a lot longer. When they were seated and the wine poured Nick brought the meeting to order.
‘I have had word that the person who paid to have me murdered in the Americas was or is a member of this club.’ He brought out the card the ringmaster had given him and laid it down. ‘I was reliably informed that the gentleman who paid for the mark did so in gold and that he spoke like a lord.’
‘You don’t think it’s any of us, do you?’ Oliver asked this, shock in his eyes.
‘Of course not. That’s why I asked you here to help me catch him. If we could make a list of those who have a grudge against the club or even suffered a loss at one of the bigger card games, perhaps we might narrow the list down.’
Frederick answered that question fairly quickly, giving Nick the impression that membership was his domain. ‘We have two hundred fully paid-up members now and a few who have left. But those who are accepted in usually end up staying.’
‘Who have withdrawn?’
‘Only a handful. Lance Grayson for financial reasons. Tony Shelkirk, because his wife insisted upon it. Frank Davis. Keith McNair. Nash Bowles, though he was kicked out.’
Nick’s attention snapped in. Had he never told anyone of the man’s perversion with the maid? ‘Why?’
‘Because he was a slimy perverted degenerate whom we could no longer stomach.’
