Lord Trowbridge took out a quizzing glass to survey the intruder in their midst, a superior gesture in itself. I say, Snelling. Why do you not rejoin your friends? They are waiting by the door.
Snelling? Godfrey, Viscount Snelling? The brother of that scum whod run off with Corie three years ago? Daniel looked over at her. Her face was as white as the tablecloth.
He blocked Snellings view of her and said, Ah, now I see where you get your manners. They must run in the family, or stumble, as the case may be. As for your brother, he died a hero, I understand, keeping England free.
He died because you sent him to the front, Snelling shouted. After hed sold out, damn you. You pulled strings, with your familys influence and paid-for power, to make my brother cannon fodder.
Your brother would have been killed by some father or brother or cheated cardplayer sooner or later if not in front of an army firing squad. At least he died for a purpose.
What, so you could tup Abbotts ewe lamb?
Daniel would have sent him to join his friends across the room, through the air like a badminton shuttlecock, but Trowbridge was on his feet now. So was Clarence. Lord Morgan was wheezing.
Trowbridge spoke before Daniel could act. You are speaking of a lady at my table, Snelling.
Snelling sneered. That is no lady. She ran off with my brother. Spent the night at an inn, didnt you know, before this mountain of manure ruined their plans.
Now Lady Cora stood. We have heard this calumny before. She spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the room, including a mustachioed man in a tall white toque, with a flaming brand in one hand and a platter of brandied peaches in the other. Two waiters stood beside him, each with a bucket of water.
As I explained once, and will once more, and never again, your brother brought Miss Abbott to my house.
Where she shared my bedroom, Susanna added, like before, before she wiped her nose.
So you say. That is not what my brother wrote.
You are doubting the word of a lady? Trowbridge placed his own napkin on the table, ready to toss it or his goblet in the mans face in challenge. Clarence was trying to decide if he should issue a call for a duel himself, on Susannas behalf. He handed her his handkerchief instead. Lord Morgan was on his feet, still wheezing.
Oh, sit down, you glorified clerk, Snelling told Lord Trowbridge, and you, too, you old tosspot. Its him I have issue with. He pointed at Daniel. Did you or did you not follow my brother to an inn and break his nose before hauling him to some naval port and throwing him aboard a ship?
Daniel stood firm. I did, and I am damned proud of it. The man was a menace.
You see? Snelling asked his audience, holding his arms out in a theatrical gesture more overblown than any theyd seen onstage that night. He followed the lovers to bring back the doxy.
You heard my mother say Miss Abbott was not with your brother by then. That was what they all heard, so Daniel was not telling an untruth. No, I went to keep Squire Abbott from murdering Francis for asking her to elope. Abbott had already rejected your brother as a suitor for her hand.
And you found him with the whore in his bed.
Daniel could not look at Corie. If she was crying, if she was trembling, hed have to kill Snelling after all. He faced her accuser and said, I found your brother attacking an innocent young girl. Daniel expected his skin to burn for that lie, but he felt nothing, most likely because he was too angry for anything as insignificant as a rash.
What girl? You are making that up.
Unlike you, I would not sully a respectable females reputation by saying her name. She was wealthy, and that was enough for your brother. He was nothing but a fortune hunter and a would-be rapist.
Ill call you out for that!
Im sure you would, after I just admitted what a poor shot I am. But dueling is illegal. I will meet you at Gentleman Jacksons Boxing Parlour, however, anytime you wish.
Before Snelling could reply, a high-pitched voice rang out.
Moi
, I will meet you behind zee kitchen, with my sharpest knife. Now leave,
chien
, before I put you on my spitthe chef waved the burning torch for his famous flaming dessertlike I do zee capon.
Snellings friends dragged him off. This is not over yet, he called over his shoulder.
But the dinner was. No one except Daniel was in the mood for dessert.
Chapter Twenty-five
C
orie was ready to start packing, without a plan, without a destination or funds. Shed leave to save the Stamfields, the loving family she never really had, from further disgrace.
Lady Cora debated whether that was a smart move. People would remember, next year, and the next. Corie might be happier in the short run, not having to face the stares and the speculations, but in the long run? Well, if she left now, there might be no long run at all. Although Lady Cora could ask the earl and the countess to look about the countryside for a likely husband.
Who? Daniel wanted to know. The vicars curate?
Whats wrong with the curate? Susanna demanded, jumping from her seat near the fireplace.
Lady Cora ignored them both, and Corie, for that matter. From her reclined position on the sofa, cucumber slices covering her eyes, she supposed out loud that they could consider a trip to Bath or Brighton, where the London news was not as fresh, not as important. They could not leave until after Susannas come-out ball, of course. The invitations had gone out, with a gratifying number of acceptances already. The orchestra was hired, the lobster patties were ordered, and their gowns due for final fittings next week.
She is not going, Daniel stated. Gossip always reaches ears you least wish it to. Thats a rule, or seems to be. And where would she go until the blasted ball? Not back to that miserable excuse for a father, I swear. Would you hide her in a broom closet?
Corie did not like being ignored. This was her future being decided. Broom closet, indeed! I thought I might ask Lord Trowbridge for a position at the bank. Heaven knows the place is big enough. If Daniel can do the work . . .
She let her voice trail off rather than insult him. Then she wished she had completed the sentence, that whatever he did there, she was certain she could do as well. The oaf was laughing at her.
Do not be daft. No one but men work at the bank or in Trowbridges office. And I promise, you cannot do the assignments I am given. Furthermore, taking a post means taking yourself off the bride market.
Who would marry me now?
More than would wed a female doing mens work, he countered.
That might be true, dear, but if Corisande remains among the
ton
, she might have to face Snelling and his venom again. And what if that dreadful man meets up with the sniveling cousin of the Duke of Haigh, or, worse, that cousins valet who used to work for Sir Neville? Everyone will doubt our refutations, and Cories reputation will be just as damaged.
Daniel brushed that aside. What are the chances of those two meeting?
Excellent, Id guess, especially if that law you mentioned is true, that what you least wish to happen usually does.
Now Susanna added her thoughts: That awful man might search out the valet, Daniel. He seems to hate you so much.
Daniel glared at his sister, but Corie said, Susanna is right. Snelling will not simply go away or let his thirst for vengeance fade. You heard him say he was not finished, and why should he be? His brother did die because of me.
Francis Snelling died because he was a despicable swine and a miserable officer. Lud knows how many good men died needlessly with him in that battle. Their blood might be on my hands for sending him back to Portugal, but Snelling brought his death on himself. And no one will listen to his brother. Everyone knows what a rotter Snelling was.
Not everyone, Susanna pointed out, to Daniels disgust. Where was her sense of loyalty? Mother has been trying to say he was kind enough to bring Corie to our house.
Lady Cora moaned from the couch. You see what happens when you lie?
Daniel knew very well what happened when he lied, and he was not going to discuss that in front of the women. That is a minor detail. With all of us united, we can dismiss any garbage the brother spews. Corie will stay right here where she belongs, until the end of the Season unless she gets married before then.
Corie thought that was a vain hope of getting rid of her gracefully. But you will all have to keep lying for me.
Lady Cora removed the cucumber slices from her eyes and finally looked at Corie. I doubt it will be necessary. We can take a page from my sister-in-laws book and stare down anyone who questions our respectability. After all, Lady Royce lived separately from her husband for years, and he was suspected of subverting justice while serving on the courts. No one ever cut her from their invitations list. In fact, I shall write to dear Margaret in the morning. I am certain she wont mind arriving a few weeks early for Susannas ball. No oneI repeat, no onedoubts her propriety or dares to challenge her authority. Not the Almacks committee, not the prince regent.
Thats the ticket, Mother. Well scrape through, and Snelling will return to whatever hole he crawled out from.
Oxford, Corie said, touched by the lengths these Stamfields were willing to take for her.
What? Daniel forgot where he was and shouted loudly enough for a battlefield or a tavern brawl. What did you say?
I said Oxford. A small town outside, actually, but I never knew its name. That is where the Snelling family seat is. The estate is called Silverwoods. Francis said his father seldom went to London because he had so many interests and investments in the area. Since Godfrey is viscount now, he must have taken over all those properties and duties.
Oxford, Daniel repeated, more quietly this time as he considered the counterfeits. Now, who would believe that coincidence?
A lot of people live near Oxford, dear, his mother said, doubt shadowing her face.
Yes, but few of them are as scurvy as Snelling and his brother. He kissed his mothers cheek. I need to go out.
Now, at this time of night? Whatever for?
I, ah, need to see a man about a, ah, printing press. Thats what.
His mother shook her head and
tsk
ed. And here I thought youd given up overindulging in spirits, dear.
These are good spirits, Mother. Do not worry. He kissed her cheek again while he straightened his neckcloth. Then he kissed his sisters cheek, headed for the door, came back, and kissed Cories cheek. Everything will be fine, without a doubt. Youll see.
He left a world of doubt in Cories mind. Where was he going if not to continue his low-life carousing? A printing press? Good grief, he was mad! How could she trust a Bedlam-bound clunch like Daniel to rescue her? Daniel was a fool. And why did he kiss her good night?
Daniel almost forgot where he was going, thinking about that kiss. Lord, he wanted to kiss her soft pink lips so badly hed slay a dragon, or Snelling, for her, just to see if shed reward him with a smile.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. She needed a safe, sober husband. Someone like Trowbridge. Maybe the man had a brother.
Trowbridges butler was not certain the master could be disturbed at this late hour. The butler seemed the one most disturbed by the visit, hastily adjusting his wig. His lordship was retired, the butler claimed, and might be asleep. Whatever Mr. Stamfield wanted could wait until the morning, when civilized people conducted business. After all, this was not the War Office, England was no longer at war, and officials of the Finance Ministry did not have midnight emergencies.
So Daniel stepped around the sputtering servant and shouted up the stairwell, Trowbridge, I have news. Snelling is from Oxford.
Ten minutes later, they sat in Trowbridges office, the viscount in a brocaded robe and slippers, his hair tousled from sleep. The butler brought ale and cheese, all he could find in the deserted pantry.
Trowbridge was not pleased to be awakened, not impressed with Daniels latest theory.
You are going off half-cocked again, Stamfield. Just because the man insulted your ladies does not make him a criminal. I realize that if you cast doubt on his own character, people will be less likely to believe his hogwash about Miss Abbott, but you cannot hang a man for spreading lies and unfounded gossip.
Well, they werent all unfounded, or lies, but Trowbridge did not have to know that. I am not suspicious of him because of his rudeness, but nastiness is a common thread through traitors, thieves, and spies. I know, for Ive met my fair share of all of them.
Backwards logic, lad. Not all dastards are criminals; not all criminals are ill-mannered. Why, some of the MPs I have to deal with are foulmouthed devils, but they are honorable men. And some of the most softly spoken, courteous gentlemen would stick a knife in your back while they are smiling. No, your notion does not ring true.
