Royal Revels (25 page)

“Oh!” The gasp that came from Lady Gilham’s throat was awful to hear. Her face was frozen into a mask of disbelief, slowly melting to fury. “You viper! You loathsome snake! You repulsive creature! Officer, I would never do what this man has suggested. I insist you arrest him for defamation of character. For libel, for slander!”

“We’ll send off for the manger of the Red Herring to clear up that point,” Belami told her. She was shaken by the triumphant sneer on his face.

“Devil! I’ll get you for this!”

“Come along then. I’ll just take this with us for evidence,” Perkins said, shoving the money into the case and snapping it shut.

“Belami! You’re not going to let him do this! You’ve got the letters. You’ve got all the evidence you wanted. I filled my part of the bargain. I took you for a gentleman.”

“We both erred. I took you for a lady—for about five minutes,” he replied, unmoved.

“It’s not fair!’’

“Were you concerned with fairness last night when you had Smythe slip Miss Gower that damned note?” he asked, his voice harsh.

“So that’s it. You’re after revenge.”

“I’m after your neck, milady, and I’ve got it.” She looked at a murderous scowl that turned her blood to ice water. Belami was an excellent performer.

He deemed that her mood was ripe for negotiating, and the constable deemed that the second act of the play was about to begin. He glanced to Belami, noticed the nearly imperceptible nod of his head and said, “It does seem a bit harsh, milord, to hang a lady. Maybe if she just hands back the blunt, you two could come to terms. Once the law gets its hands on her, she’ll never go free again.”

“There is no contract between lions and lambs,” Belami said in a softly menacing voice.

“Take the money. Take it and keep the letters too. I shan’t say a word. I give you my word, Belami; just let me go and you’ll never see me again,” Lady Gilham implored, her white hands out to him in supplication while a tear trembled at the corner of one incomparable eye.

“You tempt me,” he said, “but not very strongly.”

“What’s it to be, sir?” Perkins asked impatiently.

“Give me five minutes alone with her,” Belami replied. “Keep a close watch on the front door and have our assistant watch the rear as well.”

There was no assistant, but Perkins was clever enough not to remind his lordship of it. “Aye, I’ll do that,” he said, and went out, carrying the case of money with him.

Lady Gilham’s mind was feverish with activity. Five minutes was not enough to bring him around her thumb by her customary means of handling recalcitrant gentlemen. She would only ask for her freedom. George’s thousand pounds would see them out of the country, if this human devil hadn’t managed to get that back as well! She was packed, the horses still harnessed. There was no point trying to get her pistol from the other room with that constable at the door outside. He must have something in mind—he was the one who had suggested the five minutes of privacy.

“Here’s the bargain,” he said with no preamble. “I keep the money and your evidence against the Prince Regent; you get your band of rogues out of the country today.”

“Agreed!” she said at once.

“I’m not finished yet.”

“Anything. Anything you ask. You have the loaf and the knife, Lord Belami. You won’t find me hard to deal with.”

“That’ll be a change. I just want one thing more, and it won’t cost you a penny.”

“I said anything.”

“I want you to satisfy my curiosity. To straighten out the relationship between yourself, Smythe, Stack, Morton, and Mrs. Lehman.”

“Five minutes won’t begin to do it,” she said frankly.

“True. You have four minutes left to satisfy me.”

“Very well then. Mrs. Morton is my mother; Captain Stack is my father. When my father—left the army…”

“Dishonorable discharge?”

“Yes,” she said, her chin high. “But not for cowardice. It was a duel over a card game. After his discharge, we traveled around the country, living by his skill at cards. My mother disliked it excessively. In the larger centers where we planned to stay for some months, she often made Papa live apart, setting herself up with her maiden name, Moira Morton, and pretending to be a widow. The hope was that I might make a good marriage, but as I had to have my own name, for the certificates and so on, she began calling herself my chaperone. In Cornwall, it worked. They married me off to an old slice whose only attraction was his advanced age and his estate. When he died, there wasn’t as much money as we hoped. Just enough to bring us here. Mama knew the prince was susceptible to women and what would please him.”

“Where does Smythe come into it?”

“He’s another footloose wanderer, like ourselves. His father was a convict, and his mother worked for a country parson who gave George some education. I met him in Cornwall and fell in love with him. When Sir John died, I became pregnant and married George.”

“This is the daughter you spoke of?”

“No, the marriage proved unnecessary after all. I lost the child.”

“Where does Mrs. Lehman fit into the scheme of things?”

“She’s my father’s sister. She runs a gambling house in London. I sent her off a note begging her to support the story I told you, in case you checked. She’s not a part of our traveling circus,” she added grimly, “but she agreed to help and even invented some evidence that I had a daughter with her.”

“What about this notion of palming George off as a royal by-blow?”

“That came about by chance. He met this Colonel McMahon at the Old Ship.”

“I know that part. You can skip along to the ring.”

“Mama remembered that old ring she and Papa had used for a wedding ring eons ago. Mama used to work for Mrs. Fitzherbert for a few weeks. Mrs. Fitzherbert gave her the ring,” she said with a bold stare that dared him to deny this unlikely tale. “We thought it was worth a try, but none of us ever had any intention of letting that affair go very far. George only hoped for a few thousand pounds to salve the prince’s guilty conscience. It was more a joke than anything else, but it started getting out of hand.”

“A costly joke,” Belami said. “I suggest in future you stick to coursing one hare at a time. Very well, I think that clears up any little questions that were plaguing me. Right on time too,” he said, glancing at the clock. “I’ll call the constable off, but I want it clearly understood, the lot of you depart today.”

“We’re already packed. We’re not eager to confront Mrs. Fitzherbert. She might just remember Mama....” She stopped, and a rosy flush crept up her neck.

“She wouldn’t be likely to forget a servant she esteemed highly enough to give the prince’s ring to. You’re clever, Lady Gilham. You’re young and attractive. Why don’t you and George use the money he got from me to set up as a decent married couple? You could open a shop or buy a small farm...”

The smile she bestowed on him was closer to a sneer than anything else. “I followed the drum for the first fifteen years of my life. Life was never easy, but it was never dull either. I prefer the existence I lead to ‘settling down.’ You’ve done your duty to point out to me the error of my ways. Can I go now?”

He tossed up his palms. “The sooner, and the farther, the better,” he said. With a graceful bow and an eye not entirely bereft of admiration, he left her.

The constable was standing at the front door. “We’d best make our first stop the bank. I wouldn’t want to have my money stolen again,” Belami said with a wink, then hopped into the carriage.

“Could you tell me what that was all about at all?” Perkins asked hesitantly.

“Just a little misunderstanding, Perkins. It won’t even be necessary for you to write up a report on it, but I want you to know that the Prince Regent appreciates your assistance very much.” As he spoke, he pressed a gold coin into Perkins’s hands.

Perkins peered down to ascertain its denomination and smiled broadly. “Any time,” he said. “Always happy to oblige His Highness.”

After depositing his money in the bank and dropping off the constable, Belami returned to North Street just in time to see Lady Gilham’s heavily laden carriage turning up the Dyke Road. The head on the opposite seat looked remarkably like George Smythe’s. He smiled with quiet satisfaction and turned his carriage toward the Royal Pavilion, to inform Colonel McMahon of the case’s successful conclusion and to deliver the royal letters, crockery, and other items.

He felt some stirring of sympathy for Lady Gilham, but as he examined his conscience and found none of the same sympathy for the other members of her crew, he concluded it was only sentiment at work on him. He had dealt fairly, even leniently, with the group. Maybe too leniently with Stack, but, on the other hand, Captain Sharps, like the poor, were always with us. Lady Gilham would receive from George some portion of the thousand pounds, which was fair recompense for her dalliance with the prince, and the group would go on to bedevil some other corner of the kingdom. They would find other victims, no doubt, for being a fool wasn’t against the Law.

He drove past the royal gardens, dead now in winter, with clumps of melting snow nestled between the shrubs and flowers. He had to wait ten minutes to meet McMahon and used the time having the crockery and plate hauled into the Pavilion.

McMahon came hastening into his office where Belami waited. “Belami, what’s new with the case? Are you making any headway at all?” he asked.

Belami pointed to the box of wares on the floor.

“What’s this? You got the prince’s belongings? How the devil did you do it?”

The explanation took half an hour. The letters, the documents outlining Smythe’s origins, and the golden locket bearing the prince’s miniature were handed over.

“You’re a caution, Belami! This calls for champagne.” McMahon laughed, slapping his thigh. “I’d have given a monkey to see Perkins shaking the cuffs at Lady Gilham. Did you count up how many laws you broke in all?”

“None, so far as I know,” Belami answered blandly. “And, in any case, I persuaded myself it was one of those cases where the end justified the means. I’m no disciple of Machiavelli in general.”

“I wouldn’t want to run afoul of you,” McMahon said and rang for the champagne. When it was opened and poured, he said, “Now there is the matter of your reward to discuss.”

“I kept a hundred pounds to cover expenses.”

“Bah, a hundred pounds! You’ve saved the nation thousands in trouble. You’ve done no less than avert a national scandal, Belami. Let the reward fit the achievement,” he advised, nodding his head wisely.

“Oh, I don’t know, Colonel. I don’t need money, and I already have a handle to my name,” Belami answered, his interest waning. “I do it for the excitement and challenge.’’

“You seem a bit down at the mouth for a lad who has just pulled off a feat of no mean measure. What ails you?”

“Man’s second oldest ailment—
crève-coeur
,” he admitted. “I enjoyed doing it. Now that it’s over, I find it has cost me dear. Not in pounds, but in people. The affair at the Red Herring didn’t suit the duchess’s notions of propriety.’’

“I should think not. I should think not, indeed. How about her niece? Would she be willing to overlook it, under the circumstances?”

“I believe so,” Belami said, though he hadn’t recounted Deirdre’s presence at the Old Ship.

“Well, then, if it’s only Charney who is bedeviling you, we must call in the big gun,
n’est-ce pas
? The prince has her firmly around his thumb. He is always delighted to involve himself in romantic entanglements. He’ll have her trimmed into line quick as you can say Jack Robinson. We’ll see if his tailor has left and talk it over with him. On second thought,” he said, “perhaps I should see him alone first and outline what you’ve done on his behalf. Can you come back in an hour?’’

“My day is empty,’’ Belami said.

“An hour then, and we’ll see what we can do.”

Belami finished his champagne and let himself out. There was an air of listlessness about him, due in part to the termination of the case, but mainly due to the trouble with Deirdre. He was by no means hopeless on the latter score, but he wanted to be with her now. To tell her all the interesting details of the case and to bask in the glow of her approval. It was nice to have your accomplishments appreciated, but more and more it was dawning on him that the only truly satisfying admiration could come from Miss Deirdre Gower. Even the prince’s approbation meant little.

He passed the next hour at the inn with Pronto. There were a dozen—nay, a hundred questions to be answered and answered again. Belami was relieved when the hour was up, and he could return to the Pavilion.

Chapter Seventeen

“My dear Belami, too kind of you to come!” the Prince Regent exclaimed, a benign smile decorating his waxen face.

Belami realized it was an honor to be received so intimately in His Highness’s dressing room, but it was an honor that made a straight face difficult to maintain. A lilac dressing gown of exquisitely embroidered silk encased the large girth of the prince, unhampered by the corset that gave it a form in public. It oozed and rolled like a river.

“The kindness is yours in having me, sir,” Belami said, and executed his finest bow.

“Do sit down, and let us have a wee cose,” the prince suggested, patting the sofa beside him.

Despite this friendly gesture, Belami knew his proper seat was the chair opposite and went to it.

“Colonel McMahon has told me the whole incredible story,” the prince continued. “Ah, I would have given a wilderness of monkeys to have been present, but we must ever be mindful of the dignity owing our position. What an affair it has been—a criminal’s son having the impudence to intrude his presence into our home. McMahon isn’t too careful who he invites to call, but that is strictly
entre nous
. Of course, I never for an instant believed his wild tales. It was only an amusement to pass the long days. A little respite from affairs of state, signing papers till this poor wrist is worn out,” he said wearily, shaking his white wrist. “And the other matter as well was superbly handled. The less said of that female, the better.”