The Sinners Club (18 page)

He looked up as someone knocked on the door. “Come in?”

The butler bowed. “Mr. McEwan to see you, sir.”

“Send him in.” He'd given the solicitor his new direction but was rather surprised the man had bestirred himself to come and visit.

Long before Mr. McEwan appeared, Jack heard him wheezing down the corridor, and the tap of his walking stick. He stood up.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Mr. Lennox.” Mr. McEwan sat down so heavily that the chair creaked alarmingly.

“How may I assist you?”

The solicitor fumbled for his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “I had an unexpected visitor this afternoon—a Mr. Simon Picoult.”

“You did?” Jack kept his smile in place even as his senses tightened. “And what did he want?”

“To escort me to visit the Dowager Countess of Storr at Grillons Hotel. She is a very charming woman indeed.” He hesitated. “Not what I expected at all.”

The clever little minx.
“She is a remarkable woman. What did she want from you?”

“Just to state her case, and ask for my help.”

“Which you intend to offer her, I'm sure.”

Mr. McEwan spread his hands wide on his knees. “After reading the late earl's will, I was able to reassure her that even if she does have a daughter, she will be well provided for. She was also rather concerned about the matter of guardianship if she had a son.”

“In what way?”

He chuckled. “She had the rather fanciful notion that if you were appointed as one of her son's guardians, you would do your utmost to usurp the boy's position. I believe she even mentioned something about King Richard III and the poor princes in the tower.”

“She would,” Jack muttered.

“I beg your pardon? Of course I reassured her that you would be unable to do anything without the other trustees' approval, but I'm not sure whether I allayed her fears. She is such a fragile, delicate little thing that I found myself quite unable to be too firm with her.”

Jack fought back an urge to laugh. “I'm glad you were able to reassure her as to her future position even if I am to figure as the villain of the piece. You believe her claim to be married to the late earl is valid, then?”

“It seems to be. The letter from the vicar also helped.”

“Then I wonder what George Mainwaring thinks he knows that will discredit the countess?”

“He wrote to me yesterday.”

“George did?”

“Luckily, after reading the documents you brought back, I was able to reply immediately and hopefully convince him that he doesn't have the necessary grounds to instigate a lawsuit—even if he doubts the moral turpitude of the Dowager Countess.”

“Let's hope he heeds your advice and doesn't come haring down to London as well. I have a horrible suspicion that he'll appear breathing fire at any moment.”

Mr. McEwan shook his head. “Inheritance issues do tend to bring out the worst in my clients.” He started to lever himself out of the chair. “I thought you should know the Dowager Countess was in Town. She still thinks you're Jack Smith, doesn't she?”

“Unfortunately.” Jack grimaced. “Is she planning on returning to Pinchbeck Hall to await the birth of her child?”

“She said she'd decided to confer with a new birthing physician here in London and would take further instruction from him.” Mr. McEwan frowned. “Considering when the earl died, and how ill he apparently was, I would've expected her to have given birth a while ago. But women know best in these matters. I find it better not to interfere.”

Jack came around the desk to shake his solicitor's hand and escort him to his carriage. As he returned to Adam's office he considered Mr. McEwan's last words. Exactly how long was Mary's pregnancy going to last? And why in God's name, having got the solicitor's unwavering support, wasn't she on her way back to Lincolnshire? Was she fearful that her pregnancy had gone on for too long, or was there something else?

He decided to go back upstairs to his own apartment, where he could at least think more clearly. By openly approaching Mr. McEwan, she must have known he would find out she was in London. Was it a challenge? He found himself smiling despite everything. If she wanted to get his attention, he'd be damned sure to give it to her.

“N
ow, where would she go?” Jack asked himself as he contemplated the bright afternoon sunshine. Advised by the butler, he'd walked around to the mews at the back of the house in search of the appropriate transportation. “She'll want to be seen, and remembered, by as many members of the ton as necessary.”

He put on his hat and gloves. “It has to be Hyde Park.”

“Did you want something, sir?”

He smiled at the young stable hand. “Does Mr. Fisher own a carriage and horses?”

“He does, sir. Do you want to borrow them? He said it was all right. He has a nice pair of matching grays and a new phaeton.”

“That will do very well.”

He waited while the groom and the boy got the horses harnessed to the carriage and contemplated exactly how he was going to handle an encounter with Mary Lennox. He rather wanted to wait and see how she handled him. A knot of excitement unfurled in his gut, and he suddenly felt more alive. Was she anticipating their first meeting as much as he was? If she'd discovered who he really was, she'd be furious with him. He'd much rather have the opportunity to tell her himself and beg forgiveness. Her descent on London so quickly after his desertion unsettled him.

“They're ready for you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Jack gave the boy a coin and took a moment to meet the horses and make friends with them. One day, when he was settled, he wanted to have his own stable and never have to borrow or rent from anyone else again. He was tired of his roving existence, which was probably why he'd allowed himself to become infatuated with the idea of Pinchbeck Hall. But there were other houses and other counties where he was certain he could exist quite happily. Perhaps when Richard and Violet were settled, he could find a place near them.

He gathered the reins and his whip and waited as the groom stepped away from the horse's head and got up behind him before setting off toward the gates. He'd always loved driving a team. Adam's horses were perfectly behaved despite the usual mayhem of the city traffic. He turned on to the street that led to Hyde Park and merged into a stream of fashionable carriages bearing the leaders and beauties of the ton.

There was so much traffic in the park that he was able to drive slowly and look about him at his leisure. He'd made some acquaintances in London, and was more than willing to pull up his horses and chat to the gentlemen and flirt with the ladies. It wasn't long before he caught a glimpse of Simon's red hair and the widow herself in glorious black surrounded by a large crowd of solicitous gentlemen. He paused for a moment to appreciate her. If she hadn't been his adversary, he would've admired her even more.

He drew up his horses and waited to see if she would acknowledge him in any way. She seemed oblivious to his presence, her soulful gaze on the gentleman in front of her who was holding her hand, and about to press a kiss on it. Simon's gaze finally tangled with Jack's and he swiftly looked away. A certain hardness around his mouth indicated he'd seen Jack and chosen to ignore him.

With a sigh, Jack signaled to his groom to hold his horses, and stepped down from the carriage. As the crowd around the dowager was so thick, it took him a while to work his way through to the front. Mary's gaze fell on him and she inclined her head.

“Mr. Smith?”

“Not quite, my lady.” Jack bowed but not before he'd seen the hastily concealed fury in her eyes. “I do have a confession to make.”

“Surely not in such a public venue, sir.” She glanced up at Simon. “Isn't it time for us to be going? I believe we have a prior engagement.”

Jack held his ground. “May I beg for a private audience, then? I understand you are putting up at Grillons.”

She looked down her perfect nose at him. “I hardly think that is necessary, sir. I don't think we have anything to say to each other.”

“I beg to differ.”

Her fingers tightened on Simon's arm. Jack got the impression that he either moved out of the way or he would be mown down. He spoke as quickly and as quietly as he could. “Don't I deserve a fair hearing? I gave you and your brother one.”

“While you deceived us.” She looked away from him. “All right. You may meet us this evening for dinner at our hotel at six.”

He bowed. “Thank you for that, at least.” He turned his attention to Simon. “Are you well?”

“What is it to you?”

Jack cursed under his breath as Simon deliberately pushed past him with Mary on his arm and was soon swallowed up by the strolling crowds. He'd hurt Simon and enraged Mary. He couldn't decide which made him feel worse. But at least he'd been offered a reprieve and an opportunity to explain himself. Although how could he explain his stupidity? Looking back on his foolish idea to masquerade as his secretary made him want to howl. It wasn't the first time that he'd crashed around like a young unbroken colt without thought for anyone, but it was the first time he'd cared enough to try and fix matters.

On his way back to the Sinners, he called in at the House of Pleasure, but Christian still hadn't returned. He was, however, expected within the next two days, which at least gave Jack hope. While his groom inquired at the kitchen door about Christian, Jack checked his watch. He still had three hours to fill before he could present himself at Grillons....

“Do you want to go anywhere else, sir?”

He gathered up the reins, aware that he'd been staring at nothing for far too long.

“No, I think we can go back now.”

“Right you are, sir.”

When he got in, Maddon, the butler, caught his eye and glided forward.

“Mr. Lennox? There have been some messages for you. I've left them on Mr. Adam's desk.”

“Thank you.” Jack changed direction and went into the study. He picked up the first letter, which was from Adam, and opened it.

Jack put the letter aside and turned to the handwritten note, which stated that a clerk from Mr. McEwan's office had called to tell him that a Mr. George Mainwaring was in town and was seeking a meeting with the solicitor.

“Devil take it!” Jack balled up the paper and threw it in the direction of the fire. “I knew he wouldn't be able to resist meddling!”

At least he could warn Mary and Simon to be on their guard. But what did George think he would gain by trying to bully the solicitor? What did he think he knew that everyone else was unaware of? Jack had no clue. He rang the bell and waited until the butler returned.

“Could you find out where a Mr. George Mainwaring from the county of Lincoln is staying here in London?”

Maddon inclined his head. “I'm sure that can be discovered for you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Perhaps he could meet with George and head him off, or even better, find out what he believed he knew. He wasn't sure how he would achieve that, but there had to be something the man wanted. Everyone had their price.

He wrote a quick note to Mr. McEwan, and then went back up to his apartment to enjoy the luxury of a hot bath in the privacy of his own suite. He was surprisingly nervous about the dinner ahead. He'd never been one to stay around to apologize or attempt to explain his actions. His father had taught him that. It was a creed that had stood him well—until now. He stretched his legs and fought off the suggestion of a headache. Perhaps he was finally growing up and willing to own up to his mistakes. Violet would be so proud....

 

He presented himself at Grillons promptly at six, and waited in the lobby to be escorted up to the Dowager Countess's suite. He'd dressed in a new dark blue coat and white waistcoat and wore dark trousers. While he lingered, he couldn't help but overhear several discussions centered on Mary Lennox's plight and beauty. Gossip seemed to think she deserved the title more than he did. For once he almost agreed.

Eventually, he was allowed up the stairs and knocked on the door to Mary's suite. It was opened by Simon, whose uncompromising expression reminded Jack forcibly of their first-ever encounter at Pinchbeck Hall.

“Good evening, Mr. Picoult.”

“Jack.”

Simon allowed him to come into the room, where he found Mary sitting on the couch. She looked as beautiful as ever, but far more distant. Gathering his courage and his supposedly famous wits about him with surprising difficulty, Jack approached his adversary.

“My lady.”

She stared directly into his eyes. “Mr. Smith.”

He went down on one knee in front of her. “As I said, I have a confession to make. That isn't my real name. For years I thought it was, but eventually my father told me who I really was.”

“And what was that? A liar, a cheat, and an opportunist?”

He let the insults flow over him. He certainly deserved them. “The son of the fourth son of the Earl of Storr.”

“How convenient for you.”

“It was something of a surprise, seeing as my father never had a penny to his name, and lived off his wits.”

“You obviously take after him.”

“If I wanted to survive, I really had no choice.” He forced himself to meet her gaze again. “If I'd had any idea that the old earl had married, I would never have come to Pinchbeck Hall in disguise.”

“So you say.”

Despite her hostility, he persevered. “I was asked to find out what happened to a friend of mine, Lord Keyes. I only decided to visit Pinchbeck Hall because I was in the area.”

She shrugged, dislodging her shawl and displaying her magnificent bosom. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I'm trying to explain how I came to meet you as my secretary and not myself.”

“Even if what you say is the truth, it doesn't explain why you stole from us.”

“I took the documents to Mr. McEwan. I believe he is the best person to advocate for you. I still believe that. You've met the man. He told me he will do anything in his power to make sure you receive what is owed to you.”

“You still had no right to steal them.”

“I tried asking, but you didn't trust me enough.”

“And in that I was proved right, wasn't I?”

Jack sighed. “I put the documents into the right hands. Whether you agree or disagree as to my motives for doing so, you can hardly suggest I did it to benefit my own claim.”

She waved an impatient hand at him. “Please get up, Mr. Lennox. I have no idea why you do anything, or the slightest interest in finding out. If I have a son, that child will inherit the title. I will do everything in my power to keep you away from making any financial decisions for my son or having any influence on him whatsoever.”

“Why?”

She glared at him. “Because I don't trust you, and you are not respectable!”

“And you are?”

She looked over at Simon. “I told you he would use my past to discredit me and take control of my son and the earldom! Why else has he been snooping around at your mother's?”

Jack set his teeth. “Because George Mainwaring insists that he knows something that will discredit your claims. In truth, he is on his way to London to speak to Mr. McEwan about it right now.” He met Mary's furious gaze head-on. “Now perhaps you could stop seeing me as your enemy, and concentrate on the man who really means you harm and always has!”

“You are both my enemies! You are the one who encouraged him to take me to court!”

Jack looked heavenward for more patience, which was rapidly deserting him. Mary Lennox was the only woman apart from Violet and his maternal grandmother who had the ability to make him lose his temper. “I came to apologize for deceiving you about my identity, and to warn you about George. If that is all you are willing to allow me to say, perhaps I should take my leave?” He bowed. “If you need me, I'm sure you know where I am.”

He turned and left, dinner forgotten. Not that he would've been able to eat anything with his stomach all knotted up. At least he'd said his piece, apologized, and warned them. What else had he expected? An opportunity to throw himself at their feet and be welcomed back? They had each other. What need did they have for him? Apologizing to someone and expecting nothing in return was surprisingly hard.

“Jack.”

He turned to find Simon exiting the hotel behind him.

“She's upset. She isn't thinking clearly.”

Jack nodded at the doorman's offer to find him a hackney cab. “She has a right to be upset.”

Simon hesitated beside him. “May I come and speak to you?”

“Without Mary? Will she approve?”

Simon sighed. “Don't be as difficult as she is being. Sometimes you two are so much alike I want to bang your heads together.”

The hackney pulled up, and Jack got in. He looked back at Simon. “All right. You may come with me.”

“Thank you.”

He held out his hand. Simon took it, and he pulled him into the dark interior of the cab.

“I promise I won't take up much of your time.”