The Paid Companion (33 page)

Roland shot Arthur a ferocious glare. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Amusement gleamed in Arthur’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“Well, I am certain of it, sir,” Elenora declared. “And if you continue to believe such rubbish, you are worse than a fool. Furthermore, I must tell you that you do your wife an equally great wrong by allowing yourself to think for even one moment that she would betray you.”

“You know nothing about this matter,” Roland muttered. But he was starting to look somewhat hunted.

“You are mistaken in that regard as well,” Elenora informed him. “I have had the privilege of making Mrs. Burnley’s acquaintance. It was obvious to me that she loves you deeply and would never do anything to hurt you.”

Uncertainty and confusion tightened Roland’s features. “You’ve met Juliana? I do not understand. How did that come about?”

“That is neither here nor there at the moment. Suffice it to say that I have complete faith in the depth of her feelings toward you, even if you do not. I have even greater faith in St. Merryn’s honor.” She turned back to Arthur. “Pray continue with your tale, sir.”

Arthur inclined his head. “It is clear that the villain arranged for me to see Burnley here this evening, assumed that I would follow him, discover him with the snuffboxes and leap to the conclusion that he is the man that I have been hunting. He no doubt intended the entire affair as a distraction to put me off the scent.”

“Yes, of course,” Elenora said slowly. “Whoever he is, he obviously knows that you and Mr. Burnley are not on the best of terms. He was certain that each of you would believe the worst of each other.”

“Huh.” Roland seemed to withdraw even farther into his corner.

Arthur exhaled heavily.

Elenora bestowed a bracing smile on both men. “The villain misread the pair of you rather badly, did he not? Then again, how could he be expected to comprehend that you were each far too insightful and intelligent to make such a dreadful mistake about each other’s intentions? He no doubt judged you both by how he himself would have reacted in such a situation.”

“Mmm.” Arthur was evidently bored by the conversation.

Roland grunted and examined the tips of his boots.

Elenora looked into the faces of both men and felt a disturbing prickle in her palms. In that moment she knew that whatever had transpired between Arthur and Roland a short time before, it had been a very near thing.

“Well, then, that’s over and done,” she continued, determined to dispel the grim mood. “We have a good many questions to ask you, Mr. Burnley. I hope you don’t mind?”

“What questions?” he asked, looking wary.

Arthur studied Roland. “Let us begin with you telling us everything you can about the man who suggested that you go to that room tonight.”

Roland crossed his arms. “There is not much to tell. I made his acquaintance a few days ago over a hand of cards. I won several hundred pounds from him that first night. Unfortunately, I lost the whole of that amount and more in the following days.”

“Was he the one who suggested that you visit the Green Lyon?” Elenora asked.

Roland’s mouth tightened. “Yes.”

“What was his name?” she pressed.

“Stone.”

“Describe him,” Arthur said.

Roland spread his hands. “Slender. Blue eyes. His hair is medium brown in color. He is about my height. Good features.”

“What of his age?” Elenora asked.

“In the same vicinity as my own. That was one of the reasons we got on so well, I suppose. That and the fact that he seemed to comprehend the difficulties of my financial situation.”

Elenora tightened her hold on the velvet bag in her lap. “Did he tell you anything about himself?”

“Very little.” Roland paused as though trying to summon up the memories. “Mostly we talked about how my present financial problems had all been created by-” He stopped abruptly and shot Arthur a quick, annoyed look.

“He encouraged you to blame me for your difficulties?” Arthur asked dryly.

Roland went back to examining his boots.

Elenora nodded reassuringly. “Do not concern yourself, Mr. Burnley. Your financial problems will soon be behind you. St. Merryn plans to invite you to participate in one of his new investment ventures.”

Roland jerked upright. “What’s this? What are you talking about?”

Arthur gave Elenora an impatient look. She pretended not to notice.

“You and St. Merryn can discuss the matter of your finances later, Mr. Burnley. For the moment we must stick with the subject of this man who took you to the Green Lyon to gamble. Please try to recall anything that he might have said about himself that seemed unusual or interesting.”

Roland was torn, clearly wanting to pursue the topic of investments. But he subsided.

“There really is not much else that I can tell you,” he said. “We shared a few bottles of claret and played some cards.” He paused. “Well, there was one thing. I got the impression that he was very interested in natural philosophy and matters of science.”

Elenora caught her breath.

“What did he say about his interest in science?” Arthur asked.

“I cannot recall precisely.” Roland frowned. “The subject arose after a game of hazard. I had lost a rather large sum. Stone bought a bottle of claret to console me. We drank for a while, talking of various matters. And then he asked me if I knew that England had lost its second Newton several years ago before the man could demonstrate his genius to the world.”

Elenora’s mouth went dry. She looked at Arthur and saw the dark glitter of comprehension in his eyes.

“That reminds me of the question that we neglected to ask Lady Wilmington,” she said. “Not that it is at all likely that she would have told us the truth, of course.”

33

“I’m not at all certain that this is the right step to take, sir.” Elenora adjusted her shawl and looked up at the darkened windows of the townhouse. “It is two o’clock in the morning. Perhaps we should have gone home and considered more carefully before coming here.”

“I have no intention of waiting until a more polite hour to speak with Lady Wilmington,” Arthur said.

He raised the heavy brass knocker for the third time and let it drop. Elenora winced as the clang reverberated loudly in the silence.

A short time before, they had dropped Roland off at his club, giving him instructions to keep silent about what had occurred that evening. Arthur had then ordered the carriage driven directly to Lady Wilmington’s address.

Footsteps sounded at last in the hallway. A few seconds later the door opened warily. A sleepy-eyed maid dressed in a cap and a thin wrapper gazed out at them. She held a candle in one hand.

“What’s this all about? Ye must have the wrong house, sir.”

“This is the right house.” Arthur shouldered his way through the opening. “Summon Lady Wilmington immediately. Tell her this is a matter of great urgency. Life or death.”

“Life or death?” The maid stood back, her face scrunching in horror.

Elenora took advantage of the woman’s startled nerves to nip through the doorway behind Arthur. She smiled calmly.

“Go and tell Lady Wilmington that St. Merryn and his fiancée are here,” she said firmly. “I’m sure she will see us.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The clear instructions seemed to steady the maid’s jangled nerves. She lit another candle on the hall table and then hastened up the stairs.

A short time later she hurried back down.

“Her ladyship says to tell ye that she’ll join ye in the study in a moment.”

***

“I still say we should have given this matter more close thought before coming here tonight,” Elenora declared.

She sat tensely in a dainty chair in the elegant little study. The candle that the maid had lit for them sat on the beautifully inlaid writing desk near the window.

“The reference to a second Newton cannot have been a coincidence. You know that as well as I do.” Arthur prowled the small room, his hands clasped behind his back. “Lady Wilmington is the key to this puzzle. I can feel it in my bones.”

She was in perfect agreement with his conclusions; it was the way he intended to confront Lady Wilmington that worried her. This was a delicate matter. It should have been approached more subtly.

“Earlier this evening I could not help but recall our visit with her,” she said. “I kept thinking about the way she touched her locket whenever she spoke of Treyford. It occurred to me that, if they were lovers, perhaps there had been a child-”

“Not a son.” Arthur shook his head. “I investigated that possibility tonight. Lady Wilmington’s only male heir is a staid, extremely stout, respectable gentleman who, by all accounts, takes after her husband in his looks and also in his intellectual interests. He is devoted to his estates and never cared for matters of science.”

“St. Merryn.” Lady Wilmington spoke from the doorway, her voice flat with resignation. “Miss Lodge. So you somehow discovered the truth. I feared that you would.”

Arthur stopped his pacing and looked toward the doorway. “Good evening, madam. I can see that you know why we are here at this late hour.”

“Yes.” Lady Wilmington walked slowly into the study.

She looked much older tonight, Elenora thought, aware of a stark pity for the once beautiful and still proud woman. Lady Wilmington’s gray hair was not in a fashionable chignon tonight. Instead, it was tucked up under a white cap. She had the haggard look of someone who has not slept well in recent days. Her hands were bare of rings, and no pearls gleamed at her ears.

But Elenora noticed that she wore the gold locket around her throat.

Lady Wilmington sat down in the chair that Arthur held for her. “You have come here to ask about my grandson, haven’t you?”

Arthur was riveted. “Yes, of course,” he said very softly.

“He is Treyford’s grandson, isn’t he?” Elenora asked gently.

“Yes.” Lady Wilmington focused her attention on the flaring candle. “Treyford and I were passionately in love. But I was married with two children by my husband. There was nothing to be done when I discovered that I was to bear my lover’s babe. I pretended that Wilmington was the father and, of course, under the law there was no question but that he was my daughter’s sire. No one suspected the truth.”

“Did Treyford know that you had borne his child?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. He was quite pleased. He talked at length of how he would supervise her education in the manner of a concerned friend of the family. He promised to draw up elaborate plans to see that she was instructed in natural philosophy and mathematics from the cradle.”

“But then Treyford was killed in that explosion in his laboratory” Arthur said.

“I thought my heart would break that day when the news reached me that he was dead.” Lady Wilmington touched her locket with her fingertips. “I consoled myself with the knowledge that I had his child. I vowed to educate Helen as Treyford had in tended. But although she was extremely intelligent, she showed no interest in science or mathematics. The only subject that drew her was music. She played and composed brilliantly, but I knew that Treyford would have been so disappointed.”

“However, when she married, your daughter bore a son who did possess both Treyford’s great mind and his passion for science.” Arthur gripped the back of a chair, watching Lady Wilmington very closely. “Is that correct, madam?”

Lady Wilmington toyed with the locket. “Parker is the very image of Treyford at that age. The likeness is astonishing. When my daughter and her husband were taken off by a fever, I vowed to raise my grandson as Treyford would have wished.”

“You told him the truth about his grandfather’s identity, didn’t you?” Elenora said quietly.

“Yes. When he was old enough to understand, I told him about Treyford. He deserved to know that the blood of true genius ran in his veins.”

“You told him that he was the direct descendant of the man who could have been England’s second Newton,” Arthur said. “And Parker set out to fulfill his grandfather’s legacy.”

“He studied all of the subjects that had so fascinated Treyford,” she whispered.

Elenora looked at her. “Including alchemy?”

“Yes.” Lady Wilmington shuddered. “You must believe me when I tell you that I tried to steer Parker away from that dark path. But as he grew older, he showed signs of taking after Treyford in ways other than his intellectual interests.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“Parker’s temperament became increasingly unpredictable as the years passed. He would be joyous and cheerful for no obvious reason. And then, without warning, his spirits would sink to a level that made me fear that he might take his own life. Only his alchemical studies seemed to have the power to distract him when he was in such a mood. Two years ago he went to Italy to continue his investigations.”

“When did he return?” Arthur asked.

“A few months ago.” Lady Wilmington sighed in pain. “I was so happy to have him back, but I soon realized that whatever he had learned in Italy had only deepened his commitment to alchemy. He demanded to see Treyford’s journals and papers. I had stored them in a trunk.”

“You gave them to him?” Elenora asked.

“I hoped that would satisfy him. But I fear that I only made things worse. I knew he had embarked upon some secret project, but I did not know what it was that he hoped to create.”

“What did you assume that he was trying to do?” Arthur asked coldly, “discover the Philosopher’s Stone? Transmute lead into gold?”

“You mock me, sir, but I tell you in all truth, Parker is sunk so deep into his occult researches that he believes such things are possible.”

“When did you first realize that he was determined to construct the device described in the
Book
of Stones?” Arthur asked.

Lady Wilmington looked at him with sad resignation. “Not until you came to see me the other day and told me that both Glentworth and your great-uncle had been murdered and that their snuffboxes had been stolen. I knew then what Parker intended.”

“And you also knew that he had gone beyond being an eccentric genius,” Arthur said. “You realized that he had become a murderer.”