‘Not even the viscount?’ There was a crafty gleam in Ruby’s eye.
‘Especially not my brother,’ said Jacob. ‘He’s far too interested in my doings already.’
‘Oh, very well. I’ll go upstairs as I’m not wanted here.’ She paused at the door to the stairs. ‘The viscount is coming back, isn’t he?’
‘I expect so. He’s not so easy to get rid of.’
She gave a nod as if something was confirmed in her mind, then headed upstairs.
Jacob cast a questioning look at Dora, who sighed: ‘I took a quick look in her bedroom. She’s altering a gown– one of my best gowns. She appears to be developing an attachment to your brother and has plans to make herself devastatingly pretty for his return. Alex momentarily distracted her from that thought but she’s now back to her original scheme.’
‘Impressing my brother? Good luck with that.’
‘Don’t underestimate Ruby.’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘Do you remember how they were when we came back and found her reading to him? There’s some tenderness between them if I’m not mistaken.’
It wouldn’t be the first actress his brother had taken up with, though Ruby’s condition did make it more complicated than a normal arrangement. Gentlemen were expected to make provision for their own by-blows, but not those of other men. Jacob felt a twinge of worry for his older brother and the wife that he was disrespecting with his weakness for a pretty face and tender manners. ‘He is vulnerable at the moment– taking on responsibilities he doesn’t quite know how to handle.’
‘So is she,’ said Dora defensively. ‘It’s not easy being an unmarried mother– or a married one for that matter.’
Was it that feeling of being out of their depth the very thing that was driving Arthur and Ruby together? He should tell his brother that he and Dora already planned to take care of Ruby. The viscount had no need to assume that role. ‘You have the right of it. Alex, why don’t you sit next to Dora?’
They arranged themselves at the table and Dora served the soup. ‘It’s a bit salty. I don’t think Ruby often cooks for herself,’ she said by way of apology.
Jacob took a sip of his spoonful. ‘I see what you mean.’ He reached for the jug of water. His brother’s unfortunate attachment would be cured by tasting one of Ruby’s meals.
Alex didn’t appear bothered by the saltiness. He made headway, finishing his bowl before Jacob had even got halfway through his. He pushed it back. ‘That’s very welcome, certainly better than army rations. I didn’t stop anywhere for long on the journey north, so I missed a couple of meals.’
‘You’ve news?’
‘Yes.’ He glanced towards the door. ‘Is she really gone?’ He was worried about eavesdroppers. Dora went to the door and opened it suddenly so that anyone listening at the crack would be surprised. The stairs were empty. She closed it softly.
‘She’s in her bedroom.’ Dora resumed her seat.
‘Who is she?’
‘A friend from my theatre days. More soup?’
Alex passed back his bowl. ‘Thank you. A fascinating woman. She fell on me when I arrived like I was that ham bone and she a famished dog. I was worried for my virtue several times.’
‘Forgive her. She’s worried for her future so she’s worse than usual,’ said Dora. ‘Now, we’re both dying of curiosity to find out what brought you here. Speak!’
‘You got our letter from Cockermouth?’ asked Jacob.
‘No, I’m afraid not. I must’ve left before it arrived,’ said Alex. ‘What did you find out?’
Jacob described the reaction of the locals, the high regard in which Leyburn was held.
‘We also discovered that he sponsored a local boy to go to university, a shepherd’s son,’ said Dora. ‘Luke Knotte is one of a group of radical young men who are holidaying together this summer. He fancies himself as Cumberland’s shepherd poet. And there’s more.’ Dora described the missing poem, the relevance to the London attack, the vanished Barton and the attack that laid Wright low last night or early that morning.
‘You think this Knotte is behind it all?’ asked Alex.
‘It seems likely,’ said Jacob, ‘but we only have circumstantial evidence, not proof.’
‘The circumstances being?’
