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Whittiker bristled beneath the viscount’s contempt. ‘Circumstances have changed.’
James had been incensed to learn that Elise Dewey and her sister had bolted. Of course, should he spill the beans, a furore would still erupt, but the damage to the Dewey family wouldn’t be as potent. The fun of a scandal was in seeing despair crippling the prey when they were shunned and tattled about.
Arabella Dewey’s antics had already besmirched the family’s name and were another reason James feared his revelation might not have the required impact. The news of Elise’s wanton behaviour might simply incite some muttering about bad blood running in families before people turned their attention to juicier on dits doing the rounds.
Since he’d last come to Upper Brook Street James had tested the waters, but sensed no undercurrent of fearful expectancy leaking out from the girls’ kith and kin. On paying a visit on the Chapmans he’d found them to be no different, and the topic of the sisters’ return home had prompted Maude to voice her regret at their departure and her hope that their aunt Dolly might persuade them to return to town.
James was ready to believe such people might still be in blissful ignorance of what lay in wait for Elise Dewey. But it was the viscount’s attitude that really agitated him. Blackthorne was treating him as he had before the day he’d issued a threat to blackmail. Alex regularly turned up at White’s and extended to him his customary weary courtesy before settling down to drink, gamble and converse with his friends.
James understood there was a possibility Blackthorne would flout the law and summon him to a dawn meeting. In that eventuality Whittiker knew he’d have no option but to attempt a humiliating withdrawal from the débâcle. The viscount’s skill with weapons had been honed over many years in the military and far outstripped his mediocre talent with sword and pistol. James was counting on the noble fellow being as reluctant to risk arrest as he was of risking his life. But Blackthorne was playing his cards too close to his chest and James was sweating on the outcome of the game. He feared the whole episode might simply blow over with no gain made.
Thus he’d decided to make a premature visit to Upper Brook Street, to urgently discover what Blackthorne planned to do and with the intention of turning the screws if necessary.
Impatient to get rid of his unwanted caller, Alex prompted harshly, ‘You said circumstances have changed. Elaborate or be gone if you please. I’m on my way out as you can see.’
‘The Dewey sisters have left town,’ James muttered.
Alex shrugged bewilderment. ‘Were you expecting they might consult you before returning home?’
‘If you think sending her away will dissuade me from pursuing this matter...’ James hissed.
‘Please excuse me, my lord...’ Robinson had coughed loudly, then come into view to address his master. ‘The curricle has been brought round. Shall I have your belongings loaded on...or send it back if you are to be a while?’ He shot a pained look at Whittiker. When the fellow had turned up the butler had been in two minds whether to turn him away without recourse to his employer. But the viscount had been strolling the corridor towards him and had heard the bang on the door so there had been no opportunity to shoo the dumpy fellow down the steps. The viscount was a good and fair employer, but he demanded conscientious obedience in return for the generous wages he paid.
Robinson had read Alex Blackthorne’s displeasure in his face when he broke the news of his caller’s identity. Following the order to let Whittiker in and banish any servants from the hall while a meeting took place, the butler had set about attending to his master’s travelling needs. Robinson had drawn some satisfaction from the fact that the viscount had denied the fellow an audience in his study.
‘I’m ready to leave. Carry on with loading up if you please.’ Alex approached his butler to take his coat.
‘You’re going out of town?’ Whittiker sounded alarmed.
‘I’ve estate matters to deal with. Robinson will show you out.’ Without another glance Alex moved in the direction of the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Whitening in indignation, Whittiker stomped ahead of the butler to the great doors and affected not to notice the manservant concealing his contentment behind compressed lips.
Alex’s expression, as he strode along the corridor in the direction of his chamber, was no less grim than Whittiker’s had been moments ago. He hadn’t lied to Whittiker: he was going to Blackthorne Hall. But he wouldn’t be there for long. He intended spending no more than a day in Berkshire before heading towards Hertfordshire. He wondered if Elise would be as glad to see him as he would be to see her...
