nineteen
ROYSTON WASN’T A politician.
He aspired to hold a seat in the House of Lords, but he preferred taking action to negotiating with only his oratorical skill, which wasn’t great. Last night’s unfortunate incident with Mrs. Haywood was proof of that.
He should have handled the situation better, made his argument stronger. Instead, Mrs. Haywood had been furious with him, and Angeline hadn’t agreed to marry him. Understandable. Instead of talking about how achingly he cared about Angeline, he’d discussed with her the practical aspects of being married.
Havisham’s behaviour left him perplexed. If he’d set up the break-in and the police, Royston couldn’t understand why. His motive was missing. The evidence pointed at Mrs. Haywood, but the list was nowhere to be found, and he didn’t trust her. Angeline instead loved her mother too much to be objective.
Royston was in his sitting room, pondering his next move, when the butler announced the earl had just arrived. Speaking of the devil.
“Shall I let Lord Havisham in, my lord?” Enright asked. “Or shall I tell him you aren’t receiving anyone today?”
Tempting. But if he wanted to understand what Havisham had in mind, he should pretend not to have figured out anything.
“Let him in, Enright, and please bring tea.”
Havisham walked into the room with tentative steps, his face pale. His hair was dishevelled, and the handkerchief in his breast pocket seemed to have been stuffed without regard for the fabric.
“Wharton, thank you for seeing me without notice.”
As usual. “Havisham. It’s becoming a habit. Please take a seat.”
The earl didn’t talk until Enright had served the tea and left the room.
“What upsets you?” Royston asked.Your plan didn’t go as you wanted, did it?
“How did last night go? You didn’t send me any messages.”
“A fiasco, I’d dare to say. I didn’t find anything else in the safe.” He watched Havisham for any reaction.
The earl ignored his tea. “Did you break into the house?”
“I did. Everything went well.”
The earl frowned. “Miss Haywood was at home though. She didn’t come to the soirée.”
He huffed as if it didn’t matter. “She was sound asleep. She didn’t rouse, and I’m quite silent.”
The frown deepened. “I see.”
“Do you have any idea where Mrs. Haywood might keep the infamous list?”
“No. Perhaps you could try again. Search other rooms. I’ll organise something else to keep Mrs. and Miss Haywood busy.”
No, enough. Royston wouldn’t play that game again. Mrs. Haywood wasn’t a saint, but Havisham wasn’t innocent either. Royston had followed enough pieces of advice from the earl.
“Havisham, I don’t intend to break into Mrs. Haywood’s house again.”
“Well, if you don’t want to help those women, it’s up to you. I thought you cared.”
Royston straightened. No, the guilt trick wouldn’t work. “I can’t keep breaking the law.” He stared at the earl. “Sooner or later, someone might notice and warn the police.”
Havisham lost his concerned expression, his facial muscles tightening.
“Besides, I can have a simple chat with Mrs. Haywood about her illegal activities.” Something he should have done a while ago. “Once I’m a member of the House of Lords, things will be different.”
“Of course.” He lifted his cup and put it down without drinking. “Well, I hope you’ll be present at the next ball. Lady Redvers will be delighted to have your appointment as a member of the House of Lords announced at her event. If she agrees to invite you, of course.”
