Page 57 of An Unusual Wager

“No. He’s never in my nightmares.” She didn’t need to know what and who was.

“Why do you think you saw him then, after what must be many years?”

He pressed his lips together. “It isn’t after many years. I’ve seen him all too recently. And it wasn’t so much seeing his face that startled me, but what he was wearing and where he seemed to be.”

“Go on. Talking could help you remember more.”

The sun was warm on his back. “He was dressed like a common footpad, for want of any other way of describing him.” He paused again. “I think he was there when I was attacked. In disguise.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think it possible?”

He considered his answer. Did she need to know? Somehow, confiding in her seemed natural. “I think it might be. I think he must have been with them.”

Her turn to frown. “But why? It isn’t as if you were the one who’d been doing the bullying, and he wanted revenge on you. He was your bully. You should have been the one wanting revenge. So why would he hold some kind of a grudge against you?”

Jonathan tried stretching his stiff back, but that only hurt his ribs more. “My father ruined Teesdale’s father, I’m afraid. He did to Teesdale Senior what I did to your father. Won all his money. Only with Teesdale it was a house as well, and a small estate. Everything the man owned. My father didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. But he liked winning.” His voice had become bitter again. “He always insisted on winning. At everything.”

“So Teesdale wanted to punish you for what he saw as the sins of your father?”

“Possibly. His father had shot himself, you see, not long after I went to Eton. Perhaps he saw my arrival there as a chance to wreak revenge on the son of the man he thought had caused his father’s death.” He sighed. “But he was four years my senior and after my first year there, he left. Thank goodness. I had no idea he might be harboring such a grudge.”

“It does seem a long time to do so.” Verity touched his arm with her fingertips. “Let’s get back inside, shall we, and see what your Mrs. Lovell has prepared for your dinner. No doubt it will be something she thinks appropriate for an invalid.”

He gave a rueful chuckle. “I have to admit that in matters of food I do feel I might be a genuine invalid. So long as it doesn’t arrive in a damned cup with a spout as though I were ninety or so. She probably has a collection of them to use for my grandmother on her bad days.”

But he had to admit that he was hungry.

Verity located Walter and Robert back in the library after dinner that evening, smoking and drinking port. Thanks to her persuasion, Jonathan had agreed to go upstairs to bed. He’d been looking more and more drawn as the meal went on, with dark circles under his eyes that were quite worrying. His lack of rebellion over this reinforced her opinion that he must be exhausted.

Walter looked up as she entered the library, a slightly guilty expression on his face. “Good heavens,” he said in mock astonishment, “can’t a fellow get a bit of peace from the petticoats?”

Robert was more welcoming. “I’ve been wanting to reminisce about our childhoods with Verity ever since we got here. You can keep drinking your port if she’s here, can’t you, brother? Nothing to stop you doing that.”

Verity sat down in the winged chair Jonathan had occupied that morning. “I’ll have a glass myself, thank you. And I didn’t come here to reminisce. I came here to obtain some truths.”

“Truths?” Walter looked uncomfortable.

She nodded. “Yes. Truths. Neither of you got your head knocked about by those footpads. So you know what happened. Were you both there?”

“Just Walter,” Robert said, as though in a hurry to absolve himself. “I was on my way back to his lodgings, where I’ve been staying.”

Verity fixed Walter with a hard stare. “You’d better tell me about it then.”

He shifted under her gaze. “We was set upon by footpads, Coz. That’s all there is to say.”

She shook her head. “That’s not the whole truth, is it?”

“You’ll have to tell her,” Robert said. “She’s his wife. And she’s Verity. You can’t resist her determination, believe me.”

“Well?” Verity said.

Walter glared at his brother. “Perhaps they weren’t quite regular footpads.”

She nodded. “I suspected as much. Jonnie’s memory is coming back, but only in small shreds. You’d better tell me. Knowing the truth will help him.”

“I suspect they were after Jonnie. Not me.”

Robert nodded. “You know they were.”