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“Esther is waiting for you,” Charles said again, wondering if it was the name of his daughter that had roused him. “She is longing to see you again, Lord Leighton.”
“Esther.”
The man’s voice was weak, his word only just loud enough for Charles to hear.
“Esther is waiting for you,” he said, throwing Lord Watt a despondent glance. He did not think that Lord Leighton would be able to give them much information in his current state. “We have a carriage to take you to her.”
Lord Leighton shifted uncomfortably again, and Charles placed one hand against the man’s forehead. He was burning hot.
“Fever,” he muttered, as Lord Leighton finally managed to open his eyes. He shifted deliriously, his gaze roving from one person to the next, and Charles knew that the man did not recognize anyone. A stream of incomprehensible words came flowing from Lord Leighton’s lips, his daughter’s name mentioned more than once.
And then, another name that Charles recognized.
“Ho…garth.”
Charles frowned, leaning closer to Lord Leighton and trying to make sense of what was being said. “I do not understand, Lord Leighton,” he said gently. “Did you speak of Hogarth?”
Behind him, a small sound escaped from the man named Leadsom, whom Lord Riggerton had managed to capture. The man with the scar.
A thrill of dread ran down Charles’s spine. He turned slowly and looked towards Leadsom, who was bound and gagged and tied to an old wooden chair. Leadsom’s eyes were shifting this way and that, his brow furrowed low and his shoulders lifting with tension.
“Hogarth,” Charles repeated, walking closer to Leadsom and pointing at him. “You know him.”
Leadsom said nothing, not even lifting his gaze towards Charles as he advanced.
“You know Hogarth,” Charles said again, as Lord Watt sucked in a breath. “Tell me how you know him.”
Again, Leadsom said nothing. He looked away from Charles, away from Lord Watt, and set his gaze on the other side of the room. Charles gritted his teeth, his jaw working furiously as he found himself facing a difficult opponent and knowing that he could not use brute force against the man. He needed to know what Leadsom was hiding – which would either confirm or deny his slow-growing fear.
“You are about to face charges of treason.” Lord Watt stepped forward, his eyes trained on Leadsom. “You do know what the penalty for such a thing is, do you not?” Charles watched as Leadsom’s eyes flicked back towards Lord Watt,
seeing how they flared momentarily. Yes, he was quite certain that Leadsom knew the penalty for such a thing.
“If you speak of what you know,” Lord Watt continued calmly, “if you tell us how you know Hogarth, then I will speak to the Prince Regent on your behalf. I will tell him that you were willing to speak honestly to us.” He arched one eyebrow, tilting his head just a little. “Do you not think that an excellent prospect? Rather than hanging, you will live. Is not your very life worth more than any loyalty you believe you have to another gentleman?” He threw Charles a swift glance, a hard look in his eyes. Clearly he too suspected that Hogarth was now somehow involved.
A sickening feeling tugged at Charles’s gut. He had sent Lady Esther and Lady Ware with Lord Hogarth, believing him to be entirely trustworthy. Another thought struck him hard, making his head ache suddenly as he slammed his forehead into his hand.
“The shot,” he said, seeing Leadsom’s eyes widen again. “Lord Hogarth was present not long afterwards. I believed him to be there by chance and took advantage of his presence to safely move Lady Esther and Lady Ware to the carriage. But now that I consider this, I must wonder if Lord Hogarth himself was the one who attempted to kill Lady Esther!”
A muffled noise came from Leadsom and, stepping forward, Lord Watt yanked the gag away.
“Not to kill,” Leadsom said, his voice flat and dull. “Just to injure. In an attempt to get Leighton to tell us where the cipher was.”
Charles closed his eyes, swaying on the spot. Lord Hogarth was a traitor. He had been working against them, working to try and find first Lord Leighton and then the cipher.
“Hogarth was with Sir Taylor,” Leadsom continued, clearly now willing to speak the entire truth to them both. “Sir Taylor told him before he died that the cipher was gone to an old friend.” He glanced from Charles to Lord Watt and back again. “It took a bit of time for Hogarth to work out that it was Lord Leighton. I had made some inquiries, of course, but that was all it was. And by the time we worked out that it was Lord Leighton, the man was gone.”
Charles’s stomach tightened, and he had to restrain himself from lashing out at the man before him. “He took the cipher and ran.”
Leadsom rolled his eyes, as though Charles was being utterly idiotic. “Hogarth was angry with me for not doing more to Leighton, so I was tasked with finding him.”
“And you thought to try his daughter,” Charles bit out, remembering how the hackney had slammed into the one containing Lady Esther. “Is that right?” He wanted to grab Leadsom by the throat, to demand that he tell him where Lord Hogarth was at this very moment, but by sheer force of will restrained himself. This had to be done. Leadsom had to speak; he had to tell everything one bit at a time.
“She was foolish trying to get into The Shrew,” Leadsom said, with a small smile that made his eyes glint with dark intent. “I only saw her by chance and had to do what I could to find out the truth. Although I soon realized she didn’t know where he was.”
“But you discovered him anyway,” Lord Watt said softly. “In the end.”
Leadsom sniffed disdainfully. “In the end, yes,” he replied proudly. “Lord Hogarth found out that Lord Leighton used to have an old house in the darker parts of London, where he went to hide sometimes, back when he worked for The King’s League.” This was said with such mockery that Charles found himself taking a step forward, before Lord Watt put out a restraining hand. “You can’t imagine the look on Lord Leighton’s face when he saw Hogarth. Thought he was come to help him, given that he was at such a loss as to what to do next.” He chuckled, and the room seemed to grow all the darker. “We soon made him realize that he was mistaken.”
