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“You?” Michael said in surprise, for it was usually handled by Michael or one of their staff.
“I will.” James spoke carefully. “Marina told me what she judged of this man. His height, width,” he patted his stomach, “the fact he walks with a limp. I heard this man’s voice too. He might have tried to disguise it, but few can hide their own tone completely. If he is in this list…” he paused and patted the list of debtors’ names in front of him, “I will make sure I find him.”
“I pray you do.” Michael lifted a hand uneasily to the wound at the back of his own hand. It was healing though the anger still remained in Michael. “May the man burn for what he did that night to us all.”
James nodded in agreement. He was not a particularly violent man, but there was aggression there and certainly anger. To see so many he cared about hurt, to see Marina’s life in jeopardy, and his livelihood burned down – he wanted vengeance.
I will have it.
* * *
James sat very still in his office; the only movement came from his hand that repeatedly tapped the top of his ink well as he stared at the clock on the mantelpiece.
He’s late.
Distractedly, James turned his eyes out of the window. Beyond the glass, he could see Marina walking in the garden. Her mother had come to see her at last and her father too. The sight of the three of them walking together made James smile a little, praying that the tension in the family’s relationship was over.
When James had written to the Earl to tell him what had happened to his daughter, a reply had quickly been sent. He rather suspected Marina’s father had been shaken by the news and had realized what truly mattered in this world – his daughter, not his position.
James longed to be alone with Marina, but that would have to wait for now. He had business to attend to. Turning back, he faced the clock again, but it was nearly half past eleven, and the gentleman he was waiting on should have been there at eleven on the dot. Curious, James looked over the list of names before him.
All the men in debt had appointments to see him that morning, and all had come as requested, offering up their installments to repay their debts. Not one had matched the masked man in figure nor in voice, and now, this last man was suspicious in his absence.
James’ eyes landed on the man’s name.
The Marquess of Stanton.
James frowned as he read the name. He’d heard of the man though he had not met him. As far as he understood, the Marquess had great estates and a healthy inheritance. Yet the man was refusing to pay his bills to the gambling hall, and now, he hadn’t turned up to see James at all.
Standing, James took the Marquess’ address from his files and left the room, making his way to the door. He requested Mr. Pitt-Rivers leave a message for Marina that James would return soon then he was about to turn out the door to collect his horse when Mr. Pitt-Rivers held up a letter.
“Your Grace, I see you have missed your correspondence this morning. This arrived for you earlier.” He handed James the letter that he took quickly, noting the Marquess of Stanton’s emblem was in the red wax seal.
‘Your Grace, the Duke of Curton,
It is with regret that I cannot make the meeting you have requested today. I shall endeavor to meet with you another time.
Yours etcetera,
The Marquess of Stanton.’
James folded up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket, feeling the rudeness of the letter make his anger simmer. It was plain the Marquess was avoiding him, but to not offer a reason as to why he was avoiding the meeting was even stranger. He could have come up with any plain excuse, but he had not, suggesting the letter was written in a hurry and something of a panic.
Is it possible he is this masked man?
James thanked his butler and left the house, taking his horse quickly from his stable and leaving the grounds. He caught Marina’s eye in the garden as he left, watching as she lifted her hand to wave goodbye to him. Had her parents not been there, he would have gone to her side and embraced her. He seemed to find every opportunity to do so at the moment, terrified of losing her again, but he would not do so with her parents there. It was an intimacy he and Marina would share alone.
Leaving the house far behind, he crossed the town, heading for the Marquess of Stanton’s address. He found it eventually, the house set back from the road. Coming upon it, James sat forward in his saddle, noting with interest that the garden was overgrown as if no gardener was being paid to tend to it. The front of the house appeared a little untidy too as if no maid had cleaned the front steps.
Leaving the horse by the railings, for no stable boy appeared in order to take the horse from James, he stepped up to the house and knocked. The first knock wasn’t answered, so he knocked again, firmer this time.
At last, the door was answered. A staff member revealed himself at last, a short and portly fellow with white hair and sagging skin around his cheeks.
“Goodness, that is a loud knock!” he said in reprimand.
“It would not have been had my first knock been answered,” James said tartly. “The Duke of Curton to see the Marquess of Stanton.” The announcement of James’ title seemed to have an effect on the butler. The man scurried back a step, his eyes widening.
“I’m afraid my master is indisposed at present. He cannot take visitors.”
