Page 34 of Fatal By Design
So, Westbrook’s need for money might be dire. Buying into this silver venture could benefit him greatly. As would marrying Lady Redding, should she accept. Although, how would Westbrook even know of the ring, let alone that it was with Lady Redding? According to Cartwright no one knew he’d given the ring to her…except for possibly his valet.
As Basil hummed under his breath and re-pinned the cravat, Hugh’s mind shifted course.
“Say a man is divested from his valet,” he said. “Where would the valet go?”
Basil cut him a flat glare. “Your threats are becoming tedious.”
“I am not speaking of you this time. Answer the question.”
“Divested how?” Thornton asked.
“For instance, if he has a falling out with his family and leaves the household, not taking anyone or anything with him.”
Basil now observed his finished cravat knot with satisfaction. Turning to clean up the dressing room, he said, “I suppose he might be shuffled off to another male in the family who doesn’t already possess a servant, or who is unhappy with his current one. Thankfully, I have never been in that predicament. It is hardly enviable, for either party. Does this have to do with Granger?”
“No,” Hugh said, avoiding a look in the mirror for fear of laughing at his stuffy reflection. Basil adored a tight cravat knot, but as soon as he could, Hugh would loosen it to appear more like Thornton’s. “Do you know anything at all of Mr. Robert Henley? If he perhaps has a valet?”
Basil frowned as he removed the dinner jacket that had been hanging on the dressboy. “I’m not familiar with a Mr. Robert Henley.”
Sir perked again. “Is he a guest? I could nick into his room and do some snooping.”
“Unfortunately, he’s not. He was invited but couldn’t attend.” Hugh slid his arms into the dinner jacket and then submitted himself to more brushing and inspecting of the black superfine.
Thornton laid his book flat on his chest. “You’re thinking Cartwright’s former valet went to his cousin.”
“Perhaps.” Cartwright had, after all, mentioned their grandfather preferred Henley. “I’d like to find out.”
With a leap, Sir launched himself from the stool and grabbed his hat. “Finally, something interesting to do.” He darted from the dressing room and out of sight.
“Good, that will keep him busy and away from any unsuspecting blocks of wood,” Thornton said, folding his book and rising from the divan.
“I am only grateful the boy was whittling and not practicing his aim with that wretched slingshot,” Basil said, then glanced at Thornton with an exasperated sigh.
As soon as he left the room, Hugh tugged the cravat choking him. “I can hardly believe it—Basil resisted commenting on the creases you’ve just put in your jacket by lying around.”
“Baz is a treasure,” Thornton said, still sitting.
“Cartwright said his valet might have known about the ring going to Lady Redding, and if now that same valet is Mr. Henley’s…and Henley is running this investment venture…one that Westbrook needed a good chunk of funds to join…” But the threads began to cross, then tangle, and Hugh abandoned speaking. It made no sense aloud, but his gut still insisted there was something there.
He tugged on the cuffs of his dinner jacket and then stuck a finger down his cravat to pull some more.
“Something is different with you,” Thornton said.
Hugh peered at his friend, ready to laugh at the strange remark. But then he realized what Thornton must have perceived. They were as close as brothers, and Grant Thornton was eerily observant. If he had not already elected to send his father, the Marquess of Lindstrom into a fit of fury by entering the medical profession, he would have been just as effective as a Bow Street Runner.
Hugh looked away and into the mirror, pretending to care about the state of his neckcloth.
“Is it what I think it is?” Thornton pressed.
“I cannot read your mind.”
“You spent the night with her.”
The comment riled him unreasonably, and he couldn’t tamp it down. Hugh turned from the mirror to face his friend. “We are not discussing this.”
It only spurred Thornton on. He let out a low whistle. “You’ve never been secretive about your liaisons before.”
Hugh gritted his teeth and exhaled, trying to calm. Like a brother, Thornton enjoyed teasing. And Hugh would give it right back, in spades. However, nothing about Audrey was a lark.
