Page 16 of Taken to the Grave
“Do you assume, or do you know?” Hugh asked, again.
Sir Gabriel exhaled, took a moment to deliberate, and then opened a desk drawer. He presented a letter, folded, and dropped it onto the desk. Hugh took it, wondering why Mrs. Silas and Lady Rebecca had failed to tell him about the note Bethany left behind.
But as he started to read, he realized it was something else entirely.
“Hell,” he muttered, dropping the letter to the desk once he’d finished.
“There is no way to know if Bethany is aware of these demands, but either way, she’s ruined—utterly and thoroughly—unless she returns as Mrs. Travis Comstock. So, Mr. Silas has answered the demands of this blackguard bounder in the affirmative and is now simply awaiting their return from Gretna Green.”
Sir Gabriel retrieved the letter, in which Comstock, writing in fanciful language, all but ransomed a generous yearly allowance on top of Bethany’s modest dowry in order to see the elopement through. In no uncertain terms, Comstock threatened to return Bethany, unwed and scandalized, should his demands not be met.
“When did Mr. Silas receive this?” Hugh asked.
“The day after Bethany failed to return home from Vauxhall.”
So, she’d been gone for one night; long enough to coax her parents into a panic.
“And why was her mother not made aware of this?” Hugh asked.
“Ignorance is bliss, Marsden. You of all people should know.”
Hugh scowled. Sir Gabriel was surely referencing Hugh’s own prior ignorance to the truth of his birth. He’d been heir to the viscountcy all along, not an illegitimate ward. The chief magistrate knew him well enough to know that he would trade it in for his old life in a heartbeat, if only it were possible.
“I’m surprised Comstock settled on someone like Bethany for his scheming,” Hugh said, still bothered by the whole situation, and not just the deviousness of it. It was a unilateral union, at best. “Silas is landed gentry. A squire, just as Comstock is. Why not aim higher?”
Sir Gabriel stood, groaning as if his knees bothered him. “My brother-in-law is by no means a wealthy man, but he can affordthe demanded allowance. He also has little power or clout to do anything more about it. As for Bethany herself, I don’t wish to speak ill of my niece, but she is plain, and her charms are few. She would have been easy to persuade. Comstock chose his quarry wisely, as far as I’m concerned.”
When put like that, Hugh found he agreed. That he’d lied about having a sister, hired someone to stand in as the fabricated relation, and then also lied about where he was leasing rooms…it all spoke to his ultimate deception. Which seems to have gone off without a hitch.
Why, then, did the faintest of barbed friction remain just under Hugh’s skin when he thought of Bethany?
“They should be returning within a day, I would imagine,” Hugh said, having calculated the length of the journey to the Scottish border and back.
Sir Gabriel grimaced. “And I will be forced to give my congratulations, no doubt.” He then narrowed his eyes further, deepening the crease that divided the bridge of his nose and his forehead. “You have also come here to discuss the happenings at Vauxhall, I am sure.”
“Happeningsis a mild description, one that might befit the society pages. These aremurders, though no one in London seemed to know about them until this morning thanks to someone here at Bow Street.”
The Morning Posthad exclusively printed the story, and Hugh was certain a Vauxhall worker had tipped off the publication after last night’s debacle.
Hugh held Sir Gabriel’s darkening stare. He no longer answered to the knight. Respecting him did not mean he had to bow down to him or tuck his tail and flee.
The chief magistrate skirted Hugh’s pointed comment. “I am aware you found the body at the Cascade.”
A pert knock landed on the closed office door, cutting into the chief’s agitated statement.
“What is it?” he bellowed.
The door opened, and a clerk stood aside to permit a visitor. Hugh raised a brow as Audrey entered the office. He should have expected to see her here.
“Your Grace,” Sir Gabriel said, only slightly tempering his previous tone.
She gave the chief magistrate a placating grin; the one she reserved for those she thought were being petulant and hotheaded. She’d worn it a time or two for Hugh.
“I’m just in time, I see. Yes, Hugh found the body at the Cascade,” she said. “We both did.”
“Listening at doors, Your Grace?” The magistrate re-took his seat, but Audrey didn’t quaver from the chastising.
“Hardly,” she said as the door shut behind her. “Your voice is equal to the blast of a bugle, Sir Gabriel. I practically heard you shouting at the viscount when I stepped through the front door.”
