Page 81 of The Duke of Lies
“I know.” And with that, Kit marched out as if he were walking the plank.
Chapter 18
Verity couldn’t manageto stop shaking as she sat with Diana in the drawing room as Simon welcomed four guests—Nick, Bran Crowther, Earl of Knighton, Titus St. John, Duke of Kendal, and Daniel Carlyle, Viscount Carlyle. Simon introduced the latter three ending with Lord Carlyle, a rather tall gentleman with steely, blue-gray eyes and thick, dark hair. “We’re lucky Bran has become friendly with Carlyle who was, until recently inheriting his title, a constable.”
“How fortuitous,” Diana said brightly, giving Verity’s hand a squeeze.
“I’ve told them all what’s happened,” Simon said, clutching Cuddy’s ledger in his hand. He looked pointedly at Verity. “All of it, including Kit’s true identity.”
They’d agreed that was necessary. There was no reason to keep it secret, not when Kit had been prepared to announce it. She and Kit still hadn’t determined how things would play out—there hadn’t been time. But she’d meant what she told him: she just wanted him.
Verity looked at Lord Carlyle, who sat in a chair near the settee. “You know all the charges against him?”
“Yes. The murder accusations are, of course, the most concerning. However, am I correct in understanding that he did commit fraud?”
Verity shook her head. “Not precisely. He pretended to be my husband so we could uncover my father’s crimes.” It was her turn to lie, and she would do so willingly to keep her family together and safe.
“So he never intended to claim the dukedom?” Carlyle asked, glancing toward Simon.
“No.” The lie scalded her tongue, but she didn’t care.
“He did not,” Simon echoed. Before he’d gone to solicit help from these men, she’d talked with him and Diana, and Simon had pledged to do whatever necessary to keep Kit from jail—or worse. They were, he’d said, family.
Carlyle nodded. “Then that shouldn’t be a problem either. Do you know if Mr. Kingman has proof that Mr. Powell killed either of these men?”
“Captain Powell,” Verity corrected softly. “He captained his own ship. No, I can’t believe he does.” But since Kithadkilled Cuddy, she feared it was possible. Oh, why hadn’t he gone directly to the constable? She knew why, and she told herself to stop fretting about things they couldn’t change. “If we can prove he was embezzling from my estate, he may drop the charges.”
Lord Carlyle’s eyebrows rose. “You plan to extort him? I can’t be a party to that.”
“Of course not,” she said. “But if I can prove my father’s criminal activities, we may be able to show that he was trying to cover them by falsely accusing Kit. There’s something else.” She took a deep breath. “We suspect my father may have had something to do with my husband’s disappearance nearly seven years ago.”
“I see.” Lord Carlyle tapped a finger against his chin. “Your father is accusing Captain Powell of killing the Duke of Blackburn. It’s not uncommon for a man to accuse another of that of which he is guilty. I’ve seen it many times.”
Diana let out a soft gasp, and Verity clasped her hand.
“Let us try to find the evidence we need, then,” Lord Carlyle said. “May I see this ledger?”
Simon opened the book and handed it to him. “We know who the CS is.”
The former constable studied the ledger. “The sideways cross is likely the Blades, a group of criminals that does favors for middle- and upper-class folks—for a price.” He flipped through a few pages. “These are quarterly payments to them in the same amount. Looks like extortion to me.” He glanced up at Simon. “Is that correct?”
“That’s what we suspect. But we didn’t know what the cross represented.”
“My apologies,” Lord Carlyle said with a faint smile. “I shouldn’t have called it a cross as you did. It’s a sword. If it were a cross, it would be vertical. And the longer line has a bit more length than your typical cross.”
Verity now wondered why they’d ever thought it was a cross to begin with. Had they missed something obvious with the twenty-two G? She thought hard and, as realization hit her, brought her hand to her forehead. “The final code is my father’s address. Twenty-two Grafton Street. You’ve made me think of something else.” On the journey from Beaumont Tower, she and Kit had discussed the pair of men from London who had visited Cuddy on a regular basis. He suspected they’d come to collect the money that was catalogued in the ledger. She rose from the settee as excited energy pulsed through her. “Every quarter, two men came to Blackburn from London to see Cuddy. Kit thought they might be collecting payments. Perhaps they’re from this Blades group.”
“It’s possible,” Lord Carlyle said. “That would be a strong connection to make. However, it would be even better if we could discover what these payments to the Blades and to Cuddy were for. They’re static.” He gave her a pointed look. “Quarterly, in fact, which seems to indicate an extortion schedule. Do you know the basis for the extortion?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure Cuddy was extorting anyone. I think that was simply his fee, but I doubt we’ll ever know since he’s dead.” She inwardly winced. Kit was accused of his death, and of that, he was guilty, even though it was in self-defense. What were they going to do about that? She worked to ignore a fresh stab of fear. “I don’t know about the Blades. Other than they may have come to Blackburn each quarter.”
“I think I know,” Simon said. “The payments to the Blades started after the duke disappeared. Kit thinks it may have something to do with that. And if your father was also receiving money and was somehow involved with Rufus’s disappearance, it’s all just a bit too coincidental now, isn’t it?”
Verity felt as if the floor was evaporating beneath her. Diana had stood with her and now, sensing Verity’s distress, put her arm around Verity’s waist.
“What must we do to free Kit?” Verity asked as the fear curdled in her gut.
“We need to discover what your father was paying to hide—if indeed that’s what he was doing.”
