not obedient, my wife. “Most of that I can do from this house, with a few visits from my man of business. I have already accepted invitations for evening outings, but on those I will be surrounded by friends. Many of these friends you do not care for, so you will not be with me to endanger me.”
“I hardly want you rushing about London without me at your side,” I began sternly.
“If this man will only hurt me if I am with you, as you have declared, then I will have to go about on my own.” Donata’s eyes were an intense blue, framed with black lashes. “I am not a fool, Gabriel. If there is true danger, I will stay home. But I must see to things. There are investments to look after, plans to make for Peter and Anne. You and I have three estates between us, plus the house in Brighton that will be let once the renovations are finished. I cannot allow Mr. Denis and his battles keep me from my affairs. It will be much faster to make arrangements while I am in London, with solicitors and men of business within reach, than wait for letters in Oxfordshire.”
“I wish you were an ordinary woman,” I said in despondency. “One who meekly tells her husband he has the right of it and lets him take care of her business.”
Donata gave a little laugh. “You would have grown hopelessly weary of me by now. You traded learning how to run estates to join the army, while I have been immersed in such things all my life, so you must leave them to me.”
“Even so …”
Donata laid down her pen and turned to me squarely. “We are having this argument the wrong way about. It is you who should flee to Oxfordshire or to Grenville’s so I will not have to worry about you being felled by this Mr. Creasey.”
“I would.” I leaned an elbow on her desk. “Except I met a friend today.”
Donata’s expression held wary curiosity as I launched into the tale of Eden and our visit to Bow Street.
“You wish to help him,” she said when I finished. “The fact that you will not turn aside when a person is in need is a reason I am fond of you.” Donata patted the arm that rested on the desk. “However, it is most inconvenient at times. I gather from your glumness that you are uncertain of Major Eden’s innocence.”
“He is vague concerning his whereabouts, as well as his reasons for visiting Warrilow and the ship’s hold, and for leaving Antigua at all. I will have to make him see that the truth will help him more than evasion.”
“Unless he did kill this man,” Donata pointed out.
“It would be unlike him. Miles Eden was always fair and level-headed. Even when others tried to provoke him or start fights—bored soldiers get up to much between battles—he managed to remain above it all, talking others into calm. He’s not a man to lose his temper and bash another over the head.”
“Yet he admits he came to blows with Mr. Warrilow.”
“In a fair fight. Not sneaking into the man’s rooms and finishing him off.”
Donata patted my arm again, gently. “Perhaps this time you ought to let things alone.”
“Possibly.” I could take Peter and Anne to Oxfordshire and insist Donata come with us, using my position as her husband to give the command weight. In theory, she had agreed to obey me when she took her wedding vows.
“If Eden is the only person who can be fitted for this crime, Pomeroy will arrest him again,” I said. “Sir Nathaniel wasn’t certain of Eden’s guilt, I could tell, though he had doubts. If I can help prove Eden is innocent, then I can leave London with a clear conscience.”
“Meanwhile, Mr. Denis’s foes hunt you down?”
Donata spoke the words casually, but I saw worry in her eyes.
“I will find out what this business with Mr. Creasey is all about. He might have no interest in me at all. I might be an associate of Denis, rather against my will, but by no means do I work for him. I do not smuggle paintings or hire forgers or steal artwork, and whatever else he gets up to.”
“You are friends with magistrates,” Donata reminded me. “You can tell them about Mr. Creasey.”
“I intend to.”
The magistrate of the Whitechapel house, Sir Montague Harris, was wont to listen to me. Likewise, Sir Nathaniel would be interested