A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,75
Thomas wasn’t in any position to take action against him. He needed evidence to be certain of the outcome.
“The Earl of Aberland’s recent involvement in the dock has been a concern,” Sir Alexander added, as if thinking to himself, “but that will soon be addressed.”
“How so?” Thomas pressed, hoping the knight would share more.
“Only a wastrel like you would expect me to be stupid enough to share such details.” Sir Alexander shook his head. “Your father never hesitated to tell anyone who would listen what he thought of you. Your recent efforts to press for the truth, including your search of my library, are amusing. Especially coming from you. But that must end.”
“What makes you think I will comply with anything you’ve said?” Sir Alexander’s confidence made Thomas worry about what else he might have in mind.
“A plan is already in place for the next murder, although the victim is yet to be determined. However, it will be someone for whom you care. And it will be done just as described in A. Golden’s book. It might be your brother, Hugh. Perhaps Aberland or his wife. It could be the author herself, your betrothed.” Sir Alexander gave a careless shrug. “Who is to say? An opportunity will arise for one of them to die if you tell anyone about our conversation or fail to comply with my demands.”
“You would murder another innocent person simply to avenge a deed that happened years ago?” Thomas shook his head, refusing to allow the man to see the depth of the cold fear that spread through him.
“Haven’t you heard? Delayed vengeance is more satisfying. One has more time to savor the results. Having the East India Company’s resources at my disposal has eased my path and now is the perfect time to make Sir Reginald pay.”
“His dock is no threat to you or the Company,” Thomas argued.
“You’re right. It isn’t. But each time I travel past it on the way to the East India Company’s office, I am reminded of my failure. No more. I’ve convinced the Company that we need the dock, which fits nicely with my plan.”
“The atrocities you’re committing in the name of vengeance will eat at your soul.” Thomas detested the helpless anger that filled him, but it was better than helpless fear.
Sir Alexander chuckled. “How kind of you to worry about my soul. Trust me, it’s in good hands with the East India Company.” He rose from the chair. “Now then, I have no doubt I can count on your discretion in this matter, as well as your ability to carry out my requests.” The man leaned forward. “If you wish to keep those you care about free from harm, then simply do as I say. That shouldn’t be too hard, even for a worthless rake. We’ll be watching closely.”
~*~
Annabelle walked alongside Margaret through the Hadleys’ extensive garden, now filled with guests, all there to enjoy the fine afternoon, beautiful scenery, and some refreshments.
Their home was near Hyde Park and boasted several unusual varieties of roses, lilacs, snowdrops, and daffodils as well as boxwood hedges trimmed into neat rows, creating low walls around the many flower beds. A wrought-iron arch spanned one of the paths, softened by a climbing plant with blue blossoms. There were tall shrubs, rounded ones, and others trimmed into unusual geometric patterns. Somewhere amidst the garden was a fountain that boasted water faeries playing, but they hadn’t yet come across it.
“These are amazing.” Margaret stopped to admire a flower with red and white-striped petals. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have something like this in our garden?”
“Might I point out that you are rarely in our garden?” Annabelle raised a brow. Her sister spent much of her day sewing, drawing gowns, or reading about the latest fashions.
Margaret offered a one-shouldered shrug. “Perhaps I would if our garden looked like this.”
“It is delightful,” Annabelle admitted as she took in their surroundings.
Dozens of guests wandered about the garden’s paths to enjoy the flowers, the ladies’ gowns adding to the colorful view. A refreshment table stood under an awning where liveried footmen offered glasses of lemonade and champagne.
Lady Gold had remained home with their father, but Annabelle wished she’d come. Her mother enjoyed flowers even more than she and Margaret did, and the setting was truly delightful.
“Is Mr. Raybourne coming this afternoon?” Margaret asked.
“I believe so, though he didn’t say for certain.” Annabelle’s stomach fluttered at the thought. She told herself that she hoped to see him because she