Who Speaks for the Damned (Sebastian St. Cyr #15) - C. S. Harris Page 0,74
was yours.”
Seaforth’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You can’t know that. No one knows that. In all likelihood, he’s nothing more than a half-Chinese by-blow. Even if he were by some miracle legitimate, I seriously doubt he could prove it.”
“I suspect Ji knows. And he could have the papers to prove it.”
Seaforth looked confused. “Who is Ji?”
“The child you’ve been trying to kill.”
A spark of aggrieved fury flared in the Earl’s pale gray eyes. “So what precisely are you suggesting I should do? Allow some dirty little foreigner to claim everything that is mine? Become a peer of the realm?”
Sebastian was having a hard time keeping his fists at his sides. “How did you know Hayes was in London? Did you see him?”
Seaforth shook his head. “No.”
“So how did you know?”
Seaforth glanced toward the door. But Sebastian was between the Earl and the exit. He was trapped and he knew it.
“Answer me, damn you,” said Sebastian.
“Brownbeck! Brownbeck told me.”
Bloody hell, thought Sebastian. “How did Brownbeck know?”
“He saw them. I don’t know where or how, but he told me because he thought I should know.”
“You mean, he told you because he was hoping you might kill them.”
Seaforth simply stared back at him, the freckles standing out stark against his pale flesh.
Sebastian said, “Did he tell anyone else?”
“He didn’t say, but I know he also told Forbes—Forbes and LaRivière. I know because I thought it best under the circumstances to warn them, only both men said they already knew.”
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“No. I swear to God.”
“Right,” said Sebastian with a hard smile.
“Who else would I tell?”
“I’ve no idea. Did Nicholas have any other enemies?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Was the boy with Hayes when you killed him in Pennington’s Tea Gardens?”
Seaforth sucked in a startled breath. “I tell you, I didn’t kill Hayes! I swear it. My wife wasn’t feeling well that day, so I spent the afternoon at my club, had dinner, then went to the Regent’s reception. I won’t deny I wanted the man dead, but I’ve never killed anyone in my life.”
“You hire other people to do your killing for you, do you?”
The other man’s gaze slid away, telling Sebastian all he needed to know.
Sebastian said, “When did Brownbeck warn you about Hayes?”
“Last week sometime. Maybe Monday or Tuesday—I don’t recall precisely.”
“When did you speak to Forbes and LaRivière?”
“The same day. I think it may have been Monday, actually.”
“And you’d have me believe you didn’t hire the men to go after the child until Friday?”
“I swear it! Ask the men. They’ll tell you.”
“Unfortunately, the only one who was in custody is now dead.”
Seaforth’s eyes widened. “You killed him?”
“Not exactly.”
Sebastian advanced on the other man, backing him up until Seaforth slammed his shoulders against the nearest wall with his hands splayed out at his sides. “When we walk out of here,” said Sebastian, “you’re going to collect your wife and children and take them home. And then you are going to contact those men you hired and you are going to call them off. Am I making myself perfectly clear? You are going to call them off right now. Because I want you to understand this, and I want you to understand it well: If anything happens to either my wife or that little boy, you won’t live long enough to rue the day you were born. Is that clear?”
Seaforth’s nostrils flared. “You can’t just go around threatening people like this. I am a peer of the realm! I—”
“What you are, sir, is a fool. Your men threatened the daughter of the Regent’s dear, dear cousin and most trusted advisor. If you think I might hurt you, what do you think Jarvis would do if he found out?”
Seaforth’s face quivered as his nose began to run. “You haven’t told him, have you? Oh, God. Have you?”
“Not yet. At the moment you’re more useful to me alive than dead. I suggest you do your utmost to keep me in that frame of mind.”
From the far side of the door came a child’s voice. “Mama, where’s Papa?”
At some point, Seaforth’s hat had been knocked to the floor. Sebastian picked it up and handed it to him. “Now take your family and get out of here.”
Chapter 45
T heodore Brownbeck came hurrying out of the Bank of England’s massive portal with his head down, his thoughts obviously far away. He had a sheaf of papers tucked up under one arm and was worrying his lower lip with his front teeth. He’d crossed