Solicitors acted at the pace of half-asleep snails, and if they failed in the end, it would be far too late to do anything else. Charlie, of course, agreed this was a sensible plan, willing as ever to shrug off any responsibility. Charlie would have agreed with whatever was put to him so long as he could continue his self-absorbed ways. As proof, he also agreed with Gerard’s proposal that they pursue the blackmailer and deal with him in ways no solicitor could. Ever the peacemaker, Edward declared he would engage the solicitor, and Gerard could do his best to find the blackmailer. It was left unsaid that Charlie would probably do very little of any use.
However, despite Gerard’s urging to say nothing of the possible bigamy to anyone, Edward insisted on trusting his fiancée, Lady Louisa Halston. Within two days, the most rabid gossip sheet in town printed their private scandal for all of London to read. It became impossible to walk down a street in town without being gaped at, pointed at, or jokingly asked if he intended to hie off to the Continent with his mother’s jewels. Gerard would have been tempted to have it out with his brother for trusting a woman, except that Lady Louisa also took pains to jilt Edward in the most public and humiliating way possible: in the pages of that same gossip sheet.
Edward was better off without her—Louisa was a dull, quiet creature, although pretty enough—but he had cared for the girl. Gerard couldn’t rub salt in his brother’s wounded pride. There was nothing to be done but double his determination to find that blackmailer and dispose of him and whatever “proof” he might have of Durham’s clandestine marriage.
He covered every possibility in London. One of the letters demanded five thousand pounds, in coin, to be left in a London churchyard on a certain gravestone. Gerard visited the church, spent a few hours chatting with the friendly rector, and learned that the grave specified was over a hundred years old and probably hadn’t been touched or visited in decades, nor had anyone asked about it. The rector was quite sure no one could have come around at night, either, as he personally locked the gate every evening. It struck Gerard as curious; why seek a ransom if no one ever attempted to collect it? The demand was made in the third letter, and the fourth letter made no mention of money at all.
That only made him more eager to get out of the city. Edward insisted he would deal with the gossip in town although his plan, which turned out to involve a Titian-haired widow with a magnificent bosom and a siren’s voice, sounded shaky to Gerard. Not the part about the redhead—that part he understood very well, although his brother insisted it was only business between them. But it was Edward’s concern, and if he lost a bit of his reserve under the sensual widow’s influence, Gerard thought it would serve him well after Louisa’s callous treatment. All the better if Edward actually succeeded in tamping down the gossip as well.
There was one other reason he needed to leave London, one he hadn’t felt like sharing with either of his brothers. Whether legitimate or not, Gerard was a third son. Even under the best of circumstances, he would be expected to make his own way. The title, with its properties and wealth and duties, would go to Charlie. Edward would most likely continue to run the estates, as it was highly improbable Charlie would take an interest now or develop the skills needed to take over anytime soon. Gerard had chosen the army and done well there, but it wouldn’t sustain him forever. Durham had advised him years ago that he should take notice of pretty young ladies with large dowries, and now this “Durham Dilemma,” as the gossips were calling it, only made that more urgent. Gerard meant to find the blackmailer, but he also intended to find himself a wealthy bride before his situation grew any worse. And since every lady in town was whispering of the scandal already, his best chances lay in towns outside London—towns like Bath, where two of the blackmail messages had originated.
He managed to secure extended leave from his regiment, but then his horse needed to be reshod. An old friend from the army turned up and insisted on dining with him one night and drew him into another engagement the next evening.