One Thing Leads to a Lover (Love and Let Spy #2) - Susanna Craig Page 0,87

to drink. What is it, my lord?” he demanded, his eyes darting over the desktop for some clue. “What have you done with Lady Kingston’s sons?”

“Why, I—I only brought them back here, just as I was supposed to. Jacobs was most particular on that point.”

“Jacobs?”

“You can’t mean—” Amanda gripped one corner of the desk. “Not the fencing master?”

Dulsworthy sighed. “The same.”

When she glanced Langley’s way, eyes flared, he nodded toward the pair of chairs facing the desk. “Let’s sit down, shall we, Lady Kingston, and allow his lordship to elaborate.”

Amanda shot him a doubtful look, but eventually perched on the edge of the farthest chair.

“Now, sir,” Langley said, sitting down, “if you would start from the beginning…”

“The beginning?” Dulsworthy took a generous swallow of brandy. “Don’t know as I can remember back that far.”

“As far as you can, then,” Langley prompted. “How, for example, you met Mr. Jacobs, and how he came to be young Lord Kingston’s and Master Philip’s fencing master.”

“Oh, well, that’s easy enough. He runs a sort of sporting club, you see. For gen’lemen. Boxing, fencing, and th’ like. I let it slip once that I was worried about my wards, being brought up in a houseful of women, an’ Jacobs was right quick to see the problem. Says to me, in that fancy way o’ his, ‘I offer my services in a number of aristocratic households, my lord. I should be honored to give the sons of the late Earl of Kingston instruction in the gentlemanly art of swordplay.’”

The sons of the late Earl of Kingston. Something about the phrase sent Langley’s thoughts flitting back to his meeting with Scott. A friend to his service, the general had said of Kingston. Was it possible their connection had run deeper than a generous donation or two to the Widows and Orphans Fund? Did Jacobs have a particular reason for wanting to gain access to Bartlett House? Was there something else he had hoped to find?

“And may gentlemen lay wagers at Mr. Jacobs’s establishment?” Langley ventured, when Dulsworthy paused.

The man heaved another brandy-soaked sigh. “Aye.”

“Are you in debt to this Jacobs, my lord?”

“Oh, aye.”

At that confession, Amanda bristled, seeming to sense what it might mean, the lengths to which a man might go to extract himself from money difficulties. Langley waved at her to remain silent. Dulsworthy might be hesitant to speak plainly if he remembered that a lady was present.

“But that old French cookbook was to have cleared it, you see,” Dulsworthy continued. “That chap from the bookshop”—he narrowed his gaze, as if trying to bring Langley’s face into focus, then shook his head in disbelief—“you said it was valu’ble. I didn’t think much of it when I told Lady Kingston I’d return it. But then Jacobs happened to see it—he’s got more’n a drop of French blood in his veins, you know—and told me he knew where I might sell it and clear enough profit to settle up my notes. He was willing to take it right then, but I didn’t like to think of making her ladyship unhappy in the matter, so I set it aside to consider the matter.” The man still did not seem to understand the true worth of what he’d had, however briefly, in his hands. “But needs must, you understand. Later, when he sent ’round a note with a direction on it, another bookshop I gathered, I wrapped it up and was all set to drop it off the day after the ball. The day I took the boys out for a drive,” he added, with a pleading glance toward Amanda, whose eyes in the dimly lit room held all the warmth of an ice-slicked pond on a black winter’s night.

“But young Lord Kingston found it instead,” said Langley, before Dulsworthy withered under the force of her chilling glare.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure which of them picked it up. Jacobs said he could winkle the truth out of them. Said he didn’t think Lady Kingston had been too pleased after the last lesson, and that it might be best to meet here from now on. So I went to fetch the boys for a little visit, only to find that the family had all hied off to Richmond on a lark. Well, my horses were fresh, so off I went after ’em. Wasn’t too difficult to persuade ’em to come with me. The boys always like a ride in my phaeton—she’s a prime goer,” he confided as an aside to