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Richard limped up the steps of Winslow’s Jermyn Street lodgings, still wondering what might have inspired the invitation. A servant led him to a snug, if rather untidy, parlour, and his host stood up with a friendly smile, which didn’t quite disguise the frown in his eyes.
‘Blakehurst.’ Winslow held out his hand and Richard shook it.
Winslow went straight to the point as the door closed behind the servant. ‘I owe you an apology. Brandy?’
Richard raised his brows. ‘Oh? Yes, please.’
Winslow looked rueful, as he poured a glass of brandy and handed it to him. ‘Yes. I rather leapt to conclusions the other day. Braybrook put me right.’
Richard couldn’t quite suppress a snort. ‘Don’t refine upon it too much, Winslow,’ he said. ‘By now most of society has leapt to the same obvious conclusion.’ Including the harpy who had penned those poisonous notes.
‘So I hear.’ Winslow gestured to a comfortable-looking leather chair on one side of the crackling fire.
Richard sat down and they sipped quietly for a few moments before Winslow broke the silence. ‘Braybrook gave me some advice.’
Richard looked at him carefully. That sounded dangerous. Julian’s advice was frequently sound and always outrageous. ‘Did he?’ He managed to sound mildly interested rather than suspicious.
‘Yes.’ Winslow swirled the brandy in his glass, and met Richard’s gaze over the rim. ‘Apart from convincing me that if you were hanging out for a rich wife Lady Arnsworth would have married you off years ago—’
Despite the simmering remnants of his annoyance with Winslow, Richard laughed.
‘He also said that you were in the perfect position to help Thea.’
Richard choked on his brandy.
A moment later, after a helpful bang on the back from Winslow, Richard cleared his throat.
‘And just how did he come to that conclusion?’ he asked.
Winslow grimaced. ‘One, you aren’t hanging out for a wife. Two, you’re on the spot. Three …’ He hesitated and then said, ‘Well, I saw that for myself this afternoon. You were always kind to Thea when she was a child. She sees you as a friend. And when Braybrook told me about your run in with Dunhaven last night, he said you wouldn’t ask a lot of questions I couldn’t answer.’
Richard was silent for a moment, wondering just what Winslow thought he had seen that afternoon. ‘Bearing in mind all those questions I am apparently too discreet to ask,’ he said, with only the merest hint of irony, ‘would you care to explain exactly why Thea might be supposed to require my assistance? And perhaps even what you think I can do?’
‘Thea is … disinclined to marry,’ began Winslow. ‘After her—that is, after what happened eight years ago, she does not wish it. Unfortunately, our father sees matters quite differently. He wants her married.’ Narrowed grey eyes glittered. ‘I understand you share my opinion of Dunhaven as a parti for my sister?’
‘I should think it extremely likely,’ said Richard evenly. ‘He’s a wart.’ He tried to ignore the response boiling up inside him at the idea of Thea and Dunhaven. Over my dead body.
‘Quite.’
It took Richard a moment to realise he hadn’t actually spoken that last phrase aloud; that Winslow had merely agreed with his summation of Dunhaven’s charms. ‘There was talk,’ he said slowly, ‘about the death of Dunhaven’s wife.’ He loathed gossip and avoided spreading it, but in this instance he’d make an exception.
Winslow said nothing. Just waited. He didn’t even look surprised, so there was no point suggesting that he mention this to Aberfield. Aberfield knew and didn’t care.
Hell and damnation. ‘You know, Winslow, you really didn’t need to ask. Did you think I’d let an excrescence like Dunhaven anywhere near her?’
‘There’ll be others too,’ said Winslow quietly. ‘He’s the worst, I agree. But if she really does not wish to marry, I don’t want to see our father force her into it.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Richard could not quite believe what he was hearing. ‘Why would—?’
‘Gossip,’ said Winslow savagely.
‘What?’ That made no sense at all.
Winslow hesitated, as though choosing his words carefully.
At last he said, ‘Someone let it out how much Thea’s inheritance is. Our father decided to marry her off to his satisfaction before she became a target for fortune hunters.’
Richard frowned. Winslow wasn’t telling him everything. But then, he hadn’t told Winslow everything …
‘Forgive me, Winslow, but I overheard some speculation last night—’ Seeing his companion’s suddenly narrowed gaze, he said irritably, ‘Oh, for God’s sake! Take a damper! You’ve asked my assistance and I’m more than willing to help, but I need to know what’s going on.’
Winslow subsided and Richard continued, ‘Some of the tabbies were speculating that there might have been a reason other than grief at Lallerton’s death, some indiscretion, that has kept Thea in retirement.’
‘Were they, indeed?’ grated Winslow.
‘Yes. And, no, as Julian informed me at the time, we can’t call them out over it.’
Winslow gave an unwilling crack of laughter. ‘We? Blakehurst, calling someone out on a woman’s behalf is usually reserved for her brother or her husband! Or her betrothed.’
Richard ignored that. To his shock, the idea of calling someone out on Thea’s behalf didn’t feel in the least out of place. Especially if it turned out to be Dunhaven. Banishing the thought, he stuck to the point. ‘It strikes me that, given it was Thea’s first appearance in years, the gossip was surprisingly fast. Even for London. Which suggests that people were talking even before Thea came to town. Is that part of the reason for your father’s determination to marry her off?’
Winslow’s fingers drummed on the table, and again Richard had the impression that he was considering his answer.
Finally, ‘Yes. He doesn’t want any hint of scandal. He’s being considered again for a Cabinet position.’
All perfectly reasonable. But why had the gossip started in the first place? Who had started it? Gossip was part of life in society, but usually it was about current events. Not a non-existent scandal that was eight years old to boot. Not unless someone had an axe to grind …
‘So someone wants to block your father’s Cabinet appointment.’ It was the obvious solution.
Winslow looked arrested. ‘What?’ He caught himself hurriedly. ‘Well, yes. That … that would fit.’
Except that it was so bloody obvious, Winslow shouldn’t look surprised. And where did the notes fit in? And
