Garden of Lies(11)
“Why does everyone insist upon inquiring after my health this afternoon?” Ursula yanked the hatpins out of her hat. “Do I appear sickly?”
Matty’s concern immediately transitioned to fascinated horror. “Something dreadful happened at the Roxton mansion, didn’t it? Are you all right?”
Ursula dropped the hat and veil onto a side table. “I’m fine, Matty.”
“No, you’re not fine. Mr. Roxton said or did something to outrage your delicate sensibilities, didn’t he?”
Ursula sank into her desk chair and gave Matty a repressive look.
“To be clear,” she said evenly, “Mr. Roxton committed no outrages upon my person and he did not offend my delicate sensibilities. Professional secretaries cannot afford to possess delicate sensibilities. That way lies disaster.”
“We are respectable females. Of course we have delicate sensibilities.”
“No, Matty, what professional secretaries must possess in abundance are the qualities of intelligence, common sense and a willingness to do whatever is required to extricate one’s person from potentially outrageous situations before they become outrageous. There are no knights in shining armor hanging about waiting to rescue us. We must deal with the world on our own. Which is, of course, why I make certain that all of my secretaries wear hats with large, sturdy hatpins.”
“Yes, I know.” Matty brushed the hatpin requirement aside. “Well, if you were not offended, why are you in such a fierce mood? You look as if you could cheerfully throttle someone.”
“Do not tempt me.”
“Something did happen at the Roxton mansion. I knew it. I warned you about that man, did I not?”
“On any number of occasions.”
“You can’t expect him to behave like a well-bred, well-mannered gentleman. They say he was entombed alive for weeks on that island.”
“His mother informed me that it was more in the neighborhood of a few days.”
“It doesn’t matter, the point is he was buried alive. After he escaped the temple tombs he was stranded on that island for a full year. That would be enough to shatter anyone’s nerves or drive him mad.”
“Mr. Roxton is not mad, Matty.” Ursula reflected briefly. “A trifle eccentric, perhaps, but I’m quite sure he isn’t mad. I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing wrong with his nerves, either.”
“The latest issue of The Flying Intelligencer reports that Roxton practices exotic sexual rites on unsuspecting females,” Matty announced.
Ursula stared at her, genuinely shocked for the first time. “Good heavens. I must admit I hadn’t heard that particular tidbit.”
“Evidently Roxton is in the habit of kidnapping innocent, respectable ladies right off the street. He takes them to a secret chamber where he performs the rituals.”
“Is that so? Have there been a number of complaints from the victims of these exotic sexual rituals?”
“Well, no.” Matty looked disappointed. “The victims never remember exactly what happens during the ceremonies because he hypnotizes them to make them forget.”
“I suspect they can’t remember the exotic sexual rites because those rites never occurred in the first place. Really, Matty, you know you can’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
Matty was a great fan of the sensation press. In the wake of Roxton’s return to London two months ago, the papers and the penny dreadfuls had wasted a great quantity of ink discussing the rumors of his so-called “entombment” and speculating on what he had done during the years following his rescue from Fever Island.
Matty had read every word printed about the mysterious Slater Roxton. She had never met him but she considered herself an expert on the man. She was clearly disappointed by Roxton’s failure to perform exotic lovemaking rituals on her employer.
“What of the years after he escaped from the island?” Matty asked. “No telling what he got up to during that time.”
“He did not disappear after he was rescued from the island,” Ursula said. “His mother assured me that Mr. Roxton returned to London at least twice a year to visit with his parents.”
“Yes, well, he certainly kept his visits quiet, didn’t he?”
“I doubt that it was difficult. There was no reason for anyone to pay any attention to his comings and goings until recently. The only reason the press is agog now is because his father died and left the family fortune in Mr. Roxton’s hands.”
Matty assumed an all-knowing air. “They say he has returned to exact vengeance.”
“That may be Society’s opinion but that view was shaped by the sensation press. I doubt very much if it is true.”
“Consider his position—he is the long-lost bastard son of a wealthy lord and a famous actress. Upon his father’s death Mr. Roxton discovers that he will not inherit the estate and he will never be able to take up the title because of his illegitimate birth. And just to rub salt into his wounds, his father’s will charged him with the duties and responsibilities of managing the inheritance for his two legitimate half brothers and his father’s widow. The injustice of that situation would be enough to make any man seek revenge.”
Ursula drummed her fingers on the desktop. “I saw no signs that Mr. Roxton is worried about his own financial future,” Ursula said. “His mother does not appear concerned, either. I got the strong impression that Mr. Roxton’s father took excellent care of Lilly. More to the point, I don’t think that Slater Roxton has been idle during the past few years. His mother indicated that he has done rather well for himself. Something about investments, according to Lilly. Evidently he has a head for business. Furthermore, she assured me that her son is not unbalanced.”