The Harlot Countess (Wicked Deceptions #2)(80)

Simon rose and went to the sideboard. “I am grateful, Colt. Sit down and I’ll pour you a brandy.” The London weather had turned frigid in these first few days of February. Though Simon had returned not even an hour ago, the wet cold had already seeped into his bones. He refilled his own glass, then splashed a healthy amount of brandy in a snifter for Colton.

As he sat, Mrs. Timmons knocked on the door. “My lords, Your Grace. I have a fresh pot of tea.” Simon waved her in and the housekeeper set the tray down. A maid followed behind with a tray of sweets. “Would you care for Sally to pour the tea?” Mrs. Timmons asked.

“No, I think we gents can manage. Thank you.”

The women both bobbed a curtsy and withdrew, closing the door.

“Why’d you say no? I like your maids.” Quint selected a piece of cake, popped it in his mouth. “They’re prettier than mine.”

“You’d get prettier servants if you acted more like a viscount instead of a demented Bedlamite,” Colton noted. “Now, Winchester, what’s the hurry? When did you return from Paris?”

“Nearly an hour ago. Before we get onto other problems, tell me. How goes the search for Cranford?”

Colton shook his head. “Still cannot find him, I’m afraid. Fitz and I have turned the city on its head in our search.”

“Damnation,” Simon said and slapped the armrest.

“My thoughts exactly,” Colton said. “We saw what he did to the girl at Hartley’s. Another girl was beaten, raped, and killed in St. Giles not long after. Man fit Cranford’s vague description and one of her friends noticed a signet ring.”

“Not to mention what he did to Maggie,” Simon added. “Where in Hades is he hiding?”

“Couldn’t say. But O’Shea’s men are keeping an eye out with the promise of a reward. He’ll turn up eventually.”

“Unless he’s boarded a steamer for America,” Quint finished, unhelpfully in Simon’s opinion.

“Even a visit to that godforsaken country will not stop me from exacting retribution,” Simon told them. “No matter where I must go, Cranford will pay for every second of suffering Maggie endured.”

“Provided she isn’t arrested for sedition first, I presume,” Quint said.

“Sedition?” Colton’s eyes widened. “What’s this?”

Simon caught Colton up on the developments, from Maggie as Lemarc to the blackmail letters received in Paris.

The duke slumped back. “Staggering. The whole business. So let me see if I understand. You court Lady Hawkins during her debut until the scandal breaks, upon which time Cranford shows you a bunch of letters from her professing her undying love for another man. So she marries Hawkins instead of you, and when Hawkins dies she returns to London as Lemarc, sets McGinnis up with a shop, and Winejester is born.”

Simon swallowed a mouthful of brandy. “Yes.”

“Deuced clever, that woman. You have to admire her.”

“Indeed,” Quint agreed. “She’s built a reputable name for herself. Lemarc is respected amongst artists. There was even talk of inviting him—er, her—to exhibit at Somerset House.”

“I don’t mean just the work,” Colton clarified. “Though it is impressive. I mean her plan to make Winchester suffer. Not all ladies would turn a former paramour into a popular caricature. Think she’d sell me one of the cartoons now?”

“I’ll allow that,” Simon returned, “when Julia permits me to inform you of how she spent her time in London all those years you were away.”

The duke’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits. “What do you mean by that? Spent her time, how?”

Simon didn’t answer, merely smirked. When it looked as if Colton might work himself into a righteous fury, Quint put a hand up. “Children,” he said, “I believe we should return to the issue at hand. I’ve been thinking on the blackmailer since Paris. From the sound of the letters, I think it safe to assume he’s someone close to you, Winchester.”

“Me? Why me?”

“He’s too smug. Rubbing your nose in it. This is personal for him. Or her. He’s laughing at you, trying to bleed money out of both of you. But he asked you for more money. Makes me think it’s someone out to hurt you, specifically, and hurting Lady Hawkins is a secondary motive.”

Simon let that sink in while he reached for a small cake. Who would hate him so much? A political opponent, possibly.

“Do you plan to turn the blackmailer over to the Crown?” Colton asked.

“It’s the only way. I won’t give them Maggie. Or Mrs. McGinnis.”

Quint reached for more tea. “I assume you’ll arrange to pay and then watch to see who comes to retrieve the money.”

“Yes, I daresay that is what Hollister will recommend,” Simon said, referring to the investigator. “Whatever the plan, it should happen quickly. Once word travels that Maggie and I have returned, I suspect the blackmailer will contact us.”

“I am surprised Lady Hawkins did not join us today, as this is a concern to her as well,” Colton noted.

Simon did not immediately reply, so Quint said, “She left him in Paris. Snuck out in the middle of the night.”

Colton chuckled. “Oh, extraordinary. I adore this woman. Verily, Winchester, you deserve everything she gives you.”