Page 37 of A Gentleman’s Offer

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Lord Nightingale’s butler raised his eyebrows at the curious little family deputation that arrived in Grosvenor Square a short while later, but he could hardly deny admission to his master’s three children (one of whom was resident in the house), accompanied by Miss Maria’s intended husband. Primrose had discreetly gone home, after squeezing Maria’s hand and wishing them all luck, and Lady De Lacy too had decided not to come; she had no desire to see the odious blackmailer again, she had said, since she could not trust herself to address him with anything resembling common courtesy. She depended on her son to say and do all that was necessary, and was presumably now reclining on her fainting couch with her smelling salts, contemplating ingenious methods of revenge in the manner of Lady Macbeth or Clytemnestra.

They were ushered into the drawing room and awaited their unwitting host in tense silence. It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time before he made an appearance, and Meg had just been about to suggest that they go to confront him boldly in his library when the door opened, and her father stood blinking on the threshold, surveying them impassively.

Even with all she knew of his wickedness, and all she had suffered at his hands, it was hard to reconcile the harmless-looking scholar she saw before her with the ruthless and cruel actions she knew he had perpetrated. Lord Nightingale was tall, like his children, and had presumably once been fair – his brows and lashes were sandy, but he covered his hair, or his lack of hair, with an old-fashioned wig, which made him appear older than his sixty years. Endless hours of study had left him stooped and pallid, and like his older daughter he wore gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. His dress verged on the shabby, his face was heavily lined and his expression unreadable. His silence made an extraordinary impression on his younger daughter. Would he not speak? He must be astonished to see the two children from whom he was estranged here, together, in his house. Surely he must fear discovery, and wonder how much they knew. And yet he said nothing.

The moment of silence stretched, and then he shuffled forward into the room and the waiting butler was able to close the door behind him and exit smartly. ‘To what do I owe the honour of this most unexpected visit?’ Lord Nightingale said drily at last. His voice, appropriately, was papery thin, little more than a rustle, as if from long disuse. ‘It must be something vastly important, that you have all come to interrupt me so rudely when you know, or should know, that I am busy with my most important studies.’ His tone did not alter a jot when he turned to Meg and Maria, who stood close together, and said levelly, ‘I suppose your bitch of a mother sent you?’

Meg gasped and a gloved hand flew to her mouth. Before the Baron could turn on her and ask her what the devil she and her sister were about – the words could almost be seen hovering on his parched lips – his son stepped forward and said fiercely, ‘If you weren’t an old man and my father, to my sorrow, I’d dashed well knock you down for that foul remark! You must know perfectly well why we’re here!’

‘I know nothing of the kind,’ Nightingale said waspishly. ‘But I presume you’re going to tell me. I have never had a high opinion of your intelligence, Francis – you must take after your fool of a dam rather than any member of my illustrious family – but I’d assume you can manage to explain yourself adequately in simple words.’ An unpleasant little smile hovered around his lips and he snuffled disagreeably, as though he was congratulating himself inwardly upon a witty riposte. He appeared to be oblivious to the almost palpable waves of loathing coming at him from every person in the room.

‘I am happy to do so,’ said Francis stiffly, his face flushed. Maria, who stood by him, reached out and put her hand on his arm, and he achieved a grateful little smile in her direction before he continued. ‘In simple words, then, so that you may understand them, we have discovered exactly how much you have cheated us, Father. My sister’s portion, stolen from her, and the entailed estates, plundered. You have even forged my name on legal documents, and I can prove it.’

‘Nonsense.’ Lord Nightingale appeared tranquil and unaffected.

‘It’s not nonsense,’ Meg said hotly. She had forgotten how easily her father filled her with rage; it was one thing to know all he’d done, and another to see him calmly denying it, as though he could distort the very nature of reality by his unshakeable belief in himself. ‘Francis can prove that he was abroad on an occasion when he was supposed to have signed an important document. He has the forged paper, and he also has witnesses who will swear that he was in Paris with them on the date it was drawn up.’

‘They dashed well will,’ Francis growled. ‘They’ll be delighted to.’

‘No one will believe a word your ramshackle friends say,’ his father answered serenely. ‘I am sure you must have bribed my idiot of a lawyer, or something of that disreputable nature. My word as a peer and an eminent scholar will naturally count for far more than theirs or yours. Imbecile boy! And in any case, I can’t believe you really want to air our family secrets in public. The illustrious Beau De Lacy, who is to be your brother-in-law so very soon, I am sure has not the least desire to do so.’ His eyes found Sir Dominic’s; unbelievably, the old man was still smiling, his smug confidence apparently unshaken.

‘You may be confusing me with my mother,’ said Sir Dominic icily. ‘I would never have given in to your unconscionable blackmail if she’d told me of it directly, and I won’t do so now. Spread any tale you like about my family; I’m sure it will be drowned in the enormous scandal that will be created when the extent of your theft and fraud is exposed to everyone.’

‘You’re bluffing,’ Lord Nightingale said, his smile slipping a fraction. ‘You’re all bluffing. You wouldn’t dare expose me.’

‘Do not continue to delude yourself, I beg you. It would give me a great deal of satisfaction to enlighten the whole world as to exactly what you are,’ Sir Dominic told him. ‘It would be nothing more than you deserve, and I don’t think for a moment that anyone in this room would shed a single tear if you were imprisoned or transported. If we refrain from seeking legal remedies for your many crimes, it is not out of any compunction for you, or fear of scandal. It’s only because between us we have had a better idea – a much more fitting punishment.’

‘De Lacy’s hit the nail on the head. The truth is, we have a mind to try a little blackmail of our own,’ Francis said steadily. Meg could see that he shared – as they all did – in the exhilaration of facing her father down and doing so as a team. ‘You should appreciate that, I’d have thought – just like one of your blasted dull Greek tragedies. Hubris, that’s the ticket! You will pay for your dashed hubris by auctioning off your precious collection and paying us back what you’ve stolen from us.’

‘I will do no such thing!’ Lord Nightingale said. His face was ghastly pale now, and his eyes were wild. Clearly the threat to what he held most dear in the world had hit home, and he was taking his assembled family seriously at last.

‘You will, or Francis will place all his proof in the hands of a magistrate and demand he acts on it,’ Maria said. ‘We shall all go there together, right this instant, and denounce you in the strongest possible terms. If you imagine for a second that I will allow you to get away with stealing my inheritance, and my brother’s, you don’t know me at all. You don’t know any of us. Which frankly doesn’t surprise me, since Meg has been living here and masquerading as me for days and days and you haven’t even noticed. You may think you’re very clever, Father, but in all the ways that count you are actually exceedingly stupid!’

‘I will cast you off, you impudent hoyden!’ he cried, staggering a little and clutching at the back of a chair to support himself. ‘You are no longer any daughter of mine! I have no children! I disinherit the whole pack of you!’

‘I may be an impudent hoyden, but at least I’m not a thief and a swindler! And you can’t cast me off. That’s a ridiculous thing to say, because Francis is my trustee too, and he will make sure I receive every penny of my inheritance, won’t you, Francis?’

‘Of course I will! And, while we’re at it, I know you haven’t been paying my stepmother and Meg all the monies you owe them for their upkeep, and I will take care of that, too! There are going to be a lot of changes in this family, and since you’re plainly not fit to be head of it, I’m taking over! You will no longer have control of any of the revenue from the estate or the funds, and if you object, sir, I will gladly see you in court!’

‘Bravo, Francis!’ his sisters said in unison. Their brother seemed quite transformed by the events of the last few days, and was almost visibly growing in confidence with every moment that passed, while their father, in a strange sort of symmetry, appeared to shrink into himself. His lips were moving convulsively, and Meg thought he must be telling over a list of the precious things he was so soon to lose. She felt a pang of sympathy, but then remembered all his deliberate, wicked cruelty and hardened her heart.

‘I will pay you a small allowance for your personal needs, and arrange appropriate accommodation for you, but there’ll be no more bankrupting the family by buying fusty old manuscripts!’ Francis went on inexorably. Lord Nightingale’s face twitched with acute pain as these words made their impact on him, but he made no other sort of response.

Meg had been aware for a little while of some sort of unusual disturbance outside in the hall; it was hard to imagine what it might be, in so well regulated a household. She certainly could not conceive that the butler would be so foolish as to attempt to interrupt what he must be aware was no ordinary family encounter by admitting a visitor, however insistent they might be. But she soon found she was mistaken; the door opened somewhat abruptly, and a voice that was not quite level, as if the servant too had suffered a severe shock in recent moments, announced, ‘Lady Nightingale!’