Page 15 of The Wordsworth Key (Regency Secrets #3)

Something niggled in Jacob’s memory, but he couldn’t crystalise the thought. Dismissing it for the present, he developed the magistrate angle. ‘Perhaps he passed sentence on someone who came back to take revenge. But would he go with such a one to Billingsgate?’

‘There is a chance it could be a relative or friend of someone they think he wronged. I’ve had to put up with plenty of invectives in my time from angry relatives of those who have been committed for trial at the assizes.

Do you want me to call up the cases Leyburn adjudicated recently– see if anything springs out? ’

‘Thank you– I would be much obliged.’

‘No need to thank me. If such a one can come for Sir Richard, he could come for any of us.’

Jacob heard much the same story from the other gentlemen with whom he spoke.

They were only too primed to fire their cannons as to how the country was going to the dogs when decent men like Sir Richard were murdered.

The dead magistrate was liked by both Whigs and Tories and even the reform-minded gentlemen had a good word for him.

In this company at least, no one was lifting the cover on any dirty secrets of the deceased.

For any hope of digging beneath this shiny reputation, Jacob would likely have to go to Cockermouth and speak to a less exalted class of people. No one knew a man like his servants.

Glancing around the emptying terrace, Jacob noted that most of the ladies had retired to his mother’s sitting room for tea.

He was on the point of joining them to see how his sisters and mother were faring when Arthur appeared at his elbow.

Jacob, who had been doing a good job of avoiding him, grimaced at his shoes.

‘There you are, Jacob! Just the fellow I wanted.’ Arthur steered an older man with a girl on his arm in front of Jacob, blocking a quick exit.

The gentleman had the handsome looks of what Lady Tolworth termed a silver fox, about Jacob’s height and hunting fit.

His daughter– she shared his green eyes– matched her father in looks.

She had a mole that served as a natural beauty spot at the corner of her mouth and stunning sunset-red hair peeking out from her black bonnet.

The artist in him noted instantly that he would like to paint her, and that to see that hair unbound would be a privilege.

Was the twinge of attraction disloyal to Dora? He hoped not. It was an aesthetic appreciation, nothing more.

‘Dr Sandys, we’ve been introduced– but you were a boy at the time,’ said the gentleman. ‘I was a friend of your father’s. The late viscount and I met in the Lords when we were both a good deal younger. He made me– I was then a newly created peer– very welcome.’

The name came to Jacob at that reminder. He bowed. ‘Lord Furness. It is good to make your acquaintance again.’ Furness had made his money in shipping if he recalled correctly, transporting local slate, limestone and gunpowder to markets further south.

‘This is my daughter, Lady Alice.’

Jacob bowed over her hand.

‘Dr Sandys, as I have already said to your brother, please accept our condolences. My sisters and I were very fond of the late viscount,’ said the lady. Her voice was pleasant, none of the drawl or lisp affected by too many fashionable ladies.

‘My gels are all great friends with your sisters,’ added her father. ‘Not that you were at home when they became as familiar with these gardens as they are with my estate. I believe you were away fighting for king and country. Quite right you did so. Every man’s duty, eh?’

‘I was in the medical service, my lord,’ corrected Jacob.

‘There is more than one way of assisting with the war effort. We need doctors to put the soldiers back on their feet. Your father was very proud of you, even if he was furious that you passed up the chance to be a general.’

‘Happily, we seem to be well provisioned with those at present.’

‘Well said! That Irishman is turning out to be not half bad at chasing the French out of the Peninsula. Putting his fool of a brother in as King of Madrid is going to turn and bite Napoleon.’

Arthur made a sound of agreement. ‘But we mustn’t bore Lady Alice with our political talk, must we, Furness? Jacob, why don’t you escort Lady Alice to our mother’s tea party. I have a matter of Lords’ business I need to discuss with her father.’

Jacob could detect a pincer movement as well as any survivor of the wars. He had been cornered into furthering his acquaintance with the very eligible and lovely daughter of a neighbour and there was nothing he could do about it.

‘Lady Alice?’ He offered her his arm.

‘If you would prefer to stay and talk politics, please, I can find my own way,’ she replied. ‘We ladies are not helpless.’

Dammit, why couldn’t she be simpering, or annoying?

She appeared to be a perfectly charming girl who once upon a time he would’ve likely come round to considering as a match, particularly as she was already an intimate of the family.

For a brief instant, the path he wouldn’t be treading shimmered in his imagination before he dismissed it.

‘But I am– you must rescue me. I have no business in the Lords so they cannot possibly wish for my company. Tell me, Lady Alice, how many sisters do you have?’

Aware of Arthur’s smug smile, Jacob headed through the rose garden with Lady Alice on his arm.