Page 42 of The Wordsworth Key (Regency Secrets #3)

Jacob’s heart warmed to think of their little charge following Yarton about Ginny’s great pile of a West End mansion.

Yarton was the most efficient butler in the country and there was no better person for Kir to emulate.

‘No doubt he is having a fine time and Susan will manage admirably. What brings you here in person? No, strike that question from the record. Save what you have to say until we join Dora.’

Alex took his horse from the fence and followed Jacob round to his small stable where they unbuckled the saddles and gave both mounts a brisk rubbing down and a feed as Jacob filled him in on the recent events in the valley.

‘So this is your retreat from society?’ said Alex once Jacob had finished his account. ‘I can see why you like the place– it’s a gem of a valley.’

‘A gem where I hoard all my treasures like some Cumberland dragon dreaming on his pile of gold– until Dora dragged me away from all that.’

‘You have a hoard?’ smirked Alex.

‘A library with my collection.’

‘Oh, yes, your books and manuscripts. You must show me.’

‘If we’ve time.’ Usually the collection was a solace, his safe place, but since meeting Dora the forger he had had an unsettling fear that there were paste jewels among the diamonds.

He hadn’t had time to go through it again and couldn’t be entirely easy until he’d reassured himself his collector’s eye had not erred.

Horses settled, they returned to the house to find supper laid on the table and Ruby sulking in an armchair with a plate balanced on her baby mound.

‘She’s sending me up to bed like a naughty child,’ she groused. ‘Says you have business to discuss.’

‘We do,’ agreed Jacob. ‘And rest is important for a woman in your condition.’

‘I’ve done nothing but rest all day. I’m bored.’

Dora came into the dining room carrying a pot of soup. ‘Ruby did stir herself to make soup with the ham bone. Wonders will never cease.’

Ruby very maturely stuck out her tongue. ‘I was hungry and no one came back for dinner.’

‘We thank you for saving some for us,’ said Jacob.

‘I was going to eat it tomorrow.’

‘We’ll get you something else for tomorrow. We are hungry now,’ said Dora reasonably. ‘And as I said, you are welcome to listen to our conversation as long as you don’t repeat the details to anyone.’

‘Not even the viscount?’ There was a crafty gleam in Ruby’s eye.

‘Especially not my brother,’ said Jacob. ‘He’s far too interested in my doings already.’

‘Oh, very well. I’ll go upstairs as I’m not wanted here.’ She paused at the door to the stairs. ‘The viscount is coming back, isn’t he?’

‘I expect so. He’s not so easy to get rid of.’

She gave a nod as if something was confirmed in her mind, then headed upstairs.

Jacob cast a questioning look at Dora, who sighed: ‘I took a quick look in her bedroom. She’s altering a gown– one of my best gowns.

She appears to be developing an attachment to your brother and has plans to make herself devastatingly pretty for his return.

Alex momentarily distracted her from that thought but she’s now back to her original scheme. ’

‘Impressing my brother? Good luck with that.’

‘Don’t underestimate Ruby.’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

‘Do you remember how they were when we came back and found her reading to him? There’s some tenderness between them if I’m not mistaken.’

It wouldn’t be the first actress his brother had taken up with, though Ruby’s condition did make it more complicated than a normal arrangement.

Gentlemen were expected to make provision for their own by-blows, but not those of other men.

Jacob felt a twinge of worry for his older brother and the wife that he was disrespecting with his weakness for a pretty face and tender manners.

‘He is vulnerable at the moment– taking on responsibilities he doesn’t quite know how to handle. ’

‘So is she,’ said Dora defensively. ‘It’s not easy being an unmarried mother– or a married one for that matter.’

Was it that feeling of being out of their depth the very thing that was driving Arthur and Ruby together? He should tell his brother that he and Dora already planned to take care of Ruby. The viscount had no need to assume that role. ‘You have the right of it. Alex, why don’t you sit next to Dora?’

They arranged themselves at the table and Dora served the soup. ‘It’s a bit salty. I don’t think Ruby often cooks for herself,’ she said by way of apology.

Jacob took a sip of his spoonful. ‘I see what you mean.’ He reached for the jug of water. His brother’s unfortunate attachment would be cured by tasting one of Ruby’s meals.

Alex didn’t appear bothered by the saltiness. He made headway, finishing his bowl before Jacob had even got halfway through his. He pushed it back. ‘That’s very welcome, certainly better than army rations. I didn’t stop anywhere for long on the journey north, so I missed a couple of meals.’

‘You’ve news?’

‘Yes.’ He glanced towards the door. ‘Is she really gone?’ He was worried about eavesdroppers. Dora went to the door and opened it suddenly so that anyone listening at the crack would be surprised. The stairs were empty. She closed it softly.

‘She’s in her bedroom.’ Dora resumed her seat.

‘Who is she?’

‘A friend from my theatre days. More soup?’

Alex passed back his bowl. ‘Thank you. A fascinating woman. She fell on me when I arrived like I was that ham bone and she a famished dog. I was worried for my virtue several times.’

‘Forgive her. She’s worried for her future so she’s worse than usual,’ said Dora. ‘Now, we’re both dying of curiosity to find out what brought you here. Speak!’

‘You got our letter from Cockermouth?’ asked Jacob.

‘No, I’m afraid not. I must’ve left before it arrived,’ said Alex. ‘What did you find out?’

Jacob described the reaction of the locals, the high regard in which Leyburn was held.

‘We also discovered that he sponsored a local boy to go to university, a shepherd’s son,’ said Dora.

‘Luke Knotte is one of a group of radical young men who are holidaying together this summer. He fancies himself as Cumberland’s shepherd poet.

And there’s more.’ Dora described the missing poem, the relevance to the London attack, the vanished Barton and the attack that laid Wright low last night or early that morning.

‘You think this Knotte is behind it all?’ asked Alex.

‘It seems likely,’ said Jacob, ‘but we only have circumstantial evidence, not proof.’

‘The circumstances being?’

‘That he is always on hand, or connected, to events,’ said Dora. ‘Plus he makes my blood run cold. I was on my own with him today and he is one unstable young man; he thinks the poet Wordsworth is his daddy.’

‘You suspect him and you were on your own with him? Dora!’

‘I was distracting him while Jacob searched where he was staying.’

‘Sandys, you shouldn’t have left her alone with someone you thought a killer?’ This was a sensitive area for Alex who had lost Anthony, Dora’s brother, because Anthony had thought it safe enough to meet a killer on his own.

‘I make my own decisions, Alex,’ said Dora firmly. ‘To be fair to Jacob, we did not know of the attack on Wright at the time we took that one. We might’ve thought differently had we known.’

Jacob agreed with Alex that, especially with hindsight, they should’ve swapped roles, but it was pointless arguing about something that had happened. ‘Tell us what brought you here. Does it fit with what we’ve been describing?’

‘It does. My friend in the River Police and I were following up the shepherd’s crook because it stood out as the strangest part of the crime.

It seemed to us that anyone carrying such an object would be noticed unless they were accompanied by a herd of sheep– hardly this season’s fashion accessory. ’

Jacob felt a pang of satisfaction that the team had been functioning well in their absence. The pang felt a little like guilt. He should learn to trust their intelligence and not assume they needed him to do their thinking for them. ‘I’m glad you did that. You got a result?’

‘From one of the boatmen my friend knows. He said he was waiting to pick up a fare from just below London Bridge when he saw a man crossing the bridge with a bundle tied to the end of a shepherd’s crook.

He didn’t think much of it, assuming the man was on his way to the docks to take passage abroad, going to try his luck at his trade in the colonies.

He only remembered because the man looked a little too finely dressed to be an ordinary shepherd, more like a tradesman of means than a farmworker. ’

‘Did he describe the man?’

‘In his twenties. Fair hair. Medium frame. Straw hat. He couldn’t remember anything distinct about him, merely that he seemed ordinary and had a brown jacket with brass buttons. I thought of you as we questioned him. We could do with a sketch of this fellow.’

‘A young man disguising the crook as a way of carrying his bundle– that makes sense. I’d wondered how he’d managed to cross London with that in hand.’

‘There’s more. The man came down the steps to where our boatman was waiting to ask the way to the Tower.’

‘Which is right near Billingsgate.’ Now it made perfect sense.

‘The boatman offered to take him, but the man claimed not to have the coin to spare. He got directions for free because our informant said he felt sorry for him. The man said he had to hurry– our boatman assumed that was to make his ship in time– and he left.’

‘Anything else?’

‘The man spoke with what the Londoner considered a “funny accent”. When we pressed, he said it sounded like he was from “up north” but not Scotland. He was quite sure of that because his wife’s sister married a Scot.

I thought this detail interesting enough to hurry to join up with you and see what you made of it.

If the killer is from these parts, it stood to reason he might be back here now, and you might not be aware of the danger when you went asking questions.

I wished I could recall my letter, but it was too late. ’

That implied Alex had come to save them. He’d worried he’d sent them into a deadly situation and thought the best way to protect them– Dora especially, whom he looked on as a sister– was to come himself.

Dora reached out and squeezed Alex’s forearm. ‘Thank you.’

‘But it appears I should’ve stayed away.

You were already aware you were dealing with a volatile person.

Killing because they think some poem is giving them instructions?

That is the stuff of Bedlam.’ He turned to Jacob.

‘And I should’ve said already, I’m sorry to hear about your father.

I knew you were likely to be at Levens so when I learned of the stranger with the crook, I feared that might’ve taken you away from Dora– and I hated to think of her investigating this on her own. ’

‘It did take me away for a few days,’ acknowledged Jacob. ‘And though, as it turns out, we didn’t need you to warn us, we are glad you are here now.’

‘It is particularly helpful that we have someone on our team whom no one here recognises as anything to do with us. We might need you to keep an eye on some people who would notice if we were too often in their path,’ added Dora.

‘And then there’s the government man, Moss. While we’ve decided to trust him, I’d prefer to have someone on our side that he doesn’t know about.’

‘Don’t worry– I’ll happily keep well away from the government. What do we do next?’

‘We need to get to the truth about Knotte,’ said Dora. ‘Jacob, I’ve been thinking. I suspect he’s the sort who might’ve written it all down if we know where he has left his writings. I’m guessing there wasn’t anything incriminating at the cottage?’

She was right. Knotte’s vanity and his mania could mean he’d done just that. ‘Only a few jottings.’

‘He might carry a commonplace book with him for his notes, but he also mentioned he had a volume’s worth of poetry out with publishers. There must be an original manuscript somewhere here. He wouldn’t send off every copy he owned.’

‘Then search where he lives,’ said Alex.

‘We would but the problem is he’s homeless, going from lodging to lodging, staying with friends, staying where no one will notice he’s moved in.’

‘Now there’s an idea.’ Jacob got up and went to the window. ‘What about his family’s cottage? It’s not lived in– or not that I’ve noticed. He knows it better than anyone else in the valley. Would he not go back there if he needed a place to leave his private papers?’

Dora joined him by the casement and leaned against him. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the muslin of her dress sleeve. ‘It looks a sad place. He said his mother died there and his father drowned in the tarn.’

Alex came to her other side. ‘If he’s the violent man we suspect, are we sure his father drowned? Might he not have been helped to die, like that other man, that Barton you mentioned?’

‘Are you saying Knotte has been killing people for years and no one has noticed?’ asked Dora in an appalled tone.

‘You’re unlikely to start with an elaborate killing involving crooks and ropes at Billingsgate. Faking a drowning seems a much easier beginning to a career in murder.’

‘You’re right, Alex.’ Dora rubbed her arms, fingers brushing where Jacob touched her. ‘That is terrifying. And I spent an hour alone with him today– and we went past another tarn!’

Jacob pulled her closer into his warmth. ‘Let Alex and me search the cottage, Dora. You’ve done your part today. You stay and keep Ruby inside.’

She snorted. ‘Somehow, I think that might be the more disagreeable task, but all right: you two can break into the cottage. I’ll watch the road in case Knotte decides to come back here tonight. If I see him coming, I’ll bash the mop bucket with the poker– you should be able to hear that.’

‘Lock the doors,’ said Alex.

‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll bash him with the poker should he dare to come near me,’ she said fiercely.

‘She’d do it too. I’ve seen her in action,’ said Jacob. ‘Let’s head out, Smith. Sooner we go, the sooner we can be back and let Dora defend us.’