When Ross gave an exaggerated shudder, Sara said, "Foolish question. As if anyone could withstand Aunt Marguerite."
"Mother keeps muttering that I am turning into a hermit, and that it is her duty to drag me into society regularly. I'm beginning to think it's time to take another trip. Constantinople first, then perhaps down through the Levant."
Sara repressed a twinge. Exploration of the world's wilder places was a dangerous business. But she understood her cousin's need to roam, and she would not try to stop him any more than his parents did. Those who loved Ross knew that an empty society life in England would soon drive him mad.
First Jenny, then Gates, and now Ross. As Sara led the way into the drawing room, she realized that her honeymoon was over. She and Mikahl might enjoy each other just as much tonight as on the previous nights, but they were part of the world again.
* * *
Peregrine dropped his hat negligently on a table when he entered Slade's office, but his offhand manner was pure fiction. Inside, he vibrated with excitement. "Good morning, Benjamin. I was delighted to hear that the die has been cast. How is the City reacting to news of the volley of lawsuits that hit the L & S Railway yesterday?"
"The stock lost half its value this morning, and it's dropping like a stone." Slade pushed his chair back and laced his fingers across his midriff. "Investors would have been able to take the compensation suit calmly, and perhaps even the injunction barring construction over Crawley's land. But the charges of harassment of landowners and manslaughter in the death of Jimmy Crawley have terrified them. The only thing worse would have been if there had been enough evidence to have Weldon arrested outright."
"Splendid." Peregrine sat down and crossed his legs casually. "Absolutely splendid."
"That is a downright unnatural attitude for a man who has just lost twenty thousand pounds and stands to lose considerably more," Slade complained.
"The satisfaction it brings me is cheap at the price. Are there any other developments?"
"I understand that Hammersley's bank was about to lend Weldon enough money to pay off the notes you hold, but with the decline in value of the railway stock, I'd be surprised if the bank doesn't withdraw." The lawyer pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If he wants to avoid default, he will have to go either to a friend or the moneylenders."
"Or perhaps Weldon may blackmail someone who has been particularly indiscreet in one of his whorehouses," Peregrine said cynically.
"Does the idea of that bother you?" Slade asked. "To think that some poor devil might be crucified because of the financial pressure you're putting on Weldon?"
"A man should be willing to live by his deeds," Peregrine said, unimpressed. "Only a scoundrel or a hypocrite can be blackmailed. Perhaps Weldon's death struggles will flush another few scoundrels from the shrubbery."
The lawyer toyed with his pen. "You've got Weldon where you want him. You've broken up his betrothal and married the woman who would have been his wife, destroyed his hopes of a title, and pushed him over the financial brink. But have you thought about the consequences if he learns that you are behind his troubles? He could be a very dangerous man."
"I expect him to learn that," Peregrine said cordially. "Indeed, I want him to know. Vengeance would be less satisfying if it were blind."
The lawyer looked up sharply. "That's a cavalier attitude. What if he strikes back at you through Lady Sara?"
"Do you think I cannot protect my wife?" Peregrine said, his voice going ice-cold.
"Do you mean to keep her prisoner? In London particularly, anyone can be at risk from a marksman with a good rifle," Slade pointed out, his voice equally cold. "Can you protect her without her discovering some of the truth, or don't you care if she learns of your feud?" He scowled. "For that matter, she has already been an unwitting pawn in this lethal little game of yours. Do you really care if she becomes an innocent victim?"
Pure rage swept through Peregrine. "You go too far, Slade," he said furiously, slamming his palm down on the lawyer's desk. "What's the matter, do you fear for your own precious hide?"
"Some," the lawyer said, refusing to be intimidated. "I have covered my tracks as well as possible, working through a chain of intermediaries, but a determined investigator could find me. And through me, you."
Slade pushed back his chair and tossed his pen on the desk, where it landed with a flat rattle. "You saved me from disaster in India, Mikahl, and in return I've served you to the best of my abilities. But I'm a lawyer, not a soldier, and frankly I have no great desire to be a martyr to your obsession. What about members of your household, like Jenny Miller? Or friends of yours, like Lord Ross Carlisle? Or your wife's father? Can you protect them all?"