Dangerous Knight by Elizabeth Johns
Chapter Twenty-One
By the time Jack and Philip arrived at the barracks, Wellington had already instructed Newsom to be taken away from the proceedings.
“Since he is the one Jennings first accused, I want to hear Jennings give his version of events without Newsom intimidating or interrupting,” Wellington explained. “I have also asked Lloyd to be absent for now, but he is nearby, under the supervision of Major Knight. Shall we hear what Jennings has to say?”
Jack and Philip followed Wellington into a plain, rectangular room where Jennings was seated in a chair under guard.
“You may leave us for now,” Wellington said to the soldier.
The duke sat at a table across the room and folded his hands before him. Jack and Philip remained standing.
“It has been a long time, Jennings. I assume you have a good explanation for your conduct?”
“I will only speak if I am guaranteed a pardon,” Jennings said.
Wellington remained as calm and cool as ever. Newsom was intelligent, but did not have the air of calm confidence about him that Wellington did.
“If you will give me the proof of who committed treason and murder, and that person is not yourself, then I will speak to the Prince on your behalf. That is the best I can guarantee you.”
Jennings thought for a moment. “I suppose that is the best I can hope for. At least you do not offer me false promises, as Newsom did.”
They all waited. Silence compelled more men to speak than any other method.
“I was in India, as you recall, sir.”
Wellington inclined his head indicating he did.
“I was Newsom’s sergeant back then. He and Smythe fought a duel of sorts over a village woman. Smythe had married her and she had borne a son. Newsom thought to take the woman as his whore whenever it was his fancy to do so. Typically, this was whenever Smythe was away.”
Jack and Philip exchanged glances. They both knew where this was leading.
“One night, Newsom had me stand guard while he had his way with Mrs. Smythe. Smythe came home and found them; the two men fought and Newsom killed him.”
“I knew of the death, but not the circumstances,” Wellington responded thoughtfully.
“It was covered up, but Mottram knew the truth, as well as Harrington.”
“Harrington?” Wellington interrupted. “I have not heard that name in almost fifteen years. He and his wife died in a fire. Are you telling me that was no accident?”
“Yes sir. I did not witness the murder, but I heard it. I was waiting for Newsom outside, on the porch. Harrington said he would not cover it up and had already written an account of the offenses to be sent off with the dispatches to England. Because of Newsom’s rank, it had to be dealt with by the War Office. I believe Harrington would have held him in prison if not for Mottram.”
“What has Mottram to say to this? Is that why Newsom accused Lloyd in the Park? And why did you agree to go along with this complicity?”
“Newsom offered to buy me a commission, if you recall. I was made a captain for my silence, which is no small thing for a man like me.”
“A captaincy which you later deserted,” Wellington said coldly. “Then, I gather, you blackmailed him?”
“It was a small price to pay for my silence. I could not bring Smythe or the Harringtons back to life, now, could I?”
“And now?”
Jennings shrugged. “He was paying well.”
Jack and Philip were awaiting their turn. Wellington looked up at them and gave a slight nod.
“Where does Feathers come into the piece?” Jack asked.
“Feathers’ original name was Neville Smythe. He was the son of the one Newsom murdered. He was brought back to England and placed with a family, to be brought up as their own.”
“At some point, he then discovered or remembered who he was.”
“Aye. A few months back, he started to blackmail Newsom. I cannot say why he waited until then. He bled Newsom and his brother dry, though.”
“Did Lord Worth know of this?”
“How much he knew I cannot tell you, but ’tis my belief he wanted to keep the family’s name clear.”
“The stolen documents—did Feathers take those? I presume they were the accounts Harrington wrote of the incident in India?” Philip asked.
“That is what Newsom believed. I never saw them,” Jennings answered.
“How was such a report overlooked?” Wellington shook his head. “I have no desire to know why it happened, but we have need of the documents now, for proof. Have you any idea where Feathers kept them?”
“No, and I have been searching for them for weeks,” Jennings answered.
Wellington pursed his lips. “Should I find the proof, there is still one more thing I wish to know before you may be released. You were found with a cache of weapons and ammunition in the Park. Why were you trying to assassinate the Prince? No word of acquittal I put in for you will exonerate you from that.”
“No, sir. You were the one. Newsom paid me to kill you, not the Prince.”
“I beg your pardon?” Wellington asked calmly.
“He was always jealous of you, sir. He had hoped to find a way to implicate you in Smythe’s murder.”
“Yet did not Harrington foil that? Is that not why he was killed?”
“I believe Mottram was to thank for that. He told Newsom he would keep mum but the scrap had to stop there.”
Wellington blew out a long breath. “Why, however, has this resurged now? He is the head of the War Department! Why would he still want to best me?”
Jennings barked a harsh laugh. “With all due respect, sir, consider what was just taking place in the Park—the victory celebrations. Your victory. No one even knows who Newsom is.”
Jack smiled inwardly. What Jennings said was true.
“If I recall, you were our best marksman. You could have shot me any number of times had you wished. You did not take that shot tonight. Why?” Wellington asked.
“It seems even deserters have their own code of honor,” the man said with a shrug. “You had never done me any harm.”
Wellington gave Jennings a small salute and left the room. As Jack and Philip followed, Philip instructed the guard outside the door to detain Jennings until further notice.
They left Whitehall and went to the mews to retrieve their mounts. Once they were trotting back toward Mayfair, Philip finally spoke. “Do you share my feeling there is still a piece missing?”
“I do, and I strongly feel that it involves my ward.”
“You saw her at the Park tonight, I conjecture?” Philip remarked.
“I did, and she had better be tucked up safely in her bed as we speak.”
“Shall I come with you? Are you afraid Newsom will again try to hurt her?”
“No, I think this is best left to me. I will let you know in the morning if I find anything of use.”
“Best of luck, old chap,” Philip said with a smirk as he pulled Cicero away in the direction of Mottram Place.
Jack took Adonis to the stable himself, using the time taken in removing the saddle and rubbing down the horse to think.
Kate had once mentioned she had lived in India. The timing would be right, but what was the connection? He stopped in mid-brush and Adonis objected by turning to nuzzle his arm. Recalling that the name Harrington had been used on the report signed by the steward at the time Kate was acting in that capacity, he cursed as everything suddenly made sense. “Kate’s father was Colonel Harrington,” he informed the horse. Smoothly finishing the brushstroke and his task, he patted Adonis and went into the house.
Kate was waiting for him, sitting in a chair by the fire in his study.
She had been crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and his heart ached so much for her that he knew he could never leave her.
*
Kate had spentthe last two hours crying, remembering her parents and what had happened. She must have blocked it from her memories, and now she was making up for fifteen years of grieving for them. She was also anxious about what was happening at the barracks. Was the truth finally coming out? Or would Newsom find a way to put the blame on yet another person?
Kate failed to understand why such a man as Newsom could be the way he was. Outwardly, it appeared he had so much – family, connections and a successful military career. However, being a second son and always second to Wellington had obviously allowed jealousy to take root and become his obsession.
When she heard Jack return home at last, she stayed where she was. He would see her. She had had hours to think of what to say, but now that he was here, she did not know where to begin.
When he finally stood in the doorway, looking tired, yet still the most handsome man she had ever seen, she knew that everything would be well. Certainly, she would not let him go without a fight.
He walked over to her and kneeled before her. She leaned forward and embraced him, tears escaping yet again. She was so grateful to have found him, and he understood.
“I know, Kate,” he whispered in her ear.
“India,” she said through her tears. “He killed them. I watched Newsom kill my parents.”
“Yes, and we will make him pay.”
“Do you still have the key?” she asked, drying her tears now that she had said the words.
He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small iron object. “Why? Have you discovered what it opens?”
“No, but I think I know where it might be. It is just a notion I had.”
“Is it something that can wait until morning?”
“Unless you would like to break into a silk emporium in Cheapside, in the dark.”
He was perplexed, and it must have shown on his face. She wiped away his furrowed brow and leaned forward to kiss him. Their lips met and it felt like fire, but it was much more than a kiss. It was an unspoken vow of more to come; of a lifetime together.
She pulled back and pressed her forehead to his. “We shall marry,” she stated, as a matter of fact.
Jack laughed. “I might take more convincing,” he murmured. Leaning forward, he claimed another kiss.
“I warn you, sir, I may have to tell my guardian that a rogue has been stealing kisses before marriage.”
“Who is the blackguard? I know how to deal with such a villain. You should stay far away from him.”
“You will have to force him to marry me,” she muttered saucily.
“If you insist,” he said, then attempted to make her lose her wits entirely. He almost succeeded.
The next morning,Kate awoke and smiled at her canopy, remembering that Jack had agreed to marry her. She also recalled what had transpired before and her remembrances, but she knew he would help her deal with the past. First, they must find the proof.
She called for Simpson and again dressed in her green military riding habit. She was feeling very official and it suited her colouring. She went downstairs and found Jack, dressed in his uniform, waiting for her in the breakfast room.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling shyly.
He came to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I will apply for a special license once our task this morning is complete.”
She looked askance at him. “A special license?”
“Oh, yes. Aunt Hattie is not enough to protect you from the lecherous rogue.”
Kate laughed as he seated her at the table and they shared a breakfast of kippers, potatoes, sausages and eggs.
“I could get used to this,” he said over his coffee cup.
“I should hope so,” she retorted in a sarcastic tone.
With a dramatic flourish, he put down his cup and glared at the ceiling. “It was supposed to be a compliment.”
“We will work on your tact later.” She stood up and smoothed her skirts. “Now, let us see if my instincts are correct about the key.”
Jack consulted his watch. “Philip and Felix should be here at any moment. I asked them to accompany us. I sent notes to both of them, explaining our errand. They both know what transpired with respect to your parents.”
Kate nodded, her throat again constricting with grief. Swallowing hard, she controlled her emotions while they waited. Within five minutes, Captain Everleigh and Major Knight had arrived.
“Why are we visiting a silk emporium? I certainly would never have guessed that,” Lord Philip remarked.
“I cannot be sure,” Kate answered, “but Lady Maria and I came upon Mr. Feathers there. While his costumes explain his being there, his behavior did not. I had strong feelings while there, and somehow, I found myself in front of the building last night, after someone bumped my arm in the Park. All the remembrances I had shut away, about my parents and India, suddenly overtook my senses.” Kate avoided looking at Jack, who would be angry with her for going there alone, she knew.
“It is a better guess than any I have had,” Major Knight remarked.
“It turns out Feathers’ mother was Indian, so perhaps there is a connection. Could he have owned the place?”
“It is a possibility we can look into later. Shall we go before the polite world awakens?” Lord Philip asked.
It was still too early for the fashionable to be abroad when they arrived in Cheapside. Nevertheless, merchants opened their doors at such an hour for business with the working class and with other merchants.
Jack whistled once they were inside the warehouse. Bolts and bolts of fine silks, and tables and tables of cottons, muslins and other fabrics filled the room with bright colors. “It looks like Mr. Feathers’ wardrobe,” he remarked in an offhanded manner.
Kate ignored him and walked toward the back of the building. A small staircase led to the upper floor, where the offices were situated.
The gentlemen followed her lead. She knocked on a glass door, and a small Indian woman opened it. At first, she looked confused at the entourage of soldiers before her, but then she looked at Kate. “Miss Harrington?”
Kate studied the woman more closely at the use of her true surname. “Madhuri?” she queried. The woman had been a friend of her mother’s.
“Yes, ’tis I!” She kissed each of Kate’s cheeks. “You are as beautiful as your mother. What may I do for you?”
“This is Major Knight, Captain Owens and Captain Everleigh,” Kate responded, indicating each gentleman in turn. “Unfortunately, we come on an errand. We are seeking a safe box or some other place Neville might have hidden something. Neville was your son, was he not?”
Madhuri’s gaze fell to the floor. “Yes, he was. You have come looking for the documents. I knew he would come to a bad end, but he had revenge eating away inside him and he could not let it go.” She turned, and walking to another door, indicated for them to follow. She led them through what appeared to be her private apartments. There were several rooms including a sitting room, which looked much like those Kate remembered from her childhood. Behind the farthest door was a strong-box.
Kate held out the key; Madhuri placed it into the lock and with a click, it turned. She removed a folio and handed it to Captain Owens. “I hope this will finally see Newsom punished for what he has done. It is not right for one man to hold dominion over people’s lives in the way he has done.”
The gentlemen took the papers back into the sitting room to study them. Kate took Madhuri’s hand and led her to a sofa. “Are you well taken care of here? Is there anything you need?”
“I am happy enough here, although I miss Neville terribly.”
“I infer that you know what happened to him?”
The older woman nodded. “I could feel it in here,” she said, pointing to her chest. “The game he played was very dangerous.”
“Did he own this warehouse?” Kate asked.
“No.” Madhuri half-smiled; even through her grief she looked proud. “It was how he found me again. He was taken from me as a child and brought back to England. When I was able, I came here to find him. I will be comfortable in my old age, priya,” she said, squeezing Kate’s hand. “You will come to me when you marry.”
Kate looked astonished.
“Your love is written on your face. It will be soon, then?”
“I hope so. He must return to the Continent to fulfill his duties.”
“Then I shall prepare a gift for you. Come back here before you leave.”
Kate embraced Madhuri and found the gentlemen were waiting for her. As they walked out of the emporium and then rode back to Mayfair, Kate listened with half an ear to their discussion of what they had found. When they duly arrived in Half Moon Street, the friends found a visitor waiting for them in the drawing room.
“Sir!” Captain Owens said with surprise when they entered and found the Duke of Wellington sitting in an armchair, partaking of a cup of coffee. He stood and bowed before Kate.
“Forgive the unexpected call, but I wanted to inform you all that Newsom was found dead this morning, apparently by his own hand.”
“The coward,” Jack growled. He handed the leather folio to the duke. “Thanks to Miss Rafferty—or should I say Harrington?—we were able to find the proof against him.”
Wellington looked at her with a smile. “I knew there was something familiar about you.”
“At least Kate will have one old acquaintance in Paris, then,” Jack drawled.
“Why am I not surprised you would end by marrying your ward, Owens?” Wellington shook his head. “Then I shall offer my congratulations and welcome you to our little tribe. Are you certain you can stomach the lot of us?”
“Clearly, Your Grace, you never had the fortune to meet Jack’s grandmother,” Kate answered with a smile.