him down.’
‘And his debt?’
‘Call it in.’
Aristide nodded. ‘This is on account of tonight’s unpleasantness?’
Sarre shut his eyes for a moment and then said,
‘You heard about that?’
‘His lordship made sure half the club heard about
it.’
‘Ah. So now
you know some part of what this is all about.’
‘Yes.’ Then, ‘ Part of it?’
‘The only part I can do anything about. Don’t you
want to ask if it’s true?’
‘I hadn’t thought of it,’ shrugged Aristide.
‘Should I?’
‘No. Thank
you.’
‘ De rien . And we
shall let Lord Sheringham reap the rewards of his own folly.’
* * *
Back in Cork Street and having refused Bertrand’s
offer of brandy, he lay back with a cold compress over his aching temples and
waited for it to effect some improvement.
Bertrand said, ‘You look like hell.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Aside from the obvious, how did it go?’
‘Better than I could possibly have hoped.’ Better
than I deserved, perhaps . ‘It
appears Sheringham isn’t universally beloved – which is useful – and he made an
exhibition of himself this evening.’ He
paused, then added, ‘I’ve told Aristide to give him a week’s grace before
turning the screw.’
‘Did you explain why?’
‘Not precisely. He thinks it’s because of what
happened tonight – which is true enough in its way.’
‘Is it?’ Bertrand looked sceptical. ‘You’re saying you’d have left Sheringham alone if he’d let sleeping
dogs lie?’
‘No. But
I’d probably have left him alone to dig his own pit.’ Sarre tossed the compress
aside and sat up, grimacing. ‘As it is,
I intend to ensure that when he falls into it, he stays there.’
* * *
Adrian slept for perhaps three hours and then woke
with a pounding heart and a headache of epic proportions. He shoved the tangled sheets aside and sat
up, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.
Marcus, this time. Of course. He ought to have
expected it.
Marcus … who had seduced Evie. Marcus … but for whom Evie would never have
been on the roof at all. Marcus … who,
arriving at Sarre Park to learn that his treachery had ended in tragedy, had
immediately responded with vile accusations of jealousy and murder.
And all the while, Adrian’s parents had stood by
and said nothing.
‘You killed
her!’ Marcus had yelled loudly enough for the whole house to hear. ‘ She
told you she’d changed her mind – that she wanted me, not you – and you lured
her up there and murdered her, you bastard!’
Still numb with shock, Adrian had been unable to
think lucidly. He’d been capable of
nothing but a string of incoherent denials.
‘No! It’s not true. I didn’t … I wouldn’t … I’d never hurt her,
no matter what. Why are you saying
this? It’s not true!’ And helplessly
to his parents, ‘ Why don’t you tell him? You know me, for God’s sake! So how
can’t you know it’s not true?’
But still they’d said nothing, but merely stood
there as if frozen. And that was when,
finally realising that he was on his own in this, Adrian had swung round to
Marcus and said, ‘ Fight me, then. If you believe what you’re saying, you’ll
fight. Now – outside. Swords or pistols. Your choice. Kill me, if that’s
what you want .’
‘ I don’t
soil my blade with murderers,’ spat Marcus insultingly. ‘Nor do I need to when I can see you hang.’
Adrian had lunged at him then, taking a wild swing
which might have connected had Marcus not stepped back, leaving the Earl to
block his son’s fist and hold it fast.
Marcus laughed, albeit a little shakily, and
turned towards the door.
‘ Don’t think
I’ll keep quiet about this, Eastry ,’ he’d said. ‘ You’ll
pay for what you’ve done. And I’ll see
you at your trial. ’
Adrian sat up and dropped his hands to his
lap. Of course, it had never come to
that