A Season to Be Sinful (44 page)

Sherry shrugged. That certainly is your right, It was then that Woodridge blinked, and Sherry knew he had pricked the man at last. I wonder what evidence I shall find linking you to Crick? I will be looking, you know, so if you have not covered your tracks already, there is time yet for you to do so. Whether your intention was to discredit me or whether you benefited from Cricks death in some way, I mean to eventually discover the truth, no matter what course the remainder of our conversation takes.

Woodridge gave a shout of laughter. I believe you are serious! Oh, this is rich. By all means, Sherry, you must do what you think is right, but be warned that if you take this course, you will discredit yourself. I will not have you say later that I was responsible for it.

I shall consider myself duly warned.

Woodridge simply grunted.

It occurs to me that it was the introduction to Lady Rivendale that put the stone in the pond.

Speak plainly, Sherry. What does that mean?

Ripples, Woodridge. I am speaking of ripples. I introduce my godmother to you, and not long afterward you sug-gest that some sort of relation exists that would make you entitled to a measure of her fortune. Perhaps you imagine I stand between you and that fortune; you might even believe I have spoken out against you in regard to my godmother remarrying. You put the Crick assignment before me, knowing it had the potential to go very badly, yet before you can announce that Crick was innocent of the charges, I discover the thing myself and bring it to the attention of others in our circle. I do not think you wanted me to leave our small group but rather to be placed in a position where you would have reason to watch me closely. By coming forward myself, the effect was exactly the opposite. I was given as muchif not morefreedom of movement and choice of assignments as anyone has ever had.

Woodridge rubbed his chin, his countenance unchanged by anything he heard. This is fantastical, Sherry, but please, go on.

Sherrys darkly intent eyes communicated hed had every intention of doing so. In spite of what was offered me, I was prepared to leave. It was not an easy decision; I knew what was expected of me. At the time, I thought I knew what you expected of me. I stayed longer than was my wont, longer than I should have. Within a fortnight of announcing my decision to go, an attempt is made on my life in Covent Garden.

You believe I had something to do with that? Gods truth, Sherry, that limb you have crawled out on will surely break under the weight of these absurd accusations. If you talked to Conway and Gibb, then you know few of us have been spared an assault.

But I was meant to die. The person who saved my life nearly did. The attempt on my life was the first. All of the ones that followed were intended to point to a different game. Yes, I know all about the poisoning you suffered. Easily faked, but even if you went further and took some potion yourself, I am certain you were never in any real danger. Moreover, I have no doubt there would have been another at-tack against me if I had remained in London. He shrugged. Though perhaps now that youre here, you will try again.

Bah! Now you are being ridiculous. If I wanted you dead, it would be done.

Sherry remembered saying much the same thing to Conway and Gibb. There was a difference, though, and he spoke to it. Your mistake was in not doing the thing yourself.

Woodridge neither explained nor defended himself, but he did blink again.

You cannot account for every particular when you hand over the work to another, Sherry said. You taught me that, you know.

I taught you many things, but I see little evidence of lessons learned. Woodridges sharp chin lifted in the manner of a challenge. You have yet to make your case. I am not persuaded by any of the things Ive heard. You will not pull a confession from me, Sherry. I am not Crick. I do not yield to accusation alone. There must be proof.

I have a name.

Then you have a liar. Anyone who confesses that I hired him to kill you is a liar.

He will not like to hear you have called him such. He has his standards, I believe. Call him a boman prig, and he would thank you for the honor. He wouldnt blush at being called a pimp. But name him a liar? I think Ned Craven would stick a shiv in you without blinking an eye.

The barons blink became a twitch.

The candelabra trembled in Lilys hand. Light flickered on the walls of the stairwell and across her pale face. How had Sherry discovered Ned Craven was responsible for the attack? Shed been so careful not to reveal more than a few inconsequential details, and shed discouraged him from speaking to Blue Rutland or making inquiries about Ned as they related to the boys. Shed always suspect that if Sherry knew Ned Craven was the one carrying the shiv that evening in Covent Garden, it would be more difficult, perhaps impossible, to persuade him that he was indeed the target of the attack. How easy it would have been for Sherry to convince himself that she had been Neds intended victim and lowering his guard might well have cost him his life.

How long had he known? she wondered. Lily didnt think it was likely hed come by this intelligence while yet in London. She doubted he would have left without resolving it in some fashion. That meant hed learned of it since arriving at Granville Hall, and there were few sources of that information here in the country.

Barring the possibility that Sherry had come by the knowledge through some correspondence with Blue Rutland, everything pointed to the scoundrels.

In hindsight, it was less surprising that they had revealed the truth to Sherry than that they had never whispered a word of that revelation to her. That understanding pricked her heart a bit, and the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth was a shade bittersweet. Lily reminded herself this was not a matter of Pinch, Dash, or Midge shifting allegiances, but broadening them. It was something to be not only hoped for but rejoiced in, and she would appreciate it in time.

Glancing around her, she noticed the candelabras light was no longer shivering. Her heartbeat had slowed, and her hand was once again steady. She edged closer to the panel so she might pick up the threads of the conversation in the gallery.

Will you have a stronger drink now? Sherry asked. Without waiting for a response, he rose and went to the door where he rang for Wolfe. When the butler appeared a few moments later, Sherry asked for a decanter of Scotch and two glasses. While waiting for Wolfes return, he observed Woodridge begin to assume a more relaxed posture. It re-quired some effort as this bearing did not come naturally to him. It was the sense he had of his own importance that made it difficult for the baron to affect ease in his carriage.

Sherry waved Wolfe into the room to set down the tray and take away the tea and uneaten cakes. He poured a tumbler for Woodridge and carried it to him. When the baron did not reach for the glass, Sherry said, If you like, I will drink first.

Unamused, Woodridge took the tumbler from Sherrys hand, then set it on the table beside him. I wont be needled by you, Sheridan.

Shrugging, Sherry poured a Scotch for himself and took his seat. He casually stretched in the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. He rolled the tumbler between his palms. Ned Craven. Do you mean to pretend you do not know the man?

Not only am I unacquainted with the gentleman, I have never heard the name before.

Sherry chuckled softly. Pray, do not lay further insult on poor Neds head by calling him a gentleman. He will certainly not thank you for it, though he will probably not be moved to kill you. Sherry reined himself in, allowing his smile to fade. Do you think Ned will not say a word against you? If you do, then you have overestimated your man. Perhaps you were unaware that he makes a fair living for himself in Holborn informing on others of his ilk. That they do not attempt to do the same to him is the truest measure of the power he wields there.

Yet it seems you are a veritable wellspring of particulars regarding Mr. Craven. How can that be?

Sherry was aware that Woodridge was getting his feet under him again. That was entirely agreeable. Pulling the rug out was only effective if the baron was standing. You cannot truly believe I would name my informants. Protecting them is one of the inviolable rules. Another lesson learned from you.

You are rather full of yourself, Sherry. Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

Proverbs, is it not? The smile was back in Sherrys voice, if not in the shape of his mouth. Tell me how you decided that Ned Craven would serve you in this latest enterprise. Asking a man to do murder for you is different, I think, than asking him to procure young girls or even young boys.

Woodridges fingertips whitened on the arms of his chair, but his complexion mottled. His sharp intake of breath was audible as air whistled between his teeth.

Sherry waited for the baron to collect himself. Am I wrong, then? Perhaps I have misremernbered what I was told. Boys were never your interest, were they? It is only that Ned is well known for acquiring them for gentlemen of a certain persuasion.

Perversion, Woodridge said tightly. Not persuasion.

You do not feel so strongly, I collect, about either murder or the purchase of les jeunes filles .

What is it you think you know, Sheridan?

Have I been less than forthcoming? I am saying your association with Ned Craven began as a business arrangement in which he found girls bearing a specific stamp for you. Over time, I think you recognized Ned might be useful to you in other ways.

Mentored him, you mean? As I did you? Made him one of us?

Sherry gave a shout of laughter. It was loud enough to set Woodridge back in his chair. Gods truth, I hope not. That would be the outside of enough. It is difficult to imagine any candidate less inclined to accept orders than Ned Craven. But perhaps that was your experience. He has not done well by you.

Woodridge shook his head, not to negate Sherrys last statement but to underscore his contempt for the accusations leveled at him. I am admitting none of it, you understand, but I should like to hear what sort of girls you imagine Mr. Craven procured for me.

You are fishing, Woodridge. I am familiar with the bait you are using, but it is of no matter. I would have told you whether you cast your line or not. He watched the baron set himself to take another blow. It was subtle, this preparation, but it could be seen in the fixed way he held his head and the stillness in his fingertips as they rested on the arms of the chair.

She would have to be a comely girl, Sherry said. Naturally, you would want some assurance that she was without disease. If Ned plucked her from the streets of Holbom then she would have to be young. You will understand if I do not speculate further in that regard, else I should be quite ill. He held up one hand, forestalling the barons comment. She would be slender, in the first bloom of womanhood perhaps, not buxom or bawdy. Virginal, I think, though not necessarily a virgin. Green eyes would make her worth more to you, but what would set her price above rubies is her hair. Red hair, I am told, but not just any shade. It must be dark, as befits a deep claret rather than fingers of fire.

Extraordinary, Woodridge said after a time. Not any girl you say, but one with red hair and green eyes. Thats remarkably peculiar of me. Does your informant say why I am so particular?

The lightness of Woodridges tone did not persuade Sherry to lower his guard, nor did it make him think his former mentor was truly so comfortable. It was a second cast of the fishing line. The baron wanted to learn the depth of the informants knowledge. Sherry did not answer the question posed to him, raising one of his own instead. What brings you here? Why leave London now?

There was no hesitation. To bring you back, of course. Not to London precisely, but back to our purpose.

I dont believe that is it at all.

Woodridge shrugged. Having been forced to listen to you impugn my honor, I am quite aware I shall have to accept failure. As I mentioned, I didnt understand that Gibb and Con had already been sent out on the same mission. I came under no ones direction. My reasons for wanting you back are entirely personal. I have always thought you were worth the effort, Sherry. I regret it has come to this between us. So much distrust. So many things said that cannot be recanted. It does present a rather hopeless situation, does it not?

Sherry regarded the baron consideringly. Then you did not come to wish me happy?

Woodridge offered a countenance creased by perplexity. Wish you happy? My dear Sherry, until you began to regale me with an account of these alleged misdeeds, I could honestly say that I held you in high esteem, but even so, to set out on the uncomfortable journey to Granville with nothing in my mind save to wish you happy, well, it would appear you have puffed up your own consequence and the significance you have in my life.

Lady Rivendale says the sun rises and sets by me, he said wryly. It is lowering to discover I am not at the center of all things.

Just so.

Then you were unaware of my engagement. It was more in the way of a statement than a question.

Engagement? You, Sherry? Woodridge picked up his tumbler of Scotch and lifted it toward his host. The gesture was as mocking as his smile. Of all the things youve said, that is easily the most preposterous, but since I am here, I will wish you happy. He knocked back a mouthful of his drink. Tell me her name. Is she known to me?