Thirteen
“Lord Lavender.”
Gates’s tone was heavy with disdain as he announced Lavender’s arrival after Reginald and Paul’s lazy morning in bed. They bathed and dressed together and Reginald felt invincible as he reclined on the sofa in the sitting room. Well. He felt delightfully numb but he had a plan and had sent instructions to Lavender before their bath.
“I stopped to talk to Lord Coonan as you requested and he’s invited the Commissioner, Lord Winterstone, and O’Leary around for luncheon,” Lavender said as he entered and paused, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at the sofa, then at Paul as he brooded by the window. “You’ve consummated the marriage, I see.”
Paul made a weary sound but kept a watchful eye on the street. He was not a fan of Reginald’s plan. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Lord Marston’s made it everyone’s business since we met at Boodle’s,” Lavender drawled. “He was on the hunt to find his husband and it appears he was right about you.”
“He’s been right about a lot of things. Shall we go?” Paul was impatient and Reginald wondered if he was hoping to get it over with. If Reginald was proven right, Winterstone and O’Leary would be locked up and Paul could go back home to Chicago. If he was wrong and everything blew up in Paul’s face in front of the Coonans and the Commissioner, they could finally have Reginald bundled into a straight jacket and safely locked away in a padded room.
“Yes, but don’t be so glum,” Reginald said as he got to his feet but Paul’s mood remained bleak as the three of them rode to the Coonans’.
“You’re sure you’re ready, Marston?” Lavender asked while he watched the road. It wouldn’t be a long trip so Reginald assumed he was on the lookout for any of Winterstone’s or O’Leary’s associates. “There’s no going back and you’ll only get one chance with Winterstone. He’ll destroy you if you can’t end this now.”
“Don’t say that!” Reginald hissed and waved for Lavender to stop scaring Paul. His expression had gone from gloomy to snarling.
“I won’t let him destroy Reginald. Not when O’Leary and Winterstone have left a trail of young women from here to Ireland. That’s seven if Reginald’s right about Lois Mara.”
Lavender ducked his head in agreement but he was pensive as the coach came to a stop along the curb. “Let’s hope that they get what they deserve. But all Lord Winterstone needs is for Marston to appear to be mad or lying and he’ll walk out of here with his reputation intact and ours in tatters,” he said to Paul. He snorted back at Lavender.
“That won’t be happening. I’ll kill Winterstone myself before I allow that and I’ll break every bone in Sir Francis’s body if he touches Reginald,” Paul stated. He was the first one out when the door opened and Lavender had to stop Paul before he kicked down the Coonans’ front door.
“You’ll show our hand and give Winterstone the advantage if you start a brawl before Marston can convince the Commissioner,” he said, snapping Paul back into line. He settled and nodded at Lavender.
“We’ll follow Reginald’s lead.”
“Thank you!” Reginald clapped Paul on the back and gave his shoulder a knead. “But that was incredibly hot and I am so turned on right now. I’d see if you were up for a quick ride in the coach before we deal with Lord Winterstone and Sir Francis but Lavender would have a fit.”
“To say the least,” Lavender snapped and gestured at the Coonans’ doorman impatiently. He was at the top of the steps and waiting to take their coats and hats.
“Don’t worry. This won’t take long,” Reginald said as he jogged up the steps. He took off his hat and handed it to the footman. Reginald was taking off his overcoat when he spotted Lord Winterstone and O’Leary. They were in the dining room with Lord Coonan and the Commissioner and they had yet to sit down.
“What are they doing here?” Winterstone barked and O’Leary’s hackles were up as he put a cigarette out in an ashtray on the table. A large purple bruise covered his right eye and he was seething as he headed straight for Paul.
“Don’t make me send for my wife. She won’t stand for this behavior in her dining room,” Lord Coonan said, attempting to inject a bit of levity. The Commissioner coughed loudly, calling the room to attention as Lavender crossed his arms and hovered just inside the dining room. His presence was menacing enough to give O’Leary pause and the young Irishman drew back and went to stand behind Lord Winterstone, ready to do his bidding. Lord Winterstone threw Coonan a suspicious look before smirking at Reginald.
“Very well, Lord Marston. You’ve taken quite a bit of interest in my business, though I cannot discern why. I’m curious to see what it is you’ve learned.” He gathered himself up in his well-cut day suit and looked down his nose at Reginald.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Reginald wagged a finger at the older man. “Not by the likes of you or any stuffy old lord,” he promised. “I know all about you and I know just about everything about Sir Francis. It took this hellish little jaunt through Victorian London to put all the pieces in order but I’ve finally done it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Winterstone demanded and looked at the Commissioner. “We’ve all heard that Marston’s lost his senses.”
“One would have to believe I’d had any to begin with,” Reginald countered and continued. “But I’m not the one that matters. I’m rather insignificant in the grand scheme of…all of this,” he said as he gestured around them. All but Paul’s and Lavender’s eyes searched as everyone tried to follow Reginald’s meaning. “I’ll tell you who really, really matters: Margaret O’Reilly, Lois O’Mara, and one other woman but we’ll save her for last,” he said because Lord Winterstone and O’Leary had gone as white as ghosts at the mention of Lois O’Mara. “And may she haunt your souls for eternity.” Reginald pointed and his voice wavered as he cursed all the Winterstones and Learys, past and present, for their transgressions.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lord Winterstone said as he attempted to leave but the Commissioner stopped him.
“I think we’ll hear him out,” he announced, his voice carrying through the house. As if summoned, because they probably were, four uniformed policemen stepped into the room and made their way to the corners behind O’Leary.
“This is ridiculous!” Winterstone objected. The Commissioner humphed as he turned back to Reginald.
“As you were saying, Lord Marston.”
“Thank you.” Reginald pressed a hand to his chest. “As I was saying, we’re here because you damned your souls when Winterstone decided Lois O’Mara didn’t matter.”
“She was just some…maid they found in a pond,” Winterstone said with a dismissive swat. Reginald’s face twisted as he became sick.