“What about that bilge rat?” asked one of the men, pointing to where Cockburn lay curled in the corner.
“Leave him for now,” replied the earl. “Baz, perhaps you could tend to his scratches. We wouldn’t want him to bleed to death before we hand him over to the authorities.”
At that, Cockburn’s whimpers grew louder.
The surgeon blew out a huff of disgust. “I’d rather cut off his cojones. But I suppose we ought to let justice take its proper course.” He gave a curt wave at Gavin’s lifeless form. “Haul the carcass away, laddies. And keep a close guard on things outside until we decide how te deal with this night’s work.”
“It was all Gavin . . . he forced me . . . I can explain . . . ,” began Cockburn.
Ignoring the appeal, Henning turned to Arianna. “What about you, lassie? Are ye hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. A few bumps is all.” She chafed at her arms, feeling a chill seep through her skin now that the warmth of Saybrook’s big body was gone. “And perhaps a slight headache from the Devil’s Delight.”
The surgeon brushed a callused fingertip to her cheek. “I’ve got some arnica salve in the carriage. It will keep the bruising down.” To the earl he added, “I thought ye were going to keep her safe! Did ye stop fer a wee dram along the way?”
“Don’t badger the earl,” she murmured. “He was . . .” A storybook hero? No, that made her sound like a sentimental schoolgirl. “He was . . . quite efficient, especially considering his recent injury.”
“Yes, well, we have chocolate to thank for a happy ending to this affair,” quipped Saybrook. “I owe my restored strength to its potent healing properties.”
Healing. For all her aches and bruises, Arianna realized that she felt remarkably free of pain.
“Help me! I’m dying.” Cockburn’s piteous whine interrupted their exchange.
“Ye deserve to,” muttered the surgeon, reluctantly shuffling over to the marquess.
“I swear, it was all Gavin’s idea,” repeated Cockburn, as Henning began to tend to his injured hands.
“Indeed?” said Arianna. She imagined that Saybrook would subject the dastard to a thorough interrogation, but first she had some questions of her own. “We’ve already figured out the basics of the stock scheme, and I now understand why Prinny was poisoned. But how did Major Crandall fit in? Why did he try to kill Lady Spencer’s chef?”
“C-Crandall was my cousin.” Cockburn groaned as Henning staunched the bleeding with strips of linen torn from Gavin’s cravat. “He was recruited to keep us informed about state security activities.”
“So it was he who told you about the upcoming secret meeting of allies?” asked the earl.
“Yes,” answered Cockburn. “The timing seemed perfect, and he was supposed to ensure that the chef was blamed for the Prince’s demise. But when you were called in to investigate, it was decided to eliminate the chef. You see, Gavin worried that the cursed fellow had spotted him sneaking into the kitchen.”
Arianna thought back to the night, and the other shadowy figure she had seen with Concord in the corridor. “So Concord knew nothing about the poisoned chocolate?”
“No, nothing at all. We—That is, Gavin made up an excuse concerning the Devil’s Delight narcotic in order to arrange for a clandestine meeting at Lady Spencer’s town house. He claimed it was urgent business, but he didn’t want Lady Spencer to know of the partnership, lest she demand a cut.” Cockburn drew a deep breath. “As we told you, Concord was unaware of our plans for a New World trading company. He only became suspicious when Kellton panicked over Crandall’s death and ended up revealing more about the scope of the business than he should have.”
How ironic, thought Arianna. Once again, the echo of her father’s laugh began to whisper in her head, along with the lines of his favorite poem. The best laid plans of mice and men . . .
“And Lady Spencer had no idea about any of this, either?” she asked.
“No. She was only involved with Concord and Kellton on a minor deal to supply cheap boots to the army at premium price. Her role was to persuade the Prince to award them the contract.”
Saybrook shifted his stance, throwing his face deeper into shadow. “Kellton was brought in because of his experience with the East India Company, correct?”
“He was very clever with numbers and had a great deal of experience with drafting shipping records,” confirmed Cockburn. “But more than that, his amorous relationship with Lady Spencer allowed him to gain access to certain important financial papers. Her grandfather was—”
“We know who he was,” interrupted Arianna. “Just as we know his papers were key in helping you create your new company’s calculations.”
“How—,” began Cockburn.
“Never mind that,” said Saybrook brusquely. “I want to know more about Crandall. He was Grentham’s lackey, so does that mean that the minister is one of your conspirators?”
“God, no. If Grentham has a weakness, it is not money.” Cockburn grimaced. “Nor anything else that I could discern. I was delegated to judge whether he might be tempted to join our group, but in the end, I advised that it was too dangerous to try.”
“So it was you, from your position in the Foreign Ministry, who made contact with the French?” pressed the earl.
“N-nobody in Europe is going to stop Napoleon,” responded Cockburn evasively. “His new army is going to thrash the Eastern opposition. So it was in our country’s best interest to engineer an end to this interminable conflict and sue for peace.” His voice grew more wheedling. “Think of all the lives that would be saved.”
“And what of my father?” asked Arianna softly. “Why did you and Gavin decide that he should die?
Cockburn wet his lips. “I swear, it wasn’t my decision. I was quite fond of Richard—really I was. But he cost us a great deal of money by refusing a reasonable fee to handle the mathematics for a very lucrative deal with a Baltic supplier of naval supplies.”
Her father’s blood, calculated in buckets of pine tar and spruce spars.
“And then, he threatened to expose the arrangement. So, well . . .” Cockburn gave a beseeching lift of his shoulders. “I was an ocean away! Had I been there, I would have tried to use reason. But as you saw, Lady Arianna, Gavin could turn violent when crossed. If only Richard hadn’t pushed him.”
If only. Arianna couldn’t find her voice. She looked away, only to catch a fleeting glance of Saybrook’s lidded gaze darkening to the color of coal.
“Getting back to the present crimes, you must have a French contact here in London. Who is he—or she?” demanded Saybrook, darting a sidelong glance at her. “For I’ve learned not to underestimate the female intellect.”
“I—I don’t know, I swear! Gavin arranged it all. I only know his code name. R-renard.”
The fox.
“How very crafty of you,” murmured Arianna. “Did you think a plea of ignorance would excuse your treason?”
“Gavin was just a lowly baronet, and had become obsessed with acquiring wealth and power above his station—he went too far! I couldn’t stop him.” Cockburn was babbling now, and appealing to the earl with a wave of his newly bandaged hands. “Surely you see that, Saybrook. He wasn’t a true gentleman, not like us. God help me but I was as much a victim as anyone. I agreed to skim a few profits, not be party to murder. Once it began, I had no choice but to go along with his plans. You’ll help me explain it all to the authorities, because . . . because . . .”
“Because of the bonds of blue blood?” suggested the earl. “The fraternity of titled families whose heritage stretches back centuries?”
“Yes. Precisely.” Expelling a sigh of relief, Cockburn flashed a sweaty smile. “I knew you would understand.”
“Ah, but you forget that I am a mongrel.” Saybrook grimaced in disgust. “And you—you are a contemptible cur.”