“Well, he’s no friend of mine,” Minna muttered, “but I’d never betray Ariane.
“It’s nice to know some loyalty exists in the world and you dancers—”
“Oh no, believe me, she’d kill me or rather have it done discreetly.” Minna looked bleak. “I’ve been here two years, and I know her methods. She is beautiful but deadly. But…” she hesitated, “…the truth is she’s a good friend, as long as one doesn’t cross her.”
“So you know her story, and that she’s wife-in-waiting to a man who now has a title, and is situating himself to take advantage of what has fallen lately and unexpectedly into his lap.”
“I know it,” Minna said warily.
“But what you don’t know perhaps is that it is at the cost of the life of the woman I love.”
Minna’s mouth dropped open. “I…I can’t know what you mean, sir. Wentworth is a strong and powerful man with a great deal of persuasive energy. I’ve seen it, and I’ve felt it. But he would never commit murder.”
Hugh looked furtively at the door, and then patted the seat beside him in the hopes she would sit there so he could lower his voice. There was little time to say what he must in order to persuade Minna to help him. If she even could. But if she were no friend of Wentworth’s, and if she knew something that could be brought against him, then Hugh needed to discover it now.
“I have no choice but to trust you in the hopes you might help me save the life of the woman I love,” he said urgently. “Tomorrow, sentence will be passed on Lady Cavanaugh, who is accused of murdering her husband.”
&n
bsp; Minna’s eyes widened. “My Lord, what are you saying?” She looked terrified. “Wentworth is Lord Cavanaugh. He inherited the title only weeks ago upon the death of his cousin and two brothers occurring the same night. Of course I know the story. The papers can print nothing else.” Agitated, she hugged herself. “Are you telling me you believe a different version?”
“I believe Lady Cavanaugh when she says Wentworth, who visited her and her husband frequently, forced her hand around the paper knife that killed her husband and made him heir. He forced her hand to commit the murder he desired and then condemned her for it. Tomorrow Lord Coulson will pass sentence on her. Her fate is already sealed for Wentworth has made a compelling case.”
“Lady Cavanaugh was his mistress,” Minna murmured, staring at her feet.
Hugh bridled. “I’m sure your friend Ariane was very put out and has turned you all against Lady Cavanaugh. Lord knows, she has few friends who will testify to the fact that she has been used as a pawn.”
“Oh, Ariane orchestrated the union of Wentworth and Lady Cavanaugh.” Minna looked at Hugh, her expression not altering at Hugh’s shock. She nodded. “Shortly after I started dancing here, I remember the story well. Ariane and Wentworth had been wed several years but had done so before Wentworth’s majority, and they knew he’d be disinherited if the marriage were discovered. Wentworth had two older brothers—one dimwitted, the other an out-of-control drunkard—so as he saw no chance of becoming Lord Cavanaugh, the plan was that he…” she blushed, “…sire Lord Cavanaugh’s heir. It was Ariane who conceived the plan that she should make Lady Cavanaugh her husband’s mistress and, with collusion from Lord Cavanaugh himself, who was…unable to sire an heir.” She looked at the floor. “Poor Lady Cavanaugh. I felt sorry for her, even though I didn’t know her. When Ariane gets an idea, no one escapes from her plan.”
Hugh winced. He’d felt dead inside when he’d first learned the litany of sins that littered Phoebe’s past. He’d believed she was easily coerced, and that she’d done it for gain. Minna painted a different story.
“Then you understand that Lady Cavanaugh is entirely innocent of the charge leveled against her.” He gripped Minna’s hands. “And I see that there is no love lost between you and Ariane and Wentworth. Please help me find something—anything—against Wentworth that I might use at trial tomorrow, and I’ll do what I can to help you.”
Minna smiled sadly. “There is nothing you can do to help me. I was a poor vicar’s daughter before I was enticed to London to be the mistress of the man I thought would marry me, and now I am a dancer and for the first time have accepted an offer that will both damn me in the eyes of God forever, but will secure the happiness of my little sister who believes me dead. If Sir Gawain does not come to save me, I have another plan even if it places my sister’s future in jeopardy, though I will find another way to protect her—just not through the sacrifice of what last bit of integrity I have left.” She slumped as she finished her speech. “I would do whatever I could to help you, but I’ve told you all I know.” She rose, took a step towards the door, hesitated then turned. “All I can add is that Lord Coulson, the magistrate I think you mentioned, is a regular visitor to Mrs Plumb’s, and that he is here in one of these rooms now.” She rose and held out her hand. “In case it is in the interests of justice, I could take you to the peephole. He’s probably had it closed, but there is a possibility you might see something that could be used to…persuade him that condemning Lady Cavanaugh to death is rather extreme when his proclivities invite the death penalty too.”
20
Hugh followed Minna a little way down a corridor where she stopped, pointing to the end of a passage at right angles. From the room to the right, he could hear faint singing punctuated with breathless sighs. Several patrons sagging against each other as they traversed the passage brushed past and disappeared through a nearby door, not closing it before shrieks of laughter issued into the corridor.
“Go to the last room,” she whispered. “I must return to my antechamber in case Sir Gawain does come for me.”
Hugh nodded. “Thank you, Miss Minna, for your great help,” he said. “I hope your own story will end happily.”
She shrugged. “It will end in some fashion, but whether that is happily, I would not begin to speculate upon. My fate is not in my hands.” She turned, saying softly over her shoulder, “I wish you good luck in your endeavors, sir, and will read the papers with great interest.”
Consumed by the hope of what he might soon discover, Hugh made his way stealthily toward the room she’d indicated. Like the previous one, its door was flanked by luxuriant potted palms, the perfect cover for putting one’s eye to a peephole. He ran his hand over the green-papered walls and felt the slight indent. But the hole was covered.
His spirits fell, and he stood uncertainly by the wall, wondering what he should do. The room was at the end of a long corridor, and his position there was very obvious. He decided to return to the reception rooms, and was a few feet into his return journey when a slight, fair-haired gentleman in evening clothes, wearing a mask and heading in his direction, stopped him.
“Where are you going, my dear?” he asked, looking Hugh up and down with raw appraisal, his hands on his hips, his expression arch. “I haven’t missed out on all the fun, have I?”
Hugh glanced over his shoulder and saw that it must be apparent to the young man that he was returning from the very room upon whose occupants he’d hoped to spy.
His uncertainty in what to say was misconstrued, for the gentleman tipped his head to one side and said, “Lost your way, have you? Told all the fun you were looking for was in Room 404?” He giggled suddenly, and to Hugh’s incredulity, took his hand. “Well, don’t be shy; Reggie will look after you. There’s lots of fun to be had in Room 404 if you come with me.”
Hugh pulled back. “No, really, that wasn’t at all…” he floundered.
Reggie dropped his hand and gave Hugh a considering look. “You just want to watch? Never done this sort of thing? Got a wife at home, eh? Maybe this is your first time?” He began to gently run his hand up and down Hugh’s coat sleeve, his smile colluding. “That’s all right,” he whispered. “You can just watch. We’ll find you some nice comfy cushions for you to lie back on and be comfortable while you see how it’s done.” He flashed Hugh a wicked smile and added, “As soon as you feel ready, you can join in.”