Frederick and Ryder nodded.
Ryder touched his napkin to his lips, then lowered it and said, “According to Mordaunt, Hadley claimed Aurelia will give him any money he wishes once she has access to the marquessate’s funds—quite how she would do that, Hadley didn’t specify, but he had told Mordaunt of Aurelia’s fear of scandal and how she would do anything to ensure the Barkshaw family name remained untarnished.”
“That was something Mordaunt could and did check,” Frederick said. “He had information on the elder Barkshaws and the older brother and his family that confirmed what Hadley had told him—namely, that the Barkshaws value their scandal-free name above all other considerations.”
He paused, then went on, “Obviously, when Mordaunt saw the announcement of Stacie’s and my engagement—and then the wedding occurred so soon afterward and quietly to boot—he leapt to the obvious conclusion.”
The ladies’ faces conveyed their dawning comprehension of how, to an outsider, the unexpected betrothal followed by a wedding twenty days later might appear. “Oh,” Ernestine said.
Stacie’s eyes met Frederick’s. “What did Mordaunt do?”
Ryder answered, “Unsurprisingly, Mordaunt wanted to ask Hadley just what your engagement, and then your marriage, meant in terms of his investment, but it took him another few weeks to hunt Hadley down.”
“By which time,” Frederick took up the tale, “Hadley had decided that—as you and I were conveniently in the country, out of sight of everyone, including Mordaunt—that I was suffering from an incurable illness, and our engagement and marriage was actually a noble kindness arranged by our families designed to give you”—he nodded down the table to Stacie—“an established spinster, the protection of my title and a dower settlement on my death, which was expected at any minute.”
Ryder shook his head in disbelief. “I have to admit to being in awe—Hadley shouldn’t have been able to worm his way out of such a situation, but he found a story that Mordaunt didn’t know enough not to believe. Hadley played on Mordaunt’s expectations of ton behavior and got away with it.”
Frederick drily added, “Hadley also spun a tale that Mordaunt wanted to believe—he didn’t want to think that he’d been played like a fish on a line from the start.”
“But,” Mary said, “Mordaunt now knows the truth.”
“Indeed.” Ryder cut a glance at Frederick.
Frederick noted Ryder’s look and transferred his gaze to Stacie. “In order to ensure that Hadley didn’t, somehow, manage to dream up yet another twist, I felt it wise to tell Mordaunt of our expectations of an addition to our family in January.”
“What?” The dowager sat up and, along with the other ladies, looked at Stacie.
She blushed delightfully and tipped her head their way. “We only found out yesterday, when Dr. Sanderson examined me.”
As delighted as his wife and proud with it, Frederick smiled as congratulations rained down on both him and Stacie.
Eventually, however, the ladies refocused, and Mary asked, “So what do we do next?” She looked around the table. “I assume we’re all in agreement that it’s Hadley who has been arranging the attacks on you both?” At the last, she looked from Frederick to Stacie.
It was Ernestine who suggested, “This Mr. Mordaunt doesn’t sound as if he would be the most forgiving of men. Is it possible for us to…well, leave it to him to suitably chastise Hadley?”
“No.” Both Frederick and Ryder had spoken simultaneously. Ryder looked to Frederick, who explained, “Mordaunt is not a man to cross—Rand and his sources were abundantly clear on that point. And yes, Mordaunt will be exceedingly keen to wreak vengeance on Hadley—not least to ensure the story of how Hadley has effectively swindled him never gets out. However, quite aside from the moral question of consigning even Hadley to the untender mercies of someone of Mordaunt’s reputation, I can’t be comfortable giving Hadley any chance whatsoever of doing something desperate in a last-ditch effort to placate Mordaunt.”
Her features set, Stacie nodded. “For instance, by attempting to kill you himself.”
His eyes flicked to meet hers. “Or you.”
Their gazes held for an instant, long enough for each to sense the other’s resolution.
“Consequently,” Frederick said, “as we have no evidence beyond the circumstantial, I believe we need to confront Hadley and force a confession from him.”
“Not by—in any way, shape, or form—using yourself as bait.” Stacie’s words rang with iron-clad determination.
Her tone brought a smile to Frederick’s lips. He inclined his head. “No, indeed. I am not of a mind to place either of us at risk.”
He glanced at Ryder.
To the ladies, Ryder said, “As we speak, Mordaunt will be arranging to go after Hadley, but first, Mordaunt’s men will have to find Hadley, and Hadley’s proved adept at avoiding them. However, that does mean that whatever we do, we need to move quickly—before Hadley realizes something’s changed and that Mordaunt is after him and, this time, decides to take matters into his own hands and makes a bid to remove Frederick or Stacie.” He glanced at Frederick, then at Stacie, and grimly added, “For Hadley’s purpose, either of you would do.”
Tapping his fingertips on the tablecloth, Frederick said, “While we might, eventually, be able to assemble formal proof of Hadley’s involvement in the attacks, to do so, we would need to trace the thug—or possibly thugs—who have been trying to kill us over the past week, and we don’t have time for that.”
“Nor,” stated the dowager, “would we wish to visit a scandal of such magnitude as a criminal trial on this family.”
Frederick inclined his head in acknowledgment. “So that leaves us facing the question of inveigling Hadley to say enough before witnesses to implicate himself.”