Page 67 of The Companion’s Secret

They spoke over one another. Cami snapped her gaze to Mr. Fox’s face. His eyes were scanning her with interest, but she fared no better at reading the expression in their gray depths than she had with his voice. “No, I can see you haven’t,” he said. “Well, Lady Felicity should be the one to explain it all.”

“Please, Mr. Fox.”

But he was not to be persuaded. “I’ll take you to Trenton House now, if you like. My curricle is just in the lane. But the dogs—” He looked suddenly worried, remembering, she supposed, her fear of them.

“I—I don’t mind them so much,” she said. And it was the truth. “But Erica—”

“I’ve promised to take tea with Mr. Beals, remember?” her sister said.

It would be a shocking lapse of both duty and propriety to leave her sister to the company of two gentlemen they hardly knew, even if, as Mrs. Drake had whispered, they weren’t exactly the sort to threaten a girl’s virtue. “I couldn’t possibly…”

“Oh, Cami. Go on,” Erica insisted, dusting off her hands one at a time on her skirt. “Maybe someone in our uncle’s household will know what became of Lord Ashborough after he left Dublin. It would be a relief to have you stop fretting over him.”

A shudder of shock passed through her. Had she really been so transparent? She jerked her gaze to Mr. Fox, but he was busy tying a knot in the broken leash and appeared not to have heard.

Together, they descended the rise, Mr. Fox apologizing for not being able to offer both of them his arm. When they had taken their leave of Erica, they walked on to his curricle. Only blind Tiresias was allowed to ride; the other two dogs happily trotted beside them on the short drive into town. In less than half an hour—time spent in discussion of the weather and various other summer topics that felt to Cami like a deliberate attempt at diversion, rather than Mr. Fox’s customary pleasantries—they arrived on Brook Street. He helped her down but declined to accompany her inside, saying he had better be off with his menagerie.

Although she told herself she had imagined it, Wafford seemed to smile as he showed her in. Hardly had she crossed the threshold when Felicity approached, arms outstretched. “Cousin Camellia, oh, thank goodness. I’ve been so worried. Did you make it to Dublin safely?” Cami nodded. “And your family—?”

“We were fortunate, compared to many.”

“When did you return to town?” As she reached Cami, she hesitated. Her brow furrowed, as if she had just remembered something unpleasant. “It was really very heartless of you not to have written.”

“I’m sorry,” Cami said, scrambling for an excuse. “I—I feared my aunt would take a dim view of my letters.”

“Oh, well, you needn’t have worried about that.” Ready and willing to forgive, Felicity linked their arms and led Cami up the stairs. “Mama is in Derbyshire with Stephen. Since shortly after Papa returned. He is busy with the House of Lords most every day, of course, and—”

They were passing Uncle Merrick’s study at that very moment, and Cami could not help but catch the sound of voices. A familiar voice. Not raised, but clearly angry.

“I would have succeeded, you know, if not for your interference.” The speaker hesitated between phrases, as if his lungs were too weak to draw a full breath.

“I would not call it success, sir, if threats were needed to get the votes.” Her uncle’s voice, considerably calmer.

“But it was you, was it not, who put it about to the papers? His—his philanthropy?” He spat out the word. “Well, it doesn’t mean he’s not a rat. A rat with a guilty conscience.”

Felicity tried to urge her to continue down the corridor, but Cami’s feet felt glued in place.

“Five thousand pounds to St. Luke’s,” the rough voice continued, “with the promise they’d never reveal his name. Now, what I’d like to know is how you found out about it.”

“I had a letter.”

Cami’s heart leaped. She knew her uncle must be referring to her letter, in which she’d told him what Mr. Hawthorne had said. From the sounds of things, it had helped to sway opinion in Gabriel’s favor and thwart his uncle’s plot.

“Hmph. Anonymous, I suppose.” Before she and Felicity could move, the door flew open and Lord Sebastian Finch stomped through, leaning heavily on his cane. “Out of the way, girl. You?” He caught sight of Cami as he passed, and now paused to look her up and down. “This is your niece, isn’t it, Merrick? Your Irish niece?”

Her uncle now stepped into the doorway, and a smile warmed his blue eyes, so like his daughter’s. “Why, Camellia. This is a pleasant surprise. Welcome back.”

“So you’re the one my nephew took to Dublin, eh?”

Cami snagged her lip between her teeth, while her uncle’s eyes widened at this revelation and Felicity looked down at her hands.

“Didn’t think I’d know, did you?” Lord Sebastian sneered. “But the coach came from Finch House, and there are those who remain loyal to me.”

Oh, that ill-fated journey. Why, why had Gabriel ever undertaken it?

But she knew the answer to that question now. The terrible, wonderful answer.

He had done it for her.