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Clem looked once more to Dora. “Well,” she said briskly, “I for one am heartily glad that Hetty came to her senses before taking such a disastrous step as tying her lot in life to a man like Sir Matthew Hillingdon. A man clearly beneath her,” she added, lifting her chin.

Fields’ head snapped up and he stared first at Dora and then fleetingly at Clem. “That’s the line you mean to take, is it?” he asked.

“Pray, what other line is there?” Dora asked pointedly. Felix puffed out his cheeks, but Clem guessed he did not have the heart to point out that most so-called respectable families would throw Henrietta out on the street for such a thing. “Once people see her family standing behind her then others will follow suit,” she said firmly.

“She’s an actress,” Clem pointed out, “not a debutante. Luckily.”

Fields bristled a bit at that, but then the starch seemed to go out of him, and he slumped back in his seat, scrubbing a face over his hand. “People are already saying things,” he grumbled. “Gossip is rife. We could lose all our backers over this,” he warned, “and we’ve lost most of them already this past week. Jameson has already written me a damn haughty letter. Man’s nothing but a damn jumped-up sawbones at the end of the day! Infernal cheek of the fellow!”

“If we lose them, we lose them,” Dora said grimly.

Clem held his tongue. Losing every last sponsor would be a blow, a sizeable blow. Willing financers were much harder to come by than pretty actresses. Still, one glance at Dora told him now was not the time to point this out.

“I seem to have a done a damn poor job protecting either of m’sisters,” Fields commented morosely.

“That is hardly flattering to present company!” Dora pointed out.

“Your pardon, Dabney,” Felix said absently and drained his glass.

“Another drink?” Clem found himself offering.

Fields perked up. “Ah yes, good of you,” he said, handing over his glass.

Clem glanced at Dora’s glass, but she had done no more than wet her lips, so he did not refresh hers. Once seated again, he eyed Fields curiously. He’d accepted his drink and now sat staring down at it in brooding contemplation. This was not the conversation Clem had anticipated having at all.

Fields suddenly straightened. “I’ve been thinking,” he said resolutely. “How much would it cost to hire a couple of thugs to rough Hillingdon up good and proper?” He addressed his words at Clem, and Clem waited a moment before responding.

He regarded his brother-in-law steadily over the rim of his glass. “It depends what you mean by good and proper,” he answered coolly.

“Enough to make him feel very sorry for himself for a week or two, but no broken limbs,” Dora interrupted promptly. She threw an approving glance at her brother. “I was thinking along the same lines myself,” she admitted. “Only I was going to ask Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Clem said sharply, turning his head. “Why the hell were you going ask Eddie and not me? At least your brother had the sense to keep it among family!”

“That was precisely why,” she replied. “I did not want there to be any direct link to any of us.”

“Well, I wasn’t considering assaulting him in person,” Clem responded with asperity. “And did it never occur to you that Eddie might be traced back to The Eagle and Sun and consequently, us?”

“Perhaps so,” Dora conceded, “but Eddie does not have a motive or a direct link to our family should the reprehensible business come to light.” Clem opened his mouth to argue, but she forestalled him. “I also wanted to get it organized before Vincent does anything rash and you have rather a lot on your plate right now.”

“Vincent?” Fields repeated sounding vexed. “Now why did I never think of asking that fellow?”

“Because he would be the principal suspect should anything happen to Hillingdon,” Dora responded with exasperation. “Everyone knows he would lay down his life for Hetty just to earn her smile.”

She turned back to Clem. “No, I have thought it through,” she said sincerely. “Whomsoever performs the deed should also divest the victim of his wallet and watch. That way it will simply look like common theft and the authorities will conclude no personal grudge is involved. Afterward the perpetrator can”—she waved a hand vaguely—“throw Hillingdon’s personal effects into the Thames or something.”

Clem thought of Curly Watkins who had been the first candidate to come to mind for the job. Curly would not need telling to help himself to Hillingdon’s possessions. He would be lucky to keep his shoes and the coat off his back. “He would be more likely to head for the nearest fence,” he admitted. The lack of broken limbs, however, would need to be stressed several times over. Curly was not gentle.

“How much would it cost to arrange such a thing?” Felix repeated for all the world as though he was ordering his shirt fronts starched.

Clem shrugged. “This one’s on me.”

“That’s damned good of you, Dabney,” Felix enthused.

“Think nothing of it.”

“You must let me know when it will take place, so we can ensure Vincent has an alibi,” Dora said in all seriousness.

Clem lowered his glass. “I will speak to Vincent, Dora,” he said with a frown. “You are not to utter another word about the business.”