Murder For Love

Henry poured the brandy and passed it across.

"I see. Do you know by whom?"

"Oh, yes," Darcy said quickly. "A man called James Al-bury. To my sorrow, I have a passing acquaintance with him."

Henry hesitated. He had never encountered blackmail before, but he was willing to do what he could to help this young man so obviously in distress. Whatever his weakness or failing, another man's attempt to profit from it in this ma

As if reading his dilemma, Darcy spoke, leaning forward a little, the firelight warming the pallor of his face.

"I did not commit any crime, Mr. Rathbone, or I would not place you in the embarrassment of being party to it. If I tell you my story, you will understand."

Henry sat back and, without thinking, rested his feet on the fender. His slippers were already well scorched from the practice. "Please do," he said encouragingly.

Darcy sipped his brandy, cradling the glass in his hands.

"I was staying the weekend at the country house of Lord Wilbraham. There were several other guests, among them Miss Elizabeth Carlton, to whom I am betrothed." He took a deep breath and looked down. The flush in his cheeks was more than the reflection of the flames.

Henry did not interrupt.

"You will need to understand the geography of the house," Darcy continued. "The conservatory lies beyond a most agreeable morning room in which are hung some rather valuable pictures, most particularly some Persian miniatures painted upon bone. They are quite small, not more than a few inches across, most delicately wrought-with a single hair, so I have heard. There is no other door to the morning room except that into the hall."

Henry wondered where Darcy was leading. Presumably it had something to do with the miniatures.

Again Darcy seemed uncomfortable. His eyes left Henry's and he looked down at the carpet between them.

"Please believe me, Mr. Rathbone, I am devoted to Miss Carlton. She is everything a man could desire: honest, gentle, modest, of the sweetest nature…"

It occurred to Henry that these were euphemisms for saying that the girl was lacking in spirit or humor, and more than a little boring, but he smiled and said nothing.

Darcy bit his lip. "But I was rash enough to spend a great deal more of the evening than I should have in the company of another young lady, alone in the conservatory. I had gone in there, rather more by chance than design, and when I heard Lizzie… Miss Carlton, through the open doors into the morning room, I did not wish to be seen coming out with Miss Bartlett. She was… er… in high good humor, and… a trifle disheveled in her dress. She had caught her gown on a frond of one of the palm trees… and…" He opened his eyes wide and stared at Henry with wretchedness.

"I see," Henry said with considerable compassion. The truth of the matter might be as Darcy said, or it might not. It was not for him to judge. "Where do the miniatures come in to the matter?"

"Two of them were stolen," Darcy said huskily. "The alarm was raised as soon as it was noticed, and from the circumstances it was obvious that they were taken before Lizzie went into the morning room, although she said that she had not noticed their absence."

"And the blackmail?" Henry asked. "Is the suggestion that you took them as you passed through to the conservatory?"

"Yes. They were seen shortly before that!" Darcy's voice rose in anguish. "You perceive my dilemma? I was at all times with Miss Bartlett. She would swear for me that I did not, and could not, have taken them! But if she were to do so, then Lizzie would know that I was in the conservatory with Miss Bartlett… and I confess, Mr. Rathbone, that would be most painful for her, and some considerable embarrassment for me. Miss Bartlett's reputation is… less…"

"You do not need to spell it out for me." Henry leaned forward and poked the fire, putting on another two or three coals.

"Added to which," Darcy went on, "if I were to prove myself i

"I see your predicament," Henry said with feeling. Indeed, it was very apparent, as was his conflict of emotions over the wealthy Miss Carlton, who would not take a pleasing view of his dalliance, real or imagined, with Miss Bartlett.

"But I do not know how I can help. What does Mr. Albury require of you? You have not said."

"Oh, money!" Darcy answered with contempt. "And of course if I should pay him once, then there is nothing on earth to stop him returning again and again, as often as he pleases." His voice rose close to panic and there was desperation in his eyes. "If I once give in to him, he could bleed me till I have nothing left!" His hands were clenched before him. "But if I don't, he leaves me no alternative but to permit him either to ruin me or drive me to defend myself at Lizzie's cost, and the end of my betrothal and my future happiness." He bent forward and covered his face with his hands. "God, I was a fool to stay there in that damned conservatory, but there was no harm in it, I swear to that!"

Henry felt an intense pity for him. It was a piece of very mild foolishness, such as any young man might commit. Possibly most young men had, feeling the constraints of marriage and domestic ties closing around them, and taking a last opportunity for a gentle flirtation. Darcy had been caught by an extraordinary mischance. But Henry had no idea how he could help. He sought anything to say that would at least be of comfort, and found nothing.

Darcy looked up. "Mr. Rathbone, I can think of only one way in which this blackguard might be confounded…"

"Indeed?" Henry was greatly relieved. "Pray tell me how, and I will do all I can to aid you, and with the greatest pleasure." He meant it profoundly.

Darcy straightened himself and set his shoulders square. He took another healthy sip of his brandy and then put the glass down.

"Mr. Rathbone, if you, and some highly reputable and esteemed gentleman of your acquaintance-I know there are many -were to come to my rooms and secrete yourselves in the adjoining chamber, with the door on the jar, I could face Albury and entice him to commit himself verbally to precisely what he is doing. Then he will have damned himself out of his own mouth. With witnesses against him such as yourself, a disinterested party whose reputation no man would question, then I think he will not dare to press his case further. He could have as much to lose as I, or perhaps even more. No man of honor can tolerate a blackmailer."

"Quite!" Henry said almost eagerly. "I do believe you have the answer, Mr. Darcy. And I have half a dozen acquaintances at the very least, who would be happy to dispatch such a fellow and count it a service to humanity to do so. Lord Jes-mond leaps to mind most readily. If he is agreeable to you, I shall approach him tomorrow."

"Most agreeable, sir," Darcy said quickly. "An admirable gentleman, and his condemnation could ruin Albury, or any man fool enough to earn it. I ca

It was two days later on a sharp, frosty afternoon, with ice cracking in the puddles and a bleached winter sky that promised a bitter night, when Henry Rathbone and Lord Jesmond alighted from their hansom cab and presented themselves at Darcy's lodgings in Mayfair. They had not used Lord Jesmond's carriage in case its presence in the mews might cause the blackmailer to suspect a witness to his dealings.