Dexter folded his arms. “I shan’t leave until I have satisfaction,” he said. “If you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I shall return tomorrow and the day after—and the day after that, until you do.”
“Is everything all right, sir?” The footman appeared in the doorway. Alderley glanced from him to Dexter, then his shoulders slumped, and he sighed.
“Yes, Wilkes,” he said. “Now, leave us.”
Dexter waited until the footman had closed the door behind him, then he raised his eyebrows and waited.
“I gave the child to the cook,” he said. “She had a sister in the next county, who took it off my hands. At considerable expense to myself, I might add, but it paid for her silence. And a waste of money it was, too, for the cook told me the brat died shortly afterward.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Bloody bastard cost me a fortune from the day she was born.”
Dexter gritted his teeth. Was that all Alderley had seen Meggie as—a financial burden? And her child—a waste of money?
“What did the child die of?” he asked.
“Damned if I know. Does it matter?”
“It matters to his mother.”
“That disobedient little slut!” Alderley spat. “After all I did for her, she spread her legs for the first man who came along.”
“And you took Meggie’s child as punishment for her disobedience?”
“It was my right!” Alderley said. “She was bought and paid for—by me.”
“Why did you pay for Meggie’s upkeep if you hate her so much?”
“Her slut of a mother threatened to tell my wife if I didn’t pay for her upkeep,” Alderley said. “Then she ran off with the next man she took a fancy to and left me with the brat. But I’d made a promise, and so I stuck to it. I’m a man of honor, Hart. I keep my word.”
“A man of honor!” Dexter scoffed. “You’ll use the letter of the law—and a contract—to suit your purposes. You twist promises you make to deceive and betray. There’s a difference, Alderley, between sticking to your word and sticking to your principles.”
“Spare me the lecture on morals,” Alderley said. “You’ve had your answer. Now go, before I ask Wilkes to throw you out.”
Dexter laughed. “I’m no longer the helpless child who you beat, and neither are you the man wielding the whip. You get your thugs to do your dirty work for you.”
“And what about you, Hart?” Alderley asked. “How did you make your fortune so quickly? By offering the hand of friendship to desperate men in the form of a loan, then profiteering from their misfortune by seizing their assets when they cannot pay the interest?”
He rose to his feet, leaning on his cane.
“Tell me, Hart, are we so different? Or are we just two sides of the same coin? Like black and white on a chessboard, identical in every respect except for how we’re perceived. We both use our pieces to secure an advantage over our opponent. Haven’t you used your subordinates like pawns? Didn’t you intend to use my daughter Elizabeth to suit your ends by marrying a title? In giving you my bastard instead, I did what any other man would do. If you were in my position, you’d have done the same.”
“The difference between us is that I no longer see Meggie as a piece to wield against an enemy,” Dexter said. “I had thought she was my queen—the most powerful piece on the board. But she’s not. She’s the king. The one piece I’d sacrifice everything to protect. The one piece, who, without her, the game is lost.”
He moved toward Alderley until they were almost touching, chest-to-chest. “That night at cards,” he said, “the night you tricked me. You thought you’d sacrificed a pawn, a worthless piece to gain a strategic advantage over your enemy. But you were wrong, Alderley—so wrong. In giving her to me, you conceded the game.”
He looked into the eyes of his old enemy and saw nothing but a pathetic man who would never find peace. The hatred he’d harbored for Alderley for so many years had been extinguished.
Now, all he felt was pity.
He offered his hand. Alderley’s eyes widened, then he took it. His skin was paper-thin and translucent, blue veins visible beneath. Brown liver spots adorned the back of his hand, which shook with age.
“Perhaps, now, we understand each other,” Dexter said. “We’ll never part as friends, but perhaps it’s time to draw a line under the past and declare a truce.”
Alderley nodded and squeezed his hand.
“I’ll see myself out,” Dexter said. “Rest assured, I won’t visit again. Neither will my wife.”
As he approached the main doors, Dexter heard voices coming from across the hallway. A door opened, and two people walked out—Elizabeth and a man he never expected to see at Alderley Hall again.
George bloody Hanson.
Elizabeth gave a small gasp, but Hanson smiled, with the same look of satisfaction on his lips the day Dexter had confronted him about Daisy. Elizabeth patted her hair, but she could not conceal her disheveled state, nor the flush of female satisfaction.
“Dexter!” she cried. “What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same,” Dexter replied. “Hanson—what a coincidence you’re here also. I had wondered why Fate kept drawing us together, but…” He glanced at Elizabeth, “I suspect there’s a mortal hand on the tiller.”
The answer to the riddles was sliding into place.
“Tell me, Hanson, what persuaded you to seduce Meggie?” Dexter asked. “Or, should I ask who?”
Elizabeth paled and gave Hanson a sharp frown.
Dexter laughed. “How long have you been her creature, Hanson? Eight years?” He turned to Elizabeth. “Tell me, woman, how long had you known you had a sister? Were you jealous of her? Even though she was tucked away in obscurity whereas you were the pampered lady, wanting for nothing? Did you see her as a rival for your father’s attention and set out to destroy her?”
She glanced at Hanson, fear in her eyes.
“Let me guess,” Dexter continued, “you persuaded Hanson to seduce her so that Alderley would send her away, is that it?”
“She was a slut—a bastard!” Elizabeth cried, “a disgrace to our name! I couldn’t have her tainting our reputation. Papa was a fool, spending time and money, which was mine and my brother’s!”
“Your brother left for the army as soon as he was of age,” Dexter said. “I doubt he’d care.”
“But I do!” she cried. “And I’ll do anything to get what I want. Just like you.”
“I don’t set out to destroy lives,” Dexter said, “nor cheat my way into getting what I want. Was the ruination of an innocent worth it for a few extra jewels?”
“Of course it was!” she cried. “It’s a small price to pay if I get what I want.”
Dear God—Daisy!
“And my sister?” Dexter asked. “Was she in your way also?”
Hanson shuffled on his feet, the guilt in the air so thick, Dexter could almost taste it.
“Why the devil would you be jealous of Daisy?” Dexter asked. “What was she to you?”