The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [150]
He felt her stiffen a little in his arms. ‘You have a good memory.’
‘What did you mean?’ He hesitated, ‘Why did you say it?’
Emily laughed, unconvincingly. ‘I don’t remember now.’
Pyke, though, wasn’t ready to let the subject go. ‘In what way were you not the person I might have imagined?’
‘How can I possibly answer that, Pyke?’ She sounded irritated. ‘I don’t know how you imagined me, do I?’
‘Oh, I imagined you to be virtuous, honest, generous, open.’
For a while, they were both silent. ‘And you don’t think I am those things now?’ She wouldn’t look at him.
‘I didn’t say that.’
Emily wriggled free from his grasp and sat up. ‘So what are you saying, then?’
‘I was watching you talk to Jo today. I noticed how close the two of you seem to be.’
‘What’s this all about, Pyke? Am I being accused of inappropriate interactions with my servant?’ Her tone and body language suggested she was tired but Pyke knew she was rattled, too.
‘I’m not accusing you of anything.’ Pyke waited for a moment. ‘But if I asked what business your servant Jo had following me even before I had first visited Hambledon, what would you say?’
In the darkness, he could not make out Emily’s expression. ‘I don’t understand, Pyke.’
He told Emily about his sighting of Jo in the Blue Dog tavern and said Jo’s intervention had possibly saved his life.
‘But why might Jo have been following you?’
‘Perhaps she was assessing me.’
‘Assessing you? For what purpose?’ Something in Emily’s voice struck an odd note.
‘Or for what role?’ Pyke waited for a moment. ‘And I was also wondering what if Jo knew more than she let on, the time she came and visited me in the church.’
‘You’re talking in riddles.’
‘She told me about your proposed meeting with James Sloan. She also happened to mention she’d overheard your father in conversation with his lawyer, something about a codicil to his will.’
‘A codicil?’ Emily’s voice was quieter, her tone less combative.
‘Did you know that your father had drawn up a codicil to his will?’
For a while, Emily didn’t answer. The atmosphere between them grew strained, even tense. ‘If I said that I’m happy now, happier than I could ever have imagined, and that you’re the reason for my happiness, would that be a sufficient answer?’
‘I’d be flattered, of course.’
‘What you did for me, finding and rescuing my mother, and taking such good care of her, was the kindest, noblest thing anyone has ever done for me.’ Now his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he saw tears streaking her cheek.
‘I did it because I wanted to.’
‘But you’re still not reassured?’
‘In this codicil, your father stipulated that, after his death, not a penny of his money was to go to charitable causes.’
‘I see.’ Emily’s expression was troubled. ‘Don’t you think some questions are best left unanswered?’
‘Like whether you actually believe your father died of a heart attack?’
That drew a sigh of indignation, possibly even anger. ‘What is it you want from me?’
But Pyke knew he already had everything he wanted. In the back of his mind, he had known all along that Emily had wanted something from him, and perhaps had selected him for a role that he himself had been happy enough to fulfil. It made it sound so calculating, so cold. Perhaps it was. Perhaps he had willingly allowed himself to be used. Perhaps he had used Emily himself, for he now had everything he had ever wanted. Edmonton’s estate was in a rotten condition - it had long been mismanaged and, in spite of his greedy, high-handed ways, the cost of maintenance still outstripped rents - but the land itself was worth more money than Pyke had ever dreamt of, and he had married a woman he loved. But did it matter? Pyke thought about something he’d said to Peel. Virtue was defined by its consequences. What were the consequences, then? Emily had sufficient money to fund her charitable works. Edmonton was dead.