“No.”
“Because…”
“Because I slept with Ahl before we married, and I married him while I was drunk, and when he hit me, I had him beaten half to death and thrown on a ship to nowhere, and then I divorced him in his absence. And every single part of that would revolt Eadweard, and even if I didn’t tell him any of it…” She took a deep breath. “He doesn’t approve of divorce. Not for the best reasons, conducted in the best way.”
Crane wasn’t entirely convinced that Leonora’s divorce was legal at all, done as it had been by a few words from a friendly and inebriated magistrate. “Leo, are you sure this engagement is a good idea?”
“Yes. He doesn’t have to know. It was a mistake, it’s done with.”
“Alright. So why are you worried about the announcement in the papers? Either Ahl is out of your life or he’s not. You haven’t heard from him, have you?”
“No, no.” Leo sounded dismissive, but there was a thin line of worry between her brows. “No. He’s not the trouble.”
“So what is?”
Leonora looked away, and the truth dawned on Crane like the morning of an execution.
“Leo, have you by any chance had a visit from Theodore Rackham recently?”
She spun back to face him. “How did you— Oh God, not you too?”
“He came to see me yesterday.”
“Oh, damn him. The little shit.” Leonora bit her lip, worry in her eyes. “You have to be careful, Lucien, this ridiculous country will put you in prison without a thought. What are you going to do? Have you paid him?”
“Have I hell. I told him to fuck off. I always said I’d leave this damned island in a heartbeat rather than submit to blackmail. And I would…”
Leo looked narrowly at him. “But?”
Crane sighed. “But someone else is involved.”
“Your righteous man?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, please, Lucien, I do listen to you.” She shook her head, mercurial mood changing, and the conspiratorial grin he knew so well lit up her face. “Go on, tell me. Who is he? Can I meet him? Is he handsome? How long has this been going on? He’s not married, is he? Are you in love?”
“Calm down, woman,” said Crane, laughing. “Er…that’s hard to explain, no, not precisely handsome but very appealing, about four months, not married, and…I enjoy his company. I’d call him a just man, rather than a righteous one, incidentally.”
“Interesting distinction. Does Merrick like him?”
“Very much. Likes him, respects him, and is just a little bit scared of him.”
“Really.” Leonora sat up straight. “What kind of man scares Merrick?”
“A just one, of course. You’d like him, Leo. Rackham, however, doesn’t, and has threatened to destroy him unless I pay up.”
That quenched the brief spurt of laughter in Leonora’s eyes. “Can he?”
“Possibly. I need to talk to him. My lover, not Rackham. So what’s he threatening you with?”
“He said he’d tell Eadweard everything. About Ahl and that week before I married him. He said he’ll tell Eadweard I’m not divorced, and you know, it will be dreadfully hard to prove I am, and even if I do… Eadweard doesn’t believe in it, he thinks that what God has joined, men should not put asunder. I know he loves me, but I think he’ll leave me if he finds out all this.”
“You could just deny it all.”
“I could try, but…well, if he started looking… It would destroy everything. He wouldn’t trust me again.” Her eyes were wide with hurt at the thought.
“No, probably not.” Crane felt a momentary sympathy for the absent Blaydon. “You know, Leo, the proper course at this point would be to confess everything. Either Blaydon will forgive it all and you’re happy forever, or he won’t but you’ll both know where you stand.”
“No.” Her voice was flat. “I shan’t. I don’t see that I deserve to have my chance at a new life spoiled by something that, honestly, thousands of other people do every day. Why should I live as a nun because I made a mistake seven years ago? How often did you get drunk and wake up in someone’s bed? What about that warlord?”
“Don’t remind me. I’m not arguing, but I’m not Blaydon either. And it won’t be any better if he finds out after you’re married.”
“That’s why I wanted to wait,” Leo said. “But Eadweard doesn’t want to. He wants children. I’ve told him I never could with Tom but he’s willing to take the chance.”
“Good for him. What exactly were you hoping this wait would achieve? How is this going to go away?”
She gave a little helpless shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“How much have you paid Rackham?”
“Three hundred pounds, last week. He wants more. He sent a note this morning saying he’d call tomorrow. He must have seen that damned notice.”
“Hmm.” Crane frowned. “He asked me for five thousand.”
“How much?”
“And…Merton’s dead, did you hear? Last week.”