by Cheryl Holt
He might wed in September, but it wouldn’t be to his cousin.
“I need you to visit Ralston Place for me,” she said.
“You can request any favor, but probably not that.”
“I have some disturbing news about Jacob, and I can’t confide in Luke. I’m scared about how he’d handle it.”
“Uh-oh. I don’t believe I’ll like where this is headed.”
“No, I don’t believe you will.”
Caleb blew out a heavy breath. “He seduced Joanna?”
“Yes, and then out of the blue, his relatives claimed he was recalled to duty without any warning. After he left and was no longer around to protect her, they burned down her house and chased her off the property. What I’m worried about is this: Is there a chance he’s a cad and he didn’t really return to the navy? His kin insisted it was true, and Joanna didn’t question their story, but might he have used it as an easy excuse to be shed of her after she was ruined?”
“You think he might be loafing in his front parlor at Ralston Place?”
“I’m not acquainted with him, so I’m trying to persuade myself it’s not that. I’m telling myself he’s your brother, and he wouldn’t act that way.”
“I hate familial quagmires,” Caleb said. “I assume I’m riding to Ralston Place to find out if he’s there.”
“Would you?”
“And if he is? I’m guessing I have to drag him here and force him to wed her.”
“Well, you Ralston men do need a bit of a shove toward matrimony.”
“When must I go?”
“How about first thing in the morning?”
“What happened to you?”
“I cut my leg.”
Jacob was in Kit’s office, watching as he limped in and eased onto a chair. He’d taken Kit’s spot behind the desk, so Kit was forced to sit across from him. Kit was very conscious of his status, so it was a petty act on Jacob’s part, yet he was enjoying the paltry snub.
He’d been struggling to figure out what would become of Kit once Sandy and Margaret returned. Kit didn’t have an income except for what Jacob paid him. If Jacob sent him packing, he didn’t have any friends to offer shelter. From the time he’d been a little boy, everything he possessed had come to him from the Ralston family.
He’d never appreciated it though.
“How did you cut it?” Jacob asked.
“Oh . . . ah . . . I tripped and sliced it on a fence post. The slash is very deep, and it’s not healing.” Kit snorted with a grim amusement. “It’s too bad Miss James vanished. I could have used her to clean it out.”
“Where do you suppose she is?”
“I can’t imagine. With a girl like that, any destination is possible. Maybe she hopped on her broom and flew away.”
“Very funny.”
There had been no word about Joanna and Clara. Jacob had servants questioning the neighbors, and he’d posted inquiries in shops and taverns over quite a wide area, but there had only been one reply. A teamster had been driving by in his wagon, and he’d smelled smoke in the woods, so he’d stopped to check for a fire.
The cottage had already burned to the ground, with a few hot spots remaining, and there had been no sign of Joanna or Clara. No one had seen them in the village, on the road, or anywhere else. It was as if they’d disappeared into thin air.
Jacob was such a conceited ass that they’d rarely talked about her. Their conversations had always focused on him, so he had no idea who she might call upon if she was in trouble. It was definitely difficult to search when he had no information.
“You seemed fond of her,” Kit said. “Were you ever able to lift her skirt?”
“Shut up, Kit. Even if she and I had dallied, I’d never tell you about it.” Kit pulled out a kerchief and dabbed at his brow, and Jacob said, “You’re a bit feverish.”
“I’m injured! The wound is infected, and I’m not feeling well.”
“I apologize; I should have left you in your bed. Have you summoned the doctor?”
“He’s in London for the week.” Kit waved a hand, as if his health was of no consequence. “The housekeeper gave me one of Miss James’s ointments, so I’ll be fine. What did you need?”
Jacob pointed to a document on the desk. “I had an audit commenced, remember? Of the estate accounts?”
“Yes, I remember, and from how you’re glaring, I’m betting it wasn’t good news. If we’ve suffered losses, I hope you don’t intend to blame me. I can’t control the weather or make your tenants work harder.”
It was typical that Kit would deflect any culpability, and Jacob was weary over the entire situation. He never liked to quarrel, but honestly! If he hadn’t commissioned the audit, how long would Kit have continued to steal?
Instead of delving to the heart of the matter, he said, “Sandy and Margaret will be back soon.”
“That will be so bloody awkward. Sandy’s ego is as big as a barn, and after she raised him up like this, he’ll be unbearable.”
“He can be cocky,” Jacob blandly agreed.
“Have you any advice as to how I should deal with him? He was our stable manager, and now, he’s your brother-in-law. How, precisely, am I to boss him? Margaret has created an incredible fiasco.”
Jacob was about to say, You’ll be gone, so you don’t need to worry about the problem.
Suddenly, a footman knocked and poked his nose in. “I realize you asked not to be disturbed, Captain, but you have a visitor, and the butler thought you should be apprised immediately.”
“Who is it?”
“Apparently, it’s your half-brother. Mr. Caleb Ralston?”
Jacob’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Caleb is here? Really?”
“Yes. Will you meet with him? The butler brought him into your library.”
“Well . . . ah . . . yes, I’ll meet with him. Give me a minute to wrap up with Mr. Boswell, and I’ll be right there.”
The boy hurried off, and as his footsteps faded, Kit said, “Caleb Ralston has waltzed in our door? He has some nerve. What could he want?”
“I can’t imagine. He must have dire news to impart, so I better hear what it is.” Jacob stood and said, “We’ll finish this discussion after I’ve chatted with him.”
“Should I accompany you? You don’t suppose he’s come to borrow money, do you? Or to request a favor? We could present a united front to dissuade him.”
Jacob scoffed. “Caleb owns a gambling club in London, so he’s rich and very powerful. I doubt he’s seeking a loan or a favor.” Jacob extended the audit report. “Would you like to review this while I’m talking to him?”
“I’m not hale enough. I’ll have to study it later.”
Kit was looking more sickly by the second, and Jacob said, “You should head for your bed. Can you make it on your own? Or should I summon a servant to assist you?”
“I can make it on my own.”
Kit’s injury had rendered him more churlish than usual. He pushed himself to his feet and limped out. Jacob trailed after him, watching until he lurched around a corner.
He wondered if Kit was telling the truth about how he’d hurt himself. He was in genuine pain, but it might have been caused by any ominous mishap. For all Jacob knew, he’d been shot by a jealous husband.
He put Kit out of his mind and went in the other direction. Evidently, his brother had strolled in bold as brass. Jacob had seen him earlier in the summer. Initially, their conversation had been stilted, but they’d gradually gotten the hang of it. Still though, they weren’t chums, so why had he arrived?
He wound through the house until he approached the library. The butler was hovering in the hall, appearing anxious, as if he might be scolded for allowing the rogue to enter.
The man straightened and said, “It’s your half-brother, Mr. Caleb Ralston
, Captain.”
“I hope you poured him a whiskey.”
“I have.”
“Then that will be all.”
Jacob marched on, but Roxanne blustered toward him.
“I just learned about our visitor,” she said. “Shall I serve as your hostess?”
“No, thank you. I don’t need a hostess.”
His response was more abrupt than he’d intended, but since he’d returned from Scotland, he couldn’t deduce how to handle her. She was constantly underfoot, eager to have him recollect the reason she was in the manor.
She hadn’t departed for London as she’d threatened, and she’d grown overly sweet and solicitous, as if she was trying to hold onto him by pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Unfortunately for her, he couldn’t forget what she was really like: icy, disdainful, posh, extravagant.
As with Kit, he had to devise a solution for her. Once he declared the engagement to be over, what would become of her? Was her fate his problem?
He couldn’t decide, and with Caleb inside the ostentatious room, he wouldn’t fret about her. He closed the door in her curious face.
Caleb was over by the sideboard, refilling his glass, and Jacob said, “Caleb Ralston! When you were announced, I couldn’t believe my ears.”
“Hello, big brother.”
It was a jest of sorts. They were the same age, and Jacob was a few months older than Caleb, proving their father had been an immoral dog.
Caleb tipped his glass in welcome, and Jacob walked over and poured his own drink. He motioned to the desk. “Let’s sit. Shall I bring the decanter? Will we have to keep ourselves fortified?”
“That depends on how you answer my questions.”
“Has a calamitous situation arisen?”
“We’ll see, I guess.”
Jacob sat behind the desk, and Caleb pulled up the chair across. Jacob wanted to wait silently for Caleb to begin, but he was too bewildered.
“What could have dragged you here?” he asked.
“I should probably start by saying I’m surprised to find you in England.”
“Why would you be? I’m home on furlough until the end of September.”
“It’s what you told me that evening in London, but I was praying you’d left.”
It was an odd remark. “Why would you pray for that?”
“Because—since you’re at Ralston Place—this will be a tad difficult.”
“You’re speaking in riddles.”
“First off, I have a message from Luke Watson.”
“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with him. How’s he been?”
“He’s good. In fact, he’s better than good.”
“I’ve haven’t talked to him recently. What’s occupying his time?”
“I’m predicting this will astonish you—it certainly astonished me—but he’s marrying in a few days.”
“You’re joking! Who is his bride?”
“I don’t mean to shock you, but it’s Libby Carstairs.”
As far as Jacob was aware, there was only one woman in the world with that name. “Are you referring to Libby Carstairs, as in, The Mystery Girl of the Caribbean?”
“The very one.”
“How did that happen?”
“I’ll let them tell you about it.” Caleb reached in his coat and drew out an envelope that had a gold border. He laid it on the desk. “You’re invited to the wedding, and I should apprise you that the entire kingdom is begging for an invitation, so you’re incredibly fortunate.”
“I’m flattered and stunned.”
“I’m marrying too, as soon as I can haul my sorry behind back to Barrett.”
“What? I just saw you in London. You didn’t mention it.”
“It occurred rather fast.”
Caleb’s cheeks heated, providing evidence that he’d misbehaved with his fiancée.
“Who is the lucky girl?” Jacob asked.
“It’s Caroline Grey.”
The name was familiar, and Jacob scowled. “I should know her, shouldn’t I?”
“She is one of the three Lost Girls who was rescued by Father with Miss Carstairs.”
Jacob gasped. “You are marrying one of them?”
“Yes, and Caroline will be delighted to clarify how it transpired. I’d be too embarrassed to explain it myself.”
“I’m . . . floored. Will I sound deranged if I state that I’ve felt Father’s ghost hovering all summer? Might he be bringing us together? Is he making sure we bond with those girls for some reason?”
“You won’t sound deranged for thinking that. I’ve suffered the same impression this summer too.”
“I’ve met the third girl. Joanna James?”
Caleb grinned. “Now we get to the real purpose of my visit.”
“You’re here about Joanna? Where is she? She was living in my woods, but her cottage burned down, and she vanished. We’ve been searching for her, and I’ve been frantic with worry.”
“Have you been?”
Caleb looked dubious, and Jacob said, “Ah . . . yes? I’ve been very worried.”
Caleb grabbed the decanter and filled both their glasses. He sipped his whiskey and studied Jacob over the rim.
“I started this discussion,” Caleb said, “by declaring myself surprised to find you in England.”
“Why is that?”
“It seems that your alleged friend and estate agent, Kit Boswell, told Joanna you had been recalled to duty. Apparently, you fled in a hurry, and he had no idea when you’d be back in the country.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. Why would Kit even have been talking to her?”
“Not only did he talk to her, but he claimed that he’d decided to level her cottage and clear the meadow where it was located.”
“He . . . what?”
Caleb motioned to Jacob’s glass and said, “Drink up, Brother. This story goes downhill from here.”
“Were you able to listen in?”
“No. Jacob shut the door in my face.”
Roxanne was in the bedchamber in the manor that Kit had commandeered for his own use. He was limping and too wretched to walk over to his own home, which was a huge indicator of his deteriorated condition.
Jacob was down in the library, having a private chat with his half-brother, and Roxanne was aggravated. She didn’t like a single incident to occur in the mansion without her gleaning every detail.
“What could he want?” she asked Kit.
“How would I bloody know?”
“I don’t like him showing up like this.”
“As if I care.”
Kit was seated on a chair, the leg of his trouser rolled up to reveal his calf. A bandage was wrapped around the wound, and he was slowly unwinding it.
Once it was free, he said, “What is your opinion? It’s looks hideous to me.”
“I agree. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s definitely infected, and it would be nice if you could exhibit some sympathy. I received it because of you.”
“Me! Why would it be my fault? You’re mad to blame me.”
He’d warned Miss James that men would arrive to level her cottage, but he’d been lying. He hadn’t intended to bring any men, for he and Roxanne couldn’t have had any witnesses to her eviction.
She’d simply had to go without delay, so he’d snuck over in the middle of the night, the plan being to light a small blaze that would get her moving. She was precisely the sort of obnoxious snot who would have tarried forever, and they’d needed her to vanish while Jacob was in Scotland.
But as Kit had tiptoed toward the rear of the house, merely to set the grass on fire, Miss James’s dog had rushed up and delivered a furious bite that had torn his trousers and left a deep gash. In a panic, Kit had hurled his tor
ch—through a window! He swore it was an accident, but as a result, the entire building had burned to the ground.
After a teamster had reported the inferno, Kit had acted concerned and had had some men search the rubble. Miss James and her niece’s remains weren’t there, so they’d escaped, but if they’d perished, Roxanne wouldn’t necessarily have mourned.
Kit’s injury was swollen and inflamed, the dog’s teeth marks clear, and Roxanne wondered if it might kill him in the end. She wrenched her gaze away. She wasn’t a nurse, and she wouldn’t pretend to be.
“Where do you suppose the little trollop is?” she asked.
“I have no idea, but Jacob is hunting for her everywhere.”
“I’m betting she took your threat to heart. I’m picturing her on the other side of England.”
“You better hope so. If he finds her, there’s no predicting how angry he’ll be.”
“I know, Kit. I know. Don’t lecture me.”
Their conversation might have erupted into a full-blown quarrel, but a housemaid stopped out in the hall.
“There you are, Miss Ralston,” she said. “The Captain needs you in the library.”
“I’ll be right there.” She couldn’t imagine what the servants would think of her being in Kit’s bedchamber, and she waved at his leg for her excuse. “Mr. Boswell has cut himself, and he had me check it for him. It’s very bad, so would you have the housekeeper send up an ointment?”
“I will, Miss.”
The girl glanced furtively at Kit, then she flitted off, no doubt to hurry down to the kitchen and gossip about what she’d observed.
“What could Jacob want?” Kit asked.
“Maybe he’s decided to introduce me to the high-and-mighty, Caleb Ralston.”
“He owns a gambling business in London, so he’s much richer than Jacob, and you’re such a mercenary. You might like him more than your fiancé.”
Roxanne didn’t reply to the taunt. “Good luck with your leg. It would be terrible if you had to have it amputated.”
As she strutted out, he muttered, “Castrating bitch.”
She grinned and marched down the stairs. She hadn’t been joking about his condition growing dire. When she thought of that dog’s teeth puncturing his skin, she shivered with distaste. Who could guess what disease the animal might have planted?
