The Cynfell Brothers

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The Cynfell Brothers Page 73

by Samantha Holt


  However, the sound of a door opening eased her fear. She had been right. He was looking in her bedroom. She quickly peered around the corner to see that, sure enough, her bedroom door was open.

  Before he could emerge and catch her, she hastened downstairs. She had to find Gideon, had to tell him she knew the truth. Not to mention thank him for saving her life.

  A crowd of guests surrounded her when she entered the drawing room. She tried to be gracious but how could she be patient and thankful for all their kind words when her fiancé was searching her room for stolen jewels?

  Her gaze latched onto Gideon. He looked a little tousled from the late night and his eyes were ringed with shadows, but he still made her breath catch. His gaze locked onto hers and they shared a smile. After accepting more comments on how glad everyone was she was safe and wasn’t it a dramatic incident and goodness could it not have been so much worse, she made her way over to him.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little tired, but well, thanks to you.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “It was just lucky I was there.”

  She smiled. “Was it?”

  “Well, I won’t lie. I had thought you were awake and was hoping to speak with you.”

  “About what?”

  He smirked. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Well, this does.” She snatched his arm and dragged him into the adjoining study. Shutting the door firmly, she kept her back pressed to it.

  A brow raised. “What’s going on, Cleo?”

  “You were right,” she hissed.

  “Right?”

  “About Niall. You were right.” She pulled out the bracelet. “He dropped this last night. Mrs. Feltridge was wearing it so he must have taken it straight off her wrist! And there was little chance she was in my bedroom.”

  He took the bracelet and eyed it. “It will be worth a small fortune. I wonder if he has taken anything else.”

  “I imagine we shall find out soon enough.” She reached out and pressed a hand to his arm. “I am sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  Gideon turned over the bracelet in his hand. “I know it was far-fetched.”

  She peered at him. “Did you really apologise to him yesterday? Mama said you two made up.”

  He chuckled. “Of course not. I threatened him.”

  “Dear Lord, Gideon, he knows you know?”

  He nodded. “And, unfortunately, my threat had little effect. I have no proof.”

  “How did you find out anyway?”

  “My—St. Clair told me. He has a few friends in the jewellery trade and accidentally ended up mixed in it.”

  “Can he not go to the bobbies?”

  “Harpy’s too smart for that. He’s covered his back.”

  “So what can we do? I cannot very well marry a jewel thief!”

  “No, you cannot,” he said determinedly. “We’ll find a way to reveal the truth, never fear.” His gaze softened on her. “Cleo, I would steal you away before consigning you to that sort of fate.”

  The words left her a little breathless. “You would?”

  “Absolutely. But it shan’t come to that. We shall disentangle you from him with your reputation entirely intact.” He clutched the jewels. “Do you mind if I keep these?”

  “No, but Mrs. Feltridge will notice they are gone soon enough. Should we not return them?”

  “I shall, but I don’t want you to. Harper might suspect you know if you do. I can simply claim I found them on the floor somewhere.”

  “So I should just pretend I know nothing?”

  Gideon grimaced. “I am afraid so.” He grasped her arms and tugged her close. “Cleo, we’re dealing with a man addled out of his wits. A man who thinks himself above reproach. I fear for your safety being near him but even more so if he understood you knew the truth. You must pretend all is well. Just for now.”

  She nodded vigorously. Gideon was right, he had to be insane surely to be able to carry off such a charade? To hide his true self this whole time?

  “We will uncover this, Cleo. Together, we’ll reveal him for who he is and save you from marrying him. I promise.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What have you told your parents?”

  Cleo gave Gideon a smug smile. “They think that I am riding over to see Miss Mary Dudley. I’ve told them I shall be gone for the whole day.”

  He eased his horse into a trot as they approached a steep slope. They had witnessed a little rainfall overnight and the ground was still slick and muddy. As much as he had enjoyed rescuing Cleo from the mud, he had no intention of sending her home covered in filth.

  “I’m glad you were able to sneak away.”

  She blew out a breath. “It is getting increasingly hard. Niall is visiting constantly, and every day it seems we are tackling wedding plans.” Her face darkened. “We’ve set a date you know.”

  “I had heard,” he said tightly.

  “I only have two weeks, Gideon. Two weeks and I shall be stuck with a jewel thief forever.”

  “Perhaps you should just tell your parents everything.” He had tried to persuade her to tell them the truth via his letters but to no avail. He could hardly blame her, though. After all, it had taken real evidence for her to believe him.

  “They will never believe me.” She sighed again. “Mama will be so disappointed when she finds out the truth. But we must reveal him. We must.”

  “And we will,” he assured her.

  They stopped, and Gideon dismounted to open the large gate at the end of the field. He ushered Cleo through and found himself admiring her. The fresh air always suited her, bringing out a natural redness to her cheeks. This was how he always liked to think of her. Well, at least since his revelation.

  He had spent the past week—when he was not trekking around jewellery shops and meeting with investigators—thinking of Cleo and their every moment together.

  Most of his thoughts centred around the times they’d been out of doors together, playing in the fields or as they aged, simply taking strolls together. There was something to say for country living when it allowed male and female friends to still spend time together.

  However, just because country parenting tended to be more relaxed, did not mean they could be seen together now—not since Cleo was engaged. As much as he wanted this engagement broken, he did not want to bring scandal to her doorstep.

  He would protect Cleo from it all if he could. Scandal, heartbreak, danger. He’d never really understood these overly dramatic men in books and plays that would do anything for a woman until now.

  He closed the gate and remounted. They followed the quiet country lane up toward Grandfield House where St. Clair resided. It was his hope, as he had explained to Cleo, that they would be able to find out more from St. Clair today without having to have whispered discussions in the corner. Also, St. Clair had been running his own investigations, so he was hopeful he might have come up with something.

  His father, it seemed, had become determined to help him. He could not fathom why he had decided to take some role in his life now, but he would not complain about the help. If anyone would know how to put Harper in the frame, it was St. Clair.

  The tall chimneys of the house peeked through the trees at the end of the lane. Bright yellow daffodils lined the way, waving gently as though greeting them as they passed by. Gideon dismounted again to push open the wrought iron gates.

  “Do you really think he will help us?” she asked while they trotted up the pathway to the house.

  “Yes. He wants to see Harper pay just as much as we do.”

  “I hope so.”

  He didn’t mention St. Clair had an additional reason to help him. Part of him felt mildly uncomfortable lying to Cleo. Indeed, he had always felt uncomfortable knowing the truth of his birth when no one else did. He felt a fraud, an outsider. Most days he wished he had remained in ignorance.

  St. Clair was already waiting at the top of the steps when they arrived.
He waved them in once the stable hands had taken their horses and ushered them into a masculine drawing room. Dark wood panelling covered the walls and generous wingback chairs occupied most of the space. A few hunting trophies were mounted alongside portraits of darkened scenery—the paintings no doubt discoloured by age.

  It suddenly struck Gideon as odd that he had never stepped foot in Grandfield despite their connection and the strong friendship between the families. But, of course, he had always avoided any chance to visit.

  “I’m glad the rain held away for you,” St. Clair said. “I hope summer shall arrive soon. We could do with some proper sunshine.”

  Cleo smiled. “Even an English summer isn’t a promise of sunshine, Lord St. Clair.”

  “You are right, indeed.” He grinned broadly. “You always were a clever little thing, Miss Talbot.” He motioned to the chairs and tugged on a bell rope. “Shall we?”

  Gideon sat next to Cleo on the tall red sofa. The wings and back were such that it forced the occupants to feel as though they were tucked in their own private world. The desire to reach over and take Cleo’s hand was immense.

  He twined his fingers together and placed them in his lap.

  “So have you had any luck, Gideon? You said you went to London?”

  “Yes, I spoke with several dealers there but none knew of Harper.”

  “I feared as much. I suspect once we crossed paths he moved his operations away for fear of being caught.”

  “So he could be selling the jewels anywhere?” Cleo asked.

  “Indeed. Anywhere there’s a market for them. Or he even has a new partner dealing with it for him.” St. Clair shook his head. “He’s a slippery character I’m afraid, Miss Talbot. He shall not be that easy to pin down.”

  She glanced at Gideon, unease in her gaze.

  “They’ve set a wedding date,” Gideon announced. “Two weeks.”

  St. Clair glanced at Gideon. “Does she know?”

  “About what?” Cleo asked.

  Gideon shook his head.

  “I think perhaps we must make it public knowledge,” his father said.

  “Make what public knowledge?” she demanded.

  Nodding, Gideon leaned forward. “If everyone knows, Harper will have nothing against us. We can go to the bobbies and hope they do not believe that you were involved.”

  “Knows what?” Cleo’s voice grew high-pitched. “Gideon, whatever are you talking about?”

  He turned to face Cleo. “You will be the only person to know this aside from Lord St. Clair, my mother, myself, and Niall Harper.”

  Her eyes were wide as she nodded.

  “Gideon is my son,” St. Clair announced.

  Her brows lifted. She darted a look between them. “In truth?”

  Gideon nodded. “I have known for some time.”

  “But...but...” She swung a finger between them. “You’re his son? And you are his father?”

  St. Clair nodded. “Yes.”

  “How does Niall know this?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.” St. Clair shrugged. “But he has been using the knowledge against me knowing I would not want to bring scandal to Gideon and his mother.”

  “And your brothers do not know?”

  “No, they do not,” Gideon said grimly.

  And he did not relish the thought of them finding out the truth. Would they treat him differently? They would not discard him, he knew that much, but the understanding that he was not a Cynfell had affected him for most of his adult life. How could he expect them not to see him differently?

  However, if it meant Cleo would be safe and Harper would be behind bars, he would take whatever fallout there was from these revelations.

  She blinked at him. “So you wish to reveal this before Niall does? For me?”

  “He’s a criminal, Miss Talbot. He deserves punishment.”

  Cleo shook her head. “But at what cost? Your mother will never survive the scandal!”

  Gideon waved a hand. “She is a strong woman; she’ll be fine.”

  “But she’ll lose her friends, her standing. It is all very well for you men, scandal hardly touches you.”

  “What are you saying, Cleo?” Gideon asked.

  “You cannot reveal this secret. Not yet. Please. I could never forgive myself if you all suffered because of me.”

  “So we are to just stand by and watch you be married off to a criminal?” Gideon asked.

  “I hope not.” She grimaced. “We must find more evidence. If he has worked with Lord St. Clair, he must have worked with other people. Please let us try to find something else.”

  He glanced at his father who shrugged. “Very well. We shall see what we can do. But if we have no luck, we may have no other choice.”

  “If we have nothing on him two days before the wedding then we shall consider it,” she announced.

  Gideon chuckled. Trust Cleo to be directing them all about.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time Cleo arrived back at Chetwyn, dusk began to spread its murky fingers across the hills. A little fog coated the ground and whirled in protest as she sliced her way through it on horseback. She eased the horse to a trot when she spied a familiar figure. Her stomach tightened itself into knots.

  After all that she had discovered today, after truly understanding how manipulative her fiancé was, the last thing she wanted to do was face him.

  Somehow, she managed to force on a welcoming smile. For Gideon and his father’s sake, she would continue to appear the dutiful fiancée. Until they had proof of his dealings. She only prayed that happened before the wedding or else she would have to do something drastic. But Gideon had assured her he would not let it take place, and she believed him.

  Harper smiled brightly when he spotted her. The knot in her stomach bunched tighter. Easing the horse to a stop, she allowed him to help her down, and prayed she hid the grimace his touch caused.

  “What are you doing here, Niall?”

  “Is a fiancé not allowed to visit his betrothed?”

  She smiled genially. “No, of course. But I was not expecting you today.”

  “I had hoped to surprise you. Your father said you were visiting with a friend.”

  “Oh...yes, um, Beatrix...”

  “Did you have a pleasant time?”

  “Oh yes, quite pleasant.”

  She peered around him in the hope her mother might have emerged from the house. The skies were darkening quickly and the vanishing light added a horribly sinister tone to his face. Or perhaps it was her imagination because of what she now knew. Here was a man capable of theft, blackmail, and a vastly tangled web of lies. At what point, she could not help wonder, had the Niall Harper they knew, given way to the act? She could not help looking back over their acquaintance and trying to decide.

  But the fact was there was no understanding such a man. Once he had been an innocent young boy, she was certain of that. Whatever had happened to him in life to change that, she could not be sure, but she knew one thing—she could not marry the man he had become.

  “How did you spend your time?”

  Her breath caught a little in her throat. Was he quizzing her? Was there distrust there or was this a manifestation of her knowledge of him?

  “Oh you know. A little gossip, a gentle stroll. That sort of thing.”

  “Well, I am glad you had a fine time. You were lucky to have seen her. I had heard from her father that she was in London at present.”

  Cleo felt herself pale, felt the blood vanish from her body. “Oh she was. Yes. But she returned briefly, and we decided to make the most of it. She is quite a dear friend, you see.” Oh Lord she was rambling. She never had been good at lying. “I’m sure she shall be heading straight back to London. The season takes some time to prepare for, does it not?”

  “It does indeed.” His gaze zeroed in on her. She felt his scrutiny, as though he was searching deep inside her for her lies or even managing to read her mind. “Althoug
h I think a wedding is more work. I hope your Mama does not mind your absences whilst she helps get everything ready.”

  Was there a threat there? She stared into his usually insipid eyes. There was a hardness she had never spotted before. A tiny thread of horror wrapped itself about her insides and pulled them tighter. “Mama is quite efficient. I think she prefers me out from under her feet but I am helping where I can.”

  The words came out more defensively than they should. She knew now that this is what he would expect from her when they married—to account for her whereabouts at all times. And to think she had expected they would have a distant sort of marriage. That had been her fear? Her assumptions had been so very wrong. Why had she ever let herself be coerced into a yes?

  “I am glad you are helping her, Cleo.” He took her hand in his. She let it sit there limply whilst she tried to prevent any sign of disgust revealing itself on her face. “I am counting down the days until we are married.”

  His expression altered so suddenly that she felt like she was standing in front of a different person. The hardness and suspicion vanished.

  “I always thought we were intended for each other, even as a young boy. We shared so many interests, how could we not be?”

  “Yes,” she murmured weakly.

  “You always were the kindest girl. I enjoyed my time with you very much. I am looking forward to spending the rest of my years with you.”

  “I—” He was looking for some kind of confirmation from her that she felt the same, but what could she possibly say that he would not hear the lie in? “I am flattered you think of me that way.”

  “There is no need for modesty, my dearest. I hope you shall not be so bashful with your feelings once we are married.”

  She tried for a smile, but it tightened on her face. “I am sure things shall change vastly once we are married.”

  He grinned. “They shall indeed. I am in anticipation of the day I can call you my wife.” Niall glanced up at the darkening skies. “I must make haste, it is getting late. I am glad I was able to catch you, even if briefly. Shall I call on you tomorrow?”

 

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