The Purloined Papers
Page 22
Peter shrugged. “I mentioned it when he pressed me for payment. It was the last thing of value in the house.”
“And thus put my life in jeopardy. Fortunately I was at Seabrook when he ransacked Moorside.” The footmen moved behind Ashley, blocking any escape.
“Lies,” Ashley snapped. “You can’t prove any of them.”
“Can’t I?” She whipped the shawl from her neck. “You were right to look for the jewelry casket. The letters were inside. When I caught Truitt searching my room for them, he tried to kill me.”
Peter’s jaw hung open.
Rockhurst shifted closer to Ashley.
Andrew smiled grimly. “The letters are now in good hands.”
Ashley blanched.
Chloe nodded. “The game is over, Ashley. And you will pay for every crime, especially killing my father.”
“I had nothing to do with his death.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?” she demanded sharply.
“It’s the truth. If anyone has a complaint, it is me. He bashed me with a poker.”
Peter edged away even as Rockhurst stepped closer.
“I am not a violent man,” Ashley insisted. “Yes, I went to Fields House to demand that Sir Nigel return property that he stole, but that was my only visit. He tricked me by claiming he’d hidden it behind a brick. I made the mistake of stepping closer to see what was taking so long. That’s when he hit me. His attack put me in bed for days. And I had nothing to do with Peter’s misfortune.”
“Save the explanation for court,” advised Andrew. “You and Truitt can argue the blame there. He is already under arrest. Now it is your turn.”
Before Ashley could react, the footmen grabbed him. When Ashley lashed out with a foot, Rockhurst punched him in the stomach. Ashley sagged.
“Into the library,” ordered Andrew, nodding to the adjacent wing. “Then summon Lord Rankin – quietly. He is handling the case.”
Rockhurst accompanied them, leaving Chloe, Peter, and Andrew behind.
“Go home, Peter,” said Chloe softly. “Set your house in order. But don’t bother me again.”
“How?” he demanded. His voice broke. “I haven’t a shilling to my name. I owe him more than Fields House is worth.”
“I doubt it.” Andrew herded Peter toward the garden. “Ashley can never collect. Even if he escapes the scaffold, he will spend the rest of his life in Botany Bay. And the games were probably rigged. He wanted you in his debt and didn’t care how he managed it. You were his insurance against Sir Nigel’s demands, just as Chloe was going to be his insurance against yours. He didn’t want to make a second attempt on your life.”
Peter frowned, but didn’t deny it.
“Good-bye, Peter,” said Chloe. “Perhaps one day we will meet again, but I wouldn’t count on it. I’ll not forgive you for selling me like a painting or an old chair.”
Peter opened his mouth, but Andrew stopped him. “Go home, Sir Peter. Let your wounds heal. Learn about estate management. Consult a book dealer, for some of Kevin’s volumes might be valuable. Use your one decent investment to help your tenants. If you stay away from the tables, you can survive.”
Peter shook his head as if surfacing from sleep. Shrugging, he headed for the stables.
Chloe watched him disappear around the corner. Loneliness suddenly overwhelmed her.
* * *
Chapter 14
Left alone with Andrew, Chloe succumbed to tremors as the various shocks finally registered. Jacob Ashley, a man she had never heard of before today, had destroyed her family – precipitating the flight that had killed her father, draining the last of the family’s resources, setting fire to Peter and the house. Had he also set up fraudulent investments that had trapped her father? He’d been flouting the law for at least a decade, always seeking to enhance his fortune. Sir Nigel would have been an easy target.
Her foot tripped over a step. Blinking, she realized that Andrew was escorting her into the family wing. His arm steered her into the morning room, where he closed the door.
“Don’t bother, Andrew,” she protested as he picked up the tinderbox. “I’m going upstairs. You should return to your guests.” She needed time alone to regain her composure. Though she’d welcomed his appearance in the ballroom, his touch had again scrambled her senses. Unless she broke the spell, leaving would be impossible.
Andrew shook his head. “William doesn’t need me at the moment, and I’ve no wish to be interrogated. Besides, we need to talk. We have matters to settle.”
“What matters?” But she knew. He had always been too impetuous for his own good and too honorable to back down even when he’d talked himself into an impossible corner. “You needn’t fear I’ll hold you to rash statements, Andrew. You were only confounding Peter until you could draw him from the ballroom.”
“Untrue. I meant every word.”
“No one heard you, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t be naïve. People may have backed away from the confrontation, but every ear in the ballroom was straining to hear us. By now everyone in the house will know you accepted my hand.”
“Even though I didn’t.”
His face darkened. “What else could I have done, Chloe?” He pressed his temples as if they hurt. “Peter ignored your protests. Would you have clawed and scratched and screamed the roof down at William’s ball? Nothing less would have stopped him, and he might have dragged you off anyway. Debauching you would make Barry insist you wed the devil himself.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn’t utter a word. He was right. She could never have fought hard enough to escape. The scandal would have ruined her, especially after Laura’s accusations. And William already faced too many problems. How could she embarrass him further?
Peter must have known. Why else would he have confronted her so publicly? She had a long history of meek obedience – giving up teaching, seeking a husband though her heart belonged to Andrew, accepting her father’s vow that all would be well. The only time she’d ever stood up to him had been over working for Laura, and William had done most of the persuading.
So by presenting Ashley as her betrothed in front of local society, he’d expected her to docilely accept her fate.
But that didn’t excuse Andrew’s lies. “I could have escaped Ashley,” she declared. “The man is a criminal.”
“But I didn’t know who he was. Nor did you,” he reminded her grimly. “His arrest would have saved you, but neither of us could have predicted that. I won’t apologize for protecting you.”
“So protection means forcing me into marriage so I won’t be at Peter’s mercy.” She barely kept her voice steady. Marrying Andrew was her fondest dream, but not unless he truly wanted it. And she could not face a hurried marriage followed by years of separation. Would he even have time to arrange it before leaving? Perhaps he thought a betrothal would be enough to keep her safe.
Or maybe he would insist on marriage. His impending departure made such a gesture easy. He could protect her with his name without facing the consequences. Guilt over Kevin’s death and Laura’s abuse had convinced him that he was duty-bound to protect her. But he wouldn’t have to live with the result. He could park her at Seabrook and leave, turning her into an unwanted cipher in William’s household.
She couldn’t accept.
Peter would be regretting his actions by now. She could use his period of guilt to escape Devonshire and establish herself as a war widow where no one could find her. Never again would she allow fantasies of Andrew to intrude on her real life. She would not wind up like Laura, alone, reviled, and miserable because she clung to impossible dreams instead of making the most of her life.
Andrew paced the room. “I know he’s your brother, Chloe, but he’s also a gamester. I doubt you understand how unscrupulous such men can be. It is like a sickness. Even those who try to stop find that they cannot. And when the inevitable losses pile up, they will commit any dishonor to cover the
ir vowels. Offering your hand as a wager was not an isolated event. He might be glad that this debt is settled, and he might swear he’s learned his lesson. But when his back is against the wall, he will do it again. The only way to protect yourself is to wed me.”
“Not the only way,” she insisted. “Peter won’t know where to find me. By the time he runs through the money from Lord Grayson’s shipping venture, I will have disappeared.”
“He could lose it all tomorrow merely by pledging the shares, Chloe.”
“But he won’t. His burns have to be agonizing – I can’t believe how awful he looked tonight. And marriage may have been Ashley’s idea to prevent Peter from using those letters. Peter will pass at least a fortnight mired in guilt for what he tried to do. By then I will be gone.”
Andrew stifled the pain that choked him with each new objection. Granted, he hadn’t handled any of this with aplomb, thanks to Peter’s unexpected attack. But he hadn’t expected her to fight him. They were friends. She’d responded to his kisses. Marriage was the perfect answer – especially since he could finally support her in style. He’d meant to tell her about his change of fortune and begin a serious courtship. He’d hoped that she would admit that her love remained, so he could propose tonight. So why was she making it so difficult?
“Chloe—” He stopped to steady his temper. “If you refuse marriage, everyone in the that ballroom will consider you a jilt. How long would that on-dit stay secret? I doubt many mamas would want their daughters taking lessons from someone with a tarnished reputation.”
She blanched, but her jaw thrust out as it did whenever she tried to best one of the boys. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll change my name and claim to be a widow. I won’t force you into marriage.”
Andrew cursed. Life without Chloe stretched barrenly before him. But he refused to accept defeat. They could build a comfortable partnership even if she never returned his love. But he would never know a moment’s peace while she remained at Peter’s mercy. “You don’t understand, Chloe. Yes, widowhood would offer greater freedom, but it would also attract danger. Rakes and rogues expect a widow to be free with her favors, and often don’t care whether she is willing.”
“Wives have the same problem, particularly if their husbands are not in evidence,” she countered.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Your leg is recovered, Andrew. Everyone knows it, including your regiment. They ordered you to India.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Sally. It is common knowledge in the servants’ hall.”
“Ah. I’ve been too busy to discuss my decision with Jinks.” He shook his head. “While it’s true that the regiment wants everyone back before leaving, I’m not going. I resigned my commission last week.”
“You can’t.” She met his startled gaze. “Andrew, you cannot abandon your career just because you think Kevin wanted you to protect me.”
“I didn’t,” he protested, then snapped his mouth shut. Taking a deep breath, he softened his tone. “Sit down, Chloe. Peter’s announcement threw me off balance. I’ve made a worse hash of this than I thought. Let’s start over.”
“If it will bring you to your senses, then we should certainly start over.” She settled into a chair.
He moved a second chair so he could face her. “Resigning was not a sudden decision. Nor does it have anything to do with you or Kevin. I would have sold out last winter if Napoleon hadn’t escaped. That’s when I began seriously considering the future. With Wellington in command, I could balance the horror of war with the knowledge that our cause was just, our leaders competent, and victory certain in the end. But the American campaign was put in the hands of an inept admiral who lacked Wellington’s high purpose, allowing a personal grievance to distort his thinking.”
“How?”
“The idiot bypassed military targets in favor of retaliation, sacrificing any hope of victory. The day we received orders to burn the American capital was the day I realized I could no longer remain at the mercy of people I could not respect. Wellington would never have been so stupid.”
“But surely the capital was a legitimate target,” she protested.
“No. It was a handful of buildings constructed in a swamp and of no military value at all. It made a powerful symbol, though. In fact, our actions that night united the American people as they had not been in the entire two years of that war. The debate had become so distracting that their army – if you could call it that – was no longer effective. But after we burned Washington, all argument ceased. Their determination to throw us out, when combined with their unorthodox fighting methods, made our defeat inevitable. I knew I must resign my commission. War had sucked out my soul, leaving only an empty shell behind.” His sense of duty had prevented him from seeing so clearly at the time – he’d reacted with fury and curses rather than logical thinking – but he now recognized that fundamental change of heart.
“Yet you stayed to fight Napoleon.”
He nodded. “That fight was necessary. And it was unfinished business. We made a mistake after his abdication, offering mercy and expecting honor when he had shown neither toward any opponent. Now that he is truly gone, I can resign in good conscience. Your situation has nothing to do with the decision. I have thought deeply on this for months and mailed my resignation last week.”
She couldn’t stop joy from flooding her breast. Not that she could accept his offer, but at least he would no longer face danger. “What will you do now?”
“You needn’t fret. I can support you well enough.”
“I can support myself, sir.”
He doubted it, but this wasn’t the time to start a new argument. “That isn’t my point, Chloe.”
“Your point is that I should accept a statement you made in the heat of the moment, even though marriage would make us both miserable.”
“Chloe!”
“Be quiet. I listened to you. Now you can accord me the same courtesy.”
He nodded, though every instinct urged him to smother her words with kisses. Miserable, indeed. She melted every time he touched her. She’d clung to his side when Peter threatened her, and the welcome in her eyes had sent excitement clear to his toes.
But knowing her reasons might suggest a way to circumvent them. Wellington had often extolled the benefits of good intelligence. And Andrew was convinced she still cared.
She rose to pace the room. It was a habit dating to childhood and denoted how serious she was.
“Men seldom understand why they do things,” she said calmly, “which is why they so often regret decisions after the fact. Dozens of times I’ve watched Father and Peter lured into disaster because their opponents played on their weaknesses.”
“Not every man is as simpleminded as those two,” he snapped.
“I know. But we all have blind spots. For you it is Kevin.” Her raised hand prevented a response. “You cannot deny you feel guilt over his death. You admitted it last Sunday. But you didn’t understand Kevin’s weaknesses. He was a considerate brother and a wonderful friend, but he was also cowardly and dangerously impetuous – as when he bought colors. Laura didn’t force him into the army. Weakness did. There were no witnesses that day. You and Father were the only others who knew what happened, and you knew only what he told you. Unless the incident was far more intimate than he claimed, there was no need to flee. All he had to do was stand up to her. If he’d looked her in the eye and promised to make her a laughingstock, she would have backed down.”
“You don’t understand how venal she can be,” said Andrew with a sigh.
“Don’t I? I lived with her for two years, Andrew. Day and night, with few distractions and no one to stand as buffer between us. I know more about her misdeeds than anyone, for she often fell into tirades against those she blamed for her woes – especially in the early days. I can read the truth well enough. Frankly, if Kevin had had a backbone, he would have survived even her worst claims.”
> “Why? Laura held the entire county in the palm of her hand.”
“No. Laura claimed she held the county in her hand. And it’s true that some men treated her like a goddess, starting with your father. She had your family so dazzled by her beauty that you believed every word she said. But there were many, many men who saw her clearly. If she’d accused Kevin of seduction, others would have revealed how she’d thrown herself at them, then threatened them when they refused – footmen, grooms, two tenants, and at least one gentleman. And those are just the ones I can name who predate Kevin. There are certainly others. If Kevin had stood up to her, she would have been ruined. But he was weak, so he fled, placing an impossible burden on you in the process. For a supposedly brilliant man, he had no sense at all.”
“He never asked anything of me,” said Andrew stiffly.
“Of course not. But he told you what Laura did, knowing that you would feel responsible. Think back. How many times did you atone for your siblings’ mistakes – fixing Lord Rankin’s wall after William pulled out those stones, sitting up all night to nurse a barn cat after Laura made it sick, taking the blame after Thomas broke a window. Now that I know the real story, I can see Kevin’s thinking clearly enough. You had protected him from bullies at school. You’d rescued him when his horses bolted the year he was fourteen. You saved everyone harmed by your family. Is it any wonder that he expected you to keep him safe and prevent Laura from further scheming? He probably thought you could arrange a London posting for him, but he knew nothing about the military.”
“He wasn’t that lacking.” But her words revived memories he’d shoved aside – Kevin’s shock that his uniforms were plain green rather than the red encrusted with gold braid he’d seen in London, his ignorance about the duties of different regiments, his surprise when they were ordered to Portugal….
“It no longer matters,” said Chloe, recalling his attention. “My point is that Kevin made mistakes and paid for them with his life. But it wasn’t your fault. You owe him nothing, Andrew. If anything, he owes you for the guilt he hung around your neck.”