by Cheryl Holt
“Not usually. I’ve only been obstinate since I met you.”
“I don’t believe that. I think you were always obstinate, and I’ve simply given you excuses to unleash it.”
There was quite a bit of truth to the statement, so she wouldn’t argue about it. Instead, she asked, “Will Blake be a good husband to her? Or will he make her miserable forever?”
“He’ll probably make her miserable forever, but she was delighted. That has to count for something, I suppose.”
“And your brother? What was his opinion?”
“He was a tad nauseous, but he spoke the vows and wrote his name on the license without my having to beat him bloody.”
Blake Ralston was a charming rogue who’d likely seduced women around the globe. He was a sailor, but he happened to have a very wealthy sibling. No doubt Caleb provided him with an allowance to supplement his wages, so Janet would never want for money, but Caroline suspected her cousin would frequently fret over exhausting issues like monogamy and adultery.
“Janet is my sister-in-law,” he said.
“So she is,” Caroline murmured, hating that it bound Caleb to her family when she wasn’t certain he should be bound to it.
“She’s heading to Gibraltar, to live at the British compound there, so she’ll see Blake when he’s in port.”
“I hope it works out for her. She had other goals for herself, but she’s ended up picking the most normal path of all.”
“It won’t kill her to be a wife and mother. There are worse conclusions.” He gestured to the sofa. “Would you please sit down? I have to explain some shocking news, and you should be sitting when you hear it.”
“I’ll try to bear up,” she sarcastically said.
“Yes, well, this might be more astonishing than you’re expecting.”
“Spit it out, Caleb. Stop being so irritating.”
“Fine. Here goes: After Janet’s wedding, she told me about her lawyer and the missing inheritance from her grandmother. It was an odd story, so Barrett and I investigated.”
She frowned. “Investigated what?”
“It turns out, Caroline Grey, that there is only one person in your family who ever had an inheritance.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s you. You are a great heiress.”
She cocked her head, thinking he might have babbled in a foreign language she didn’t understand. “I could swear you said I’m an heiress.”
“I did and you are.” He pointed to a nearby table that was strewn with documents. “I brought the papers that prove it.”
“What are you talking about? You could be speaking Chinese.”
“It seems, dear Caro, that your father once traveled to Africa with famed explorer, Sir Sidney Sinclair.”
“I know that.”
“While he was there, he became the proud owner of a diamond mine.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. When he died in the shipwreck, his ownership fell into a trust fund, with the assets belonging to you. Originally, your grandfather was the trustee, and he refused to spend any of it, but when the role passed to your uncle, he had no such reservations.”
“Uncle Samson has been spending my money?”
“Yes, Samson and Gregory. They were incredibly extravagant too.”
“Am I. . . I. . . beggared?”
He chuckled. “They tried their best, but no. You’re not beggared. You’re so rich; the diamonds keep being mined, and the money keeps flowing in.”
“I’m an heiress,” she muttered. “A mining heiress. . .”
“Yes.”
“Uncle Samson constantly joked about how poor I was. He used to tease me about it.”
“He was a lying, greedy fiend.”
Her mind was racing, struggling to process the information. “Is this why Gregory was so eager to marry me?”
“Yes. He needed to be in control of the trust as your husband, so if you ever found out about their mischief, you’d be his wife, and you wouldn’t be able to complain.”
“What about my Uncle Samson? Is that why he was pushing it?”
“Yes—that and the fact that you have another fund vesting on your birthday. You have to be wed by then, or you won’t receive it.”
He’d warned her to sit down before he began, and she’d declined, yet suddenly, her knees were weak. She staggered over to a chair and eased down. She gazed at the floor, her mind whirring at an even faster pace.
“They were. . . were. . . stealing from me!”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“They planned to continue forever, but to ensure I never learned of it.”
“You’ve just about covered it.”
Fury blazed through her. They’d ceaselessly and relentlessly made her feel beholden, as if she was a vagabond begging for alms. How dare they!
“I want to go to Grey’s Corner,” she fumed. “I want to confront them.”
“They aren’t there anymore. They’re in jail in London.”
She froze, keen to deduce if that was the correct ending. They’d behaved despicably, but they were her only kin besides Janet.
“Who had them arrested?” she asked.
“Lord Barrett and I decided on it, and before you lament over how you pity them or would like them released, you should be aware that it’s thousands and thousands of pounds.”
She simply couldn’t fathom such an amount belonging to her or that her uncle and cousin had frittered it away without her realizing. She’d thought it was family money, that it had been Grandfather Walter’s money. It’s what Uncle Samson had always claimed.
“Thousands and thousands?” she wanly said.
“Yes, and if it will help to stir your rage, Gregory has been supporting Lucretia Starling with it. He wasn’t the least bit ashamed about it either. He’s developed quite an affinity for your fortune, and he’d started to act as if it was his own.”
“What about Mrs. Starling?” Caroline asked. “Please tell me she’s in trouble too.”
“She’s in jail with them. We’ve seized the house they bought, and I’ve confiscated most of her jewels. All that I could find anyway in such a short period. We’re still searching.” He went to the table where the documents were stacked, and he grabbed a satchel off a chair. He brought it back and handed it too her. “Look at this.”
She was almost afraid to peek into it and was trembling so hard she could barely untie the ribbon on the front. When she finally managed to open it, she gasped. The pouch was full of necklaces, rings, and bracelets. There were even two tiaras, one that was studded with emeralds and one with diamonds.
He plucked out the one with diamonds and set it in her hair, fussing with it until it was balanced just right. She was too stunned to swat him away. She dawdled like a statue, too bewildered to protest.
“I never saw it on Mrs. Starling,” he said, “but I’m betting it’s much prettier on you.”
He was grinning, as if the situation was funny, but she didn’t deem it to be amusing in the slightest. She removed the tiara and scrutinized the gems, tracing her thumb over them, wondering how someone even shopped for such a thing. It was beyond her comprehension.
How had Gregory become involved with a woman who would relish such pricey trinkets? They’d been poor when they were children, living under her grandfather’s miserly thumb. What had changed him? The money? Or, deep down, had he always been greedy and corrupt?
The satchel slid off her lap, and she was too dumbfounded to reach for it. Caleb snatched it away, the tiara too, and placed them on the table. Then he leaned against the sideboard and stared at her from across the room.
“This is too bizarre to be true,” she ultimately said.
“I agree, except that it is true.”
�
��I’m speechless.”
“You could shake yourself out of your stupor and say, Thank you, Caleb.”
In a mocking tone, she repeated, “Thank you, Caleb.”
“You should exhibit more sincerity. I mean, let’s review what I’ve done for you the past week: I forced my brother to marry Janet. I unraveled the mystery of Janet’s nonexistent trust fund. I learned you are an heiress. I discovered the massive theft committed by your relatives. I yanked their fingers out of your accounts, so they can never steal from you again. I had them arrested, and I guarantee they’ll be prosecuted and receive appropriate sentences. And I evicted them from Grey’s Corner.”
“Who’s in charge at home?”
“Mrs. Scruggs is holding down the fort until you arrive to take charge.”
“Why would I take charge at Grey’s Corner?”
“Keep up with me, Caro.” He scoffed with exasperation. “Your grandfather mortgaged the property over and over, and after he died, your uncle used your trust fund to pay off the debts your grandfather had incurred.”
“The property is mine?”
“Probably. We have to work out the details, but Gregory and Samson can’t make a claim to it. It was your money that saved it from foreclosure.” He put a palm to his ear. “Was there a thank you in there somewhere? A genuine thank you? If so, I didn’t hear it.”
She smirked. “Yes. Thank you.”
She was completely befuddled, trying to absorb what he’d shared. She was rich. Grey’s Corner was hers. Her uncle and cousin were incarcerated. Everything she’d believed about herself, everything she’d ever been told, was a lie.
“Would you pinch me?” She extended her arm. “I need to be sure I’m not dreaming.”
“You’re not dreaming. This is really happening.”
“What now?” she asked. “How am I to handle all of this?”
“I have some ideas about it.”
She snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”
He poured himself another whiskey, and he sipped it, both of them quiet. He’d imparted a thousand wild facts that had altered every aspect of her life, but they hadn’t delved into any of the issues that separated them. He still owned a gambling club. He still helped men ruin themselves.
He was still the kind of scoundrel who would wager over a maiden’s virginity.
“You’re obscenely wealthy,” he eventually said, “so monumental changes are on the horizon for you.”
“I don’t necessarily concur. I’ll still be plain old Caroline Grey, from Grey’s Corner.”
“No, you’ll be heiress, Caroline Grey, a prosperous spinster who resides at her ostentatious manor in the country.”
She chuckled at that. “Who will know? I can’t exactly picture me strolling around the kingdom and blabbing it to people.”
“The news will leak out. This type of secret is difficult to keep. Especially if your uncle and cousin have a public trial. You’ll be in the newspapers, and I can see it now.” He gestured theatrically, as if reading a large headline. “‘Little Caro, Mystery Girl of the Caribbean, is an Heiress! Little Caro Betrayed by her Male Kin!’”
“I couldn’t bear to be in the newspapers. My first experience when I was five wasn’t all that thrilling.”
“You’re about to have suitors swarming.”
She sputtered with amusement. “I doubt that very much.”
“Every scapegrace, wastrel, and aristocrat’s son in the land will beat a path to your door.” He downed his drink and set the glass on the sideboard with a loud thud. “And that, Caro, is a situation I simply can’t permit.”
“What situation? Me, having suitors? You’re being even more ridiculous than usual.”
“Here is what we’re going to do.”
“What we are going to do?”
“Yes, and I won’t argue about it.”
He went over to the satchel, and he searched in it and pulled out a ring. He walked over and waved it under her nose. It was a modest piece of jewelry, a gold band with a pretty diamond in the center, and precisely the design she’d have selected for herself if given the opportunity.
“I didn’t think to bring one of my own,” he said, “so this one will have to satisfy you for the moment.”
She scowled. “What are you talking about?”
To her consternation, he dropped to a knee and clasped her hand. A man only placed himself in that position for one reason, and her scowl deepened. She was actually quite aghast.
“Are you about to propose?”
“Yes, so be silent and listen to me for once.”
“You’re awfully confident that you can persuade me, but we should review a few pertinent facts. Namely, that you asked me previously, and I decided I’m not interested.”
“Yes, but you were being absurd, so you don’t get to have an opinion about it.”
She tried to yank away, but he tightened his grip and wouldn’t release her. Before she realized what he intended, he’d slid the ring onto her finger. The blasted thing fit perfectly.
“We’ve been fighting,” she said, “and you’re being a bully.”
“We’re done fighting,” he ludicrously replied, “so how could I be bullying you?”
“I don’t want to marry you!”
She was shocked that the words had spilled out of her mouth. She wasn’t certain what she wanted and what she didn’t, but of course, the rude oaf ignored her.
“You’re dying to wed me,” he insisted. “You’ve been hoping for it from the minute we met.”
“If that’s what you assume, you’re insane. You run a gambling club! You destroy men’s lives for sport.”
“I repeat: I don’t ruin anybody. They’re all irresponsible wretches.”
“Fine, I stand corrected. You’re a veritable saint.”
He grinned his devil’s grin. “That’s more like it.”
“Don’t tease me, and don’t be flippant. My life is on the line over this.”
“So is mine, and you can’t deny me what I’m yearning to have.”
“And what is that?”
“You, you silly girl, so this is what I’m willing to do for you.”
“I’m on pins and needles waiting to hear.” Her tone was much too snide.
“I’m giving my business to Sybil. I’ll sign the whole enterprise over to her.”
She gasped. “You’ll. . . what?”
“I’ll give it away. It appears to be a sticking point for you, so I’ll relinquish it.”
“Why would you?”
“Can’t you guess? I swear, Caro, you are being an absolute dunce today. If that stupid club means I can’t have you as my wife, why bother with it?”
“It’s made you rich. It’s how you earn your income.”
“Yes, but I agree with you: It’s a foul profession. Sybil is much better at managing the dolts who are members. She can have it all, then I can have you.”
“If you get rid of it, you’ll be poor.”
“I was poor before I started it. It won’t kill me to be poor again. Besides, if I dispose of it, I can try my hand at something else.”
“What else?”
“I can glom onto you like the worst sort of fortune hunter and be a kept man. I’m actually looking forward to it.” He kissed the center of her palm. “Dearest Caroline, will you marry me?”
She blanched. “No.”
“That’s not the right answer. You might as well tell me you’ll have me. I won’t stop pestering you until you give me what I want.”
“You’re a committed bachelor.”
“Yes, I am, but I’m ready to change that situation.”
He had her trapped in the chair, and he overwhelmed her with his physical presence. When he was touching her, she couldn’t think straight. She pushed away and jump
ed to her feet, leaving him off balance so he nearly fell to the floor.
She dashed across the room to dawdle by the hearth. He was still on his knees, and he glared at her, a hint of temper showing, but it was swiftly masked. He pushed himself up and asked, “What’s wrong now?”
“I’m confused about what kind of person you are. I presumed I knew, but I really don’t, and I can’t decide what’s best.”
“I’ll decide for you then. I am best. I am precisely who you need in your life to be happy.”
“What about you?” she asked. “What do you need to be happy?”
“Haven’t you figured that out?”
“I thought it was me, but I’m so bewildered that I’m not sure of anything.”
“First off, I should clarify a paltry detail I neglected to explain previously.”
“What is it?”
“You have a new guardian.”
“Who?”
“Lord Barrett. He had himself installed when the judge removed your uncle from the trust accounts.”
“I’m barely acquainted with Lord Barrett. How could he assume any control over me?”
“You might not be acquainted with him, but he’s an honorable fellow, and he has determined that you’ll wed me. If you saunter over and ask him, I believe he’ll say he insists on it.”
“What gall for him—and you—to dicker over me like a cow at the market.”
“At least we haven’t robbed you blind.”
“Not yet anyway.”
As they’d been talking, he’d been slyly sidling closer. She should have fled the room, but she was glued to her spot and could only watch him approach—like a rabbit watching a viper.
“Fate is guiding my steps,” he said. “I can’t avoid you.”
She’d sensed Fate’s interference too, but wouldn’t admit it. She wouldn’t give him more leverage. “I wouldn’t peg you as a superstitious type.”
“Usually, I’m not, but if it’s not Fate guiding me, then it must be my father. He’s hovering constantly.”
“Why would your father be hovering?”
“I think he wanted me to find you. I think he’s been worried about you, and he wanted me to take care of you for him.”
“That’s a ludicrous idea.”
