by Tracy Kay
“I cannot be sure. All I know is that what family I have left is in danger.” Joselyn paused, watching her aunt. “Poor Jeremy, he is beside himself with grief for Zachary. They were so close and I don’t know how to tell him that we are being threatened.”
“The note isn’t addressed specifically to Jeremy. It could have been meant for you, Lady Beatrice. Where did you find this note?” Madeline queried, investigating every aspect of the puzzle.
“It was in the foyer yesterday morning. According to Mr. Martin, our butler, it had been slipped under the door in the night,” Beatrice answered.
“Have you thought of hiring an investigator?”
“No,” Joselyn started. “But even if I did hire someone and knew who to hire, how could I trust that he couldn’t be bought by Farrington or whoever it is doing this to us?”
“It would be a risk,” Madeline agreed.
“What am I going to do, Maddy?” Joselyn sobbed desperately into her hands.
“I could ask my brothers for help. They might know how to deal with this situation.”
“What could Stephen and Jared do?” Joselyn questioned, peeking up over her hands.
Madeline laughed at the thought of her two youngest brothers handling a killer. “No, not Stephen and Jared. I was referring to Brandon and Nicholas. They returned from their voyage last night and they might know what to do.”
Taking her hands completely away from her face, Joselyn sat up straight and gazed at Madeline. She knew Madeline would find a solution to her problem, but she didn’t think it would involve her oldest brothers. She didn’t know those particular brothers of Madeline’s having only met the Nicholas briefly and Brandon not at all; however, she had heard the rumors of their notorious reputations, and she wasn’t fond of what she had heard. This was not the help she had planned on. “I don’t know what your brothers could possibly do, Madeline.”
“It is at least worth talking to them. The family is having a small dinner party this evening in honor of their homecoming. Why don’t you come and talk with them?” Madeline suggested.
“It wouldn’t be right for me to attend a party this soon after Zachary’s death. I couldn’t possibly . . .” Joselyn began, trying to extricate herself from another dull family gathering of the Cathcart’s.
Putting her hand on her great niece’s arm, Beatrice encouraged her. “My dear, go. Talk to Lady Madeline’s brothers. Listen to what they have to say. They are good men and I am sure they will find a way to help us.” She patted Joselyn’s arm.
Beatrice enjoyed gossip and knew all the best tidbits about England’s prominent families, but the Cathcarts were special. When she was a young girl, she had been quite smitten with the former duke and for a brief time had been courted by him. The former duke’s grandson, Brandon, reminded her of him and her younger days. She was quite partial to the Cathcarts, and if she was only a few decades younger, she would jump at a dinner invitation. She was delighted that Joselyn was friends with Madeline and she was not about to let her grandniece miss out on such an opportunity. “Besides, Joselyn, dear, it would do you good to get out of this stuffy, old house. I insist.” The woman nodded her head curtly, ending the discussion.
“Very well. I will go,” Joselyn forced a smile.
“Good.” Madeline stood up. “I will see you tonight.” She turned to Beatrice who was beginning to stand. “I can show myself out, Lady Beatrice.” She gave the woman a quick kiss on the cheek and nodded to Joselyn before departing.
Once Madeline had left, Beatrice glared at her niece with disapproval. “The day will come, my dear, when Lady Madeline will figure out that you use her only to solve your problems and give you social status. When she does learn that you don’t particularly care for her friendship, I do not want to be around to witness her temper.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Aunt Bea. Maddy and I are the best of friends,” Joselyn calmly denied Beatrice’s accusation.
“Joselyn, I have known you all your life, and I know you do not like that girl, despite how kind she is to you. You are like your mother, cold of heart and concerned only for yourself. You use people to get what you want without a thought for those who suffer for it. If I were you, I would tread carefully where Madeline Cathcart is concerned. She is the one person who could destroy you, and I truly do not wish to see that.” The old woman exited the room, leaving Joselyn surprised that her aunt was so perceptive.
CHAPTER TWO
The imposing, tall, thin, slightly graying, dark-haired man was standing in front of the fireplace, berating his eldest son of thirty years in a heated voice. “Brandon, it is time you start taking on more responsibilities, settling down, having children. I know a nice, young girl . . .”
“You have other sons, Father, to carry on the line, you do not need mine,” Brandon Cathcart, Marquess of Kenrik, whose title came from his mother’s deceased brother who had no sons of his own, interrupted his father as he casually lounged on the dark brown, leather sofa in the study. Brandon was a tall man with black hair and features like his father, but where his father was thin, Brandon was broad of shoulder, well-muscled, quick, and graceful. His green eyes sparked with annoyance at his father before he gestured towards his half-brother seated in one of the leather chairs which were scattered around the room. “Such as Nick here.”
Nicholas Cathcart, the Earl of Kylington, who had inherited his maternal grandfather’s title, was a tall, elegant, twenty-eight-year-old man with light blue eyes and sandy blond hair. Startled by being brought into the argument between his father and half-brother, Nicholas frowned. “Hey now, don’t drag me into this.”
“Stay out of this, Nicholas,” Jonathan snapped at his younger son and turned his attention back on Brandon before he noticed Nicholas roll his eyes in exasperation. “You are my heir, Brandon.” Jonathan wanted Brandon married and wanted him to take over the remainder of the responsibilities he had to contend with as the Duke of Warlington, freeing him to spend more time with his wife, social activities, and travel. Since Brandon’s return home ten years ago, he had given Brandon the bulk of his responsibilities, including the raising of his children, and when his father, the duke, had passed, he had given Brandon those responsibilities as well. Jonathan simply wasn’t up to the task.
“You could easily change that,” Brandon pointed out, tired of this discussion and wanting to put an end to it. He didn’t care to be the duke, or the marquess for that matter. Not only did he handle the responsibilities of being the Marquess of Kenrik, but he dealt with the majority of all the Cathcart family and the Duke of Warlington’s responsibilities, businesses, and estates, as well as attending Parliament in his father’s stead. He would just as soon leave it all to Nicholas or one of his other brothers who were as suited to it as he was. He had other pursuits to concern him, and it didn’t include the social and political commitments being a duke required; however, the obligations were his, and he had promised his grandfather he would fulfill his duty.
“No! I will not. Damn it, Brandon, but you are stubborn,” Jonathan exclaimed in agitation. His son took after the former duke, not only in appearance, but in his temperament and intelligence. Brandon had spent countless hours with his grandfather, learning how to manage the Cathcart assets and the obligations of the dukedom. Jonathan was extremely proud of his son, if only he would marry and provide an heir.
“This is an old argument,” Brandon began tiredly.
“Yes, it is, and I grow weary of it.” Jonathan ran a frustrated hand through his hair, wondering if he would ever get through to his son. “At least think about marrying.”
“Why? When I have no wish to?” Brandon questioned off-handedly.
“It is time to put the past behind you, Brandon, and . . .”
Brandon interrupted with a growl. “My past has nothing to do with this.”
“Father,” Nicholas began, not wanting his father to bring up painful memories, which would turn a simple argument into a full-blown
fight, causing an even larger chasm in Brandon and Jonathan’s relationship.
Ignoring Nicholas, Jonathan continued. “It has everything to do with this. If your mother . . .” He stopped, seeing the pained expression on his son’s face, and stormed out of the room.
Brandon sighed, walked over to the sideboard and poured Nicholas and himself a drink.
“He is never going to forgive her, Brandon. You know that.” Nicholas took the drink his brother offered.
“I know, Nick. Sometimes, I can’t forgive her either, but she was my mother.” He started taking a drink, but paused when Madeline walked into the room.
“You two are at it again, I see,” she stated, shaking her head at her half-brother.
“So it seems,” he answered nonchalantly.
“Why can’t you stop this bickering, Brandon? I don’t understand.” Madeline wished they wouldn’t fight. She wasn’t close to her father and didn’t deal much with him, but she hated seeing Brandon and her father argue.
“Madeline, drop it,” Nicholas chided, not wanting to antagonize Brandon further.
“But . . .” She wanted to talk it out, find a way to ease the tension between them.
“Madeline,” Nicholas warned her.
“All right, all right. It is not what I wanted to talk about anyway,” she acquiesced, deciding to let the subject drop for now.
“Oh?” Both men looked at her in surprise.
“I need your help,” she began, searching them both with pleading green eyes a shade brighter than Brandon’s.
“We have only been away a few months and you are in trouble. Please tell me you didn’t get yourself pregnant, Madeline,” Nicholas grinned, teasing his sister. He loved making her blush.
“No, no,” she denied quickly, turning bright red at Nicholas’ jest and biting her lip nervously.
“Madeline?” Brandon questioned. He took her hand and led her to a chair, watching her intently. Unlike his brother, he did not find humor in the possibility of his sister being pregnant. He was overly protective, even possessive, of his sister, and the thought of a man touching her without his permission did not sit well with him.
“No, Brandon, it is nothing like that at all,” she reassured them. Why did they always presume the worst of her when she asked them for help? Honestly, she wasn’t that bad.
“Good, because I wouldn’t want to have to hurt anyone today,” Brandon expressed with mock seriousness and winked at her, satisfied that her innocence was still intact.
“Brandon, please.” She tilted her head in exasperation, recognizing his teasing tone.
“All right, puss, all kidding aside, what is the problem?” Brandon inquired, sitting down across from her and stretching out his long legs.
“A friend of mine needs your help. Would you help her?” Madeline asked in a rush.
Nicholas chuckled. “Don’t you think we should know what kind of help she needs before we agree, Maddy?”
“Oh, of course. Lady Joselyn’s brother was recently killed,” she started.
“You mean Zachary Parker?” Nicholas interrupted, having heard of the death at his club the previous evening.
“Yes, Nick.” Madeline crinkled her brow with bemusement, uncertain how he had learned of Zachary’s death since he had only recently returned to England. “He was murdered last week. At least that is what Lady Joselyn believes. She thinks someone is trying to kill off her family and that her brother’s death is connected to the massacre of her family twelve years ago.”
“Why does she believe this, honey?” Nicholas questioned with mild interest.
“I was getting to that.” Madeline frowned at Nicholas in annoyance. When both men laughed at her irritation, she glared at them before going on. “Joselyn’s family received a note which said: ‘First the brother, next the sister. Comply or she will die.’ It was signed A. Farrington which is why she . . .” She stopped her words when Brandon choked on his brandy with surprise.
“You know the name, Brandon?” Nicholas asked.
Brandon stood and walked over to the fireplace to stare pensively at the cold hearth. “I know it.” He was aggravated that he had allowed his emotions to show. He hadn’t expected that name to ever fall from his sister’s lips. Brandon knew Farrington and saying he did not like the man was putting it mildly at best. However, Brandon was perplexed because writing threatening notes didn’t seem to be something Farrington would do.
“Oh,” Madeline was puzzled by Brandon’s reaction. “Well, Lady Joselyn is very scared and she doesn’t know what to do, which is why I suggested asking the both of you. Do you think you could help her?”
Brandon turned back to her and studied her a moment before answering. “We could help her, yes.”
“Thank you, Brandon,” Madeline uttered with relief, getting up and hugging her brother.
Pulling her arms from around his neck, he chastised, “I didn’t say that we would help her, puss. Farrington is a very dangerous man.”
“But Brandon, please,” she pleaded. “Lady Joselyn is coming to the dinner party tonight. Will you at least meet her?”
“Madeline, you know I can’t abide those parties of your mother’s.” Brandon always tried to avoid Elizabeth Cathcart’s parties; for that matter, he rarely attended any of the ton’s social events. If he did, he always created a scandal and the gossips would start spreading outlandish stories about his past and current indiscretions. They would be quite surprised at how few indiscretions he did partake in and would not believe it even if he did explain.
“It is not Mother’s party and it is mostly family. Besides, it is in your and Nick’s honor, please Brandon,” Madeline implored, gazing intently at Brandon.
Brandon glanced at his brother. “How can I say no when she looks at me with those big, green eyes?” He sighed as she threw herself at him, hugging and kissing him.
“Thank you, thank you,” Madeline cried, placing kisses all over Brandon’s face.
Brandon chuckled and hugged her tight to him for a moment and then gently pushed her away. “Run along, sweet. Nick and I have some things to discuss.”
“Thank you,” she said again, giving him another quick hug before hugging Nicholas on her way out with a wide grin lighting up her face.
“How do you know Farrington?” Nicholas inquired.
Brandon sighed and took a swallow of his drink. “He hurt a good friend of mine years ago. He is a very dangerous man, Nicholas. If he is behind Zachary Parker’s death, it will not be easy proving it.”
“Perhaps we should go to the authorities,” Nicholas suggested. If there was indeed a murder, Nicholas wasn’t interested in getting involved. He preferred to keep his life as uncomplicated as possible.
Brandon shook his head at his brother. “They won’t be able to do anything. Farrington is a powerful marquess and wealthy. He will buy them off, scare them off, or worse, particularly if there is no proof that it is him.”
“Then what can we do?” Nicholas wondered. If the authorities’ hands were tied, surely there wasn’t much they could do.
“I won’t know until I talk to Lady Joselyn. It may not even be Farrington who is behind this.”
“So, we wait.”
“We wait,” Brandon confirmed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before finishing it off.
While she waited to be announced, Joselyn briefly examined herself in the stylish mirror above an ornate table in the Cathcart’s foyer. She did not want to attend this dinner party where the only other guests were members of the Cathcart family. She couldn’t help but compare her modest family to their large and boisterous clan. Although her family had been larger when she was younger, they had never shown their emotions, not like the Cathcarts who were either laughing, arguing, or hugging, particularly the siblings. Joselyn couldn’t fathom the close bond Jonathan and Elizabeth Cathcart’s children had between them. The children weren’t close to their parents, which she supposed was understandable since Jonathan and Elizabet
h had left them to their own defenses and upbringing, but even so, their relationships were not typical in her opinion.
Joselyn huffed and turned away from her reflection. She simply would never comprehend the Cathcart’s family dynamics and others like them, such as Gretchen Malany’s family, one of Madeline’s oldest and closest friends. They were also an odd family in her estimation. Thankfully, none of the Malanys would be here this evening.
Oh, how she did not want to be here. Joselyn grimaced at the ordeal she was about to undergo. When Madeline entered the foyer, Joselyn quickly covered her expression by smoothing out wrinkles in her gown where none existed.
Madeline greeted her friend with a brief hug. “Joselyn, I am so glad you came.”
“I don’t want to be here, Maddy,” Joselyn complained honestly, moving away from Madeline.
“I know, which is why you are going to talk to my brothers after dinner,” she proclaimed determinedly.
“What am I going to do if your brothers can’t help me, Maddy? I can’t see what they could possibly do.” Joselyn procrastinated, desperately searching for a reason to avoid this dreaded meeting with Madeline’s brothers. “I guess I could still hire someone, but how could I trust him? He could cheat me or be bribed by Farrington. Madeline, it is hopeless,” she sobbed.
Becoming irritated with Joselyn’s lack of faith in her brothers, Madeline offered her another solution she knew Joselyn would reject. “You could get married.”
“Ugh, like that will solve anything,” Joselyn scoffed at the mere idea.
“At least you would have someone to protect you and Jeremy,” Madeline reasoned, purposefully annoying Joselyn further.
“He would have to be immortal,” Joselyn whined sarcastically. “Zachary was brave and intelligent and he still got killed! No, marriage wouldn’t work, even if I wanted to marry, which I do not. Farrington would simply kill him too.”
