Treasure Me

by Robyn DeHart

  “Oh no, dear, I didn’t mean your injury. I meant here, in Scotland, with Graeme.” Moira smiled warmly.

  Vanessa folded her hands in her lap, unsure of how to answer. Was Moira asking if Vanessa loved her son, if he made her happy? She wasn’t certain how to answer the question. “Scotland is beautiful. The land is so untamed.”

  “Savage beauty. That’s what Old Mazie has always said,” Moira offered.

  Vanessa inclined her head. “Yes. I haven’t gotten as far into my research as I’d intended. Graeme and I have been”—she searched for the right word, unsure of how much Graeme shared with his mother about his job for Solomon’s—“preoccupied with work on his studies.”

  “I wanted to give you something.” Moira stood and went to her dressing table, then returned with a small bag. “Hold out your hand,” she instructed.

  Vanessa did as she bade, and Moira emptied the bag into Vanessa’s palm. A single ring fell out.

  “It was my wedding ring,” Moira said.

  The gold band was accented with a large round amethyst encircled with small diamonds. “It’s lovely,” Vanessa said.

  “I want you to have it.”

  Vanessa shook her head and held her hand out to her mother-in-law. “I couldn’t.”

  “Yes.” Moira closed Vanessa’s fingers over the ring. “Graeme’s father gave that to me nearly forty years ago. It’s been a very long time since I’ve worn it. But it belongs in the Rothmore estate, and now you are the duchess.”

  Vanessa’s hand still enclosed the ring.

  “Shall we see if it fits?” Moira asked. She withdrew the ring, then slid it onto Vanessa’s left hand. “Perfect.”

  The metal was cold against Vanessa’s skin, the ring delicate and beautiful. She looked up at Moira. “Thank you. I really don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. But if I might offer some advice, from experience.” Moira didn’t wait for approval before she continued. “Don’t be a fool like I was for so long.” She sighed. “Graeme’s father and I had a tumultuous marriage. We were both passionate and stubborn, not to mention prideful, and”—she shook her head woefully—“we gave up on one another. And when that happened, I gave up on love.” She held up a finger and smiled. “That isn’t to say I ever stopped loving his stubborn hide. No one in the world could infuriate me the way he could.”

  Vanessa listened intently to Moira’s words. She wasn’t certain how she felt about any of it yet, but she knew sharing it wasn’t easy for her mother-in-law.

  “That man has been dead for several years now,” Moira continued, “but I’ve been so fearful of getting hurt that I haven’t let another man get close to me.”

  Vanessa sensed there was more, something Moira hadn’t yet said. “Until?” Vanessa prodded.

  Moira gave her a wide grin. “Perceptive. I like that. Until I met George Randolph. He came calling this morning after our lovely dinner last night.” Moira chewed at her lip, and the movement made her look younger, much like a lovesick girl. “He’s charming. Perhaps not as refined as my last husband, but not as overbearing and loud either.”

  She covered Vanessa’s hand with her own. “I don’t know if this will go anywhere, but I’m not running. I’m going to allow that man to court me, though heaven knows why he would want a lass such as myself. I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.”

  Vanessa knew that this entire conversation had been planned. Not simply to give her the wedding ring, although that had been so considerate, but to tell the story she’d shared. Moira was obviously trying to tell Vanessa something—to not be afraid of love. Vanessa wasn’t afraid of it; she simply didn’t believe it existed. At least not for a long term.

  Hadn’t Moira said so herself when speaking of Graeme’s father? Their passion had burned bright and hot for a short time, and then they’d lived separately. Though Moira had said she’d loved him still, she’d simply been too stubborn to reconcile with him.

  Moira squeezed Vanessa’s hand.

  “Thank you for the ring.” Vanessa came to her feet. It was then that she noticed the painting hanging over Moira’s bed. It was a simple watercolor landscape of a pond with a large tree off to the side. The image looked vaguely familiar.

  Vanessa walked over to it for a closer look.

  “I haven’t painted in years,” Moira said. “But that was always my favorite.”

  Vanessa closed her eyes, and pictures came vividly to her mind. She and Graeme sitting beneath that very tree, having a picnic, their children running in the grass beside them. Her heart stopped. She opened her eyes and examined the painting. It was precisely the image from her dream.

  Vanessa reached out, but stopped herself before she touched the painting. “Where is this?” she asked.

  “The Rothmore country estate in Nottingham. I’m certain Graeme will take you there sometime. It’s quite beautiful in the summertime,” Moira said.

  But Vanessa didn’t hear all of Moira’s words, because all she could think about was the dream she’d had upon the Stone of Destiny.

  The Raven sat in the darkened room at the pub waiting for his young protégé to arrive. It didn’t take him long. It never did. They had met here, at a pub on the edge of the small village, on occasion since the day he’d invited Dougal to tea.

  Dougal entered the room and made his way immediately to the table. The Raven inhaled slowly on his cigar, then exhaled right into the boy’s face as he sat. He crossed his legs and eyed the boy. Dirty, with shaggy hair; he would never amount to anything.

  “How do you fare today, Dougal?” he asked, feigning interest.

  Dougal exhaled loudly. “My brother told me who you are. Told me that you are dangerous and not to be trusted.”

  “Did he indeed? He warned you to stay away from me, didn’t he?” The Raven asked. He was intrigued that Graeme hadn’t sought him out. Hadn’t called the authorities to pick him up. “I warned you about sharing too much with your brother.”

  Dougal paled a little. “I didn’t tell him anything about you. Only that we’d met.”

  “Indeed.” Of course, Graeme was fully aware of what The Raven was capable of. He’d seen, firsthand, what The Raven did to those who betrayed him, or those who simply had worn out their usefulness. Poor stupid Sam.

  The Raven took another lengthy drag on his cigar, pulling the smoke through his teeth. “I can honestly say, Dougal my boy, that I have barely met your brother. So whatever he thinks he knows about me, he’s mistaken. I am a gentleman. More than I can say for those renegades your brother associates with in that club of his.”

  Dougal’s eyes widened. “Solomon’s? But they are affiliated with Her Majesty.”

  The Raven laughed, a true and hearty laugh that he didn’t even have to conjure. “Is that what he told you?”

  This time, the boy did not speak. He merely nodded his head, and his tangled mop of hair bobbed.

  The Raven leaned forward, lowering his voice. “That is a lie. Let me tell you a little something about Solomon’s. My brother was also a member, and they got him killed. He left behind a young son and daughter. Very tragic.” He shook his head and clucked his tongue.

  The Raven waited a moment before continuing. “It is true that they have, on occasion, assisted the crown, but they are not affiliated with Her Majesty. Quite the contrary, they work for their own means, their own purposes.” He stopped, annoyed with the discussion of Solomon’s.

  “Some of his friends from Solomon’s are here. We met them for dinner last evening,” Dougal said. “I overheard them talking last night, and Fielding has come for you.” The boy had the impertinence to look smug. He thought the mention of Fielding would threaten The Raven.

  So Graeme had called for Fielding. Did he think simply because Fielding and The Raven were related that he would have a better time getting rid of him? Well, The Raven would not allow that to happen. But he knew that he needed to leave sooner rather than later. Fielding would find him and would
stop at nothing to bring him in. Damnation, but he needed Niall to find that bloody stone!

  The Raven met the boy’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows.

  A pity Fielding had come all this way right before The Raven planned to leave this desolate country. He would have enjoyed another confrontation with the man.

  Nothing could ever be regained once in the possession of Solomon’s. Their security was like no other. Of course, The Raven had his ways, such as kidnapping a member’s family. But that took so much time and organization. And even then, the results were hardly guaranteed, as was evidenced by Niall’s lack of success. It would be far easier were he to find the treasure himself.

  “Would you like to know a secret?”

  Dougal shrugged.

  “Your brother’s search is for naught. I stole the Stone of Destiny from Westminster shortly before I left London.” There was no reason not to tell him. He would be dead before too long, as soon as his usefulness wore out. They always ended up that way.

  A crease slid between Dougal’s eyes. “That cannot be.”

  “Oh, but it is,” The Raven said. “I know precisely where it is.”

  “Yes, I know there was one at Westminster, one believed to be true, but it was a counterfeit. A trick the Scots played on the English long ago. The real one has been here in Scotland the whole time,” Dougal said.

  Fanciful thoughts no doubt brought on by his foolish brother. “And how do you know this?” The Raven crossed his arms over his chest, ready to enjoy an entertaining tale.

  “Because I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Dougal said defiantly. “Graeme found it last night. I saw it just this morning sitting on his desk.”

  “Vanessa,” Graeme yelled as he stormed from his study into the main hall of the house. He started toward the bedchambers. “Gather your belongings,” he said. “We’re leaving immediately.”

  “What the devil are you hollering about?” his mother asked. She wore an apron tied around her waist and wiped her hands on its worn calico fabric. “I could hear you all the way to the kitchen, boy.”

  He stopped and eyed his mother. “Dougal.” Graeme shook his head. “Vanessa and I are leaving. We’ll be staying in Inverness for the duration of our stay.”

  “Don’t be foolish.” Moira frowned and shook her head. “Your brother is a child. Whatever he’s said, I’m certain he doesn’t mean it,” Moira said.

  Graeme didn’t see a reason to tell his mother what Dougal had done. “You didn’t hear him, and he did mean it.” Graeme took a deep breath and put his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I think he’s gotten himself tangled with some people, dangerous individuals he has no business dealing with. Still I cannot and will not stay in this house considering his attitude toward my wife.”

  “He spoke ill of Vanessa, then?” Moira placed both hands on her hips. “I’ll box his ears, I will.”

  “No, Mother.” Graeme took several deep breaths, trying to rein in his anger. “This is his house. He’s the man here. I can make no claims on this house, nor would I take that from him,” Graeme said.

  “This is my house,” Moira argued, placing a hand on her chest. “And you’ll stay if I say you’ll say.”

  “I’m not discussing this, Mother.”

  “Neither am I. Don’t test me on this, Graeme. You know you will not win.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you think you boys come about your stubbornness by accident?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You should protect your wife, but don’t you forget that you have a brother who loves and admires you. He might have rocks for brains, but he’s a good boy.”

  That was it. He’d had about as much as he could stand, and protecting Dougal no longer seemed important. “Mother, he’s the one who shot Vanessa. Do you still think he’s a good boy?”

  “What are you saying?” she asked, wrapping her arms across her body.

  Graeme shoved his hand through his hair. “I told you I think he’s gotten involved with some dangerous people.”

  His mother wrung her hands on the apron. Worry etched lines into her face. “You think the boy is in serious trouble, then?”

  “I do.”

  Moira set her mouth and nodded, her mind already made up. “Still, you will stay here until you leave for London.” She held up a hand to prevent him from arguing. “This is my home, Graeme, and I will say who stays and who goes.”

  Graeme nodded. “Keep in mind it is best if I don’t see the little bugger anytime soon, so don’t be planning any kind of family discussions.” With that, Graeme continued toward Vanessa’s bedchamber. He entered the room and found her sitting on the bed looking rather forlorn. “You heard?”

  “I did.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes large. “But I knew you were talking with your mother, and I didn’t want to intrude.” Then she paused for a moment. “Your brother truly does not care for me?”

  “My brother is an idiot.” He came toward her. She was upset. Her feelings were hurt, and he could sense that, but he didn’t know what to do or say to make it go away.

  He lifted her chin. “He’ll come around. Don’t fret, Duchess.”

  The Raven stood in the darkness waiting for the boy. He hated having to rely on inferior assistants, but here in this Scottish wasteland, he had very little choice. Niall was busy in the caves setting up the dynamite for the explosion tomorrow. The fool had said he’d finally discovered the location of the Loch Ness Treasure, but the tunnel had been destroyed and he needed to create a new one to reach it.

  The Raven lit a cigar and took a slow, deep drag, allowing his lungs to fill with the sweet smoke. Damned if he wouldn’t have preferred to walk into that house, shoot everyone, and then steal the Stone of Destiny. But his new plan required that Graeme stay alive, at least for a little while longer. The Raven planned to leave tonight without the damned Loch Ness Treasure. Niall was close, and Graeme would see to it that The Raven got the final stone, and then the Kingmaker would be complete.

  Finally the boy slid out the back door and ran down the dirt path toward The Raven.

  “Did you get it?” he asked.

  The boy nodded. He glanced behind him at the house, guilt painfully etched in his young features. He’d learn soon enough that you had to betray everyone in order to get what you wanted out of life. Either that, or wait for them to betray you. It wasn’t a difficult choice once you learned that lesson.

  The Raven pulled the counterfeit stone out of his bag. His carefully orchestrated theft from Westminster had been a thing of legends, printed all over the newspapers, a crime that had completely confounded the police. Sadly it had all been for naught.

  “Here,” The Raven said. “Put this one back in its place, and your brother will never know the difference.”

  The boy looked unsure as he held firmly to the actual Stone of Destiny.

  “That belongs in England with Her Majesty. It is a royal artifact, and she would very much like to see its return,” The Raven said, choosing his words carefully. For whatever foolish reason, this boy felt a strong attraction to the English aristocracy. “You know your brother is planning to keep that, and it was never meant to belong to anyone, but rather to be protected by the government.”

  “Go to the devil,” Dougal snapped. “I’m not a fool. I know that Graeme would have done right by the queen.” He took the counterfeit and braced it under his arm.

  The Raven smiled at him. “You’ve done the right thing.”

  “You gave me no choice,” Dougal said, then turned and walked toward the cottage.

  Now his plan was in motion. Eager to convince him of his veracity, Niall had described the other stone’s location in precise detail. The Raven needed only to wait until Niall was out of the cave so that he could rearrange the dynamite, setting a trap for the bastard. It seemed a fitting ending. A small explosion would kill Niall, but leave the treasure unharmed and waiting for Graeme. Such a pity The Raven wouldn’t be there himself to witness Niall’s ending, but he had plans back in
London he needed to attend to. Besides, digging around in the dirt wasn’t really a suitable activity for the future king of England.

  Graeme would follow him back to London. After all, The Raven now possessed the authentic Stone of Destiny. The only reason that The Raven wasn’t killing Dougal right now was that he needed the brat to tell Graeme what he’d done. Once Dougal was no longer under The Raven’s influence, the boy would no doubt begin to feel guilty. In no time at all, he’d be running off to big brother to confess.

  Chapter Twenty

  Graeme moved quietly toward the cave. He knew Vanessa would be unhappy that he’d left without her, but he couldn’t trust the stability of the caves with Niall’s incessant use of dynamite. He would deal with her anger later. He had a task to accomplish, and he needed to do so without worrying about her safety.

  Graeme had her notes in his pocket, crude drawings from the farmer who had originally found the bone that interested her. Her previous fiancé had swindled the notes from the poor man, then proceeded to ridicule his finding in every scientific journal he could. Vanessa had stolen the notes and had intended to discredit her fiancé. Once this business with the Kingmaker was resolved, Graeme fully intended to assist her in doing so. It would give him such pleasure to bring down the man who had hurt her.

  Graeme hadn’t thought anything of the notes until he’d had that foolish dream. This quest could be utterly futile, but what if that treasure truly was resting in a pile of bones?

  • • •

  Vanessa muttered to herself as she climbed the slope of the hillside, trying to keep a safe distance from her husband. It was so like him to sneak off and leave her sleeping in bed. But she was not such a heavy sleeper that she did not notice him rustling through her belongings. She hadn’t heard him sneak into her room, but she’d heard him take something from her dressing table.

  After he’d left the room, she’d waited a few moments, then lit the lantern and realized that he’d taken her notes. She’d seen him out the window leaving the house. She would not be a perfect little wife who stayed behind to embroider or mend her husband’s pants. If he was out in those caves, she would be too.