Almost Yours (Ladies of Scandal Book 3)

by Hilly Mason

  “Will you be staying the night, at least?” Madame Truffle asked him.

  “My time is limited, Madame, but I thank you for your hospitality.”

  Madame Truffle put a hand on his arm. “She loved you, you know. Pearl did. She wanted you to know that before she died.”

  Jack nodded, not knowing what else to say. He then ducked under the doorway and left. It was only when he was a block away when he finally felt a bit of relief.

  If it were true that his brother had bribed the sheriff and escaped Philadelphia towards his cottage he would most likely have stopped at their friends’ house in Upper Darby.

  The fur trade industry was a dangerous job. He and his brother only trusted people to a certain degree, because it was hard to know for sure if the people they did business dealings with would cut them in the throat, literally and figuratively. In Jack’s experience, it was a fifty-fifty chance. The Lockhearts were one of the very few that Jack did trust, for they had saved his life after the fur trader, Mr. Lockheart, brought him to his home during one brief, but life threatening case of measles. Mrs. Lockheart was an herb woman and had stayed by his side every day to administer care until his symptoms abated.

  He also owed him more than just his gratitude. But they didn’t know that.

  The Lockhearts’ house was old and unobtrusive: a wooden two-story structure with a century-old windmill spinning gently in the breeze. Now a widow, Mrs. Lockheart mended clothes to make a living for herself and her daughter, who was now at a marriageable age.

  Jack needed to walk off his hangover, so he denied a carriage and went to their house by foot. Mrs. Lockheart’s daughter, Chloe was sweeping the front porch when he arrived later that afternoon. She spotted Jack, and even where he stood he saw her turn a bright shade of red before she fled into the house. Jack shook his head, chuckling to himself. Even if he did fancy Chloe, he would never in good conscious court her.

  Not after what he did.

  Pretending like he hadn’t seen Chloe, he knocked on the door.

  A middle aged woman, similar in appearance to Chloe save for her graying brunette hair and a few more wrinkles on her face, smiled broadly at him.

  “I know why you’re here,” Amanda Lockheart said to him, standing out of the way of the door to welcome him in. “First, sit, have some cold tea. It’s stifling outside. Did you walk all the way over here from the Murrays?”

  “From the inn, actually,” Jack told her as he entered the house. She led him to the parlor and poured him a glass of tea from a pitcher on the table. He took the tea gratefully as he sat down in one of the sofas. The furniture in the parlor seemed new. Did they use the money I gave them to purchase new furnishings? He wondered. Amanda had refused his last bit of money the last time he had offered it to her, but he left his coin purse in the entryway of their house anyway.

  The heat was giving him one of his terrible headaches. The alcohol earlier probably was of no help. Stars danced around the corners of his vision and he blinked them away as he sipped his drink. He happened to glance up at Chloe, who was peering at him in the hallway. She ducked her head quickly.

  Mrs. Lockheart gave him an approving smile, having caught the interaction. He knew she wanted him to marry her daughter, and there was a time when he had considered it. The girl was kind and pretty enough, and they probably thought him a gentleman.

  If they only knew.

  I need to tell them. He didn’t want to hold secrets anymore, being around Isla had made him certain of that. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was as though the words were stuck in his throat. He tried clearing it and took another sip of his tea.

  “Chloe, dear, why don’t you join us?”

  Chloe Lockheart quickly appeared from wherever she was hiding and walked over to them. She lowered her eyes demurely as she refilled Jack’s glass with more tea. Mrs. Lockheart looked hopefully at the two.

  Despite his friendship with the family, Jack didn’t want to linger here any longer than he needed to. And he knew he wasn’t going to tell them the truth today. So much would be at stake if he did.

  “Where is my brother, Mrs. Lockheart?”

  The older woman smoothed her skirts as she sat down in the chair across from him. She nodded for her daughter to leave. Although the younger woman disappeared through the door, she was no doubt that she was still listening in to the conversation.

  “He stopped by here a couple of weeks ago,” Mrs. Lockheart finally said. “I suppose you’ve heard about the bribe he made to the sheriff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, he told us that he had sold his estate in England, and gave most of the money to the sheriff.”

  Jack nodded, suspecting as much. His and Milton’s land was sprawling, and the brothers each owned half of it. They leased some of the land to farmers and other tenants to keep the cash flowing, but most of their wealth came from inherited investments from their father. If Milton had sold his portion of Berkshire and his share of the investments, then there was no chance in hell he was planning to return to England.

  “Where did he leave to?” he asked the woman. “To his cabin?”

  “From what I know, yes. He told me his wife is pregnant.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lockheart. I should be on my way.” Jack rested his glass on the table and stood up.

  “Wait, Lord Craig?” A small blush appeared on Mrs. Lockheart’s cheeks. “My Chloe has been very taken to you, you know.”

  “Your daughter could do much better marrying someone else,” he told her bluntly. “I am not the man for her.”

  Somewhere in the house, he heard a loud wail. Mrs. Lockheart pursed her lips, but instead of asking questions she nodded. “I understand. I hope you find your brother, Lord Craig.”

  He left the house before he could hear any more of the girl’s sobs.

  This is why I have never taken a wife, he thought. Am I cursed to make women cry wherever I go?

  Milton and his wife had built a small cabin in the countryside a few miles further west of Philadelphia. Aki also worked in the fur trade as an interpreter for her family. Jack liked the woman. She was strong -willed, and tough, reminding him of Isla in a way.

  Jack had bought a horse with the leftover coin he had in his pocket and journeyed over to his brother’s house. With as much money as he had on his person, he was only able to buy an old bay, but figured she would last the journey over. When he finally arrived, he was heartened by the fact that the hearth was burning, a comforting plume of smoke rising up into the sky. The house was far enough away from civilization that most people wouldn’t notice the fire, or care to see where it was from.

  The door swung open when he approached, and Jack broke out into a grin as he saw his brother standing in the doorway, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

  His brother wasn’t as large as him; he had inherited his slighter form from their mother. Milton had also inherited their mother’s charming good looks and emerald green eyes, but they both had her lush mop of brown hair.

  Jack dismounted from his horse, his heart relieved to find his brother alive and well. A woman appeared behind Milton. She was his wife, Aki, her beautiful dark brown hair braided over her shoulder, and her arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen.

  He embraced his brother first and then his sister-in-law, whose belly was swollen with her growing child.

  “Congratulations,” Jack exclaimed, looking from his brother to his wife. “Christ, brother, I had thought you were dead.”

  “I would have told you I was outta the jailhouse sooner, Jack, but there was no safe way to send you a letter without the Murrays hearing word of it. I knew you’d figure it out eventually.” Milton chuckled as they entered the cabin. “I can’t believe you went all the way to England and back for me. I owe you one, brother.”

  “I wasn’t going to let you rot in that jail cell.”

  “Well, it’s not like I am a completely innocent man, you know.”

  Jack nod
ded. “The Murrays are going to learn sooner rather than later what really happened. Our friends are trustworthy, but who knows what other eyes and ears have learned of your escape.”

  Milton shrugged. “Well, we plan to be out of here long before then.”

  Jack frowned. “I heard that you sold off your ownership. You’re not planning on returning to England, then?”

  “I feel like I’ve been trying to find a home my entire life. Berkshire never was it for me. Neither was Philadelphia. It’s here, with my wife. I will uproot from this cottage if I need to. There’s plenty of land out west for us to settle and raise our family.”

  Jack felt a mixture of happiness and envy for his brother as he tried not to think about Isla. Aki gave Milton a smile and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to get us something to eat,” she announced, leaving the two of them alone in the small dining room.

  “Her family was killed,” Milton whispered to Jack, his initial joviality replaced by a sudden seriousness.

  “What?”

  “We can’t stay here for much longer. We’re thinking of moving maybe to Illinois, and changing our names.” Milton leaned back in his chair and smiled at his wife as she presented them with a plate of fry bread.

  “Milton, tell me what happened,” Jack insisted. “How did you land in jail? Did the Murrays tell the truth that you stole from them?”

  “You know Gregory Townshend?” Milton asked.

  His wife dropped a tea cup and murmured something in Ojibwe as she bent down and carefully picked up the pieces. Milton looked at her gravely before he began to help.

  “Yeah, of course I know him,” Jack said, confused as to why the man’s name was being brought up. He didn’t have much contact with Gregory, but he seemed decent enough. “Why?”

  Aki’s hands were shaking violently as she set the broken pieces on the table. Despite the fact that she was obviously upset, she held her head up high and firmed her jaw.

  “Gregory Townshend killed my family,” she said loudly.

  Milton put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “My love, why don’t you rest a bit?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she told him. She then sat down at the chair and stared at the broken cup, her eyes alight with tears.

  “As you know, Gregory is the Murrays’ accountant, but he’s a jack of all trades, too,” Milton continued. “He’s partly the reason why I did what I did. He stole from Aki’s family, so I stole from him. An eye for an eye, right?”

  “And then he killed my family,” Aki spat. “I was there. I saw his face with my own eyes.”

  “He would have killed Aki too if she hadn’t escaped in time.” Milton shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done anything.” It seemed like it wasn’t the first time he had shared these thoughts. “I shouldn’t have stolen from their coffers.”

  Aki reached out and grabbed Milton’s arm. “No, you are not at fault for the evil man’s actions. We took what was rightfully ours.”

  “Why not report him to the authorities?” Jack asked. “Either that, Or I will.”

  Milton laughed. “Who would the authorities believe? A lowly fur trader, or the revered accountant for an influential family?”

  “But you’re a lord.”

  “Titles like that don’t mean much here in America.”

  Jack shut his mouth. His brother had a point.

  Milton continued: “He found out what I did and killed most of Aki’s family while I was still in jail. My wife, thank God, managed to escape. But her parents and siblings are all dead.”

  Aki was struggling to stifle her tears. She held her head up proudly, as though daring Jack to think she would cry.

  “So you’re going into hiding so they don’t kill you too?” Jack asked his brother.

  Milton laid a hand on Aki’s belly and nodded. “We have someone else to worry about now.” A look of pure and fierce adoration flickered in the man’s eyes before he turned back to his brother. “I heard about what trouble you went through to get me free, how you went to England to find the Murrays’ daughter. Thank you is not enough, Jack.”

  Jack shrugged dismissively. “You would do the same for me, Milton.” He took a sip of his tea. “Do you know that their daughter is that red-headed Isla girl from the orphanage in Scotland?”

  It took a moment for Milton to register this. “God, I haven’t thought about her in years! We used to torment that poor girl.”

  “You did,” Jack amended.

  “I think I remember you teasing her too.” Milton looked at his brother shrewdly. “Oh, Christ. You’re in love with the Murrays’ daughter, aren’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jack said gruffly, although that particular answer was revealing enough.

  “You better watch out for her, if that Gregory is still near,” Aki said. “He is an evil man.”

  God, she was right. This Gregory fellow was a monster.

  “I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t hurt her,” he told them.

  “I wish I could do more to help you, but I’m not leaving my wife,” Milton put an arm around Aki’s shoulders. “I hope you understand that it’s too dangerous to leave her alone, now that she’s with child with no other family to help her. But Gregory needs to be taken down for what he has done to our family. I’ll keep my ears open and let you know if I think of something.”

  “A shot to the head would make quick work of him,” Jack remarked dryly.

  “Yes, and then you will be hanged. What good would that be to Isla?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Of course it’s not.” Jack lowered his gaze to his hands, which were clenching the edges of the table so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

  Milton poured himself and his brother a glass of whiskey. “You’re thinking about the Lockhearts, aren’t you?”

  “They still don’t suspect a thing.” Jack told him, grateful for the liquid fire.

  “Well, when are you going to tell them?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it’s too late, that they would be better not knowing. I think that’s just me being a coward, though.”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  “I need to tell them, even if it puts me in jail. At least I won’t die with a heavy conscious.”

  “You still don’t remembering anything about that night, do you?”

  Jack swallowed. “Nothing.”

  “So how do you know you did it?” When Jack didn’t answer, his brother continued: “I think Mrs. Lockheart will be more forgiving than you give her credit for,” Milton told him, but Jack could detect the look of worry on his face.

  “Do me a favor, brother,” Milton said. “Stop sacrificing yourself for me, all right?” he slapped him firmly on the back as he poured him another glass. “And lighten up for a night. At the moment, everything is all right, so let’s rejoice to that.”

  After a few more drinks Jack finally decided it was time to leave.

  “When you and Isla reunite, tell her I’m sorry.” Milton said as he walked his brother to the door.

  Jack hoped there would be such a time.

  “I’m not sure if I will be talking to her again. But I do plan on keeping an eye on her until I can figure out what to do with Gregory and the Lockhearts. I’m heading back to England once this is all over. If I don’t end up being hanged first.”

  “You won’t be,” Milton told him firmly.

  Jack wished he believed him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Make sure to turn and smile for the audience. You have to remember that you’re there for them. It’ll make you seem more personable. Maybe give them a little wave as well.”

  “Personable?” Isla muttered. “I’ve been called many things in my life, but personable is not one of them.”

  “It’s all part of performing,” Gregory explained. “You’re not going on stage as Isla St. George. You’re going on stage as Isla the Lion Tamer.”

  “I’ve been a performer for
years, Gregory. I’m certain I know what I’m doin’,” Isla said sourly. “Are we done practicing for today?”

  Gregory glanced at his pocket watch. The gold chain sparkled as it caught the sunshine. “For the afternoon, yes. But we’ll get right back to it before the performance.”

  Isla sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I don’t think it’ll be necessary to go through the routine one more time. Golden seems exhausted.”

  “I think you’re exhausted,” Gregory amended. “You’re going to have to learn to push through that if you want to be successful. You’re not going to feel amazing each time you perform. Shouldn’t you know that already, with your fighting experience?”

  Well, maybe I don’t want to be successful, Isla thought bitterly. She was nervous about that evening, which was her first show at the River Theater. She was worried that Golden wouldn’t do well in front of such a large crowd in an enclosed space. The cat seemed fine with the smaller street shows. But how would she react with all of the loud voices, and the applause?

  Isla had never been so apprehensive before a show, and she had been an entertainer for much of her young adult life.

  “You’ll be just fine,” Gregory reassured her. He opened his mouth to say something else before closing it again, as though searching for words. Finally he spoke. “Can we talk for a moment?”

  She looked up at him warily. She hadn’t spoken to him much in the past few days, mostly because she was still uncomfortable with what had happened between them, but also because she was much too busy practicing with Golden.

  “Sure,” she finally said to him. She walked Golden over to her cage and Gregory locked it. “Where do ye want to talk?”

  “Let us go over to the bench over there.” Gregory was careful not to offer his arm as they walked over to the bench that sat under a hawthorn tree. It was the only hawthorn tree on the property, planted there by her father when they first arrived in America. “For good luck,” her mother had told her. “And it seems to be working; we have a successful business, and our daughter has finally come home to us.”