The School for Heiresses: 'Wed Him Before You Bed Him

by Sabrina Jeffries

  Loved? He groaned. Yes. What a fool he had been not to see it. For all his attempts to change her, he loved the new Charlotte as much or more than the old. He loved that she didn’t let him bully her, that she knew her own mind, that she believed fiercely in her school. Being with her was like racing at breakneck speed down an endless road of possibilities.

  Not being with her was hell.

  “That brother-in-law of yours came again today, demanding to know where you’d gone,” said the man across from David. “He’s a little bastard, that one, lording it over me because he thought I was one of your servants. I told him to be off before I boxed his ears.”

  “I doubt that would do any good,” David replied. “Richard is desperate for money these days. Still, if he was the one who sent the letter to your office about Sarah’s suicide note, he has some nerve coming to me for funds.”

  “Pinter doesn’t think he’s the one. His handwriting didn’t match the letter. Pinter made sure to get a sample when questioning him at the office a few days ago.”

  “Trust me,” David said dryly, “that means nothing.” And David should know, since he’d sent Charlotte letters for years that were not in his own hand.

  The door to the kitchen banged open. “What the hell is going on here?” Pinter demanded as he saw the small piles of money and the glasses of brandy on the table.

  The other men flinched, but David just continued rearranging his cards. “We’re playing whist for sixpence a point. Care to join us, Pinter?”

  Pinter scowled. “I see you’re determined to corrupt my men, Kirkwood.”

  David shot him an irritable glance. “It’s been six days. You’ve ransacked my house, questioned all my friends, and kept me a virtual prisoner. The least you can allow me is a little entertainment.”

  The men watched to see what their superior would say. When he let out a long breath and took a seat at the table, they relaxed.

  Pinter poured himself a glass from the decanter David had produced earlier in the evening. “You may be interested to know that we found your footman.”

  That got David’s attention. “George? I assumed he was halfway to the coast by now.”

  “So did I.” Pinter drank deeply, then set down the glass. “But he didn’t make it so far as that. He was at his sister’s house in Twickenham.”

  “What did he have to say for himself?”

  “Well, now, that’s interesting. It took me awhile—and a few idle threats—to get the truth out of him, but apparently you were right about his taking your wife to the moneylender to offer the man her jewels. What you probably don’t know is that her brother went with them, too.”

  David cursed. “I’m not surprised. The little devil was always a bad influence on her.”

  Pinter’s gaze locked with his. “That fits with something else your footman told me. It seems that some of the money you were paying out for your wife’s gambling debts was going to Richard Linley’s debts.”

  “What?”

  “Your wife was coming to you for money she was giving to her brother.” Pinter took a sip of brandy. “You said he only started asking for money after your wife died. That’s because his source of funds dried up with her death.”

  “Damn the bastard,” David hissed. “He let her risk my anger, just so he could feed his obsession? When I get my hands on him—”

  “There’s more.” Pinter set down the glass, his expression now quite solemn. “According to George, your wife had decided a few days before her death to cut Mr. Linley off. Apparently, the visit to the moneylender upset her. I suppose asking for money from you was one thing; pawning your family’s jewels was a bit too extreme for her comfort.”

  David went cold. “If she told Richard she wouldn’t give him any more money—”

  “Exactly,” Pinter said. “It’s certainly motive for murder.”

  “But he was her brother, her pet! Surely he wouldn’t…he couldn’t…”

  “We won’t know until we can question him.”

  “He was here only a few hours ago,” David said.

  “Well, he’s nowhere to be found now. I have several men out looking for him.” Pinter took up his glass again. “But don’t you worry. He won’t escape us for long.”

  The bell rang in the kitchen, startling them all.

  “It’s probably one of my men reporting,” Pinter said, “but just in case…” He waved a fellow in livery toward the door.

  When the man returned, he had Giles with him.

  David shot to his feet. Since Giles was a suspect like everyone else, David had written him a note with the same tale he’d given the rest of his friends and family. David’s heart lodged in his throat as he saw the suspicious gaze Pinter leveled on Giles.

  “What the devil is going on?” Giles said when he spotted David. “I thought you were in the country with a friend!”

  “Why are you here?” David countered.

  Giles glanced from David to Pinter and back. “A stranger came by my lodgings a couple of hours ago. He demanded to know where you were. He wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know, but when I held fast to my claim, he told me to make sure this got to you and no one else.”

  Giles threw a letter on the table. “I debated whether to open it, but decided I’d best make sure it was worth tracking you down for.” His expression was grim. “After I read it, I headed over here, hoping to go through your desk looking for information about where you’d gone. You’d better read it.”

  David opened the letter. It’s few lines struck a chill to his soul:

  I have your “friend” Mrs. Harris. If you wish to see her again, go to your estate in Berkshire and get the jewels you keep in the safe. Then bring them to Saddle Island. She and I will await you there. Come alone and unarmed. If you have not arrived by dusk tomorrow, she will die, and her death will be on your head.

  Richard Linley

  Terror gripped his heart, squeezing it until he could hardly draw breath. Lifting his gaze to Pinter, he choked out, “Richard has Charlotte.”

  Pinter took the letter from his numb hands and scanned it swiftly. “Where is Saddle Island?”

  David fought for calm. He had to keep his wits about him. Charlotte’s safety depended on it. “It’s in the portion of the Thames that runs past my estate. It’s little more than a grassy mound with a gazebo on it.” His gut clenched to think of Charlotte’s being forced to cross the river.

  “So there’s nothing to obstruct the view from land?” Pinter asked. When David shook his head, Pinter scowled. “Clever fellow, your brother-in-law. By having you row out to the island, he’ll be able to tell at once if anyone is with you. We won’t even be able to come at him separately without his seeing us. No doubt he intends to leave the island by boat and come down the Thames to the coast. From there he can catch any packet boat to France.”

  And if David didn’t reach them in time…

  “I suppose he heard about the Kirkwood jewels from Sarah,” Giles put in.

  “I don’t care about the bloody Kirkwood jewels!” David snapped. “He can have every one of them, as long as he doesn’t hurt Charlotte.”

  He headed for the door, but Pinter stopped him.

  “Be sensible about this, Kirkwood. Let me and my men help you. It’s looking more and more likely that he killed your wife.”

  “Don’t you think I realize that? But I don’t want you getting Charlotte killed, too! You said yourself he’d be able to see anyone coming.”

  “Not at night. There’s no moon tonight, and we can be in Berkshire in four hours, five at the most, long before dawn.” Pinter stared him down. “He won’t be expecting that. He thinks you’re in the country, remember? He’ll assume that it took time for his message to reach you. So if you show up at night, you’ll have the advantage.”

  “How do you figure that? If he can’t see us coming, we won’t be able to see him, damn it.”

  “He’ll have to light a fire, if only to keep warm. And ev
en if he doesn’t, you’ll need a lantern to get to the island. So once you reach it, we’ll be able to see you and him, but he won’t be able to see us.” When David scowled, Pinter added, “He may not be the only one in this, you know. If he has other men and he’s armed, how will you fight them off alone? You need our help.”

  David tensed, but Pinter had a point. Richard was so volatile that David needed to be prepared for anything.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “But you do as I say. If you hadn’t wasted your time pursuing her as a suspect instead of going after my bloody brother-in-law, she wouldn’t even be in this danger. So I won’t let you muck this up, too, understood?”

  Pinter colored, but he nodded.

  “Come on then. My phaeton will be the fastest. You can ride with me. The rest of them can come behind in the carriage.”

  God help Richard if he harmed one hair on Charlotte’s head. Because if he did, David wouldn’t rest until the bloody bastard was dead.

  Charlotte couldn’t breathe, and it had nothing to do with the gag in her mouth. Richard and two scoundrels were taking her up the Thames, for what reason she didn’t know. She supposed it was related to Sarah’s death, but right now, all she could think of was that she lay bound and helpless in the bottom of the boat, with her head inches from the river. The treacherous, awful river.

  If the wherry were to tip over, she wouldn’t be able to help herself. Trussed up as she was, she would sink like a stone. The black water would close over her head, seeping in through the gag, and she would not even be able to hold her breath…

  She did not realize she was gasping and moaning beneath the gag until one of Richard’s bullies nudged her shoulder with his foot.

  “What’s wrong with her?” he asked Richard. “Looks like she’s choking.”

  Taking the lantern that hung on a hook at the head of the boat, Richard leaned down to peer at her. That made the wherry rock, which only worsened her breathing problem. She was already starting to see spots before her eyes. Oh God, she could not pass out, not here, not now, with the water so close…

  “If I take off the gag, do you promise not to scream?” Richard asked her.

  Somehow she managed a nod.

  He removed the gag, and she drew in several deep breaths. She was still tied, still traveling on the river, but at least she could breathe.

  “You’re not going to be sick, are you?” Richard asked.

  “I do not think so,” she whispered. “Do you think you might…untie my feet as well?”

  He considered that a moment, then bent to cut the bonds on her ankles. “I don’t suppose you can swim without your hands free.”

  Though she could not swim regardless, it still lessened her panic a little to have her legs free.

  “I didn’t expect you to be such a coward,” he went on. “Sarah was always talking about what a fierce female you are.”

  Perversely, those snide words bolstered her courage. “Why are you doing this?” If she was going to die, she at least ought to know what purpose it served.

  He glanced away. “I have to leave for France, and I need money. Your lover is going to give me jewels in exchange for getting you back. I figure those will be easier for him to put his hands on than the amount of blunt I need. Besides, they’ll fetch a pretty penny in France.”

  Richard meant to ransom her to David? “You know he is not in the city right now,” she said, fighting down a new alarm. “How will you reach him?”

  “Giles will find him for me, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  And if he did not? She tried to tell herself that Terence would soon realize she was missing and come after her. But how would he know where she went, or who had her?

  “Why do you have to leave the country?” she asked, remembering what Amelia had said about how Lucas kept his mind off his fears. If she could just keep Richard talking…

  “Why else? My debtors are hounding me. And it’s all Kirkwood’s fault. How dare he give you the money from Sarah’s estate that he should have given to me! Sarah would never have left your little school any money. He invented that legacy—I know he did.”

  She blinked. “How did you know about the legacy?”

  “I heard the two of you talking that night you were at his town house.” Richard sneered at her. “You were quite the cozy couple, too. I wonder if my sister was aware that you and her husband were having an affair.”

  “We were not! Everything between me and David happened after her death.”

  He shot her a disbelieving glance.

  “And that money was not from your sister’s estate, anyway,” she said. Perhaps if she could reassure him that David had done nothing to cheat him of his rightful inheritance, he would see sense and stop this madness. And let her out of this wretched boat. “It was David’s own money. He pretended that Sarah left the school a legacy because he knew I would not take money from him otherwise.”

  “I suppose that’s what he told you,” Richard said sullenly.

  “It’s the truth,” she countered. “As you said, Sarah would never have tried to help the school. Besides, she did not have a will.” She softened her tone. “I am sure she would have left it all to you if she could have.”

  Inexplicably he blanched, then turned his face away.

  Once he fell silent, she became aware once more of the water and the unsteadiness of the boat. Though she could not see the river from her vantage point, she could feel the rocking and hear the rush of it going past. Fear rose again in her chest. Keep him talking or you’ll never make it.

  “So where are we going?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  “Berkshire. There’s an island in the river adjoining David’s estate—”

  “Yes, I know it.” A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat. She’d managed to avoid crossing the water to Saddle Island years ago, and now she was being dragged there against her will. If David really had taken up with her again to punish her for her letter, he would certainly find that fitting.

  But she no longer believed that he had. Reading his letters had cured her of that fear. Lord help her, would she ever see David again?

  “Why are we going to Saddle Island?” she asked, desperate to ignore the sound of the water rushing past the sides of the boat.

  “Because my message to Kirkwood told him to meet us there with the jewels.”

  She ventured the question she had been too afraid to ask earlier. “And what if he does not get your message?”

  “You’d better hope he does,” Richard snapped. When she moaned, Richard looked annoyed. “He’ll get it, don’t you worry. Though why the authorities let him go trotting off to the country, I can’t fathom. They should have arrested him and charged him with murder the minute they read my letter about the suicide note.”

  “You sent that letter?”

  “Damned right I did. I don’t know why they didn’t arrest him at once.”

  “Because he did not kill her!”

  “I suppose you believed he really was out on a walk that night,” Richard said nastily.

  As his words registered, Charlotte’s blood ran cold. “How did you know that is where he was?”

  A frightening stillness came over him. “The Bow Street runner must have told me.”

  “Mr. Pinter did not even mention it to me. I would be very surprised if he mentioned it to you. And I know that the newspapers did not say anything of it.” Charlotte’s heart was clamoring in her chest. “You could not have known that David was on a walk unless you were there.”

  “I must have heard—”

  “You killed Sarah, didn’t you?”

  He glowered at her. “That is absurd.”

  She probably should not have voiced her suspicion aloud, but now that she had, she wanted to know the truth. “If you were there that night—”

  “So what if I was?” A muscle worked in his jaw. “You think I would kill my own sister?”

  “That is why you are leaving the country,
is it not? Because you are afraid they will find Sarah’s diary, and she will have written something to incriminate you?”

  “Enough!” he snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know that Sarah could be difficult sometimes. Trust me, there were times I wanted to kill her myself—”

  “I did not kill her, damn it! I loved her!”

  “I am sure you did not mean to,” she said, determined to ferret out the truth. “It must have been an accident. You would never purposely have hurt her.”

  “No, never.”

  “She pushed you to it, I am sure she did. She probably said something cutting, as she always did, and—”

  “She wouldn’t give me the money!” Then, as if realizing what he’d admitted, he slumped on the bench and buried his face in his hands. “She wouldn’t give me any more damned money.”

  It took all her control not to react to his admission. “Tell me about it,” she said, dredging up the soothing voice she used when one of her girls came to her burdened with guilt over some infraction. “You will feel better if you talk about it.” And then at least she would know the truth.

  For a moment, she thought he would not answer. Then he lifted his head to stare out at the river. “All I wanted was for her to wheedle a little more money out of Kirkwood. Just enough to pay off the rest of what I owed that damned Timms, before things got so bad that he sent his ruffians after me.”

  “And she refused,” Charlotte prodded.

  “She said she was tired of fighting with Kirkwood. Everything would be easier if she could come to some understanding with him. Which meant she couldn’t give me any more money.” He scowled into the night. “So we argued. And I shoved her into the tub. But she hit her head on the side and lost consciousness. It happened so fast. I couldn’t believe it. She just slipped under the water, and I stood there…not sure what to do.”

  “So it was an accident,” Charlotte said, fighting to contain her revulsion. “It could have happened to anyone. Surely if you explained it to the authorities—”

  “Are you mad? They’ll say I should have pulled her out and brought her to a doctor. I did nothing while she drowned! They’ll claim I killed my only sister.”