by Cheryl Holt
Millicent sighed. “I was afraid you might tell me that.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to hear any rumor about them, but even so I have to admit that her scheming to pass off Harry as Caleb Grey is far beyond what I could ever have imagined from her.”
“It’s an outrage,” Millicent said.
“Has she asked for money? Will it be a simple case of blackmail?”
“She hasn’t asked for money. Yet. Why should she? If she can nab the title for the boy, she’ll have her fingers in the estate coffers. Who needs a paltry bribe when vast fortunes can be gained instead?”
“Too true, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you grasp the problem with this entire situation, Mr. Boswell. There has always been a certain type of romantically-inclined person who likes happy endings. The masses would love to see Caleb Grey rise from the dead.”
“Yes, there would be celebrating in the streets.”
“He looks exactly like Caleb’s half-brother, Soloman Grey, and I’m worried others will observe too much of a resemblance.”
“We can’t let it happen, Mrs. Grey.”
“No, Mr. Boswell. We have to nip this in the bud before it can flower into a full-fledged homecoming.”
“What is it you require from me?”
“Harry must return to the bosom of the Boswell family where he belongs.”
“I’ll see to it immediately. We’re not about to be immersed in a scandal. Our name will not be attached to it, and our reputations will not be besmirched.”
“Harry should retire to a location from where he won’t be able to bother us in the future. We had enough tragedy a decade ago.”
“I whole-heartedly concur, Mrs. Grey, and he won’t bother you ever again. Trust me. I will handle it.”
Boswell was so livid that for a moment, she felt sorry for Harry Boswell. He would bear the brunt of Miss Fenwick’s mischief, but some conclusions couldn’t be helped. Although he was only ten, he should know right from wrong. He should know better than to participate in a sham that would damage honorable people.
“Will you yank him away from Miss Fenwick?” Millicent asked. “Obviously, she has an unnatural hold over him that must be severed.
“I apologize that I didn’t already retrieve him from her. He’s run away from school in the past, but he usually slithers back after a few days. I was simply waiting for him to reappear before I wasted time searching. I didn’t realize he was in London.”
“But he won’t be here for long?”
“No, not much longer at all.”
“Where will you take him after he’s retrieved? It doesn’t seem that his school is a viable spot. Miss Fenwick latched onto him there so she could easily abscond with him again.”
“No, he’s finished with school. He’s obstinate and difficult so an indenture with the merchant marines might be the place for him. He’ll be away from England, and they’ll whip him into shape. When he returns, his sass and impertinence will have been vanquished.”
“The marines would be perfect.”
They shared a significant look, with her and Mr. Boswell thinking the same. Life at sea was hazardous. It was very likely the boy wouldn’t survive indentured servitude, and if he didn’t Millicent wouldn’t mourn his demise.
“I also thought I’d visit Miss Fenwick,” Millicent said.
“Should you, Mrs. Grey? Is that wise?”
“I need to scare her off. Once you recover your grandson, I can’t have her trotting around London and announcing she found Caleb Grey.”
“No, no, that wouldn’t do at all.”
“I’ll bribe her into silence.”
He pondered then nodded. “That might work. She and her brother are constantly scrounging for funds. She’d jump at the chance to earn a few pounds.”
“If she accepts the money, it will be an added bonus for me because I can tell Benjamin about it. From the start, I’ve felt she would cease her swindle if we paid her enough. I pleaded with Benjamin, but he’s so besotted that he refused to consider it. He insists she’s not corrupt.”
“This is a brilliant stroke, Mrs. Grey. Clearly, you’ve judged Annabel’s character correctly.”
He opened a drawer, pulled out a piece of paper, and jotted Miss Fenwick’s direction. Millicent folded it and tucked it into her bag.
“How did this occur, Mrs. Grey?” he asked. “What is at the root of Annabel’s tale?”
“I’m not certain of the details, but basically she’s claiming her sister stole Caleb out of his cradle.”
Boswell gasped. “Lydia—took Caleb Grey?”
“It’s Miss Fenwick’s story. Her sister took Caleb and raised him as her own.”
“But it can’t be, Mrs. Grey. Milton and Lydia had a son. They had Harry. Where could Caleb Grey have entered into that scenario? If she was suddenly rearing Caleb, what happened to Harry?”
“As I said, Mr. Boswell, it’s preposterous and we must nip it in the bud.”
“We will definitely nip it, Mrs. Grey. I have suffered nothing but humiliation since Lydia became a member of my family. I will not have her sister fomenting wild gossip and further disgracing our good name.”
“You’ve been a great help, Mr. Boswell. Thank you.”
She stood, and he escorted her to the door. A clerk had tarried on the other side to guide her out of the building.
“You’ll take care of the child?” she inquired.
“He will be gone before you can blink, Mrs. Grey.”
“Today?”
“Yes, I should be able to manage it today. If not today then tomorrow for sure.”
They clasped hands as if sealing a deal, and she marched off. When she reached the front walk, she grinned with satisfaction.
“MISS FENWICK, I PRESUME?”
“Yes, I am Miss Fenwick.”
Annabel stared at Benjamin’s mother, trying to make sense of the imperious woman’s arrival. Bold as brass, she’d ridden up in her carriage, knocked, and demanded an appointment.
Benjamin wasn’t the type to let his mother conduct business for him. If he had something to say to Annabel, he’d say it himself so he couldn’t be aware of his mother’s plotting. Annabel would tattle to Benjamin. Had Mrs. Grey reflected on the ramifications? He had a temper. If she was willing to risk setting a spark to it, she had to be incredibly desperate.
They were in the parlor of Annabel’s house. It wasn’t lavish or ostentatious, wasn’t at all similar to the elevated splendor the Greys were used to, but Annabel didn’t feel embarrassed. If Mrs. Grey didn’t like her home, she didn’t have to stay.
“I am Millicent Grey.”
“Yes, Mrs. Grey, my companion told me. What brings you by?”
“As if you didn’t know,” the old harridan griped. “The better question, Miss Fenwick, is: What do you want from us?”
“What do I want?”
“Yes. Please spell it out. Name your price so I can learn how much it will cost to make you go away.”
Annabel snorted with disgust. “You rich people are so annoying.”
“Don’t insult me, you irritating tart.”
Annabel ignored the slur. “Your son has asked me the very same a dozen times: What is my price? How much am I seeking? What is wrong with you? Why must you automatically assume I require financial payment?”
“Because you are a confidence artist and liar.”
“Don’t insult me, Mrs. Grey. This is my parlor, and I don’t have to put up with you. If you don’t mind your manners, I will bodily toss you out in the street.”
“I’m curious to discover where you found this boy you’ve pushed into our lives. Have you befriended any of the Lyndon servants who were fired after the incident with Caleb Grey?”
“No, I’m not acquainted with any of them.”
“A likely story,” Mrs. Grey scoffed. “I’m positive this is a scheme you have been hatching for years.”
“Are you?” Annabel sighed, refusing to be drawn
into the quarrel. “I won’t explain myself to you.”
“And I wouldn’t listen if you tried.”
“Did you inform Captain Grey that you were coming?”
“Who do you think sent me?”
“It wouldn’t have been the Captain.”
“How little you know, Miss Fenwick. He feels you and your brother are criminals, and he’s never believed a word you said.”
Annabel was a great judge of character and an expert at reading facial expressions. Mrs. Grey was lying through her teeth, and Annabel was simply eager for her to speak her piece then depart.
“Fine, Mrs. Grey. Captain Grey doesn’t believe me, and you are here to...what? I asked you when you first arrived, but you haven’t told me.”
“Can’t you guess? I will pay you to take your fake boy and vanish with him. Then you’ll swear you will never darken our door again.”
“You’re willing to bribe me?”
“Absolutely.”
“What makes you so sure I can be bribed? Perhaps I’m an honest woman who’s telling the truth and Caleb is home. If that’s the case, why would I agree to disappear with him? You could never pay me enough to go.”
“Let’s be frank, Miss Fenwick,” Mrs. Grey said.
“By all means.”
“I’ve conferred with Edward Boswell. He had many interesting comments to share about you and your brother. Michael, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t seen Mr. Boswell lately. How is the pompous ass?”
“Mind your tongue, Miss Fenwick.”
“Mind yours,” she countered. “He hasn’t garnered much esteem from the people in this household so don’t act as if he’s a saint. Your glowing tributes are wasted on me.”
“He said you’ve never understood your low place in the world. I now comprehend why he has that opinion.”
“Well, he’s an arrogant prig so he and I can be happy with our mutual loathing.”
Mrs. Grey was taken aback. With her wealth and status, she’d have spent her life lording herself over lesser mortals, and it was clear she’d expected to lord herself over Annabel too. But Annabel couldn’t be cowed, and she wouldn’t bow and scrape to a grumpy old crone like Millicent Grey.
“I visited Mr. Boswell,” Mrs. Grey said, “because I was anxious to be apprised as to what sort of person you were deep down.”
“Were you apprised?”
“Yes. He told me about your wanton, despicable father. He told me about your disreputable upbringing and your immoral habits. He told me about your paltry sister and how she snagged Mr. Boswell’s son.”
Annabel laughed. “If you’d ever met my sister, you’d realize she didn’t have the feminine wiles to snag anyone. Milton Boswell’s infatuation with her has always been a mystery.”
Mrs. Grey caustically studied Annabel. “Mr. Boswell will not allow you to drag his family through a scandal. Nor will I allow you to drag mine.”
“It’s not up to him—or you. From the evidence that’s been revealed, he is not Caleb’s grandfather. Besides, he detests Caleb. He’s probably celebrating at having been shed of him so easily.”
“How is he rid of this child? Are you presuming you will foist him off on me?”
“I’m not foisting him anywhere. He’s really Lord Lyndon so he’s quite a bit above you already, ma’am.”
“He is not—and will never be—Lord Lyndon. That position belongs to Benjamin and always has. It will never be bestowed on another. It will happen over my dead body.”
“I’ll attend your funeral,” Annabel flippantly retorted.
“Let’s get back to the issue of price, shall we?” Mrs. Grey said. “I wonder how you will view this situation once there’s hard money on the table.”
She opened her reticule and pulled out an envelope. As she gave it to Annabel, she was preening, smug in her conviction that Annabel was a duplicitous fraud—and she could be very duplicitous. If Mrs. Grey would stupidly offer a bribe, Annabel would take it but it didn’t mean she would shut up. The woman was an idiot.
Annabel counted the bills and smirked. “This isn’t very much. You’re demanding I relinquish an earldom for a hundred pounds.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for this hoax.”
“Yes, but think of all the messy publicity I could stir before the authorities arrived.”
Mrs. Grey’s brows rose to an alarming height. “You will not speak a word of this.”
“Is a hundred all you brought? I’ll need more than this.”
Mrs. Grey dithered and fumed, and ultimately she opened her purse again and handed over a second envelope.
“Two hundred isn’t enough either,” Annabel claimed, toying with the witch.
“It’s all I have.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to be content with the amount.”
“I have now purchased your complicity, Miss Fenwick. You will disappear, and you will be silent forever. Don’t try to double-cross me. Don’t gossip and don’t ever return to London or there will have to be consequences.”
“I absolutely hate consequences.” Annabel oozed sarcasm. “So I wouldn’t dream of double-crossing you.”
Mrs. Grey snorted with derision. “I told Benjamin you could be bought off, but he refused to believe it.”
“Say hello to him for me. Be sure to tell him we chatted.”
“I won’t give him your regards, Miss Fenwick, and be advised that whatever sort of...affair you were pursuing with him, it’s over. He will not see you again.”
“Yes, yes, he’s marching off to his wedding.”
“He’s marrying a girl who’s worth a thousand of you.”
“Are you certain about that? My brother has been trifling with Veronica for weeks. He’s found her to be loose and easy.”
It was a horrid comment, but Annabel couldn’t keep herself from uttering it. For just a moment, Mrs. Grey was unnerved, as if she might have observed Michael flirting with Veronica, but she quickly masked any concern.
“Shut your mouth, Miss Fenwick,” Mrs. Grey scolded. “I will not listen to your denigration of my future daughter-in-law. As opposed to you and your salacious ways, she is a genuine lady.”
“I hope that’s true. I’m fond of Captain Grey, and it would distress me to learn he’s unwittingly wed a strumpet, but when my brother sets his sights on a gullible female he can be quite persuasive.”
Again, Mrs. Grey was temporarily unnerved. She hid her apprehension by standing and gathering her things. “Goodbye, Miss Fenwick. And good riddance.”
“Good riddance to you too, Mrs. Grey.”
“I trust your name will never again be mentioned in my presence.”
“I promise it won’t be,” Annabel fibbed.
“We will not hear from you—on this matter or any other. Swear it to me.”
“Oh, I swear.”
Mrs. Grey stomped out, and when the door closed behind her, she blew out a heavy breath.
She went over to the window and spied on Mrs. Grey as she climbed into her coach. She’d traveled in their biggest, fanciest one, pulled by four white horses and attended by six outriders. Clearly, she was trying to intimidate Annabel, but unfortunately for her Annabel had never been intimidated in her life.
Peggy hustled in, asking, “Is she gone?”
“Yes.”
“Was it as unpleasant as I was expecting?”
“It was very unpleasant.”
“What did she want?”
“She bribed me to be silent, to vanish with Caleb.”
“She didn’t!”
“She did!”
“How much did she offer?”
“She started at a hundred pounds, but I bargained until she coughed up two hundred.”
“Two hundred pounds!”
“Yes. I probably could have walked away with more, but I didn’t want to seem greedy.”
Appearing worried, Peggy wrung her hands. “What about Caleb? Will you betray him? Will you leave with h
im as you agreed?”
Annabel scoffed. “Are you joking?”
“But...but...you accepted Mrs. Grey’s bribe.”
“Yes, but I was conning her. In my opinion, she’s an idiot. Why shouldn’t I take her money? She didn’t even put the terms in writing.”
“You looked her right in the eye and lied?”
“Yes.”
Peggy clucked her tongue. “You are so wicked, Miss Annabel.”
“I can’t help myself.” Annabel laughed and winked. “It’s a family trait.”
CALEB SAT ON THE steps in front of Annabel’s house. It was much smaller than Lydia’s, but it seemed so much larger. Annabel had colorful rugs and paintings. She opened the drapes in the day to let the sun shine in. Her home felt happy.
He’d never previously been permitted to stay with her, and he liked how he’d instantly fit in as if he’d always lived with her instead of Lydia.
He was watching the crowds go by, and the street was very busy, the neighborhood filled with interesting characters like Annabel herself. There were actors, writers, musicians, and other artistic types. He was enjoying every minute of being in London. He was finally back where he belonged.
With his past revealed, he suspected there was a buried part of him that remembered who he’d been. There was a part that understood he’d been in the wrong place. When Annabel and Miss Peggy had explained the situation, he hadn’t questioned them for a single second.
Of course that’s what happened. Of course...
The sentiment had wafted through his mind over and over, as if the two women had simply been pointing out facts he’d always known.
He knew too, without the slightest doubt, that Soloman was his brother and they would be together. His brother wasn’t yet ready to announce Caleb’s return to the world. He had a bit more investigating to complete, and he’d warned Caleb not to get too excited. But Caleb was just excited enough.
Eventually, they would retire to Lyndon Hall, the grand residence that was his own, and he’d been picturing the pretty suite of rooms he would offer to Annabel. In a life that had been dreary and dull with no one liking him or being even mildly polite, she’d been unfailingly kind, and he intended to reward her.
