by Desconocido
The hair on Penelope’s arms was standing up again and she knew that, although his voice was almost pleasant, her uncle was furious. “I believe they have. I just do not know…” She stopped speaking as she saw the ghost of Mrs. Pettibone standing near the fireplace with her head hanging in shame. “Oh, Mrs. Pettibone, did you steal it?”
Nay. He did. He said he was your brother. Said you were trying to steal from him and all. He gave me a little each time I took a packet.
Penelope blinked. That had to be one of the most understandable conversations she had ever had with a ghost. It was obvious that what she had done had weighed on Mrs. Pettibone for a very long time.
“It is fine, Mrs. Pettibone, I forgive you.”
The children?
Clearly Mrs. Pettibone’s skill with words had already faded. “They will forgive you, too. It is not your fault that you believed Charles. He is very persuasive and you have been taught that a man rules.”
Aye. They do.
Penelope was not about to get in an argument with a ghost about that although a part of her wanted to. “Find your peace, Mrs. Pettibone.”
Hell. I am a thief.
“Nay, you were lied to. It is Charles who will pay. Let go, my dear. Let go.”
When Mrs. Pettibone suddenly smiled beatifically and slowly faded, Penelope looked at her aunt and uncle. “Charles told Mrs. Pettibone some tale about me stealing from him. I suspect the and all includes many a slander upon my reputation and good reasons why he could not just take me to a magistrate. So, she took any packet she could get ahold of and gave it to him. He always gave her a little money to show his immense gratitude. Why the woman did not stop and ask why, if I was stealing from him, I was posting the money to myself instead of just carrying it to the house, I do not know.” Penelope knew her voice was tart and short with bitterness but she could not help it. Charles had stolen from her boys, and for that, she wanted to see him pay.
She frowned. “It was odd. The first thing she said was clear and precise. No rhymes, no short words that give a clue but not enough. She spoke to me as if she were right here, alive. Yet when she first appeared, she was just like the others, and after she made her little confession, she went back to short sentences or one word. Has not said a word in between then and now, either.”
“Perhaps she was just saving her strength, practicing what she needed to say so that she could confess it all quickly and clearly,” said Ashton, and then he shrugged. “It was just a thought.”
“A very good one. I may see ghosts and speak with them but I fear the only thing I am sure of about them is that they almost all seek peace.”
“The man who stole from our children will pay us back,” said Argus. “And I will see that Septimus is given a nice sum to make up for wages lost to the bastard.”
“Thank you, Uncle. Sad to say, I am not sure there will be any of the money to retrieve. It was undoubtedly spent on fine clothes, fine wines, carriages, and horses. The trappings that Charles so loves.”
“Then we will take our money back in trade.”
“We can plan that out later, Argus,” said Olympia. “I want to see this solicitor.”
“Once my curiosity about the will was roused again, I began trying to arrange a meeting with him,” said Penelope. “I started by writing a letter every other day, then every day, then two a day.” She shrugged. “Yesterday I sent him four.”
“Perhaps he has not replied because he is buried beneath the letters,” drawled Olympia.
“I have things to do today,” said Argus, “but we will all hunt the man down on the morrow. Has anyone tried to find the will at Salterwood House?”
“It is called Hutton-Moore House now,” said Penelope and almost smiled when her uncle fell into a low muttering of curses. Perhaps she had erred in not sending word to her relatives about her troubles.
“And I need to visit with the boys and little Juno,” said Olympia.
“Juno?” Argus frowned. “A girl?”
Penelope explained who Juno was. “She is still a little uncertain but the boys are already very protective of her.”
“Damn. A girl. Best write to Quintin. He may still be sending money to that bitch to pay for the girl and it had best come to you now.”
“Of course.” She smiled faintly. “I wonder if her dear mother considered her loss of income when she so callously rid herself of her daughter.”
“She will be made aware of it very soon and I would not wish to be her when Quintin finds out what she did.”
Penelope winced. Her cousin was well known for his temper. However, if the woman had a change of heart simply because her purse was now lighter, she would find that she had lost all chance of retrieving her little girl. Penelope would never let that woman near Juno again.
“We will be staying with you,” said Olympia but she was staring at Ashton.
Ashton nearly grimaced. He had finally been able to get Penelope back into his arms and now she would be taken away from him again. Argus was grinning at him and Ashton had a strong urge to kick the man.
“Bit like shutting the stable door after the mare has fled, Olympia,” Argus drawled as he stood up and started toward the door. “Never thought you a prude.”
“Someone should be in this family,” she called after him but he just laughed as the door swung shut behind him. “You may leave now,” she said to Ashton.
Penelope grasped him by the arm when he began to stand up and held him in his seat. “Nay. This is my house, Auntie. I am one and twenty and not a child. As my uncle so indelicately put it, the mare has fled. I know what I am doing would be frowned on by everyone in society if it was discovered, but so would taking care of the illegitimate children of my relatives. I want my time with Ashton,” she said quietly and he grasped her hand in his. “I need it and for once in my life I intend to do what I want.”
“Fine.” Olympia stood up. She walked around the table and looked into Ashton’s eyes. “Stay. But if you break my niece’s heart, I will make you very sorry you were ever born.” She patted Penelope on the head and then strode out of the room.
“Your aunt is a very beautiful woman,” Ashton said quietly.
Penelope suffered a sharp pinch of jealousy. “Aye, she is.”
He nodded. “She is also very scary.”
“True, she is.”
“My mother would love her.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
Chapter Seventeen
“This seems a poor place for a solicitor,” muttered Olympia. “I cannot believe your father would entrust his money and important papers to a man who lived in such squalor.”
Penelope slid her hand into Ashton’s and stared at the building. It was a squalid place in a squalid area. Then she frowned. There was also someone dead in there.
“Best we go on up and see the fool,” said Argus, starting toward the door, Darius at his heels.
“Nay,” Penelope said. “At least not with Darius. Someone is dead in there.” She was not surprised to hear Ashton and Argus curse; they seemed to come up against a wall everywhere they turned.
“The solicitor?” Ashton asked.
“I am not certain.”
She stepped back and stared up at the filthy windows. Some were broken and the holes had been stuffed with anything at hand. It was not until her gaze reached the fourth floor that she saw something. At first she thought it was just that one window up there was amazingly clean but then she saw something move. From what little she could recall from the reading of the will, it was the solicitor in the window, or rather, his spirit. Her stomach churned a little. He had not died easily.
“Mr. Horace Earnshaw is dead,” she said.
“Feared that was it,” muttered Argus while Olympia just kept staring at the window, a look of deep concentration on her face.
Help me.
“Too late,” she murmured and then looked at Darius. “Do you recall the Bow Street man who led the others at Mrs. Cra
tchitt’s?”
Darius nodded. “Mr. Dobson.”
“Can you go and get him? Tell him that I have found another body and bring him here.”
“I will go with him,” said Ashton. “If you do not mind, I believe we will take the carriage.”
Argus nodded. “Good idea. This is a dangerous area.”
“We will go as fast as we can,” said Darius as he jumped into the carriage with Ashton.
“Should we not go up there?” Argus asked as the carriage rolled away. “We could find some of the papers we need to look at.”
Olympia slowly shook her head. “Only the will and Penelope shall have to try to get the man’s spirit to tell her where it is. Everything else was taken. Poor fool took a long time to die but he did do one last good thing. He did not tell them where that will was.”
Help me.
“I cannot, sir,” Penelope said, staring up at the forlorn and gruesome ghost. “You must accept what has happened to you.”
“How long do you think it will take Darius and Ashton to fetch that Dobson man back here?” asked Olympia, glancing around with a frown and slowly extracting a pistol from her reticule.
“Not very long, I should think. With all that happened at the brothel, I made him and his men a tidy sum. The merchants had gathered rewards for two of their own who had gone missing. Dobson thought there might be more to come if they can match the bodies, at least some of them, to a list of missing people they have.”
“I had not realized they did that sort of thing.”
“They do a great many things. Dobson, and I am ashamed that I never asked his name, told me a great deal about them as I marked where more bodies were buried. I had not realized just how much but will certainly keep them in mind if I ever have trouble in the future. I but wish he could have gained some rewards for finding someone alive,” she added quietly.
“Have you been to question Mrs. Cratchitt about who paid her to have you kidnapped?” asked Argus.
“Ashton says he will try to do that,” Penelope replied, “but he has been warned that she is not being cooperative. At least she was not when they took her away. ’Tis not as if helping anyone will save her from a hanging.”
“I will go with Ashton when he goes to see the bitch,” said Argus. “She will tell me what we need to know.”
“Penelope, my dear,” Olympia said, “you do realize what the murder of the solicitor means, do you not?”
“That someone fears we are getting too close to the truth.”
“Yes, and that puts you in a great deal of danger.”
Penelope sighed and nodded. “I know, but considering all that has happened to me thus far, I think I have been in a great deal of danger for a while. I was wondering on it and think that Charles can no longer wait to get his hands on everything. He has debt, perhaps, or is just greedy. The latter I think. We have been most careful since I was shot.”
“You have and the fact that Lord Radmoor has saved your life three times and Paul’s once and done his best to protect you is why I did not pummel him the moment I realized he had seduced you,” Argus said.
“I think the seduction was mutual.” Penelope blushed when her uncle grinned.
“You love him.”
“A great deal.”
“Well, let us hope we find that you still have enough left to solve his problems.”
“I do not know what of my inheritance will be left, but I do know if we prove Charles has attempted to kill me, has killed Mr. Earnshaw, and has stolen from me, that he will be completely discredited. Enough proof and he will hang or be transported. Then I may help Ashton in a very big way.”
“How?”
“I will hold those cursed markers then, will I not, and I can burn them.”
Ashton hopped down from the carriage after Dobson and his two men did, then swung Darius down. The boy raced to his father’s side. Argus put his arm around the boy as Penelope talked to Dobson. From what little he had seen since Argus had arrived, the man truly did love his child, and appeared to be very fond of the other children, too. Now that he knew Argus and the others had been sending money, a goodly sum by the sound of it, his anger over the way the children had been left in Penelope’s care faded. They had sent her more than enough to have hired plenty of servants. However, he still thought the Wherlocke and Vaughn men could be more cautious. Ashton was not certain he believed Penelope’s assurances that they were, but that they were just too damn fertile.
He scowled when yet again the image of Penelope rounding with his child slipped through his mind. It was not good for him to have such dreams but he could not shake free of them. Ashton looked at Penelope and hurried to her side for she looked pale. Whatever had happened to Earnshaw had obviously not been pleasant. He took her hand in his just as Dobson and his men started to go into the building. The Wherlockes began to follow but Dobson turned to face them.
“I think you lot ought to stay here,” Dobson said.
“No,” said Argus. “I believe you need us to go with you.”
Ashton shivered. Argus’s eyes were like fathomless dark pools and his voice stroked one’s mind. The man was dangerous. He could turn any person’s mind so cloudy he spilled every secret he had. To Ashton’s astonishment, Dobson just scowled at the man.
“I ain’t sure what you be doing but you can just stop it,” Dobson growled and then eyed Argus warily when the man grinned. “Fine. You can come in as I might be needing Lady Penelope’s help, but I think the boy best stay here.”
Darius started to protest but his father sent him to the carriage with a few quiet words. As the boy scrambled up on the box next to the driver, he did not appear to be disappointed.
“Do you know who your family is, Dobson?” Argus asked as they climbed the dark, narrow stairs.
“Nay. First clear memory I got is some small orphanage run by a harsh besom named Mrs. Creed. Why?”
“Because very few people can tell what I am doing to them and resist it. Mostly ones in our family.”
Dobson snorted as he opened the door to the solicitor’s rooms. He stopped abruptly and then cursed. “Poor sod.” He looked back at Olympia and Penelope. “’Tain’t pretty.”
“We know,” said Olympia, and Dobson shrugged before leading them all inside.
Ashton took one look at the remains of Horace Earnshaw and nearly followed Dobson’s two retching men back out of the room. He put his arm around Penelope when she swayed a little. Olympia paled, hesitated a moment, but then slowly began to walk around the room. Argus stood, hands on his hips, and stared down at the mess that used to be a man.
“That ghostie here, m’lady?” asked Dobson.
“Aye,” Penelope replied as she stepped closer to the desk, holding Ashton’s hand tightly. “He does not understand. He cries and asks me to help him.”
“No help could fix this mess. See if you can get him to tell you what happened and who did this. Weren’t no common thieves.” He crouched by the body. “Common thieves just stick a knife in you, take what you got, and leave. They don’t be lurking about taking little pieces off a man.”
Argus crouched on the other side of the body. “Did the face first.”
“Mr. Earnshaw,” Penelope began, wanting to shut out the rather gruesome conversation her uncle and Dobson were having concerning the solicitor’s body.
Help me.
“I cannot. Look at your earthly remains, Mr. Earnshaw. There is no help I can give you save to help you find peace.”
Bastard.
“Who? Who did this to you?”
He had them hurt me.
“Mr. Earnshaw, do you not wish the man to pay for causing you so much pain?”
He watched. Enjoyed it.
Penelope shivered at the thought that anyone could enjoy seeing what had been done to Mr. Earnshaw. She rubbed her forehead as she struggled to think of some way to pry the information she needed out of a ghost. They were not known for being cooperative or even very cohere
nt.
“Mr. Earnshaw, do you know who I am?”
Salterwood’s brat.
“And you have been cheating me for years, have you not?”
Needed money.
“But you did not do it alone, did you. Who helped? Who shared in the theft?”
Charles.
Penelope pushed down a surge of excitement. Charles was a very common name. She needed more.
“Charles who?”
Bastard. Wanted it all.
“All of what?”
Salterwood’s fortune.
“Charles did?”
Bastard. Hid some.
“Hid some what?”
Papers. In the floor.
“Where in the floor?”
Under board. Third from left.
“And Charles wanted those papers?”
The ghost nodded. Bastard.
“Mr. Earnshaw, you will find peace if you unburden yourself.”
Did. Under floor.
Penelope saw the ghost suddenly cringe in terror and she cursed softly as he disappeared. Sometimes, she thought darkly, all her gift gave her was a headache. It was also obvious from the look on the spirit’s face that Earnshaw had committed more sins than stealing from his clients for it had not been the look of a soul about to find peace.
She looked at Ashton and frowned. He was looking a little pale. Then she heard the conversation Dobson and Argus were having as they crouched by the body. The two men were still calmly discussing which parts of poor Mr. Earnshaw had been cut first. Her stomach roiled and she fixed her attention on her aunt.
“It was Charles but Mr. Earnshaw did not give me his surname so it does us no good,” she told Olympia.
“No. Too many named Charles.” Olympia sighed. “There were three of them. One leaned against the desk while the other two cut the poor fool at his direction. They gagged him so that his screams would go unheard. Not that that would have caused them very much trouble in this place.”
Dobson stood up and looked at Olympia with interest. “You got the sight, too?”
“Not like Penelope. What I see is the shadows of what happened especially if it was violent. Unfortunately, the shadows are not always clear enough to see faces. Mr. Earnshaw endured for a long time but then his heart failed when they threatened to castrate him.” She smiled faintly when all three men winced. “The will is here.”
