Becca’s stomach churned but she remained silent.
“This is a chance for everyone to reveal all their secrets,” he added, staring at her. “Everyone.”
She looked down, picking an invisible bit of fluff from her skirt until Cayle sighed and turned instead to Michael.
“I’d hoped that you trusted us enough to speak freely about what the journals contained. It seems my cousin and brothers are already major investors and I’ve explained that I was involved in the construction of railway tracks on the continent.”
Before Michael could sit up, Becca spoke. “No, no, Michael. You rest.” She waved him back to the cushions and faced the men. “Very well, we’ll tell you all we know.”
“It’s well past time you told me the truth.”
Cayle glared at her with a grim expression that she tried to ignore. Despite their constant bickering, the thought of him being truly angry with her was sickening.
“We speculated a considerable sum of money into factories here in England that are building more tracks, at present for the Burgess Hill railway in west Sussex. Then we were given information that France doesn’t have enough track to complete the line from Paris to Roven, although the railway station at Rouen Saint-Sever is already under construction.”
“Thomas Brassey is a good friend,” Laura said. “When he was asked to build the link to Le Havre to join the Southampton ferry boat, Bec — ”
“Laura! You mean Michael and Jonathon,” Becca snapped.
“Oh, yes, yes of course.” She gave Becca an apologetic smile. “Our brothers calculated the risks and decided it was worthwhile gambling a large amount of our recent profits into this one big endeavour.”
Lottie chortled and rolled her eyes. “Becca thinks that having an inheritance will make Laura and I appear more attractive, as prospective wives.”
“Lottie, neither you nor Laura need anything but your considerable beauty to attract a husband.” Tony delivered his avowal with a flourish and his admiring gaze fixed on Lottie’s cheerful face. The other men groaned at his overdone adoration.
“Thank you, Tony.”
Lottie’s words made Tony flush with pleasure. Laura’s gaze went to Winchester, awaiting some similar comment but he looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.
“So,” Becca said, frowning her annoyance at Winchester for hurting her sister, “we’re about to invest a considerable sum there. Following that, we’ve been invited to join the development of the fourth line in Germany to extend an existing one from Leipzig to Althen.”
Becca was annoyed also with Cayle when he nodded agreement. “Damnation! By your expression, I see that none of this is a surprise. You already knew, didn’t you?”
He inclined his head. “A lot of it, yes.”
“And you said nothing to me?”
He shrugged, annoying Becca even more. “I suppose it’s time I revealed the extent of my own involvement with railways.”
“To use your own words, it’s well past time you told the whole truth,” Becca said after a little huff.
Cayle ignored her, something he did a lot of late and something she found increasingly annoying. The man was becoming insufferable. She had appealed to him for assistance, not domination.
“You knew we were investing in railways — ”
“Ah, but there you’re incorrect, my sweet.”
“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.”
The onlookers failed to smother their laughter.
“You, my prevaricating little friend, didn’t tell me it was railway expansion you were involved with. If you’d told me the truth from the beginning, I would’ve been more forthcoming.”
“Stuff and nonsense. Your patronising male beliefs, your pompous dukishness — ”
“Dukishness?” Cayle made a noise, half snort and half chortle. “I presume that’s another one of your sham words.”
“Your insufferable pride prevented you from sharing fiscal information with me, a mere … woman!”
Loud guffaws of laughter emitted from their amused observers. She glared at them all until they ceased, or attempted to stop, Laura placing a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle her giggles.
“Please ignore my ill-mannered sister, Cayle.” Lottie nudged her sister hard in the side. “Pray continue.”
Cayle returned Becca’s glare but smiled at Lottie. “It wasn’t only Britain suffering from railway mania two years ago. On the continent, it was almost as bad. My three friends and I took advantage of that and did some forward planning.
“As Becca mentioned, several countries needed immediate supplies if they were to develop at the same rate as Britain and America. But they’d seen the spate of train derailments here, and wanted to expand in a safer fashion. We shipped experienced workmen and base products from Britain. The navies, the engine builders, all of them.”
Winchester laughed. “When you told me you’d made some money on railways, I’d no idea how much. Now, I can see you’ve made quite a lot of money, probably as much as us, if not more.”
“Several of us made a tidy profit, which we were at pains to keep hidden,” Cayle agreed with a grin. “It’s ironic that while I was expanding on the continent my family and friends were here in London doing the same thing.”
“I see nothing amusing in that,” Becca snapped. “If you’d trusted me with the truth — ”
“Me! You came to me begging for assistance. Yet you didn’t confide in me. Oh, no. You told me half truths.”
Winchester made a show of clearing his throat. Michael groaned. Laura and Lottie exchanged knowing smiles despite the vile looks Becca shot in their direction.
“It’s late. Shall we finish our earlier discussion,” Brian said, trying to be tactful. “The majority on the list are minor investors. Mitchell has more money to play with and he wrings Melrose dry on a regular basis. But to trace this puppeteer pulling the strings, we need to follow the trail of money backwards. Discover where, and how, he works behind the scenes. Who else he’s using.”
“So you think your stepmother is having an affair with this man, a man with an elevated position?” Michael asked. “Are you certain?”
“No,” Brian admitted. “But we think there must be another man apart from the pathetic lovers she’s flaunting, a far more influential man, because Julia only seduces men who are dukes, or not far below that.”
Becca noticed that Cayle winced and looked at his brothers with pain in his eyes. “I didn’t realise you two knew.”
“Yes, we discovered that little sordid detail only after Julia had you driven out of England. She flung it at our father one night in one of her rages that she’d tried to seduce his son and heir.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Tony assured Cayle. “Best thing to happen to us. Made us join Winchester.”
Cayle swallowed and nodded his thanks at his brothers as Brian continued speaking. “He’s a man who knows how to covers his tracks well. A man who has far more wealth, and possibly higher position, at stake.”
“And therefore a far more dangerous man,” Winchester said.
“Maybe a government man, a spy in a previous life.”
“So far, we’ve been unable to uncover his identity,” Tony added. “Despite pumping every acquaintance for even a hint as to his name.”
“I’ll start my contacts on that line of inquiry as soon as I leave here,” Cayle said. All eyes were drawn to him, all understanding what he’d left unsaid until he gave a long sigh and added, “Very well, if you must know, yes, I asked some small questions for the government when I was visiting trade centres on the continent.” They all looked at him in expectation until he groaned. “I can tell you very little more except that no, I was not a spy, not in any official capacity, but my friends and I worked for those who ran a government service collecting various snippets of advice and … ”
When he froze mid sentence, Becca knew he’d reveal no more secrets, amazed that he’d volunteered even t
hat. Nods and shrugs and sipped drinks and fanned faces and unified silence, conveyed their message. Until Cayle understood. His mouth dropped open. “You all knew?” Around the circle, one by one, heads dipped. His eyes widened to saucers. “All of you?” Around the circle, together, variations of the same.
“I knew when my cousin — ”
“I’m your brother, not some idiot — ”
“We’re not young girls — ”
“Jamisons are intelligent — ”
“I’m younger, I’m not — ”
Cayle appeared to be suffering from shock as he turned to Becca. “Well? I’m sure you have something to say. Tell me what a fool I am, to not have known.”
She shrugged. “This has been enough of a jolt to your ego. I doubt Her Majesty’s government, nor you and your friends, ever imagined that a group of lowly London inhabitants could detect an expert spy hidden amongst us.”
Cayle groaned. “I had no idea. What gave me away?”
“Mainly the way you issue orders. Like a man used to being obeyed,” Laura said.
“And the stamp of your friends,” Brian added.
Becca nodded. “Plus, there was the casual way you announced that your contacts would look into the names of spies. In the middle of the night.”
“Damn. Have I been acting so dictatorially that others might have noticed?”
“No, only us,” Becca consoled him. “We’re family, more or less, so you’ve been more domineering with us than with others. And more demanding of me, than anyone.”
“Only because I care about you. All of you. You know that, don’t you?”
“We do understand, Cayle, really.” Lottie gave him her sweetest smile and threw her arms around his neck in a warm hug, making Becca grind her teeth with annoyance.
She pulled her sister off Cayle’s neck. “Now, let’s finish up here and find our beds.”
Very well,” Cayle agreed. “We’re all agreed that we need to end this uncertainty. If you ladies refuse to leave London — ”
“We do!” Becca said.
“Then we’ll increase pressure on the weakest links in the consortium chain. We’ll announce that in three days the Jamisons will disclose their findings. Anyone who wishes to join their next venture will be free to acquire shares by adding their name to their list at the coffee house behind the Bank of England at opening on Monday morning. That means that over the weekend, the puppet master, if there is one, will be forced to act.”
“Hopefully on his own initiative,” Becca said, “Without involving too many others. So we may flush him out into the open.”
“Tony and I will spread the rumour at different clubs.”
“And we’ll pay morning calls to as many friends as possible. Mention of our sudden influx of funds from new railway expansions should start a flurry amongst our friends’ male relatives,” Lottie added.
With arrangements in place, the men took their leave. Becca’s sisters saw Michael to his room before retiring to their own beds. Becca stood at the door where Cayle hesitated.
“Don’t fret over me. We’ll meet again when we attend the theatre tomorrow evening.”
“Becca, this is my last warning. If you put yourself in danger tomorrow, I’ll tie you up and send you off in my carriage. To somewhere far, far away.”
He bent to brush a light kiss over her pursed lips before she could object to his arrogant orders.
Her body responded as it always did to his nearness, to his touch, and she forgot to reprimand him. As he turned and walked out the door, her heart asked the same question it had wanted answered for years. “But will you stay with me this time?”
Chapter 12
Cayle returned to the theatre box with the footman following behind him carrying a tray of drinks. Something was wrong; he knew it. The back of his neck prickled as it did when he was in danger. Only this time, he sensed Becca was in trouble. The footman had, of course, chosen that moment to drop several glasses and then restarted pouring far too slowly for Cayle’s liking. Then, Julia had stopped him the corridor to speak of nothing of importance yet it still took him several minutes to escape.
With an impatient grasp, he tugged aside the curtain and searched the box. No Becca. He’d known it. Trying to remain calm, he bent to his brother’s ear and whispered, “Where is she?”
Brian understood immediately and grinned, as he replied, “Can’t tolerate letting her out of your sight for a minute, can you? You, my dear brother, are smitten.”
Cayle’s glare would shrivel a lesser man but his brother merely grinned wider and took his time answering. “The delectable Lady Rebecca — ” Cayle snarled at him. “ — and Laura, went to the retiring room.”
“How long ago?”
Realising Cayle was serious, Brian straightened. “Actually, some little time ago. They should’ve returned.”
With a quick signal to Tony, all three men slipped out of the box. Cayle hissed in annoyance, “You should’ve accompanied them.”
Brian looked surprised. “To the women’s area? Not acceptable, Cayle. You know that.”
Of course he knew that but worry clouded his judgment and robbed him of rational thought. “Becca can be scatterbrained when it comes to her own welfare,” Cayle muttered, half to himself. “If she’s giving investment advice or working out a mathematical problem, she wanders away without thought to where she is going. Or whom she’s going with.”
“We’ll find them, don’t worry.”
Nevertheless, Cayle did worry. Becca was his responsibility whether she admitted it or not. He should have taken better care of her. His worry increased even more when Laura hurried towards them, alone. Cayle pounced, demanding in a frantic voice, “Where is she?”
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know. We’d left the retiring room and were walking along the corridor when two gentlemen pushed into me and tried to snatch the strings of my reticule. I hung onto it but I fell against the wall and was stunned for a moment. By the time I recovered and cleared my vision, both the men and Becca were gone. Vanished.”
• • •
Cayle prided himself on retaining a cool head but all thoughts fled now except one. He had to find her, know she was safe. Lock her in her bedchamber. Tie her to her bed. And then, he’d wring her neck for frightening him half to death. The men split up, Anthony quizzing passing footmen and Laura and Brian retracing her steps and looking into all the boxes along the way.
Cayle sprinted straight down the corridor to the retiring room and with a shocking disregard for propriety, flung aside the heavy curtaining and entered.
A footman called to him, “Hoi! You can’t go there.”
Ignoring the scandalised footman, Cayle rushed in, only to have his greatest fear recognised. On the floor of one of the curtained areas, Becca lay sprawled at an awkward angle and with her belongings scattered around her. Dropping to one knee, Cayle rolled her gently, brushing back her dishevelled hair to search her face for injury.
“Becca, sweetheart, speak to me.”
Nothing happened for a moment and his chest constricted so tightly that he could barely breathe. He crouched beside her and patted her hand. “Please, my love, say something.” She whimpered and made a slight movement with one arm. Her groan of pain was the most exquisite sound he’d ever heard. Her eyes flickered opened and she tried to sit up, clutching her neck, but he held her in place with a gentle hand.
“Hurts,” she said in a raspy voice. “Throat.”
He moved her hands aside enough to see the dark markings where crushing fingers had held her around the throat tightly enough to bruise.
“The bastards cut off your air. You must have passed out. When I catch them, I’ll cut off their — ”
“Ahhh!”
With Becca glaring at him, he swallowed down his words. But thoughts of how much worse it may have been, what else they may have done to Becca, lingered in his head. For long minutes, he’d thought her kidnapped or worse, perhaps dead, and his own
heart had stopped beating. The heart he thought he’d protected with a hard shell for several years, cracked. Cracked so hard it was a wonder the others couldn’t hear. But he couldn’t take the time to think about the ramifications of his splintering core.
• • •
Laura and his brothers arrived in a rush and clustered around. Cayle’s first concern was to remove Becca from danger. With little effort he scooped her slight frame up into his arms, but as he strode for the door her feeble voice stopped him in his tracks.
“No. Not outside. Seen. Gossip.”
Even when in danger, Becca never stopped considering others. Her uppermost thought was always to protect her family from unwanted attention. And to protect him. He nodded his understanding. “Laura, go and fetch your aunt. Tell her Becca needs her. Brian go with her. Tony, you stand guard at the door. Keep everyone else out.”
Carefully, as if she was the world’s most precious cargo, he placed her on the chaise lounge with a cushion beneath her head. But the strain of the last months — the horror of seeing Becca lying as if dead — was too much.
His whole body shook with rage. He was furious with himself for not removing her from danger or taking the escalating threats to her safety to the authorities days ago. Angry that men had attacked her when she was under his protection. A gentleman of honour would ensure a lady was safe at all times, especially if it was the woman he was pretending to be betrothed to. She was attacked while he was in the same building. While Julia waylaid him in the corridor, Becca had almost been killed.
Remembering the fright she’d just endured, he damped down his turbulent emotions and spoke as gently as to a child, while his fingers stroked down her cheek in a soothing motion.
“Tell me what happened. Who hurt you?”
“Two men. Grabbed me … from behind … dragged me backwards … retiring room … snatched my reticule.” She rubbed at her wrist and he noticed the red marks encircling her fragile bones. He bent his head to the spot and spread light kisses around the red circle. So intent was he upon the injury done to her, still so angry that he allowed this to happen, that he almost missed her whispered words.
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