Deception in Emeralds (Ransomed Jewels Book 4)

by Laura Landon

  “Good night, my dear,” he answered.

  She practically danced up the steps, so grateful was she that he had not attempted to kiss her good night.

  Chapter 6

  Barnaby slept very little after their first evening in Radburn’s company. The vision of Millicent rushing to Radburn’s side when she saw him on the terrace refused to go away. She was playing her part to perfection, and every time Radburn held her, or smiled at her, or looked at her with a possessive gleam in his eyes, Barnaby wanted to beat the man to a bloody pulp.

  But he’d managed restraint so far, for Millicent. For her sake he would accomplish their mission as quickly as possible and see that Radburn was hanged for the traitor—as well as the murderer—he was.

  As Radburn’s carriage rambled over the estate, Barnaby created a mental map of the areas Radburn showed them. And the areas he avoided. Barnaby hoped the parts of the estate they weren’t allowed to see held a significance. But as they traveled from one part of the estate to the other, Barnaby realized Radburn hadn’t avoided showing them any part of it.

  They traveled across the meadows of Westview Park, then past fields, and along a quiet stream that ran though the estate. They stopped when they reached the stream and ate the picnic luncheon Radburn’s cook had prepared for them. It was perfect, of course.

  When they finished, they continued the tour of Westview Park. Radburn pointed out several unique areas, although, in Barnaby’s opinion, there was nothing so remarkable that Radburn should choose it for his bride’s new home. Unless, that is, the estate served another purpose, and that purpose was its location.

  As they covered the estate, Barnaby reaffirmed to himself that the caves beneath the cliffs of Westview Park would provide the perfect place to load and unload the contraband that Radburn was reported to have. Foreign ships could arrive empty in the dark of night and leave loaded with explosives.

  Barnaby pulled his attention from the mental map he was creating to listen to the conversation between Radburn and Millicent.

  “I have a special surprise for you,” Radburn said to Millicent. “A gift of sorts.”

  “It’s not necessary for you to lavish me with gifts, my lord. I don’t expect gifts.”

  “I know you don’t, my dear. Which is why I enjoy giving them. But this is something special.”

  Millicent tilted her head in Radburn’s direction and smiled. The smile seemed sincere, and Barnaby thought how difficult it must be for her to show him affection, knowing what he’d done.

  “This gift isn’t something you can wear,” he said, turning the carriage into a secluded area lush with trees and bushes. “But something I’m sure you will cherish.”

  He stopped the carriage before the opening of a wrought iron fence. Wildflowers bloomed in abundance along the fence, as well as on either side of a stone path that wound through the manicured space. It was most unexpected on this windswept coast.

  Radburn dismounted and turned to assist Millicent to the ground. Barnaby followed as Radburn escorted Millicent down the path.

  A surreal quiet blanketed the enclosed area. A sense of peacefulness that was impossible to dismiss. High stone walls encircled the space below a towering, curving bluff that effectively blocked the sea wind, creating a sudden respite from the sounds of the ocean that crashed on massive rocks below.

  It was indeed a welcome sanctuary, even situated as it was on a rugged promontory.

  Ancient maple trees stretched out their branches to envelope the vicinity in shaded serenity. The stone path they traveled turned to the right. As they rounded the curve, Barnaby saw the gift Radburn was giving his betrothed. So did Millicent. Her footsteps faltered, and Radburn wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

  A massive stone monument stood before them in majestic boldness. Millicent’s family name, along with her father’s title, was engraved in elegantly scrolled letters across the face of the large stone. The marker was as large as any monument he’d ever seen, and the letters skillfully etched.

  Millicent’s hands clamped to her mouth to smother the cry that came from deep within her. She looked at the tombstone, then lifted her tear-filled gaze to Lord Radburn.

  Without speaking, she stepped to the private gravesite.

  Barnaby wanted to rush to her side when her steps faltered, but Radburn anticipated her misstep and reached her first. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close to him.

  Millicent leaned against him and allowed him to hold her—not from affection, but as the result of being so overcome by emotion that she didn’t really realize that Radburn was holding her.

  A painful weight tightened in Barnaby’s gut. Every muscle in his body knotted as he forced himself to hold his ground and not rush forward to pull her out of Radburn’s arms. How dare he build a memorial to Millicent’s slain family when he was the one who was responsible for their deaths?

  After several moments, Millicent stepped out of Radburn’s arms. With tears streaming down her face, she slowly walked forward.

  Four smaller markers had been placed in front of the large stone, each one denoting a member of Millicent’s family who’d tragically died.

  Barnaby couldn’t stand back any longer. He stepped closer to be near her if she happened to need him.

  Millicent reached out a trembling hand to trace her fingers over the letters etched on the first marker.

  Beloved Father

  Randolph Edward Arthur Chandler, 6th Earl of Renfrew

  Then she moved enough to place her fingers over the letters etched on the next marker.

  Beloved Mother

  Mary Pilkington Chandler, Countess of Renfrew

  Tears streamed down her face as she lovingly caressed the letters. Then she moved to a spot between the third and fourth markers.

  Beloved Brother

  Thomas Tristan Randolph Chandler, Viscount Shandley

  Millicent ran her fingers over her brother’s marker, then turned to her younger sister’s.

  Beloved Sister

  Pauline Isadora Chandler

  Millicent knelt in front of her family’s graves for several minutes. Neither Radburn nor Barnaby interrupted her. Barnaby knew she needed time to grieve. Knew she needed time to come to terms with the magnitude of Radburn’s actions. Erecting a monument for her family on the property where he expected her to spend the rest of her life was a thoughtful thing to do. Something a husband would do for his wife.

  Barnaby raked his hand down his face. Giving her a lasting connection to her family seemed proof of how Radburn revered the woman he intended to marry. It was almost as if he…loved Millicent.

  Barnaby considered that thought. Was Radburn capable of love? Was the man who intended to sell enough explosives to kill thousands of innocent people capable of love? Or was this something else? Perhaps an act to appease the guilt he felt after killing the people Millicent loved?

  It seemed an eternity before Millicent stirred and rose to her feet.

  Radburn rushed to her side to steady her.

  Millicent remained in Radburn’s arms for several moments, then stepped away from him. Her eyes were filled with tears, her face strained with emotion. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her voice was husky, and her words trembled.

  As did his.

  “I know how much you miss your . . . your family, and how alone you must feel. I . . . I had hoped that having a place where you could go to . . . feel closer to them would help.”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Thank you.”

  Millicent didn’t seem at all aware of Radburn’s emotion that to Barnaby was merely a theatrical display of sympathy. She even seemed to have been taken in by it. Her gaze rested for several more seconds on the stones where her family’s names were etched, then she turned. The pain in her eyes punched Barnaby with the force of a siege engine pummeling against what should have been an impenetrable fortress. His heart shattered in his chest.

  She took one step toward him, then went to
his open arms.

  He held her trembling body, and she buried her face against his chest. Something was not right with what had just happened, but Barnaby was at a loss to know what it was. And there was nothing he hated more than being confused.

  . . .

  The night was overcast, the clouds heavy and thick. It was a perfect night to search the grounds without being seen. Which was exactly what Barnaby was doing.

  He’d made his way around the manor house, taking in the distance from one exit to the next. He’d measured off the wall that surrounded the perfectly manicured garden at the back of the house. He’d made note of the entrances and exits—the ones used by guests and members of the household, as well as the ones used by the staff and village shop owners when they delivered goods to Westview Park.

  The point that most drew his attention was the number of hired guards surrounding the house. Armed guards. The fact that the grounds were so heavily secured affirmed the fact that Radburn was involved in something he didn’t want the outside world to know about.

  It was obvious to anyone who’d been in this business as long as Barnaby had that the men patrolling the area were professionals. They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot an intruder.

  “What have you found?”

  Will Griffin’s low whisper signaled that he’d reached the location of their rendezvous.

  “Nothing. Except enough guards to man the royal treasury,” Barnaby whispered. “You?”

  “There’s a dungeon.”

  Barnaby hunkered down near Will and turned an inquisitive eye to the man, who was dressed to pass unobserved in the night. “A dungeon.”

  “Just beyond the buttery in the basement, but it’s a dungeon, all right.” Will shifted. “And it’s not empty.”

  Barnaby turned his full attention to Will.

  “Frenchmen. Three of them. Dunno why they’re there.”

  Barnaby grinned. “Frenchmen? Being held by Radburn? Very interesting, Griffin. Very interesting indeed.”

  Across the paddock from where they hid, a cigarette flared. The guards were making their rounds.

  Will clapped Barnaby quietly on the back. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Barnaby nodded. “Meet me here again tomorrow night.”

  Barnaby crept back to the house, carefully avoiding the circuit he knew the patrol would make. He moved silently up the back stairway to his room, opened the door, stepped in, then stopped. He wasn’t alone.

  “Did you discover anything suspicious?” Millicent asked.

  His heart slammed against his ribs. His first reaction was anger. “Do you know the risk you’re taking in coming here?”

  She didn’t answer him for several long seconds, and when she spoke, it wasn’t to answer his question, but to ask one of her own. “Why did he do it?” she asked.

  Barnaby walked to where she’d waited in a stuffed wing chair near the window. She sat with her knees tucked to her chest and her hands clasped around the quilt she’d thrown over her legs.

  There wasn’t room beside her, so he sank down to the floor near her and rested his back against the wall.

  He knew what she was asking. She wanted to know why Radburn had constructed a memorial to her family. How he’d known that it would be important to her to have a place to go where she could be near them. Why would he be so considerate when he was the one who had killed them?

  “I don’t know,” Barnaby answered.

  “But you’ve wondered the same thing, haven’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s bothered me, too.”

  “Then why? Why do you think he did it?”

  Barnaby hesitated for several moments, considering how to answer. He’d thought of several possibilities, but none of them gave him any peace of mind. “Perhaps to ease his guilt.”

  She shook her head. “If Radburn is a cold-hearted, manipulative killer, and if he’s truly involved with selling explosives that will murder hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people, then I can’t believe he has a conscience that would permit him to feel guilty about anything.”

  “Then why do you think he did it?”

  “Perhaps to make me more malleable. Perhaps so I will be more content living here.”

  Barnaby didn’t say more. Her explanation was possible, but there was more. There had to be another reason. An uncomfortable shiver raced down his spine.

  “What?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “Perhaps Lord Radburn’s purpose is to please you. Perhaps he cares for you at some level, and wants to feel that you return those sentiments.”

  “If that was his reason, then he failed. The only emotion I will ever feel for him is loathing.”

  “I know you believe he was responsible for your family’s deaths.”

  “I more than believe he was. I have proof.”

  Barnaby turned his head to face her. “What proof?”

  He heard her heavy sigh and waited for her to speak. “During my London Season, I formed a close friendship with four girls who had their coming-out the same year as I did. One of them, Lady Constance Phinney, became betrothed and was planning to be married. Because life was going to change for us, and we would most likely not have a chance to be together again, we chose to spend two weeks together one last time at Lady Constance’s country home. While I was there, I received a letter from my father.

  “He ordered me to stay where I was and not come home. Father said it wasn’t safe for me to be there. He also told me to avoid any association with the Earl of Radburn.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No, other than the fact that the earl had taken possession of Westview Park by then. Perhaps Father had observed something illegal the earl was doing. Perhaps Radburn had threatened Father. If that was it, Father didn’t mention it in the letter.”

  “Do you have the letter with you?”

  She shook her head. “I gave it to Major McCormick.”

  “How well did you know the Earl of Radburn? Had you formed a friendship with him during your Season?”

  “I’d seen him at several of the events, but I didn’t think he even noticed me. We’d never as much as shared a conversation.”

  “Then why do you think he asked for your hand?”

  “I have no idea. Perhaps it has something to do with Cliffside. It borders Radburn’s land to the south, and he wants it. It isn’t entailed, and Papa told me that I could live there if I ever needed it. He wanted to make sure I had some place to live and wouldn’t be dependent on Thomas. The family seat, Renfrew Estate, was entailed and would have passed down to my brother when he assumed the title.”

  “Did your father say anything else in his letter?”

  Millicent nodded, then released a shuddering sigh. “He said that he was going to send Mother, Thomas, and Polly to London so they’d be safe, then he was going to go to the authorities.”

  “Do you know why your father was going to the authorities?”

  “No. That was all Father wrote. Except to tell me not to return until it was safe. But there was a fire that night that destroyed Cliffside, and . . . killed my family.”

  Millicent pushed herself to her feet, and Barnaby rose to be near her. She’d turned away from him to hide the tears he knew filled her eyes. But he refused to let her endure her pain alone, as he was sure she had since her family had been killed.

  He turned her, then wrapped his arms around her and nestled her against him.

  She buried her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He held her for several moments, then placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head upward. Their gazes locked, and he lowered his head and kissed her.

  The meeting of their lips caused a storm of emotion inside his body. The passion that surged through him was overpowering. Almost uncontrollable.

  Their lips met. She opened her mouth to him, and their tongues touched with welcome familiarity.

  Barnaby’s heart raced in h
is chest, thundering as if it might shatter. He shifted his hold on her, running his hands up and down her spine, then wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her thinly clad body close to him.

  The feel of her belly, hips, and thighs against him was nearly his undoing. He kissed her long and hard. Then, with a harsh sigh, he lifted his mouth from hers and ended the kiss.

  Her legs buckled, and he pulled her close to support her. Her breathing came in delicate, uneven gasps, and he held her until she calmed. Her body trembled, and he ran his palms over her flesh until she settled.

  “You need to return to your room,” he whispered, hesitant to release her. He wanted to keep her in his arms. Against his body.

  She stepped away and softly walked to the door. She stopped with her hand on the latch. “Did you find anything that might be important?”

  “Nothing other than the curious fact that there are more guards watching the house than guards patrolling the Queen’s palace.”

  “What do you think that means?”

  He shook his head. “I won’t know until I discover if their purpose is to keep someone from entering, or someone from escaping.”

  “Since we’re the only guests at the moment, it’s frightening to think it might be the latter.”

  Yes, frightening, Barnaby thought after Millicent had returned to her room.

  Chapter 7

  Millicent was finally able to push her loathing for Radburn far enough beneath the surface that she could play her part without her emotions getting in the way. She would have preferred to avoid him, but that wouldn’t help her get the information she needed. Nor would that allow her to keep him occupied so Barnaby could search the house and the grounds for clues that would lead them to the hidden stash of explosives.

  The somewhat playful air she’d adopted seemed to be working, and Radburn found more and more time to be with her. Today was the third day they’d been here, and a routine had begun to develop. Each morning, she would join Radburn for breakfast. Once Barnaby had been there. Once he had not. Millicent wasn’t sure if he joined them after he’d been awake all night searching for clues, or if it meant that he was already up and had gone for a morning ride. This morning, both Barnaby and Radburn were in the breakfast room when she entered.