by Lora Thomas
Josephine snorted in disgust. “Their actions were disgraceful. She had only recently widowed and took back up with Timothy. Just two weeks after her husband’s death. You were just a babe when he moved her into his home, claiming she was your nanny. And when you grew older, he claimed she was your governess. He should have never let his whore live with him. With our child present. No wonder you turned out the way you did.”
“What did you care? You were only worried about my aunts or their children. You only appeared in my life when it made you look like a devoted mother. Otherwise, you couldn’t have cared less about me. Even when I attended Eton and Cambridge, you only visited when it was to prance around like a loving mother. When it made you look important. The only letters I received were from either Father or Miriam. None from you.”
“You sound like a spoiled child whining because you wanted a loving mother.”
“I did! I wanted a mother who cared. But instead, I got you. But do not worry. I received that love from Miriam. I still do. I think of her more as my mother than you. You are simply the bitch who bore me. Father never loved you. He loved me. He loved Miriam. And it eats at your soul knowing he loved her. That he went to his grave loving her.”
“Yet, I got him. I got his money. And what did Miriam get? A wastrel duke husband who left her penniless and a reputation as a whore. Too bad the duke died so soon after Miriam had wed him. It would have served her right to have to live with Julius James until her death. Instead, she only had to endure that man for a year.”
“Julius James was cruel to her.”
“She needed worse. For the pain she caused this family.”
Thomas was angry and wanted to hurt Josephine for the way she was belittling his father and the woman he thought of as his mother. And he knew just what to do. Bitterness and anger punctuated his words.
“The pain she caused this family? I believe you caused more pain than she did. You left Father and me. You hated us. You wanted us to suffer as you claim you have. But you didn’t suffer. We did. I needed a mother. A mother that was not so cold. He needed a wife. That is why Father visited her frequently before she married. He loved her. She loved him. That is why she moved in with us. Miriam and I were with him as he took his last breaths. His last words were how much he loved me. How much he loved her. And upon Father’s death, he left her twenty thousand pounds and a grand townhome. Unlike what he left you. Nothing.”
Josephine screamed and threw her cup across the room at Thomas. Thomas leaned to the left, easily missing the projectile.
A manic laugh left her.
“What is so funny?”
“You. You think I do not know of the stipulations of Timothy’s will. I know them. All of them. Do you?”
“I was there during the reading. Same as you.”
An evil sneer pulled her thin lips. “But you left early.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Oh, you did. Upon hearing what Timothy left you and that whore, you left. Before you heard your entire stipulations.”
“What stipulations?” Thomas asked, a coldness filling him as he watched the sneer cross his mother’s face.
“I needed my revenge against the embarrassment he and that slut caused me. I forced him to put in a stipulation in his will. If he agreed, then I would not use my brother’s influence against his whore. I would not use Marcus to force that whore to return to Belgium. So, Timothy agreed to protect her.”
A coldness filled Thomas to his soul. “What did you do?”
“You must marry by your twenty-fifth birthday. If you do not, all your money will come to me.”
“You lie. My lawyer would have told me of this.”
“I knew your father would never leave me a shilling. We hated each other. And I know how much you are like him. So go ahead. Be frivolous with your spending. Enjoy these days with the knowledge that they are limited. You have no marriageable prospects and have what—a month left until you turn twenty-five?”
“Three.”
Josephine’s brows rose. “Three?”
“I would not expect you to remember the date of my birth. Miriam does, though.” Realization struck Thomas. “Is that why you asked me to stay with you during your time of mourning? You claimed it was because you regretted your actions towards me.”
“What?!” Josephine asked, her eyes growing wide at the realization that Thomas had seen through her scheme.
“That is it! You wanted me here so that I would never know what you did. You wanted me here to make certain Father’s wealth came to you!”
A maniacal laugh left her. “Of course, it was! Do you actually think I invited you here because I like you?”
Thomas clenched his jaw. “You are a hateful, conniving bitch.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “Get out of my sight.”
“Gladly,” Thomas said.
Josephine watched her son head to the door. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She still needed him to aid with Clayton. Thomas had power and influence. Between Thomas and Marcum, the pair had enough to keep her beloved nephew out of jail.
“Handle the issue with Clayton,” she ordered.
Thomas stopped at the door and turned. His face had reddened with anger. She had the gall to ask him to do that? After the conversation they’d just had?! “I will do no such thing. You handle him.”
“He is your cousin,” she said with force, hoping to sway Thomas to see her reasoning.
Before another word could be spoken, the individual in question went sliding across the room. Scrambling to his feet, he stumbled and fell at the feet of Josephine.
Clayton was a hideous man—rail-thin and pox marked, with greasy red hair and thin lips. Nothing about the man was appealing. Even his voice was grating. And now, the whine Clayton emitted as he slid across the floor only irritated Thomas further. Clayton sat up, and Thomas could not help but smirk. Clayton’s nose was bloodied, and his left eye was turning an ugly shade of purple. The cheaply made tweed suit he wore was covered in mud and dried leaves, the left sleeve torn.
“Here now! What is this all about?” Josephine asked.
Joshua stepped into the room. Thomas studied his friend. Joshua’s clothing was wrinkled, and dirt was smudged upon his left cheek.
“I found him,” Joshua said, dusting the leaves off his sleeves.
“What did you do to my poor, poor Clayton?” Josephine asked, scanning her nephew.
“Not nearly as much as I should have,” Joshua said. He addressed Thomas. “Did you tell her his latest exploits?”
“No,” Thomas growled.
“He has done nothing to warrant this type of treatment. Look at him! He’s battered and bruised,” Josephine shrieked.
“Not by my doing,” Joshua said, casually resting his shoulder on the doorframe.
“You knocked me from my horse,” Clayton squalled.
Joshua gave an indifferent shrug. “You should have stopped.”
“I was. I was speaking to Mr. Wilkerson.”
“Nothing he could have done would justify you assaulting him,” Josephine defended. She approached the settee and patted. She addressed her nephew, speaking to him as if he were but a small child, “Come, Clayton, rest yourself.”
Clayton scurried to his feet like the rodent he was. He quickly made his way to Josephine before Thomas could come after him.
“Thank you, Aunt. I can always count on you.” Clayton shot a heated glace at Thomas.
“Of course you can. There was no cause for them to treat you so harshly.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” Clayton sniveled again.
“And there is also no cause for you to be speaking with that drunkard Mr. Wilkerson. That man has not seen a sober minute since arriving in Swindon. For nineteen years, he has resided in Swindon, and for nineteen, he has been intoxicated. No wonder, though. Anyone who has to work for a Wilcox. Do not speak to that man again. He is not the type of man you should associate yourself with. My dear, swe
et, sweet Clayton.” Josephine patted his face.
Thomas listened to his mother coddle his cousin, and it soured his stomach. One would think she was speaking to a newborn babe and not a grown man.
“You apparently do not know of his latest escapade,” Thomas interrupted, malice in his tone. “Allow me to enlighten you. He tried to take Branson Wilcox’s sister. Now, imagine how Wilcox will react when he learns of this.”
“You mean if he discovers it, don’t you?” Josephine purposely stressed the word if.
“I did not!” Clayton defended himself. “I was coming to her aid.”
“You were being a coward and running from Joshua and me,” Thomas seethed.
“Aunt, do something,” Clayton whined, clutching Josephine’s hand.
“Thomas. You must be mistaken. Clayton would never try to take anyone.”
Thomas angrily pointed at Clayton. “He tried to run over Miss Wilcox and then take her.”
Josephine grasped the arm of the sofa. “Is that her claim? That Clayton was trying to take her? I would not put it past her. She is a Wilcox.”
“That should not be the question. The question should be, why was that sniveling whelp trying to harm her? Would you care to tell her your reason, Clayton?” Thomas growled.
“Do not use that threatening tone with him. He is just a child.”
“He is a grown man who knows better.”
“I was only trying to hide from him,” Clayton wailed, pointing at Thomas. “Thomas is so mean to me. He was angry because I refused to allow him to embarrass me. He was at a tavern telling lies about me. He constantly tries to belittle me.”
“Like that’s hard,” Joshua mumbled.
Thomas shot his friend a heated look.
“Then tell him now,” Josephine said, patting Clayton’s leg. “Tell him what you were really doing.”
“I do not want to hear it,” Thomas interrupted.
“Just be happy Wilcox did not ask what happened to his sister,” Joshua added.
“Did you tell him?” Josephine asked, a waver in her voice.
“I did not.”
A relieved breath left Josephine. She did not want to contend with Wilcox until she knew the full story. She had to come up with an alibi for her nephew. Certainly, Clayton was a grown man, but he was special. He always had been. He was Merritt’s only surviving child. It would devastate Merritt if something happened to Clayton. And truth be told, it would destroy all of the Winters family. Besides Thomas, Clayton was the only male in the family. And Clayton was the only one that Josephine and her other sibling, Marcum, cared for. Granted, their other sister Elizabeth had male children, but they had disavowed Elizabeth after she wed Robert St. John. That, in itself, was a long tale. As for Thomas, Josephine made certain none of her family cared for him. It wasn’t Thomas per se but Timothy. She wanted to hurt her husband as he had hurt her by not loving her. By loving Miriam. She knew if she could get her family to hate Thomas, it would destroy Timothy. And now? Well, why stop?
“You saw Wilcox? You spoke to his sister?”
“I did. On both accounts. I escorted Miss Wilcox home. And relax, I did not speak of Clayton to Wilcox…yet.”
“But you will.”
“I will.”
“You would betray this family?!” Josephine screeched.
Thomas’s tone was dangerously cold as he replied, “I will send a dangerous man to jail. Where he needs to go.”
“Aunt, do something. It’s a lie. I did not try to take anyone. I do not want to go to jail. I am not suited for jail,” Clayton cried, clutching Josephine’s hand.
“Silence,” Josephine hissed at her nephew. Then to her son, she said, “Marcum will hear of this.”
“Go ahead. Tell your brother the Marquess of Devonshaw. But I am here to say, Uncle Marcum will not taint his name nor his title by defending Clayton much longer. It is time Clayton takes responsibility for himself.”
Josephine’s eyes grew wide. “You cannot mean that! You must aid him.”
“Why?”
“Because he is family.”
“That is always your excuse. But I will hear of it no longer. You can use what little influence you have to help him, but I am through. In fact, I will be leaving.”
“Good,” Clayton replied.
Josephine shot her nephew a heated look before addressing Thomas. “We will discuss this when your temper has cooled.”
“I think you misinterpreted my meaning. I am leaving Swindon.”
“You cannot return to London. You gave me your word you would remain here until my mourning is over.”
“So, I did. But that was before I learned of your true reason for asking me here.”
“You are just like your father. He went back on his word to me as well.”
“Can you blame him? As for me? I will be traveling to Eden in a few weeks and then returning to London. I suggest you prepare yourself to handle Clayton…alone.”
With that, Thomas left his mother’s study, Joshua, right behind him. Both men exited the house, neither one speaking. Thomas was just as surprised as his mother at his decision to leave. He had actually planned to stay with her until the London season was over, for he had no desire to attend balls and soirees with desperate debutantes searching for husbands. But after learning of his mother’s manipulations and the unknown stipulation of Timothy’s will, Thomas knew he had to leave. He would send word to his lawyer to verify Josephine’s claims and then travel to Eden with Hawke. By the time he returned to London, his lawyer would have the information he needed. He did not like the thought of marrying to keep his inheritance, but he would do so to keep Josephine from getting her greedy claws upon it. Hell, he’d rather burn every shilling than allow it to fall into her hands.
His steps led him to the guesthouse.
“I take it you need a drink?” Joshua asked, taking the lead and opening the door.
“I do.”
Thomas followed the baron to the study. Joshua approached a cabinet and took out a bottle of wine.
“You look angry,” Joshua said, pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Thomas.
“I am fine,” Thomas growled.
“No. Something is different this time. You are beyond angry. You are fuming.”
“Damned right, I am. Why does she keep defending that idiot?”
“Clayton? I haven’t the foggiest.”
“When are you leaving for Eden?”
“The end of next week. Why?”
Thomas just looked at his friend.
Joshua smiled. “So, you have decided to accompany me? I thought that was just something you were telling your mother to anger her further.”
“Yes. I plan on going…against my better judgment. Afterward, I will be returning to London.”
“You are allowing your mother to change your plans? You realize that you will be returning to London at the beginning of the autumn season? Where there will be desperate debs hoping to land the husband they didn’t catch during the spring?” Joshua downed his drink.
“Since she appears so concerned for Clayton’s upbringing, she can be the one to raise him.” Thomas downed his wine. “But there is more.”
“Which would be?”
“I must marry, or Josephine will get all of my father’s money.”
“Marry?! Why? Who? What?”
Thomas shook his head. “I must marry or Josephine will get all of my father’s wealth and lands. As for the details and who? I will decide those at a later date.”
“Surely, you are not thinking of marrying Lady Iris?”
Thomas had been visiting Iris off and on for the past year. Iris was beautiful, but her father was a wastrel leaving the Parkers nearly destitute. That was why Iris did not mind being seen with one of the most infamous rogues in all of London…Thomas. If Joshua was a betting man, he would place a year's wages on her true intentions of allowing Thomas to court her…she was hoping to marry Thomas to gain access to his wealth.
“I haven’t decided. I am hoping a holiday at Eden will clear my head.”
Joshua looked into his cup. “Then, this calls for a stronger drink.” Joshua approached a tall cabinet and pulled out a decanter of brandy. Pouring an ample amount of the liquid into two snifters, he carried one to Thomas. Thomas took the offer. Joshua raised the cup. “To carousing and merriment.”
“And for people getting what they truly deserve.”
Chapter Four
Catrina smiled upon seeing Elena. Elena held her hands out and pulled Catrina in for an embrace.
“I am so glad your brother agreed to let you come with me,” Elena said, releasing Catrina.
“It was easy,” Catrina said.
“You will have to tell me the details when we are alone.” Elena looked over her shoulder towards her home. “Mother will not understand your plight. Now, how did you persuade your brother to bring you to London?”
“It was easy. He had to visit some solicitor or lawyer or some such person.”
“They don’t have those in Swindon?”
Catrina nodded. “They do. Just none that Branson says are worth their pay.”
Elena entwined arms with Catrina and began walking towards her home. “It looks like the footman has unloaded your bags. Mother had them take the trunk to the carriage house and the smaller valise inside. No point in lugging in that massive chest since we will be leaving in the morning.”
“Wise decision.”
Elena glanced over her shoulder. “It looks like your brother is finished speaking with my mother. I will leave you so you can say your goodbyes.” Humor lit up Elena’s eyes.
“That’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You know we have a fickle relationship.”
“You do. I just want to witness it firsthand.”
“You are a true friend,” Catrina answered with sarcasm. She left Elena standing on the steps and approached her brother.
“Take good care of my beloved little sister,” Branson said, forcing a smile.
