A Rogue for Emily

by Catherine Hemmerling

  “I can only imagine,” Alex said, exchanging a look with Emily. They knew better than most how dangerous the flood had been.

  “So, as far as you are aware, this should not have happened,” Emily said.

  “No, it shouldn’t have. We are always fighting rusting metal around here, but losing one ring should not have had this result. This was clearly an act of God. What else could it be?”

  “What else, indeed?” Alex wondered. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Crick. If it is all right, we would like to look around a bit longer.”

  “Of course. Please let me know if you have any other questions.”

  Once they were alone, Alex bent down to take a closer look at the metal rings.

  “Hmm, this is interesting.”

  “What?” Emily asked, looking over his shoulder.

  He pointed to the edge of three pieces he had pulled toward himself.

  “Look, these appear to have been cut, not rusted through as Crick suggested.”

  “Do you think the brewery is a victim of sabotage?” Emily said, taken aback.

  “It certainly looks that way.”

  “Why do you suppose the clerk didn’t say anything? Do you suppose he is in on it?”

  Alex stood and wiped his hands carefully on his handkerchief.

  “No, actually. I think the ring that slipped off may have been unintentional. The cut marks on those rings go down only partway. I think it was meant to break after the saboteur had gotten away. Why would Crick have stayed if he knew he would be in danger?”

  Emily considered that for a moment.

  “I see your point, but why? Why would someone want to flood London with ale?”

  “Perhaps a rival company? The Horseshoe has been buying smaller breweries for some time now. It could be someone is not happy about it.”

  “But could a rival get in here and do such a thing in broad daylight?”

  Alex shook his head. “You’re right. It had to be someone who worked here. Perhaps it was Mr. Young. We should ask Crick about any new men he may have hired.”

  “Good idea. We may also want to ask about any disgruntled longtime employees. In case it wasn’t Mr. Young. Anyone could have been paid to do the dirty work.”

  “Very good, darling,” Alex replied, looking impressed. “That is an excellent point.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said with a smile. She gamely followed Alexander to the storehouse clerk, and after a brief conversation, they walked away with a list of potential suspects.

  “I do hope we didn’t give our suspicions away to Mr. Crick,” Emily said, climbing into the carriage.

  “He didn’t seem any the wiser. It is only logical that we would want to speak to other workers about what happened.”

  “I suppose,” Emily allowed grudgingly. “Have you decided where we are to go next?”

  “Yes, I think we should start with Daniel Wheeler of Charles St., Drury Lane.”

  “Honestly?” Emily said with a frown. “He isn’t even an employee, technically. He was there only to consult on some machine or another.”

  “Exactly,” Alex replied. “His was the first name Crick mentioned when we asked about any unusual people being seen in the area. Perhaps he wasn’t really there on brewery business. He could have been trying to find a chance to do the sabotaging.”

  “Do you think they would really just let him walk around unattended?”

  “I suppose it depends on what kind of product he was trying to sell them. We won’t know until we ask.”

  “All right. Then let us go and ask.”

  Alex smiled at her, and for the first time that day, it seemed genuinely heartfelt. Her stomach fluttered wildly.

  Why, oh why, did Alexander Bredon have to be the one with the power to undo her completely with just one smile?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Love can overcome fear in even the most frightening of situations.

  ~The Duke of Lancaster

  “I’m beginning to see your point about the smell,” Harriet was saying as the carriage came to a halt in front of Daniel Wheeler’s house.

  “It wears on you, doesn’t it?” Alex replied.

  “Over time, yes. I can’t imagine living with it for too long.”

  “Try swimming in it,” Emily murmured under her breath.

  “What was that, my lady?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Emily said louder as she exchanged a wry look with Alex. “Harriet, I think it would be best if you stayed here.”

  “In the carriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you want her to do that?” Alexander asked softly.

  Emily looked up from straightening her gloves. “Quite sure. We are unlikely to see anyone we know, so there’s no chance of scandal. And I think Mr. Wheeler will be more forthcoming with fewer people crowding his porch. We don’t want this to look like a witch-hunt.”

  Alexander shrugged. “I’m not sure three people constitute a mob, but it can’t hurt to keep it to just you and me. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

  “Not even you could turn this situation into a chance for romance,” Emily said dryly.

  “Oh, I think you would be surprised what I could make romantic,” Alex replied with a lecherous grin.

  “I am quickly discovering that you are full of surprises.”

  Alexander looked inordinately proud of himself.

  “Remind me sometime to tell you how much I loathe surprises,” Emily said lightly.

  Harriet giggled as Alex’s face fell. He turned to open the door and hop out. He was all smiles again when he held out his hand to help Emily down.

  “Shall we get on with it, my dear?”

  “We shall,” Emily replied, holding on to the crook of his arm.

  Together they walked up to the front door. Alex knocked firmly, and they waited. Mr. Crick had told them that Wheeler was an inventor of some kind, but he didn’t know much more than that. Emily was very interested as to what an inventor could have to offer the brewery. The act of brewing beer had been around for centuries. It was hard to imagine any new methods being applied to the ancient art.

  However, after a number of repeat knocks, it appeared Emily wouldn’t have her curiosity satisfied after all.

  “What do we do now?” she asked, feeling discouraged.

  “I suppose we should look around,” Alex replied, clearly also at a loss. “Perhaps we will get lucky and find some incriminating evidence lying about.”

  “It seems unlikely, but I am willing. Seems a waste to just leave without any new information.”

  Alexander nodded. “Let’s go around back and see what we can see.”

  Emily lifted her skirts a bit and indicated Alex lead the way. As they walked down the worn path running along the side of the house, Emily peeked into any windows they passed. About halfway down the length of the home, she glanced into a room that looked like an office-turned-workroom. It was mostly a mess of tools and strange looking parts.

  It appeared Mr. Wheeler really was an inventor.

  Suddenly she stopped. Did something just move?

  “Alex, wait,” Emily called out in a hushed tone.

  “What is it?” Alex replied, turning to look in her direction.

  “I think I saw something.”

  Coming to her side, Alex looked in the window.

  “Oh Lord! There’s a body on the floor behind the desk.”

  “What?” Emily gasped. “Is it moving? Because I saw something move.”

  “Come, we must find a way in. He may need our help.”

  Alexander ran to the back of the house with Emily close on his heels. The servant’s entrance was already ajar when they reached it, and they rushed inside. There didn’t appear to be anyone around.

  “Mr. Wheeler?” Alex called out.

  “Hush, Alex,” Emily cautioned. “We don’t know what is happening here.” Alex nodded, all the while mentally kicking himself. He should have thought of that.

&
nbsp; The two continued deeper into the house as quietly as possible. Emily was vigilantly looking in every direction as they snuck toward the room in question. Alex picked up on her lead, and soon they were moving like they had been a team for years, not just a few days.

  When they reached the office, its door was also already open. The room itself, while clearly not the neatest space in general, showed signs of a struggle. Beneath a small pile of books and other bits was indeed a body. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the modest space, so Emily rushed over to the unmoving person. She assumed he was Mr. Wheeler, but she couldn’t be sure under the circumstances.

  “Sir, sir,” Emily said, shaking the man’s shoulders gently. She was rewarded by a small moan.

  She turned to Alex, who was still standing in the doorway.

  “He’s alive.”

  “Am I?” the man groaned, attempting to sit up.

  “All indicators point to yes,” Emily replied, helping him into a sitting position. “Are you Daniel Wheeler?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Reaching up to carefully examine the bloody lump on his head, the man answered. “I was working on my latest project when I was attacked.”

  “Attacked? By whom? And why?”

  “I am not sure who did it, but they wanted the plans for my roasting drum.”

  “A roasting drum?” Emily repeated curiously.

  “Yes, it is one of my inventions. It will keep the malt used in brewing beer from burning during the roasting. It’s not quite done yet, but I am making great progress. I have even contacted a local brewery for their thoughts recently.”

  “The Horseshoe?”

  “Why, yes, actually. How did you know?”

  “That’s not important right now,” Emily said, motioning Alex closer to join the conversation. “Were you there the day the vats burst?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was. Why?”

  Alexander waved impatiently. “Did you give the man what he wanted?”

  “Certainly not, but he tore this office apart looking for it. They aren’t here, of course.”

  “Where are they?”

  Wheeler looked at them suspiciously. “How do I know you are not in league with the other man?”

  Emily realized just then that she and Alexander hadn’t yet introduced themselves.

  “Our apologies, sir,” Emily said quickly. “My name is Emily Moss, and this is Alexander Bredon. We are investigating the beer incident in London the other day, and we were given your name as a person of interest. We just stopped by to ask you some questions, when we saw through your window that you had collapsed.”

  “I see. Well, I am very grateful you arrived when you did. Now, what did you need exactly?”

  Clearly the man’s head wound is affecting his train of thought, Emily surmised.

  “The location of your designs?” she prompted.

  “Oh yes. In my sitting room. I haven’t removed them from my satchel, as of yet.”

  “Did you tell him that?”

  Wheeler rubbed his forehead wearily. “I don’t think so. It’s all a bit fuzzy. I believe I said they weren’t here and that is all. Then he hit me, and I don’t remember anything after that. How long was I unconscious?”

  Emily looked at Alex in question, before looking back at Mr. Wheeler.

  “We don’t know. We just got here ourselves.”

  “And what does all this have to do with what happened at the brewery?”

  “We will explain everything on the way to the hospital. You should get that wound looked at.”

  “I am in no shape to argue,” the inventor agreed.

  “Let’s go then,” Alex replied quickly, as a familiar chill ran up his spine. “I have a bad feeling.”

  That was all Emily needed to hear as she helped Mr. Wheeler to his feet. The last time Alexander had had a bad feeling, she had been trapped in a beer-filled basement room.

  “It will be faster to go out the front,” Alex said, coming over to help Emily with the inventor.

  “It’s this way,” the man indicated as they exited the room.

  They were almost across the foyer when a sound came from behind them. A split second later, the trio was knocked to the ground. Emily ended up pinned under Mr. Wheeler who was once again unconscious. Alex seemed unhurt as he stood to face the stranger.

  The assailant was dressed all in dark clothing and was holding what looked to be the satchel the inventor had told them about. It had to be the same man who had broken into her house! The roast drum design plans must have been what he was after all along. Luckily the man was trapped. Alexander was blocking the way to the door and Emily and Mr. Wheeler, still on the floor, obstructed the hallway to the back of the house.

  “Give me that case and I’ll let you out of here,” Alex bargained, firming up his stance.

  His opponent said nothing. Instead he pulled something out of his pocket. It flashed in the light, and Emily realized it was a knife.

  “Oh Alex, do be careful,” she cried, trying to wriggle her way out from under Mr. Wheeler’s dead weight.

  The thief lunged with the blade toward Alexander, who sidestepped him neatly and, using the other man’s own momentum, threw him into the door. He grabbed for the satchel but wasn’t quick enough. His adversary swung at him with the knife, and Emily heard the rending of fabric.

  “Alex!” she screamed. With one final push she found herself free. Jumping to her feet, Emily looked around for something to use as a weapon. On a nearby table was a pair of heavy brass candlesticks. Picking one up, she ran over to the battle still ensuing by the door.

  The men were grappling over the sharp weapon, and Emily didn’t see any blood, but neither did she see an opportunity to strike. Alex was clearly favoring his left side, and Emily was worried that even if he hadn’t been stabbed, he might be opening up his previous injury.

  Taking a deep breath, she ran into the fray with the candlestick. She aimed for the darkly clothed man and struck hard. She had hoped to at least knock the man to the ground, but instead the assailant fell only to one knee. She jumped on him in an attempt to keep him from getting up and attacking again, but he tossed her off him as if she were a rag doll. She slammed into a wall and slid down into a sad, crumpled fetal position. Every part of her body hurt, and tears welled in her eyes…but it pleased her to see her foe was having trouble getting up. He was clutching his head where she had hit him. His knife was nowhere to be seen. Through the ruckus, he must have lost hold of it. Perhaps due to his lack of weapon and sustained injuries, he would be off-balance enough to give up the fight. Emily hoped that would be the case, because she wasn’t sure she could move.

  …

  Alex watched as the woman he loved was flung into the wall. When she didn’t get up, anger like he had never known washed over him.

  “Arrrghh!” he screamed as he began pummeling his opponent. Gone was the pain in his side and his concern for getting the plans back for Wheeler. All that was left was utter rage and the urge to kill the man in front of him. Already reeling from Emily’s attack, the thief worked to remove himself from the arc of Alexander’s swinging arms. He began backpedaling toward the door. He used the stolen case as a battering weapon, since he no longer had his knife. Finally he just threw the satchel at Alex with all his might and ran for the exit.

  Alexander watch as the man flung the door open and sprinted down the steps and across the front lawn. In his fury, he considered giving chase, but the sound of Emily whimpering stopped him.

  He went to his beloved and knelt before her.

  “Emily, love. Where are you hurt?”

  She looked up at him with a tear-stained face, and he felt his heart break.

  “Everywhere,” she whispered. “I guess I am not meant for hand-to-hand combat.”

  Amazing. Clearly in pain and she was still able to find the humor in the situation. How could he not want this ravishing creature to be his?<
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  “You are about as big as a gnat’s ear, my dear. Of course, you are not meant for battle.” Alex smiled gently as he took Emily into his arms. “But your brave heart is as big as a lion’s the way you jumped into the fight.”

  “I was only trying to help,” she mumbled into his chest.

  “And you did. You relieved that oaf of his knife and his balance, for which I am very grateful.”

  “Good,” she replied, snuggling even farther into his embrace.

  This must be what heaven feels like, Alex thought, perfectly happy to remain in their current position forever.

  “Ahem?”

  Alexander looked up to see Harriet standing there.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked. “I saw a suspicious character fleeing the house, and I became worried.”

  “And rightly so,” Alex replied, motioning to Wheeler. “Could you please check on our friend? I am, ah, tending to Miss Moss myself.”

  “I can see that,” Harriet smirked. She headed across the room to the still-prone man in the hallway.

  “I am fine, Alex,” Emily said, lifting her head. “You can let me go now, if you want.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Don’t what?”

  Alexander ran a finger down the side of Emily’s face. “What if I don’t want to let you go…ever?”

  Emily blushed becomingly. “That would hardly be practical. We can’t stay here forever.”

  “Perhaps not here on the floor, but this house is quite fine. We shall move in with Wheeler,” Alex announced grandly.

  Now Emily laughed. “You are crazy, sir.”

  “And you are beautiful.”

  The seriousness of his tone brought Emily’s eyes to his.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Her gaze dropped to his lips and, Alex instantly hardened. Everything in him longed to answer her unspoken desire right then and there, but now was not the time to be kissing. Despite his words, he knew that they had to leave. Wheeler still needed medical care, and they needed to report back to Lady Lancaster. He was rather sure they had determined why the brewery had been sabotaged.

  Standing up slowly, Alexander lifted Emily to her feet.