“You are the one who will be the recipient of thanks once our friends discover in no uncertain terms that they should not part with any money to fund any venture involving Clayton Forsythe.”
Once at Luke’s estate, the men hurried to disembark the carriage. Gilbert headed toward the front door, but Stratford would have none of such a bold entrance. “We must not be introduced by the butler. We must take them by surprise. Remember, they do not know Baron von Lunenburg, and questions about him will arise too soon if we must explain ourselves at the front door.”
“True,” they agreed.
“Let us go to the side entrance of the east wing. We can enter the ballroom from there. That is where the meeting is taking place.”
The three men snuck into the ballroom. Stratford wondered what Clayton Forsythe’s reaction would be once he saw the real Baron von Lunenburg.
Forsythe was in the middle of a speech. “So you see, gentlemen, all of us in this room are on the cusp of a unique and rare opportunity, an opportunity known only to a select few. Because the limited partnerships available are numbered, I can only recommend a small number of select gentlemen as investors.”
Stratford counted fifteen investors. Most of the new men were friends of those who had been at the smaller meeting where he had confronted Forsythe. Obviously, he had not been convincing in his confrontation.
Thank You, Lord, for allowing the real Baron von Lunenburg to arrive here just in time. I pray You will show my friends the folly of investing their money with this confidence man. But if somehow I am wrong, give me the humility to face up to my mistake and make amends.
For the first time in a long while, Stratford wished he was wrong about Clayton Forsythe. But increasingly, he could see that he was right.
“And so, gentlemen,” Forsythe continued, “my partners have agreed that those who were at the first meeting will be allowed to invest the sum of ten thousand pounds each in our enterprise. The outer circle, which are those of you who were invited to this meeting, will be allowed to invest five thousand pounds.”
“Is that all?” asked a man Stratford recognized as a merchant. “But what about those of us who would like to invest more?”
“I should say you are lucky.”
Vicar Ellington! Is Clayton Forsythe so low that he is willing to take money from one of the local clergy? This is too much!
Stratford couldn’t help but allow himself some grudging admiration for a man who was so slick he could get a crowd of respectable and intelligent gentlemen to beg him for the chance to invest a small fortune with him.
But his scam wouldn’t last much longer.
Stratford stiffened when he saw Forsythe looking about the room, making brief eye contact with each potential investor. His gaze set on Baron von Lunenburg. Stratford waited for a flicker of recognition, then fear, to enter his eyes.
Neither emotion seemed to register with Forsythe. “Ah, I see three more gentlemen have arrived. Have you changed your mind, Brunswick?”
“We shall see.”
“Since you are a friend, I shall still allow you to take part in our deal. But only because you are highly recommended by many of the other gentlemen here.”
Questioning mutters flittered through the air, while Luke, Crumpton, and Halifax nodded with knowledge emanating from their demeanor.
“And is the friend you brought with you tonight known to everyone else here?”
“He is known to Gilbert Meara, Esquire, and myself,” Stratford answered. “We would be more than happy to vouch for him.”
“Then certainly his money is good with me.”
“Indeed. But you might not be so happy to see him once he is introduced. Or perhaps I should allow him to introduce himself.”
“I shall. I am Baron Hans von Lunenburg.”
Shocked silence was followed by choruses of questions and pronouncements of disbelief.
Forsythe brought the crowd to silence. “I beg your pardon, but as some of you are aware, Lord Brunswick and his friend attempted to make the same accusation less than a fortnight ago. I see they are still up to their tricks. I have no idea what their motive is for wanting to bring dishonor upon me, but as you can see, they are quite persistent. Perhaps some of you know that Lord Brunswick and I have been enjoying a friendly rivalry for the attentions of Lady Dorothea Witherspoon. I suspect he might be taking the game of love a bit too far.”
“I should say, ruining a man’s reputation over the love of a woman is most inappropriate,” someone said over the din.
“I agree with that sentiment.” Stratford’s voice was loud enough to silence the others. “I think most of you in this room know me well enough to realize I would never stoop to conquer. My motive is to protect you—men I consider my friends—from folly.”
“Does he fancy himself smarter than we are?” someone asked.
“Indeed not. But I know more about this man than you do. And what I know is not pretty.”
“Not pretty?” Forsythe said. “Let me tell you what is not pretty. This man”—he pointed to Baron von Lunenburg—“is the imposter.”
“How dare you!” Baron von Lunenburg said.
His challenge didn’t deter Forsythe. “Can any of you here identify this man as Baron Hans von Lunenburg or anyone else?”
They studied the new man, but all seemed to come up short.
“I am not surprised no one here knows me. I have lived most of my life in my native Germany. I have no friends or family relations in this part of the country, so I never have had good reason to journey here. I only have a place to rest my head tonight thanks to the hospitality of Lord Brunswick, whom I only met this evening, and my fond acquaintance, Gilbert Meara. They are the ones who invited me here.”
“My, how surprised I am,” Forsythe noted with a liberal dose of sarcasm.
“You were counting on no one here knowing me by sight,” Baron von Lunenburg noted. “If anyone could have identified you as an imposter, your plan to convince them to invest in a fake mine in Africa would have failed. Is that not correct?”
“Of course not. The mine is anything but fake. It is as real as the nose on my face,” Forsythe insisted. “I have no complaint against any of these men. Why would I want to lead them into folly?”
“You may have no complaint against them,” Gilbert noted, “but you have no complaint against their money, either.”
“Speaking of money,” Halifax said, “the man you call an imposter seems to have a good deal of money. If he is nothing but a common criminal, as you continue to insist, where did he find the money to blend in with us?”
“The benevolence fund.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gentlemen, one of my dear daughters desired to start a benevolence fund in her church in London. She asked that our family name be attached to it. Now I see that step of pride was a mistake, for it allowed this man to learn about a name he could steal and use—an unblemished name—to gain your trust. Judging from what I have seen and heard, this man financed his devious plan by using money given to him by myself and the good members of my daughter’s church in good faith.”
He studied Forsythe. “In fact, I am sure this must be what happened. Did any of you not notice how his clothing fits well enough but not as well as it ought? Clearly, he took the suit he is wearing from the clothing closet that was meant to be taken advantage of by only the less fortunate who are honest, not criminals. I will have you to know that my daughter speaks highly of her fellow church members. I know they are fine Christian people, and they would be most astonished and appalled if they were to learn how their donations are being used.”
“Surely you are not suggesting that our churches should not be benevolent to the poor,” Crumpton asked.
“Of course not. We can only do our best and give our finest to the Lord. I firmly believe that most of our efforts are welcome and appreciated and put to good and proper use by deserving people who need help. As for those who would take advantage
of the generosity of the church, well”—Baron von Lunenburg stared meaningfully at Forsythe—“the good Lord in heaven will deal with them.”
“What a fine speech. With such accomplished skill at debate, you should be a member of Parliament,” Forsythe proclaimed.
“Member of Parliament? He has yet to prove he is even a member of the gentry,” someone said.
“I thought that might be an issue. I have proof.” He reached into an inner pocket of his suit and withdrew identification papers.
As soon as the first few men saw them, their looks toward Clayton hardened.
“This is all a mistake, I tell you. A mistake.” In an instant, his voice had turned from the confident tone of a schemer to the high-pitched plea of schoolboy.
“The mistake,” Stratford said, “is the one you made in using someone else’s good name and trust to turn a profit in a fraudulent investment.”
Seeing he was trapped, Clayton made a break for an exit.
“Do not let him escape!” Crumpton shouted.
A couple of the men closest to him rushed to subdue Clayton, who was unable even to exit the house. Luke sent for the justice of the peace.
Stratford was glad to be proven right, but the victory was bittersweet. He wished he hadn’t had to confront his friends about their lack of judgment, even though they thanked him for saving them from their eagerness to earn a high rate of return on their investments. He accepted their congratulations as they all watched Clayton Forsythe being escorted away.
“Allow me to be among the first to thank you for saving me ten thousand pounds,” Luke said to Stratford. “Crow does not a pleasant dish make, but I am willing to partake of its bitter taste for the sake of preserving a good part of my fortune.”
“I am only glad I was able to solve the mystery before he ran off with half the parish’s money. But I would have preferred that he came to a saving knowledge of the Lord instead.” Sincere regret colored Stratford’s voice.
“Not everyone is destined to become a Christian, I am afraid,” Gilbert noted.
“Gilbert, I hope that you will not choose to remain an unbeliever.”
Stratford’s friend looked him in the eye. “After witnessing how you conduct your life, how you have the capacity to forgive those who wrong you, how you were willing to put your own reputation at risk to help others, I must admit, I am wavering.”
“And let us not forget,” Baron von Lunenburg added, “your friend went above and beyond the call of duty to help me, a man he had not even met. From what little I have seen of him, I discern that his motives were pure.”
“They were, and I thank you for the compliment,” Stratford said.
“You have a friend here, Meara,” Baron von Lunenburg said. “I recommend you follow his example and be sure you waver all the way to the foot of the cross.”
“I will give the proposition renewed consideration.” Gilbert gave him a half nod that didn’t commit him entirely, but Stratford could see his friend was nearing the truth.
“I always hate to see a man waste his life. Take Forsythe,” Stratford said. “If he had used the obvious wit and charm he possesses for good, he could have made a much better way for himself than a life as a confidence man.”
Baron von Lunenburg let out a resigned sigh. “That is exactly the reason I started the benevolence fund. To help people live a better life. Not to abuse the new opportunities a little bit of money could afford them.”
“Do not concentrate on the one bad apple,” Stratford consoled him. “Think instead of the many people you have helped.”
“I will, my boy. You possess wisdom beyond your years.”
“The few times I am wise, especially on matters of godliness, I believe I am being used as a vessel by the Holy Spirit.”
“I am an old man allowed to repeat myself,” Baron von Lunenburg observed. “A fine man you are, indeed, Lord Brunswick.”
“Yes. A fine man he is indeed.” This compliment was rendered by a familiar female voice.
Stratford turned to her. “Dorothea!”
“I just heard about everything that happened at the meeting. You were so brave to face everyone as you did.”
“I could not have done anything without your help.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“She helped?” Baron von Lunenburg asked.
“Indeed, she did,” Stratford said. After he made formal introductions, he launched into an explanation. “Lady Witherspoon delayed Clayton long enough to assure your arrival before he left with the money. He was sitting for a portrait with her. She is the artist about whom we first wrote to you.”
“Ah!” Baron von Lunenburg’s eyes lit with appreciation. “I now regret I did not respond to the offer to have my portrait painted by such a beautiful artist.”
Dorothea blushed.
“Tell me, my dear, do you have any openings to take on a new commission?” Baron von Lunenburg inquired.
Dorothea’s eyes widened. “But you have not seen my work.”
“I do not have to. You come highly recommended.”
“Of course I can clear my schedule for the real Baron Hans von Lunenburg. It would be an honor for me to paint your portrait.”
Stratford sent Gilbert a look and then turned his attention to the baron. “Your reputation as a charmer in your day precedes you. From what I hear, your day is not yet over.”
“An old man is allowed the pleasure of a sincere compliment to a lady without fear of reprisal on the part of either party. Is that not correct, Lady Witherspoon?”
Dorothea laughed.
“I am sure if Dorothea feels honored to paint your portrait, her judgment is not misplaced,” Helen said. “She possesses much more wisdom than I do when the time to judge a person’s character arrives. I must apologize to you, Lord Brunswick. I am afraid I encouraged Dorothea toward Baro—Clayton Forsythe far too much. Indeed, I would be honored to encourage you to court her now, and I hope you will accept my deepest and humblest apology.”
“Of course, although there is no need for you to apologize to me. You were only guiding your cousin toward the man who appeared to be charming, wealthy, and popular.”
“Not that you are not all of those things—”
“Thank you for your consideration of my feelings,” Stratford said, “but I am aware that the man you knew as Baron von Lunenburg was undeniably charming to everyone he met. That was his stock in trade, after all.”
“Then let us wipe the slate clean,” Helen suggested.
He sent Helen a warm smile. “Yes. Let us.”
“Oh, Helen,” Dorothea said, “I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment. I know it was not easy for you to make such admissions.”
“I see now that I was blinded by the desire for prestige and prominence, whereas you could sense Clayton’s character flaws. I shall be more reserved in my judgment in the future.”
The women embraced. After they broke away, Helen motioned to the food. “Come, let us eat. There is no reason to let all this food go to waste.”
“Even without our guest of honor?” Dorothea jested.
“I suggest that we propose a new guest of honor. Lord Stratford Brunswick.”
Dorothea’s eyes glistened as she looked into his face. “Indeed.”
❧
“Shall we go in the garden?” Stratford asked Dorothea as the crowd thinned later in the evening.
“That would be most agreeable.”
He led her by the arm, through the side door, and into the formal gardens on the side of the house. She clutched his arm happily. Now that the imposter among them had been exposed and could no longer interfere, Dorothea knew nothing stood in the way of their happiness.
Since summer was upon them, the garden was at the peak of its glory. They could see roses in bloom and rich green shrubbery sculpted into fascinating shapes such as pyramids and swans. The fresh scent of the plants God created complemented the rose water Dorothea had dabbed
behind her ears and wrists earlier that evening.
“Isn’t the garden lovely,” she remarked as they strolled along the path.
“Not as lovely as you are,” he responded. “Come. Let us go to the corner, where we can look at the moon.”
She observed the white crescent barely lighting the sky. “Ah, the moon is yet again just past new. Much like another night I remember.”
“Yes. The happiest night of my life. But it will be eclipsed tonight if your answer is in the affirmative.” He gazed into her eyes.
She became conscious of her beating heart and the warmth of his closeness. “Yes. I am sure that is what my answer will be.”
“You do not yet know my question.”
“You are right.” But she could guess.
He positioned himself on one knee. “Dorothea, when I first saw you in the foyer that night, looking so uncertain and scared, yet so beautiful, I was enraptured by you. That feeling never let go of me. Not ever. And since we have known each other, you have shown me nothing but the utmost devotion. You did not even question me when I asked you to detain Clayton Forsythe. You obeyed me without question.”
“And why should I not give my utmost obedience to a man I trust without reservation? I have never trusted a man more than you. Unlike my father who, without meaning to, betrayed me by losing my family’s fortune, I know in my heart you will never do anything to bring me misfortune or harm. Your love for me is pure, purer than any love I thought would be possible from any man.”
“My heart leaps for joy to hear you say such words. I do not deserve you. But I pray you will do me the great honor of becoming my wife. Will you, Dorothea? Will you accept my proposal of marriage?”
“Without reservation, I accept!”
He rose to his feet and took her in his arms. The kiss they shared was even sweeter than the first, a pledge of the love they would share forever.
Dorothea’s journey had begun in desperation. Yet with the Lord’s guidance and protection, the journey had brought her to a destination where love was found, where relationships were repaired and strengthened, and where she knew she would realize God’s ultimate purpose for her life.
Journeys Page 16
