The Pleasures of Passion: Sinful Suitors 4

by Sabrina Jeffries

  Lord Fulkham’s smile of satisfaction didn’t dim. “Ah, but these did.” He opened an apparently empty valise, then removed its false bottom to reveal more banknotes. “These we found in your rooms.”

  Though the color had drained from Uncle Toby’s face, he shook his head resolutely. “My brother must have planted that valise in my bedchamber to implicate me in his scheme.” He ignored Papa’s roar of anger to add, “I’ll have you know, sir, that I’m a respectable merchant. Why would I break the law?”

  “I don’t know the why,” Brilliana put in, “but you were certainly attempting it.” Drawing the document and its copy out of her pocket, she handed them to Fulkham. “I can’t be sure, but I think this is a French bill of exchange my uncle was trying to get me to forge a copy of.”

  As Lord Fulkham looked over the two papers, Uncle Toby shot her a murderous look. “Don’t you see what is happening here, Lord Fulkham? My brother and my niece are in league to blame their crimes on me. I am not the one with the bill of exchange in my possession—she is. And I am not the one with artistic abilities. She is.”

  As Papa cast Brilliana a frantic look, Niall stiffened beside her, but she squeezed his arm reassuringly.

  She was just about to explain how she’d changed the art to keep the bill from being used fraudulently, when Papa told Lord Fulkham, “Don’t listen to him, sir.” He drew himself up with a heavy sigh. “My daughter is just trying to protect me. She did not do anything. That copy was made by me.”

  Surprise flickered over Uncle Toby’s face, but he masked it quickly. “You see? They’re in it together.”

  “No, we’re in it together, Toby,” Papa bit out. “The jig is up.” Facing Lord Fulkham, he held out his wrists in an expression of resignation. “I will tell you everything, sir. Just take us both away, and leave my daughter be.”

  Oh, for goodness’ sake, Papa chose now to show he cared about her? “Lord Fulkham, my father had naught to do with—”

  “Be quiet for a moment, Mrs. Trevor,” Fulkham ordered before turning to her father. “If that is so, sir, then tell me this.” He held up the original bill of exchange. “What sort of mythical creature appears in the emblem on this paper?”

  As relief coursed through Brilliana, Papa blinked. “Mythical creature? What the bloody hell do you mean?”

  “The artwork contains a mythical creature. The artwork of both contains a mythical creature. What particular mythical creature is on this piece of paper?”

  Papa looked as if he might faint right there. “Mythical . . . hmm . . . A dragon?”

  Thank goodness she hadn’t chosen the dragon.

  Smirking, Lord Fulkham turned to her. “And what would you say is on there, Mrs. Trevor?”

  She grinned. “A griffin on the original. The copy has a winged horse.”

  Lord Fulkham nodded. “Very clever of you, my dear. It seems you are not so bad at subterfuge, after all.”

  “You . . . you altered it, you damned bitch?” her uncle cried.

  She glowered at him. Now his true colors came out. “That’s what you ordered me to do, isn’t it? I seem to recall your saying that I needed to make only a few changes. So I did.”

  As if realizing he’d given himself away, her uncle began to sputter, “This is not . . . I have friends, good friends in the government, who will not tolerate—”

  “Take this scoundrel away, will you?” Lord Fulkham called to some men in the hall. As the officers entered to seize Uncle Toby, Fulkham added, “Judging from what Mrs. Trevor was able to copy, you were planning to run, weren’t you? With a few simple changes to the name and the amounts, a ‘respectable man of business’ like you would have easily been able to get some foreign bank to honor the bill of exchange.”

  Uncle Toby’s expression showed nothing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my lord.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Lord Fulkham said. “Thanks to your niece and her fiancé, we have plenty of evidence against you.” As they took Uncle Toby out, Lord Fulkham smiled at her. “A pity that you have no interest in this sort of work, Mrs. Trevor. I could use a woman like you.”

  Niall tugged her close. “Over my dead body.”

  “I will overlook your impertinences, Margrave,” Lord Fulkham drawled, “since this turned out well. But it could easily have gone wrong, Lady Pensworth’s help notwithstanding.”

  “I knew something was up when she arrived,” Brilliana said. “She was behaving very oddly.”

  “You can thank Margrave for that,” Lord Fulkham said. “He sent her here to distract Payne and make sure he didn’t harm you, while Margrave and I marshaled our resources.”

  She gazed fondly up at Niall. “How very clever of you.”

  “Yes, but thanks to his insistence on acting now,” Lord Fulkham grumbled, “we still don’t have the men who did the forgeries for Payne.”

  “If I hadn’t acted now,” Niall pointed out, “Payne would have fled. And you know it.”

  “Probably. I daresay your father’s losing that one note to you made Payne nervous enough to fear he was on the verge of capture.” Fulkham sighed. “Besides, I’m not sure we ever can apprehend his cohorts, given that they’re likely in France. We’ll have to work with the French authorities on that.”

  “What will happen to Papa now?” Brilliana asked.

  “Since he had no intent to defraud, I can make a good case for not charging him at all. Especially once I tell the magistrate how you and Niall assisted in your uncle’s capture.”

  Papa gaped at her. “You . . . you knew about the counterfeits this whole time?”

  She nodded. “Lord Fulkham said that if I wanted to keep you from being hanged, I needed to find out what was really going on. And he enlisted Niall to help me.”

  Her father clutched his cane. “You did that for me?”

  “I couldn’t see you hanged, Papa,” she said softly.

  He digested that a moment, then turned to Lord Fulkham. “Is that what will happen to my brother? Is he going to hang?”

  “I’ll do my best to see that he only receives transportation, sir. After all, I owe your daughter for catching him.”

  “Don’t spare him on my account,” she said with a sniff. “He tried to frame my father for counterfeiting. I can never forgive him for that.”

  Fulkham nodded. “We’ll talk more about it later. But for now, I must go oversee the men who are gathering evidence.”

  As he went out, Aunt Agatha pushed her way in.

  Brilliana rushed over to hug her. “Oh, Aunt, I do adore you,” she said. “Thank you for being here for me.”

  “If something had happened to you, my dear,” Aunt Agatha murmured, “I don’t know what I would have done. You are essential to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. And I feel the same about you.”

  Drawing back to blot her eyes with a handkerchief, Lady Pensworth took a deep, steadying breath. “Enough of that now.” She shot Papa a furtive glance. “I am happy to be the one relation who hasn’t let you down.”

  “To be fair,” Niall broke in, “Sir Oswald wasn’t entirely to blame for brokering Bree’s marriage to Trevor. Payne had a part in that, too.”

  “What!” Brilliana and Aunt Agatha exclaimed in unison.

  Niall smiled at Brilliana. “Your father asked your uncle to help him pay off the debt to Captain Trevor, so you didn’t have to marry anyone you didn’t want, but your uncle refused to lift one finger on your behalf. In fact, he urged your father to accept Captain Trevor’s suggestion of an arranged marriage.”

  “Why, that . . . that lying weasel!” she cried. “Now I really hope he hangs!”

  Her father stepped forward. “Ah, but it wasn’t his fault in the end, daughter. I could have refused the captain’s offer, come hell or high water. Instead, I made you feel you had no choice but to accept it.” He hung his head. “And I have never regretted anything so much in my life. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

  She stared at hi
m, her heart twisting in her chest. She’d never expected to hear such words come from his mouth. He was still a negligent wastrel, but in light of recent revelations, she couldn’t think quite as ill of him as before. Especially after what he’d just attempted to do for her.

  “You offered to go to prison for me, Papa,” she said softly. “I’d be an ungrateful daughter indeed to stay angry with you after that. So, yes, I forgive you.”

  “Well,” he said in a relieved voice, “it was the least I could do, considering that you married Reynold Trevor to keep me out of prison.” He cast her a rheumy smile. “So, does that mean you’ll let me see my grandson at last?”

  “It does.” She cast Niall a teasing glance. “But it may have to wait until after the wedding, since I believe that will be occurring soon.”

  “Quite soon, if I have my way, sweeting,” Niall said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Aunt Agatha exclaimed. “After everything I have put up with from you two, I believe I’ve earned the right to see my niece wed in a grand ceremony befitting a future countess. She deserves it, and I can afford to pay for it. So that is what we’ll do.”

  Brilliana appealed to her fiancé. “Niall, do tell her—”

  “Who am I to gainsay your aunt? If she wants a grand ceremony, she can have one.” He took her hands in his. “As long as I’m the groom, I don’t care when or how we marry, my love.”

  She stared into his eyes, her heart so full she could hardly bear it.

  Aunt Agatha cleared her throat. “Come, Sir Oswald.” She took Papa by the arm. “Let’s go see if we can find some tea in this place. I am positively parched.”

  As they walked out, Papa muttered, “So am I, but it ain’t for tea.”

  “Come to think of it,” her aunt said, “a bit of brandy in the tea wouldn’t be amiss.”

  She closed the door, and Brilliana and Niall burst into laughter.

  Then it dawned on both of them that at last they were alone . . . or as alone as they could be with men tramping about the house. And suddenly she didn’t know quite what to say to him.

  She remembered only too well how they’d left things last night, and all she seemed able to do was stare down at her hands as she gathered her thoughts.

  “Please tell me you’re not planning to jilt me again,” he drawled. “I can only endure one jilting per day.”

  “Niall, don’t tease. I have something very serious to say to you.”

  With a squeeze of his hands, she met his gaze. Her heart broke to see the uncertainty in the beautiful hazel eyes she loved so well. She had put that uncertainty there with her fears.

  And now she would banish it for good. “Last night, you were right when you said I was afraid to trust my heart. But in my defense, once a body’s heart is broken, even after it mends you feel as if it’s too fragile ever to be taxed again. So you coddle it and keep it wrapped up in wool, so it won’t get scarred or torn or even scratched.”

  Tears welled in her eyes that she swallowed ruthlessly. “But this morning, when I sat there listening to Uncle Toby’s idiocy about jilting you, I realized that my heart is stronger than I thought. It believed in you when I couldn’t, it waited for you when I couldn’t. And it loved you even when I couldn’t.”

  She smiled tremulously. “As it turns out, it didn’t need protecting after all. It just needed me to take it out of the wool and let it breathe. And now it’s doing precisely what it always wanted: loving you. Freely. As apparently I always have.”

  A smile broke over his face more beautiful than any sunrise, and he bent to touch his forehead to hers. “That’s the nice thing about hearts. They’re stubborn as the very devil. Since mine has been longing for you all these years, too, what do you say we give them what they want?”

  She nodded, so full of happiness and joy that she could hardly speak.

  Niall kissed her with the sweet, deep love of a man who knew her, body and soul, and then he kissed her again for good measure.

  When finally he drew back, he wore that rakish smile she adored. “So, no more jiltings?”

  “Never again, my love. You’re stuck with me now.”

  With a chuckle, he took her arm in his and led her toward the door. “It’s about damned time.”

  Epilogue

  Margrave Manor

  Twelfth Night, 1831

  When they cut the cake, Niall got the piece containing the bean, which meant he was king for Twelfth Night. Brilliana couldn’t help but laugh. The last thing her husband needed was a crown to make him more self-assured.

  Fittingly, his sister Clarissa received the piece of cake containing the pea, thus making her queen for the night. Many jokes about the reign of the Lindsey siblings ensued, all in good fun, and Brilliana smiled at the sight of her husband marching about the ballroom, paper scepter in hand.

  Wearing her own paper crown, Clarissa came up to stand next to Brilliana. “You have no idea how pleased I am to finally be at a party. I thought I would go mad, cooped up in the country for three months.”

  “I can well imagine,” Brilliana said with a smile. “And how is little Horatio?”

  Clarissa beamed at her. “He’s adorable! I know every mother says the same, but he is the cleverest lad. At only two weeks, he smiles!”

  “Of course he does.” Brilliana wouldn’t tell her that many infants appeared to smile at that age. “I do hope we can see him soon.”

  “You shall, as soon as I can convince Edwin that it’s safe.” Clarissa rolled her eyes. “I love my husband, but he must be the most overprotective man in all Christendom.”

  “I think it’s rather sweet,” Brilliana said.

  “Sweet, yes. And sometimes very trying.” Clarissa turned serious. “I . . . um . . . understand that my brother told you why he had to go into exile.”

  “Yes.” Brilliana reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “And it made me admire you even more. You are incredibly strong to have survived that so well.”

  “Thank you. In truth, I hadn’t survived it nearly as well as I thought. Then Edwin came along, and he showed me that . . .” She smiled. “Anyway, I wanted to speak to you about it because Edwin finally told me how keeping my secret was the cause of your separation from Niall. I am so very sorry that—”

  “Please, don’t be concerned. You couldn’t stop what was done to you, any more than we could have stopped how we reacted. Niall and I have found each other again, and that’s what’s important.”

  “Very true, and I’m delighted for you both.” Clarissa hugged her. “I am so very glad to have you as a sister.”

  Brilliana’s eyes welled with tears. “Me too.”

  Then her other sister-in-law, Delia, appeared. “What’s this? Clarissa, are you making my sister cry?”

  “She’s my sister now, too,” Clarissa said blithely. “So you must share her.”

  Delia chuckled. “Happily. One can never have too many sisters.”

  The three of them hugged and laughed, and were well on their way to having a jolly good cry, when Niall appeared. “By God, what is going on? Is my queen consorting with my wife?” He frowned. “That sounds odd, doesn’t it?”

  Clarissa laughed. “Yes, but it’s all right. You’re king tonight. You can say anything you please.”

  “Then I will say that I wish to have my wife to myself for a while, ladies.”

  “I understand entirely.” With a knowing smile, Clarissa drew Delia off with her.

  Niall grinned. “There are some advantages to being the Bean King.”

  “Don’t get cocky,” Brilliana teased. “You are only king for the evening.”

  “That’s long enough to suit me—I don’t wish to rule this lot. They are completely unmanageable.”

  With a laugh, Brilliana glanced about. Warren was sneaking brandy into the punch bowl. Jeremy, another member of St. George’s, was trying to convince a portly old gentleman to pose for one of his outrageous paintings. Aunt Agatha was whirling Silas about the room in her arms
as he laughingly trailed ribbons through the air. And Papa—

  “Good Lord,” Brilliana said. “My father just brought a glass of punch to your mother.”

  Niall followed her gaze, then groaned. “Can you imagine those two together?”

  “We mustn’t allow it to go beyond this party. God forbid they were to marry. Why, they would always be in arrears.”

  “Between my mother’s spending and your father’s gambling . . .”

  They watched the couple talk for a few minutes. They did seem rather animated. Brilliana rarely saw her grouchy father laugh, but the dowager Lady Margrave caused him to do so several times.

  “He has become a bit better with his gambling,” Brilliana pointed out. “I think that Uncle Toby’s downfall frightened him into reconsidering his way of life. A bit. I don’t know if it will last.”

  “Well, nothing would prompt my mother to become more responsible,” Niall said. “She’s entirely too old to change.”

  And too featherbrained, Brilliana thought, but it wasn’t as if Papa was any sort of scholar. The two of them were matched evenly there.

  A frightening thought.

  “Speaking of your uncle,” Niall said, “how do you feel about the sentence imposed upon him?”

  She sighed. “I confess that I’m relieved he only got transportation. I know what he did was wrong, but—”

  “I understand. And our laws are absurdly draconian with regard to such matters, anyway.” Niall shook his head. “No one should have to hang for counterfeiting.”

  “I agree.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for convincing Lord Fulkham to be lenient with him.”

  “Only because I knew you would wish it. I was none too happy when I realized your uncle was trying to embroil you in his scheme.” Niall slid his arm about her waist.

  Aunt Agatha came up to them holding Silas by the hand. The minute Silas saw Niall, he cried, “Jack, Jack!”

  When Niall grinned and reached into his pocket, Aunt Agatha said, “Margrave! You wouldn’t!”

  “It’s not that watch. It’s a perfectly respectable image of ladies dancing in a wood.” Niall wound the music-box portion of the pocket watch, then held it out to her. “Here, see for yourself.”