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A Rogue No More (The Rogue Chronicles Book 3)

Page 22

by Lana Williams


  “Not so unusual for a publisher.”

  “True. What’s on your mind?” Aberland asked as he studied Thomas.

  “I’m in need of assistance.”

  “By the severity of your tone, I’d venture to guess it’s not to help plan your wedding.”

  Thomas appreciated the man’s levity but couldn’t bring himself to smile. “No. But I must warn you that it carries great risk.”

  “I’m happy to aid a future relative. Tell me more.”

  ~*~

  Annabelle wrote what amounted to a short story as quickly as possible, pleased that the words flowed like a river in her mind. Though she wished Thomas had told her more, but from the few things he’d said and the way he’d said them, she had no doubt something was afoot, which made her feel as if this was the most important writing she’d ever done.

  He had suggested she write the story much like she would any other, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. She embellished only enough to make it interesting as if her purpose was merely to entertain. As he requested, she used names of her choosing but kept as many other details and descriptions as possible. She also included an introductory paragraph to clarify that the story was unrelated to the normal serial, but she hoped the readers enjoyed it.

  She wished there was time for Thomas to read it so that she knew for certain it was what he wanted. Since that wasn’t possible, she read the entire story herself one more time, made a few final changes, then wrapped it in brown paper, just as she did for her usual chapters. She added a note, requesting that the editor print it in the next day’s broadsheet if possible. She didn’t mention Thomas’s name, hoping he had been in contact with the editor.

  Thomas had asked her to trust him, and she realized she did, despite her hurt that he’d cancelled their contract. His remark that he couldn’t publish her books ‘today’ had caught her notice. She didn’t know what that meant and refused to hope his decision might change. But it had made her wonder if there was more to his sudden decision to terminate their publishing agreement than he’d told her.

  She’d had far too much time to think of late, but that time had made her realize books weren’t the only interest they shared. She genuinely liked him as a person and admired his intelligence, his loyalty to his brothers, and his own efforts to change. The attraction that simmered between them had only grown as they’d come to know each other better. That was more than many marriages started with.

  Since she intended to continue writing and find another publisher, she’d have to find a way to keep her personal life separate from the professional side. The worry that marriage would change her continued to be of concern, but Margaret’s words at the garden party kept floating through her mind. New experiences changed people, shading and molding their opinions and beliefs. That meant her own thoughts would alter, regardless of whether she married. She wanted to grow as a person and a writer.

  Besides, she shared blame for their forced betrothal. That meant it was her responsibility to make the best of it. And having a happy life with Thomas was worth the effort. Thomas was worth the effort.

  After she’d placed the package in the footman’s hands with delivery instructions, she said a prayer that her words would accomplish whatever it was that Thomas wanted them to.

  Then she said one more, asking for his safety and wellbeing. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she had the distinct impression it was dangerous.

  Waiting until the morrow for news seemed an impossible task.

  With new hope easing the ache in her heart, she returned to her bedchamber and took the pink gown out of her wardrobe then went in search of Margaret. The time had come to prepare for her upcoming wedding.

  ~*~

  Thomas sipped his drink as he waited at Madame Gaston’s that evening for Sir Alexander to make an appearance. He hoped Lord Thornton had been right and the knight would soon arrive. But that was only the beginning of his worries. The plan had many moving parts, and the smallest deviation would ruin everything.

  At a quarter to midnight, he walked into the card room and soon joined a game with his friend, Lord Stanton, as well as Daniel Walker, Aberland’s younger brother. If possible, he wished to avoid playing hazard with the knight, preferring a game over which he had some skill and control.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted them.

  “This should prove to be an interesting game,” Walker said with a smile. “I must remember to thank my brother for including me.”

  “Aberland is a good man to know.” Thomas hoped he had been able to do all that he’d asked of him.

  Thomas’s chair faced the entrance to the room, and he’d won his first hand when Sir Alexander strode in with a drink in hand, just as Thornton had promised.

  The man sneered as his gaze met Thomas’s. “And here I thought you’d left your vices behind since you’re soon to be married.”

  Thomas smiled. “I decided I had better enjoy myself while I could. Besides, cards and drinking seem to be the only things I’m good at.”

  “They say a leopard can’t change his spots. A wastrel through and through,” Sir Alexander said with derision then turned to go.

  “Care to join us for a hand? I’m feeling rather lucky this evening.” Thomas spoke loudly enough that the players at the other tables turned to look. “I’m happy to take some of your money. I will soon have a wife and need all the blunt I can win.”

  The knight glanced about the room, seeming to realize that everyone watched to see how he’d respond. He walked closer. “How unfortunate that your table is full else I’d test how well your luck holds.”

  Thomas glanced at Lord Stanton, who gave a nearly indiscernible nod, then tossed his cards down and rose, just as Thomas had asked. “I’ve had my fill of losing to you, Raybourne,” Stanton said then turned to Sir Alexander and gestured toward his seat. “Please take my place.”

  The knight eyed the empty chair with distaste, and for a long moment, Thomas feared he’d refuse. Just as Thomas was about to goad him further, Sir Alexander sat and the cards were dealt.

  Several of the players at other tables ended their game and rose to watch. Soon a small crowd had gathered around Thomas’s table.

  Thomas watched the cards carefully, trying to put all else from his mind. The goal of the game was to not exceed one and twenty. He took the risk of stopping at nineteen and won another hand, smiling as he took Sir Alexander’s money then watched as another hand was dealt. He deliberately lost the next, going over one and twenty and again on the following round.

  Sir Alexander was the one who was smiling as his pile of notes grew larger. “Tsk. Tsk, Raybourne. Too bad you’re not good at this either. I had expected more, given your reputation.”

  Thomas did his best to act surly as if losing with poor grace. He finished his drink and ordered another, pleased when Sir Alexander did the same. Thomas managed to win the next hand, and this time, the knight was the surly one.

  More people arrived to watch as word of the game spread through the gaming hell. Graham and Hugh entered the room right on time, remaining by the door. Aberland came in as well, all of their approving looks lending Thomas confidence. When Lord Thornton arrived with Sir Stuart Godfrey, the long-standing head of the Court of Directors of the East India Company, Thomas drew a relieved breath. None of them were visible to Sir Alexander unless he turned around, and all remained quiet. Aberland had done just as Thomas had requested.

  The time had come to move forward with the next step in the plan. Thomas made certain to lose another hand before clearing his throat.

  “It appears your luck exceeds mine this evening, Sir Alexander.”

  “You should learn not to challenge me, Raybourne.”

  “I tip my hat toward you. Your cleverness amazes me.” Thomas was counting on the man’s pride and temper to assist him. “No wonder you’ve risen to such great heights.” The sarcasm in his tone couldn’t be ignored.

  The knight’s lips p
ursed as he glared at Thomas. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Did you gain your knighthood the same way you gained power in the Company? By using unscrupulous methods?”

  “See here. I worked hard for all I have.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you about? Have you so quickly forgotten our recent conversation?”

  “You refer to the one where you’ve agreed not to have another person murdered if I keep quiet about your efforts to take over both the Earl of Arlingwood and Sir Reginald Gold’s docks?” Thomas said it loud and clear so everyone watching could hear.

  Sir Alexander’s shock—eyes wide and mouth agape—was almost satisfying. But Thomas wouldn’t be pleased until the knight had not only been stopped but punished for his deeds.

  The man glanced at the two other players who sat at their table then at those standing nearby but didn’t look behind him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Raybourne. You should keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”

  “I’ve had time to think about it since you paid a visit to Artemis Press the other day, and I refuse to keep your dirty secrets. Murder is a serious crime. And I don’t appreciate you threatening one of our authors or having the murder scenes from his book re-enacted. You have blood on your hands now. Even worse, you’ve done it under the guise of the East India Company’s interests.”

  “Cease this at once. You’re speaking lies, and I won’t have it.” Sir Alexander rose, spittle coming from his lips as he spoke. “Do you hear me? I won’t have it!”

  “What is all this about?” Sir Stuart stepped forward to stand next to the enraged man.

  Sir Alexander’s mouth dropped open with surprise once again. The entire room was silent as everyone watched the scene unfold.

  Thomas rose as well. “Sir Alexander Bolton is responsible for the recent deaths of Joseph Smead and Markus Whitney.”

  “What?” The Earl of Arlingwood elbowed through the group of men to glare at the knight. “Is this true?”

  “No!” Sir Alexander glanced about as if looking for an ally. “Raybourne has lost his mind. Can’t you see?” His expression filled with relief as Lord Thornton slowly eased forward with Cummings at his side. “Thornton, tell them.”

  “It’s true,” the lord said, and Thomas was able to breathe again. “He ordered the two deaths with exact instructions to copy murder scenes from a book.”

  Sir Alexander gasped as he stared at his friend. “What?”

  “I know it to be true as well,” Cummings added.

  Thomas had told Thornton and Cummings his plan and asked them to join him, suggesting there was safety in numbers. When they’d hesitated, he reminded them that by not coming forward, they were guilty as well.

  “As do I,” another man stepped forward as well.

  Sir Stuart’s shock was nearly as palpable as Sir Alexander’s. “I can’t believe you’d sink to such a level. What were you thinking?”

  The knight glanced around at the room filled with acquaintances and peers. “You don’t understand. None of you understand. This is all a huge mistake.”

  “One the authorities can sort through,” Sir Stuart said. “You are hereby relieved of your position.”

  Thomas watched as Sir Stuart took control of the situation, arranging for several of the other directors who were there to work with the police in an investigation of Sir Alexander’s activities. The knight was escorted out, still protesting his innocence. Thomas leaned against the table for a moment as relief poured through him. He’d never been so pleased to have a game of cards over in his life.

  “I can’t thank you enough.” Sir Stuart approached Thomas and shook his hand. “I had no idea he was doing such terrible things. You have my word that his crimes will not go unpunished.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” Thomas said then watched as Sir Stuart stepped away to speak with the Earl of Arlingwood.

  “Thomas, I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am,” Graham said as he slapped Thomas on the shoulder. “Who knew you were capable of catching a murderer?”

  “Certainly not me,” Hugh added with a smile.

  “Your brother is quite the hero,” Aberland told Graham and Hugh as he joined them and clasped Thomas’s hand. “A man of action.”

  “Thank you for your assistance.” Thomas was truly grateful for the earl’s contacts that had enabled him to convince Sir Stuart to come. The head director’s presence had been key to the plan.

  “Of course.” Aberland nodded. “But I hope we don’t need to deal with anything similar in the near future.”

  “As do I,” Thomas agreed. Then Aberland moved away to speak with Arlingwood.

  “I’m impressed by your methods to shed the light on what Sir Alexander did.” Graham raised a brow. “That was quite the feat.”

  “He made it easy when he told me so much of his plan the day he came to Artemis Press. His threats to make someone I cared for the next murder victim made me hesitate. But I realized I had to try to stop him.” His mouth went dry when he thought of how the evening could’ve gone. “I appreciate you both coming to support me. I wanted at least a few people in the room on whom I could depend in case things went wrong.”

  “You can always count on us,” Graham said.

  “What are brothers for?” Hugh asked.

  Thomas paused, studying each of them. Was this the moment he’d been waiting for? To find out for certain what they knew? In truth, he was tired of wondering and worrying. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.” He glanced away for a moment. “Did Father tell you that he believed I’m not his son?”

  “Yes.” Graham’s lips tightened as his eyes filled with sympathy. “But that doesn’t matter. You’re still our brother.”

  “Always,” Hugh agreed. “You can’t be rid of us so easily.”

  Thomas nodded, emotion tightening his throat even as another wave of relief washed over him. “I’m pleased to hear that, for I don’t know what I’d do without the pair of you.”

  What a night this had been. Now he had one more task before him come the morning. Then he could focus on his future with Annabelle if she’d still have him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Annabelle rose after a fitful night to wash and dress before hurrying downstairs, hoping the broadsheet wasn’t already in her father’s hands or she wouldn’t see it for hours. She was anxious to know if the editor had managed to print the story.

  Before she could look in the library, she heard her father’s voice in the dining room and entered to find him and her mother beginning breakfast.

  “Have a look at this, dear,” he told her mother as he held out the broadsheet. “This is quite the tale. Very entertaining.”

  A glance over his shoulder revealed he was referring to her story. Annabelle couldn’t help but smile. She often read to him, sometimes even her own work, but he didn’t always react to it, let alone remember it. He seemed to be having a good day thus far.

  “Good morning, Annabelle.” Her mother glanced at her and took the paper.

  “Good morning to both of you.” She kissed her father’s cheek, noting his green eyes were clear this morning, much like they used to be. Though she knew that could change at any given moment, the sight still made her happy. Sometimes happiness was in the little moments in each day.

  “You should read the story in the broadsheet, Annabelle,” he said as he reached for his steaming cup of coffee. “You’ll enjoy it.”

  Annabelle shared a look with her mother, who nodded with encouragement. “Actually, I wrote it, Father.” She kissed her mother’s cheek as well before taking her seat.

  He paused, the cup halfway to his lips as he stared at her. “You did?”

  “I write quite a few things.” She hesitated to say more, worried that if she told him about her book again, he’d realize he’d forgotten, which always saddened him.

  His broad smile had her grinning in return. “You don’t say?” He looked at her mother. “Did you hear that, dear? O
ur daughter is a writer.” The pride in his voice brought tears to Annabelle’s eyes, even if she knew he’d forget by the afternoon.

  “She’s talented.” Her mother reached out to pat Annabelle’s arm, smiling. “As are all our daughters.”

  “You wrote that, eh?” her father asked, a frown marring his brow. “I don’t mean to sound critical, but though it’s well written, it’s rather farfetched and unbelievable, don’t you think?”

  Annabelle bit her lip to keep from telling him the entire piece was true, including the part he’d told her just two days ago about his past dealings with Sir Alexander. “All that matters is whether you found it entertaining.”

  “I did. Quite interesting.” He returned his attention to his breakfast.

  “Some of this seems vaguely familiar.” Her mother handed her the broadsheet with a puzzled look. “But much different than your usual serial, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. Her father rarely told her mother about his business, so it was no surprise that she didn’t immediately recognize the events.

  Annabelle quickly read the story, pleased the editor had done what Thomas requested and printed it in full. Whether anyone would realize it was a summary of Sir Alexander’s deeds in fictional form remained to be seen. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long to hear from Thomas as to whether the story served the purpose he wanted.

  Too anxious to eat much, she settled for tea and toast, time passing far too slowly. Surely Thomas would arrive before too long if he had anything to report, wouldn’t he?

  When Barclay finally announced Thomas was calling, she hurried into the drawing room, filled with uncertainty as to what to expect. Her gaze swept over him, pleased to see he appeared unharmed, if tired. Yet worry choked her as she saw he held her manuscript. No doubt he was returning it, just as she’d asked. It appeared as if one part of their relationship was truly at an end. The realization brought a lump to her throat.

  “Good morning, Annabelle,” he said with a smile, his dimples displayed in full force for the first time in a long while, causing her stomach to dip. “I come bearing good news.”

 

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