Proper Scoundrel (19 page)

She paled but she didn’t answer.

“I repeat: what has you so frightened that you’d stoop to criminal activity just to stop the railroad from coming through? Is it revenge? Is there an investor you want to ruin?

“It can’t be greed,” he said. “Or can it? Do you want that option back because somebody is offering you more for that land than the railroad paid? Oh wait, I know, the old pirate who owned the estate buried his treasure on that piece of land and you haven’t dug it up yet.”

She blanched, quick and pure white, but she recovered fast, and furious. “The only treasure the old pirate who owned this estate ever buried there was the dog he beat to death. He might even have planted my grandmother there as well. He beat her often enough, and nearly to death, but he died before he could.”

Marcus realized then that he wasn’t getting through to her at all. She had changed the subject entirely. He stood, keeping decently covered. “We never sent that letter to your London bank,” he said. “Get me back inside so I can pack my bags.”

She looked stricken, worse than when he questioned her. “Don’t leave. I ... need you.”

He scoffed. “You don’t need anybody Jade. You keep proving that. Not me or anybody.”

“But my finances. You promised.”

“That’s why I’m going to London. To get them straightened out. When they are, I’ll return to explain everything and say goodbye.”

“No.”

“Yes.” As formidable as he could be, wrapped in tarpaulin, he preceded her toward the hidden stairwell.

After she unlocked the door between the cave and the hidden stairs, he took the key from her hand. Then she picked up the glowing lantern she’d left on the landing.

He could see by its light, despite her raised chin, that her eyes were full and near to spilling over. He touched her cheek. “I’m sorry you don’t feel you can trust me. More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

Jade wanted to step into Marcus’s arms and never leave their safety. The only thing she’d ever wanted as badly was to care for the women and children who needed her. She wanted to tell him about her grandmother, how one act of hers, an absolutely necessary act, hung like a sharp blade on a weak spring over all of them. The women, little Emily, the twins; they would all suffer, if she failed to protect Gram’s past to buy their future.

She wanted to tell him she couldn’t have been honest with the railroad about wanting her land back, because if they’d said no, and she’d been forced to act, they would have suspected her of slowing construction. “Are you going to summon the magistrate?” she asked.

Marcus stepped back as if she’d struck him. “You really don’t trust me.”

“I trust that you’re honest and upstanding. You discovered ... an infraction ... here today, and I expect you to do what any honest—”

Shaking his head, Marcus hauled himself and his clumsy costume up the stairs as if he couldn’t bear to hear another word. In her room, not seeming to care that she watched, he stepped from his canvas wrap and into his trousers.

Wearing nothing else, he left her room, nodding with gentlemanly grace to Molly and Lacey, as if he weren’t bare-chested and bare-footed, and as if he hadn’t just bid farewell to the woman who fell in love with him.

Standing in her doorway, Jade couldn’t react to the knowing smile Molly threw her. She just closed her door and gave in to tears. She who never cried, couldn’t seem to stop.

She’d hurt him. How could that be? The conundrum made her weep the more.

But after a while, she remembered that someone or other always needed her, so she dried her eyes and went downstairs to make certain Marcus had everything he needed for his trip to London.

Happy to oblige Marcus, Beecher agreed to continue the search for the gunman while Marcus went to London. He would start at the brothel in the twittens where Marcus had lost the man.

Garrett showed Marcus the latest report. “What the devil do you think you’re doing, walking in here to say goodbye when you didn’t even have the courtesy to stop in today and tell me how last night went!” He slapped the paper in his hand. “No need to bother now, of course, it’s all here in this note from Brinkley. The lumber’s gone, as you must know. Where the hell were you last night? Playing house with Jade?”

Marcus laughed. “Rich, coming from you.” He held up a hand. “For your information, I came by early this morning.” He let the statement settle and waited until the implication sunk in. “Right. Bad timing on my part. Good timing for you, though.”

“That’s not the point!” Garrett snapped.

“It’s not. But the fact is, while you were playing house, I was on the job.” Marcus pointed to his eye, his jaw, rolled up his now impeccable sleeves to reveal more bruises. “I got thrashed and pummelled and run off my feet by a gunman. Then I was attacked by an angry mob.” Garrett didn’t need to know the mob was a swarm of perfumed street-tarts, Marcus thought. Garr’s accusation of dereliction made him want to dispatch a jab or three of his own.

“When I got back to the site, the lumber car sat empty. No lumber anywhere. Missing. Disappeared. Like magic. Like Jade.” Marcus ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened, maybe the gunman was a ruse to take my attention away from her, but Garrett, I swear, he looked set to shoot her. You would have tried to stop him as well.”

“Stop pacing and sit,” Garrett said. “You’re right. I would have. I’m sorry I lost my temper. Why London? Why now?”

Marcus sat with a sigh. “Mostly because I’m a man scorned and I’m angry, furious. But it’s more than needing to get away. I need to see Jade’s banker and find out where her money’s gone. That information is going to lead us to her purpose—I feel it in my gut. Which should lead to solving our problem. Also, as a result of an inquiry I sent to Newhaven, I just this minute received word that Emily’s mother did, indeed, travel to London. I’d like to try to find her.”

“What about the railroad?”

“How long before more lumber is cut, milled and shipped?”

“Too long. A few weeks; five at the most.”

“Write to me. Keep me informed. I’ll open the London house. As soon as you say the lumber’s on its way, I’ll be back, I promise. Now,” Marcus sat back. “Tell me, Garr, what happened here last night and with whom?”

“Go to hell.”

Marcus slept little and left at dawn the following morning, missing Jade like a lovesick halfling. He travelled back to his home, Seaford Head, with Ivy, because he wanted to speak to his friend about doing him a favour, and he wanted his own carriage for the trip to London. No matter that his home sat closer to the sea, stood taller and more majestic than Peacehaven, if he had ever experienced this deep lonely ache for home before, it had not hurt half so much.

He wanted Jade beside him by day.

He dreamed about her by night.

In London, old haunts and suddenly shallow friends failed to cheer him. As a matter of fact, his old life depressed the devil out of him. The women he’d once lusted after now seemed like painted caricatures of depravity and greed.

Marcus buried himself in his purpose.

By his third day in the city he discovered that Jade’s income had been directed to the account of one Giles Dudley nearly two years before. A highly insulted banker had shown Marcus the instructions to do so, signed by Jade’s grandmother. The signature, as valid as the one on the land option—owed, no doubt, to the same deceitful process.

Neil Kirby must work for Giles Dudley. Marcus intended to find out for sure. He hired a Bow Street Runner to look for both men and for Catherine Warren, Emily’s mother, as well.

He deposited two thousand pounds of his own money into Jade’s account and wrote to Garr so he would help Jade word her instructions correctly to direct her future income properly. He did not allow Garrett to reveal anything about Dudley or the apparent theft of her money, only that previous to this, her income had been directed incorrectly.

By the beginning of his second week, Marcus’s old friend, the Duke of Haverhill, obligingly exerted his considerable power to make Dudley’s account available for Marcus’s lawful perusal. He also unearthed a good deal of information about Dudley, the most interesting to Marcus being the bounder’s distant connection to Jade.

Now Marcus needed to ferret out other sources of Dudley’s income to determine if the worm’s entire twenty-seven thousand pounds belonged to Jade. For two full days he painstakingly hand copied both accounts, Jade’s and Dudley’s, so he could bring the information back to Peacehaven to compare to Jade’s ledgers.

By the end of the third week, Marcus learned that Dudley was trying to have Jade’s grandmother declared insane, thereby nullifying her will leaving everything to Jade, and making Dudley her beneficiary instead. Marcus knew too that Dudley had left London to go on a business trip, or so his servant said.

It bothered Marcus that if Dudley succeeded in having Jade’s grandmother declared insane, Jade would lose Peacehaven. More important, the people who depended on her would lose their home. That, he thought, might be enough to make someone as decent and honest as Jade, turn to crime.

But why stop the railroad?

Why, why, why?

Emily couldn’t sleep. She fussed and wept, and nothing Lacey did seemed to console her. Around midnight, afraid the child would make herself sick, Lacey wrapped Emily in a blanket and took her on a foray ’round Peacehaven, as it turned out, for Jade was not in her room as Lacey expected.

They found her with Eloisa, both of them in nightgowns walking two fussing babies.

When Jade heard Emily sobbing, she looked for a place to put little Mac, but Eloisa had her hands full with little Garth.

“Here,” Lacey said. “Why don’t we trade? I’ll put Em down on the bed for a minute and you give me Mac.”

Jade failed to hide her surprise.

Eloisa stopped pacing. “Thank you, Lacey. I know babies aren’t your favourite form of amusement, but Mac’s getting tired. I think he’ll fall asleep soon, anyway.”

Lacey put Emily on the bed and Jade handed her Mac quickly, because Emily cried harder until Jade picked her up and she sat down to rock and cuddle her.

Lacey kissed Mac’s small cheek, settled him on her shoulder, and as if she’d reached heaven, she began to pace and hum softly.

Emily calmed down as well, though the occasional sob escaped her heart-shaped mouth. Jade stroked the damp strands of hair from her fretful brow. “Now, my pretty little kitten, what’s all this about? Why so sad?”

“Emmy w ... want Mucks.”

Having expected Em to ask for her mother, Jade sat silent, and angry, for more than a beat. Damn Marcus for staying away so long. She kissed Em’s tiny brow as much to show her love as to calm her ire. “He’ll be back soon, Sweetheart. I’ll bet he misses you every bit as much as you miss him.”

Considering her words, Emily’s brows furrowed slightly, as if she had difficulty believing it, drat the man. “He loves you, Emmybug. He wouldn’t want you to cry so much you couldn’t sleep, and it’s time for all little girls to be asleep.”

“Babies too?”

“Yes, babies too. Mac and Garth are very nearly there. Why don’t you see if you can sleep first and win the race?” Emily flashed an impish grin and closed her eyes.

Jade shared a conspiratorial smile with Lacey and Eloisa when she looked up.

“I’ll have to remember that one,” Eloisa said.

It was not Mac but Garth losing steam in the fussing department, though Eloisa still offered Lacey first use of the babyminder Lilly lent them—a cradle attached to a rocking chair, in which a mother could gratefully rest while rocking her baby to sleep.

Fortunately for Eloisa, who’d been pacing for hours, Lacey refused the minder, so Eloisa placed Garth in the cradle portion, sat on the chair portion, and rocked him into a peaceful sleep.

Rocking soothed Emily as well, Jade noticed, as Em changed positions, and placed her head on Jade’s breast. Not long after that, her heavy little lids closed, though she’d fought a valiant fight.

“Poor baby,” Eloisa whispered, watching Emily. “Everybody leaving her.”

Having lost her own parents at an early age, and missing Marcus a great deal, Jade knew how Emily felt. Her heart ached for the child even as her anger at Emily’s mother, and at Marcus, grew, because they left her.