Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] (20 page)

C
atherine tried not to panic. “Tell me everything, Jared,” she directed her brother. “To the last detail.”

Jared shook his head. “Headmaster Dunn was my last hope.”

“Start at the beginning, Jared,” she urged, ignoring the impulse to shake the facts out of him. “Please.”

He swallowed. “Thomas Winston invited me to join him in a game—”

“Who’s Thomas Winston?”

He blinked. “Oh, yeah. Um, Sir John Winston and his wife and son came to visit the Hartzes.”

The Hartzes were the family that Jared and his tutor, Peter Leonard, had gone to assist, Catherine recalled. “How old is he?”

“Eighteen.”

Her heart hardened. Good enough to know better. “What happened?”

Wiping his hand across his eyes, he muttered, “Well, I was a real buzzard, Catherine. A cat’s-paw of the first order—”

“Just tell me what happened,” she ground out.

“They set me up for a fall and I didn’t see it coming. Oh, looking back I can see it all. But I was so blasted happy to be included in the fun. And then the winning. It had felt so good and it was more money than I’d ever laid my hands on—”

“Line up the facts, Jared,” she directed, clenching her hands in her skirts. “One, two, three.” It was an old game between them, and Catherine prayed it would finally set him straight.

“One, Thomas Winston invited me to join the game with his valet, Linnows, and two of the underbutlers, Kent and Gregg. Two, I won for a while, and then lost the lot. Three, Thomas Winston loaned me the blunt to keep playing.” His lip curled in disgust. “He said that I couldn’t win back my money if I didn’t have something to play with.”

Her heart sank. “How much do you owe him?”

“Twenty-nine pounds, seventeen shillings, eleven pence.”

“Oh, my Lord.” She covered her mouth. It was more than a year’s salary for her. As it was, everything she made went toward Jared’s tutor and expenses beyond what was provided for by Andersen Hall. She hardly had a pound to her name. “What were you thinking, Jared?” she whispered.

“They assured me that if I couldn’t pay it back, they’d help me out. Then they told me that there was a way to extinguish the whole debt.”

The sinking feeling in her middle dropped down to her toes. “How?”

“They said it was a game. Just for fun. That I could borrow Sir John Winston’s pocket watch—”

“Borrow?” She swallowed.

“Thomas assured me that he’d return it. But when I
gave it to them, they laughed and Linnows put it in his own pocket and wouldn’t give it back.” His lower lip quivered. “They said that if I told anyone, they’d honestly swear that they’d seen it in my hands.”

“Where was your tutor, Mr. Leonard, during all of this?”

One shoulder lifted into a shrug. “He and Lady Winston’s companion…”

Catherine swallowed as her mind scrambled for what to do. Her mouth was dry as sand and she realized that she was terrified. She willed herself to calm her racing heart.

“Headmaster Dunn…” A fat wet tear slid down his dirty cheek. “I can’t believe he’s dead. He’s more of a father to me than…” Sobs shuddered through him.

Sighing, she hugged him close. “You can’t feel guilty about it, Jared. Father is gone, and Headmaster Dunn was the worthiest replacement you could hope for. He was the best of all men.”

“I thought Headmaster Dunn could lend me the money…Talk to the authorities…” He wailed. “But he’s dead…And I was so selfish…It’s just to oawful…”

Hugging him, she let him cry. What were they going to do?

From where would they get almost thirty pounds? And what to do about the stolen watch? She bit her lip so hard it hurt. Now that he’d run away, he’d be suspected of misdeeds. No one would believe the word of a penniless orphan. They were in the jakes for sure.

“He was well and truly fleeced,” Marcus agreed. “It’s a common enough sham.”

“I’m wondering how Jared couldn’t have known!” Cat cried as she paced from one end of the parlor in the guesthouse to the other. Her hands clenched in her swirling gray
skirts as she swept around for another turn. Her cheeks were high with color and her pink lips set in a firm, displeased line. He could almost see the tempest swirling in those stormy gray eyes. Marcus recalled thinking of her as a pixie version of Lady Justice. But now that he knew her, he couldn’t imagine thinking of her in such staid terms. At that moment, she reminded him of a storm goddess, ready to toss down lightning bolts and smite her enemies to save those she loved. She was as passionate in her loyalty as she was in her love play, an enthralling combination.

“I want to kill the vultures.” She shook her fists. “Give them their twenty-nine pounds, seventeen shillings, eleven pence and show them what to do with it.”

Marcus suddenly recalled how Cat had hammered at Furks with the umbrella handle. How when Marcus had grabbed her in the hallway she’d smashed him in the groin. She was no kitten, she was a lioness ready to attack when those she loved were threatened. He somehow knew that she would help him if he ever needed it. The thought pleased him.

“What do you think, Marcus?”

He blinked, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. “If only he hadn’t run away.” Marcus scratched his chin. “Now for certain they’ve set the stage for his guilt.”

“What was he thinking?” she cried. “Or mayhap he wasn’t thinking. He was so caught up in being with his chums—”

“He’s fourteen years old, Cat. It’s what lads do. I don’t know that he could have recognized the swindle. Especially since these knaves were older and seem experienced in the game.”

She halted before him, hands on hips, breasts heaving. She was magnificent. “At fourteen years old, would you have fallen for such a trick?”

Marcus tore his mind away from her beauty to answer truthfully, “I don’t know. I was a bit more skeptical, I suppose. But that doesn’t mean, under the right circumstances, that I wouldn’t have fallen victim just the same.”

She dropped onto the sofa in a huff. “I don’t know what to do, Marcus. I haven’t the money to pay the swindlers, not that they deserve it. I don’t have the watch to return to Sir John Winston. And heaven only knows what’s going on in Reigate. The constable could be coming here for Jared at this very moment.”

“When was the last time you asked anyone for help, Cat?” he murmured gently as he sat down beside her and grasped her small hands in his. The scent of orange blossoms teased.

Marcus could see Cat’s reluctance in the stiff set of her shoulders; the tense way she clutched her hands in his and in how she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I…I’m not asking you to bail me out, Marcus…”

“It’s Jared who’s in trouble,” he corrected.

She shook her head. “Jared is the only family I have. If anything happens to him…” She frowned, staring down. “He’s all I have.”

Marcus was surprised at the disappointment shafting through him that she didn’t consider him her own. But that was ridiculous. They had no permanent obligations to one another and that was how he liked it. Wasn’t it? He reminded himself that he needed to be pragmatic; if everything went as planned, he’d be leaving soon for the Peninsula. Somehow the thought was not as reassuring as it once was. He pushed aside the discomfiting reflections.

“I will find this Linnows fellow and Thomas Winston and get the watch back,” Marcus stated. “After I have a little chat with these gents, I doubt that they’ll be harboring any grudges for their loan.”

“This is not your problem, Marcus—”

“What are friends for?” Somehow the moniker seemed so…inadequate. “Let us be honest, Cat. We’re more than friends. It’s the least I could do for you. And it’s no trouble, since it’s on my way back to London.”

Her brow furrowed. “Back to London?”

Releasing her hand, he stood and stepped over to the window. Outside, the sky boiled with impending storm. The clouds were leaden, the air dank with moisture. Thunder boomed in the distance. “I’m off this afternoon. It’s why I came to see you before. I wanted to say good-bye.”

Catherine felt as if she’d taken a pugilist’s blow to her middle. She had felt so relieved to be able to share her troubles with Marcus. Had so appreciated his considerate ear. His kind offer was more than she could have expected. But now, she couldn’t help but feel abandoned. “You’re leaving?”

“Lord Renfrew’s heading for Dover this afternoon. Tam and I will follow behind and learn once and for all what’s going on there.”

Inhaling a deep breath, she tried not to let her anxiety show. “Just you and Tam? Can’t you take a few more men with you?”
Like a hundred?

“Don’t worry, Cat. We’ll be fine. The letter you shared with me and my enquiries have given me more information than I could have hoped for in such circumstances.”

“Such circumstances?”

“The snare. Everything points to Dover. I’ll have my evidence…”

“What about the ‘kid glove’ treatment your superiors insisted upon?”

His lips curled. “I’ve been too docile. I feel like a bloody politician. Now it’s time for some action.”

Catherine would never describe Marcus as docile.
Fierce, wolfish and with a wild beauty that stole her breath, but never docile.

“Renfrew is guilty. Soon I’ll have the evidence to prove it. And,” he continued, his face hardening to granite, “I will find out if Renfrew is behind my father’s murder.”

Catherine swallowed. “And then you’ll return to the Peninsula.”

He looked out the window, his face closed and impassive. “Of course.”

How could he find it so easy to leave me
? she wondered. Then she reminded herself that Marcus was like a ship sailing on the open sea. He probably felt little for her except a passing fancy. But to her he would always be the man of her dreams. Even if they were never meant to come true.

“I want you to know, Marcus,” Catherine began slowly, “how much I value our…friendship. How, no matter what happens, I will always be cheering for you to succeed.”

His gaze met hers, and her breath caught at the tenderness she saw in those sea blue depths. “I feel the same, Cat. Very much the same.”

It felt so much like a final “good-bye” that her heart wrenched in her chest. “Will you be coming back to Andersen Hall again…before you’re off for good?”

“Yes. I still haven’t read my father’s will. I haven’t been up to it, just yet. And well…” He shrugged. “I feel like I have a few loose ends to tie up here.”

She wondered if she was one of those loose ends. How did he usually break it off with his paramours? A gift? A long, heady round of lovemaking through the night? Although the thought was appealing, her heart was heavy.

“I confess, when I agreed to sit on the board of trustees it was simply to cloak my activities,” Marcus added. “But now that I’ve had a chance to serve, I am beginning to ap
preciate the importance of what you do. When a child comes here, the deck is stacked against him, but you try to give him a new hand. An opportunity to succeed.” He shook his head, as if chagrined. “I suppose I simply didn’t grasp it as a child. The importance of the work that you do.”

“It’s your father’s vision that guides us, Marcus.” Catherine felt tears burning the back of her eyes. Lord how she missed that wonderful man. “He crafted the path, we simply follow his plan.” She prayed that Dunn’s vision didn’t disappear now that he was gone. It would be a travesty.

“My father…” His voice cracked and his face was filled with contained anguish. His gaze met hers, soulful and awed. “My father was a good man.”

“The best.” She smiled, wiping a tear.

“I’m coming to appreciate that. Too bad, it’s after he’s gone.”

She rose from the sofa and took his large hand in hers. She loved the feel of his calluses, knowing he’d worked hard in earning them. “You are a good man, too, Marcus. He was so very proud of you.”

Shrugging, he didn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know, Cat. The work you do here, well, it’s more than I’ve ever done for anyone.”

“That’s not true, Marcus. You safeguard our country and protect us from people who would do us wrong.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. She hated the torment she saw in his gaze. “I do so much damage in the name of good, Cat.”

“There’s nothing to wonder about, Marcus. If you have any doubts, just think of how you are going to arrest Renfrew’s nefarious activities and safeguard our beloved country. You will ensure that he will never hurt anyone
else.” She squeezed his hand. “What you do is imperative. And there are very few who are able to do it. I wish I could be half the hero you are.”

His lips lifted slightly and some of the anguish in his gaze eased. “I’ve been called many things, Cat, but a hero?”

“You are to me.”

“Perhaps it’s time for a pair of spectacles,” he teased.

She grimaced, dramatically. “My vision has been a bit blurry lately…”

He chuckled. She was glad for the lightness lifting his brilliant gaze. “You are one in a million, Cat.” He leaned forward. “May I have a kiss good-bye? For good luck?”

Catherine felt that charming smile all the way down to her toes and could not stop her lips from lifting. He’d grown so dear to her in such a short span, she wondered if she’d ever experience anything as magical as her time with Marcus Dunn.

“You mean the mighty Marcus Dunn needs luck?” She raised a brow.

“Only the kind you offer.”

Their lips met and it was as if a harmonious timbre chimed in her mind. She felt as if there was a bond connecting them, one that shimmered with the intensity of their attraction and the caring budding between them. But her heart ached that it could never bloom full flower. He was a comet blazing through the sky, and she the earthbound mortal witnessing his glory.

With seeming reluctance, Marcus released her. Clenching his hands to his sides, he stepped away. “I suppose you’ll be spending some time with Prescott while I’m gone.”

“Prescott?” she murmured, trying to memorize his
handsome features for the long days and lonely nights to come. His bruises had healed, although his eye still had the faint tinge of yellow if you knew to look for it. She loved the dark iris of his eyes, making his gaze beam like brilliant sapphires. Those, along with his dark looks and sensual lips were enough to steal her breath away.