Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman (34 page)

"Done." Charles smiled.

"Now to our little affair. Can I have those papers?" Gregory extended his hand, and with a gloating smile Charles reached inside his pocket. For a minute his eyes registered puzzlement, but as he continued to search, the puzzlement turned to shock and then to dismay and anger.

But Gregory read his expression well, and he knew exactly what had happened. Suddenly it struck him as wildly funny. Charles had had his pocket picked by one of the most effective pickpockets the Round had ever turned out. He should know; hadn't he convinced this same little thief to steal for him? He began to laugh, and at the surprised look on his mother's face combined with the fury that had turned Charles's face pale, Gregory could only roar with laughter.

"I can't have lost them, I can't."

"You didn't, you fool," Gregory said between his bursts of laughter. "You just had your pocket picked."

"I don't understand."

"When Charity ran from you, do you know where she went?"

"No."

"To the Round, where she learned to pick pockets for a living. She was good, very good."

"She is a thief?"

"Oh, that's rich. And you are not? You would have stolen much more from her, if I'm not mistaken."

"Damn her!"

"Now the papers are back in her hands," Gregory said, getting control of his laughter. "That is going to present some difficulties."

"Not as long as she doesn't turn them over to her husband," Glenda replied. "She kept them hidden before; she will again. In a few days it will not matter. Even if Noah does get his hands on them now, he will not be able to decode them in time. Our plans will go forward," Glenda said firmly. "Our friends will wait no longer, and there is no one to stop us."

"But what of me?" Charles said.

"We have no need of your
services
," Gregory said. This time his voice was like shards of ice. "I suggest you leave our home at once. We do not want you connected to us."

Charles watched aghast as they left the room. Then his face froze into a mask of pure hatred. He turned and left the house.

He ordered his carriage to take him directly home. When it came to a stop, he descended and almost ran into the house. He had to think. He did not notice the cab that sat across the street, nor did he know of the two who had kept close watch on everything he had done in the past days.

Distraught, he drank himself into a stupor and re-

tired early for the night. But the following morning he was to receive another surprise.

"Mr. Brentwood, there is a visitor waiting for you in the library. He said it was important."

"Who is it?" Charles was in no mood for visitors this morning.

"It's Lord Morgan, sir."

Charles's face grew even more livid. Noah Morgan! Here! Had Charity confided in him? Did she have the courage to go and tell him of Charles? No! No! He wouldn't believe that. She didn't want to lose her husband and her position, and the truth would have her tossed from Noah Morgan's life like so much waste.

He struggled for control. All he had to do was keep his control. After all, Noah had no proof, and he would deny anything Charity might have said. Who would believe her over him? She was nothing but a . . . a pickpocket. Charles straightened his tie, and his shoulders, and walked to the library.

When he opened the door, Noah rose from his chair and smiled. Charles had never seen a colder or more threatening smile in his life.

"Lord Morgan, it's an honor to have you in my home."

"I will dispense with the amenities, because I wouldn't mean a word of them, and I am trying my best not to challenge you to a duel right now. Your attempt to blackmail my wife is the most despicable thing I have ever known. I want you to know you have failed, for there is nothing in Charity's past of which I am not aware. The only thing that stops me from this challenge is that it would be murder and you are

not worth it. I will say this once, and only once. Don't ever come near, or even speak to my wife again . . . or I will not use a sword or pistol to kill you, I will use my bare hands."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I recognized your wife as a person of questionable background, and only meant to do you a service. She is nothing but a pickpocket from the Round, and she will tarnish your reputation and your career." Charles knew he was babbling, but Noah was walking toward him with death in his eyes, and Charles felt suddenly like falling to his knees and crying.

Noah grasped a handful of Charles's shirt and jerked him close, so close Charles could see the murderous intent in his eyes.

"Say that anywhere, mention her name, and I will see to it that you spend a long time dying. My wife is Lady Morgan and she will remain so. As a matter of fact, I think it's time for you to take a long, long trip. Charity is the kind of woman you do not understand. She is pure and honest, and that is beyond you. I will come back within a month, and you had better be gone. Do you understand? I intend to have Lord Brandywine investigating your affairs, just to see to it that no others like Charity fall into your hands. I already have my own suspicions."

"You can't do this!" Charles was shaking, and he could feel the sweat pop out on his entire body. When Noah released him, his knees were so weak that he sagged to the floor. He only vaguely heard the door close.

Noah left Charles Brentwood's house feeling soiled. The man was a malignancy that he should have destroyed. But his death would have brought publicity, and eventually it would have come to Charity. At least he could tell her Charles was leaving London and would not ever come near her again.

Now there were several other things he had to take care of. He started toward his carriage, but his attention was drawn to a man and woman who were walking toward him.

"Lord Morgan?"

"Yes, do I know you?"

"No," the woman said with a gentle smile, "but I know you. I see your father in your face . . . and I recognized the crest on your carriage. You are Elliott Morgan's son."

"I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, madam."

"May we have some time to talk to you . . . in private, sir?" the man asked. Noah studied a face that was as open and clear as a bright dawn.

"Of course. Would you like to join me in my coach?"

"Yes, thank you. We have much to tell you, and I think you will be grateful for every word."

"So, you're Laura," Noah said. He couldn't have been more pleased. "I must tell you that you've returned at just the right time. I have the portrait that Randolph Hamilton left my father, and the jewels and the papers in the chest with the Hamilton crest. I think now is the right time for us to go and visit this

Josine Gilbert, and then go home and tell our heiress of her good fortune. It will cause some difficulties for Glenda and her son"Noah laughed softly"but that would be most satisfactory . . . yes, most satisfactory indeed."

Josine was still not strong, but she felt she should be back among the children she loved. That was why she was seated behind her desk when Noah, Andrew, and Laura arrived at the orphanage.

"Josine, how good it is to see you here!" Laura exclaimed. "I had thought to find you still in hospital. We went there first."

"The doctors are amazed at my recovery, but seeing you seemed to put new life in me" Josine smiled. "Laura, what news have you of the girls?"

"Good news. This is Noah Morgan. He's the husband of one, and the protector of the other. We've come to take you to them."

"Yes, I think you should be there when this story is completed," Noah said. "After all, you are the one who protected our heiress all those years. And after she has been restored to her rightful place, I'll tell you why you will never deal with Charles Brentwood again, and why you might just take it into your mind to go to the authorities."

Charity was sitting in the drawing room with Kathy and Sofia while Elizabeth played on the floor between them. She was unashamedly delighted when she looked up to see Noah in the doorway, and even more

surprised and delighted when she recognized Josine with him.

It had been impossible while she was in the Round to see Josine for fear of bringing Charles to her. She didn't know how Noah had managed it, but she didn't care. She welcomed both Andrew and Laura as well, but her fullest attention was on Josine. Noah did not have to introduce Laura to Sofia, who stood slowly, with a smile forming on her lips. Kathy looked from her mother to her brother and then to the people standing in the doorway, and she knew something of import was taking place.

"I have already invited Beth and Jason to join us, Charity," Noah explained.

"How thoughtful, thank you, Noah. I'm sure Beth will be as excited as I am." Then she turned again to Josine. "I had hoped to see you again one day. Just to explain why Beth and I ran away and why we did not contact you."

"I have already done some explaining," Noah said. "I have some explaining to do to you as well, but I would prefer to wait for Beth."

"Of course," Charity replied, but something in Noah's attitude drew her attention, and she would have questioned it had not Josine spoken first.

"You have done so well, Charity. I am so happy for you. I always knew you were very special."

"Josine . . . you do not look well. Have you been ill?"

"I am afraid so. As a matter of fact, I have just gotten out of the hospital."

"Good heavens! Should you be out like this? Sit down and let me get you some tea."

The three were escorted into the drawing room by Charity and seated comfortably. "You are friends of Josine's?" she asked Laura and Andrew.

"Very much so. I have known Josine for over twenty years," Laura said. "She has been the dearest of friends."

Charity didn't want to mention the fact that she had known Josine for just as long but had never seen them or heard them mentioned. Josine smiled, and kept her silence with effort.

Before Charity could probe more, there were sounds of new arrivals, and within minutes Beth and Jason entered the room.

Josine and Laura rose almost at the same time. "Josine!" Beth ran to the woman who cared for her for so many years and embraced her. "What are you doing here?"

"Righting a dreadful wrong," Josine replied.

"A wrong?"

"Since Noah is responsible for all of this, I think it's his right to explain everything," Laura said.

"Thank you, Laura," he said. He went to Charity's side and put his arm about her waist, as if to support her. She looked up at him in surprise.

"Some years ago there was a great travesty of justice," he began. "A baby was separated from her family and seemed from that day forward to vanish. The father of the child had been a man of some renown, and his death was what precipitated the child's disappearance, for you see, this infant had a true, and I

might add very loyal friend. This friend was the child's nurse as well, and she stole the baby away for her safekeeping, for murder was planned.

"A portrait of the baby's mother was left with my father, and other proof of the child's identity. The portrait was hidden in Father's study in the hope the child would one day be able to reclaim her heritage. That nurse and friend has just returned, and this is the day when justice will finally be served."

All eyes were on Noah now, and there was a breathless expectancy hanging in the air, so thick that it held everyone in thrall.

"I have seen that portrait a number of times, but even I forgot why it hung there . . . until I saw another portrait, of a lovely lady . . . a portrait that matched the first, even though they were painted so many years apart. I invite you all to come and view those two portraits with me now, and help me right that wrong Josine has just spoken of."

The entire group exchanged looks of surprise. When Noah took Charity's hand and drew her with him, the rest followed. Outside his father's study, he turned to Charity.

"I love you," he whispered and bent to brush her lips with a light kiss. Before Charity could voice her surprise, he unlocked and opened the door.

Everyone followed him into the room. Noah had arranged the portraits together, but had placed them against the wall beside the door so that they could not be seen upon entrance. He had wanted the effect a simultaneous viewing would provide.

"If you will all turn around, you will understand."

Obediently, they all turned to face the portraits.

Elizabeth had been silent up until now, but she voiced everyone's surprise and wonderment.

"Mommy, it's Auntie Beth . . . both of them, they're Auntie Beth."

"No, Elizabeth," Noah said gently, "one is Auntie Beth, the other is her mother, the very beautiful Lady Hamilton . . . the first Lady Hamilton. Her name was Elizabeth, like yours."

Elizabeth looked at Beth, who had tears coursing down her cheeks. She smiled a tremulous smile at Elizabeth, who smiled back in a way that told Beth she was pleased to be so closely bound to her.

Beth gazed at the portrait in awe, for it was as if she were seeing two of herself.

"My mother," she whispered.

"Yes, your mother." It was Josine who spoke now, and she went to Beth and took her hand. "Laura, your mother's companion and your nurse was . . .
is
the dearest friend I have ever had. She could not let you be destroyed by that ruthless woman, and she knew murder was in Glenda's heart. She brought you to me. I'm so sorry that you have been cheated out of so much."

"Sorry?" Beth said. "How can you say such a thing? I was rescued and protected, and because of you I also have a true friend, Charity. I am so grateful for the terrible risk you both took." Beth turned to Charity, whose eyes had misted with tears. The two who had shared so much embraced and wept with each other.

"Oh, Beth, I am so happy for you. I can't believe it."

Noah was watching Charity closely, for even though he had known she would be happy for the friend she loved, he also knew that her own obscure background was something very painful for her.

By now, everyone was talking, laughing, and embracing each other.