Tempting a Sinner (19 page)

Malinda tried to collect her addled wits. “I suppose that might be true. It would also explain why the marquis is so adamant that he had no hand in the ambush.”

Benedict nodded. “If it is true, does it make you feel any better about your father’s part in this?”

“But why did he say he was going to be rich?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps my father offered him a greater share of the gold if he brought it safely through the mountains.”

His voice was matter-of-fact, as though they were discussing the weather rather than events that had shaped and distorted so much of their lives. He also made a lot of sense. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but she tried to focus on viewing the events of the past differently.

“So if it wasn’t a plot between our fathers, who were the Englishmen I saw going through the baggage?”

“That is a very interesting question, my dear, and here’s another one for you. If my father isn’t trying to kill you—who is?”

Benedict waited as the shock of his question registered in her wide hazel eyes and then watched as she struggled to dissemble. He’d
known
there was more to it and so, obviously, had she. That was why she’d been afraid all along.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure someone
is
trying to kill me. That might all be a product of your imagination.”

“Someone tried to burn down the house you were known to be staying in. Did that not convince you?”

She raised her chin. “You said it might have been aimed at you.”

“I was trying not to worry you.”

“And now you are?”

“Yes, because knowing my father is your potential murderer is far easier to deal with than not knowing whom the devil I should be going after.”

“You think someone is after me because I saw the ambush? But no one else survived.”

“The ambushers did, and they got away with the gold. And if they were, indeed, British, then you are in danger.”

“But why now?” She shook her head. “It was more than eighteen years ago.”

“Because you came back to England and you allied yourself with me.”

“Only as a means to get to your father.”

He forced himself to ignore that jab and concentrated on the problem at hand. “Unfortunately for you, I am known as a man who investigates such matters of national security and duplicity. They might think you have finally decided to reveal what you know, and that makes you dangerous.”

He was relieved to see that some color was returning to her cheeks and that she was no longer on the verge of tears. He wanted to pick her up and hold her close to his heart.

“Wait a minute.”

He froze. Naturally, along with her recovery came her feisty nature and her desire to divert attention away from herself.

“You
knew,
didn’t you?”

“About what?”

“Don’t prevaricate, Benedict. You knew about the ambush.”

“I was there, don’t you remember? I was the one who led the search party to recover them.”

“I mean about the gold. Did your father tell you?”

“No, he didn’t. In fact he—”

“So when did you find out?”

He sighed. “Quite recently.”

“Who told you?”

“I can’t reveal that.”

Her gaze narrowed. “That’s why you’ve been guarding me so closely, isn’t it?”

“Naturally.” He held up his hand. “And before you start getting all self-righteous, I was going to tell you what I knew.”

“When?”

“As soon as I realized you no longer believed my father was responsible.” She opened her mouth and he kept talking. “Don’t glare at me. I know that nothing I would’ve said when we first met would have made any difference. Once you get the bit between your teeth you’re unstoppable. You had to come to your own conclusions and be ready to tell me the rest.”

She slumped back in her seat. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You’re actually admitting that I might be?”

“I’m not stupid, Benedict. I understand that I put you in a difficult situation with regard to your father, but you did
insist
on getting involved.”

He realized he was clenching his jaw. “I did what I thought was necessary to keep two members of my family from killing each other.”

She wagged an accusatory finger. “And because you wanted to see how far your father was implicated. In fact, I was a useful tool so that you didn’t have to investigate him too closely yourself.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Malinda. When I interfered, you raked me over the coals, but when I
didn’t,
you now insist I should have declared my interest. Which is it to be? I was quite prepared to do what was necessary.”

He abruptly stood up and, needing to do something with his hands rather than wrap them around her pretty neck, helped himself to another glass of brandy.

“Then what are we going to do now?”

He turned to look at her. “We are going to continue to keep you well-guarded and hope that your aggressor will show himself.”

“You propose using me as bait?”

“In the meantime, we’ll consult with Adam and pool our knowledge so that we can try and figure out exactly who might have known you witnessed that ambush.” He crossed the room to the fire and came down on one knee in front of her. She let him take her hand but looked wary.

“Promise me something.”

“It depends what it is.”

“Promise me that you will abide by my decisions regarding your safety.”

She stared into his eyes, her head angled to one side. “All right.”

“And if you think of anything else, anything at all that might help us discover who might want to kill you, tell me or Adam immediately.”

“I will—as long as you both do the same.”

“Agreed.” He kissed her hand and slowly rose to his feet. “How are you feeling now?”

“I need to think.” She rubbed her forehead and stood up. “I have a headache.”

“I’m not surprised.” He leaned in and kissed her parted lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me enough to tell me the truth.”

“I’ve always trusted you.”

He kissed her again just because he could, and because he didn’t have the words to tell her how much that trust meant to him, how he’d die for her, how . . .

“Malinda—”

“Yes?”

“Remember to let someone know if you wish to go out.”

Her smile died and she patted his cheek and stepped out of his reach. “I think I’ll go back upstairs and sleep for a while.”

He watched her leave, her head high and her gaze sure, aware in the pit of his stomach that he’d failed her in some subtle way—that he should have spoken up. He hadn’t told her he trusted her. He didn’t trust anyone, but the fact that she’d noticed his lack of reply and withdrawn from him hurt far more than he had anticipated.

“S
o you knew about this too?” Malinda stared down at Faith as she took a seat in Adam’s office.

The countess smiled. “Of course I did.”

Malinda made a huffing sound. “It seems I’m the only one who’s been kept in ignorance.”

“You didn’t exactly share what you knew either.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She poured herself some coffee from the tray the estimable Mr. Maclean had left on the table and added a large helping of cream.

“The aim now is to move forward and make sure you are kept safe, and that whoever is responsible for this terrible crime is apprehended.” Faith sipped at her tea, her expression thoughtful. “I wonder if Adam has found out anything new? He met with Nicodemus Theale this morning.”

“Who is Nicodemus Theale?”

“He is a gatherer of interesting information. You’ll like him.”

“Yet another man who knows all my secrets,” Malinda grumbled.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“What do you mean?” Despite everything, Malinda knew she sounded defensive.

“Just that you are used to being the strong member of the family, the holder of the secrets, not the one who needs help. It must be hard for you to relinquish control.”

“Indeed.” Malinda tried to relax and picked up her cup. “Especially to Benedict.”

Faith chuckled. “Who finds it equally difficult.”

The door opened and Adam came in, accompanied by Benedict and Mr. Maclean, who paused to shut the door and then bowed to the two ladies. Benedict looked calm as usual, Adam even more so.

Adam took the seat at the head of the table. “Alistair will take notes if that’s all right with everyone.”

The secretary took the seat to Malinda’s left and placed a bottle of ink and a spare pen on the table in front of him.

“Now, let’s summarize,” Adam said. “We know that a large sum of gold was stolen during the ambush that killed Malinda’s father. Despite earlier suspicions, the Marquis of Alford denies ordering the attack.”

Malinda gave a reluctant nod.

“We also know that Malinda witnessed the ambush and its aftermath, and confirmed that those who carried it out appeared to be English. Her recent reappearance at Benedict’s side and her reluctant acceptance by the Keyes family must have alarmed the perpetrators enough to consider killing her.”

“You believe there is more than one?”

“It’s possible.” Adam shrugged.

“So do you have any new information for us?” Benedict asked.

“Nicodemus is currently trying to trace the man who set fire to your house in Maddox Street. He believes he is close to discovering him.”

“And what about that other matter I asked about?”

“Information about the men who died in the ambush? I have that.” Adam sorted through a pile of papers on his desk and brought a single sheet back to the table. “Two of the men had families back in England, the third was unmarried and lived with his parents. None of the families received more than the usual military payoff, and none of them appear to be living in great style.”

“Which probably means they didn’t benefit from the ambush.”

“One must assume so.” Adam sighed. “Then who else knew they carried that gold?”

“We always come back to the Marquis of Alford,” Malinda said. Opposite her, Benedict stiffened.

“But would he steal his own money?” Adam asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I understand that the majority of the gold was actually the marquis’s own. Apparently he was unhappy with the delays in paying his troops by the Crown and decided to supplement the payments himself. It wasn’t an entirely altruistic gesture; I saw a letter he wrote to the paymaster general in which he informed them that he intended to call in the debt when the Crown provided their usual promissory bank notes and coin.”

“Perhaps he decided he’d rather keep it
all
for himself.” Ignoring the frown on Benedict’s face, Malinda continued, “That might also explain why he wanted the matter to be a secret between him and my father.”

“She does have a point, Adam,” Faith said.

“But why go to all that bother to bring the gold to Portugal and then steal it?” Benedict demanded. “And I can swear to you that none of it came home with me, or my father. The last thing I did before he took me back to school in England was pack up our tent and belongings, and there was no gold.”

“Of course there wasn’t. Don’t be dull-witted, Benedict. The gold was taken away by his accomplices.”

He looked down his aristocratic nose at her, his eyes frosty. “I thought we’d established that my father was no longer a suspect.”

“But that was before Adam told us who owned the gold.”

“I fail to see—”

“If I may intervene for a moment?” Adam said smoothly. “We should certainly keep the marquis in mind, but we must also consider who else might have known about the gold. Your party was not unobserved on the coast, my lady. That’s how we found out that you were with them. It’s possible that someone who loaded those mules and knew what they carried followed you back and took what they wanted.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Malinda reluctantly agreed. “My father tried to keep all the men close by and wouldn’t allow any of them to wander off and enjoy the pleasures of the city. But I’m not sure if he was entirely successful.”

“You had no sense of being observed or of being followed?”

“None at all.” She shivered. “The ambush came out of nowhere.”

“Which indicates a well-planned attack in the most dangerous of places. It hardly sounds like an adventurous thief or two.”

“But for all that gold . . .” Faith breathed and then promptly became more businesslike. “Would you like me to go and visit the Marquis of Alford? I can acquaint him with our new knowledge of his ownership of the gold and see if it changes his mind about what he wants to share with us.”

“If you would, my lady, that would be most helpful. I think we should keep Benedict and Malinda away from him at present.” Adam bowed. “I’d also like to widen the search to other members of the regiment, especially those who were friends of your father, Malinda.”

“I can make you a list,” Malinda offered. She paused to take her mother’s journal out of her pocket. “I also have this. My mother didn’t write a lot, but it is very interesting.”

“Your mother wrote a journal?” Faith smiled. “How fascinating. Would it pain you to read out what she thought about the night of the ambush?”

“If you think it might help.” Malinda cleared her throat, found the correct page, and steeled herself to read.

“ ‘Mally says she is sick. I think she’s sulking again over a fight with the young lord. It’s quite late now, I can barely see to write, but Patrick hasn’t returned yet, and I’m worried something might have befallen him, especially since that business with the marquis. I pray God will keep him safe.’ ”

Malinda swallowed hard and looked up. “There’s nothing more on that night or for a few days afterward.”

“Is there anything in the journal that you think is important?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know. The more I read it, the less clear it all becomes. She writes about the men who attended his funeral, and then there’s another big gap because that’s when she met up with George, her second husband, and she went off with him within a week or so.”

Faith held out her hand. “May I read it?”

Malinda looked down at the battered journal, which was almost all that she had left of her mother. “Yes, of course.”

“I promise I’ll take great care of it.”

“I know you will.” She passed it across to Faith. “Perhaps you’ll see something I’ve missed.”

“Even if your mother’s journal doesn’t hold any clues to the mystery, it is still a useful tool.”

She looked up at Adam. “In what way?”

“We can
pretend
it does. Any self-respecting murderer would want to get his hands on it then.”

“And how are we supposed to accomplish that? Should I wander through the hallways and ballrooms of London reading it out loud?”

“Oh, there are much easier ways of spreading information than that.” Adam smiled. “We are fairly good at it here at the Sinners.”

He rose to his feet and studied them all. “Is there anything else we need to discuss at this point?” No one answered him. “Then let’s carry on gathering as much information as we can and entice this murdering bastard out into the open.”

Faith stood and slipped the journal into her reticule. “I have to go. Ian wants me to accompany him to an exhibit at Somerset House.”

“I’ll escort you upstairs, my lady.” Adam offered his arm and they left together, followed by a silent Mr. Maclean.

Malinda remained at the table, her hands joined in front of her.

“It will be all right, Malinda.”

She looked up to see that Benedict had also stayed in his seat. He wore a navy blue coat that darkened the color of his eyes and set off his blond coloring to advantage. He seemed relaxed and rather distant. It wasn’t hard to guess why.

“I suppose you are annoyed with me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I can’t let go of the notion that your father is somehow behind all of this.”

He shrugged one elegant shoulder. “As I mentioned before, there isn’t a lot I can do about it, is there? When you get an idea in your head, it is impossible to reason with you.”

She shot to her feet. “So I’m the one who is at fault here? It isn’t that you are still so mired in loyalty to your father that you can’t see him for what he truly is?”

He stretched out his legs and leaned back to look up at her, his face expressionless, his mouth a hard line. “I might say the same about you.”

“My father is
dead
.”

“And mine soon will be.”

“So he still deserves your respect, your sympathy, and your protection, is that it?”

“I don’t know what he deserves, which is why I’m trying to keep an open mind and not allow myself to become bogged down in emotions.”

“Like I am.”

“I didn’t say that.” He hesitated. “Malinda, he might be my father, but I am perfectly capable of believing he might have lied. No one is perfect, especially those we love.”

“I don’t believe that you are able to detach yourself so easily from this particular set of circumstances. This isn’t just another case. It involves your
family
.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Then perhaps you could stop pretending to be so above it all.”

He rose from his seat to loom over her, and she forced herself not to flinch away. “Are you determined to make me choose a side?”

“Sometimes you have to.”

A muscle flicked in his cheek. “Ah, yes. Last time I chose
you,
and you ran away. Good morning, my lady.”

He was almost at the door before she took a hasty step toward him.

“Benedict, I’m not asking you to choose between your father and me. I’m asking you to use all your considerable gifts to solve this case.”

He turned around and stared down at her. “And then what?”

“Then we’ll know the truth.”

“That is all you require of me, is it, ma’am?”

She nodded.

“So that you can return to Alford Park and live out the rest of your days in peace.”

“That has always been my aim.”

“Of course, how could I have forgotten?” He swept her a low bow. “Then I’ll do my very best to ensure that it happens.”

He turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Malinda stared down at the polished walnut table and told herself not to be stupid. He’d made it very clear that he didn’t trust her, or anyone else for that matter. Despite everything, he still hoped his father would be innocent. Was he right? Was she too consumed in her need to make
his
father pay to be objective? Would it be better if both of them left the case to others?

She’d tried not to think about how he’d stood up for her in front of his father all those years ago. She’d never expected it, hadn’t believed him, hadn’t had enough faith in him to stay and fight for their marriage. Did that still rankle? Had he found it impossible to forgive her even after all this time? Perhaps he felt that defending his father now balanced out his earlier actions of mistakenly supporting her. He certainly seemed to have an issue trusting anyone.

It was lucky for him that she’d decided to tell him the truth, or else he wouldn’t have known . . . she paused and thought back over the conversation. With a curse, she flung open the door and went into Benedict’s office. Mr. Maclean looked up as she came in.

“His lordship went upstairs, my lady. I believe he was getting ready to go out.”

“Thank you.”

She ran up the stairs in a very unladylike fashion and stormed into his suite. He was in their bedroom collecting his outdoor coat, hat, and gloves. She shut the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.

“You already knew I’d gone with my father before I spoke to you.”

“What makes you think that?” He continued to study his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted the set of the pin in his cravat.

“Adam said I was seen with the party on the coast.”

“We were told that a young red-haired boy was with the soldiers. I guessed it might be you. You might recall that there weren’t any redheaded boys in our regiment.” He brushed the sleeve of his coat, his gaze fixed on the task.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t volunteered that information to you?”

“I had faith that you would, eventually.” He picked up his gloves and hat.

She stared at him. “Because if I hadn’t, you might have believed I was part of the conspiracy? Do you really think I would be involved in a plot to kill my own
father?
”

He looked at her then. “I had to make sure.” He walked toward her and she flinched out of his way. “If you insist I treat my father as a suspect, you can hardly expect me to treat you any differently.”

She let him leave and waited until she heard the outer door of the apartment slam before she slid down the wall to the floor and allowed herself to cry. What was worse was that she could see the logic in his decision, could even applaud his resolution to be evenhanded. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d just asked him to do?