Wedded in Sin (10 page)

She grimaced, scanning the floor for the telltale signs of vermin infestation. Sadly, she found them easily. “Mind where you step,” she warned. Who knew what creature might attack if its nest was disturbed.

Samuel apparently didn’t hear her as he was already sorting through the pile on the man’s desk. She stepped to a different pile—on a rickety bench like a schoolchild might once have used before it was discarded to the rubbish bin—and began looking at the papers there.

“What is all this?” she asked.

He didn’t even glance up. “Can you read?”

She stiffened, knowing it was a reasonable question, but insulted nonetheless. “I had an excellent education,” she lied.

He did look up at that, a slight frown on his face and a gaming token in his hand. “I didn’t ask about your education, I asked if you could read.”

She grimaced and spoke in stiff accents. “Yes, I can read.”

“Excellent. So read. We are looking for your father’s will or anything that has to do with you or your brother. Try not to disturb the piles overmuch. We are working in secret, though I doubt Mr. Addicock would notice if we tossed everything here into the air.” Then he returned to the pile on the desk. She stared at him a moment, watching the way he worked. His eyes were narrowed, his entire body focused and intent. Then without even glancing up, he added, “We are working against time, Penny. After that display of yours, young Ned will rush back to your side. I would have preferred it if you had begun some waterworks. That would have pushed him out the door faster and delayed his return.”

“Or it would have had him calling for the constable as he was told to do once I descended into hysterics.”

He shifted to a different pile, his hands moving methodically. “Which would have left us alone in here as well. It is not as if he could snap his fingers and have the man appear. One has to go
search
for the constable who, I’ll wager, would not be anxious to appear. Yes, all in all, waterworks would have been the more logical choice.”

“Of all the—”

“Please, Penny. We are short of time. If you do not wish to search the pages, at least step outside and watch for Ned’s return.”

She clenched her teeth against the words that were burning like acid on her tongue. “High-handed bastard” was the kindest epitaph she had for the man. But that would have served no purpose. So she held her tongue—though only barely—as she set to searching her pile of documents.

She was inordinately pleased when she came across exactly what they were looking for. Her father’s Last Will and Testament. She held it up with a gasp, reading the document as best she could. Many of the words were unfamiliar to her, the legal language looking closer to French than anything else.

“Damnation,” he cursed, and she jumped because she hadn’t even realized he’d made it to her side. “No wonder the man pays young Ned. His own handwriting is deplorable.”

True, but Penny’s father’s hand had been equally cramped. She could make out the letters easily enough. It was just the meaning that was lost. So she pointed, reading the words aloud.

“‘This is the Last Will and Testament of Carson Shoemaker. In the name of God. Amen. I, Carson Shoemaker—”

“Yes, yes. I can see that.” He pulled it out of her hand, then promptly stuck it under her nose and pointed. “Is that your father’s signature?”

She looked, her heart dropping into her stomach. It certainly looked like her father’s signature. “But it can’t be true!” she gasped. “He’d never do it!”

“Is it his signature?” Samuel repeated. “Or just a reasonable copy?”

She shook her head. She had no idea. She’d seen her father’s signature perhaps a dozen times in her life. She knew his handwriting like the back of her hand, but his signature? “He usually just wrote an S in the shape of a shoe.”

“That would not be his legal signature then. What about these other names? The witnesses, do you know them?”

She frowned and shook her head. “Never heard of them.”

He nodded as if he had expected as much. Then he took the paper to the desk and began rooting about for something. “Look for the bill of sale for your property. And if it mentions the bank, all the better.”

She nodded and began searching, all too aware that they were running out of time. But she still kept an eye on him as he found a sheet of paper. “What are you doing?”

“Copying the signatures,” he said as he carefully placed the blank paper over the fake will.

She wasn’t finding anything about the sale to Cordwain, so she returned to his side. “Just rip up the thing. It’s not true!”

Samuel didn’t answer, too intent on his work. She wasn’t sure how he managed. The foolscap was thin, but not thin enough to see through clearly. But when he lifted up the page and compared it to the original, the ink was surprisingly accurate.

But it didn’t matter. If a piece of paper could declare Addicock as Tommy’s guardian, then ripping up the lying paper would return things to normal. So thinking, she grabbed the page. Or she tried to. The damn toff was faster than she was, easily lifting the sheet out of her reach.

“You can’t destroy it,” he said as he moved back to the pile where she’d first found it.

“I bloody well can!”

He carefully replaced the sheet exactly where she’d first lifted it. How he knew the place was beyond her, but he did. “You’re supposed to be a lady, Penny,” he said without heat. “Do watch your language.”

She stepped up and meant to shove him aside. That damned will was going to be destroyed, but the toff was a great deal stronger than he looked. He easily held her off.

“Be logical, Penny. This is not the only copy. The important one was already filed into the courts. That’s the one that must be proved false.”

“But it’s not true!” She knew she wasn’t being reasonable. She knew that it was not the way to argue with Samuel. She knew, but she couldn’t stop the tears from threatening or the frustration from burning in her gut.

He sighed, looking at her with an impatient kind of sympathy. He opened his mouth to speak, but there wasn’t time. They both heard voices arguing from the front office.

They shared a panicked glance, then quickly dashed out of the office. “Get ready to delay them while I relock the door.”

“Delay them?” she hissed. “How?”

“Hysterics, anger, drunkenness. Good heaven, how should I know?” he shot back. “Now be quiet. This requires concentration.”

She would bloody well like to tell him what required concentration: trying to think of a way to hide a gent who was in full view, but she bit back her retort. Instead she laughed loudly and leaned against the door.

“Imagine me w’ all that money. Why, Tommy and me can finally have new clothes again.” She could already hear that Mr. Addicock and Ned had discovered the locked door and were trying to open it. So she slammed her hand against the door to hold it closed. “Ooh! I think they’ve returned!” she said loudly.

She looked back at Samuel, whose face had flushed red and she was pretty sure she heard him mutter a very impressive curse.

The lock slipped back with a thunk and the doorknob turned. “Oooh, wait!” she cried. “I’ll get the door. Here. Let me unlock it.” Bracing the door shut with her foot, she shoved the key into the lock and relocked it. Then she made a show of turning the knob. “Here now, Mr. Addicock. Oh, blimey! Did I lock it?”

On the other side of the door, she could hear Mr. Addicock cursing her. She laughed loudly. “Silly me! Just a moment! I dropped the key.”

She turned back to Samuel, glaring at him even though he couldn’t see. Damn the man. He’d gotten the door open in half the time. Below her hand, she felt Addicock insert his own key and twist it open. She hadn’t the time to relock it again. She was just about to fling herself bodily against the door when Samuel crowed softly and straightened up. Success!

“About bloody time,” she hissed as she stepped back.

“Language, my dear,” he shot back. Then the door flew open as an obviously angry Addicock stormed in. He was a fleshy man with sagging jowls and florid skin. But his eyes were disconcertingly pretty with long lashes over his brown eyes.

“What cause have you to lock me out of my own office?” he bellowed.

Samuel was at Penny’s side in an instant, his manners congenial, but his general stance protective. It was such an odd moment for her. Not even her father had ever done such a thing. Only her mother when she thought a customer was getting too friendly. And that had been more to shoo Penny into the back than anything else.

So when Samuel suddenly stepped between herself and Mr. Addicock, it left her startled and flustered. Part of her wanted to shove him away, and truthfully if it were a usual day, she would have. But today had been the worst of all her days, except for the night she’d learned her parents had died. So when a handsome man stepped between her and the thieving man who’d stolen everything from her, she allowed it to happen. She even exhaled in relief.

It gave her time to search for a weapon with which to kill the bastard.

Meanwhile, Samuel was smiling his generally flustered, half-mad smile. “Ah well, Miss Shoemaker has been feeling a bit unsettled ever since her parents died. She was scared, you see, so I locked the door myself. As a way to calm her nerves. Delicate creatures, women, but it’s usually best to humor them.”

Addicock wasn’t fooled, but Ned obviously was. He stepped forward to offer her his hand. “No need to be afraid now. I’ll make sure everything’s right and tight for you, Miss Shoemaker.”

Penny smiled. She wanted to roll her eyes that this boy had obviously gone sweet on her. She was much too old for him, not necessarily in years, but in experience. And yet, that same experience told her that she should never disdain kindness even if it was from an earnest young man.
Especially
an earnest young man who was apprentice to her enemy.

But it made her feel like the lowest worm to play on his sympathies as if she were interested in him. Still, she took young Ned’s hand.

“Thank you,” she breathed with enough huskiness to make poor Ned color up to his ears. Then she turned to Mr. Addicock. “Could we not go into your office now? I should like to understand.”

The man’s brows drew even more tightly downward but he didn’t so much as twitch. It was obvious he couldn’t decide what his next move should be—whether to throw her out or allow her deeper into his clutches. Fortunately, Samuel was there to force the decision.

He smiled and spoke gently. “She just wishes to understand the terms of her father’s will. She has that right, Mr. Addicock. And I am here to see that nothing untoward happens.”

Addicock’s gaze snapped up to Samuel’s. “Untoward? There’s nothing untoward about any of this!”

A guilty confession if ever there was one, and Penny twitched with the need to scratch the man’s eyes out. Fortunately, Ned was already moving her toward the office door.

“Of course you want to know, Miss Shoemaker. I’m sorry I didn’t know your father. I wasn’t working the day he made up his will. But Mr. Addicock was just telling me that he was a kind and generous man. A good man. They were friends, you know. And he did right by picking Mr. Addicock here as his solicitor. He’ll make sure everything is right and tight for you.”

Penny stared at the boy. He couldn’t possibly believe everything he was saying. For one thing, her father was not a kind or generous man, or at least he wouldn’t have been to poor Ned. Her father, as a rule, was as pinchpenny as they came and had little respect for apprentices. But one look at Ned’s earnest face told her that he did indeed believe in her father’s good nature and Addicock’s as well. “But don’t you work every day? Saturdays, too?”

The boy frowned. “Yes, miss.”

“Then how could you not have been here—”

“It was a Sunday,” Addicock snapped as he stepped in front of Ned, probably to block the doorway. But when everyone stopped to stare at him, he had little choice but to open it. He glared at Penny as if all this were her fault. And then once again, Samuel stepped in the way.

“By ‘untoward,’ I meant that I would keep Miss Shoemaker from any unseemly displays of emotions. She’s delicate, as I said. And it’s excruciatingly hard to do business with a wailing woman in the room. I assure you, it’s my only purpose here.”

Delicate? Wailing? Good God, the toff was giving her a hard role to play. And right there, as if to spite her, the seething anger roiled in her throat. She’d have choked if she weren’t so used to swallowing it down.

Addicock spent one moment more staring at Samuel, and then he gave a slight nod, which Samuel echoed. Right there, plain as day: the silent communication between men who promised to keep their dirty secrets away from the women. It fueled the anger inside her, burning it to a fever pitch. All of a sudden, everything she had ever doubted about Samuel—the crazy toff—surged to the fore. He was supposed to be
her
ally, and yet here he was trading nods with the bastard who had stolen everything from her.

“Why, you bloody—”

Samuel whirled around, his eyes blazing with alarm. “A moment more, Penny. I promise you, everything will be all right in a trice.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. The question was, would she trust him to play out his game? Or was he yet another man intent on cheating her?

She bit her lip. She’d already made her choice a few hours ago. Only a stupid fool would throw away her last hope on a temper tantrum. So she swallowed down her fury—again—and forced herself to act wilting.
Wilting
, for God’s sake.

“It’s just been a rather difficult day,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Of course,” Samuel said. Then he threw a warning glance at Addicock. “Please, let’s progress with this quickly. No need for dramatics, what?”

The bastard nodded—obviously feeling a masculine kinship with Samuel in the need to avoid female hysterics—and quickly opened his office door. Ned and Samuel together led Penny to a chair as if she hadn’t spent most of her life hauling wood and working leather. She sat gingerly in the seat, more because she wanted room to leap up and scratch the bastard’s eyes out than because she was feeling “delicate.” Either way, Samuel and Ned hovered solicitously over her while Addicock went straight to the pile that held the will.