Page 111 of The Mistletoe Countess
Frederick’s attention shifted to Celia. Her dark gaze bore into his with icy calculation. She wore one of the smaller hats, slanted slightly to cover one side of her forehead.
He couldn’t observe much about the driver except to note his broad build. Of the three men, he’d likely be the stoutest, and as the driver in front with Celia, he probably had the strongest attachment to her.
By consequence, this made him the most dangerous.
How Parks had involved himself in this messy business, Frederick had no idea, but he’d gotten his fingers in the mix before Edward died. Adoration for Celia paired with money troubles proved the likely motivators for Parks’s involvement, so desperate that the man would even forfeit his friendship with Edward.
Ah, Celia—like a spider, once she trapped a victim in her web, she secured that person by whatever means necessary.
Like she’d done to his mother.
Parks fidgeted with the hat in his lap, sweat beading across his thin-ning hairline.
A weak link, perhaps?
“Parks, I thought you were Edward’s friend.”
The accusation hit its mark. Parks’s fidgeting ceased, and he looked away, jaw tightening.
“What could she have possibly promised you to have you turn on your friend?” He kept his voice low. “Monetary gain, I’d suspect from the ledgers.”
“The ledgers?” Park’s gaze shot up. “How did you—”
“It can’t last long, though, can it? Celia drained him dry. But I suppose you already know that since you are the lone account holder for this embezzling. All in your name.” Frederick drew in a deep breath as if it was all a shame. “Not one cent can be traced to her. Clever, isn’t it?”
Parks grabbed Frederick’s collar. “Stop talkin’.” He spat out the threat.
“Don’t let him intimidate you, Parks, darling.” Celia cooed from the front seat, her green gaze resting on Frederick in warning. “We should have gagged him as well. He’s being quite a nuisance.”
“But he knows about the—”
“Havensbrooke may have been penniless three weeks ago.” Her poisonous gaze never left Frederick’s. “But it isn’t any longer. It’s fed by American money now, so don’t worry, Parks. You’ll be well taken care of.”
“I’ll not give you anything, Celia.”
“No?” Her smile took a devilish turn. “I believe with the right incentive, I can encourage a great deal of generosity.”
The knot in Frederick’s chest coiled tighter at the serpentine twist in her words.
“Yes.” She raised a finger to her lips, her gaze never leaving his face. Watching. Waiting for the slightest break in his demeanor. “Once we have you securely tucked away at the ruins, I’ll make my way to your home, where your darling Lady Astley will have no one to protect her. Turner isn’t fond of Americans, you see. Especially women. A lady treated his heart rather ruthlessly, didn’t she, Turner?”
Turner’s hand fisted in response.
“And your dear little wife wasn’t very forthcoming to Turner when he attempted to collect information on the ship from America. Rather snappish, wasn’t she, Turner?” Celia’s attention flickered back to Frederick. “So I imagine with Lady Astley at Turner’s ready disposal, you’ll give me whatever I want.”
“That’s an empty threat, Celia.” He kept his gaze locked on hers, refusing to bow to the intimidation. “What makes you think the police won’t arrest you as soon as you walk through the front doors?”
“They’re looking for two men who fit the descriptions of Turner and Parks.” Her brow peaked. “Not the mourning widow of the previous Earl of Astley.”
Parks turned his head in her direction, clearly off-put by this new revelation. Turner gave a similar reaction. Ah, maybe her followers weren’t as loyal as she thought. And in his favor, Celia had no idea Jack Miracle was on his way to Havensbrooke with the police even now, looking very specifically for the mourning widow.
A point he’d keep close to his chest.
“You doubt the intelligence and strength of my staff and my wife.”
“Well, she has been rather tiresome, I must say. You both have.” Celia sighed, her gaze raking over his face. “Though now I’m glad you didn’t drown in the river, or there would have been nothing to do for my financial future, since from what I understand, my dearly departed husband rearranged things at the last. Very unhusbandly of him, wasn’t it? And then to have police scouting about right after the car accident. We had to bide our time.”
The roof of the ruins came into view. “Of course, Rogers didn’t hear of our change in plans before he attacked you in London.” She shook her head. “No matter. He was a bit overeager at any rate, so Randolph had to dispose of him.” She ran a hand over the driver’s shoulder, an intimate touch. “He’s usually very good at dispatching people, except for this bride of yours, and she simply won’t follow the rules. Swimming? Riding astride? Using a hunting rifle?”
