Page 75 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
It was terrifying.
He pulled his hands away.
She didn’t say anything. She just waited, giving him time.
He exhaled slowly.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“The latest refugee is a violent man. He had his brutes pick me up. They said he’d already paid my lackey for what belonged to him. And that he was not interested in any further business.”
“Furtherbusiness? What belonged to him . . .” She looked shocked. “Oh, good heavens. He’d bought back what was stolen from him? Then someonehasfound the jewels!”
“And William’s copy of the list, as well, it would seem. He must have been selling the jewels back to them, the bastard.” Fury shot down his spine. “Whoever it is, he’s thieving from them again.”
“But who? Who would do such a thing?”
The suspicion hit them at the same time. They looked at each other in stunned dismay.
The door connecting Charlotte’s room crashed open. The hall boy came in. “It’s Hurley,” he said, his tone ringing. “It’s Hurley doing it!” He pointed an accusing finger at Charlotte. “And she sent him packing!”
Appalled, Whiddon looked to his wife. “Hurley’s gone?”
Anger visibly moved over her like a storm taking over the sky. She vaulted to her feet. She glared at the boy, then at him. “Yes, he is gone. There was nothing else to be done.”
Whiddon started to speak, but she raised a finger and pointed it at him. “Don’t say a word. Either of you. That is enough. That is the outside of enough!” Her bosom heaved enticingly as she drew in a great breath. “This household is far past due for a few fundamental truths.” She grabbed the boy by the wrist. “Isn’t that true,Elizabeth?”
The boy—wait, no. Elizabeth?
The realization hit him, blazing bright as lightning. Elizabeth! His sister? Whiddon stared. Was it true? Judging by the sheer panic crossing the urchin’s face, he judged it must be.
She tried to wrench free, but Charlotte held on to her. “He grabbed you by your shirtfront,” she said fiercely. “I saw his face! He’d realized you were a woman. He would have figured out who you were, soon enough. And what do you think he would have done with that knowledge? He was already skimming your wages when he thought you were the hall boy! What would he have done to the daughter of the house, in his power? Caught in disguise, with no one else knowing it was you? He could have done anything. Blackmail. Rape. Kidnapping. He is above none of it! I had to get him away from you.”
Elizabeth stopped struggling. Elizabeth. His baby sister. When was the last time he’d seen her? She’d been ten, perhaps eleven. She would be just past fifteen, now. He narrowed his gaze, trying to see past the cropped hair and the smudged face. “God’s teeth, how did I miss it? You look like William did, as a boy.” He frowned, suddenly. “Wait. Why are you not in Hertfordshire?”
She glared back at him, the minx. “Because I’m tired of being stuck in the back of beyond. Tired of being pushed out of this family!”
“But there’s been no word. You’ve been here. . . how long? There’s been not a whisper that you’ve gone missing.”
“You don’t even know how long I’ve been here,” she sneered. Tossing her head back, she slung her explanation at him, “Aunt Emily thinks I am touring the Lake District with a friend.”
“Elizabeth.” He took a step toward her and her color blazed. She stepped back against Charlotte. “Don’t come near me,” she cried. “I hate you! You left me in Hertfordshire. You stopped visiting.” Tears began to flow down her face. “They wouldn’t let me go to William when he was wounded. They wouldn’t let me go to his funeral! I never got to say goodbye!” Turning, she began to sob into Charlotte’s shoulder.
Whiddon stared at his wife, stunned. “I only just figured it out, today,” she said quietly.
They both stilled as the door opened and Chapman rushed in. Whiddon sighed as he caught a glimpse of Old Alf lingering in the passage outside.
“Sir! I’ve only just heard you were injured?” The valet stared in horror at the discarded neckcloth and the blood stains on his shirt. Whiddon started to answer, but Charlotte beat him to it.
“His lordship is fine, Chapman. He’ll need new linen. Please help him dress.” His wife turned to him, her expression fierce. “We need further discussion. Now. And we need to do it where we won’t be overheard. E—” She swallowed. “Eli and I will be in the garden in the square. Meet us out there as soon as you are able.”
Taking a hold of Elizabeth’s arm, she pulled his sister out into the corridor. He could hear her admonishing Old Alf for loitering about as they moved away.
“What on earth has happened, my lord?” Chapman’s worry was clear as he came close enough to inspect his wounded skull.
“Help me change and I’ll fill you in.”
By the time his clothes were restored, Chapman had a grasp of the situation.
“There might be reason to take heart, sir,” the valet mused. “If it is Hurley and he only has the list of names, then it’s possible he has not been able to reach very many of them. Not to give myself airs, sir, but some of those men have tried hard to reinvent themselves. Most were not at all easy to find.”
“It’s slim comfort, but I’ll take it. Get out your notes, man, and when I come back inside, we’ll figure out who Hurley might have been able to track down. We know of one for sure and I suspect at least one other—that last refugee’syethas lingered in my head longer than the drubbing he gave me. Now I know why.”
“I’ll have them ready.”
“We’ll have to double our efforts,” he told the valet as he set out. “We have to reach as many as we can before Hurley does.”
