Jo Goodman (58 page)

Severn flatly claimed all of it lies, but Patterson was finally moved to believe the majority. Absent among the accounts was one from Ponty Pine. Severn did not mention his presence in the clearing because he knew the man wouldn't support his story. Mercedes and Colin were silent because they knew the sheriff would arrest him.

When Aubrey brought Mr. Patterson to the hunting lodge at Rosefield, Ponty Pine was already gone. At Mercedes's urging he had hidden in the woods until Colin could safely get him to Weybourne Park. Since then he had been a boarder in the north wing. The twins took great delight in secreting him away whenever Mr. Patterson approached. It had been planned for Ponty to leave with Aubrey when the
Mystic
sailed, but he refused. The investigation was too unsettled at that point, and he wanted to be available in the event the stories came unraveled.

The pickpocket's presence was not intrusive. He kept mostly to himself unless someone made a point to include him. He was invariably cheerful, almost purposely so, but sometimes Mercedes caught him in an unguarded moment watching Colin with the boys. She saw a look of such longing that it made her heart ache for him.

Mrs. Hennepin was the one who found his stay at the Park most trying. Anticipating that he would take anything that was not hammered to the floor, she watched him closely. At the housekeeper's orders, the maids were occupied with a daily linen inventory, and Mrs. Hennepin herself counted the silver. Embarrassed and apologetic, there was little Mercedes could do to stop the endless counting. Their houseguest, she noticed, pretended he wasn't aware of the housekeeper's suspicions, but he bedeviled poor Mrs. Hennepin by moving jade figurines from one location to another and rearranging the silverware drawers.

The start of Britton and Brendan's school year was delayed by the affairs of Weybourne Park. They were restless now and up to every trick. Waiting had never been their strong suit and what one of them didn't think to do, the other one did. It was Colin's patience that kept Mercedes from locking them in the north turret until they were twenty.

When the twins weren't requiring her attention it was Sylvia or Chloe who came to her. On the occasion they came together, announcing their plans to have a double wedding, Mercedes actually retired to her room to recover her wits. Sylvia's engagement to Aubrey Jones in the midst of so much confusion was one thing, but planning a wedding for sisters with ever changing minds, was quite another.

In the midst of all the activity, Colin Thorne was the eye of the storm. Mercedes did not need a reason to seek him out. He made a place for her in whatever he was doing. She appreciated his silence and came to understand that it made her more thoughtful.

In the beginning there were nightmares. She dreamed of things long suppressed and woke up cold and frightened. He listened to her then. Sometimes he would slip his hand into hers. Sometimes he was only a presence. He seemed to know what she wanted without her giving voice to it.

One evening he carried her out to the portico, and she sat huddled in his embrace on the stone balustrade. They counted six shooting stars before she fell asleep in his arms. For Colin it was the answer to every wish he had made.

The odd turns of fate and coincidence that had ultimately brought them together did not seem so remarkable to Mercedes now. Rather they seemed inevitable, as if cast in the very stars they took pleasure in watching. It was a fanciful notion and one Mercedes didn't share with Colin. He had a more pragmatic nature, and until now, she thought the same was true of her.

Colin balanced his cup of tea in one hand and took Mercedes by the other. When he sat down in the large leather wing chair she needed no urging to join him. She was tucked comfortably across his lap. Her sigh was telling.

Leaning forward, Colin kissed the crown of her dark hair. He didn't press her to go to bed. For now this was all that she wanted and all that he needed. "Are you worried about Severn's appearance at the assizes tomorrow?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Not any longer. I only want it settled. Even Mr. Patterson is in agreement that the Park is legitimately yours. Severn can't really say you cheated to win the wager, can he? Not when he doesn't want anyone to know there was another witness to what happened at the lodge."

Colin nodded. "He must wonder why we've never mentioned Ponty."

"I hope he's eaten up with curiosity," she said.

One of Colin's brows kicked up. "A most uncharitable thought."

"I don't care." And she meant it. Mercedes sipped her tea. "Have you considered how it could have turned out without Ponty's help?"

Sobering, Colin said, "Every day."

"He doesn't want to hear it."

"That's because in part he blames himself."

Mercedes sat up a little straighter. "What? Why would he do that?"

"Because he believes if he'd never heard the rumors in the Boston taverns, if he'd never looked up the earl to learn his game, and if he'd never lied about sailing with me on the
Mystic
's record run, your uncle would have stayed in Boston. Ponty's first thought was that his involvement would protect us. Everything that followed has made him wonder if he didn't place us in more danger."

Mercedes set her cup on the table at her side. "Then he doesn't really appreciate my uncle's nature. Or Severn's, either."

"I'm not the one you have to convince."

"You're right." She sighed again. "I should have known he was thinking along those lines when he refused to leave with Aubrey. Mrs. Hennepin's convinced he stayed because he plans to steal the few valuables we have left in the manor."

Colin chuckled. His cup joined Mercedes's. "Like he stole the pistol from under Severn's jacket."

"He proved what a clever pickpocket he really is." Her fingers tripped lightly down the front of Colin's shirt then brushed back and forth along the edge of his trousers. She stared straight in his eyes. "How do you suppose he did that without Severn noticing?"

"I don't know, but I can feel your hand."

"You can? Hmmm. I must not be so light-fingered as Ponty." Her smile teased him as much as her hands. "Do you think he might teach—"

Colin grasped her wrists as she fondled him. "No," he said. "I like it this way."

Mercedes leaned forward and kissed him deeply. His grip loosened on her wrists and her hands were free to move again.

Neither of them immediately heard the scratching at the doors. It was when the sound changed to a hesitant knock that they broke apart. Mercedes jumped to her feet, repairing her hair and smoothing her gown. Colin tucked his shirt and straightened his jacket. He raked his hair with one hand and cast Mercedes an accusing glance. Except for the dark, widening centers of her eyes she looked remarkably innocent. If she ached it was not so noticeable as the one she had caused between his thighs.

"I thought they were all abed," he fairly growled. Feeling much like an untried schoolboy caught out with the headmaster's wife, Colin picked up the book he was reading and pretended to give it his attention.

Mercedes opened the doors. It was the housekeeper on the other side of the threshold. "Yes?" Mercedes may have appeared all untouched sweetness, but her voice held a husky timbre she could not disguise. She cleared her throat and tried again. "What is it, Mrs. Hennepin?"

"Begging your pardon, but you and the captain have a visitor. The earl's come to call."

For a moment Mercedes couldn't think what that meant. It flashed through her mind that Mrs. Hennepin was talking about her uncle, no matter how impossible that was. Behind her, she heard Colin coming to his feet and crossing the room.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Lord Fielding's here," she said. "I couldn't turn him away."

Mercedes frowned. "Severn's father is here? Now? At this hour?" She didn't expect an answer from Mrs. Hennepin. She looked to Colin. "What can he possibly want?"

Colin touched Mercedes's shoulder lightly. "Show him in, Mrs. Hennepin. We'll be honored to receive him here."

The Earl of Rosefield entered the library unassisted except by his ebony-knobbed cane. His gait was slow but deliberate. His complexion had a gray cast and where the veins were close to the surface it took on a cold, marble appearance. The lines of his face were nearly immobile, as if permanently and deeply etched in stone. He looked every one of his seventy-eight years.

"Thank you for receiving me," he said stiffly.

Mercedes was gracious. "It's an unexpected pleasure. Please, won't you sit down and allow me to ring for a fresh pot of tea?"

"Something stronger," Colin said. The earl's expression wasn't merely haggard. The man looked as if he was in the throes of some shock. "Scotch?"

"Tea," the earl said. "My doctors tell me that—" He interrupted himself with a dismissive wave of his hand and cane. "Bah! What do they know? Scotch will be fine. Three fingers."

Colin poured a generous amount for the earl and a little for himself. He presented Lord Fielding with the tumbler then joined Mercedes on the sofa. There was no exchange of pleasantries. The earl came to the point of his visit immediately.

"I've only just come from the jail," he said. "There has been an accident. Lord Severn... Marcus..." He looked down at the tumbler. His hand shook and the liquid rippled. "My son is dead." His eyes found Mercedes as she gasped softly. "It's rather more shocking than it is sorrowful. I'm afraid that is as much pain as I have been able to feel at his passing. These past weeks... learning of his passion for cruelty... the extent of his deceit... it has been..." His voice, or words, failed him. He drank deeply.

"How could this happen?" Mercedes said softly.

"You may well ask, but the particulars will not surprise. With court tomorrow Marcus took it upon himself to attempt an escape. He struggled with the turnkey, and his head was hit against the stones. The physician that was summoned said it was not the blow but the angle at which his head hit. The injury was to his neck. It was broken by the fall."

Neither Colin nor Mercedes spoke, and the Earl of Rosefield was glad for it. "It is difficult to know what to say, is it not? Do not trouble yourselves to make a reply. I well know the hardships my son has visited upon you. You may both think that I have come only as a bearer of this night's grim news, but in truth, I had planned this visit all along. It was only Marcus's death which kept it to so late." Mercedes's surprise was near the surface. Captain Thorne, he noticed, was a deeper well of emotion.

"Captain, if you will see my man in the drawing room, he has some papers which will be of particular interest to you. Fetch them, please. I will explain them in full."

With only the slightest hesitation, Colin rose and complied with the earl's request. He returned in a few minutes. Mercedes and the earl were talking in low tones and they stopped when he entered the room. He handed the earl the documents. They were bound by a black ribbon and the color of the paper attested to their age.

The earl let his cane rest against the arm of his chair and set the documents in his lap. "I found these in Marcus's London house. He had no right to them, of course. They were mine. I came in possession of them when my solicitor passed away some twelve years ago. I cannot say at what point Marcus found them, read them, or understood their import. He never told me he had them, and I did not miss them. As far as I knew they were safely stored in the same place where I keep all things I can't part with but don't wish to remember daily."

His hand trembled as his fingers smoothed the ribboned documents. "Forgive me," he said. "You are kind to be patient."

"Please," Mercedes said, genuinely concerned. "If it troubles you so much, then let it rest. Perhaps those papers, whatever their content, are best put back in that safe place."

The earl would have none of it. A measure of color returned to his face as the Scotch settled warmly in his belly. "No, I will have my say. I told Marcus as much and he knew what it meant for him." His voice dropped to a gravel pitch. The admission was a difficult one to make. "It may be that it prompted him to act as he did tonight."

"You take too much on yourself," Mercedes said quietly.

Lord Fielding held up his hand and stopped her. "No more than I deserve," he said. "Probably less." He clasped his fingers together and formed a single fist. He rested it heavily on the documents in his lap. "I will allow you to read these after I'm gone, but permit me to explain their context. They represent the tireless work of Mr. Elliot Willoughby who was in my employ for more than thirty years. The last eight years of his life he devoted entirely to finding the whereabouts of my grandsons."

Mercedes frowned. "Not Severn's children."

"Hardly. He was a very young man himself then. These were the children of my firstborn son and Marcus's half-brother. I had three children, Mercedes. John and James and Marcus. James was an infant when he died. Scarlet fever took him and my wife, but John was untouched by it and grew up to be a fine man, headstrong and opinionated and proud, like his father, but unlike me, blessed with tolerance and a charitable heart." The earl cleared his throat and for a moment he looked uncomfortable. "If I may speak plainly?"

Mercedes nodded. Colin, she saw, reserved judgment.

"Marcus is my bastard son, the by-blow of an unfortunate and ill-advised liaison. He lived with his mother the first fourteen years of his life and may have continued to do so if it weren't for the death of my other son. It was after confirming that event that I finally did what John had asked me to do years earlier: recognize his half-brother."