The Daughter of an Earl (29 page)

“I understand, Winfred. It is all right. I, too, wish I had acted earlier,” she said.

“Well, I was right glad you wrote to me. After my room was ransacked, I asked for a week's leave. I took the time to visit Mr. Marsh, who you had warned me had been recently assaulted and that is why you had concerns for my safety. I had not seen Mr. Marsh since the viscount's funeral. He confided to me your plans to implicate Mr. Drummond in the viscount's death. He asked me if I could help, particularly in finding Drummond's valet.” He straightened in his seat and lifted his chin. “I can, and that is why I am here.”

Emily squeezed Julia's hand so tight she sucked in a sharp breath. “Winfred, do you . . . have you found evidence that could implicate Mr. Drummond in the viscount's death?”

“I have,” he stated, staring her straight in the eye. “When Marsh told me about your investigation, I took the rest of my week's leave to find Mr. Drummond's former valet, who left his employ after the viscount's death. I found out why he left. He was afraid, because he overheard Mr. Drummond berating a sepoy for his inaccurate shot at the viscount. Mr. Drummond said he was to kill the viscount, not wound him, so the man did not deserve the full amount that Mr. Drummond owed to him.”

“Good lord,” Daniel breathed.

Emily gave a sharp cry and covered her mouth. Julia's arm curled around her shoulders.

“He said more, too. He said Mr. Drummond had opium stashed in his room, and it was gone after the viscount's death. I saw Mr. Drummond leave the viscount's room right after he died. It was Mr. Drummond who gave the opium to the viscount. I do not know how he did, but he must have done so, because that is what they say killed the viscount.”

She sagged in her seat. She knew it! She had been right. Right all along. She wanted to cry in anguish and shout in triumph.

“Drummond will hang,” Daniel declared. “Will Drummond's former valet testify to this? Is he willing to speak to a magistrate? More important, we need to ensure his safety until he does so.”

“He is. He was scared to do so, but I convinced him to step forward. I told him the viscount's brother would no doubt give him a generous reward if Billy did so. If we both gave our testimonies. But I—” He paused to swallow. “I can do no less for the viscount. I just wish I could have done something sooner.”

Recovering, Emily smiled at Winfred. “This is enough, Winfred. Jason would be proud of your stepping forward like this.”

Winfred flushed, and ducked his head.

“We have Drummond on charges of attempted murder, but let us see if we can implicate him on embezzlement as well,” Daniel said, and nodded toward the portfolio.

Still reeling from the turn of events, Emily blinked. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, my mistake, the key.” With a sheepish look, Winfred leaned over to hand it to her.

Not daring to breathe, Emily unlocked the satchel, slid it open, and extracted a stack of envelopes. They were tied with a rose-colored ribbon that she recognized as one of her own. Through a blur of tears she ran her finger over Jason's name and address that was penned in her hand.

She recalled Winfred's words.
He had kept all your letters.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, and smiling wistfully, she hoped they had given Jason the same comfort that his had given her.

After a moment, she reached back into the satchel and withdrew Jason's diary. Not ready to review its contents, she placed it with the letters, exhaled, and then removed the hefty leather-bound ledger that barely fit into the confines of the portfolio. She held it in her hands for a moment, her pulse racing.

She opened the ledger to the middle, and then gave a choked laugh. “He has not made my journey easy.” Reams of columns and rows with figures were scrawled across the page in Jason's meticulous hand.

Daunted, she flipped through the pages, and then caught her breath when a sheaf of paper slipped loose. Curious, she lifted it and her eyes widened. “My pardon, I spoke too soon. What was I thinking? Of course, Jason would neatly tie up all his accounts. He was so meticulous about his work, would never leave anything to chance. He used to try my patience when he gave detailed instructions in regard to a simple task or problem, but not this time. For once, being annoyingly, wonderfully, magnificently fastidious is his most admirable attribute.” She lifted her face and smiled through the sheen of tears blurring her eyes.

“What is it?” Julia took the sheet, her eyes skimming
over it. “Good lord. It is all here in painstaking detail. It is Jason's testimony to the embezzlement of funds and then a full accounting of Drummond's culpability.” She laughed and turned to Emily, her eyes shining. “Do you understand what this means?”

Daniel beamed at Emily. “Of course she does. You probably never doubted that you would succeed, because once you set your mind to something—”

“—there is no talking you out of it,” Julia finished with a laugh. “I am so proud of you. So very proud, and so is Jason. I just know he is smiling down at you, never doubting that this moment would come. It must be why he sent the trunk to you.”

Emily drew back and swiped at her eyes, her head spinning. She had gotten justice for Jason. She yearned to revel in her triumph, but victory was bittersweet. Something was missing.

Someone
was missing, she corrected.

She needed Brett. She pressed her hand to her heart.

This triumph was not hers alone.

Brett had been there from the very beginning. He deserved to be here at the end. “Brett should be here. I need him to be with me.”

“He will be,” Julia murmured, and squeezed her hand.

“He will come through,” Daniel said. “After all you two have been through, he deserves to see Drummond's face when you charge the man with embezzlement
and
murder. Rest assured, he will not miss that moment. You have both earned it.”

Emily nodded, grasping onto their conviction like a lifeline. Brett would come through. She refused to contemplate anything less.

A
FTER
Winfred had departed, Emily was once again settled in the easy chair beside Brett's bed. The shooting had occurred yesterday morning; surely he should wake soon. She clutched his hand in hers and curled her fingers around his wrist, the rhythmic beat of his pulse a comforting balm.

“I have news.”

Emily jumped, unaware of her sister's approach.

Julia squeezed her shoulder. “That boy who works for Brett, Baines, is it? Well, Daniel engaged him to help with the search for the thugs who attacked your carriage. Daniel said that Baines can find a piece of copper wire buried in the stink and mud of the Thames, so it took some time, but he has scouted out the two thugs' hideout. Father has engaged Runners to apprehend them, so they should soon have answers as to who hired them. No doubt that will add one more charge on which to hang Drummond.”

“And when Brett wakes up, he will be able to identify the men,” she said with conviction. Sighing, she frowned at
his still form. “Stubborn, headstrong man. I told him he needed to protect himself and stop worrying about me. I warned him.”

Julia circled her chair and knelt before Emily. “And I understand he told you much the same. You know, when Brett wakes up, I doubt his first question will be about the men who shot him. It will be something closer to his heart, and which only you can answer.”

“You have been talking to Father,” Emily muttered.

“I cannot tell you how to respond, Emily. I know how much you loved Jason and the toll his death took on you, so I understand that it is frightening for you to risk loving another. But have you ever considered that the reason you took Jason's death so hard was because it came during a time when you had suffered so many losses? First, Mother died, and Father was lost to his own grief. I was struggling to care for Jonathan and keep the estate afloat. It was a bleak period, and Jason was like a bright beacon of light. When that was snuffed out, you must have felt as if you were plunged into darkness again.”

Stunned, her lips parted, her mind reeling at the implication of Julia's words.

“He is a good man, Emily. You have fought so valiantly for Jason, perhaps it is time that you fight for yourself,” Julia said softly. She closed her hands over Emily's and squeezed. “You deserve love. You deserve Brett. Not many men would risk their lives as he did.” She stood, gave Emily's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and turned to leave.

Emily pressed a hand to her temple. Frowning, she recalled her gut-wrenching loneliness before Jason, her despair over her mother's death, her father's inability to cope, and Julia's absence. She had been so young and so very alone.

Could Julia be right?

Could it have been a confluence of tragic events that had so shattered her? She blew out a breath, because the reasons for her breakdown no longer mattered. It was not important. The last two days had taught her what was important—that if there was darkness in her, she was older and stronger now.
She may stumble and falter, but she would not fall, and if she did, by God, she would pick herself up and forge ahead. That was all she could ask of herself—or of anyone.

It was the only good news to come out of this horrid nightmare, because if this did not break her, nothing would.

She straightened in her chair, lifted her chin, and smiled at Brett. “Well then. Now you have to wake up in order to propose properly. I need to begin planning our wedding. Such things take time.” She waited a moment, and then poked him in the chest when she received no response. “Are you listening? Please wake up. My nerves are frazzled, and I am not the only one suffering over you. Melody and Miranda are walking around half dazed and with red-rimmed eyes, and Daniel and Prescott are very sour-tempered.”

She sighed.

“If you wish to hear what I have found, you have to wake up, you thickheaded lummox.” She poked him again. Hard.

A groan escaped him, and she yanked her finger back, her pulse racing. “Brett?”

His eyes fluttered and eventually blinked open. He shifted his gaze around the room until his eyes locked on her. And then he simply stared.

She could see his pupils constrict as they came into focus with what she hoped was recognition. Her heart pounded, and the silence stretched taut. When she could stand it no longer, she bent over him. “Do you know who I am?” She took care to speak slowly and articulate each word.

He stared at her blankly.

She did not dare breathe. Nerves strained, she resisted the urge to give him another poke. When he finally responded, his words were a near whisper, so she leaned close.

“A sharp-taloned she-devil who has been poking and prodding me. And I am
not
a lummox.”

She straightened. “You are, regrettably, the same. I will never forgive you for upsetting me, your sisters, Prescott, and Daniel, for worrying everyone senseless.” She drew a shuddering breath and blinked furiously.

He moistened his lips. “Drew and Daniel do not have much sense to begin with, but I am sorry for upsetting you and the girls. I should have ducked as Drew advised. Fortunately, I have a hard head.”

With a half laugh and half hiccup, she pressed her lips to his temple. “It is a brilliant head.”

When she pulled back, his eyes softened and his gaze roved over her features as if memorizing each one. “I love you,” he said with tender solemnity.

She smiled, her heart pounding. “I love you, too.”

“Marry me, Emily.”

Her breath hitched and her eyes blurred. “Of course, I will marry you. How can I not? You are as mad as I. You stop bullets to protect me, and compose verse comparing me to the fair Athena. More important, I am mad. Madly in love with you.” She brushed his hair away from the bandage on his temple and pressed a gentle kiss on it.

When she sat back, his hand cupped her cheek. “You are not the only one with a fair hand with ink and pen,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I told you I would wear you down.” His hand slid to the nape of her neck and with a gentle urging, he drew her to him. Their lips met for a long, lingering kiss.

This was the real triumph of her quest. That this beautiful, brilliant man had fallen in love with her. He had stood by her, supported her, and believed in her. Her heart swelled with joy.

After a few moments, she drew back. Light-headed, she rested a hand gently on the blankets covering his chest. “Now then. You need to regain your strength. To get better so that we can meet with Lord Roberts and deliver the ledger and Jason's diary to him. We need to finish what we started so that I can begin planning our wedding. I—”

“You are good at planning,” he said with a smile, and tried to pull her back to him. “You will have the wedding organized in a day. What I need is—
What?
You have Jason's ledger and diary?
How? You
met with
Winfred?
Alone?
Devil take you! After all—” Brett struggled to rise
on his elbows, ignoring her protests. “Blast it, my head is pounding!”

“That is what happens when a bullet grazes it. Lie down, you thick-headed fool!” Desperate, she pressed on his shoulders, but he struggled against her. “Please, are you trying to rip open your wound? For goodness' sake, I did not meet Winfred alone. He came here, and Daniel and Julia were with me. I will tell you everything once you lie down, you obtuse man! I cannot marry you if you kill yourself.”

“I am getting up. Hang Winfred, but I am going with you to Lord Roberts. It is my company that charges were brought against and . . . and devil take it, I am as weak as a newborn babe, so let go.” He slapped at her hands.

“Dash it, he is still the same. I had hoped the bullet might have softened his hard head.”

Recognizing Daniel's amused drawl, Emily whirled to see him framed in the doorway, Prescott next to him, and Melody and Miranda crowding behind them. “Do not just stand there,” she cried. “Get in here and get him to listen to reason.”

The room flooded with people, Taunton and Julia joining the chaos. Brett was forced to lie back as Melody and Miranda fussed over him, grasping his hand and sniffling.

“You are all right? Do you recognize me?” Melody said, leaning close.

“Let me think,” Brett murmured and scrunched up his features. “Thunder? Is that you? What happened to your harness?”

“He thinks I am his horse!” Melody squealed, her hand covering her mouth.

“Oh for goodness' sake!” Emily said, exasperated. “He is teasing. He is fine.”

Melody dropped her hand and narrowed her eyes. “I cannot believe I shed one single tear over you. Drew is right. Your head is too thick to pierce.” She bent over him and kissed his cheek. “You are a wretched older brother. Miranda, Mr. Jenkins is due to pay another call this afternoon, and I need your help in determining what I should wear. I might have to go shopping.
Again
.”

“
Jenkins? Another call? Shopping? Again?
” Brett roared, but grimaced and pressed a hand to his head.

Miranda moved his arm aside to press a kiss to his bandaged head. “You need to rest, because your memory is not entirely returned. You forget, Melody gives back as good as she gets.” She tucked his blankets around him. “Welcome back. You had everyone worried. Do not do it again.”

“I never worried,” Prescott said. “I warned you to duck, not my fault that you never listen to me—or Lady Emily for that matter. We heard your bellows in the other room.”

Brett struggled to sit up, then seeing everyone crowd closer, he relented. “Fine. I will stay in this infernal bed under one condition. No one confronts Lord Roberts without me. Arrange for the meeting tomorrow. The throbbing in my head should be better by then, so you can all stop mollycoddling me. Except for Emily, who has agreed to marry me, and I am holding her to it.”

“I think . . . ,” Taunton began, but as Brett's words registered, the squeals of excitement drowned him out.

Julia rushed forward and gave Emily a fierce hug. She was then passed on to her father, Melody, and then Miranda.

Prescott and Daniel came over and pumped Brett's hand.

“I never doubted you would prevail,” Daniel said. “No mere bullet can thwart you.”

“I always wanted an older brother,” Julia said, and leaned down to kiss Brett's temple. “Welcome to the family.”

Emily smiled as Daniel and Prescott congratulated her.

“I have every faith that you will get him to listen better than he does to me,” Prescott said and winked.

“So, son, you need to regain your strength,” Taunton said, restoring order. “We have toasts to make, and you have a wedding to plan. As for meeting with Lord Roberts, we will do so the day
after
tomorrow.” Her father's tone brooked no dissent. “And we are
all
going. A show of force is warranted.”

Emily caught her father's hand and beamed. Then she glanced at Brett, who appeared to be weighing his options.

“Fair enough,” he relented. “Two dukes
and
an earl is gilding the lily, but if you insist.”

“We do.” Daniel and Prescott spoke in unison.

“And stop maligning dukes,” Prescott said, “or I still might petition the king to draft a patent of nobility, transferring the title to you.”

Emily sputtered out a horrified laugh.
That
was why Brett was so determined to find Prescott. To stop him. She grasped his hand in hers and lifted it to her lips, a smile curving her lips. “Your Grace.”

Brett scowled and turned on Prescott. “I appreciate your warning me about those thugs trying to shoot me, but now you can disappear again. This time, I promise not to look for you.”

Prescott simply laughed.

“Pay him no mind,” Daniel said. He leaned close to Prescott and added sotto voce, “He is always an ungrateful, ornery cuss when he is bedridden.”

“And take Daniel with you,” Brett said, narrowing his eyes.

“Gentlemen,” her father interceded. “If Mr. Curtis is to recover, he needs his rest. Emily?”

“In a minute.” Once they departed, she squeezed Brett's hand. “Two dukes, one earl, and my thickheaded protector.” When he grinned back, her smile broadened. She brushed his hair from his temple. He was not different after all.

He was the same arrogant, clever man with whom she had fallen irrevocably in love. And she was absolutely mad—to marry him.