The Truth About Lord Stoneville (28 page)

Maria choked down a laugh. It was rather fun to watch Oliver out-defraud the defrauder.

That brought an uneasy expression to Nathan’s face. “No,” he admitted, “but you could have offered me cash. Offering me jewelry smacks of desperation.”

“I don’t generally carry large amounts of cash with me in these days of highwaymen and thieves,” Oliver said with a pointed stare. “The pearls were for her. But if you wish to return to London with me, I could arrange to give you cash. Of course the amount would have to be lower, to compensate me for my trouble. And it would take you away from Southampton at a time when you will be wanting to secure your second pigeon. A Miss Kinsley, I believe?”

When Miss Kinsley stiffened beside her, Maria grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard.

Nathan looked none too happy to have his circumstances so well known. He glanced nervously at Oliver, then at the pearls. Then he snapped the box shut. “Very well, my lord. We have a deal.”

“The hell you do!” Maria cried out, dashing into the room. She barely noticed that the others stayed behind in the hall.

Nathan looked disconcerted by her appearance, and Oliver looked alarmed. “Leave this to me, Maria,” he said tersely.

“The only way that scoundrel is getting your mother’s pearls,” she shot back, “is if I strangle him with them.” She marched up and snatched the box from Nathan. “Besides, you already gave them to me.”

“And you left them behind,” Oliver reminded her. “Gran said you refused to keep them.”

“Well, I want them now.”

“At the risk of being dragged through the courts?” he said, coming to her side. “Of having your name maligned by this vermin?” He lowered his voice. “Do you really want him examining every action you’ve taken in the past two weeks, having it all laid out before a judge?”

She could tell he was thinking of her appearance at the brothel and the unpleasantness there, not to mention her public betrothal to him. “Let him do his worst.” She had an ace in the hole.

She was about to call for Miss Kinsley when Oliver said, “Hyatt won’t let go of this matter without some financial consideration. With 125,000 pounds at stake—”

Nathan’s bark of laughter cut him off. “Is that what she’s told you her half of the company is worth, Lord Stoneville?” Nathan sneered. “Now I understand why a marquess is sniffing around her.”

Oliver’s eyes turned a dangerous shade of black. He seized the man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. “I don’t give a damn what her half of the company is worth, you little worm. She could come to our marriage with nothing but the gown on her back and I wouldn’t care. She’s worth more to me than any amount of money. If you had an ounce of sense, she’d be worth more to you, too.”

As Nathan clawed at Oliver’s hands, struggling for air, Maria hurried to lay her hand on Oliver’s arm. “You promised not to throttle him,” she reminded him, though she was rather enjoying it.

After a second’s hesitation, he released Nathan with a look of disgust.

Maria glanced back toward the doorway. “Mr. Pinter? Would you mind?”

As Mr. Pinter, Freddy, and Miss Kinsley entered the room, the blood drained from Nathan’s face. When Oliver cast Maria a quizzical glance, she smiled. “Oliver, this is Miss Jane Kinsley. Miss Kinsley, the Marquess of Stoneville.”

“Delighted to meet you, my lord,” Miss Kinsley said with a pretty curtsy, while Nathan stood there agape.

“Likewise,” Oliver said, clearly not sure what to make of her presence there.

“Miss Kinsley,” Nathan said, having recovered his equilibrium, “I don’t know what these people have been telling you, but—”

“They didn’t tell me anything that surprised me, once I thought about it.” Miss Kinsley regarded him with the look of disgust girls reserved for snails and frogs. “Any man who would suggest to a young woman that she should elope rather than listen to her papa’s advice can only be up to no good.”

“Elope?” Oliver queried, his eyes narrowing on Miss Kinsley. “This scoundrel proposed marriage to you?”

“Now, Miss Kinsley,” Nathan began in his best placating voice, “we both know it wasn’t like—”

“Quiet!” Oliver snapped at him. “Or I swear not even Maria will keep me from throttling you.”

Nathan swallowed. Hard.

Miss Kinsley sniffed. “Yesterday Mr. Hyatt snuck into our garden where I was trimming the roses, and told me we should run off together. You see, Papa had ordered him not to come to the house anymore. Papa thought he was getting too chummy, and since I have a very large dowry—”

A smile lit Oliver’s face. “And by ‘large dowry,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“I hardly see how that’s pertinent,” Nathan cut in.

“Stubble it,” Oliver growled. “Miss Kinsley? Do you mind?”

“Twenty thousand pounds.”

Oliver fixed Nathan with an amused glance. “I’m sure the court would be very interested to hear this news.” He looked at Mr. Pinter. “What do you think, sir? Would a judge pay much attention to a breach of promise suit if the woman changed her mind about the marriage because she discovered that her fiancé had proposed marriage to another woman?”

“I doubt they’d even allow it to go to trial,” Mr. Pinter said with a smug smile. “They might even suggest that the woman had grounds for her own breach of promise suit.”

A look of panic crossed Nathan’s face. “I did not propose marriage to Miss Kinsley! You can’t listen to her! She’s a complete henwit!”

“Don’t you dare insult her!” Freddy put in, brandishing his sword.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Hyatt,” Oliver drawled. “Young Freddy here is liable to thrust without thinking.”

“But she’s turning everything round all wrong,” Nathan protested. “Why would I propose marriage to Miss Kinsley when it would ruin my hope of ever owning New Bedford Ships?”

“Perhaps because those hopes were already ruined?” Mr. Pinter offered, a positively nasty look crossing his face. “I understand that Mr. Kinsley had decided not to buy your ships after all.”

Nathan was having trouble breathing now. “That’s . . . that’s not true.”

“Papa said it was,” Miss Kinsley put in helpfully. “He told Mama he wasn’t sure of your ability to follow through. That’s why he didn’t want you coming around the house anymore.”

“And he was your last chance,” Mr. Pinter put in. “You didn’t know that Mr. Butterfield was dead, and without the deal you’d placed all your hopes in, you saw your future sunk with the Butterfields. He would have refused to allow you to marry his daughter, and you would have been stuck with only half the company, which did you no good since you couldn’t afford to purchase the other half.

“So your next best choice was to marry Miss Kinsley and her twenty thousand pounds. Unfortunately for you, Miss Kinsley knew better than to fall for your blandishments, since she had attended Mrs. Harris’s School for Young Ladies.”

When Oliver burst into laughter, Maria asked, “What’s that?”

Miss Kinsley straightened her shoulders. “It’s a school that teaches heiresses how to recognize fortune hunters. They warned us about elopements. ‘If a fellow can’t ask your papa for your hand properly,’ Mrs. Harris always said, ‘there’s a good chance his intentions are suspect.’ ”

“Aha!” Freddy said, twirling the sword at Nathan. “I should call you out, sir, for imposing upon Miss Kinsley!”

“For God’s sake,” Nathan mumbled, “you’re all mad.”

“And when Miss Kinsley didn’t agree to run off with you,” Mr. Pinter went on, “and Miss Butterfield showed up here to inform you of her father’s death, you decided to pick up where you had left off with her.”

“Except that I am no fool, either,” Maria said.

“So you tried to bully her.” Oliver’s eyes glittered as he came to her side. “I wouldn’t blame her if she
did
decide to bring a breach of promise suit against you. She might even win the other half of her father’s company.”

When Nathan looked positively weak in the knees, Maria said, “It’s not worth my trouble. You may keep that, Nathan, since you actually earned it. Maybe you can even find another heiress to provide you with the blunt to buy the other half.”

Her voice hardened. “But whatever your decision, you’d best make it quick. I have waited quite long enough for my money. If I don’t hear from you or your attorney by next week, I’ll be forced to hire one of my own. You can find me at Halstead Hall in Ealing, where I’ve been staying.”

She looked up at Oliver. “Now, my lord, I should like to go home.”

“Certainly, my dear.” Giving her his arm, he led her out.

When they all emerged into the street, Freddy offered to walk Miss Kinsley home. As the two walked off, Maria turned to Mr. Pinter. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done, sir.”

“You can add my thanks to that,” Oliver surprised her by saying.

“I merely found the man,” Mr. Pinter said. “Freddy discovered all the pertinent information.”

The three of them glanced down the street to where Miss Kinsley was clinging to Freddy’s arm and gazing up at him adoringly.

“Now there’s a match made in heaven,” Mr. Pinter added.

“Or in a pie shop,” Maria quipped. “Though it doesn’t sound as if Mr. Kinsley is the sort of father to approve of Freddy as a suitor.”

“You never know,” Oliver remarked. “Freddy will be cousin to a marchioness, after all. That might tip the scales in his favor.”

Mr. Pinter swung a solemn gaze to Oliver. “So you were sincere about offering marriage to Miss Butterfield.”

“Utterly sincere.” Oliver covered her hand with his. “If she’ll have me. I can offer her little, considering what a wreck I’ve made of my life until now. But I love her.”

The Bow Street runner gave a faint smile. “Well, that’s the important thing, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is,” Maria said. “As soon as I receive my money, Mr. Pinter, I’ll happily pay whatever fee you require. I’ll recommend you to all my friends, as well.”

Oliver squeezed her hand, then glanced at Mr. Pinter. “Actually, I’d like to hire you myself, Pinter. If you’ll come out to the estate sometime next week, we can discuss it.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Mr. Pinter said.

“And now,” Oliver said, “if you don’t mind, I wish to take my fiancée for a stroll in that park. We’ll see you at the inn.”

“Certainly,” Mr. Pinter said.

Maria and Oliver walked together, her arm in his and her heart filled with love. She still couldn’t believe the things he’d said to Nathan about her. She would cherish them always.

As soon as they were under the trees, Oliver said, “I have this special license burning a hole in my pocket, so I was thinking we might go find a vicar and use it. Pinter and Freddy can act as witnesses.” He looked anxiously at her. “What do you think?”

“Don’t you want your family present when we marry? I thought you lordly sorts had to have grand weddings.”

“Is that what you want?”

In truth, she’d never been one to dream of her wedding day as a brilliant spectacle. Clandestine weddings were always what captured her imagination, complete with a dangerous, brooding fellow and mysterious goings-on. In this instance, she had both.

He said, “Let me put it this way: we can spend an untold number of days sneaking around just to steal a kiss, being chaperoned every minute while my sisters and Gran plan the wedding of the century. Or we can marry today and share a bed at the inn tonight like a respectable husband and wife. I’m not keen on waiting, but then, I never am when it comes to you. So what is your opinion in the matter?”

She couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “I think you just want to punish your grandmother for her sly tactics by depriving her of the wedding.”

He smiled. “Perhaps a little. And God knows my friends are never going to let me live this down. I’m not looking forward to hours of their torment at a wedding breakfast.”

He stopped in a little copse where they would be hidden from the street. “But if you want a big wedding, I can endure it.” His expression was solemn as he took her hands in his. “I can endure anything, as long as you marry me. And keep loving me for the rest of your life.”

Staring into his earnest face, she felt something flip over in her chest. She stretched up to brush his mouth with hers, and he pulled her in for a long, ardent kiss.

“Well?” he said huskily when he was done. “If I had any sense of decency, I would give you a chance to consult with a lawyer about settlements and such, especially since you’ll be coming into some money. But—”

“—you have no sense of decency, I know,” she teased. She tapped her finger against her chin. “Or was that morals you claimed not to have? I can’t remember.”

“Watch it, minx,” he warned with a lift of his brow. “If you intend to taunt me for every foolish statement I’ve made in my life, you’ll force me to play Rockton and lock you up in my dark, forbidding manor while I have my wicked way with you.”

“That sounds perfectly awful,” she said, gazing at the man she loved. “How soon can we start?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A month had passed since Oliver married Maria before a rector in Southampton. They’d taken their time about returning to Halstead Hall, sending Freddy ahead with Pinter to inform the family of their marriage while they enjoyed the seaside on a honeymoon trip.

Hyatt had gone back to America to negotiate with Maria’s trustees. A lengthy letter from Oliver detailing the man’s deceptions had preceded him. Convinced that the men her father had appointed to oversee her funds were honest, Maria assured Oliver that they would hold Hyatt’s feet to the fire regarding the sale.

Though Oliver hoped so, he was taking no chances. He and Maria were to leave for America in a few days so she could consult with the trustees and make sure her aunt was well provided for. Freddy and his new bride, Miss Kinsley, were traveling with them, since he wanted to bring her home to meet his mother. But it was only to be a visit; Freddy had decided to live in England and work for his father-in-law. Oliver rather pitied Mr. Kinsley for that.

Now there was only one thing left to do before Oliver and Maria could depart for Massachusetts. They’d been back at Halstead Hall a week now, and he’d put it off as long as he could.

“Are you ready?” he asked Maria as they stood outside the library.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered with an anxious smile.

He knew her anxiety was for him, and he shared it. For half a second, he was tempted to return the way they’d just come—climb upstairs to the master bedchamber and spend the rest of the day forgetting duty to the estate and his family while he made love to his wife. But he doubted Maria would let him. For an American, she had quite a keen sense of aristocratic duty herself. To his surprise, he found it highly arousing.

“They’re going to hate us both, you know,” he said.

“I doubt that,” she replied. “And if they do, it won’t be for long.”

He wasn’t so sure, but he opened the door and ushered her in.

His brothers and sisters were ranged about the table much as they had been on the day Gran gave her ultimatum, but today they were in a more jovial mood.

“So, Oliver, what do you think?” Jarret asked as Oliver held out a chair for Maria. “Now that you’re leg-shackled, will Gran relent?”

“Why else would she have called this meeting?” Minerva said. “She’s got what she wanted all along—Oliver married and running the estate.”

“Even if she doesn’t relent,” Gabe pointed out, “we don’t need her money, thanks to Maria’s fortune. Right, Oliver?” He flashed Maria a grin. “We’re most grateful to you for that, Maria.”

Time to lower the boom. “Actually, my wife and I have decided that part of her fortune should go to help her family—she has an aunt and four cousins, you know. The other part will go into a trust for our children.”

Gabe’s grin faltered.

“And I was the one who called this meeting,” Oliver added. “Not Gran.”

At that moment, his grandmother came in, tapping her cane along the floor. “Sorry I’m late, but I had an emergency at the brewery.”

“It’s no problem,” he said. “We were just getting started.”

As he held out a chair for her, the stunned expression on his siblings’ faces had him fighting a smile.

“Now, then,” he said, returning to the head of the table, “I think you should know that Gran’s original requirement is still in place. The four of you must marry or she will disinherit the lot of us. I’ve done my part. So I suggest that while Maria and I are in America, you four start looking for mates.”

It took a second for that to sink in.

Minerva exploded first. “That isn’t fair! Gran, I’m sure you’ll have your heir from Oliver and Maria in no time, given the hours they spend up there in the master bedchamber. Why in heaven’s name must you continue this farce?”

“I asked her to continue it,” Oliver said. When his siblings gaped at him, he added, “Gran is right—it’s time that we take our place in the world as more than hellions. We’ve been sleepwalking too long, locked into the past, unable to live fruitful lives. Now that Maria has awakened me, I want to wake you up, too. I want you to stop boxing at shadows and hiding in the dark from the scandal of our parents’ deaths. I want you to find what I’ve found—love.”

He gazed at Maria, who cast him an encouraging smile. They’d both agreed that this might be the only way to force his siblings awake.

“Speak for yourself,” Minerva answered. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re just using that nonsense as an excuse for joining up with Gran to ruin our lives.” She glanced resentfully at Maria. “Is this the thanks we get for pushing him into your arms?”

“Pushing me into her arms?” Oliver echoed.

“All that making you jealous and keeping you from her—” Gabe began.

“And lying to you about her inheritance,” Jarret added. “Though that didn’t work out quite as planned.”

“You wouldn’t even
be
together if not for us,” Celia said.

“I suspect my wife would beg to differ,” Oliver drawled. “But that’s neither here nor there. Rail at me all you want, but Gran’s deadline is still in place. You have ten months to marry.” He cast them a thin smile. “Given how difficult that may prove, however, I’ve hired someone to help you.”

He turned to the door. “Mr. Pinter? Would you step inside, please?”

The Bow Street runner walked in, looking uneasy at facing the entire cadre of scandalous Sharpes.

“Mr. Pinter has agreed to help you by researching the backgrounds of your potential spouses. I know it can be difficult, especially for you girls, to sort the legitimate suitors from the fortune hunters.” He knew that firsthand. “So Mr. Pinter will investigate anyone who sparks your interest. That should make the entire process move more quickly.”

“And cold-bloodedly,” Celia muttered under her breath.

Pinter arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Thank you, Mr. Pinter,” Oliver said. “If you’d be so good as to wait in my study, I need to say a few more things to my siblings.”

With a nod, Pinter left.

Now came the worst part. Turning to close the door, Oliver went to stand beside Maria. He needed her strength now. She took his hand and squeezed it.

“I’ve never told you the truth of what happened the day Mother killed Father. It’s time that I did. There have been too many secrets among us for too long.”

Shocked silence fell upon the room. He’d gone over the speech in his head twenty times, yet now that it was here, he could hardly say the words. Fortunately Maria was at his side, her forgiveness and understanding bolstering his courage.

He clung to that as he related the events of that horrible day. He’d considered not revealing that he’d slept with Lilith—indeed, Maria had tried to convince him that he need not endure that humiliation. But every time he tried to figure out how to tell the tale by glossing over that part, it came out wrong. He had to say it all.

As he got through it, he couldn’t look at them. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy to tell his siblings that he was responsible for the deaths of the parents they still mourned, but he’d never guessed it would be
so
hard.

Maria had. Trying to protect him, she’d asked him repeatedly if he was sure this was what he wanted to do. But they deserved to know. It was as simple as that.

When he finished, a deathly hush descended upon the room. Maria squeezed his hand painfully tight, and he still couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes.

Then Jarret spoke. “That cold bitch,” he said, his voice filled with venom. “I should have known Mrs. Rawdon was mixed up in it. She and Major Rawdon hustled off after the house party in a big hurry.”

Oliver’s stunned gaze rose to meet Jarret’s, which held no hint of condemnation toward him.

“She flirted with every man there, even me,” Jarret went on. “And I was only thirteen. It could just as easily have been my room she walked into that day.”

Beside Jarret, Celia was silently weeping, and Gabe was clearing his throat with a vengeance. Minerva regarded Oliver with a look of such compassion that tears stung his own eyes.

He couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t they understood the point? Hadn’t they been paying attention? “I thought you should know that I was the one to blame for—”

“You were not to blame for anything!” Minerva cried as she leapt to her feet. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. That’s all.”

“If anyone’s to blame,” Gran said from his other side, “it’s me.”

He turned to look at her. She, too, was crying, her papery cheeks damp from tears.

She lifted a remorseful gaze to him. “I should have listened to you when you said it was important I go after them. I have always regretted that. If I had only known . . .”

He laid his hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. I was too embarrassed to tell you what Mother and I fought about.”

“Can’t say as I blame you, old boy,” Gabe put in, his voice hoarse. “
I
would never have told Gran such a thing. I can’t even imagine having Mother walk in on me while . . . That’s every chap’s nightmare.”

They all chimed in to agree with Gabe.

“You know,” Celia said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, “Mrs. Rawdon must have told Mother something to make her go into your room at the right time.” When everyone looked at her, she blinked. “It just doesn’t seem feasible that Mother would have happened to go into Oliver’s bedchamber without knocking or anything.”

Oliver said, “Unfortunately, we’ll never know for sure. Lilith and the major left England long ago, so I wasn’t able to ask.”

The conversation turned to speculation about Mrs. Rawdon’s motives, and then to memories about their mother and how rigid she could be. Before he knew it, they were laughing at some tale Gabe told of Mother paddling him for running naked across the courtyard at five.

Oliver cast Maria a bewildered glance, and she pulled him into the empty chair beside her. “Let them laugh,” she said softly. “It makes it easier for them to face. It’s a lot to swallow at once—the knowledge that your mother killed your father on purpose. You have to give them time to absorb it, to figure out what it means to them. Right now, all they can do is laugh or keep crying, and they don’t want to hurt you more by crying.”

“But they should be blaming me. And they don’t.”

“Because they’re not stupid,” she said with a loving smile. “They place the blame where it should be placed, on Mrs. Rawdon and your mother. And on your father, for being a heartless rakehell.”

Gran laid her hand on his. “Your mother always was a sensitive soul—too sensitive, if you ask me. I would have gone after your father with a poker the first time he even looked at another woman.” She patted his hand. “You may not know this, but your grandfather was quite the rogue in his own day. Shaped right up after he married me, though.”

Oliver eyed her askance. “I don’t imagine you gave him much choice.”

“No, indeed.” She blotted her eyes with a handkerchief. “I still miss him, bless my soul. You remind me of him sometimes. He cut quite the dashing figure. And what a dancer! Lord, we used to dance all night.”

“I told you,” Maria said to Oliver. “It’s your mother’s line you favor. Not your father’s.”

He began to think she was right. With Maria in his life, he couldn’t imagine looking at another woman, much less bedding one. His duties at Halstead Hall kept him so busy he wondered how his father had ever managed to juggle a wife, an estate, and assorted tarts. The man must have been mad.

“Are we done now?” asked Minerva, jerking him from his reverie. “Or do you have other astonishing revelations to drop into our laps? Because if we’re done, I have some writing to do.”

He looked around to see that the others were awaiting his answer. He’d expected an entirely different outcome to this discussion, and now he was all at sea.

“Yes, we’re done,” Maria said helpfully. “Thank you all for being so understanding.”

“Well, then.” Minerva rose to her feet. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

And with that, the rest of them stood and trooped out of the room.

Minerva paused by his chair. “What Mother said to you was dreadful. I know she didn’t mean it. And I’m sorry you’ve suffered for it all these years.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But that
doesn’t
mean I forgive you for going over to Gran’s side, you traitor.”

He couldn’t help laughing. Minerva had always been a sore loser.

When his siblings were gone, Gran stood. “Thank you for taking my side in this.” She flashed Maria a smile. “And thank you for not giving up on him.” Then she, too, left.

Now that they had the room to themselves, Oliver turned to Maria. “I have to second Gran’s thanks for not giving up on me.”

“I did consider it a few times,” she teased. “But you can be such an engaging fellow that I never considered it for long.”

“And there was all that encouragement from my siblings,” he said. “All their little machinations to help our romance along.”

He had the satisfaction of watching his wife blush very prettily. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. I had no idea they were trying to ‘push you’ anywhere.”