Eloisa's Adventure (21 page)

“You
know nothing,” Renwick growled.

“So,
what did you do? How did you convince the British Army to lie to
George about being killed in battle?” He leaned back in his seat
and casually crossed his ankles.

Unsurprisingly Renwick remained mute on the subject. Simeon
studied the deep and jagged scar that ran down his cousin’s face
and considered the possibilities.

“Good
Lord,” he whispered, when one possibility stood out against all of
the others. “You are a thief.”

CHAPTER
TWELVE

“You are
a thief of identities,” he added when Renwick appeared to ignore
him.

When
Renwick continued to stare at his boots, and didn’t even appear to
have heard him, Simeon thought about his suspicions a bit more
carefully. He knew from the look on Renwick’s face that he was
guilty of something, but was probably trying to find a way to
weasel out of telling the truth. Simeon just didn’t know how he had
managed to escape the army but suspected he had changed his
identity somehow.

“I can’t
help you if you don’t tell me, Renwick,” he added after several
minutes of tense silence.

“You
can’t help me anyway,” Renwick snorted quietly. “Nobody can
now.”

Simeon
leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “How? How do you
know that I can’t help?”

Renwick
glared at him. Simeon stared hard at his cousin. There was
something cold and dangerous in his eyes that warned Simeon that he
was touching on the truth and unearthing something that Renwick
would be as nasty as possible to protect.

“You
poisoned George,” Simeon declared quietly. It wasn’t a
question.

“What of
it?”

“It is
murder,” Eloisa declared flatly.

“It’s
nothing to do with you,” Renwick countered.

Simeon
glared at him. “She is right though. You murdered your own father.
Let me think now. I can only assume you were aware that because you
officially died in the army you wouldn’t stand to inherit anything
from your father. However, if you got George out of the way, you
could plunder the house of its contents while it was empty. People
would just assume that thieves had helped themselves to the
contents once the death notices had been posted in the
broadsheets.”

Renwick
threw him a dirty look. “It would have worked as well if you hadn’t
turned up with your mistress.”

“I am
not his mistress,” Eloisa objected.

“Mistress; whore; what’s the difference?”

Eloisa’s
mouth fell open.

“The
difference is that Eloisa is here under my guardianship,” Simeon
countered.

He
carefully ignored Renwick’s disparaging snort, and balked at the
insulting sneer he hurled at Eloisa.

“I
wouldn’t push too hard if I were you because I could have you
arrested for murder,” Simeon challenged. He waved toward the neatly
stacked furniture behind them. “We could also add theft, as well as
breaking and entering. Not only that, but you also lied to the army
about your death somehow.”

“You
have all the cards,” Renwick growled. “You have always been the
family’s golden boy. Even growing up, my father always used to be
‘Simeon said this’, and ‘Simeon did that’. There was never anything
good said about me.”

“That’s
because you never did anything good,” Simeon retorted. “You were
always climbing trees, racing curricles, or trying to compromise
the ladies.”

An
unholy grin lit Renwick’s face, but all it succeeded in doing was
making him look even more macabre that he usually did. Eloisa
shuddered but sat still and silent while Simeon probed for the
truth.

“I think
I need to have the details of what you have been up to before I
decide what to do,” he said as he studied Renwick’s
scars.

“You
decide? Do you really think
that I am going to allow
you
to decide anything for me?”

“You are
bringing the Calversham family name into disrepute,” Simeon chided
quietly.

“I am
not a Calversham. Renwick Calversham died in battle,
remember?”

Simeon
shook his head. “How did you manage that one?”

Renwick
swallowed. “You have no idea what fighting in the war was
like.”

“I
fought myself,” Simeon challenged. “I know.”

Renwick
glared hatefully at his cousin. “You know nothing. Look at me,” he
whispered. “Look at me!” he bellowed when Simeon stared at the
floor.

Simeon
looked up and studied the man’s scars. Eloisa watched in
astonishment when he stood and tugged his shirt out of his
breeches. He yanked it over his head to reveal jagged scarring
around his midriff, just as severe and just as uneven as Renwick’s
face.

Eloisa
blinked back tears at the sight of the wounds on both men. It was
horrifying to think of what they had been forced to endure during
their time at war, but couldn’t find the words to say
anything.

“I have
been to war and got injured as well so don’t tell me that I have no
idea. There was a time when nobody thought I would survive either,”
Simeon declared darkly. “I didn’t swap identities like you did
though. Why did you do it Renwick? Just what the hell
happened?”

“They
were going to court-marshal me,” Renwick declared quietly. “I will
tell you because if you contact the army, they will tell you
anyway. I was caught trying to escape.”

“Desertion,” Simeon sighed. It drew the harshest of
punishments. He closed his eyes and suspected he knew what was
coming.

“We had
been fighting for months. One day, we went into battle and I barely
escaped with my life. We retreated when it grew too dark to see but
were told that we were going to go back and fight the next day.
Everyone knew that it was suicide. There were only a handful of us
left, out of three hundred men. It was a journey toward death that
I just wasn’t prepared to take, so I tried to leave. I got caught
by the sergeant. He was going to send me back to base to face a
court-marshal. If we hadn’t been about to go back into battle, I am
sure that I would have been. However, given that there were only a
few of us remaining I was made to stay with them and fight. The
sergeant told me that if I was still alive at the end of the day, I
would go back to the commanding officer and explain my actions. We
left to fight just before dawn -”

He
lapsed into silence and stared blankly down at his lap. From the
dullness of his voice, and the blankness on his face, it was clear
that he was battling with his memories of that awful day when his
life had been scarred forever.

“Did you
run away again?” Eloisa asked quietly when Renwick didn’t seem
inclined to speak again.

Renwick
looked at her with such soulless eyes that she felt the sting of
tears.

“No, I
didn’t. I fought. I was forced to but got struck down.” The proud
tilt of his head told her that was how he had received his scar. “I
played dead. I stayed on the battlefields while the soldiers moved
through us all and checked to see if we were dead. I think if this
wound hadn’t been so deep, they would have run me through like they
did some of the others. As it was, because I held my breath and lay
still, they stepped over me and ran the soldier next to me through
instead. Once the soldiers had gone, the locals moved across the
fields clearing bodies. They realised I was still alive and helped
me get to a place of safety. Unfortunately, I ended up back at
camp. My sergeant survived too. I saw him but he didn’t recognise
me because my head was wrapped in bandages. I eventually got
stitched back up -” he smiled snidely at them, “- but it was a
rudimentary job at best. I got transferred to a field hospital and
was lying in a bed next to a soldier who had been shot in the face.
His entire head was smashed to bits, and he was barely hanging onto
life. He died just after midnight on the second night I was
there.”

Eloisa
closed her eyes as a wave of horror swept through her. She jumped
when she felt Simeon’s hand settle over hers but she was grateful
that he had reached out to her. Her fingers clenched around the
reassuring comfort of his while they waited for Renwick to finish
recounting his story.

“I knew
that my Sergeant would have made notes that I was still to be
court-marshalled. I would have proved my father right in his
assessment of me if I was shot for desertion.” Renwick spoke in a
voice that was so quiet, so subdued, that both Eloisa and Simeon
strained to hear him.

Simeon
cursed. “You swapped identities with the soldier in the bed next to
you.”

“I stole
some bandages. They were make-shift ones because the hospital was
short of supplies, so it was easy to do. In the end, I wrapped my
head up and took his place, and put his body on my bed.” He looked
up at them blankly. “Renwick Calversham died that day.”

“Your
new identity was born,” Simeon growled. “What are you called now
then? I mean, if we call you Renwick, people will ask
questions.”

“Martin
Huffleton,” Renwick said quietly. “I was discharged on medical
grounds about a month after I got back to England.”

“So you
have lived in England all that time, and your father never knew,”
Simeon whispered. “He received a letter from the army informing him
of your death and notified everyone that you had been killed in
battle.”

“I knew
that because I had effectively died, my father would make
alternative provisions in his will for the castle to go to you.” He
smiled snidely at Simeon. “I want my inheritance back. If I can’t
have it legally I will damned well take it illegally.”

“You
intended to steal anything you could carry,” Simeon growled. “You
are dead though and are not entitled to it. You can hardly expect
me to just hand it over to you now. You have lived your entire life
surrounded in lies and deceit. Your very presence here today is
based upon an extraordinary sequence of lies you have woven around
yourself. What about this Martin Huffleton’s family? They don’t
even know that he has died. He could have a wife and children
around somewhere, waiting for him to come home. How could you do
that to them, just to save your own worthless skin? How do you know
that you would have been shot? We were at war. They needed every
soldier they could get. How do you know that your Sergeant didn’t
die in another battle later on and the court-marshal was forgotten
about?”

Now that
his initial shock had worn off, Simeon’s temper burned. The very
thought of Renwick’s callous disregard for the soldier who had
already suffered enough disturbed him. How could anyone do that to
another human being? It was something that Simeon just couldn’t
bring himself to understand.

“I want
what’s rightfully mine, Simeon. George Calversham was my father,
not yours. By rights, this place, and everything in it, should be
mine.”

“But you
are dead!” Simeon all but bellowed. “You lied to save yourself
being shot for desertion. You don’t exist anymore,
Renwick!”

“It’s my
house,” Renwick shouted back.

Simeon
scowled at his cousin, his eyes full of the fury he struggled to
contain. “You don’t exist anymore, Renwick; in the British Army, or
the Calversham family. You were buried several years ago. As far as
I am concerned, you can bloody well forget about getting your hands
on anything to do with the Calversham family. I shall, however,
have no hesitation in turning you over to the army.” He leaned
forward in his seat and stared at his cousin. “I have the portraits
of your father. The family resemblance is quite striking even with
your injury.” He flicked a glance at Eloisa. “So striking in fact
that even with your beard Eloisa knew that you were George’s son,
and she has never seen you before in her life. If it is evident to
her, it will be obvious to others too. You won’t get away with
this, Renwick.”

“You can
go to hell,” Renwick snarled. “Do you really think that I will let
you walk away with everything that should rightly be mine? Do you
really think that I am going to let the golden boy pocket my
money?”

“Is that
what you had planned? You intended to help yourself to the house
contents while my back was turned, pawn what you didn’t want, make
yourself a tidy profit.” It wasn’t a question.

“You
don’t want this castle,” Eloisa countered. “You just want the money
the contents can give you.”

“Shut
up. This is family business,” Renwick countered.

“She is
right though, isn’t she Renwick? After all, you have deceived the
army, and stand to be shot by firing squad if your true identity is
discovered. Anyone in the area will know who you are; they watched
you grow up after all.” Simeon shook his head in disbelief. “You
don’t want this castle at all. You never have. It has just been a
source of income for you. Somewhere you come to with your greedy
little hand out so you can continue your dissolute lifestyle. Your
friend calling by here did so to signal to you that he had arrived
in the area and was ready to help you take the goods away from
here. That’s why he offered me that ridiculous sum for this place.”
He wished now that he had kicked the visitor on the shins
harder.