Her Notorious Viscount (14 page)

Jane stiffened visibly, and the pleasure on her face that had lingered after his compliment vanished in an instant.

“What more do you want to know?” she asked, her voice brittle. “He is a usurper and a liar.”

He tilted his head. “There must be more to it than that. It might help me find your brother.”

Realization dawned on her face. “Do you
really
believe Patrick might have been involved in Marcus’s disappearance?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t
believe
anything yet, one way or another. But I am curious.”

She sighed, as if the subject was a painful one, and when she began to speak, her voice was low and even, as if the words were difficult.

“There isn’t much to tell. Patrick is the son of my father’s favorite brother and his Irish wife. His mother was…” She hesitated. “She was not a kind woman. Beautiful, but not kind. She ran away from the family when Patrick was still a boy. His father died a few years later. He spent the rest of his growing up shuttling between school and the homes of various relatives. He played with Marcus and me as a boy, and we were actually close.”

“How close was he to your father?” Nicholas asked, pleased that his desire was finally back in his control. At least he would be able to stand without shocking Jane yet again.

She pondered the question. “Closer as we grew older. And once Marcus vanished, Patrick did come to the house more often.”

Nicholas steepled his fingers. The hated cousin could have been simply comforting a favorite uncle, or he might have been sowing the seeds of something more sinister.

“And your brother. Were he and Patrick friendly?”

She nodded. “They were of an age. I recall them getting into some trouble together as boys. At some point, though, they had a break of their friendship. The last year before my brother disappeared, he and Patrick did not speak.”

Nicholas thought about all the new information for a long moment. “When will your employer expect you back today?”

Jane blinked. “Lady Ridgefield will likely be home in the late afternoon. A few hours more, at least. Why?”

“I think you should pay a visit to your cousin.”

She drew back, and he could tell the idea was repellent to her. “
Why?
”

“Because while you talk to him and keep him busy, I want to sneak into the room where he keeps the original letters from your father.”

Jane’s eyes went wide. “You cannot be serious. You want to break into my cousin’s home?”

He shook his head with a grin. “You will let me in secretly, there will be no breaking involved.”

“But why?” she asked, ignoring his attempt at humor.

He grew serious. “I want to read those letters myself and see if I can uncover any nuance that may have been missed.”

“But it is daylight. Do you not fear being caught?”

With a smile, Nicholas got to his feet. “Oh, sweetling, you haven’t seen me sneak yet.”

Now she stood, hands trembling at her sides as she readied herself for the second part of Nicholas’s shocking plan. When she felt some semblance of calm, she went into action. Swiftly she withdrew all her father’s documents from the cabinet where they were stored and laid them on the desk so Nicholas wouldn’t have to search for them.

Quietly she double-checked that the door to the hallway was securely shut before she slipped to the French doors that led to the garden and opened them, allowing Nicholas entry to the room.

He slid inside on silent feet and smiled at her. “Very good. And no one was suspicious of your motives?”

She shook her head. “I have come here many times before to examine my father’s things. The servants are accustomed to me arriving uninvited.”

“Very good.”

“Would you like me to stay here with you?” she asked, dreading the moment when she would be forced to contend with Patrick.

He smiled at her, but she could see it was an attempt at reassurance. Was her worry so clear? To Nicholas, she supposed it was. He had an uncanny ability to read her emotions.

“No, it would be best if you go to him.”

“But why?” she asked, clenching her fists at her sides.

He arched a brow at her reluctance. “Because, my dear, he might come in here to speak to you.”

“Then can I not leave the house?” she all but pleaded. Now that she felt the strength of Nicholas’s suspicions, it would be hard for her to look Patrick in the eye without revealing her hatred of him even more. She was forever blurting out things she shouldn’t when he riled her.

“Not if we want to ensure he will not catch me.”

Reaching forward, Nicholas caught her shoulders and drew her closer. Jane shivered as his arms came around her and he held her to his chest. She could feel the even rhythm of his heart thumping against hers, and it made her nervousness fade.

“I have no choice but to assume your cousin comes to check these papers to make certain you haven’t taken anything each time you depart. If he did so while I remained, it could be disastrous.”

Jane looked up at him as the full ramifications of such a thing sank in. If her cousin truly was a villain of the kind Nicholas implied, Patrick could attempt to harm him. And even if he wasn’t, if Nicholas was caught stealing in another man’s house…he would be utterly ruined, with no remaining chance of repairing his reputation.

She drew back, feeling cold as his arms dropped away from her. But she straightened her shoulders nonetheless and tried to match his strength.

“Yes, I see. You are right. I will go to Patrick and keep him occupied. How long do you need?”

Nicholas glanced at the pile of papers on the desk. “At least thirty minutes. Can you do that?”

Jane swallowed hard. “Do you
really
think he checks?”

“For hating the man so much, you are certainly reluctant to make him a villain,” he said with a tilt of his head.

Jane dipped her chin. It was one thing to think the man had manipulated the system in order to obtain the title. It was another to think he might be as evil and twisted as Nicholas’s theory implied.

“I suppose it is because I know that if there was some kind of outside assistance in my brother’s disappearance then Marcus must be…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence and blinked hard to control the sudden tears that stung her eyes. Nicholas reached forward, and his big hand cupped her cheek. The warmth and comfort she had experienced when he embraced her returned instantly.

“I am probably wrong,” he said softly, but Jane could tell he remained apprehensive. “But I want to be sure. Now go and speak to your cousin. Half an hour and I shall meet you back in the carriage. My driver has instructions on where to pick me up.”

She nodded and began to turn away, but then moved back. She caught one of his hands, rough and hard from years of fighting. She held to it tightly as she stared up at him.

“Please be careful.”

His face softened, and the bright blue eyes that normally sparkled with mischief were suddenly serious. “I will be, Jane. Don’t worry about me.”

She nodded slowly, then scurried into the hallway to find her cousin.

Jane was wound as tightly as a ball of twine as she watched the butler knock at her father’s office door. Inside, Patrick’s voice called out the order to enter.

She clenched her fists as she stepped into the room around the servant. Her cousin was situated behind her father’s large oak desk, going over a line of figures in a ledger in front of him. He had a pair of spectacles balanced on his nose. She was struck, once again, by how much he looked like family. He had the Fenton air, the Fenton look.

And she despised him all the more for it.

“Jane,” he said, waving off the servant as he got to his feet. “Gregory said you were here looking at your father’s paperwork another time. I hope you found everything in order.”

She folded her arms, but resisted her urge to lash out. Nicholas needed time, and if she caused a row she might not create enough of it before her cousin asked her to leave in that infuriatingly quiet manner of his.

“Yes. Thank you for allowing me to look at the papers at my convenience,” she managed through clenched teeth.

He drew back with an expression of surprise. Then he nodded. “Of course, Jane. I hope you know you are welcome here at any time. Someday I even dare to hope we will be friends again, as we were when we were children.”

Her jaw set, and she remained silent. For the first time in a long time, she truly observed her cousin, beyond the family resemblance that troubled her so greatly. Nothing about his appearance said that he could be so twisted as to arrange her brother’s disappearance. But did that mean it wasn’t so?

“Jane, is something wrong?” he asked, stepping forward. “You seem very
odd
today. Is there anything I can help you with?”

She frowned. “You, help me? I think not.”

His mouth thinned and his eyes shut briefly, as if having this conversation with her was a trial. “Great God, Jane, are we going to do this again? It is childish and foolish.”

“Perhaps,” she said, moving a step away from him, her anger notching up. “Or perhaps it is very wise of me to keep away from you. After all, if you would have my brother declared dead so easily, perhaps you would do something equally vile to me.”

“What have I done that is vile to you?” he asked, and his voice actually elevated a fraction before he controlled it. “Offered you assistance? Offered you a respectable marriage? Offered you free access to
my
home to continue a fruitless search for something that doesn’t exist?”

Jane bit back a gasp of pain and fury, and promptly abandoned her vows to remain calm. “If it doesn’t exist, then why not give me my father’s property?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off by lifting her hand.

“No, don’t. You will only feed me more lies. It doesn’t matter anymore, Patrick. You see, you did not think that I would ever get help, but I have.”

She shut her eyes the moment the words were out of her mouth. Damn her temper! Once again it had made her say something she should have kept secret.

Now he stared at her, eyes wide. “Help? Who are you mixed up with, Jane?”

She shook her head. “No, you will get nothing more from me.”

“Please,” he said, and his eyes were almost wild with emotion. “Do not do something foolish. There are men who would prey on you, pretend to help you when they were really stalking your virtue…or even worse. They are dangerous men, and you should not put yourself in their path.”

Jane snorted her derision. “Do not pretend concern, I do not believe it. Especially now.”

“What do you mean?” Patrick said as he moved forward.

This was the first time in any of their encounters that she had managed to break past his calm, restrained demeanor. Now his raw emotion, which she couldn’t fully decipher as anger or fear or something else entirely, frightened her.

She stepped away, but he closed the distance, and suddenly she found herself against the wall with little room to maneuver.

“What do you mean ‘especially now,’ Jane?” he repeated.

She swallowed hard. Nicholas was in the house. If she screamed loud enough, he would come. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. This was her only opportunity to confront her cousin. And she had to know, to see his face when she questioned him. That would tell her more than any evidence Nicholas uncovered.

“Did you have anything to do with Marcus’s disappearance, Patrick?” she asked, her voice low but in no way masking her disgust. “Is that why you’re so positive he is gone, because you made certain of it yourself?”

Her cousin’s face crumpled, the calm wall he kept up falling as if it had been blown apart with explosive power. He grabbed her upper arms in a grip as powerful as a vise and gave her one shake.

“How dare you?” he growled. “How the hell dare you speak of such a despicable, disgusting thing? What do you know, little girl, of anything I have done in regard to Marcus?”

Jane’s heart pounded so hard she feared it would burst from her chest, and her blood roared like a waterfall in her ears. She struggled, but Patrick’s grip did not lessen, nor could she escape it. His face was close to hers, angry and wild with emotion. She realized, in that moment, that even if she did scream, Nicholas might not make it in time to save her if her cousin did mean her a harm.

“Patrick, release me,” she said, low and firm. “You are hurting me.”

Instantly he loosened his grip and stepped back, hands up in surrender. In his eyes, she saw a flicker of horror, as if even he could not believe he had lost control in such a manner.

“I apologize, Jane,” he said quietly. “I allowed my frustration with this situation to overwhelm me. I never should have done such a—”

Jane sidestepped away from him, freeing herself from being trapped between her cousin and the wall. She backed up, keeping her eyes on him as she willed her pulse and shaking hands to steady so he wouldn’t see how terrifying his sudden attack had been.

What time was it? She glanced at the clock on the mantel beside him. Exactly one half hour had passed, which meant she was free to escape him entirely.

“I must go,” she said, hating how her voice shook.

“Jane—” he began, but didn’t stop her.

She raced from the room and down the hall. Ignoring the servants who offered to assist her, she rushed outside into the cool spring afternoon. A light rain had begun to fall, and she reveled in the damp splash against her skin. After what had just transpired, she had a powerful urge to be washed clean.

Down the street, Nicholas’s carriage awaited her, safe. She stopped running so as not to draw attention to herself and walked as briskly as she could. A servant opened the door, and she threw herself inside. When the door closed behind her, she covered her face with her hands and allowed one sob to escape her lips.

Patrick had always handled her with almost frustrating calm. Never had he been so angry, never had he dared to put a hand on her, not since they were squabbling children! But today she had seen a wildness to his expression. A frightening anger that made her believe, for the first time, that Nicholas might be right. Her cousin could very well be hiding a secret. Perhaps even a deadly one.

But now she had to calm herself. She didn’t want Nicholas to see how shaken she was. Although the idea of his comfort was pure temptation.

When Nicholas slipped from the dark shadows in the alley behind Patrick Fenton’s home and stepped into the carriage that had just pulled up to the curb, he felt a high. There was nothing better than the freedom of being unknown and uninvited in someone’s home. A thief’s life had actually appealed to him once, before he found his true calling as a pugilist.

Today had been the first time since his return to Society that he hadn’t felt utterly confined.

He settled back into the seat across from Jane and looked at her with a smile. One that almost instantly fell when he saw her expression. She was sickly pale, and although she shoved her hands beneath her knees, there was no denying how they shook. He had never seen her like this, even when she first came to ask him for his help.

Instantly he moved to her side of the carriage. “What is it?” he asked, absently pushing a shiny lock of damp hair away from her face. When it was wet, the red highlights were even clearer. “Did something happen? Are you injured?”

She shook her head, but her gaze darted from his. “Nothing. I was simply worried about you. How did your search go? Did you discover any new information?”

Nicholas frowned. “You are lying to me.”

Jane jerked her face up toward his with a gasp. “No!”

“You are.” He caught her shoulders and felt her flinch so he gentled the touch, lightly stroking his fingers along her arms. “I don’t like to being lied to, Jane. Tell me what happened.”