Her Wicked Ways (38 page)

Fox smiled to allay her fear. “Are you ready?”

Her gaze softened and she reached up to touch his jaw. “Please be careful.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, but it ended too soon. Later there would be time. “Now, go.” He gestured for both of them to leave.

Freddie turned back. “Take the bay.” He pointed to a horse in a stall near the door. “Stone’s as fast as any of his lordship’s mounts.”

“Thank you, Freddie. For everything. And when this is over, I’ll expect you to come work for me.”

The boy grinned. “Happy to, sir.”

Freddie and Miranda left. She turned and waved, reminding him of the first time they parted—after their kiss on the highway. Fox ducked into the stall and quickly readied Stone, not bothering with a saddle.

He rode out into the coming dawn but slowed the animal upon seeing three figures outside the manor house, instead of two. Alarm pricked his neck. He squinted in the near-darkness, trying to determine the third person’s identity. Tall, broad-shouldered. Not Norris. Taking Stone closer, he swore as recognition hit him like a fist to the gut. Saxton. Why the hell wasn’t he at Stratham Hall?

Fox wanted to stop and face Saxton with Miranda, but he had to go. If he didn’t leave now, he might not have another chance. Kicking Stone into a gallop, he forced himself not to look back.

MURKY gray clouds swirled against the deep purple of the predawn sky as Miranda and Freddie made their way from the barn. She knew the color well, since she often arrived home at precisely this hour when she resided in London. That seemed a lifetime ago.

During their progression to the house, she kept looking back to watch for Fox’s departure. When Freddie gasped, she jerked her head forward and nearly stumbled into Jasper.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you.” Jasper’s flat tone and tense features reflected his disappointment. “I instructed the maid to check in on you at intervals.”

If she wasn’t panicked about Fox’s plan failing, she would’ve been outraged by her brother’s actions. Instead, she only wanted to delay him so that Fox could get away.

She tugged at his arm. “Come inside, Jasper. I’ve something to tell you.”

His gaze judged her from her tousled hair to her inappropriate attire. “From the look of you, I can well imagine what you’re going to say. At least no one else has seen you. Yes, I agree we need to get inside.”

A horse whinnied and hooves pounded over the earth. All three of them pivoted toward the commotion. Miranda cringed and felt Jasper’s muscles tighten beneath the sleeve of his coat.

Her brother turned blazing green eyes on her. “You let Foxcroft go?”

“He escaped, my lord.” Freddie’s voice trembled, making it seem more like a question.

Miranda squeezed her brother’s forearm. “Jasper, Fox didn’t steal anything, and he’s not the highwayman.”

Jasper’s lip curled. “Actually, Norris found a great deal of money in Fox’s cloak, and the same amount went missing from his office. I’m afraid your lover lied to you.”

Miranda stumbled backward at the derision in Jasper’s expression and tone. He’d assumed the roles of judge and jury, and would no doubt like to be executioner. Anxiety curled in her stomach. Had she really expected to spend the night with Fox without anyone finding out? The truth brought a wash of shame to her face:
yes
.

Jasper targeted Miranda with a merciless stare. “Now, tell me where Foxcroft went.”

She shivered and not because of the predawn chill. She had to make Jasper understand that Fox wasn’t a criminal. At least not today. “He didn’t steal anything from Norris. Norris planted that money in his cloak. And what’s more, Norris never paid for the tapestries he bought at the auction. Fox came here tonight to take the money Norris owes the orphanage!”

“He told you this?” At her nod, he continued, “And you believe him? Of course, you believe your lover. Where did he go?”

She had to give Fox time to convince Stratham to help him. “I don’t know.”

“Horseshit!” Jasper grabbed her arm. “This is not some mindless dalliance, Miranda! The man is a criminal. You ruin all of us with this! Where is Foxcroft?”

Miranda recoiled. Could she ruin their entire family? Her mind churned, trying to sort out how she could preserve her family’s reputation and still help Fox.

“Christ.” Jasper thrust her away and she just managed to keep her balance. He rounded on Freddie then. “I assume you helped Foxcroft escape, though I’ve no idea why. If you want to avoid prosecution for aiding a criminal, you’ll tell me right now where he’s gone.”

Freddie cast an apologetic glance at Miranda, but she knew he had no alternative. “Stratham Hall.”

Jasper pulled his head back, a look of confusion quirking his mouth and narrowing his eyes. “Why would he go there? He’s not trying to escape?”

“No.” Miranda put her hands on her hips. “I told you he’s innocent. He’s gone to prove it.”

Jasper spun about and walked toward the house. “I’m going to rouse Norris, and then we’re off to Stratham Hall.”

Miranda hurried after him. Fox’s plan had better work. She started to say, “I’m going with you,” but realized Jasper would never allow it. She’d follow at a reasonable distance, for she’d no intention of staying behind.

Chapter Nineteen

DAWN had fully broken over the east when Fox drew Stone to a halt in the drive at Stratham Hall. He hoped Miranda hadn’t gotten into too much trouble and wished he’d been able to help her. For now, escaping the hangman’s noose had to be his first priority.

He ran up the steps and pounded on the front door. Almost immediately a footman greeted him. “Mr. Stratham is not accepting visitors at this hour.”

Fox pushed past him into the foyer. “I’m not a visitor. Go wake your employer and tell him to meet Foxcroft in his office.” Fox already stalked toward the corner of the house. Once Stratham learned he’d arrived and had already gone to his office, Fox wagered he’d be down in a hurry.

The footman followed Fox for a moment. “I’m afraid I can’t allow this.”

Fox swung and faced the shorter, slighter retainer. “I don’t think you understand. I’m not asking for your permission. Now fetch Stratham.” Fox spun back around and quickened his pace. Anxiety curled up his spine as he wondered if the footman would do as he bade or instead raise the alarm. Part way through the Gold Room, he heard the pursuit. He looked over his shoulder. Two liveried men rushed after him. Alarm then.

Fox broke into a dead run for the office. Heaving, he pushed inside and slammed the door behind him before the footmen caught up. He turned the lock and hoped they wouldn’t try to break in.

Milky gray light spilled across the large mahogany desk from the windows. Fox opened drawers, aware of the footmen outside the door speaking in low tones. Then the hammering started.

“Sir, you need to come out!”

Fox ignored them as he rifled through the contents of first one drawer and then another. Frustration mounted as he tossed estate papers and other worthless—at least to him—documents to the floor.

Finally in the next to last drawer, he found a locked wooden box. He’d seen a key in the first drawer he’d searched. Was Stratham simple enough to keep the means to open the box so close? Fox located the key on the desktop where he’d cast it haphazardly and inserted it into the lock. Nothing. Apparently Stratham lacked that amount of stupidity, at least.

The pounding stopped, replaced with more talking he couldn’t discern. Then a knock. “Fox? Open the door.” Stratham.

Fox looked wildly through the piles of paper on the floor. No key. More knocking. “Fox! I’m going to send for the mayor if you don’t open the door!”

In desperation, Fox threw the box against the expensive marble fireplace. The wood splintered and fell to the floor in a tangled mess.

“What was that?” Stratham pounded on the door.

Fox dropped to his knees and sorted through the ruined box. Quickly, he scanned the papers.
Yes
.

He stood and opened the door. Stratham and three footmen rushed inside.

Fox held up the papers. “There’s no need to call the mayor unless it’s for you.”

Stratham’s eyes widened. He turned to his retainers. “Go.” The footmen left and Stratham closed the door.

On the way from Cosgrove, Fox had rehearsed what he might say to Stratham, but the words stuck to his tongue like mud to the bottom of his work boots. How it grated to have to align himself with this man. But what choice did he have if he wanted to save his neck? “I need you to help me.” There, he’d said it.

Stratham cocked his head. “How can I possibly do that?” His gaze barely moved from the papers in Fox’s hand.

“Norris is framing a story in which I stole several thousand pounds from his office last night. You know that story is false.”

Stratham pulled his attention from the sheaf of papers. “He says you stole the tribute money from me on the road? Is that true?”

Fox took a perverse pleasure in revealing the truth. “Yes.”

Stratham exhaled. “Then Norris will do whatever he must to ensure you’re punished for the crime.”

Fox’s heart beat faster as his apprehension increased. “Except you know he can’t report that crime, so he’s fabricated another.”

Stratham’s eyes narrowed and he adopted his annoying, most supercilious tone. “Which doesn’t change the fact you’re a criminal.”

Fury exploded in Fox’s brain. He lunged forward, waving the papers at Stratham as if they were a weapon. “Stealing from criminals! For the sake of my charges!” His chest heaved with his anger. “I’m not proud of what I had to do, but I would do it again.”

Emotions played across Stratham’s face. Fox couldn’t see the man’s thoughts, but he seemed to be wavering. Fox pressed his advantage. “It’s only a matter of time before Norris has to use you to cover his own crimes. He told me he believed you’d stolen the extortion money. That can’t have been pleasant for you. What did he do, make you come up with the money yourself?”

Stratham’s eyes darkened with doubt. “Yes, how’d you know?”

“Because he’s a greedy, selfish son of a bitch. All he cares about is stuffing his house with overpriced relics while everyone else in the district suffers from the worst harvest in over a decade.” Fox tried to breathe out his anger.

Stratham’s shoulders stiffened. “My harvest was poor, too. I’m not completely unaware of your struggles.”

The man knew nothing. So the harvest would mean he went without a new waistcoat or pair of gloves. For Fox and the people who depended upon him, it meant so much more. “Then help me! If I go to prison, or worse, there will be no one to help the orphans or my tenants. You know this is wrong.”

Stratham’s gaze flicked to the papers. “Are you going to use that to coerce me?”

The itemization in Fox’s hand included names and dates, but he hadn’t seen any mention of Norris. “I could, but I need Norris to be the guilty party and only your testimony will ensure that happens. Only you can link him to this list of tributes and the fact you’ve been collecting them for him.”

Stratham’s chest seemed to compress. “How’d you know, anyway? Did one of them tell you?”

Fox clenched his teeth together. He didn’t have time for the familiar anger of their shared past. “Pennymore. After Jane died, her father admitted Norris bargained her hand in marriage to you in exchange for his future support. Norris promised that he and the MPs—including you—would continue to represent Pennymore’s interests in Parliament, and, more importantly, that he would receive preferential treatment in the district.”

Stratham sank into a plush ivory velvet chair. “She didn’t love me?”

Fox shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Perhaps by happy coincidence she did.” Surprisingly, Fox no longer cared.

Stratham shook his head. “I don’t think so. I believed she possessed a reserved nature, but perhaps she masked something instead. When she agreed to marry me after such a short courtship, I assumed her sentiments matched my own.” Stratham had loved her then. He’d been a pawn in Norris’s machinations, just as Fox was now. Stratham looked up at him. “Why would Norris want her to marry me though? I don’t understand.”