Notorious Deception (27 page)

Diana awoke shortly after dawn, feeling heavy headed and uneasy. She sat up quickly, alone in the large four-poster bed. “Derek,” she called out softly in the near darkness.

He appeared instantly at her side, and she noted with alarm he was already dressed. “You are leaving so early?”

“I am going to Tristan's house. He and Morgan must be told about the meeting with Marlow. I am also going to arrange for Ramsey to come to the house to stay with you while I am gone.” Derek leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Try to go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll see you later.”

“Don't forget you promised to tell me your plans, Derek,” she said as he slipped quietly out the door.

Feeling restless and abandoned, Diana sank back against the pillows. She tried to take Derek's advice, but it was impossible to return to sleep. Giving up on that idea, she rose from the bed and leisurely dressed. She was waiting anxiously in the drawing room when Derek returned later with Morgan and Tristan by his side.

The men declined her polite offering of breakfast and immediately began an intense and occasionally heated discussion about how best to trap Marlow. When the final plan was agreed to, Diana was not sure she should have insisted on knowing all the details. It sounded far too dangerous.

“Is it really necessary for you to go yourselves?” she asked warily.

“We won't be alone,” Derek said soothingly. “Over the past few years Tristan has found employment on his estate for several soldiers who served under our command during the war. They have agreed to help. We will be taking ten seasoned war veterans with us, all of whom are crack shots.”

“You will take every precaution,” she said, not knowing what else to say. She was feeling apprehensive and exceedingly powerless. “All of you.”

“I can assure you, Diana,” Morgan said, “none of us has any desire to get hurt.”

Diana knew the duke spoke the truth, yet in spite of the apparent danger, she could see the men were excited about finally confronting their adversary. They seemed to actually be looking forward to the adventure.

“Ramsey is down in the kitchen eating his breakfast. He has been assigned the task of guarding you while I am gone, Diana,” Derek said. “You will do precisely as he says. And stay inside the house until I return.”

Diana nodded her head and watched with growing alarm as Derek loaded two pistols. He placed one in the breast pocket of his jacket and the other inside the waistband of his leather breeches. Diana glanced speculatively at Morgan and Tristan, wondering if they were equally well armed. She hoped so.

“Be on guard,” she whispered softly to Derek. He nodded solemnly and gave her a hard, fast kiss of farewell.

Once alone, Diana nervously paced the drawing room floor for over an hour. Feeling tired, she sank down on the settee. Automatically her eyes scanned the room and came to rest on the large oil painting hanging over the fireplace.

She frowned in true annoyance as she stared at the likeness of Giles sitting triumphantly upon his horse, his face a mixture of pride and excitement while he displayed the bloody kill of the hunt. Diana turned her head away in disgust—of both the man and his obvious enjoyment of the blood sport. Killing a poor defenseless animal and then insisting the moment be forever captured on canvas—it was disgusting. The poor little fox looked so small and fragile. Little fox!

Diana whipped her head around and stared again at the picture. Yes, it was definitely a fox. Giles was holding a fox. Excited, she jumped up from the sofa and ran across the room.

Giles had uttered, “Look to the foxes,” as he lay dying. Was it to this painting he was referring?

Diana intently examined the painting. Perhaps the clue was in the picture. Maybe she could recognize something in the background—a person, a landmark, anything that might reveal where the book was hidden.

Gingerly she traced her fingertips over the trees and falling leaves of the autumn countryside. Nothing looked familiar. In fact, just the opposite was true. The backdrop was merely a forest scene; there were no distinguishing features about it. It could have been any forest in England.

Disappointed, but not yet discouraged, she removed the painting from the wall. Even though both she and Derek had carefully searched this room, she almost expected to see a tiny wall safe hidden behind the painting. There was none.

Diana turned the painting over, carefully examining the back. There was nothing unusual about the paper backing protecting the picture. She burrowed her finger through an edge of the paper, gently tearing the lining away. She had ripped more than half of it off when a small black leather book dropped out and a sheet of paper floated slowly after it.

Diana almost screamed aloud in her exhilaration. She had found it! She had actually found Marlow's book! Eagerly she snatched up the book and quickly scanned the pages. As Marlow had told her there were lists of names, with various notations, numbers, and dates written by each entry. However, Marlow had been right. She could not make any sense of the entries.

She started running from the room, but stopped suddenly when she unintentionally stepped on the piece of paper. In all the excitement, she had completely forgotten about it. She picked it up, glancing down at it with uninterest. But the words Chippenham and Rutledge immediately grabbed her attention. Squinting hard, she read the page.

Diana gasped out loud in disbelief. She was holding the missing church register page validating her marriage to Giles. Derek had been correct all along. Giles must have stolen the page. Marlow had been bluffing when he'd said he'd it and threatened to send it to the newspapers as proof of her marriage.

Her temper flared at Marlow's deceit. What an odious man! She did not waste time indulging her feelings of outrage. She knew she must make arrangements for the book to be brought to Derek immediately. Tucking the book and the paper carefully in the deep pocket of her gown, she raced from the room to find Mr. Ramsey.

Diana got no farther than the front foyer when she was suddenly grabbed roughly from behind and pushed forward, her face nearly flattened against the wall. There was no one about—no servants, no security men. Just Diana and her unknown assailant. She felt panic setting in and her blood ran cold as an all-too-familiar voice hissed menacingly in her ear.

“Ah, so there you are, Lady Diana. I am afraid, if you don't take your leave soon, you shall be late for our meeting this morning.”

Diana shrank deeper into the corner of the coach trying to keep her seat while the vehicle tipped and swayed viciously. They were traveling at a rapid speed, convincing her they must have reached the outskirts of London. She also could no longer hear the bustling sounds of the crowded town streets.

Agitated, she wrinkled her nose at the bothersome scarf blindfolding her. The silken material had fallen down over her nostrils and it itched. She very much wanted to reach up and adjust the cloth, but she did not. Although she was fairly certain she was alone in the coach, Marlow had given strict orders not to touch the blindfold, and she did not dare disobey.

It was distressingly easy for Marlow to remove her, seemingly unnoticed, from the house. After surprising her in the foyer, he had boldly pushed her out the front door, down the steps, and into a waiting coach. She'd landed in a heap on the bottom of the carriage. Taking advantage of her momentary disorientation, Marlow had quickly tied a silk scarf around her eyes before she had so much as caught a glimpse of him. Once her eyes were securely covered, he'd slammed the carriage door shut and the vehicle had jolted forward.

Marlow's continuing precautions to conceal his identity led Diana to two conclusions: he was someone known to her and he did not intend to hurt her immediately since he continued to hide his identity. By the time the carriage stopped, nearly an hour after it had started, she had almost convinced herself Marlow truly meant her no great harm.

Her stomach turned over in nervous anticipation, however, when she heard the driver scramble down from the top of the box. Above all else, she told herself, she had to stay calm. Strong fingers gripped her arms tightly as they pulled her out of the coach. She stumbled, but was caught before she hit the ground.

Once standing, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She was immediately nudged from behind and told to walk. The voice commanding her was not Marlow's, but that of another man, perhaps the driver. For a second, she panicked, thinking Marlow had not accompanied them out of town. “Mr. Marlow?” she asked softly.

“Have no fear, Countess, I have not abandoned you.” Cool, strong fingers closed around her wrist. She choked, stifling her screams at the unexpected contact and willed herself to remain composed.

They entered a dwelling and Diana nearly tripped as she was pulled up a long staircase. After being shoved into a room, she winced when someone roughly pulled off her blindfold, tearing out strands of her hair in the process.

She blinked several times in rapid succession, allowing her eyes to become readjusted to the daylight. Then she turned with great curiosity to face Jonathan Marlow.

“Mr. Rotherby,” Diana whispered in amazement. “What a surprise.”

Rotherby laughed with genuine satisfaction. “Shall I comment on your wrinkled gown or your pale coloring this morning, Lady Diana,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

She simply stared at him. She could not believe the fawning dandy who had danced with her at Lady Harrington's ball, gossiping so enthusiastically about clothes and fashions, was the notorious Jonathan Marlow.

And what of Henriette? Was she too involved in this notorious deception? “Henriette?” She whispered softly.

“That stupid cow,” Marlow sneered. “She knows nothing of this. Her friendship with Rotherby provided me a legitimate excuse to visit with Giles during their marriage.”

Diana shivered at the coldness of Marlow's deep voice. Yet she had to credit him: Marlow had certainly perfected an effective disguise. No one would possibly make the connection. Even Derek had insisted she dance with Rotherby at the ball. But now that Marlow revealed himself to her, did he mean to kill her? Her stomach turned at the thought.

“Why have you brought me here, Mr. Mar—”

“You may address me as Marlow, Countess,” he said with a broad grin. “'Tis, after all, my true name.

“Why have you brought me here?” She repeated. She struggled to keep her voice steady. “Your note instructed me to meet you at the King's Arms Tavern.

Marlow's eyes were feverishly bright as he answered. “I also told you not to tell your husband about meeting me at the ball, Countess, yet I knew even before you left the ball that evening you would tell the earl.”

“But I—” she said, trying to deny his accusations.

Marlow waved his hand in annoyance. “Please don't insult my intelligence by lying to me, Lady Diana. Any fool can see how much you love your husband. And Rutledge loves you. Couples such as you rarely keep secrets from one another.”

“Why did you abduct me?”

“Your husband has a rather fierce reputation for protecting what is his. I can control him easier if you are in my custody. Besides, if any of that nonsense about your being an Ashton cousin is true, I am also up against Tristan and Morgan Ashton, two men with dangerous reputations. With you under my roof, I better my odds.”

“What do you want?” Diana whispered with dread, fearing she knew the answer.

He sneered at her, a most unpleasant smile. “I believe we have already discussed this at great length. I want the property Giles stole from me.”

“Ah, yes, the famous black book,” she said, feeling its outline in the pocket of her gown. She was certain that, as long as she kept the book away from Marlow, she would remain unharmed. “The earl and I found it fascinating reading. I am sure Lord Atherton and Sir Benning are relieved to have the book out of your hands.”

Marlow's eyes brightened noticeably at her mentioning two of the names from the book. “I knew you would find it,” he said triumphantly. “Where is it?”

“My husband took the book to the King's Arms Tavern, as you requested,” she said, terrified he might decide to search her. If Marlow found the book, he would probably kill her.

“I thought as much.” Marlow snorted. “I am sure he also devised a brilliant plan to capture me. But I have rather neatly outwitted him, haven't I, Lady Diana? It is too bad that, after I recover my property, I shall have to get rid of you both. Not a fitting reward for such a clever couple.”

Her already queasy stomach plummeted. She felt as if she might throw up. “Why the elaborate abduction with the blindfold if you plan to hurt me?”

Marlow walked over to the window, gazing down at the woodlands surrounding the house. “The blindfold was a necessary precaution. I have learned over the course of the past few weeks you are neither a weak nor easily manipulated woman. On the very slight chance you might manage to escape the confines of this room, I had to make certain you would not be able to find your way back to town. After all, your husband will be exceedingly disappointed if he comes to rescue you and finds you have already departed.”

“I have no doubt Derek will indeed find me, Mr. Marlow,” she replied with complete faith in her husband's abilities.

“Of course he will find you, Lady Diana,” Marlow sneered. “I am counting on it. One of my men, a footman in your household, will provide the essential clue, describing the mysterious coach parked outside your house just before your disappearance. I have left a difficult, but not impossible trail for the earl to follow.”

“What are you planning?”

Marlow's look was decidedly sadistic. “After I have recovered my property and captured Rutledge and whoever else is foolish enough to accompany him, I shall dispose of the lot of you. If there are too many corpses, I shall have to resort to torching the entire house; if not, I shall merely remove the bodies and dump them in the river.”

She shivered noticeably at the casual tone he used. He acted as if he were trying to decide between two items for dinner, not plotting the deaths of innocent people.

“What could possibly be so significant about this book that would bring you to murder?” she asked breathlessly.

Marlow's face contorted in an expression of anger. “It has taken me the better part of seven years to collect the information contained in that book. It provides an essential part of my income and I refuse to relinquish it without a fight.”

Seeing her puzzled frown, Marlow continued. “Blackmail, Countess,” he whispered reverently.

“There are numerous members of society, as well as government officials, who prefer that their occasional lapses in morality and honesty remain a secret. They pay me handsomely for my silence.”

“Was Giles paying you to keep silent about his two marriages?”

Marlow stiffened. “Giles always maintained his marriage to you was a fake. I didn't know he had actually married you until a year into our association. A slip of the tongue while indulging in too much wine and I knew his sordid secret.” Marlow smiled mockingly. “I first met Giles when he was searching among the more notorious inhabitants of London for a man skilled in forgery. As Marlow, I assisted him in the sale of many of your properties, supplying the required signatures. Apparently it became too much of an inconvenience for Giles to travel to Cornwall to see you each time he needed additional funds. As Rotherby, I avoided contact with him in society, but he began requiring Marlow's services so often he eventually discovered my secret identity.”

Horrified, yet spellbound, Diana asked, “What happened?”

“Giles and I became partners. By then I knew he was a bigamist, so we each had a secret worth keeping. Giles provided Rotherby with access to even higher levels of society. With his help, I was able to ferret out many fascinating bits of information, greatly increasing the value of my black book. Ultimately, however, Giles became too greedy. He stole my book, my living, so I took his life. A fair exchange, do you not agree?”

Diana began backing away from Marlow, repulsed by the reckless desperation she saw lurking in his eyes. “Derek will not allow your evil schemes to continue,” she said softly. “He will stop you, Mr. Marlow.”

Marlow's mouth curved up in a chilling grin. “I do imagine he shall try, my lady.” With a final parting glance, he left.

 

Diana alternated between deathly calm and unbridled panic as she waited for Derek to arrive. The room she was locked in was small and spartan, with one unlocked window. After examining the window she understood why. It was a long, steep, four-story drop to the ground beneath. Even for someone without her peculiar fear of heights, it was a substantial drop.

Discouraged, she craned her head out of the open window, trying to get a better look at the house. Although not an overly large dwelling, there were numerous windows, and she knew Derek would have a difficult task trying to locate the room where she was imprisoned.

Diana decided it would be necessary to mark the window for Derek, but how? She shut the window and immediately picked up the single candle fitted tightly in its brass base, intending to leave it in the window as a signal. Yet she hesitated, wondering how her husband would react. A lone lit candle in the window. It might look suspicious. She thought for a moment and then wedged her linen handkerchief between the upper and lower cases of the double-hung window, hoping Derek would be able to see it and understand its meaning. Her task completed, she resumed her pacing.

 

The linen handkerchief was immediately noticed by Derek, Morgan, and Tristan as they observed the house, covered by the protection of the thick underbrush several hundred feet away.

“It could be a trap,” Derek said pointing toward the top floor window where the cloth was clearly distinguishable through the glass.

“Yes,” Morgan said. “Or it might be a sign from Diana.” He squinted. “How do you wish to proceed, Derek?”

“I'm going to climb up there,” he said. He pulled a length of rope from the saddle of his horse, who was tethered to a nearby tree. He crossed the rope over his chest and adjusted his two pistols. “If Diana is up there, I will bring her down. If I am discovered, order the soldiers to rush the house, Tristan.” Derek faced Morgan and Tristan squarely. “I want you both to swear you will see to Diana's safety, should anything happen to me.”

The two brothers exchanged looks and then nodded in solemn agreement.

“Good luck,” Morgan murmured quietly as Derek waited to make his move.

Tristan and Morgan watched as Derek dashed from the cover of the thicket toward the house. Once there, he pressed himself against the building and waited until he was certain no one had seen him before beginning his climb.

Derek brushed aside the thick ivy vines and searched the aged brick for a hold. He dug away some loose mortar and wedged the toe of his boot into the opening. Grabbing tightly onto the ivy vine, he hoisted himself up. He waited breathlessly to see if the vine would support his weight before continuing. Miraculously it did, and within a relatively short span of time, he had successfully scaled the side of the house. He came to rest on the outer ledge of the top floor, pleased to have his feet on the strong, narrow stone.

Carefully inching over on the ledge, he peered cautiously into the room he believed Diana occupied.

Diana's face appeared suddenly in the window. “Derek!” she said loudly. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

What he nearly did loose was his balance, at his wife's sudden and startling appearance. “For heaven's sake, be quiet,” he said, wondering if Diana had just inadvertently alerted the entire household of his presence. “And stand away from the window.”

Diana ignored his order and stepped forward, throwing the window wide open. She stuck her arm out, trying to grab hold of him, and she almost knocked him off the ledge. “Give me your arm, Derek, so I may help you inside.”

It took tremendous strength of will for Derek not to shout at his wife. He knew she was only trying to help, but if she continued with her unwanted aid, she would probably push him off the ledge. “I do not need your assistance, Diana. Kindly step away from the window so I may enter the room” He spoke in a forceful, commanding tone. This time, Diana obeyed.