The Marriage Ring (18 page)

Grace would adore the ring and the idea of marrying her before they left for Glasgow took greater hold in his mind, so his step was light as he hurried back to the Thistle.

As he approached the inn, he saw a movement in an upstairs window and recognized Grace. She caught sight of him and opened the window. Her hair was loose and free over one shoulder. She was wearing the blue dress with the ripped bodice.

“I have something for you,” he said proudly, holding up his dress package.

Her eyes lit up. “Bring it to me.”

He laughed and ducked into the inn, nodding to two old men who had taken up residence on a bench outside the door. He took the steps up to their room two at a time.

Grace was holding the door open, waiting for him. He held out the dress package. She carried it into the room and ripped off the paper.

Her breath caught. She raised the dress, shaking it out. “This is lovely,” she said. She held it up to her person.

“Will it fit?” Richard asked, a bit anxious. “The dressmaker said we could stop by and she’d take a stitch or two if it didn’t.”

Her answer was to give him a big loving kiss. “Let’s see if it fits,” she said and started to undress.

Of course, then she couldn’t try on the dress because Richard couldn’t help himself and went for another kiss…which led them back to the bed.

Holding her in his arms, he toyed with the idea of giving her the ring now. He decided against it. Offering the ring shouldn’t be like a man giving presents to a mistress. It should be done with some formality, some style. He decided he’d do it over breakfast.

Rising from the bed, he gave her another kiss and began to dress. “You take your time,” he told her. “I’ll go down and tell Mrs. Farley we are almost ready for breakfast.”

“Wait,” Grace answered. “I won’t take long to dress, plus I could use your help tying the sash on the dress.”

She was true to her word. Grace wasn’t a fussy woman, nor did she need to be. She threw the dress over her head. “It’s a bit long and a tad snug here,” she said, indicating her bodice. “But I don’t think you will mind.”

“Not one complaint,” Richard agreed. The dress was spectacular on her. The high waist emphasized the fullness of her breasts. The sleeves were short with the same lace trim as the bodice and the material was such that the skirt seemed to move and sway with her every movement.

“It’s so elegant,” Grace said as he tied the sash into a low bow the way she instructed him to do since such a style was all the rage. She stepped back, holding her arms open. “What do you think?”

“I believe I have very good taste,” he said.

She laughed. “I agree.” She folded her old dress and picked up her cape. “Let’s go for our breakfast. I’m starving.”

“And when we reach the dining room, I have another surprise,” Richard said.

“What is it?” Grace asked.

“Downstairs,” he insisted.

She threw open the door. “Then let’s go.”

They went downstairs, laughing and arguing over which one was the more hungry and could eat the most.

However the laughter stopped as they entered the dining room. They had visitors.

His father and his uncle sat at a table drinking cider and coffee. They wore traveling clothes and their boots were muddy as if they had ridden very hard. His uncle noticed him first.

“Richard, at last we’ve caught up with each other.”

His father rose from his chair. His face was pale and he looked very tired.

Not his uncle. He was the picture of good humor and health. “Please, sit down and join us,” he invited. “We ran into a traveling fighter and their manager in Glasgow last night who had unkind words to say about John Bull. Your father and I sensed it was you. I say, I’m glad to see you took my advice, nephew, and have been enjoying your time with Miss MacEachin. Well done.” He gave her a wink before adding, “There are some wagers on the betting books that will pay off handsomely—but you already knew that.”

Chapter Eighteen

G
race was absolutely certain Lord Maven was baiting her. She had more faith in her man than that. Richard was incapable of using a word like “love” lightly.

So she found it easy to keep her composure and walk into the room, holding out her hand to say, “Good morning, Lord Maven, did you bring your murderous coachman with you? And, Lord Brandt, have you hired a new valet yet?”

Her words wiped the smirk off Lord Maven’s face. The brothers exchanged glances.

In truth, she found it eerie how similar the twins looked in appearance. Even the lines of their faces seemed marked in the same places. And the way they were looking at each other just now, as if they could communicate without words, was also unsettling.

Richard came up behind her, placing reassuring hands on her shoulders. “Father, I need to know, did you order Herbert to murder Miss MacEachin?”

His father turned from his twin. His gaze landed on Richard’s hand on Grace’s shoulders before he looked back up and said soberly, “Yes, Richard, I did.”

For a second, Grace didn’t believe her ears. She had been right, but she felt no elation. If anything his father’s matter-of-fact admission sickened her.

Richard’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “Well, then you will understand why we can’t stay a second more under the same roof together. Come, Grace.” He started out the door with her at his side.

“Don’t be dramatic,” his uncle said, stepping into their path.

“By your order, Herbert attempted to kill her and almost cost me my life,” Richard continued. “And you are accusing me of being dramatic? Be honest, uncle, my death would not sadden you. You have considered me an intrusion since I was born. Perhaps you have hoped Miss MacEachin and I die together.”

“I
would not see you harmed, Richard,” his father said. “And you are unfair to Stephen. You are our heir, for God’s sake. It all became a bit carried away.”

“Yes, why would we wish to lose the one man who knows
all
our business affairs,” his uncle chimed in. Grace detested his flippancy. “After all, a man must do what he must to protect his interests.”

“Apparently I didn’t know all,” Richard said. “I didn’t know about your roles stealing Dame Mary Ewing’s money. Perhaps you should have had me murdered…since you will be handling your financial matters alone in the future.”

Grace was so proud of him she could have kissed him. He started to walk out again.

“
Wait
,” his father called out. “Richard, you deserve to hear the full story. You
owe
us that much. If after hearing our tale you wish to leave, then go with our blessing.”

“Yes, Richard. A hearing. That’s all we ask,” his uncle agreed.

Richard stood in indecision and Grace knew he had to hear the story. But she had one important question. “Did you send the men who attacked me after my final performance?”

“No,” Richard’s father said. “We were surprised to hear of the attack, and I’ll be honest enough to admit we were not disappointed by it. But it did give us the idea to have you disappear on the road to Scotland.”

“Why should we believe you?” Richard asked. “Thinking back, I didn’t sense you were so terribly surprised when I told you of the attack.”

“That’s because we’d heard the rumors,” his uncle said. “We were hoping someone else would take care of Miss MacEachin for us.”

“And what were the rumors?” Richard demanded.

“That Lord Stone had had enough of Miss MacEachin’s ignoring his gifts and flowers. His besetting sin is pride and he bragged to everyone he would bed her. They said he was thinking to do things the rough way by kidnapping her. He was to be out of town for several days but had invited a party of men to his hunting lodge for what he promised would be a grand treat. I believe, Miss MacEachin,
you
were to be the treat.”

Her stomach turned at the thought of it.

“However, a curious thing happened with Stone,” his father continued. “He disappeared for several days but showed up in someone’s hay bin. He’d been bound and gagged, so no one knew he was there. I suppose pride kept him from making too much of a fuss. Anyway, he was dumped into the bin and no one was the wiser until a stable lad went to feed the horses and out popped Stone’s head.”

His uncle started laughing. “They said after they took the gag off, they wanted to put it back on because he was so foul.”

“And did he say what happened?” Richard asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“He refuses to discuss the matter,” his uncle replied. “You went to school with him, didn’t you, nephew?”

“I did. We weren’t friends.”

“The man has very few,” his uncle agreed. “By the way, a number of people saw the set down you gave him. Word is all over London, along with speculation over who threw him into the hay wagon.”

Richard didn’t answer…but Grace sensed the twins knew and respected him for it.
She
certainly did.

His father turned to her. “Miss MacEachin, my twin and I are wise enough to know when we’ve been bested. You know your story could ruin us. But please, you and Richard, sit and hear our side. It is the least you should do before passing judgment.”

Grace knew if she made a move toward the door, Richard would go with her. He was that loyal. However, a part of her wanted to know what the twins would say after denying even knowing her father. She moved toward the chair Lord Maven held out.

Mrs. Fraley entered the room, noticed she had new customers and came rushing over to the table with breakfast plates for Lord Maven and Lord Brandt. She smiled, her expression warm and sunny. “Are you ready for yours and the missus’s?” she asked Richard.

“Yes, we are,” he answered.

Lord Maven waited until Mrs. Fraley had left to say, “The missus?” He started laughing.

Grace ignored him. She looked to Richard’s father. “Tell me the story. Richard says you never were in Scotland but that isn’t true, is it?”

“No,” the man admitted. “Stephen and I were both in Inverness at the time that Dame Mary’s fortune went missing.”

“And did you steal it, Father?”

Lord Brandt had trouble meeting his son’s eye. His uncle had no such difficulty. “We did. But not in the way you believe it to be.”

“What other way of stealing is there?” Richard demanded, but the question went unanswered as Mrs. Fraley returned to the table with more plates loaded with food.

She set the heaviest plate in front of Grace. “You are eating for two.” She looked around the table. “Is there anything else I can be finding for you?”

“We are fine,” Richard answered.

The inn mistress bobbed a quick curtsey and left.

“Eating for two?” Lord Maven said.

“It’s quite a story,” Richard answered, not even flinching under his uncle’s curiosity. “Let’s hear your tale first.”

His uncle sighed, folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “Do you tell him, Gregory, or do I?”

“You may.”

Leaning an arm on the table, Richard’s uncle started in, “We went to Inverness on a fishing trip. The truth was we were dodging our creditors. We’d invested in a ship that had not returned. We’d gone flat out on it. Gambled all, and the ship disappeared. There hadn’t been a word of it and it was three months late coming into port. While on our fishing expedition, we met Reverend Jonathon MacEachin. We became friends, and he confided he needed advice. One of his parishioners, Dame Mary Ewing, was advancing in years. Indeed, she was very frail and often confused. She was also very wealthy and she wished for him to help her handle her finances. Supposedly, one of her servants had stolen a large sum from her and she didn’t want to have it happen again. She asked the good reverend to serve as her man of business.”

“Why did he go to you?” Richard asked, the same question Grace was wondering.

“He had no experience in these matters and we did, even if our own finances were teetering precariously,” his father answered. “We sat down with Reverend MacEachin and Dame Mary and advised them both on how such a relationship should work. That’s all we did.”

“
Nonsense
,” Grace said, the word exploding out of her. She’d not touched her meal. She had no appetite for it.

“Here we go again,” Lord Maven muttered, pushing back his chair. “At last you can see how difficult she is,” he told Richard. “She refuses to believe us.”

“What is wrong with their story, Grace?” Richard asked.

“Because there is more to it,” she said. “Your names came up in the court documents and the money went missing after you met with my father.” Their explanation did help her understand some of the missing pieces of information. “Besides, if it was all so innocent, you would have said so in the beginning and be done with me. There’s more here you are not telling.”

Richard’s father drew a long drink from his tankard. He set it town, his hands cupping the pewter mug, as he looked over at his twin.

“Tell her all,” Lord Maven said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously, it does,” Grace answered, “or else you would be out with it by now.”

“Dame Mary had a sizeable fortune,” Richard’s father said. “And she wasn’t certain of all of her accounts. We helped Reverend MacEachin document them and gave him some advice. Dame Mary was a very generous woman. She trusted easily.” He looked right at Grace as he said these statements as if he wanted to impress upon her their import. “We had some investments we wanted to make. Opportunities we couldn’t take advantage of because of our funds being tied up with that deuced ship—”

“So you helped yourselves to her money and let Father carry the blame,” Grace said, elated to at last have the truth.

“
No
,” Richard’s father answered. “Dame Mary considered the money a gift.”

“A gift?” Grace repeated, letting her disbelief show.

“Yes, Miss MacEachin, a gift. Or you could say a payment for services performed. After all, she and the reverend asked us questions that we answered. The money came at a fortuitous time. It righted our fortunes and provided the stake that Richard has used to multiply our accounts tenfold.”

Grace couldn’t sit at the table any longer. She stood. “Who would give such a generous gift? My mother was right. You took the money and my father paid the price.”

“Miss MacEachin, your father was found guilty in a court of law,” Richard’s father said.

“An
English
court,” Grace said. “
English
law.”

“Only because that is where Dame Mary’s relatives filed their claim.” Lord Maven pushed his chair back in anger.

“Then if you are so innocent, why are you here?” Grace challenged. “Why did you want to stop Richard from hearing the truth?”

“Because it doesn’t sound good,” his father answered, his own temper growing heated. “It sounds as if we were taking advantage of a senile woman—”

“You
were
taking advantage of her,” Grace stated flatly.

“Not according to the law,” his father flashed back. “And I like to think we’ve done good things with the money. Invested it wisely.”

“But it wasn’t yours to invest,” she countered.

“On the contrary,” his uncle said, “it was, and, unlike your father, no court found us guilty of taking it without permission.”

“If you are so innocent, why would you fear my telling the story to a magistrate?” she challenged.

“Because we have our share of enemies, Miss MacEachin,” his father said. “Certainly you can appreciate our situation. My brother and I decided early on to reject the lavish lifestyle celebrated by most of our contemporaries. We prefer piety and a moral code. When a man makes that sort of decision, he is judged harshly by his fellows. They don’t like being reminded that we are all sinners. If word of your accusations, true or not, reached the papers, our reputations would be ruined.”

Richard stirred on that statement. “And perhaps there is a bit of guilt mixed in there as well, Father? For all of your fine posturing, you and my uncle are not above taking shortcuts where money is concerned, moral code or not. After all, you’ve already admitted to attempting murder.”

Grace wanted to kiss him for that statement.

The color drained from his father’s face. “We became carried away. A man’s reputation, Richard…it’s worth more than gold.”

But his twin wasn’t so contrite. He turned to Grace, his eyes alive with dislike. “Let’s talk truth. On whose information do you base your accusations? Has your father made them?”

“Yes. He told me that he was unjustly accused. You ruined his life and mine. A
gift
?” She infused the word with disdain. “All that he should have had, should have been, you stole from him when you let him pay the price for your thievery.”

His uncle came to his feet. “Miss MacEachin, you go too far.”

“I don’t go far enough, or you would be locked up by now, Lord Maven.”

Richard had stood, too. He was at Grace’s side.

His father leaned his elbows on the table, burying his head in his hands. “I knew it would come to this, Stephen. I warned you. I said it would be this way.”

“Only because Miss MacEachin is the daughter of a lying clergyman,” his twin answered.

Grace wanted to carve his tongue out for the insult. Richard caught her arm before she could attack. “You owe her an apology, uncle.”

“Do I?” His uncle shook his head. “Years ago we helped MacEachin. Were we more than handsomely rewarded for our services, mayhap even excessively so? Of course. But we were anxious to put our mark on the world and no funds to do so. And then, here was this dotty old woman and her conniving clergyman anxious to give us money, and we took it. Were we a touch greedy? Perhaps.”

“And we have paid dearly for involving ourselves with Dame Mary and your father,” Richard’s father said, rising from his chair. He held a beseeching hand out as if begging her to understand. “When the charges were made against your father, we feared we’d be roped into his misdeeds, too. We prepared ourselves. And then nothing. No one charged us.”