Wicked Proposition (28 page)

Nicholas lit a match in the dark room and found
a candle. They lit several more and reviewed the room. A small bed,
a chest and a table were the only furniture in the room. There were
few signs it had been occupied recently.

Nicholas flipped back the frayed quilt on the
bed and grabbed the pillow there. He brought it to his face,
smelling only its mustiness, not Catherine’s heady scent upon it.
Tieghan glared at him in disgust.

“I’m not even going to ask why you smell her
pillow. I do not want to know.”

“She has not slept here,” Nicholas informed him
triumphantly. “I would know her smell if I were blindfolded in the
dark.”

“You might not wish to let Lord Iverleigh know
how you know what the wench smells like in bed!”

“You knew about that, did you?” Nicholas asked
in amusement, for nothing got past Tieghan.

“Maggie told me you had a visitor that day,”
Tieghan replied as he searched the room. “I might have known it was
her.”

“She is innocent, Tieghan,” Nicholas argued and
his blue eyes blazed as Tieghan snorted in disagreement. “The day
she was with me, she was supposedly trying to cash a forged draft
at Gabriel’s bank! That proves she is not Madeline Sinclair!”

“Do you plan on telling him where his mistress
really was that day, Nicholas?” Tieghan challenged darkly. “I told
you this would end badly for you.”

Nicholas tossed the pillow down, knowing how
such news would go over with Gabriel, even if it proved Catherine’s
innocence. Tieghan found a trunk in the corner and the two of them
opened it. As soon as Nicholas saw the pale rose gown within, he
knew the clothes were indeed Catherine’s. But how they got here
made his gut churn.

He went through the trunk, tossing out the
clothing until he reached the bare bottom, cursing. He found
nothing within it to implicate her or exonerate her. Tieghan held
the candle aloft and Nicholas saw something sticking out of the
ripped lining in the bottom. He reached down to pull out the
yellowed document.

Nicholas opened it and was grim-faced to read
it. He put it in his pocket. He had no intention of allowing this
to come to Gabriel’s attention until he found Catherine.

“What have you there? More evidence she is
guilty?”

“Stay out of it, Tieghan!”

“You need to stop this, Nicholas,” Tieghan said
under his breath, “You need to get your cock under control and
realize she is guilty of all they say. Let the Earl deal with
her!”

“When has my gut ever been wrong in the
past?”

“This is different. You were never as involved
as you are now. You merely want to believe her innocent of all
this.”

“I feel it, she is not the woman they speak of,
Tieghan,” he argued and put all the clothing back into the trunk,
and looked about. “From the look of this place, she hasn’t even
been here. This is being made to look as though she has, for a
reason. I warrant Thornton is at the bottom of this.”

“Do we wait to see if she comes back?”

Nicholas shook his head, disturbed as they left
the room to return to the ship. When he was alone in his cabin, he
took the document out of his chest pocket. He read the marriage
contract between Gabriel and his wife and shook his head, trying to
figure out why Catherine had even stolen it from Gabriel in the
first place.

His eyes lit up as he ran across the name in the
document of Gabriel’s intended wife, and the date the document was
signed and originated. He whistled as he sat back in his chair,
sipping ale as he contemplated the proof Catherine found against
both Thornton and Gabriel’s wife.

According to the document, signed over eighteen
years before, Gabriel was married to the wrong woman. The signature
of Edward Thornton’s more than proved the London barrister could
not be him, because of his obvious youth when the document was
originated.

What are you up to, love?

He sipped his ale, trying to figure out what
Catherine had intended to do with this item she held. Most
disturbing of all was that she would leave such powerful proof
behind. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated those reasons. Pain
filled his chest to think Sullivan had found her first.

###

Gabriel felt his heart clench as he authorized
Catherine’s arrest. The magistrate and his runners were now looking
for Madeline Sinclair. The thought of her being imprisoned made him
tense with worry and anxiety. Only when he was alone did he allow
himself to question Catherine’s actions. He warred within himself
to find some means to excuse her and find a shred of evidence to
give her some benefit of the doubt.

None existed, and he fought the bitterness
growing in him to know he had been cleverly deceived once more by a
woman. A part of him wanted her to get away. The horrible thoughts
of her languishing in prison for the rest of her life or even
hanging kept him up long into the night.

He was glad he had the two young boys in his
care, for it gave him much to do, and less time to think about
Catherine. His wards were incorrigible and out of control.

Jaime, the eldest at ten, refused authority of
any kind. He enjoyed telling him they were the same rank and
refused to believe he and his guardian were not equals already. The
boy had the audacity to demand Gabriel call him Lord Dunleavy,
instead of his given name. The boy was given a respectful swat on
his backside and sent to bed without supper.

Cullen was every guardian’s worst nightmare. The
servants steered clear of the hoydenish brat because of his
fiendish pranks, usually involving worms, bugs, or frogs. Higgins
had been locked in the coat closet for hours the day before, and he
suspected his youngest ward was the culprit.

Both of them seemed quite resilient, even for
all the tragedy in their young lives. Jaime informed him
imperiously his sister was not dead on several occasions, making
him aware the boy was still deeply grieving her loss. The boy
argued adamantly of it, and often. He claimed to have proof.
Gabriel rarely let him go beyond that statement before silencing
him.

Gabriel knew it would take time for the boys to
settle in. He was lenient with them in the meantime. They had lost
so much in their short lives.

Nicholas was busy with matters securing a cargo
for his ship now. He would be leaving soon for the Caribbean. His
friend was quiet these days. Gabriel rarely saw him.

Gabriel was growing decidedly lonely as a
result.

He had met a woman recently, a widow by the name
of Annabelle Hart. Mrs. Hart was a pretty redhead with
bluebell-colored eyes and a ravishing figure. She was desirable and
available, but his heart wasn’t in the affair. Gabriel was finding
it difficult to just pick up and move on after Catherine; or
Madeline, rather. He knew he should take whatever Annabelle offered
and forget about Catherine, but his heart remained steadfast, even
if he started to believe the woman he loved was very well a
criminal.

Chumley could not find one single connection
between Iverleigh’s wife and the barrister. It was a thought he
toyed with. It pulled at him. He knew whatever pulled, led
somewhere.

Myron made no mention of what he suspected to
the Earl, pitying the man that he surrounded himself with such
faithless women. He stayed silent and put a man on the Earl’s
former residence. The Countess was bedridden with her pregnancy
still, and the only persons who came and went were servants and her
doctor.

Thornton had a stellar record with his current
clients and his reputation was impeccable. Lady Iverleigh had never
been seen in Thornton’s company since he arrived in London either,
as much as Chumley wished to implicate her.

The two had apparently not crossed paths since
Lady Iverleigh was a young girl, for all intents and purposes.
Chumley more than suspected the pair avoided each other publically
to clear the Countess of any wrongdoing should Sullivan be
exposed.

The deaths of Lord and Lady Dunleavy, Clarice
Devereaux and the recent disappearance of Samuel Vickers all had
some connection. Chumley was growing increasingly frustrated by his
inability to discover what that was. He saw Lord Iverleigh’s
anxious expression when he arrived to give his weekly report, and
felt for the man.

“Yes, I believe there are far too many mysteries
here, my lord, which can only state the very obvious fact something
is very wrong,” Chumley asserted staunchly and his grey eyes flared
briefly. “I cannot tell you how perplexing this whole case is.”

“You have uncovered nothing new of Catherine?”
the Earl asked in a pained voice and an expression which told
Chumley the man suffered desperately for some news of his lady.
“It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“I fear you are right, Lord Iverleigh,” Chumley
agreed and gave up trying to avoid making any speculations to
further upset the man. “I cannot find any tangible proof the woman
still lives. I’m sorry, but I would venture that your lady had her
share of secrets. As much as it troubles you, we must assume she
was somehow involved in Sullivan’s schemes and he had something to
do with her disappearance.”

“You have done a good job, Myron. Please
continue your work,” the Earl said softly and his dark eyes held
some hidden emotion in them. “Sooner or later you will catch him at
his game.”

“I sincerely hope it is in time to discover what
has become of Miss Sinclair, my lord.” Chumley left the study to
visit with the boys before he took his leave.

Chumley went up to the schoolroom where the boys
were back taking their lessons. Mrs. Silsbee appeared relieved. Her
charges were arguing and the break was needed.

The elderly governess took her leave and Myron
smiled at the two boys, both contrite, thinking they would be
punished. Cullen, the tow-headed devil, stuck out his tongue at his
brother. Cullen eyed Jaime angrily, his blue eyes filled with
tears. His older brother was rigid and not regretful after he had
hit his brother.

“What is the matter here?” Myron demanded as he
walked in on his short little legs and stood before both boys, his
steely gaze keeping them rooted to the spot.

Jaime glared Cullen into silence.

“Well, if you won’t settle the matter like
gentlemen, I can always call His Lordship up here. What is it to
be?”

“Cullen said Cat was dead!” Jaime cried and his
green eyes filled with anger and resentment. “She’s not dead! I saw
what I saw, and she is not dead! Nobody will listen to me!”

Myron frowned, knowing both boys deeply grieved
their sister, Jaime more, being the eldest.

“I am sorry, Master Jaime, but she is gone,”
Myron replied sadly, his eyes softening. “You must stop this at
once.”

“No she is not dead and I can prove it!” Jaime
raged.

Cullen pulled on his frock coat frantically,
trying to get his brother to keep silent.

“I saw the body! I saw that woman they said was
her! It’s all a lie!”

“You saw your sister’s body?” Myron asked,
frowning as he saw the boys both look guiltily to the floor. “What
did you do, Jaime? Out with it! Now if you please!”

Jaime fidgeted and Cullen looked ill to know
they were discovered. He was expecting a sound punishment now.
Jaime’s green eyes filled with tears as he stood on eye level with
Myron.

“We snuck into the crypt the night before the
funeral,” he admitted sorrowfully and Cullen bit his lip. “We
wanted to see a real dead body. Cullen got scared and ran away. I
saw her laying there all covered in blood, with her clothes torn. I
was scared but I stayed, and that’s when I saw proof it wasn’t our
sister! Nobody will listen to me!”

“What proof do you have, Master Jaime?” Myron
prodded, feeling a sense of excitement stirring.

“The dead lady had six toes on her feet,” Jaime
said miserably and cringed from the look of disgust Myron gave him
at that.

“Six toes, you say?”

“On both feet,” Jaime said and nodded
dejectedly, eyes rooted to the floor, “my sister only had five! I
tried to tell them, but nobody listened to me! Cat is alive!”

Myron listened and nodded grimly. He accepted
Jaime’s explanation and left the two boys. He returned to Lord
Iverleigh’s study at once.

“How can this be possible?” Gabriel asked hotly
and his dark eyes flared in outrage. “Brian O’Neil identified her
remains, Chumley. What you are saying is my eldest ward is alive?
You base this on my incorrigible ward claiming he saw the dead
woman’s feet?”

“My lord, you cannot discount what he has seen.
I agree the macabre interest both boys had merits my concerns too,
but he saw it,” Myron said quietly. “He claims the woman had this
deformity of her feet, and his sister did not. I think it fair to
assume the woman buried there is not your ward.”

Gabriel nodded and his lips tightened. He was
getting more disturbed the more Chumley discovered. He had not
slept easily since Catherine’s disappearance, nor had he given up
hope he would find her. He also refused to call her Madeline.

“Who is buried there, Chumley?”

“That is what I intend to find out, my lord,”
Myron said grimly. “This case continues to get more interesting, I
must admit. You must consider the ramifications if the girl is
alive, my lord.”

“Do what you must, Myron, and say nothing to the
boys,” he said stiffly. “We wouldn’t want to get their hopes up
their sister lives.”

“I need permission to have the body at Dunleavy
exhumed, my lord,” Myron replied and shrugged at his pained look.
“We must get to the bottom of it. If this deformity exists, we have
another missing piece to this puzzle.”

Gabriel nodded his consent. His emotions were
taut. He vowed if Jaime was lying he would give him a sound
thrashing.

Chumley took his leave and he was once more left
alone with his brooding thoughts. Gabriel was once again forced to
reconcile himself to the possibility Catherine had been involved in
something dangerous, and had possibly been killed for it.