The Fortune Hunter
Page 27
The solicitor mumbled a good day as he left the room. Cole shut the parlor door behind him. Nerissa was sure he was going to give her an explanation, but instead he said, “I have had my eyes opened, Nerissa, and I care little for what I see of your uncomely behavior.”
“I have done nothing of which I should be ashamed.”
“It is not your place to question the decisions I have made with Crimmins on your behalf. I leave you to your concerns for the household as I share the good tidings of my inheritance with Elinor.”
Jumping to her feet, she cried, “Cole, that money is not yours!”
“On the contrary, it is mine and mine alone.”
“Your father stole it!”
His smile disappeared as he seized her arm and shook her. “I shall hear no more of that, Nerissa. My father was a grand inspiration to me.”
“How?” she whispered, although her ears rang with his rough behavior. “You have toiled all your life to reach a goal. He never worked a day in his life.”
“My father worked very hard.”
“But his ill-gotten gains should not be used to help finance your canal. Cole, it is sure to bring the taint of misfortune to your project.”
“The canal already is a greater success than I had ever hoped.” He smirked slyly. “Cathcart has proven to be very, very generous in his enthusiasm.”
“You are bronzing him!” she whispered, not wanting to believe that she had allowed herself to be taken in as completely as the baronet. “You never intended to build that canal, did you?”
“How can you say that, dear sister? Haven’t I spent years designing it? Do you think I would do all that work for nothing?”
“It would not be for nothing. You will have Sir Jerrold’s money. How many others have you bamboozled into believing that you propose to go through with this windmill in your head when all you wish to do is fleece them as readily as your father did?”
He raised his hand, but, when she continued to regard him without cringing, he lowered it. “I shall hear no more insults to my father.”
“No,” she returned fiercely, “but you shall hear them of you. When I tell—”
With a curse, he shoved her back into the chair. “You shall tell no one anything. Unless I give you permission otherwise, you shall remain in your rooms and receive no callers until we leave for Town.”
“I shall not be a prisoner in my own house.”
“This is, as I should not need to remind you, my house. I shall have the profits from its sale as well as what small bit of brass you shall receive from the sale of that rickety hovel in the country.”
Shock struck her as viciously as any blow. “Cole, you cannot be serious. Hill’s End is mine.”
“I am serious as I assume the duties of a brother to watch over your finances.” He laughed, then said, “Oh, and, by the by, Nerissa, I believe this is yours.” He tossed a piece of paper in her lap.
When she picked it up, she gasped, stunned anew by his duplicity. It was the note she had written to Hamilton.
“Hadfield is having a message delivered to Lord Windham that you will be unable to see him again.” His smile was icy. “I am sure you understand the wisdom of that, sister dear.”
“I understand none of this.” She stood and crumpled the note in her hand. “And I shall have nothing to do with your beastly plans.”
“But you will, Nerissa.” He motioned with feigned graciousness toward the door. “You have no other choice.”
Glasses clinked as Cole, Elinor, and Sir Jerrold made yet another toast to their good fortune. Nerissa sat, her glass untasted on a table in front of her, and tried to think of a way to speak to the baronet alone. He seemed a gentle soul, who had allowed himself to become enmeshed in Cole’s evil scheme to empty his pockets of every sparkle of gold.
Cole’s laughter faded as Hadfield came into the room. Motioning for the butler to come to him, he said nothing as Hadfield bent to whisper in his ear. Cole’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he smiled. “By all means, Hadfield, show our caller in. It would be most impolite to leave him cooling his heels in the foyer.”
Nerissa recognized the sound of the forceful footfalls instantly. Jumping to her feet, she gasped, “Hamilton!”
Hamilton swore silently as he saw Elinor with her arm draped about a strange man’s shoulders. Not that he cared a rush if the man wished to buy his old boots. What he cared about was discovering why Nerissa had sent him such an unfeeling message. He suspected it had something to do with Elinor Howe, but said only, “Good evening, Nerissa. And to you, Cathcart. Elinor, you are looking good.”
“As you are, Hamilton dear.”
He turned to Cole. “Sir, I do not believe we have met.”
“I am Nerissa’s brother,” the strange man said.
He looked again at Nerissa. She was worrying the lace on her gown, warning him that she was distressed. “Your servant, Mr. Dufresne.”
“Hamilton—”
Her brother interrupted her curtly. “Now, Nerissa, why don’t you go and chat with Elinor and let us men tend to business?”
“Yes,” Elinor cooed, taking Nerissa’s hand. “We shall leave you to your brandy and conversation. Good evening, gentlemen.” She murmured something to Nerissa. Although Hamilton could not hear the words, he saw Nerissa stiffen. She did not look at him as she went with Elinor from the room.
“Pilcher, get the man some brandy,” crowed Cathcart.
“Pilcher?” asked Hamilton.
“I am Nerissa’s stepbrother.” He splashed brandy in a glass and handed it to Hamilton.
Hamilton’s eyes slitted. Pilcher! The name had taunted him across the years, but he had surmised that the man who had cheated his father out of thirty thousand pounds would have used a false name. The thief had been more bold than he had guessed, or else this was an uncommon coincidence.
Coincidence? That Pilcher was here in Bath, exactly where the trail had led? Or that Nerissa was connected to him? His hands fisted at his sides. Mallory had tried to show him that Nerissa was part of this when the Bow Street Runner abducted her from the Upper Rooms. Beef-brained that he was, Hamilton had not heeded the thief-taker.
“My error,” he said emotionlessly. What a widgeon he had been to trust the very woman who had used her wiles to seduce him into giving up his search!
“How kind of you to give us a look-in,” Cathcart spouted as he held up his empty glass of brandy to have it refilled. “More for me, too, Pilcher. Have you decided to invest in our canal project as well, Windham? With my money and Pilcher’s recent bequest from his late father, we soon shall be the envy of every man in England.”
“A bequest?” Hamilton turned back to Pilcher. Cathcart was as full as a goat, so there would be no persuading him now to listen to the good sense of ending any business relationship with Pilcher. “Congratulations, Pilcher, and I applaud you as well for finding a godfather for your project with such speed. Surely you should be able to get approval from the government now that you have golden grease to help you obtain your permits with good speed.”
“No need to worry about investors at this point, for we have all the gilt we need to begin. My dear sister Nerissa has agreed to invest the money she has received on the dirty acres her mother left her.”
“Is that so?”
“Windham, I—” Pilcher was interrupted by the front door opening again.
Looking over his shoulder, Hamilton saw his brother and Annis enter. They must have grown tired of waiting in the carriage on the chilly night. Had Annis been a part of this scheme, too? No, he decided instantly. As quickly as her face betrayed every emotion, Annis couldn’t have kept the plot hidden.
Philip’s gaze settled on Cole. A queer expression stole the gentleness from his face. Woodenly he greeted Elinor, who had returned from “escorting” Nerissa, and Sir Jerrold. He nodded to the terse words of Hamilton’s introduction of Nerissa’s brother. Annis started to chatter, but became silent when no one else answered.
When a bald-rib man came forward to take Philip’s hat, Hamilton saw his brother recoil. That told him all he needed to know. He struggled to control the rage boiling within him. Seeing Pilcher had stirred his suspicions, but Philip’s countenance when he saw the servant, who had tried to keep his face averted when he ushered Hamilton into the house, confirmed them. Philip’s depiction of Pilcher’s servant matched this skulking creature exactly.
He had been as much of a sammy as his father had been, although his betrayer had been a beautiful woman, who lit his soul when he held her soft form in his arms. Fury raged through him as he wondered how many other men Nerissa might have flirted with so sweetly … before she focused her cunning on him. She had been nearly as successful as her stepfather had been with Hamilton’s father. Even as she had been chiding him for not failing to trust her, she had been playing him for the jack.
When his brother gripped his arm, Hamilton aimed a scowl in Philip’s direction. This was not the time for a confrontation. First he must get a few answers from Nerissa. Then he would have his vengeance … finally.
Chapter Twenty
Frye opened the door to Nerissa’s sitting room and peeked around it like a frightened child. “Are you alone?”
Nerissa gave her abigail a watery smile. Wiping the tears from her face, she nodded. No one had come into her room, save Frye, since she had been banished there last night. “Of course.”
Opening the door wider, Frye stepped aside. Nerissa whispered Annis’s name as her friend raced across the room and flung her arms around her.
Trying to soothe Annis’s tears when she was still fighting her own, Nerissa whispered, “I am so happy to see you. Why did Cole let you in to see me? He despises you as much as he does Hamilton.”
Annis waited until Frye had pulled the drapes closed before she said, “I sneaked into the house.” Holding Nerissa’s cool hands in hers, she cried, “Oh, Nerissa, what has gone wrong?”
“Hush,” she murmured, glancing toward where Frye had gone to stand guard on the door to the hallway. “If someone was to hear—”
“I waited until I saw your brother and Mrs. Howe leave.”
“Cole learns things even when he is not in the house.” With a shiver, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Hadfield is eager to carry tales to him.”
“That is why I arranged with Frye to come in through the kitchen.”
Nerissa looked past Annis to her abigail and flashed her a smile of thanks. She should have known that Frye would not accept Cole’s cruel edicts without protest. “Do you know what was said between Cole and Hamilton last night? Cole will tell me nothing.”
“Philip tells me he shares Hamilton’s suspicion that your stepfather is the man they seek.”
“I share it as well. Cole learned yesterday that he has inherited thirty thousand pounds.”
“The amount stolen from their father!”
“I am sure only part of that money is from the late Lord Windham. Some is probably my mother’s. The rest must belong to Albert Pilcher’s other victims, for he seldom could hold onto money for very long. He enjoyed lavishing it on luxury for himself.”
“Now your brother will lavish it on Elinor Howe.”
Not caring about Cole and his bit of muslin, she whispered, “Cole sent Hamilton a message filled with plumpers, but I fear that Hamilton believes I wish nothing more to do with him.”
“Hamilton rails if your name is mentioned.” Annis’s large eyes filled with tears. “He is the pattern card of a man suffering from a broken heart. I am certain, as I have been of nothing else in my life, that he loves you dearly.”
“But he believes I would plot with Cole to betray him?”
“He has been betrayed once by a woman he dared to love.”
“I am not Elinor Howe!”
Annis smiled sadly. “I know that, and so would Hamilton if his pride was not so badly wounded. He considers himself a complete chucklehead for failing to listen to that Bow Street Runner he hired.”
“Why should he have guessed that my family was involved?” She grasped Annis’s hands. “If I had known of Mr. Pilcher’s connection to this matter, I would have told Hamilton immediately.”
“I know that, and so will Hamilton … eventually. Give him time, Nerissa. Philip and I have been trying to convince him to listen to us.”
She rose and rubbed her icy hands together. “I have no time to give him. Cole and Elinor have made plans for us to take the eastbound Mail tomorrow morning. They are eager to see what price they can obtain for me on the Marriage Mart.”
“But you love Hamilton!”
“Do you think that matters to them?”
Annis moaned, “Oh, this is even more horrible than I had thought. If you wish, I can take a note to Hamilton.”
Her laugh was sullied by sarcasm. “What is the use? He will not heed what I write when his mind has been so poisoned by Cole’s insinuations.”
“I must be able to do something. There must be some way you can convince Hamilton that you played no part in this.”
“There is only tonight. If Hamilton would call …”
“But he won’t. This is the night of Sir Delwyn’s weekly rout. You know he will go, if only to prove to the ‘Polite World’ that he is indifferent to the pain he is suffering.”
“Sir Delwyn’s rout?” Nerissa’s smile became genuine. She might be queer in her attic to be thinking such thoughts, but she had only tonight to coax Hamilton into listening to the truth.
“What is it?” asked Annis.
Nerissa stooped to whisper to Annis what she needed her bosom bow to do for her. She urged Annis to be careful. If they made a single mistake, Cole would not give her a second chance to try to regain her happiness.
“This is madness!” Frye repeated for the fifth time.
Nerissa looked up from where she was counting the money that Mrs. Carroll had picked up at the solicitor’s office less than two hours before. As Nerissa had hoped, Mr. Crimmins saw nothing amiss in the request from Cole’s housekeper. She shoved it into her reticule and glanced anxiously toward the door.
She leapt to her feet, holding the bag behind her, when the portal opened. She sighed with relief when the housekeeper ushered two cloaked figures into the room. Mrs. Carroll shut the door and exchanged a fearful frown with Frye.
Annis slipped off the hood of her ebony cloak and motioned for her companion to do the same. Her abigail, Horatia, nodded and untied the ribbons holding her bright red cape closed.
“It is raining, thank goodness,” Annis said with a soft laugh. “It was the best excuse to wear these heavy cloaks.”
Nerissa smiled her thanks to Horatia as the abigail handed her the red mantle. Annis’s abigail wore the same fearful expression as Frye. Throwing it around her, she said, “Now, Frye, you are to let no one in here—not even Cole.”
“Be careful, Miss Dufresne,” she beseeched.
“I shall.” Taking Annis’s hand, she slipped out into the upper hall with her friend and Mrs. Carroll.
She walked behind Annis as a proper abigail would, but wished her friend would hurry. At any moment, they might be discovered. She listened to Mrs. Carroll and Annis trying to prattle as if nothing was amiss. They scurried down the stairs. Nerissa followed, hunched into her cape,
“What are you doing here?” came Hadfield’s hateful voice.
Mrs. Carroll intruded to say, “Miss Ehrlich did not realize that Mr. Pilcher had insisted that his sister rest before their journey tomorrow.”
“Miss Dufresne has no interest in speaking with you.” Peeking out from beneath her hood, Nerissa saw the butler’s smile grow more sly. “In fact, Miss Ehrlich, she gave me a message to pass on to you.”
“Then do so.” The hauteur in Annis’s voice startled Nerissa, but she concealed her reaction beneath the bright red cloak.
“Miss Dufresne wishes me to tell you that she will not respond to any letters you might consider sending her in Town.”
Nerissa did not linger to see Hadfield’s astonishment at his apparent, easy victory turn into satisfaction. When the door slammed nearly on her heels, she hurried down the wet steps.
“He is even ruder than usual!” Annis muttered as they rushed along the walkway toward her carriage. “I hope the first thing you do when this succeeds is to dismiss that man.”
Drawing the cloak around her, Nerissa shivered. “If I succeed.”
Hamilton glowered at the other guests attending Sir Delwyn’s weekly gathering. None of them paused to speak to him as they hurried past, their eyes averted. No doubt, by this time, each one had been entertained by the poker-talk bolting through Bath. Only a shuttlehead would quiz a man about the fact he had been deceived by the mutual efforts of two former mistresses.
Dancing, their faces fixed in a perpetual expression of bliss, Philip and Annis had avoided him since their arrival. That pleased him, because he was annoyed by their continual attempts to persuade him that Nerissa Dufresne was not involved up to her pretty nose in her stepfamily’s conspiracies.
Blast it! She sneaked into his mind each time he let down his guard. He did not want to think about her soft mouth or the way she had felt so perfect in his arms. He had put Elinor Howe out of his life. He would do the same with Nerissa Dufresne.
Turning his back on the dance floor, Hamilton strode toward the stairs. The door to the room where card tables were filling up beckoned him to find a surcease for the agony in his heart. Sitting at an empty table, he picked up a pack of cards and began shuffling them. He nodded to Sir Delwyn, when his host came to sit with him, but his eyes widened in surprise as his brother sat at the table as well. He had thought Philip would spend the rest of the evening twirling Annis about the other room.
A slender shadow crept over his hands, and he looked up to see pretty, blue eyes that were dim with sorrow. His fingers tightened on the cards as he stared at Nerissa. Although she wore her blue dress that flattered her, her face was colorless. Watching the baronet leap to his feet, he remained sitting.