The Luck of the Bride--The Cavensham Heiresses

by Janna MacGregor

  “Are you suggesting William or a member of my staff is stealing from me?” The fire hissed as if it found his question unbelievable.

  Such an incredulous thought made his insides twist in a knot that he doubted would ever untangle. These people had been with him, if not for all, then for the majority of his life. The staff at McCalpin House had served him and his uncle faithfully for years. William’s dishonesty was not something worth considering.

  “Of course not,” she answered with assurance, then wrinkled her nose in the adorable way that always reminded him of how they first met in his study.

  “Wouldn’t the annual audit find the discrepancies?”

  “I can’t answer that as I don’t know how your staff manages such a task,” she answered. “I could certainly ask William what he suggests.”

  “Excellent idea.” He nodded in agreement and tugged her tighter to him.

  With a yawn, she didn’t resist and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “We’ll finish our discussion tomorrow. Let’s go to bed,” he whispered. He took the book from her hands and placed it on the sofa.

  She stood. Together hand in hand, they made their way back to his bedchamber where he made love to her again. In the dawn, he lay with her warm lush body nestled next to his. He realized he’d never have enough of her in his days, his nights, his bed, and most importantly, his life.

  Luck had a strange way of turning an obstacle into good fortune. Who would have thought that his beautiful embezzler would be such a wonderful ally and a strong partner for him? Someday he’d thank her for forging his signature.

  Chapter Twenty

  In record time, the coach made it back to London. As soon as Michael saw her safely inside, he returned to McCalpin House. They’d agreed that tonight they’d share their plans to marry first with his parents, then with her siblings. Afterward, they’d privately discuss their findings in the account books with William. March headed for the upstairs living quarters. No doubt, her sisters and brother were beside themselves with worry.

  As soon as she walked into her bedroom, all three siblings descended.

  “March! Thank heavens you’re home.” Julia rushed into her arms.

  March squeezed in return and kissed her sister on her cheek.

  Faith was the next to join in the hug, followed by Bennett. All four clutching one another as if the missing pieces of their hearts were once again reunited.

  March was the first to break away. “Come and sit on the bed with me. I have much to tell.”

  All her siblings were solemn as they joined her on the massive bed. She said a quick prayer that she’d get through the story without falling apart.

  “I met with the vicar in Chelmsford.” She glanced at her sibling’s dear faces. The pain and worry presented itself so differently on each precious face. Julia’s eyes told of her torment, while Faith appeared ready to cry out in pain, her mouth pinched. However, it was Bennett’s face that almost brought her to her knees. Stoic and proud, he fought to keep the glistening tears from trailing down his face.

  She loved them and wanted to make this right so they didn’t suffer her humiliation. They did nothing wrong and shouldn’t have to pay for her new circumstance in life.

  She forced herself to continue. “What Rupert said was true. I saw the register with my own eyes.”

  “Oh, March,” Faith whispered.

  Julia’s hand flew to her lips as if to keep her shock inside. Bennett turned away and discreetly brushed his fingers under his eye. That small movement burned through her chest like hot iron. Her own tears started to gather, but she drew in a deep breath and held it until she could finish.

  “What shall we do?” Julia whispered.

  Indeed, that thought had consumed her on the way back from McCalpin Manor. She wouldn’t tell her siblings about marrying until she and Michael could tell them together.

  “I think it best if you and Faith continue to have Lord McCalpin escort you to social events. The duke and duchess will ensure that your reputations are protected.” She turned to Bennett who had learned quickly how to master his emotions. “You should stay and continue your studies with Mr. Tatum. I’m very happy with the progress you’ve made in all your subjects. I think it best that for the time being I return to Lawson Court.”

  Bennett vehemently shook his head. “Not without me, you aren’t.”

  The defiance in his words was something she hadn’t expected. “Bennett—”

  “No, March. I’m head of the family. You’re my sister. I’ll not allow you to go back there alone.” His emerald eyes flashed in warning.

  Bennett stood before her almost unrecognizable. A boy, but a boy whose behavior over the short time he’d stayed at Langham Hall hinted at the man he would become. His staunch proclamation he would protect her caused a slew of errant tears to make an unwanted appearance again. Her baby brother, the one she raised from infancy, would soon be an adult. It had to be Michael and his family’s influence. The unguarded love and affection they showered on her and her siblings were nothing short of a miracle.

  “Bennett, perhaps you and I should talk with Lord McCalpin. Would you be agreeable to that?” Their father would be so proud if he could see his son today.

  “Agreed,” Bennett said.

  She released the pent-up breath and turned to her sisters. “So, tell me what’s occurred since I’ve gone.”

  Faith and Julia stole furtive glances at each other. Julia swiftly scooted off the bed. “Nothing. Lord Queensgrace hasn’t sent word. If I see him at an event, I’ll cut him if he doesn’t cut me first.”

  Faith stood and put her arm around Julia’s waist and drew her close. “Darling, don’t make any rash judgments. Give him a chance.”

  Julia whirled swiftly and escaped Faith’s arms. “Will you give Dr. Kennett the same courtesy?”

  Faith shook her head. “I haven’t heard from him either, so I take your point.” With an uneasy sigh, she turned to March. “The duchess is taking us shopping at Grigby’s in an hour. Then tonight, we’re to attend Lord Sinclair’s soiree musicale. Will you come with us?”

  “No, I’ll spend the day at Lawson Court, then come back this evening for dinner.”

  Both Faith and Julia tried to argue and change her mind, but much to March’s relief, they easily capitulated to her decision. Neither sister could afford another mark on their reputation if they wanted to make successful matches. If March were present, a scandal would erupt. No doubt, she was still the favorite topic of gossip for The Midnight Cryer. It made little difference whether the powerful Duchess of Langham was by her side or not.

  “Bennett has a history lesson with Mr. Tatum soon. Julia and I should get ready for our outing with the duchess.” Faith reached over and kissed March on the cheek. “We’re so happy you’re home.”

  Julia kissed March’s other cheek, and Bennett took her hand and bent over it like a perfect gentleman.

  At the click of the door, the terror of the unknown from last night rose in a wave. What if she was always a pariah? Truly, what if she was always a constant embarrassment to her family and to Michael and his family? Her gaze skimmed the opulent gowns that the duchess had generously provided for the balls. Silks, satins, and lace would never hide her true self.

  She was a sheep farmer, and a bastard one at that. March bit her lip and stared out the window. She quickly changed her gown and slippers for one of her old muslin frocks and sturdy half boots she wore when tending sheep. She’d spend the rest of the day at Lawson Court working.

  Perhaps she’d find some peace there, or if she was lucky, a little piece of her old self, the one she’d lost two days ago.

  * * *

  Being in London for the past weeks had turned March into someone she didn’t recognize. She loathed admitting it to anyone else, but the pampering she experienced at Langham Hall had turned her tender. After a full afternoon of cleaning the sheep pens and the barn, and walking the fields of Lawson Court, the
wind had burned her cheeks and her legs ached from all the walking. Her arms and hands throbbed in protest from all the physical work required to muck the barn and the sheep enclosures.

  There’d been little else to do as Michael had sent Mr. Severin, his land steward, to oversee the estate’s operation. Like a tightly wound precision timepiece, the farm didn’t need her help anymore. Mr. Severin had hired staff to perform the daily work. Walking through the fields had allowed her time to gather all the emotions that she’d stuffed inside her heart and mind. It had taken hours, but she managed to make some sense of the chaotic events of her life since she’d arrived in London. When she’d made love to Michael last night, she’d found a comfort she hadn’t experienced since her parents’ death. To lie in his arms had made her feel that she had a place in the world. That someone actually admired and held her dear.

  This had nothing to do with her family loving her, but everything to do with being perceived as a woman and revered. Michael saw her grief and struggles, then helped her because she meant something to him.

  She’d not waste this opportunity. She’d seen too many women in her small town of Leyton live their entire lives alone without ever experiencing what she’d had last night. A man, who with infinite care and grace, had made love to her as if she was his greatest treasure to protect and nurture. She’d put everything behind her and concentrate on Michael and their upcoming marriage.

  March took one final look at the rolling fields of her youth and remembered her parents. They’d be pleased with not only Bennett, but with the fine women Julia and Faith were today. Indeed, they’d be pleased with her choice of husband. There was no use wondering if they’d be pleased with her. They’d be ecstatic to discover their embezzling bastard had even found happiness and true love.

  A kernel of unease flared deep inside. She had every right to be angry with her parents. She could easily let such feeling ferment and grow, but she extinguished such thoughts. She couldn’t change the past—only protect her and her family’s future.

  Perhaps Michael didn’t love her now, but she’d make it her life’s work to show him what he meant to her. If she were lucky, maybe someday, he’d love her in return.

  Whatever fate had in store for her, she wasn’t afraid of it.

  Not anymore.

  She walked into Lawson Court to say good-bye to Mrs. Oliver. When the housekeeper wasn’t in the kitchen, March ventured toward the dining room. She passed the study, then stopped. She’d never delivered Michael’s fraudulent seal, the one she’d had made to secure funds from her family’s trust. She opened the desk drawer, then opened the others in rapid succession.

  There was nothing—no sheets of velum, no sealing wax, no extra quills or ink. Just empty drawers.

  However, most horrifying of all, Michael’s seal was gone.

  “Are you missing something?”

  Her lips curled at the taunt. Immediately, she knew who stole the items without looking up from the desk. She should have come home sooner after Hart told her that Mrs. Devin had caught Rupert in the study.

  She lifted her gaze to his and narrowed her eyes. “Come to see if you left anything?” She’d not let a bully come into her home after the havoc he’d created for her and her sisters.

  “Actually, no. I saw you roaming the fields and thought I’d make certain you don’t steal anything else that doesn’t belong to you.” Rupert sniffed then scrunched up his nose. “You smell as if you’ve slept with those wooly fur balls.”

  “What did you do with my things? The ones you stole?” Remarkably, she kept her tone even and calm. Inside was another story. She was seething. Once she found out some answers to her questions, she’d throw the bastard out of her home and out of her life.

  “Where they belong. I gave everything to the Marquess of McCalpin.” His nose rose another inch as if the air were more rarified in his area of the study. “His solicitor offered to pay me if I retrieved the items you were using to steal from my family and the marquess.”

  “What solicitor?” She didn’t bother to hide the curtness in her tone. Michael hadn’t mentioned a peep about sending a solicitor to the estate. Something that important, he’d have discussed with her. Rupert was lying.

  He waved a hand in the air as if tired of her questions. “Someone from Russell & Sons. I don’t recall their name. They paid me a finder’s fee, which I was happy to collect. Made up for the aggravation of smelling sheep manure.” He whipped out a handkerchief and held it to his nose. “What you’ve done to this family is disgraceful!”

  She ignored his theatrics. “Tell me his name, Rupert.”

  “Jameson.” His unchecked vehemence caused a downpour of spittle showers. Luckily, their distance apart kept her from a soaking. “Mr. Jameson. He’s the one who informed me you stole from the family’s trusts.”

  Even she had her limits. “Leave, Rupert. This is still my home, and I say who’s welcome and who’s not. You’re on the not list.”

  “It’ll soon be my home. Mr. Jameson said they’re going to have you arrested for impersonating a noble and stealing charges. Once you’re on your way to Australia or Timbuktu, I’m seeking Julia’s hand.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait.” She ran forward to stop him.

  He turned and lifted a haughty brow. “I don’t answer to you as you’re no longer part of this family. I will be the man in charge once I get the marquess’s permission to marry Julia.”

  She schooled her features and clasped her hands in front of her. “How did you know to go to Chelmsford?”

  With a smirk, he regarded her as if she were a pile of manure. “Mr. Jameson. He told me he had good information that your parents were married there years after your birth. He needed me as a member of the family to come forward. And I was only too happy to help,” he sneered.

  This morning on their way back to London, she’d told Michael what the Chelmsford vicar had shared about Rupert and a Marquess of McCalpin representative visiting and examining the marriage registry. Michael had been adamant that he hadn’t sent anyone to the church.

  “Of course, when I discovered the truth, I couldn’t let your deception continue.” With a final smug smile, he turned and left her alone.

  Her heart started to pound and a trickle of sweat slowly slid down her back. Someone was out to destroy her.

  * * *

  A lighthearted smile pulled at McCalpin’s lips as he walked up the steps of Langham Hall. He’d chosen well. March would be an excellent partner as they traversed through all of life’s joys and perils. Miraculously, confiding his secret, that black mark he carried with him every hour, lightened his burden. It only reaffirmed his decision.

  Last night when she’d come to him, she’d been frantic for comfort. Holding her in his arms and making love to her had been perfect. He’d never let her suffer the taunts or the ridicule that society loved to bestow on people, women in particular, who found themselves lambs at the slaughter.

  He’d protected himself for so long, it was second nature to protect her.

  William approached with a deliberate step and a stern countenance. His brother could be a menacing sight when riled. “McCalpin, I need you to come to the study. There are some disturbing things that demand your attention at once.”

  McCalpin followed William into their father’s study and closed the door. At the burl maple table in the center of the room sat their sister, Emma, with her husband, Somerton, who handled McCalpin’s personal investments.

  Unease pushed aside all of his good humor when he saw the look of fury on his sister’s face. Her straight shoulders and the haughty tilt of her head foretold something truly serious was afoot. The fact that his solicitor Russell and the bookkeeper, Jameson, were present didn’t help matters.

  He sat at the head of the table, and William took the seat to the right of him. The tension in the room was palatable. Somerton clenched a document in his fist.

  “Did someone die?” A stony silence met McCalpin’s attempt at
humor.

  William took a deep breath, picked up a document, then set it before him. “This is a letter sent to Mr. Rupert Lawson from you demanding he stay off Lord Lawson’s property during the annual Leyton hunt. Note that the date is after the first time you met with March.”

  His brother had his attention now. He’d never sent any correspondence to March’s poor excuse of a cousin. “Go on,” he demanded.

  William placed another document in front of him. “This is a directive from you to have three thousand pounds withdrawn from McCalpin Manor’s household account and deposited directly into an account under March’s name at Fleming’s Bank. It was delivered to Emma’s bank by mistake.”

  His heart pounded with a force strong enough to break through his ribs—and lay the carnage before everyone in the room. He examined the document. Perfectly centered on the bottom of the page was March’s signature of his name.

  Somerton cleared his throat, then slid another document to him. “This is a request from you to withdraw twenty-five thousand pounds from your investments and deposit it into March’s account also.”

  The regret on his brother-in-law’s face pierced him like a stab of a stiletto. McCalpin held his body taut as the pain coursed through every inch of his body. This was worse than a stab—a more apt description was a gutting. He wouldn’t believe she’d betray him—not like that. If true, then his carefully crafted persona of an intelligent lord who handled his estate matters with aplomb would crash to the ground.

  “I didn’t proceed with the transaction.” The empathy in Somerton’s voice was unmistakable. “I told Emma of it last night. That’s why we’re here.”

  Emma’s cheeks were crimson. “I don’t believe any of this. I know this woman. She wouldn’t steal. She corrected discrepancies in my own books.”

  William pursed his lips. “Could that have been a ploy to gain your allegiance so these transactions wouldn’t be questioned?”

  Emma snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not, Emma,” William answered. “But I’m also not blind.” He turned to McCalpin and lowered his voice. “There’s more.”