Charlotte cocked her head to the side. “Has Commissioner Franklin ever been in your home?”
The older woman shook her head.
“Don’t you find that rather strange? I mean, how would the commissioner know about the side door?”
Mrs. Pendleton gave her a scowl. “I think our conversation has ended.”
Charlotte nodded. “You have been most gracious, Mrs. Pendleton.”
It relieved Charlotte to know the other woman didn’t have her servants physically show Charlotte out. When she left the house, her hopes were lower than before. This time, Ian didn’t ask any questions when he helped her inside the carriage. She slumped back in the seat as he grabbed the reins and urged the horses forward.
He glanced at her with a frown on his disguised face. “Do you think we should go back home now?” he asked.
“I am rather tired.”
“Can you manage just one more house?”
She nodded and massaged the back of her neck.
When they drove up to the next place, and Charlotte was shown into the parlor by a servant, she knew immediately this was some man’s mistress. The gaudy red and gold carpets and drapes, and the naked statues in the parlor were dead giveaways. It made Charlotte wonder if Ian had ever been involved with Miss Jacqueline Fonteneau in the biblical sense.
Miss Fonteneau was a striking woman, and much younger than Charlotte had expected. The woman’s personality was as bouncy as the red ringlets framing her painted face. As Charlotte talked, she studied Miss Founteneau’s expression. The woman was completely at ease. When Charlotte mentioned Ian’s name, the woman gave no adverse reaction at all. All she wanted, she said, was to find out who had taken her jewelry. The expensive jewels had been gifts, but Miss Fonteneau didn’t mention who’d given them to her.
Charlotte repeated the same questions to Miss Fonteneau, but the woman acted as if she had trouble focusing on the topic. The hesitation drove Charlotte absolutely mad. She knew getting angry wouldn’t accomplish anything so she simply clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
“I was shocked when Jeffrey first suggested it might be Ian,” Miss Fonteneau told Charlotte. “Ian was so very friendly. He was also so very good, um, at his job, I mean.”
Charlotte tried to maintain a steady expression. What gave the gaudy woman the right to use Ian’s given name? Was this Miss Fonteneau’s way to let Charlotte know that she and Ian had been intimate?
Charlotte pasted on a fake smile. “I see…what else can you tell me?” She kept her voice steady.
“Of course, he came recommended very highly,” said Miss Fonteneau.
Annoyance and jealousy began to consume Charlotte. She took a deep breath for control, and then asked coldly, “Why did the commissioner suggest my husband, Miss Fonteneau?”
“Please, Mrs. Fielding, call me Jacqueline. Since your husband is a very good friend of mine, I feel as if we are friends also.”
Charlotte really didn’t want to, but she should discern a little more information before she exploded in rage. “So, Jacqueline, it was the commissioner who suggested my husband had stolen from you?”
“Yes. When Jeffrey first told me, I laughed. I couldn’t believe Ian would do something so underhanded.”
Charlotte wondered why the commissioner disliked Ian so much. And why did Jacqueline call the commissioner by his first name, almost as if she was on familiar terms with him? “Is there anything else you remember about your conversation with him?”
Jacqueline chewed lightly on her fingernail, before finally shaking her head. “No. Nothing more.”
“If you recall anymore, please let me know.” Charlotte stood. “I really believe my husband is innocent and I want to help him clear his name.”
“I’d really like to help. As I said before, your husband was a friend of mine, and he was so very good,” she purred, making Charlotte’s stomach twist in disgusting knots. “His secretary is also a funny, charming man,” Jacqueline added.
Confusion clouded Charlotte’s mind. “Do you mean Mr. Ewan Stout?”
“Yes. Ian and Ewan visited me here once a week. Not at the same time, of course.”
“I didn’t know Mr. Stout helped out my husband with his cases.”
“Oh, he usually doesn’t, but only in my situation,” Jacqueline paused, her smile widening.
Charlotte’s mind worked faster now. Everything made a little more sense, and because of that, she felt exhilarated again.
“I must go now. Thank you for your help, Jacqueline. Please let me know if you remember anything else.”
“I will. Please come back again. You’re a very sweet woman. I can see why Ian married you.”
Charlotte practically ran out to the carriage, almost knocking Ian over in the process. “Hurry. Let’s leave. I have a theory to try out on you. We’ll discuss it when we get home.”
* * * *
Ian waited patiently to continue the conversation with Charlotte, and when they finally reached the house, he told Charlotte he’d meet her in her room, just in case there were curious and deceitful eyes lurking about in the shadows around the house. Hurrying through the secret passageways of the old castle, he arrived in his room and quickly disposed of his disguise. After dressing in his own attire, he crept into Charlotte’s room.
Charlotte sat in her heavily cushioned chair beside the fire. Her lovely smile took away all the worry he’d been agonizing over these past few minutes. He sat in the chair next to her.
“Ian,” she began, “did you and Miss Fonteneau ever had intimate relations?”
It was as if a bucket of icy water dumped over his body, and he jumped out of his chair. After catching his breath, he realized what a mistake it was to take her to meet Jacqueline. He hesitated in his answer. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She sighed and gave him her pity look. “I think it has a lot to do with this case.”
Running his long fingers through his hair, he sighed. “Charlotte, this is very uncomfortable for me to talk about.”
“Ian.” She reached out and touched his arm. “It’s all right. If I hadn’t been so ashamed of being untouched, I might have been involved with a secret affair as well…considering that was Allison’s way of life. Besides, you and I were two different people back then. I’ll understand if you and Jacqueline were intimate.”
His heart softened from the gentle expression on her face. Kneeling beside her chair he took her hands in his. “I didn’t have an affair with her, although I had been tempted a few times. We were friends, and I wanted to keep our relationship on that level. She tried many times to seduce me, but I never gave in. I promise. Besides, she was another man’s mistress.”
Charlotte nodded. “I suspected her immoral lifestyle when I first walked into her home and met her. But it wasn’t until the very end of our conversation when I realized who pays for her way of life.”
“Did she tell you?”
“No, but she gave it away easy enough. Commissioner Franklin is the man warming her bed and paying her way.”
Shock entered Ian’s body again. “Are you jesting?”
“While we talked, she called you by your given name as if the two of you had been intimate. She also called the commissioner by his given name.” She paused for only a moment. “Did you know that your secretary, Mr. Stout, goes to see her as well?”
Ian lifted to his full height from the jolt of surprise. “Ewan? Was she...um, pleasuring him too?”
Charlotte laughed. “I’m almost certain of it.” He walked to his chair and sat. “So, why is this so important to my case?”
“I believe the commissioner somehow found out you were seeing her, and he and Mr. Stout concocted this scheme to set you up. Mr. Stout, being your secretary, has access to your files. He could have discovered Lady Stringham has a secret passageway in her house. He could have taken the Pendleton’s key. And the commissioner could have gotten the information about these clients from Mr. Stout.”
&
nbsp; She placed her hand on his knee. “Everyone told me the commissioner suggested your name as a suspect—that it wasn’t their idea.” She squeezed his knee. “Ian, the day he tried to force himself on me, he said, ’I’m going to hurt you just as much as your husband has hurt me.’ Doesn’t that sound like a threat?”
Ian rubbed his forehead as he pondered the startling information. Everything Charlotte said fit together, and to think that his wife figured all of this out by just talking to three people. She was better at solving mysteries than he thought. Suddenly, his love and respect for her grew to enormous proportions.
He rose, pulling her up with him, wrapping her in his arms. “All right, how do we prove it?”
She shrugged. “That’s something I haven’t figured out yet.” Her face took on a pensive look.
“So, the plan is to get the commissioner to confess.”
“No,” she corrected, “the plan is to find out if Mr. Stout is the commissioner’s scapegoat and see where he’s hidden the evidence.”
Ian’s insides were wrung out. This woman overwhelmed and surprised him, first with her extreme beauty and now with her supreme logic. What was she going to surprise him with next? “How are we going to do that?”
“I’m still working on it. I must get him to trust me somehow. That’s the only way. I know,” she added excitedly, “we can ask Lord Thatcher to help us.”
Jealousy hit Ian again, bringing a tightening pain to his chest. “No. I don’t want to bother him with our problems. Besides, he has helped us out enough by letting us stay here in his castle.”
“You’re correct,” she said sadly, dropping her gaze.
“Charlotte, if I arrange it with Lord Thatcher, would you dine with me tonight, in my room? We’ll dismiss the staff and have a quiet evening, just the two of us.”
* * * *
Charlotte stared at her husband as he waited for her response, and despite his closed expression, she sensed his vulnerability. She knew what was on his mind. She stifled the smile that attempted to lift her lips. They’d been through this so many times before. The question was did she, in spite of everything, still want him to seduce her? Lately, it had been so hard to choose between him and Adam. If Ian had stayed the same selfish, coldhearted man she’d married, she’d have had no problem deciding between the two men. But Ian had changed over the past weeks.
Every day she was with him, he acted different, growing on her in a very comfortable way, actually becoming the man she’d always wanted. She was attracted to both Adam and Ian, but for completely different reasons. Although she was beginning to like Ian more, she didn’t dislike Adam any less and the admission was dredged from a place between logic and reason.
But, the fact remained Ian was her husband. Eventually, she’d have to give in to his lusty desires—and her own. She’d promised him that she would act like his wife for an entire month, and she hadn’t really done it. The pain he’d caused her still hung in her heart like a heavy fog. But thankfully, his kindness had softened her soul more than she’d realized.
“Dinner would be nice,” she answered softly.
Ian kissed her forehead then backed away. “Why don’t you rest now? I’ll go ask Lord Thatcher if he’ll make us a special dinner.”
Nodding, she moved to her bed and sat on the edge. “Then I shall see you tonight.”
“I miss you already.” He winked then turned and left through the secret spot on her wall.
Chapter Thirteen
Charlotte awoke from her nap, yawning and stretching. She quickly rang for her maid. Excitement bubbled inside her now, and the unexpected feeling made her giddy like a schoolgirl. She was actually looking forward to seeing Ian again—and hoping he’d continue with his seduction.
For tonight’s dinner, she picked out one of her more sensual gowns. A velvet green sensation with black lace decorating the low neckline and off-the shoulder sleeves. Perfect for her mood, teasing, yet not overly so.
Leaving her hair down, she slipped a diamond studded band along her forehead to keep the long mass off her face. She rubbed her favorite aroma on her wrists and neck, and then dabbed a little shine to her lips before leaving the room.
In hopes of finding Ian, she wandered to the kitchen, but once she entered, the startling realization hit her. Subconsciously, she’d been seeking Adam. The moment she spotted him slaving over the hot stove, her heart picked up rhythm. She cleared her throat. Adam looked up at her and smiled.
“Good evening.” Adam’s deep, scratchy voice sent sensual tingles down her spine, just as it had always done.
“Good evening.” She moved toward the stove. “I thought I would see if you needed any help with dinner.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You would like to help me?”
“Yes. If you don’t mind and if I’ll not be in the way.”
“Charlotte, you are never in my way. Come.” She liked the way his dark gaze swept over her dress. His eyes were browner tonight and she wondered if it was because his face was caked with sweat due to the hot stove. But it just wasn’t the color of his orbs that set her heart pounding, it was the way his gaze moved over her with so much emotion. She listened to Adam explain what he was making. He showed her the fancy ways the kitchen servants prepared them, and Charlotte was surprised to see how easy he made it seem.
“Strange, but I never once thought about what the kitchen staff goes through every time they prepare a meal. Now I’ll be more patient with them when an entrée is late.”
Adam watched her in silence for a few more minutes. “So, I suppose your absentee husband is coming around to scratch. I bet he has a perfect seduction planned for you tonight.”
She lowered her eyes. “I wouldn’t know.”
“How is the fugitive anyway?”
She snapped her attention to him. “Adam, he is not a fugitive.”
“What else would you call him? He’s on the run from the law. That makes him an outlaw.”
She frowned. “But Adam, he’s innocent.”
“Do you know for certain?”
She hesitated before answering. “I feel he’s not guilty. Besides, I think we have figured out who’s setting him up. Now we just need to trap the real thief and make him show Ian where he has hidden the stolen items.”
“Who do you suspect?”
Before she could reply, O’Toole stepped into the kitchen. “Excuse me, Mistress, but Mr. Fielding is wondering where you are. Shall I tell him you’re with Lord Thatcher?”
“Is he in his room?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell him I’ll be there shortly.”
O’Toole nodded then left.
Adam looked down at her, his smile gone. “Don’t let me keep you any longer.”
The pain was evident in Adam’s frown and his sad eyes. She didn’t want him to know that she was going to allow Ian’s seduction. But at this point, she still wasn’t too certain about her decision.
She laid her hand on his arm. “Adam, I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Ian.”
He nodded. “Have an enjoyable time with your husband, my dear.”
She dearly wanted to fling her arms around him and kiss his lips, but held back. “Good night, Adam, and I will see you tomorrow.” Her pulsing blood warned her not to stand too close.
Charlotte remained still for a few minutes, waiting for him to do something, say something, but he didn’t, so she turned and left.
* * * *
The room flickered in the light from a dozen candles, and Ian’s spicy scent surrounded Charlotte as she stepped into his chambers. The lace-covered table was set for two with crystal goblets, china and utensils. O’Toole nodded a greeting to Charlotte then busied himself, finishing the last minute touches by lighting the two candles on the table.
She glanced around the room searching for her husband. “O’Toole? Where’s Mr. Fielding?”
“The master left for a moment. Said he had a surprise for you. He’ll be h
ere shortly.”
“I see,” she said.
“Will you have some sherry, Mistress?”
“No, thank you.”
“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish helping Lord Thatcher in the kitchen.” He bowed and left the room.
She pushed aside one of the curtains. The silver moon cast tiny trails of light onto the floor. A little further, she opened the window and raised her head, sniffing the cool breeze. Fresh cut grass tickled her nose, and she smiled. Ian’s servants had been working hard on Adam’s grounds, and it thrilled her to think they’d be so generous.
A faint light caught her eye, and then disappeared. The fine hairs of her neck snapped to attention. Someone was below, looking up...watching her.
She stepped away from the window. Who was spying on her? But more importantly, why? When she looked back, the dark figure was gone. The longer she waited for Ian, the more anxious she became. She shivered with anticipation and closed the window.
Charlotte paced the room as her mind drifted through the events of the day. They’d accomplished a lot, but still, things were up in the air. When she thought about his disguise this afternoon, she grinned. He’d acted just like a servant. Yet when they were alone in the carriage, he was as attentive as she’d wanted. His casual touches, the tender concern in his voice melted her heart. Gradually, he was turning into the husband she’d always wanted.
The same kind Adam might make. Groaning, she knew she must make a decision. Ian or Adam. But she realized her body had already chosen Ian. Each time he tried to seduce her, it became harder and harder to refuse his advances.
“You are breathtakingly beautiful tonight,” Ian whispered from behind her, disturbing her thoughts.
She swung around and faced him, surprised she hadn’t heard him enter the room. She drew her brows together when realizing she’d been facing the door waiting for him.
“How did you get in here? You couldn’t have come through the door because I’ve been standing right here.”
He chuckled. “Remember when I’d mentioned the hidden passageways in the castle?”
She nodded.
Belong To Me (book 4) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) Page 18