A Woman of True Honor (True Gentlemen Book 8)

by Grace Burrowes

  “I was, but you and your stubborn determination to see me well prevailed. By then, all I could do was wait here to see if Adam had in fact violated his parole. The London rumors made decamping to the country a reasonable choice, and this place came up for sale.”

  “You owe Adam an apology, Papa,” Emily said. “You owe me an apology, but the worse harm was done to my brother.” Briggs owed Adam much more than an apology, though Emily refrained from pointing out the obvious.

  Valerian chose a lemon tea cake. “Perhaps Adam ought to share his thoughts with us.”

  “I can forgive my father,” Adam said, still standing like a sentry before the door. “He believed himself to be protecting Emily, as I believed myself to be. I am less charitably disposed toward Miss Briggs, who not only condemned me to the ignominy of transportation as a felon, but interfered with Emily’s future as well.”

  Emily regarded her former companion, whom she’d once thought a formidable ally. “I leave the matter in your hands, Adam. My future could not be more promising, while yours will always carry the shadow of a wrongful conviction.”

  Papa had taken to examining his pocket watch, a plain gold article Emily’s mother had given him. “Of course, I am sorry for having mistrusted my son. I am sorry for having believed the worst of you, too, Emily, but I’m not sure, given what I knew at the time, that I’d handle the matter any differently if allowed the chance.”

  “You might have told me of your misgivings,” Adam said. “Might have written to me.”

  “I considered a good case of rage against your papa might help you endure the tribulations of a colonial life. Emily kept you informed of our situation, and I did not want you tempted to return prematurely, though here you are.”

  Adam ambled to the window and stood half in profile to Emily. “All these years, I thought I might one day hear my sister apologize for her crime and thank me for my sacrifice. That was all the reparation I sought—an acknowledgment of the harm she’d done me, an expression of remorse. Now I find Emily has also been sinned against. Perhaps the king’s man has some idea how we’re to go on, for I am at a loss when I cannot legally remain here in England.”

  Adam turned to regard Valerian, who lounged at his ease across the low table from Emily. “Mr. Dorning, you’re the magistrate, and a criminal sits among us unpunished. What say you?”

  Emily was glad Adam hadn’t asked for her opinion, for Briggs had been both confidante and betrayer, both friend of a sort and felon.

  “I’d like to hear your perspective too,” Emily said. “Like Adam, I am torn by conflicting emotions, most of them unpleasant.”

  Though, amid all the chaos in her heart, one truth stood clear: Valerian would sort the situation out if anybody could, and then Emily would marry him, and by God, nobody would disturb their peace ever again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nothing Valerian had read in his brother’s law books, nothing he’d encountered settling family or neighborhood squabbles, prepared him for the situation Veronica Briggs had wrought on the Pepper family.

  The wronged parties were Adam, Emily, and Osgood, though none of them was willing to suggest a sentence for the wrongdoer.

  “Miss Briggs,” Valerian said, “have you any apologies to offer?”

  Briggs glowered at him, which was to be expected. She was cornered, possibly facing a noose, and without allies.

  “I am not sorry I tried to steal that money,” she said. “My brother died in that stinking sewer of a prison, died miserable and alone because he trusted wealthy customers to pay their bills on time. His trust was repaid with suffering, death, and injustice. Any sister would have done the same.”

  “No,” Valerian said, “she would not. Another sister might have asked Osgood Pepper for a loan, might have enlisted Pepper’s aid to see those wealthy customers held accountable, might have admitted her wrongdoing before an innocent man was transported for it. Adam Pepper has spent five years as a convict, thousands of miles from what little family he has. Emily’s social standing has been undermined by your meddling, and who knows, but Osgood’s health was nearly ruined by worry over his children’s well-being. You chose to commit a crime. You chose to lie about it.”

  That needed to be said. Aristocrats who failed to pay their bills were a sad fact of mercantile life, and if the debtor was titled, he could not be jailed for his cheating. That problem—and Valerian very much saw it as a problem—wouldn’t be solved by letting Briggs get off with a scolding.

  “I was desperate,” Briggs said, her voice low. “I was new to my position. I had no hope Osgood would make me a loan that would have taken me years to pay back. For all I know, he would have turned me off on the spot, and then I’d be in worse circumstances than my brother.”

  “I would never—” Osgood began.

  Emily held up a hand. “Hush, Papa. You turned off two companions in the space of a month before Briggs joined the household. I’m sure the hiring agency let her know that.”

  Valerian was not particularly interested in arguments that mitigated Briggs’s guilt. “Are you sorry for any part of this situation?” he asked.

  She gazed around the room like Boudica surveying the smoldering ruins of Roman Londinium. If she felt any remorse, that sentiment was nowhere evident in her expression.

  “I am sorry I am poor,” she said. “Sorry Emily was willing to settle for a younger son with little more than a farm to his name. I’m sorry Adam was too witless to stay where he belonged in Australia. I am sorry for much.”

  But she was not sorry for her victims, at least not that she’d admit, and that made Valerian’s decision easier.

  “You belong in Australia,” he said. “I can charge you with forgery. I suspect Osgood would testify against you, and Caleb and Tobias would support his version of events by further recounting how you threw suspicion on both Adam and Emily. The charges alone would mean you will never find decent work again in Britain, and they would be valid charges. The quarter sessions aren’t scheduled to start for weeks, and in the intervening time, you’d enjoy the hospitality of the local posting inn—unless Osgood is willing to maintain you under house arrest here.”

  Briggs’s mouth closed with a snap. “You would not dare arrest me after all this time.”

  “I would dare. Your behavior offends the law, decency, and conscience. To allow you to lark about, wrapped in injured dignity and righteous ire, would be to offend common sense as well. You have committed multiple crimes and paid no price.”

  “Dorning,” Osgood said, “is this really necessary?”

  “No,” Valerian said, sitting back. “If Briggs gives me her word that she’ll put herself on a ship bound for Botany Bay and remain there for at least seven years, I’ll consider the matter adequately addressed. I suspect Mr. Granger and Mr. Booth would willingly accompany her to the Antipodes.”

  Caleb glanced up sharply at Osgood. Tobias, interestingly, looked immediately to Caleb.

  “New South Wales?” Caleb said. “You want us to escort Briggs to Australia?”

  Emily’s expression was arrested, while Caleb looked curious.

  “I don’t trust Briggs to keep her word and leave the country,” Valerian said. “If she’ll take Osgood’s money while consigning his son to transportation and his daughter to disgraced spinsterhood, she bears supervision.”

  Tobias scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Australia? You expect me to travel halfway around the world, for what?”

  Caleb took the seat Adam had vacated. “For adventure? For opportunity? Adam appears to have prospered, and he’s a convict.”

  “He prospered,” Tobias retorted, “because Osgood smoothed his way.”

  Adam crossed his arms. “I did well because I was lucky and worked hard. Papa could bribe half the governors in Australia, and that would not have made me wealthy.”

  Tobias peered at him. “You’re wealthy?”

  Osgood was looking at Adam as well. “Well?”

  “Austra
lia wants for everything,” Adam said, “from vineyard grapes to sturdy livestock, to looms, mills, agricultural implements. Anything human society needs can probably find a buyer in the older settlements.”

  “Have they mulberry trees?” Osgood asked.

  Adam nodded. “Macarthur planted some at his property at Parramatta. Nearly twenty years on, they appear to be thriving.”

  Valerian rose. “This is all very interesting, but I’ve yet to hear from Miss Briggs. Madam, will you accept an informal banishment, or must I bring charges?”

  “Don’t be a fool, Briggs,” Emily said, rising as well. “You have left a trail of misery and could do with a fresh start. I hear there aren’t many women in Australia. Papa might offer you some severance if you can swallow your pride long enough to ask. Adam doubtless has a few words to say to you.”

  Oh, precisely. Valerian was willing to bet his saddle that Adam and Briggs would come to terms no magistrate wanted to be privy to. Important terms that allowed each of them to look forward and put the past behind them.

  Osgood snapped his timepiece shut, and Emily speared him with a look. “Papa, have you something to say?”

  “Adam, Briggs, and I will discuss terms.”

  “Briggs?” Valerian prompted. “What’s it to be? The assizes or a new start?”

  Briggs looked bilious, while Caleb and Tobias were exchanging whispers at a furious rate.

  “I’ll go,” she said. “I’ll go, and good riddance to England.”

  And good riddance to you. “Emily,” Valerian said, extending his hand, “might you favor me with a turn in the garden?”

  He wanted to leave Osgood, Adam, and Briggs to work out details of their arrangements in private. More to the point, he wanted to be alone with Emily, wanted to hear all the words she’d bit back in the midst of this difficult and taxing exchange.

  “Try smashing the teapot, Briggs,” Emily said as she took Valerian’s hand. “Works a treat for improving a lady’s mood. Mr. Dorning, some fresh air sounds lovely.”

  “You two,” Adam said, causing Tobias and Caleb to cease their whispered quarrel and regard him owlishly. “Take yourselves off, and do not think of decamping for London until Papa and I have settled matters with you.”

  Papa’s brows rose, but he for once held his tongue as Caleb and Tobias scuttled out the door. Miss Briggs sat in her wing chair, silently fuming like a deposed queen.

  “I have to wonder,” Adam said, “if the hard labor I did in Australia, and the tribulations I bore before the governor took notice of me, were anywhere near as difficult as the years Emily spent with you as her companion.”

  “I did my duty by her,” Briggs said. “She will manage splendidly. Mr. Dorning dotes on her, and she on him. Those prancing ninnies in Town weren’t worth her notice.”

  Adam had met many of Briggs’s ilk in the penal colonies. They had, most of them, committed flat-out crimes, but in their exalted opinions, no wrongdoing merited banishment from Merry Olde. The criminal thus viewed himself not as the recipient of royal mercy, but rather, as the victim of a heinous injustice.

  Anger sustained a beleaguered soul. It also trapped that soul. The smart convicts—the majority of them—learned that and made the best of their fate, as Adam had. Briggs did not have the look of a smart convict about her—yet.

  “You made Emily’s life harder,” Adam said, “and mine and Papa’s as well. Here’s what I want from you, and I suspect Dorning well knew what I’d demand: You will write out a full confession, witnessed by two of the upper house servants here who have no vested interest in this whole mess. You will make a copy for me, one for Papa, and one for use as we see fit. We will agree to do nothing with those confessions until you’ve arrived in Australia. Take up a new identity there—it’s easy enough to do—and the law won’t find you when I petition for a full pardon.”

  “And if I am not inclined to stick my neck in a noose?” Briggs retorted. “As it happens, the money never went missing. The money was recovered from you, not me.”

  “But the forgery,” Papa said quietly, “was yours, Veronica, and forgery is a capital offense. You stole five years, from Adam, from me, and from Emily. Five years we could have been a family. You lost your brother to his own intemperance and foolishness. You nearly cost me my son and cost Emily her only sibling, when all I’ve done is offer you employment at generous wages.”

  Briggs surged out of her chair. “You pitied me. I never wanted your pity, you idiot man. You needed somebody to look after you so you didn’t work yourself to death, but your regard for me was that of a superior for a subordinate. ‘Look after Emily,’ you told me, as if that woman needs anybody to tell her what to do. I watched you sicken and nearly die, and all you had to say to me was, ‘Look after Emily.’ Well, now Emily has found a husband, and you are left with nobody to fret and fuss over you. I wish you the joy of your lonely old age.”

  Adam would have offered a sharp rebuke, but two tears trickled down Briggs’s cheeks. A woman not even scorned—merely pitied—was entitled to a tirade.

  “I never misled you,” Papa said, passing her a plain white handkerchief. “When I began to suspect the enormity of what you’d done, I kept my own counsel rather than involve the authorities. You were a woman alone, grieving for your brother, and there was no undoing your mischief. My choices were rage or pity. Be glad you got the pity from me, for very few do. You will write those confessions, and then we’ll discuss other terms that might make your view of me less severe.”

  Before Briggs could descend into outright weeping, Adam opened the door. “I’m sure you’ll find the library a commodious place to put your thoughts on paper.” A house this size had a library, and that library would have paper, pen, ink, and sand.

  Adam waited until after Briggs had marched away before raising the next question. “Papa, when you mention other terms, you’re not considering—?” Briggs as a step-mother was unthinkable.

  “Of course not. Your mother was the only woman for me, as I told Briggs when she first attempted to alter the nature of our relationship.”

  Ye gods, Papa felt guilty for having rebuffed the woman who’d stolen from him. “I don’t know whether to be more impressed with Briggs’s audacity—attempting to court the favor of one of her victims—or your unwillingness to see her charged.”

  “She loved her brother, as Emily loves you. I ought to have given Veronica that damned money unasked, though Jemmy Briggs would simply have drunk himself to death before the consumption finished him off. He was a lazy, charming, drunken schemer, and she couldn’t see that.”

  “A tangled web?”

  Osgood fingered the gold chain affixed to his pocket watch. “Old business, which I hope to put behind us. Might you track down Caleb and Tobias before they come to blows? They lack your business instincts, lack your ingenuity at the bargaining table, but they certainly have a full complement of ambition. A few years adventuring in the colonies will do them good and go some way toward restoring my peace.”

  The compliments were inordinately heartwarming. Papa might never apologize for having shielded Briggs from guilt, never apologize for having suspected his own children, but in a small way, he’d admitted to regrets.

  “I need to leave England,” Adam said. “Nothing can change that.”

  “You won’t need to stay away for long. Your dear sister is marrying into a titled family. That family is connected to a fellow named Kettering, and he is rumored to have the sovereign’s ear. My own wealth will be brought to bear on the situation, and do not underestimate the skills of Emily’s intended. He comes across all harmless country squire, but Valerian Dorning could tell King George to leap into the sea and make it sound like friendly advice from a trusted confidant.”

  Or tell a man with a noose all but around his neck to come along for a spot of tea with the local magistrate and make that sound like a cordial invitation.

  “Do you approve of Dorning, Papa?”

  “He did not so much
as bat a handsome eyelash when I told him Emily had no settlements. I more than approve of him. I admire him.”

  “So what are those additional terms you’ll discuss with Briggs?”

  “The less you know of those the better, but suffice it to say, I don’t intend to reduce your inheritance by any substantial amount for her benefit.”

  Meaning Papa would reduce that inheritance by a modest amount, because he still felt sorry for a woman driven to desperate schemes and bitter measures.

  “I’ll find Caleb and Tobias,” Adam said. “I would like to attend Emily’s wedding and invite a friend too, if that’s permissible?”

  “A friend?”

  “She lives near Bournemouth. I think she and Emily will get along. I’m in discussions with her regarding some mercantile investments.”

  Papa smiled, looking for a moment like a younger and more devilish fellow. “You never were one to let grass grow under your feet. I’m sure the bride and groom will welcome your friend—as will I.”

  And that was better than hearing Papa express a mere regret and better even than a royal pardon. That was a welcome back into the family.

  “I feel oddly protective of Briggs,” Emily said, her hand still clasped in Valerian’s, “and I want to strangle her.”

  “You needn’t do either,” he replied, though he knew exactly how she felt. “Let’s take advantage of the shade in the folly.”

  “I don’t hear any shouting. Papa can shout with the best of them now, and Adam is no slouch in a yelling match.”

  To blazes with Papa, Adam, and Briggs. “Will we have yelling matches, do you think?”

  Emily paused at the foot of the steps that led up to the folly. “I want to yell when you pleasure me. Want to yodel to the heavens.”

  Valerian slipped her hand onto his arm. “As a change of subject, Mrs. Dorning-to-be, that will do nicely.”

  She kissed his cheek, which had the agreeable effect of pressing her breast against his arm. “What do you suppose they are discussing, Valerian? I can’t imagine Papa is sweet on Briggs, but he seemed to feel some guilt where she’s concerned.”