“As I said, not my concern. But her ladyship won’t miss them until some ball or other, so after you take the real necklace and bring it to me, you’ll have plenty of time to replace it with an imitation to save your neck. Either way, I want the real diamonds by evening. Then, and only then, will I give you my niece.”
“What if I can’t get to the necklace?” she asked, her heart pounding painfully. “What if it’s in a strongbox or—”
“Then your sister and I will be raising little Amalie.” He taunted her, “I daresay she’ll be a hard little worker in some trade. Of course, she’ll always wonder what happened to her mama, but—”
Isa released a savage growl, and he choked off her air again.
Now his voice held an edge. “And don’t be thinking to pawn off any fake jewels on me. You taught me how to tell paste from real well enough. So, at five o’clock this evening, you will take the Lochlaw diamonds and leave the estate—alone—to ride out along Strathridge Road. At some point along the route, I’ll join you and we’ll make the exchange—my niece for the diamonds.”
Anger had her shaking even as she struggled for breath.
“Oh, and one more thing, sister. I advise you not to mention this little conversation to your husband. We both know he wouldn’t approve of your stealing any diamonds, even to save your brat. And if I see him going off to town to summon the authorities or mount a rescue, if I get even a hint that he’s following you this evening, I will never show myself, and you will never see your daughter again. Do you understand?”
When he lessened the pressure on her throat once more, she rasped, “I understand, you coward.” She fought for breath to vent her rage, but could only manage a low whisper. “I understand very well that if you hurt Amalie in any way, I’ll find you and cut your heart out.”
He chuckled. “How bloodthirsty you’ve become, Mausi. Does Cale have to sleep with one eye open, after the way he abandoned you?”
“You know quite well he didn’t abandon me!” she hissed.
“True. So perhaps it’s you having to sleep with one eye open. I heard that Cale languished in gaol for weeks while the prince’s guards were given free rein to go at him full bore, trying to learn the truth.”
A chill froze her blood. “You know what happened to him after I left?”
“The friends who helped us leave Amsterdam told me.” His voice turned snide. “You must have quite the hold on him. I heard that they starved and humiliated him, day after day, determined to make him break down and admit who committed the crime. And he still wouldn’t point the finger at you, poor sod.”
Oh, Victor, my love. “That ‘poor sod’ will see you dead before this is over,” she warned in a harsh rasp. “And I’ll see you hang for this if it’s the last thing I do.”
He tightened his grip on her throat again. “I wouldn’t be planning on that if I were you, sister. Not if you want Amalie to ever meet her father.” He mused aloud, “Perhaps we’ll pass her off as our daughter. With those blond curls of hers, she certainly looks like Jacoba.”
Impotent tears welled in her eyes.
Suddenly she heard the sounds of rustling brush. “Isa! Where are you?” Victor called. “Forget about that damned golf ball! I concede the wager.”
“I must go,” Gerhart whispered. “But I’ll see you on the road at five o’clock. Don’t forget.”
Then he tightened his hold until everything went black.
When she came to, she was lying on her back on the ground staring up into Victor’s worried face as he knelt beside her, chafing her hands.
“Are you all right?” he said hoarsely. “Did you faint?”
“I’m . . . fine,” she rasped, her throat still too sore to do more than whisper. For half a second, she considered not telling him and just doing what Gerhart wanted, however she could.
But that impulse swiftly fled. Victor had a right to know. And she needed to tell him. “Gerhart was here. You must go after him!”
Shock lit Victor’s face before he leapt to his feet in a fury. “Devil take it, I’ll kill him for hurting you!”
“No!” she hissed, grabbing his leg. “Don’t go near him! He’s kidnapped Amalie, but he wouldn’t say where he’s got her. So just follow him. That’s all!”
Victor paled. After briefly scanning the woods, he headed off at a run.
She lay there a moment, her breath coming in labored gasps. When she could breathe again, she struggled to her feet. Glancing around, she looked for anything Gerhart might have left behind as a clue to Amalie’s whereabouts, but all she found was her bonnet, which had been knocked off in the struggle with Gerhart. As she bent to pick it up, she spotted the fleur-de-lis hatpin nearby, glittering in the leaves.
The tears she’d been holding back during her encounter with Gerhart now streamed down her face. She took the hatpin in her gloved hands and stared blindly into the woods.
“Hold on, dearling,” she whispered. “We’re coming for you. They won’t get away with this.”
Guilt settled in her belly like soured wine. She should have listened to Victor, and gone to get Amalie the second those two appeared in Edinburgh. No, she should never have let her daughter out of her sight in the first place. If only she’d kept her at home. If only—
The sounds of footsteps in the brush made her turn to find Rupert and Mary Grace approaching.
Rupert took in her tears and dirt-smeared skirts and his eyes widened. “What the deuce happened? We’ve been looking and looking for you.” He surveyed her surroundings. “Where’s Victor? He called out that he’d found you.”
She thought fast. “I . . . I startled a vagrant who knocked me down. Victor went after him.”
“A vagrant!” Rupert cried. “On the estate? No doubt it was a poacher. I shall speak to the gamekeeper at once.”
“No, I’m all right,” she said hastily. She had to talk to Victor, figure out what they were going to do before she involved Rupert. “I’m sure he’s gone by now.”
She hoped he was. And that Victor was tracking him.
“Perhaps you should go lie down in the house,” Mary Grace said, hurrying to her side to take hold of her arm. “You look unwell, truly you do. And you’re talking funny.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “I—I probably should go inside.”
The rustling of brush coming from the direction Victor had headed made her heart sink. As soon as he came into view, panic seized her.
“You two go on,” she urged Rupert and Mary Grace, wanting only to get rid of them now. “Victor’s back. He can look after me.”
“Did you find the poacher?” Rupert asked Victor.
“No,” Victor said, his heart in his eyes as he looked at her. “He had a horse waiting; I heard it whinny and then hoofbeats as he rode away. By the time I got to the road, he was long gone. It’s been so dry, I couldn’t even tell which way he went. And he may not have taken the road at all.”
“A poacher with a horse,” Rupert mused aloud. “That’s peculiar.”
“Lochlaw,” Victor said in a tight voice. “Could you hurry ahead to the house and make sure there’s some wine waiting for Isa?”
“Oh! Of course! Come, Miss Gordon, let’s go.”
As soon as they were out of earshot, she grabbed Victor’s arms. “He’s gone? Disappeared?”
The howling in Victor’s eyes mirrored that in her heart. “Yes,” he snapped. “But he’s a dead man. This time, nothing you say will keep me from murdering that bastard.”
“I would rather see him hang.” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “But first, we must get Amalie back.”
“And how are we to do that?”
Through a throat still raw from Gerhart’s abuse, she told him what her evil brother-in-law wanted.
20
A SHORT WHILE later, Isa watched Victor change into his riding clothes in their bedchamber at Kinlaw Castle. She’d never seen him like this, so driven . . . so deadly cold.
He’d been like this
from the moment she’d told him what Gerhart wanted. It worried her. Especially when he shoved a flintlock pistol into each greatcoat pocket.
“Victor, you must listen to me—”
“No!” His gaze turned desperate, trailing down over her neck, where bruises were surely showing already. “Forgive me for not protecting you, lieveke,” he said hoarsely as he came up to cup her cheek. “The very thought of him hurting you—”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was. I should have been there with you.” He gave a shudder, then stiffened his stance and returned to stuffing items in his pockets. “Dom and Tristan are on their way here, and we will find that bastard and Amalie if we have to search all day.”
Any discussion of not involving Manton’s Investigations had ended once Amalie was taken.
“You couldn’t find him before,” she said. “What makes you think you can find them now?”
She regretted her words the instant Victor tensed. “This time I have help; surely Dom, Tristan, and I can run him to ground before evening.” He took out a powder flask and checked its contents. “No matter what I have to do, I will set everything right and rid us of the Hendrixes forever.”
“But if Gerhart sees the three of you searching,” she cried, “he’ll bolt, and I won’t have the chance to get her back!”
Victor rounded on her so swiftly that she jumped, and he cursed under his breath. “You are not meeting alone with him ever again.” His gaze dropped to her neck, and his mouth formed a grim line. “He could have killed you today. I would never have forgiven myself if he had.”
She swallowed. “But he didn’t. And he won’t. Not as long as he thinks he can get something from me.”
“You’re not stealing the Lochlaw diamonds for that man!” he growled.
“I quite agree.” She squared her shoulders. “I merely mean to borrow them.”
He stared at her. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“Rupert adores Amalie. He will certainly loan me the necklace long enough to save her. Then you and your men can hunt Gerhart down for however long it takes to retrieve it.”
“And what happens if I can’t get it back before he sells the gems out of it, the way he did before? That necklace is a family heirloom. Lochlaw might not care if it disappears, but the baroness most certainly will.”
“Rupert won’t involve her,” she said stoutly.
“The minute she needs to wear the necklace for some society affair and it’s not to be found, she’ll start pestering him about where it went. You know Lochlaw. He won’t stand firm against her. He’ll give you up, and next thing you know, Lady Lochlaw will have you prosecuted. She won’t care why he ‘loaned’ them to you, especially once she hears about what happened in Amsterdam.”
“We have no choice! Amalie is at stake!”
Stark fear showed in his face before he shuttered it. “Yes, but I’m not gaining our daughter only to lose her mother.” He shoved the powder flask into his pocket. “I’ll save you both without risking prison for either of us.”
A knock came at the door and Victor hurried to open it. Isa heard a footman say, “Mr. Cale, there are three gentlemen downstairs waiting to speak to you. They say they’re from London.”
“Thank you, I’ve been expecting them. Tell them I’ll be along in a moment.”
The footman headed off as Isa said, “Three? Who is the third?”
“Probably my cousin, though I’m surprised they involved him.” Victor faced Isa with a grim expression. “I have to go.” When she walked toward him, he added, “Let me have a few moments alone with them, Isa.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because I haven’t told them anything about us yet. And I need to do that without you there to make them nervous.”
Oh, Lord.
I heard that they starved and humiliated him, day after day, determined to make him break down and admit who committed the crime. And he still wouldn’t point the finger at you, poor sod.
No—but he hadn’t forgotten it, either.
Whatever he saw on her face made his expression soften. “I’ll want you to come in afterward and answer their questions. But with two of us telling the tale, it will get too confusing and take too long. It will go more quickly if I prepare them first. All right?”
She gazed at him warily. “I suppose.”
He sighed and closed the door. “Don’t you trust me to save our daughter, Isa?”
“That’s not it.” She searched his face. “The question is whether you trust me.”
A muscle throbbed in his jaw. “Of course I trust you.”
“Then why won’t you let me borrow the diamonds?” she asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of Lady Lochlaw. You’re cousin to a duke; Lochlaw is a baron. The two of them can prevail if something happens to those diamonds.”
She shook her head. “No—it’s because deep inside, some small part of you still worries that this is just another scheme. That my family and I have found a more creative way to trick you so we can commit another theft right under your nose.”
Anger flared in his face. “That’s absurd. I know you would never steal.”
She smiled wanly. “Just a week ago, you were painting me a master criminal who wanted to steal the diamonds for herself.”
“That was before I knew the truth!” he protested.
“It was also before you found out that I hid your daughter from you.” She softened her voice. “I wouldn’t blame you for not trusting me. Not after what Gerhart told me about what they did to you in Amsterdam. He heard of it from his friends.”
Every inch of him went rigid. “You can’t believe anything Gerhart says.”
“I wouldn’t generally, but I know something happened to you after I left, something that turned you bitter and angry. Something more than my seeming abandonment.”
When Victor turned away with an oath, she added in a whisper, “Is it true the prince’s guard starved you? Humiliated you? That you were in gaol for weeks, being tormented?”
“It’s all in the past. None of it matters now.”
“All of it matters!” She grabbed him by the arm. “It’s still a thorn in your heart, making you wary of me, making you do things like call in your friends without consulting me, and refuse to let me take the diamonds. Because deep down, you’re afraid it will all happen again—Jacoba and Gerhart and I destroying your life, fooling you—”
“Damn it, Isa, that’s not true!” He released a shaky breath, then continued in a more controlled tone, “We don’t have time for this. You’ll just to have to believe me when I say that the only ones I distrust are Gerhart and Jacoba.” He pulled free of her and opened the door. “I’ll send for you when we’re ready for you.”
“Victor—”
“No arguing right now, Isa. I have to go.” He walked out and left her.
You’ll just have to believe me when I say that the only ones I distrust are Gerhart and Jacoba.
She wanted to believe him, to be sure that the past wasn’t influencing his decisions. But how could she, after what had happened to him? What if the real reason he refused to try giving Gerhart the diamonds was some lingering distrust of her?
She had to do something. If Victor wouldn’t involve Rupert, she would. Because she was not going to let Gerhart have her baby.
She headed for the door. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she winced to see the purplish bruises ringing her throat. It was no wonder Victor wasn’t thinking rationally right now, if this was what he had seen. She didn’t think the sight of them would turn Rupert irrational, too, but right now she needed both men to be sensible.
Determinedly, she jerked out a scarf and wrapped it about her neck. Then she went off to find Rupert.
♦ ♦ ♦
VICTOR HURRIED DOWN the stairs with Isa’s words ringing in his ears. Was she right? Did he still distrust her, somewhere in the part of his soul he never wanted to probe? Where the ghosts of his i
nquisitors resided?
Your wife is too clever for the likes of you. She knows you can never provide her with the riches she craves.
He thought he’d silenced those voices once he knew the truth, but perhaps she was right. Perhaps he never could.
Forcing that uneasy thought away, he joined his friends. He trusted her. He did. And now it was time to lay everything out for them, and make sure they trusted her, too. Because they had to help him. He couldn’t do it alone.
To his surprise, Dom and Tristan had brought Dr. Percy Worth with them, the man who had cured Victor’s pneumonia when he was near death on the ship a few months ago. The doctor had become the de facto physician to the Duke’s Men, so Victor wasn’t surprised that they’d wanted him along. He hadn’t said what his emergency was; they might have thought he was injured.
He was glad to see the man. He and Isa would need all the help they could get.
It took far too long to tell them everything that had happened, right up to the kidnapping. They asked a number of questions, and when they fell quiet at the end of his tale, it worried him.
Then Dom rose from his chair. “You do know how insane this all sounds.”
“Probably as insane as my turning out to be the long-lost cousin of a duke,” Victor said dryly. “Or you, a viscount’s son, being forced to become the owner of an investigative agency.” When Dom grimaced at that, Victor glanced at Tristan. “Or you ending up as an agent for the French police after stealing your half brother’s horse.” Victor crossed his arms over his chest. “Life is full of insanity. And just because it sounds insane doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
Tristan stared at him. “We’re not questioning whether it happened, but whether it happened the way your wife says it did. She could have conspired with her family to steal those diamonds years ago and set you up to be blamed for it. And she could very well be colluding with her family now to do it again.”
“You wouldn’t think that if you’d seen her throat,” Victor ground out.
He’d hardly been able to look at her once the bruises had begun showing, so dark against the pale skin of her neck. Just the sight of them had made his heart stop and his belly roil. And when he thought of the terror she must be feeling—the terror he was feeling—
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