When the Rogue Returns

by Sabrina Jeffries

  Damn it all to hell. Amalie was out there somewhere, confused and afraid, and that bastard Gerhart meant to profit from it. When Victor caught up to him, he would kill him with his bare hands.

  “If I had time,” he went on, “I could lay out for you every instance that proves her innocence—the interviews I conducted, the claims of her servants, the things Lochlaw and his mother observed. But that will have to wait.” He steadied his gaze on them, resolute. “My daughter is in that bastard’s clutches and I mean to find her, with or without your help.”

  “You have our help, sir,” Dr. Worth put in. “You know that you do. But the girl might not even be yours.”

  Victor bristled at that. They were as bad as his inquisitors, thinking him some fool. “She was born almost exactly nine months to the day after we married. I asked Gordon where she was christened, then checked the birth records.”

  He’d had to talk to the man while he was hunting down Gerhart, in case Gordon had encountered the pair without knowing who they were. And Victor hadn’t been able to resist asking about Amalie’s birth. Then he’d endured Gordon’s lecture over it, a lecture he’d known he richly deserved. It had been his last little stab of distrust of her.

  Hadn’t it?

  Of course it had. “Don’t you think I probed every part of her story until I was sure of the truth of it? I am no longer a young idiot to be taken in by wild tales.” He choked down his temper. “I trust her. So you are going to have to trust me that I am right about her. If you can’t do that, tell me now. Because I need you on my side if we are to rout Gerhart.”

  A knock sounded at the drawing room door, and he let out a curse. What now? The door opened and Isa sailed in with Lochlaw in tow.

  Victor scowled. “I told you I’d send for you.”

  “Forgive me,” she said tightly, “but I find myself unable to wait on your leisure when our daughter is in danger.”

  He ought to be glad she managed to stay away this long. “What’s he doing here?” Victor demanded, his gaze flicking to the baron.

  Lochlaw flushed but stood his ground. “Let me help,” he said earnestly. “Amalie is a sweet girl. The diamonds are nothing to me next to that.”

  “Damn it, Isa,” Victor cried, “you told him?”

  “Yes, I told him! I told him everything.”

  “Even about us and Amsterdam?” Victor said, incredulous.

  She nodded. “I figured he should know what he’s getting into.”

  Lochlaw stepped forward. “Look here, Cale, I don’t care about what happened in the past. I know that your wife is a good person.”

  “Yes, but you are not the only person in this household.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Isa said. “I don’t care if you never recover the necklace and Lady Lochlaw tries to send me to prison. I don’t care if they hang me. I have to see Amalie safe from them once and for all! I have to!”

  Tristan exchanged a shuttered glance with his companions as he rose. “And my friends and I mean to make sure that you do, Mrs. Cale.”

  Stifling an oath, Victor made introductions all around.

  As soon as he was done, Isa told the men, “Please talk some sense into my husband. He thinks he can find them on his own, but Gerhart is sure to whisk her away if he has any inkling of your involvement.” She leveled a hurt glance on Victor. “I don’t even care if you never trust me or believe me again. I can’t risk our daughter!”

  And in that moment, when he saw the fear and worry in her face and realized that he’d helped to put them there, he knew: She was wrong about him. His inquisitors were wrong. Everyone was wrong.

  The problem ran far deeper than any supposed remnant of distrust of her. And he had to make her see that if they were to save Amalie.

  21

  “GENTLEMEN, WOULD YOU please give me and my wife a moment alone?”

  Isa caught her breath, the words filling her with dread . . . until she saw Victor’s eyes. He was staring at her with a melting tenderness that calmed her fears.

  As soon as the other men moved into the hall, he came up to her. “You asked if what Gerhart said about me was true. And the answer is yes. They did starve and humiliate me. They told me you were using me, that you were a thief who only married me because I was the guard.”

  He dragged in a harsh breath. “Apparently the jeweler, who knew Mother, had told them about my father, so they used that, too. They played on my self-doubts by pointing out that I was a nobody with a mad father, that I would never be able to give you the things you wanted, that I couldn’t take care of you. They said anything to break me down, so that I would admit you were the thief.”

  Hearing her fears so clearly voiced made sobs rise in her throat. “Gerhart said that he heard you wouldn’t give me up. Why not, after all of that?”

  A brilliant smile crossed his lips. “Because, my dearest, there was a part of me deep inside that screamed that they were wrong. A part of me that denied it. A part of me that trusted you when even logic said I shouldn’t.” His eyes darkened. “But after my time in gaol, I buried that part so deep I almost forgot it was there. As did you. Still, it never went away.”

  He grabbed her hands. “Ten years ago, when we let Gerhart and Jacoba and the prince’s guard play on our fears about ourselves, we lost sight of the truth. That we loved each other. Deeply. Intensely. With every part of our souls. ”

  She was crying now, and he reached up to brush the tears from her eyes. “Tell me, Isa. Do you still love me?”

  Through her sobs, she managed to whisper, “Yes.” She did love him. She couldn’t conceive of not loving him.

  “And I love you. More than life, more than breath. That’s why I trust you; why I know bone-deep that every word you’ve told me is true. I know it the same way I know that you regret the past, that you never betrayed me . . . that you would die to keep our daughter safe.” He laid her hands against his chest. “I know it in here. Your good character resonates deep in my heart.”

  He loved her—he truly did! And he believed in her. The past truly was the past.

  “What really kept us apart for so long, what we both forgot,” he went on, “is that we are stronger together. Separately, we remember our weaknesses and our self-doubts and we falter.” He clutched her hands tightly. “Don’t you see, my love? Gerhart said those things to make you doubt yourself, to make you worry about my trusting you. Jacoba mentioned our daughter so I would get angry at you and doubt my budding trust of you.”

  As he spoke, her vision of the past shifted. Like a jeweler cleaving a gem, Jacoba had known just where to score the stone so she could crack it with one blow. She’d known how to play on Isa’s fears—and Victor’s. And they’d let those fears drive them apart.

  “Even my inquisitors knew just where to stick the knife to make me falter,” Victor was saying. “They didn’t have to lift one hand to me. All they had to do was appeal to the part of me that didn’t feel good enough for you—the part that was ashamed of my parents and my childhood and worried about my ability to care for you.”

  His voice turned fierce. “But they couldn’t touch the part of me that loved you. And Jacoba and Gerhart couldn’t touch the part of you that loved me. So we can’t let them touch it now. We have to hold firm to what we know, what we believe: that together we can save our daughter. That we are good, strong people who can do anything we put our minds to.”

  Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed them softly. “That our love for each other is the rock upon which everything depends. As long as we cling to that rock, they cannot drown us, no matter how hard they try. As long as we cling to that rock, we will save Amalie.”

  “Oh, Victor,” she whispered. “We have to save her. I don’t know if even our love could survive the loss of her.”

  “Our love can survive anything,” he vowed. “But let’s make sure that it doesn’t have to survive that, shall we?”

  He kissed her lips then, and she took solace from the sweetness of it. Whe
n he drew back, his eyes burned into hers. “Believe in me, lieveke. Believe in yourself. And we will get through this.”

  He released her hands. “Now, let’s make a plan to save our daughter.” Striding to the door, he opened it. “Come in, gentlemen. We must figure out what to do.”

  As the men filed back in, Isa could tell that they’d been discussing matters in the hall. It reassured her that they radiated the same bold confidence as Victor. Mr. Manton and Mr. Bonnaud were used to dealing with the likes of Gerhart and Jacoba. She only hoped they were as successful in getting her daughter back as they’d been in finding Victor.

  Mr. Manton faced Victor. “It seems to me that if the baron is willing to offer the diamonds—”

  “No,” Victor said firmly. “Gerhart is setting a trap, just as he did last time. If we play the game his way, he’ll win and we’ll be left with nothing.”

  “So we don’t play the game his way,” Mr. Bonnaud said. “We play it ours. We have a few advantages. He doesn’t know that more Duke’s Men are here, or that the baron is in on the scheme.” He nodded at Isa. “And he vastly underestimates the determination of a lioness to protect her cub.”

  Victor smiled warmly at her. “Very true. Gerhart also expects Isa to be a mouse—one more advantage we have.” He glanced at Rupert. “I know what Gerhart said about not following her, but is there any chance we can do so from off the road?”

  “It’s heavily wooded,” Rupert said. “I fear that if you stayed close enough to keep sight of her, you’d be heard by him. Strathridge Road isn’t traveled very much.”

  “Which is probably why he chose it,” Dom said. “Still, with three more men involved than Gerhart expects, we can lie in wait at intervals alongside the road.”

  “I could charge the servants with helping—” Rupert began.

  “No,” Victor said sharply. “The moment we involve the servants—or the other guests—there are too many people to control. Someone will spook him.”

  “All right,” Rupert said. “Most of the road runs along the river, so he’s likely to come from the side away from that. I can also tell you the best places to hide. I know every inch of those woods from gathering plants for my experiments.”

  “That’s something else Gerhart won’t expect,” Tristan pointed out. “He’ll assume that Victor knows the terrain as little as he.”

  “So if his lordship can show us a couple of hours beforehand where to station ourselves along it,” Dom said, “we can divide the road up among the five of us, so we can search for Gerhart after the exchange is made. We might even get lucky and see where he enters it from the woods.”

  “True, but you’re missing the point,” Victor said. “All of this presumes that we let Isa meet him and give him the diamonds. But even if we caught him with them, he’d just claim that he had no idea they were stolen. He’ll say that his loving sister-in-law brought them to him as a gift. He’ll say that Isa did ask him and Jacoba to fetch Amalie, and that they were coming to bring her to Isa when Isa decided to meet them on the road.”

  Dragging his fingers through his hair, Victor began to pace. “It’s not as if Isa can deny that they’re her family. And the authorities won’t want to believe that Amalie’s own aunt and uncle kidnapped her. There’s no note, no evidence to prove Isa’s story other than those bruises on her neck, and she could have made those herself. It’s her word against his that he kidnapped Amalie.”

  Rupert’s gaze shot to her in alarm. “What bruises on your neck?”

  “Never mind,” Isa murmured.

  At that, Dr. Worth inexplicably narrowed his gaze on her.

  “Gerhart will invent some story to save his own skin and make sure Isa gets blamed for it,” Victor went on. “If pressed, he’ll drag out the theft from years ago and blame that on her, too.”

  “And you, if he can manage it.” Isa glanced to the other men. “That’s how Gerhart works.” When she saw them exchange veiled glances, her heart sank. “I know you gentlemen have no reason to believe me anything but a schemer and a thief. I’m not sure I would believe me. But—”

  “Actually,” Dr. Worth interrupted, “I do believe you.” He gestured to the scarf around her neck. “A schemer would be making the most of those bruises you’re covering up, using them to whip us into a frenzy so she could get what she wanted. But a woman with a heart and a conscience wouldn’t want to distress her admirers—or her husband—any further.”

  “What bruises?” Rupert cried. “Did your brother-in-law hurt you, Mrs. Cale?”

  “See what I mean?” Dr. Worth said with a smile.

  Tears stung Isa’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Whatever you can do to regain my daughter will be much appreciated. But I don’t see any way around giving Gerhart the diamonds. Believe me, I wish I did.”

  Mr. Bonnaud rubbed his chin. “It’s a pity we can’t get him to steal them himself. It would be hard for him to deny being caught in the act of theft.”

  “That would be convenient,” Victor said, “because then every claim Gerhart made after that would be deemed untrustworthy. The preponderance of old evidence he might bring to bear against Isa would work against him instead.”

  “Unfortunately, Gerhart is too much a coward to do his own stealing,” Isa said bitterly. “Even in Amsterdam, he sent my sister to the shop rather than going himself. He prefers to throw the blame for crimes on other people.”

  “Exactly,” Victor said, but he sounded distracted as he wandered over to the fireplace.

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he didn’t even take part in opening the strongbox beyond making the false keys,” Isa went on. “He always—”

  “That’s it!” Victor whirled to face Rupert. “Where does your mother keep the diamonds?”

  “In . . . in her jewelry case. Why?”

  “Could it be breached easily? Broken into?”

  Rupert scowled. “You don’t have to break into it. I’m giving you the jewelry.”

  “Just answer the question, damn it!” Victor growled.

  The poor lad blinked. “It has a key, but Mother hides that in her bureau. I suppose the case could be smashed open if someone really wanted to steal anything, but here in the country, with all the servants about—”

  “Someone would almost definitely be caught,” Victor said gleefully. “Or at least seen fleeing with the gems.”

  Mr. Bonnaud’s eyes lit up. “So if Gerhart can be seen running off with them by someone other than you two—or us—then when we capture him on the road, we won’t have to mention any kidnapping. We’ll merely be part of a group of men apprehending him for the theft he just committed.”

  “Desperate men do desperate things, after all,” Mr. Manton said, a slow smile curving up his lips. “Everything that has happened can be recast to fit our tale. Gerhart assaulted Mrs. Cale in the woods when she wouldn’t give him money. He grew desperate after that, and ran into the manor to steal the diamonds.”

  Victor got excited. “We can point out that his wife showed up at Isa’s home to get money from her a few days ago. Isa’s servant can testify that Isa threw Jacoba out for it.”

  “And if he starts claiming that Mrs. Cale stole those diamonds in Amsterdam,” Mr. Bonnaud said eagerly, “Victor’s claims otherwise will sound more believable in light of Gerhart’s clear theft of the diamonds now.”

  “The timing will have to be precise,” Mr. Manton warned. “We’ll have to work fast.”

  “But—” Isa began, not following the conversation at all.

  “I know,” Victor said, ignoring her. “Fortunately, with Lochlaw involved, we can shape events to our satisfaction. He’ll make sure the right people are in the right places at the right time.”

  Isa stared at them. “But I don’t see—”

  “And since no one needs to actually lay their eyes on the diamonds,” Mr. Manton said, “your wife can already have them in her possession while everything is happening.”

  “Yes,” Victor said, �
��she’ll have a part to play as well. Because she has to have a firm alibi for the theft.”

  Isa scowled. “I don’t—”

  “As do you,” Mr. Manton pointed out.

  “Will all of you just be quiet!” Isa finally cried. When she’d got their attention, she said, “I don’t understand you. How can you possibly get Gerhart to steal the diamonds?”

  “We can’t,” Victor said, grinning at her. “But we don’t have to. We just have to make it look like he did.” He turned to Mr. Bonnaud. “Ready to do a bit of playacting, old chap?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  BY TWO O’CLOCK, Victor and Isa were ready for their “alibi” performance. As they headed out to the banks of the river that ran along one end of the Kinlaw Castle grounds, Victor could tell she was nervous, but it didn’t matter.

  They had to do this. It was the only way he could think of to save Amalie and her. He hated that she still had to meet with Gerhart, but there was no way around it. He could only pray that Lochlaw was right, and they’d be able to keep her well in sight from certain vantage points along Strathridge Road.

  “Victor, I’m not so sure about this part of the plan,” she murmured.

  “You don’t think Tristan can steal the diamonds?”

  “I’m sure he can, but what if someone gets a good look at him? He’s at least ten years younger than Gerhart, and their faces aren’t remotely similar. Though I suppose the false beard does help.”

  “Trust me, Isa,” Victor said as he escorted her down the stairs. “Tristan’s disguise will hold up from a distance.”

  “Yes, but what if—”

  “Tristan is experienced at slipping into and out of tight spots. He’s not going to let anyone see him closely but Miss Gordon, and she’s already been coached in what to say.”

  They’d had to involve the young woman since they needed one reliable “witness” to the “theft” who could raise the alarm.