by Brenda Hiatt
"Sir?" Purseglove asked in apparent concern, though not before moving a prudent distance away.
Silas brought a fist crashing down on the hall table, shattering the porcelain correspondence tray. He barely noticed the butler disappearing into the library. How in hell had the little jade managed this on such short notice? And who was this Turpin fellow?
The name seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put a face to it just now, his mind was in such chaos. Some fortune hunter she had met along the North Road, no doubt. Silas had kept Dina so sheltered, she'd no doubt been easy prey, falling for the fellow's blandishments. He glanced over Dina's letter again, then crushed it in his fist.
So, they were on their way here, were they? That didn't give him much time. It was suddenly imperative that he find that jewel case —and come up with a plan to separate as much of Dina's fortune from this upstart as possible, before his creditors got wind of her marriage.
He smiled to himself. Perhaps this Turpin fellow could be . . . persuaded to forget that the wedding ever took place. Then it would be a simple matter to cow Dina as well and destroy whatever documentation they might have.
First, though, the jewels. As insurance.
It was after midnight when the post chaise finally rolled through the sleeping village of Ashcombe. Dina watched with bleary eyes as they passed the market square and the little parish church before continuing on up the road to Ashcombe Hall.
"We're finally here," she whispered, touching Violet to wake her. At her side, Mr. Turpin stirred, as well.
They had traveled the last two hours in near silence, as first one, then another of them dozed, while the others stayed quiet to avoid waking whichever one was sleeping. Now they all blinked at each other in the dim light from the coach lanterns outside and began to gather up their belongings.
The house was dark, but when Dina and the others walked up the front steps, the door opened to reveal old Purseglove, holding a candle.
"Good evening, Miss Moore," he said, his glance straying to the others. "Your brother asked me to watch for you, in case you arrived late. He, I fear, has already retired for the night."
That was just as well, Dina thought. She would far rather face Silas in the morning, after a good night's rest in her own bed. "Thank you, Purseglove. This is Miss Turpin and this is my husband, Mr. Turpin."
The retainer's eyes widened. "Your—? Ah, very good, Miss . . . Mrs. . . . er, my congratulations. Shall I show you upstairs?"
"Yes, please. And have Thomas —or whoever is awake —fetch our things from the coach." So, it seemed that Silas had indeed received her letter, but had declined to mention her changed status to even the upper servants. Interesting.
Once upstairs, Mr. Turpin was shown to a room at the end of the hall, which put Silas's rooms between Dina's and his, while Miss Turpin was given the guest chamber across the hall. She was too tired to puzzle through the possible ramifications of Silas's choices, however, and it was with relief that she finally entered her own bedchamber for the first time in nearly a week.
Her maid hurried forward to divest her of her cloak. "Oh, Miss, I am so glad you are returned home safe! We were that worried about you."
"Thank you, Francine. I'm sorry to have caused anxiety. We can talk in the morning, however. Just now I want nothing more than my bed."
With a nod, the maid hurried through her ministrations, then left Dina alone. She turned toward her familiar four-poster with a weary sigh, but then paused, noticing that the nightstand was farther from the bed than usual —as was the chair beyond it. A quick survey of the room revealed that nearly all of the furniture was slightly out of position.
Frowning, she went to her dressing table and opened the top drawer. Here, too, things had been moved from the way she normally kept them, her powder box pushed all the way to the back of the drawer. This had not been a matter of the carpets being cleaned, as she'd first thought. No, someone had searched her room.
The jewel chest, she realized. Silas must already be searching for it. No doubt it was the first thing he'd done after reading her letter —after the inevitable outburst of temper. Quickly, she crossed to the fireplace and knelt down.
Clumsy in her weariness, it took her a moment to find the loose stone and pry it out of its place. With trembling fingers, she reached into the hole revealed, cringing, as she always did, at the thought of spiders. When her fingers encountered a hard, rectangular object, she gave a sigh of relief.
Still, just to be sure, she pulled it out— with difficulty, as it was nearly the size of the crevice —and opened it. Yes, everything Silas had not already taken was still there: the diamond parure, the emerald ear drops, and the sapphire set.
Satisfied, she replaced the chest and the stone, then checked to make certain she'd left no evidence, even sprinking a tiny bit of soot across the stone so that it would exactly match the others. Finally, she wiped her fingers on a scrap of paper, threw the paper into the fire, then dragged herself into bed.
The next morning she was up early despite her late night, determined to speak with Silas before he saw either of the Turpins. Francine, her instincts apparently not dulled by Dina's brief absence, appeared the moment she stepped out of bed, bearing two coppers of hot water.
"Oh, bless you," Dina exclaimed. "I'm dying for a bath— though it will have to be a quick one, alas."
It was heavenly to be clean again, and to dress in a different gown from the one she'd been wearing for days. This blue one had always been one of her favorites, even though it, like the rest of her wardrobe, was woefully out of fashion. Still, both cut and color flattered her, she thought.
Finally, her hair washed, dried and arranged, she headed downstairs, trying to focus only on the interview ahead and not what Mr. Turpin might think of her improved appearance —and smell.
"Ah, there you are," Silas greeted her when she entered the dining room. Rather to her surprise, he was smiling, though the smile seemed strained. "Purseglove told me you all arrived in the wee hours. Sleep well, did you?"
"Exceedingly. Travel is far more tiring than I'd realized." She seated herself across from him. Even though he seemed surprisingly calm, given the circumstances, she felt it wise to keep the width of the table between them.
Now he leaned forward with what appeared to be genuine concern, though she thought she caught a flicker of anger in his eyes. "Perhaps you should have considered that before embarking on such an ill-advised journey. Dina, what on earth were you thinking? And who is this Turpin fellow, anyway? I was worried sick about you, imagining the worst. When your message came, I more than half expected it would prove to be a ransom note."
"I never meant to alarm anyone, Silas," she replied calmly, "but I saw no other way to safeguard my future."
"Your future?" He sat back in apparent surprise. "Why could you not trust your future to me? I am your brother, after all, and your nearest living kin. Who better to safeguard it than I?"
Though loathe to shatter this fragile civility between them, Dina knew it would be best to get the worst over before the others came down. "Perhaps someone who does not intend to spend my inheritance on gaming debts? Or who has not conspired to keep me from marrying before that inheritance could become his?"
As she'd expected, her brother's already florid complexion darkened further. "Gambling . . . Conspired . . . What the devil are you talking about?"
"You know quite well what I'm talking about Silas, so you need not dissemble. Diggory all but admitted that you and he plotted together to delay my marriage. And I've read some of the letters from your creditors. I am fully aware of what you intended to do."
Both of his large hands came crashing down onto the table, on either side of his plate, and he heaved himself to his feet. "The devil, you say! You had no right to read my correspondence, and Tallow had no business—"
He broke off and took several deep breaths before continuing. "If Diggory told you that, he was lying. If either of you had but asked my con
sent to your marriage, I'd have given it. As for my debts, it's true that I have a few— what gentleman doesn't? But all I needed was a portion of your inheritance, and I fully intended to repay it."
"And Mother's jewels? I know you have already sold some of them, and would have taken the rest, given the chance. Would you have returned those to me as well? I'm well aware that you searched my room for them while I was away."
Only a brief clenching of his jaw betrayed that her words had struck home before he widened his eyes in a surprisingly convincing show of innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I must say, it hurts to think you would believe such a thing of me, Dina."
"I have no wish to hurt you, Silas." She kept her voice low and soothing, knowing that his mood might shift and explode into violence at any moment. "But you cannot claim to have acted honorably toward me in this matter, whatever intentions you now profess."
"And this fortune-hunter you've married, this Turpin fellow? Has he acted honorably? I think not," he continued before she could answer. "And he'll answer to me for it, mark my words."
That was just the sort of reaction she'd come downstairs to head off. "Our marriage was my idea, Silas, because I could see no other way to keep my fortune out of your creditors' hands. Had I left my future to you, I've no doubt we would both have ended in poverty. Now, at least, I am in a position to help you somewhat."
Silas' face reddened. "Help me?" he exclaimed. "By paupering me? By turning to a complete stranger instead of to your own flesh and blood? It only proves how crafty this Turpin is, that he was able to convince you this marriage was your idea instead of his. Call the bastard down and I'll tell him so to his face."
"You'll do no such thing," she exclaimed. "Mr. Turpin has in fact behaved most honorably, marrying me as a favor, after I rendered a service to his sister. I'll not have you insult him because of it."
Her brother snorted. "Sister? You're such an innocent, Dina. I'll lay any odds the woman he was traveling with is his doxy, not his sister. Perhaps I've kept you too sheltered after all."
Dina would have laughed if she hadn't been so angry. "You know nothing of it, Silas, so pray don't embarrass yourself with such insinuations."
"I'll do as I please. It's not as though you can stop me. Let's call this Turpin fellow down and see what he has to say for himself, shall we?" He was smiling again, but the smile was most unpleasant.
She opened her mouth to respond, but from behind her came a voice like a drawn sword. "There's no need to call the Turpin fellow down, Mr. Moore. However, I strongly suggest you retract what I just overheard you saying about my sister."
Chapter Seven
Dina watched with surprise and some relief as Silas's expression shifted from smugly triumphant to openly hostile, then to guardedly respectful as he took Mr. Turpin's considerable measure. She should have known that her brother would not be able to bully this man.
"Mr. Turpin." Ever so slightly, Silas inclined his head. "My sister and I were just, ah, discussing you."
"So I heard." Mr. Turpin kept his voice low and level, giving nothing away by his expression. "I wish I could say that I'm pleased to make your acquaintance at last. As I recall, however, we encountered one another briefly in Town last summer."
Dina saw a dawning recognition in Silas's eyes. It appeared that he did indeed remember a previous meeting —and not particularly pleasantly. Of course, Mr. Turpin would be rather difficult to forget.
"Ah, yes. You're the fellow known to his intimates as Thor, are you not? Heir to Lord Rumble? I thought the name Turpin seemed familiar. My apologies for not making the connection sooner." A belated smile lifted the corners of his lips.
Thor? It was the first time Dina had heard the nickname, but she couldn't deny it fit, with his Viking build, his fair but powerful good looks and a voice that could sound like thunder when he was angry. Thor. Yes, it definitely fit him better than the name Grant.
Mr. Turpin —Thor —did not return Silas's attempt at a smile. "Perhaps now you will acquit me of marrying your sister for her fortune, and recant your aspersions against my own sister."
"Er, yes, yes, of course. Pray have a seat, Mr. Turpin, while I call for more food. Dina, you'll want your breakfast as well, I don't doubt, as will Miss Turpin when she awakes. Shall I have a tray sent up to her?"
His manner was now positively ingratiating, but though that relieved Dina's immediate fears, it did not engender any more confidence in her brother's actual motives. She'd seen him pretend one thing while plotting another all too often over the years.
"No need. My sister said that she would be down directly." Thor glanced over his shoulder. "In fact, here she is now."
Light steps heralded Violet's entrance. She was dressed, Thor noted with faint disapproval, in a form-fitting morning gown of bright pink that served to emphasize the womanliness of her figure. He'd have preferred to see her in something more modest and subdued, under the circumstances.
"Good morning," she said breezily, moving toward a seat next to Dina. "I hope you have not all been waiting on me. I confess I insisted on a proper bath before coming down, after so many days of travel."
Dina, who had been both still and silent since Thor's entrance, now came to life. "Good morning, Violet, and no, we've not been waiting. Pray do not apologize, as I felt the same need of a bath myself." Then turning to her brother, "Silas, pray let me present Miss Violet Turpin. Violet, my brother, Silas Moore."
Mr. Moore stepped around the table to take Violet's extended hand. "Your servant, of course, Miss Turpin," he said with a chaste kiss of her fingertips. "I am delighted to welcome you into my home."
Violet glanced in apparent confusion from him to Dina to Thor, then back at her host. "Why, thank you, Mr. Moore, that is most gracious of you. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."
Thor moved to pull out his sister's chair, but Silas was quicker. "I must thank you, Miss Turpin, for befriending my sister in what must have been a most awkward situation. Believe me, I am most grateful."
She smiled up at him, a hint of flirtatiousness in her manner that made Thor clench his teeth. "It is I who has reason to be grateful to Dina, Mr. Moore. Your sister is quite the heroine, in my opinion, for she saved me from a most imprudent step."
"Indeed?" He moved back to his seat across the table, his gaze never leaving Violet's. "I have yet to hear the details of how you all came to meet —and how my sister came to marry so, ah, unexpectedly. Perhaps you would care to enlighten me, Miss Turpin?"
Thor glanced at Dina to find her frowning. Catching her eye, he raised a questioning brow and she responded with a slight shrug, though she did not seem best pleased. Violet, oblivious to the interchange, chattered on.
"Oh, certainly. It's rather appropriate that I do so, actually, since it was my own folly which precipitated everything. You see, I had quite unwisely agreed to elope with a man who turned out to be more in love with my fortune than with me. Why, even the poetry he sent me turned out not to be of his own composing! I have Dina to thank for that knowledge, as well."
Thor rather wished Violet had not been so candid. He didn't think he'd imagined the gleam in Silas's eyes at the word "fortune." However, the fellow only said, "Indeed? Then it sounds as though you made the right choice when you declined to marry him, though I can't imagine any man being truly unmoved by your charms, Miss Turpin."
She dimpled at the compliment. "You are very kind, sir."
"Not at all, for it is the simple truth. But how did my sister —and your brother —come into the mix?"
"Oh, yes. Dina had arrived in Gretna Green a short time before we did, and invited us to dine with her, then allowed me to share her room at the inn. It was through conversation with her that my eyes were opened to Mr. Plunkett's true character. By morning I had decided against marrying him. My brother arrived a short time after that, having pursued me there from Lincolnshire."
"I see. But how—?"
"One thing I don't understand," V
iolet interrupted him, frowning. "Dina told us that she needed to marry at once because, well, because you were going to steal her inheritance. But now I meet you, you seem such a nice, gentlemanly sort of man. Surely, you wouldn't really have behaved so infamously toward your sister?"
There was an awkward silence with all eyes on Mr. Moore. For a moment he seemed nonplussed, but then he smiled again. Thor narrowed his eyes, wondering how the rascal meant to wriggle out of this.
"Of course not," Silas said smoothly. "It was all a most unfortunate misunderstanding. She misinterpreted something she overheard and behaved somewhat impulsively as a result. Had she but asked, I would not have hesitated to tell her all. Dina and I were just sorting out the facts when your brother came downstairs and all is well between us now."
Violet smiled in obvious relief. "I am glad to hear it, Mr. Moore, for I should hate to think so ill of you—or for Dina to have reason to be estranged from her only brother. Perhaps the misunderstanding was for the best, however, since it has resulted in her marriage to Grant, which I cannot help but see as a happy outcome indeed."
"The workings of fate are always a mystery." Moore's smile seemed only the slightest bit strained. "But though it occurred under a misapprehension, if Dina is now happy in her marriage, I could not be more delighted for her. I presume you married her out of gallantry, Mr. Turpin?"
Thor did not bother to hide any skepticism that might show in his expression. "I suppose you could say that. It seemed the decent thing to do, under the circumstances, particularly given the favor she had done my sister—and our family—by preventing Violet's marriage to Mr. Plunkett."
Their breakfast arrived then, which served to partially smooth over the awkward moment. Thor was determined, however, that they would spend no more time at Ashcombe than was absolutely necessary. The less opportunity Mr. Moore had to speak privately with Dina—or Violet—the better.
Accordingly, after breakfast, he suggested that they all drive into Litchfield so that he, Dina and Mr. Moore could speak with the trustees and take care of whatever legalities Dina's new status required. Moore had no choice but to agree.