She heard no more as she entered the house and hastily told Tildon she’d left something in the garden. The butler favored her with an odd look, but she continued on, practically running across the foyer then toward the drawing room, where she exited the house.
The instant she hit the flagstone terrace, she hiked up her skirts and ran, Matthew’s father’s final words reverberating through her mind. Golden flower, golden flower…Dear God, if she were right…
By the time she reached the hidden alcove where Flora gently spilled water from her urn, Sarah’s lungs felt ready to explode. Breathing hard, she dropped to her knees and, heedless of the bits of gravel digging into her skin through her gown, began to examine the base of the statue, running her fingers over every inch of the stone. Hope burned through her veins, growing stronger with every rapid heart beat. She had to be right. Had to be.
She’d completed nearly a quarter of the way around the circumference when she noticed a crack in the stone. A crack that appeared too perfectly straight to have occurred naturally. Scarcely able to breathe, she applied her fingers to the thin opening and discovered a small, rectangular-shaped section that appeared to be loose.
She tried to pry it farther apart, but quickly realized she’d require some sort of tool. Jumping to her feet, she cast her gaze about for something, anything, a stick that might aid her, but a hasty search yielded nothing. Damnation, she’d have to return to the house. Or—the groundskeeper’s cottage was closer. She’d caught a glimpse of Paul working at the other end of the garden during her mad dash across the terrace, which meant he wasn’t at the cottage. Which suited her, as she didn’t wish to answer any questions. She’d just borrow a tool or a knife and he’d never be the wiser.
She’d just turned in that direction when she heard footfalls crunching in the gravel. Based on the sound, clearly a man. A man in a hurry. Seconds later that man appeared, skidding to a halt at the sight of her.
Sarah stared. In stunned amazement. At Matthew.
Chest heaving, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
She blinked twice to make certain it was truly him and not some figment of her broken-hearted imagination. When he didn’t disappear, she moistened her dust dry lips. “What are you doing here?”
Matthew drew several deep, calming breaths, then slowly approached her. She appeared to be frozen in place. When an arm’s length separated them, he stopped. And forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. If he didn’t, he’d give into the craving to pull her into his arms, and if he did, he’d lose all hope of saying all the things he needed to.
“I’m here because there’s something I need to tell you, Sarah.”
She appeared to shake off whatever manner of trance she’d fallen into at the sight of him. “Matthew, I’m so glad you’re here. I think I’ve—”
He touched gentle fingertips to her lips. “I can’t let another second go by without telling you that I love you.”
When he’d stopped her from continuing, she appeared about to argue with him, but now her eyes widened. “You love me?”
“I love you. So much I can barely think straight. I was halfway to London when I realized I couldn’t do it.”
“Do what?”
Unable to keep from touching her, he clasped her hands, entwining their fingers. “Continue to London.”
“So you came back. And I’m so glad you did because I’ve—”
“No. I didn’t come back.”
She raised her brows and gave him a pointed up and down stare. “Yet all evidence indicates the contrary.”
“I mean I did come back. Obviously. But not right away. I paid a visit to your family before returning home.”
“That’s wonderful. I must tell you—” Her words cut off as his clearly sank in. “My family?”
“Yes. Instead of continuing to London, I visited your parents.”
“But why? I cannot fathom a single reason why you would do that.”
His lips twitched at her familiar saying. “Don’t worry. I can fathom enough reasons for the both of us.”
“I’d be fascinated to know even one of these reasons.”
“Actually, there is only one reason.” He lifted one of her hands and pressed a kiss against her fingers. “I told them I wished to marry their daughter.”
He searched her eyes for her reaction, hoping to see joy. Instead, he saw complete and utter shock. In fact, her skin went totally pale. Not precisely the reaction he’d hoped for. When she remained silent, he said, “The only other time I’ve ever seen a more flabbergasted expression was in your parents’ parlor several hours ago.”
“I…I cannot imagine that they were more shocked than I am.”
“Well, at first I admit there was a bit of confusion.”
“I imagine so.”
“They assumed the daughter I wished to marry was your sister.”
She blinked. Then nodded. “Yes, I’m certain they would assume that.”
“When I told them I meant their daughter Sarah—”
“I’m certain my mother didn’t believe you.”
“As a matter of fact, she didn’t.” Matthew’s jaw tightened as he recalled his conversation with Sarah’s mother. Her lips had puckered like a drawstring and she’d basically told him he was a fool to even look at Sarah when Carolyn was so very lovely.
He’d taken a great deal of satisfaction in giving the woman who’d shown so little kindness toward Sarah the set-down she so richly deserved. He made certain she understood that he’d tolerate no such disparaging comments in the future or further insults against Sarah, who, she’d be wise to recall, would soon be Marchioness Langston. Sarah’s father had remained silent during the entire exchange. When it was over, however, he’d shot Matthew an approving look. Indeed, he looked as if he wanted to applaud.
“Although your mother didn’t believe me at first, I managed to convince her I meant you. And only you. Always you.” His gaze searched hers, and the stunned confusion in her eyes prompted him to say, “And now, it seems, I need to convince you.”
Lifting their joined hands, he pressed them to his chest. “Sarah, I fell in love with you in this very spot, the first time we spoke. Since that moment, you haven’t been out of my thoughts for so much as a second. Your eyes, your smile, they grabbed me by the heart, and I’ve been yours since that day.
“I kept fooling myself into thinking I could walk away, make a life without you, marry someone else to save the estate my father gambled into the ground. And I did a good job of convincing myself I could do it—until I actually had to walk away. In fact, I made it two hours down the road before I realized what a complete nincompoop I was.”
He looked into her beautiful eyes, which still appeared stunned. “I love you, Sarah. I know I’m asking you to take on the life of an impoverished peer, but I swear I will do everything in my power to make certain you’re always comfortable. I’ll do my utmost to see that the tenants are compensated and that the estate doesn’t fall down around our ears—but you need to know that there will definitely be difficult financial times ahead. There’s a good chance there will always be financial difficulties. If I’m unsuccessful in paying off what my father owed, I may even face debtors’ prison.”
Her eyes flashed at that. “If anyone tries to take you to prison, they’d have to get through me first.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t realize you were such a fighter.”
“I’ve never had anything to fight for. Until now.” She slid one hand from his and rested her palm against his cheek. “I love you too. So much I can hardly stand it.”
“Excellent. I’m very relieved it’s not just me.”
He lowered himself to one knee before her. “Deathbed promise or no, I cannot, will not, marry anyone other than you. Sarah, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her eyes glittered and her bottom lip trembled. Bloody hell, he knew what that meant—tears were on the way. He hastily stood, and the i
nstant he did, she threw her arms around his neck. Then she buried her face against his chest and cried as if her heart were breaking.
A feeling akin to panic invaded him. Damn it, this sobbing was worse than mere tears. He patted her back and pressed desperate kisses against her hair. “Dare I hope this is your very unusual way of saying yes?”
She lifted her head, and tenderness stabbed him through the heart. Her golden brown eyes looked like wet topaz jewels glittering behind her askew spectacles.
“Yes,” she whispered, then laughed, a quick spurt of joyous sound that brought with it a flash of dimples. “Yes!”
Elation swept through him and he slanted his mouth over hers for a deep, lush kiss filled with love and passion and hope for the future. Just as he was losing himself in the taste of her, however, she pushed against his chest.
After he reluctantly lifted his head, she said, “Matthew, I must tell you—there’s still hope.”
He bent his head to trail his lips along her fragrant neck. “I know. Now that you’ve said yes—”
She shook her head and her chin bumped his temple. “No—I mean hope that we might find the money.”
He straightened and looked at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“After pondering your father’s last words and a conversation I had with my sister just a little while ago, an idea occurred to me. While talking to Carolyn, I referred to this area as a ‘hidden garden within a garden.’ It struck me that is very close to your father’s words: ‘garden, in garden.’ Did you search here?”
“No.” He extended his hand to encompass the area. “It’s surrounded by hedges. There aren’t any ferns. Nothing that resembles a fleur-de-lis or an iris. Nor are there any golden flowers.”
“Exactly. But perhaps the problem all along was looking for some sort of golden flower. You said it was very difficult to understand what your father was saying. What if he wasn’t saying ‘golden flower’ at all.” Her eyes took on an excited glow. “He said there was a fortune, and clearly you assumed, as I did, that meant notes. Paper money. But what if the fortune wasn’t in notes but in gold. As in gold coins. What if he was really saying ‘gold in Flora’—meaning the gold was hidden in the fountain?”
Matthew frowned, casting his mind back to those last moments of his father’s life. Then he nodded slowly, a kindling of hope flaring to life inside him. “It’s possible.”
“As soon as it occurred to me, I rushed here. I was examining the base of the fountain and I found a crack and a loose section of stone just before you arrived. I think the money may be hidden behind it.”
He stared at her, dumbstruck. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
She looked skyward. “I tried to tell you—several times—but you were too busy proposing. Not that I’m complaining, you understand.”
A bark of amazed laughter escaped him, and he caught her up in his arms and spun her around. After setting her back on her feet, he said, “Have I told you lately that you’re brilliant?”
“Actually, I don’t believe you’ve ever told me that.”
“A heinous oversight on my part. You are absolutely brilliant. Thank God you’ve agreed to marry me so I can spend the rest of my life telling you so every day.”
“No point in saying I’m brilliant until we know if I’m right.”
“Even if you’re not, it was still a brilliant bit of deduction. Now where’s that loose stone?”
Taking him by the hand, she led him toward the front of the fountain then knelt and pointed. “See the crack and loose stone?”
“I do indeed.” Excitement rippled through him. Slipping his knife from his boot, he applied the blade to the thin line. For several minutes the only sounds were the trickling fountain and the scraping of the knife against the stone.
“It’s coming loose,” he said, unable to keep the anticipation from his voice. He set down the knife and managed to wedge a fingertip on either side of the stone. By rocking it back and forth, little by little he eased it out.
“Almost there,” he said, getting a better grip on the coarse rock. A moment later the brick-sized stone slid out to reveal a dark opening. Matthew looked at Sarah, whose gaze was fixated on the cavity.
“I think you should have the honors,” he said, nodding toward the hole.
She shook her head. “No. You look. It’s your fortune.”
“We’ll look together since it’s our fortune.”
“All right.”
They were about to each reach a hand into the dark opening when a voice behind them said, “A lovely sentiment, but actually, it’s my fortune.”
Matthew pivoted around and found himself staring into familiar eyes. But instead of the friendship he was accustomed to seeing there, undisguised hatred now glittered—a sentiment rendered even more obvious by the pistol aimed at the center of his chest.
Chapter 19
Keeping his gaze steady on those cold blue eyes, Matthew said calmly, “Well, this is a surprise.”
“A pleasant one—for me. I’d given up hope of recovering the money your father stole from me. Now, I want you both to stand—very slowly and very quietly. And Matthew, if I see you reach for that knife, I’ll blow a big hole right through Moorehouse.” Lord Berwick shook his head and made a tsking sound. “And I know you wouldn’t like that.”
Moving with excruciating care, Matthew rose, his mind searching for an escape. He fought against his first and strongest instinct, which was to step in front of Sarah. If Berwick fired the pistol at this close range, he could possibly kill both of them with his one shot. Better that the pistol remained aimed at him.
As soon as they’d both gained their feet, Berwick said to him, “Kick the knife toward me. Get it close enough so I can reach it.”
Matthew obeyed, then watched Berwick pick up the blade.
“Thank you. Now hands on top of your heads, if you please.”
“So polite,” Matthew said dryly, raising his arms.
“There’s no reason not to behave in a gentlemanly manner.”
“Excellent. Then let the lady go.”
Berwick shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. She’d raise the alarm, and that would turn this very simple transaction into a debacle.” He looked briefly at Sarah. “If you move or make a sound, I’ll shoot him. Do you understand?”
From the corner of his eye Matthew saw Sarah nod. He wanted to look at her, somehow reassure her, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Berwick.
“You cannot possibly think you’re going to get away with this,” he said.
“But of course I will. I’m going to take back my money, which your father stole from me, then depart.”
“My father possessed many bad habits but he wasn’t a thief. He won the money gambling.”
“But he won it from me. It was my money.” Anger flashed across his features. “I wasn’t supposed to lose. I couldn’t lose. I’d sold everything I could to get that money—it was everything I had. I needed to triple it to get out of debt. And I would have—if your stupid father, who hardly ever won, hadn’t been struck by the most incredible streak of luck I’ve ever witnessed. It was as if he couldn’t lose. And I couldn’t win. And that wasn’t at all the way the game was supposed to go.”
Matthew nodded. “I see. So you invited him for a game, planning to fleece him. Rather pointless, as he didn’t have any money to lose.”
“Oh, but he did. He bragged about recently having won a huge sum. The game was to be just the two of us. Very high stakes. And I was supposed to win.” Berwick narrowed his eyes at Matthew. “And I should have gotten it back. I would have, except he didn’t have it with him in the carriage as he should have. So I made him pay. With his life.”
Everything inside Matthew stilled as realization hit him like a brick to the head. “You…You were the highwayman who shot him.”
The fury burning in Berwick’s eyes transformed his features from handsome to demonic, but it didn’t be
gin to match the fury gripping Matthew. “He deserved nothing less. He should have had the money with him, but he didn’t. I don’t know how he disposed of it, but somehow he did. I kept waiting to hear after his death that you’d paid off his debts, but after several months passed and you hadn’t, I realized you either didn’t know about the money or, if you did, you didn’t know where it was located.
“Then I began hearing interesting rumors. About you becoming reclusive, not venturing off the estate, eschewing Society—and all due to a sudden passionate interest in horticulture.” Berwick smiled, a cold upturning of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “Very interesting, as I know that flowers made you sneeze.”
“Not all flowers, only roses,” Matthew corrected.
Berwick merely shrugged. “I realized that you must be looking for the money in the garden. Over the past several weeks I’ve observed your late night digging sessions, waiting for you to find what is mine so I could take it back.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “You killed Tom Willstone.”
Berwick shrugged again. “Unfortunately for him, he saw me in the woods that night. Threatened to tell you I was trespassing. I couldn’t risk him doing so.”
Keep him talking. Surely if they stayed out here long enough someone would come looking for them. But Matthew feared it might be quite some time. After he’d arrived at the house and been told by Lady Wingate that Sarah was in the garden, he’d sent Daniel a meaningful look. There was no doubt in his mind that his friend understood that he wanted some privacy with Sarah. Therefore, Daniel would do his utmost to ensure that they weren’t disturbed for as long as possible.
But Berwick didn’t know that. If he kept him talking long enough, surely the bastard would make a mistake. And all Matthew needed was one tiny mistake.
“So your discovery that I was looking for the money is why you wished for an invitation to my house party,” he said in a conversational tone.
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