by Laura Landon
Quinn shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Well, then, what can I do for you?”
“I’m investigating the theft of some funds from Paxton Import and Export. The accused thief is Mr. Henry Dunston. I was wondering if Mr. Dunston is a patron of your bank. And if he is, how much money is in his account.”
“Do you represent Mr. Dunston, sir, or Paxton Import?”
“I represent Mr. Dunston, and if you require permission from Mr. Dunston, I can get it. I thought to speed things up by asking for your cooperation.”
Cromewell thought for a moment, then said, “Under ordinary circumstances I wouldn’t do this, but the reputation of the Bedford Street Brigade is above reproach.” Cromewell rose from his desk. “Let me get the information you need.”
The bank chairman left, and returned a few moments later with a large ledger. He opened it on his desk and scanned down the lines of the first page, then the second. He stopped in the middle of the third page. “Here it is.”
Quinn walked around the desk and looked at the line where Cromewell held his finger.
“It seems Mr. Dunston made a rather large deposit of one thousand pounds a week ago today.”
The muscles in Quinn’s stomach tightened. “Does it say who assisted Mr. Dunston when he came in?”
“Yes, the initials are PB. That would be Paul Bentley. Would you like to speak with him?”
“Yes, if I may.”
Cromewell left the room again and returned with another employee. “Mr. Bentley, this is Investigator Walker with the Bedford Street Brigade. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Certainly, sir. Is there something wrong?”
“No, Mr. Bentley,” Quinn said, trying to put the man at ease. The look of panic on his face was plain to see. “I’m just looking into a matter on behalf of a client of mine.”
“Of course,” the clerk said. “What matter is that?”
“This deposit of one thousand pounds to Mr. Henry Dunston. It happened one week ago.”
Bentley looked at the information in the ledger. “Ah, yes. I remember the transaction. It was a cash deposit into a separate account.”
“The account wasn’t an existing account?” Mr. Cromewell asked.
“No. The gentleman didn’t want it put into his existing account. I remember we had to open a new account for that amount.”
“Did Mr. Dunston open the account himself?” Quinn asked.
“I couldn’t say. I’d never met Mr. Dunston prior to this. I assumed it was. That’s how he signed the papers.”
“Would you happen to have those papers?”
“Why yes. Of course. They would be in his file.”
“Bring the file, Bentley,” Mr. Cromewell ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Bentley answered, then he left the room.
“Do you suspect foul play here, Mr. Walker?”
“That remains to be seen,” Quinn said, but he certainly hoped so. If this was on the level, Henry Dunston didn’t stand a chance in hell of proving his innocence.
Before long, Mr. Bentley returned with Dunston’s file. It wasn’t a thick file, since it didn’t contain many transactions. He placed the file on Mr. Cromewell’s desk and opened it. The top copy was the most recent, and Bentley handed it to Mr. Cromewell who glanced at it, then handed it to Quinn.
Bentley thumbed through the other papers and handed another sheet to Cromewell. “This is Mr. Dunston’s signature from a year ago.” He handed Quinn the second sheet.
Quinn’s heart pounded as he compared the two documents.
“The two signatures appear remarkably similar, Mr. Walker,” Cromewell said.
“Yes, they do,” Quinn answered. “Whoever forged the second document did a damn good job.”
CHAPTER 5
It was late afternoon before Quinn opened the wrought iron gate that led to number 16 Castle Street. His feet moved faster as he made his way to the door Nellie held open for him.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he said after she closed the door then took his hat.
“Cora and Mack were here until just a short while ago. And your friend Jack has been here all day.”
Quinn placed his hands on her upper arms and brought her to him. After the way he’d found her this morning, he had to touch her. Had to assure himself she was all right. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Cora made me rest most of the morning, but I couldn’t stay in my room after we ate lunch so I came down and started putting the house back to order. Thank heavens they didn’t break too much. It was just a matter of putting things back where they belonged.”
Quinn followed Nellie through the house to the kitchen. “Supper is almost ready. I’ve made enough for your friend to join us.”
“He’ll like that. It’s not often we get to sit down for a meal when we’re on guard duty.”
“Why don’t you get him, then you can tell us what you discovered that put that worrisome frown on your face. From the dark look in your eyes, your news isn’t good.”
Quinn tried to smile, but knew his attempt wasn’t reassuring. “I don’t know if I should be happy that you can read me so well, or worried. It’s not every man who wants to be so transparent.”
He lifted his hand and tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “I’ll get Jack, so we can wash up before we eat. Then I’ll tell you what I found out today.”
Quinn left through the back door. He found Jack leaning against a large oak tree, watching the street. “Anything unusual?”
Jack turned. “No. It’s been quiet so far. Are you expecting trouble?”
Quinn shook his head. “I don’t know. They obviously didn’t find what they were looking for, so they’ll either be back to search the house again, or move on to other places the ledger might be.”
“Any ideas where those places might be?”
“No.”
Quinn stood with Jack in the late afternoon sunshine. Each watched a different area that surrounded the house.
“Are you going to tell me what has you so concerned,” Jack asked, “or keep it to yourself?”
“No, I’m going to tell you. But I want Nellie to hear it, too. She has supper ready. I’ll tell you over the stew and fresh bread she has ready.”
“I can’t wait,” Jack said. “I smelled the stew cooking and the bread baking all afternoon. If I were the marrying type, I’d make an offer for her.”
Quinn’s feet halted and Jack nearly collided with him.
“Oh, I see I’ve struck on something here. Anything you’d care to share with me?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Never mind, friend. You can make excuses later. I’m starving, so let’s go inside and fill our stomachs with some of that stew.”
Quinn followed Jack inside. When they reached the kitchen, Nellie had the stew on the table and was slicing the bread.
“I’ve made a pitcher of lemonade. Is that all right, or would you rather have tea?”
“Lemonade is perfect,” Quinn answered. “I’ll get it.”
Quinn got the pitcher from the counter and poured the sweet lemon water while Jack took a chair. When they were seated, Jack and Quinn reached for their spoons.
“In this house we’ll say grace first,” Nellie said, and Jack and Quinn set their spoons back on the table.
“Of course,” they both whispered.
They bowed their heads and Nellie offered a simple blessing. When she finished, she lifted the ladle and dished them each a healthy serving of stew. The bread was still warm and melted the butter Quinn spread on it.
Jack and Quinn put the first spoonful of stew into their mouths at the same time, and stopped. Moans of appreciation echoed in the kitchen.
“Will you marry me, Nellie? I want to grow old and fat from eating your stew and bread. This is delicious.”
“Thank you, Mr. Conway. I appreciate your compliment.”
“You have to call me Jack. Since I�
�ll be eating at your table for the rest of my life, we might as well become acquainted.”
Nellie laughed. “Very well, Jack.”
A stabbing of jealousy pierced Quinn in the gut. He didn’t like the looks Jack and Nellie exchanged. He didn’t like the idea that Nellie could develop feelings for someone else. Yet, hadn’t he just told himself that he couldn’t allow himself to care for her? That developing a serious relationship with a woman was impossible?
Quinn lowered the spoon into his stew and took another bite. But, if he ever developed a serious relationship with a woman, that woman would be Nellie Sutton of Number 16 Castle Street.
Jack finished the last of the stew in his bowl and declined Nellie’s offer of a third helping, then shoved his bowl away from him and sat back in his chair. “Very well, Quinn. I’ve endured enough of your brooding. Tell us what you discovered today.”
Quinn took the last bite of his bread and washed it down with lemonade. When he finished, he turned his gaze to Nellie. “I discovered your brother-in-law recently opened a new account at the bank.”
Nellie’s surprise was obvious. “A new account?”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me guess. It was a very sizable account.”
Quinn nodded. “A thousand pounds.”
Nellie’s hand flew to her throat. “That’s impossible. Henry didn’t have a thousand pounds. There must be some mistake.”
“Oh, there’s no mistake. I saw the papers myself. I also saw Dunston’s signature. It was a darned good forgery.”
Nellie dropped her hands to her lap. “Forgery?”
“Yes. I matched it with one of your brother-in-law’s previous signatures. If I hadn’t been looking for any differences, I wouldn’t have found any.”
Nellie knotted the cloth in her lap. “What does this mean, Quinn?”
“It means someone is going to a lot of trouble to frame your brother-in-law.”
“But who?”
“I don’t know yet.” Quinn reached out and placed his hand atop Nellie’s. She was trembling, and although he knew he should release her, he couldn’t. She needed his comfort and support now more than ever.
He turned to Jack. “I need you to find out whatever you can about Carter Paxton.”
“You think he might be behind this?”
“It’s possible. I just don’t know why.”
“What are you going to do?”
Quinn smiled at Nellie. “Tomorrow, Miss Sutton and I are going to pay a visit to Paxton Import. Your brother-in-law told me he worked alongside a Phineas Wharton. Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s been a guest here often. Henry would invite him for dinner when he knew Eileen was making something special. He has no family, so he always enjoyed a home cooked meal.” Nellie paused. “Surely you don’t think Mr. Wharton is involved in this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him, which is why I’d like you to accompany me. I hope Mr. Wharton will be more receptive if you are there.”
“Of course.” Nellie placed her napkin on the table and rose. “Why don’t you take Jack into the study while I clean up here. Henry always kept a bottle of brandy there for special occasions. It’s in the small cupboard behind his desk. I’m sure he’d offer both of you a glass if he were here. I’ll clear the table and join you shortly.”
Jack and Quinn rose from the table, and went to the study. When they entered, Quinn closed the door and went to the small cupboard where Nellie said Dunston kept a bottle of brandy. He poured them each a glass, then handed one to Jack.
“Let’s hear it,” Jack said after taking a sip of his brandy. “You know something more you didn’t say in front of Nellie.”
Quinn lowered his glass to his knee. “Dunston dismissed me.”
“Dismissed you?” Jack shifted to face Quinn. “Bloody hell, why?”
“He said trying to defend him was futile. That he couldn’t afford to pay what he knew Bedford investigators charged when the courts would find him guilty in the end.”
“Who do you think got to him?”
Quinn leaned forward and rested his forearms atop his thighs. “I don’t know. But whoever it was, they scared the hell out of him. He insisted I stop now. He said he wanted his wife and children to stay in the country where they’d be safe.”
Quinn sat straight, then lifted his glass to his lips and took a swallow. “I’m sure someone paid Dunston a visit. Whoever it was convinced Dunston his only option was to take the blame for the missing money.”
“Well,” Jack said, “this case is getting more interesting by the minute. The only element that’s missing is a dead body.”
“Don’t say that. Things are bad enough without adding murder to the plot.”
“Whose murder?” Nellie asked from the doorway.
Quinn rose to his feet and stepped to Nellie’s side. Her face was washed of color, and her hands twisted the fabric of her dress. “There’s been no murder, Nellie. Nor will there be. Jack was just making a joke—a very poor joke.” Quinn gave Jack a narrow look.
“I’m sorry, Nellie. Quinn’s right. I sometimes forget how my words might sound to innocent ears.”
“That’s all right, Jack. I’m just overly sensitive right now.”
“Of course you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think I’ll go home for the night.” Jack turned to Quinn. “Unless you want me to stay.”
“No. I’ll take over now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out about Carter Paxton.” He turned again to Nellie. “Thank you for supper. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
Quinn walked Jack to the front door, then returned to where he’d left Nellie. “I’m sorry you overheard Jack’s comment. We sometimes forget how our words might sound to anyone else.”
“It’s all right. I shouldn’t be so sensitive.”
“That’s only natural right now.” He took her arm. “Come with me. We need to enjoy this beautiful evening.”
“I’d love that.”
Quinn led Nellie through the door that led to the garden. The sun was beginning to set, but there was still enough light to see clearly.
“Do you think we’ll discover who hid the money here?”
“Yes.”
“What about the ledger? Who do you think has the ledger? And why do you think it’s so important?”
Quinn led Nellie to the same bench where they’d sat the night before. “I don’t know who has the ledger, but I think it’s the key to why someone is trying to make everyone believe your brother-in-law is a thief. I think it contains something someone doesn’t want anyone to find.”
Nellie wrapped her arms around her middle. “Oh, I wish this was over. I wish everything was the way it was before.”
Quinn knew how close Nellie was to tears. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gathered her to him. If this had never happened, he wouldn’t be here with his arm around the prettiest woman in London. If everything was the way it was before, a particularly compelling kiss would never have happened.
“It will be over soon.”
She turned into him and tipped her head back. “Do you think so?”
“I do,” he said, then lowered his head and kissed her.
After last night, he told himself he wouldn’t kiss her again. But how could he stop himself when the sun was nearly gone and it was turning into such a perfect evening? How could he when she needed his comfort so badly, and he needed hers even more? How could he, when all he could think of was how he’d miss having her in his arms when this case was over?
Quinn deepened his kiss. He opened his mouth over hers and sought what she’d hinted at giving him before.
Her mouth was a warm cavern that echoed all the passion that lay hidden inside her. His tongue sought hers, touched hers, danced with hers. The longer he kissed her, the more desperate he became to possess her. The longer he held her, the more determined he was to keep her near
him. The longer she remained in his arms, the more reluctant he was to ever let her go.
Quinn kissed her once more, then lifted his mouth from hers. Her breathing was as ragged as his. Her gasping breaths as frantic.
Quinn held her close, knowing that neither of them had the strength to stand on their own. Knowing that neither of them wanted to release the other.
“Do you know what’s happening between us?” she whispered.
He shook his head, but that was the only answer he could manage.
“Do you regret where we’re going?”
“No, lass. I don’t regret it.”
“But things between us are going down a path you didn’t intend to travel. Aren’t they?”
Quinn couldn’t help but smile. “Aye, lass. Things have taken a turn I didn’t intend to take.”
She pressed her cheek against his chest and nestled close to him. “Don’t worry, Quinn. I don’t expect anything from you. I knew what you were able to give from the day I first met you.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, and it’s all right.”
“No regrets?” Quinn’s heart stuttered inside his chest while he waited for her answer.
“No, Quinn. No regrets.”
Quinn held her in his arms for several long minutes. He didn’t want to let her go. Because when he did, he knew he’d be the one left with regrets.
A lifetime filled with regrets.
CHAPTER 6
Nellie rose early and had breakfast waiting when Quinn came in. The tired look in his eyes told her he’d gotten as little sleep as she had.
She wanted to explain to him that she understood why he considered the risks he took too great to expect a wife to live with the possibility of losing her husband. But she loved him so much, she was convinced she could risk anything for his love.
She’d fallen in love with him months ago when he’d begun gracing every day with his smiles from across the bakery counter, and these past few days—even with all the horrid ugliness that had intruded into her life—had set her heart singing.
But during the middle of the night, when the world was its blackest, and bleakest, she wasn’t sure she could survive if he was taken away from her. She loved him so much that she wasn’t sure she could live one day without him. And yet, the voice of reason inside her head told her that even one day with the man she loved was better than none.