by Cheryl Holt
“Soloman and I will unravel it.”
“Does Miss Fenwick want money? Is that her game? Would she like us to pay her to go away? If that’s her ploy, we should learn her price, don’t you think? If we pay it, she’ll take him and vanish. We won’t have to fuss with this.”
All of those potential issues were rocking him, but he planned to dissect them with Soloman, not his mother. “There’s a problem with that scenario, Mother.”
“What is it?”
“What if he’s Caleb? Should we bribe her to flee with him?”
A lengthy silence played out, and he could practically read her mind. She’d been desperate for so long for Benjamin to be earl that she’d probably be delighted if Caleb vanished again. But Benjamin wouldn’t listen to such a repugnant opinion, and she realized that he wouldn’t.
“You still haven’t told me how you met her,” she said. “Why and how has she entered our lives—right at this moment when she can cause the most disruption?”
“Her brother is a friend of Wesley’s.”
“I don’t remember Wesley having a friend named Fenwick.”
“I doubt you’re aware of all his friends.”
He could have explained that Michael Fenwick was a confidence artist and gambler, that he’d been using the surname Boswell, but Benjamin didn’t want to have that discussion with her. It was a facet of the whole situation that was vexing him.
Michael was a boastful liar. Was Annabel a liar too, but a more furtive one? A smoother and quieter one?
“Where has this child been all these years?” Millicent asked. “Who are his parents? Where has he resided? What was his name?”
“He’s been raised as Harry Boswell.”
Again, he could have provided information about Lydia and the Boswells, but he would discuss it with Soloman. Not her. No matter what specifics he supplied, she would never be satisfied.
“Boswell? I heard mention of them recently. Where?” She pondered then said, “Is this the merchant’s family? Edward Boswell and his kin?”
“Yes, I believe that’s them.”
“He is an upstanding member of the community. He’d never involve himself in such a havey-cavey business.”
“He never knew about it. It was perpetrated by a daughter-in-law who was having some trouble.”
“She just magically ended up with Caleb as her son?” Benjamin didn’t reply, and she scoffed. “I demand you consider carefully before you do anything stupid.”
“Trust me, Mother. I won’t do anything stupid.”
“Let me talk to Miss Fenwick. I’ll offer her a bribe, and we’ll see how she responds. That will tell us what we need to know about her.”
“We’re not bribing anyone, Mother. In fact, I’m ordering you to stay out of it.”
She tsked with irritation. “You act as if this has naught to do with me.”
“It doesn’t really. It’s my future and my issue.”
“Oh, you are so wrong. It’s a family issue.”
They might have quarreled further, but Addington knocked and peeked in.
“Your cousin, Soloman, is here, Captain.”
“Show him in Addington.” The man tottered off, and he glared at his mother. “Will that be all, Mother?”
“No.”
“I have to meet with Soloman.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll permit me to sit in on your conversation.”
Benjamin actually laughed. “No, I won’t permit you.”
“You don’t have to be rude,” she sniffed.
“No, I don’t, but when you push me to my limit, I can’t help myself. Now please leave. Soloman is aware that you lied as to my whereabouts the last time he stopped by. I’m positive he has no desire to speak with you.”
Her cheeks flushed bright red, but whether from anger at his high-handed manner or embarrassment at having her duplicity revealed, it was difficult to guess.
She stood and stomped out, tossing over her shoulder, “We’re not done discussing this.”
“I eagerly await the opportunity to learn more of your opinions.”
Thankfully, she continued on, and a minute later Soloman entered the room. Benjamin watched him approach, and he sighed with an odd sort of resignation. Where would this all lead?
If they decided Annabel was telling the truth, Benjamin would be greatly affected, but Soloman even more so. He’d always insisted he’d never harmed Caleb, but no one had believed him. He’d been called murderer and brother-killer. The monikers had haunted him for a decade.
What if they could finally cast them aside? What if he could shed the past? The prospect presented so many benefits.
“I came as fast as I could,” Soloman said. “Your message claimed it was urgent, and since you dragged me away from Theo it had better be.”
Benjamin gestured to the sideboard. “Pour us both a drink and sit down.”
Soloman stumbled to a halt. He studied Benjamin, but Benjamin kept his face blank, not giving any emotion away so Soloman poured two whiskeys. Then he returned and shoved one across the desk.
As he seated himself, he said, “Is it bad enough that I need to drink first? Or is it more important that I’m sitting down? With what you’re about to confide, am I likely to fall down when I hear it?”
“Maybe.”
Benjamin motioned with his glass, and they downed the contents then Soloman said, “Well? Let me have it.”
Benjamin inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it. Once he voiced the words aloud, nothing would ever be the same.
“I might have found Caleb,” he quietly said.
Soloman froze then gasped. “Alive?”
“Definitely alive.”
“Holy shit.”
“My feeling exactly.”
SOLOMAN GAPED AT HIS cousin, listening to the details of Miss Fenwick’s story. There was such credible resonance to it: a distressed, grieving mother who’d been out of her mind with worry and fear. She’d taken Caleb to replace the child she’d lost. It made so much sense.
Originally, he’d expected it was a kidnapping for ransom, but when no ransom request was ever delivered he’d been forced to accept that Caleb had been taken for a different reason entirely. Miss Fenwick’s explanation fit perfectly.
“What do you think?” he asked his cousin. “Could it be true?”
“It could be.”
“But it might not be too.”
“Yes. It might not be.” Benjamin scowled. “Do you recall what was stolen from the cradle that day? Weren’t there some items missing?”
“There was a blanket and a few of his toys. The nanny carried a leather satchel when they went out. It was missing too—or so she claimed. Melinda and I were so upset that we didn’t believe her.”
“Melinda blamed the nanny.”
“Yes, and I did too.”
“Would you recognize the items again if you saw them?”
“Yes, why?”
“Miss Fenwick insists she has the satchel.”
“My goodness.”
“She showed me a tiny cap. It had the name Caleb embroidered on it.”
“Yes, he wore a little cap, and his blanket had the word Lyndon embroidered around the edge. Melinda demanded it. Everything was embroidered with Caleb or Lyndon.”
“Were the newspapers ever notified about the missing items? Was there ever a list or description published?”
“No, never,” Soloman said.
“So...a disreputable person couldn’t have produced fakes. It makes me feel better about Miss Fenwick, and it also makes me more intrigued.”
“Have you met him?” Soloman inquired.
“Oh, yes.”
“What is your opinion? Does he look like us? Could he be Caleb?”
“My first and very shocked impression was that he had to be your son. I figured Miss Fenwick was his mother, rather than his aunt, and she had had an affair with you when she was younger. That’s how much he resembles you.”
“Ask her! I actually accused her of having been your lover.”
Soloman chuckled. “I don’t imagine it went over very well.”
“No, it didn’t. She was livid.”
“Miss Fenwick aside, he looks like me?”
“Exactly like you. He also walks like you and talks like you. He has a scar on his hand where the dog bit him. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember. Melinda was so angry she had the gardener shoot it.”
“Yes.”
“I want to meet him.”
“I thought you would. I told Miss Fenwick we’d stop by tomorrow.”
“I want to go now.”
“I must counsel against our rushing into this.”
“So what if I’m rushing? I’ve been trying to solve this mystery for ten years. I’m so bloody eager I can’t stand it.”
“We have to evaluate all the facts prior to our blustering forward. I think we’d both like it to be him so we need to proceed cautiously.”
“I certainly would like it to be him,” Soloman said. “I freely admit it, but I can’t speak for you. If he’s really Caleb, you’ll be relinquishing quite a lot.”
”I would be, but if he’s Caleb none of it is mine, and I hope I wouldn’t scheme against a child. I hope I’m a bigger man than that.”
“I hope you are too.”
“We should spend the evening making some lists.”
“About what?”
“About what we know and what we don’t. We have to interrogate Mrs. Boswell’s companion, Peggy Jones, but we should separate her from Miss Fenwick. We should bring her here and question her—without Miss Fenwick interfering. That way, we’ll have a clearer idea of her veracity.”
“I agree,” Soloman said. “Our preparations will take some time. I should send a note to Theo. She was going shopping to purchase some clothes before we head to Grey Manor.”
He and Benjamin had decided it was the perfect place for him to hide with Theo while they resolved the issue of where and when and how to wed. Earlier that morning, the hotel proprietor had threatened to toss their belongings out on the street if they didn’t vacate the premises. They’d grown too notorious, and Soloman would be delighted to leave the city.
“The poor girl doesn’t have any clothes?” Benjamin asked.
“I carried her out of her father’s house in her undergarments.”
“You’re not providing her with much of a positive glimpse of what it will be like to have you as a husband.”
“I know, but she claims she loves me anyway.”
“Can’t you get some things from her own closet?”
“Her father won’t let us. He’s a tad vexed with her.”
“I always heard he’s an ass.”
“He is.”
“Invite her to supper,” Benjamin said.
“I will, and I’d like her to participate in our discussions. She’ll have many pertinent comments.”
He poured himself another whiskey and drank it down. He poured yet another and downed that one too. He brought the decanter to the desk and filled their glasses. As he eased down in his chair, he was practically staggering.
It was the news he’d been waiting to receive for a decade that had seemed to last an eternity. It was the news that would vindicate him, that would erase all the scandal and ruin that had been heaped on his shoulders.
Caleb could live at Lyndon Hall—where he belonged. Soloman and Theo could live with him there, and Theo could help Soloman finish raising him. She could smooth over any edges that had been roughened during his time with Mrs. Boswell. She and Soloman could create a family with Caleb, and he and Soloman could become the brothers their father had expected them to be.
“I can’t believe it.” He sighed and smiled. “I never thought this day would arrive.”
“Well, don’t believe it yet, but let’s cross our fingers.”
“I feel in my bones that it will turn out to be true.”
“Here’s hoping,” Benjamin said.
“Here’s hoping indeed.”
Soloman leaned over, and they clinked their glasses together.
“To Caleb,” Soloman said.
“To Miss Fenwick for approaching me.”
“To my father. I miss him, and I think he’s watching over me for a change.”
“I miss him too,” Benjamin said, “but don’t talk about him or you’ll have me blubbering like a baby.”
“Caleb...” Soloman mused. “Maybe he’s finally home.”
“Maybe,” Benjamin agreed.
WESLEY WAS WALKING DOWN the hall at Grey Manor, the urgent letter from his mother clutched in his hand.
Your brother is mad! Come to London at once! I can’t deal with this alone!
She was prone to hysterics, and he’d usually obliged her. With Benjamin being away in the army for so many years, Wesley had had a special responsibility to look after her, but he was tired of being the dutiful son. After she’d betrothed Benjamin to Veronica, his patience had been exhausted.
His mother would have to cope with Benjamin on her own. Wesley vividly understood that—whatever Benjamin had done—Wesley could have no effect on the problem. Benjamin viewed Wesley as a child and treated him like an inconsequential boy.
Benjamin had ordered Wesley to evict the guests and shut down the party, but Wesley had decided to ignore his brother. He’d gone to an enormous amount of trouble to arrange the fete for Benjamin, but his ungrateful brother had barely attended. He’d barely socialized. He’d simply criticized every detail then spent most of his time seducing Michael’s sister.
Well, he and Michael were having great fun without Benjamin, and as Michael had curtly pointed out, what Benjamin didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“I had to see you again. I couldn’t stay away.”
The woman’s words wafted by from a nearby parlor, and Wesley stopped and frowned. He could have sworn it was Veronica’s voice, but there was no reason for her to be at Grey Manor. After she’d pulled her stunt and shown up unannounced, Benjamin had been very stern with her so she wouldn’t dare return. He had to be mistaken.
“You’re courting disaster,” a man replied.
Was it Michael? Could it be? As they continued to speak, Wesley’s frown deepened.
“I don’t care if I’m courting disaster. I’m so fond of you, and it’s left me so confused. All of my choices have been wrong.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You make me so happy! I didn’t realize I was unhappy. What am I to do?”
“I’m sure I’m not the one to advise you.”
“But you can’t avoid me. I should have some say in the matter, shouldn’t I?”
The conversation ceased, the room suddenly quiet, and Wesley’s spirits flagged. Obviously, Veronica and Michael were in the parlor. In order to verify the discovery, he had to peek in, but he couldn’t bear to look.
He’d known Veronica his whole life, and he’d known Michael for several months. He assumed he grasped their genuine characters, but did he really?
Veronica had engaged herself to Benjamin even though she’d recognized how it would kill Wesley. Michael had been using a false surname to conceal his identity from Wesley. Wesley had tolerated both situations without argument or question.
Why was he such a milksop? Why was he such an easy mark, a gullible friend? He was twenty-two. Would he ever grow up?
He reached for the knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open. He felt as if he was out of his body, as if some other hapless stranger was about to burst in on them. What would he find?
They were over by the hearth, kissing quite avidly, and clearly it wasn’t their first embrace. How advanced was the affair? How long had they carried on? Most importantly, was Veronica still in the sort of maidenly condition suitable to being Benjamin’s countess?
Wesley crossed the floor, and they were so engrossed that they didn’t notice h
e’d arrived. He was a few feet away when he said, “My, my, this is interesting.”
Veronica jumped away as if she’d been scalded, but Michael simply grinned.
“Hello, Wesley. Have you been spying on us?”
Veronica was a bit more agitated. “I can explain.”
Wesley shook his head. “There’s no need.”
“No, no,” she fervidly stated, “I have to explain. You must let me.”
“I don’t think I am the one who requires an explanation. I’m positive the injured party is Benjamin.”
“No one is injured,” Veronica said.
“We’re just friends,” Michael claimed. “Veronica wanted us to be more than that, but I’ve convinced her it’s not possible.”
“You’re blaming me?” she huffed. “You chased after me until you caught me.”
Wesley refused to learn any intimate details of their relationship. “I don’t care to be apprised about any of it.”
“You have to understand.” Veronica’s tone was pleading and solicitous.
He looked at Michael. “You should probably leave now.”
“Will we quarrel over her?” Michael was cool and unflappable. “I’ve never thought two chums should allow a mere woman to come between them.”
“A mere woman!” Veronica was indignant, but they ignored her.
“This is different, Michael,” Wesley said, “and you can’t stay here. Benjamin might kill you when he finds out. He might literally kill you so it’s better if you go immediately.”
Veronica sucked in a sharp breath. “You can’t tell Benjamin, Wesley.” She laid a hand on his arm in a way that once would have thrilled him. “Please don’t, Wesley! Swear to me you won’t!”
Yet Wesley couldn’t swear. He had no idea how to proceed. Benjamin was such a pompous ass. Perhaps he deserved Veronica. If she was a loose flirt, why was it Wesley’s job to inform his brother?
“Why are you at Grey Manor, Veronica?” he said instead. “Benjamin sent you home with orders not to return.”
“Michael and I had some unfinished business.”