by Desconocido
“Ah, aye, he did tell me that.” Penelope pointed to the floor. “Third board from the left wall. Under it.”
“You think this Charles wanted that?” asked Dobson.
“He is my stepbrother, and with Mr. Earnshaw’s assistance, I believe he has been stealing from me for years. That is why we came to see Mr. Earnshaw today. To confront him.”
“Then why’d he take everything else?”
“Because he thought the papers he wanted were there? Or mayhap he wanted to confuse whoever found Mr. Earnshaw’s body.” She frowned. “Or Charles might have thought he could find something of interest in Earnshaw’s papers. Knowing my stepbrother, he would not hesitate to blackmail someone.”
Dobson scratched his cheek and nodded. “Blackmail can fill your coffers fast. Too bad you did not get that surname. Could end this all right now.” He frowned at Argus and Ashton, who were trying to pry up the floorboard with dented fireplace tools. “Hey, you two weak-bellied women,” he yelled to his men, “get in here and help these fellows.”
Penelope left the room with Olympia as the men set to work. Once outside, she took a deep breath. The air in London was not sweet but she needed to clear the stench of death from her nose.
“At least now we are sure it is Charles,” said Olympia.
“True. I just wish Earnshaw had given me the cursed surname, or at least mentioned the word ‘baron.’” Penelope sighed. “Not that it would have done me much good in trying to charge Charles with a crime. I certainly could not tell a judge that a ghost told me.”
“No. Just as I could not tell a judge that I saw it all in the shadows. Penelope, about Radmoor—”
“I love him, Auntie. Even when he is being a little pompous, I love him. He has stood by me and helped me in every way he could. He and his friends.”
“I know. What I was going to say was, if you do end up with money, enough money to help him and his family, are you going to wonder if that is why he marries you?”
“I had not considered that until now,” grumbled Penelope and gave her aunt a cross look.
“Mayhap you should.”
Penelope thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “If I have some fortune left, if I can destroy those markers, and if Ashton asks me to marry him, I will. That is, if he will accept the boys. I cannot leave them. Too many have done that to them already and I love them. I could never hurt them like that. A lot of ifs.
“But I am certain that Ashton cares for me. He might not love me as I do him, but I think he could, especially if the chains Charles has wrapped around him are cut. I also know he would be a good husband and father. Faithful. I just do not try to think on it too much because there are still so many problems left to solve. And if he does not wish to marry me even if we solve all the problems, I will accept that, too. Better to lose him than to have him as an unwilling husband.”
“Fair enough, but I do think you will soon find yourself very rich. We just need to keep you alive until that happens.”
The men arrived before Penelope could say anything. Dobson’s two men carried the blanket-shrouded form of Mr. Earnshaw. She winced when they dropped the body so that they could signal a hack. Penelope supposed they saw so many bodies they had grown callous about the dead. Not callous enough to keep from retching, however, she thought.
Ashton stepped up beside her and handed her a packet. “Dobson took a quick look and decided it was ours so we could take it.”
“But you have to let me see it if it’s needed,” added Dobson.
“Of course,” replied Penelope.
Dobson patted his coat. “I took the list that was with the packet. It names the ones he worked for. Their papers are all gone and I be thinking they will want to know that.”
“Most assuredly.” She smiled at him. “Why, I would not be at all surprised if they wished to reward anyone who gets those papers back for them.”
He winked. “Just what I was thinking.” He frowned toward where his men were loading Mr. Earnshaw’s body into the carriage and arguing with the driver, who was loudly objecting to having a dead body in his hack. “This was a bad one. Just like that poor woman chained up at Cratchitt’s. It be the cruelty of it that makes it worse than another killing. You find out anything about who did this, you let me know. I might not be able to clamp the irons on a man because of what you learned, but it could lead me in the right direction so’s I can find what I need.”
“Agreed.”
“Ah, and we found the man with the scar that nearly took out his left eye.”
“One of Mrs. Cratchitt’s?” asked Ashton.
Dobson nodded his head. “Pulled out of the river a few nights back. Throat cut. Fools wrapped him tight in an oilcloth and that left a lot of him to be recognized. One of her other men did so. So, no need to talk to the old besom about who tried to run m’lady over with a carriage. She will be hanged soon so, if you do have anything else you think she can tell you, best not wait too much longer.” He tipped his hat to Penelope and Ashton. “Call for me if ye have a need. You know where to find me.”
“I truly hope we do not have to find him again,” Penelope said quietly as Ashton helped her into the carriage. “But I fear we will. This is not over yet.”
“No. No, not yet,” Ashton said. “Are you going to look?” he asked, lightly touching the packet she held.
“Soon.”
It took all of Penelope’s willpower not to tear the packet open immediately. She held it tight all the way home. Once settled in the parlor with something to drink and eat, she sat down next to Ashton and opened the packet. She took out several deeds to property she had not even known her father had, sheets of paper with an accounting on them, and the original wills of her mother and father, not the copies that Charles had hidden away somewhere.
“Nick me,” she said as she read her father’s will. “I was to get two thousand pounds per annum. I never saw that. A few hundred but never two thousand. Ah, of course. My guardian was to give it to me. At first it was the new marquis, then the old baron after he adopted me, and then Charles. I have obviously been robbed for years. And it says here that Stefan and Artemis were to get one thousand per annum and a small piece of property. Each.”
“Both to be distributed by the guardian,” said Ashton. “It does appear that every guardian you have had decided you had no need of such largess but it is Charles who concerns us now.”
“Aye, Charles. He has been pocketing most of four thousand pounds a year.” She read on, shaking her head in disgust. “There are gifts listed for all the old servants and I know those were never paid out.” She put her father’s will down. “I do not think Mother obeyed it, either. I do not understand that.”
“Perhaps Earnshaw was stealing from her, too,” said Argus.
“That could be. It is not as if Father left her destitute, however. The properties he held that were not entailed go to her, except for the two small ones for Stefan and Artemis, so we did not even have to stay in the dower house as we did. I can, in a way, understand her hesitancy to give the boys anything. She was devastated by Papa’s unfaithfulness. Yet, to not give Jones, the old butler at Salterwood House, his pension plus the generous gift Papa left him? That seems so unlike Mama. She liked Jones but he only got a pittance from the new marquis and had to go live with his sister when he was pensioned off. Did she not even notice that? We were in the dower house at that time.”
“Your mother would never have questioned a man to see if he was doing as he should,” said Olympia. “She probably felt the marquis would do as he should and never gave it another thought.”
Penelope thought of how her mother behaved with men and had to agree. Despite the way her father had been, her mother had never stopped acting as if men knew everything. As she had grown older, it had begun to annoy her. The way her mother had turned aside the boys just because the baron said he would not have them in his house had crushed her last hope that her mother might someday grow a backbo
ne.
“What does your mother’s will say?” asked Argus. “It may answer some of your questions.”
“In other words, I should have listened when it was read.”
“You were grieving. I doubt that anyone who truly cares for the person who just died hears much at the reading of the will.”
Penelope just smiled a little, not completely ready to forgive herself, and then read her mother’s will. She had to take several deep breaths to keep from weeping. Just holding the will made her painfully aware of how much had been left unresolved between her mother and her. Ashton began to lightly rub her back and she sent him a brief smile of gratitude for his concern.
“Mother wanted every provision of Papa’s will to continue to be honored. ’Tis an odd thing to say so mayhap she did have some suspicions. She also left Mrs. Potts a very nice pension plus a sizable gift. I know that was never given out. Mrs. Potts is sixty. I think she would like to rest now after a life of service but has complained now and then about having little money to do so and no promise of a pension from Charles. Ah, and here, just as I did remember, I was to have all of her jewels and that house.”
Ashton sorted through all the deeds on the table. “The deed to that house is not here.”
“I suspect Charles managed to gain hold of that. It is difficult to prove ownership without it. My word against his is not enough.”
“Quite possibly although I suspect there are others who could verify your claim.” He frowned as he studied the deeds. “There are some very fine properties here. Who cares for them?”
“I have no idea. I did not even know about them although Mama’s will gives them to me. Two are actually part of her original dower and the rest are properties Father obtained. She even left a nice gift of money to Charles and Clarissa despite how poorly they treated her.”
“We need to have a nice long chat with Charles,” said Argus. “And after that, I want to go and talk to the new marquis. To deprive Jones of his earned pension cannot be allowed to stand. They have stood by our family for generations. Them and the Pughs. That will have to be fixed.”
“Aye,” agreed Penelope. “George is a pompous little man but he cannot be allowed to break Wherlocke tradition. We count too much on the loyalty of those people for him to cause even the tiniest rift.”
“And he needs to understand that one must never cheat the women or the children in the family who are dependent upon your care. That, too, is unacceptable. I believe I know something about him and what I recall leaves me unsurprised that he would do his best to cheat you and your mother, even your servants. He has a skill at sensing a person’s weakness and has always used it to line his pockets. His mother taught him that. She saw the usefulness of such a talent almost immediately. She is one of the ones I wish had deserted her child. He may have become a better man. But we will sort him out.”
Penelope briefly felt sorry for George, but only briefly. Her family had few rules they followed but helping the women and children in their family and taking good care of their loyal servants were ones that were never broken or bent. George would soon learn the error of his ways, and always be watched closely. She noticed Ashton looking a bit bemused.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Aside from the fact that one of you is named such a common name as George?” he asked and grinned when they all laughed. “It is your outrage over how the servants were cheated. I feel the same but know I am one of a few who would, sad to say.”
“Remember what we are, Ashton. At times our very lives have depended on the loyalty of our servants. We have found a few families whose loyalty is taught from the cradle. They have stood by us for generations and have always been treated well and rewarded well. They know it and teach their children that they can only benefit from being utterly loyal to us. George threatens what has been established and we cannot afford that.” She smiled at her uncle. “But you will put him on the right path, will you not, Uncle?”
“Most assuredly.”
“And will have a great deal of help in doing so,” said Olympia, briefly allowing her anger at George to show, but she quickly shook it aside. “Now we have to decide what to do about Charles.”
“We could start legal proceedings against him, I suppose,” murmured Penelope. “Cousin Andras Vaughn is a solicitor. We could always ask him to at least look at all of this and see if there is anything that can be done. I think the biggest problem here is that Charles is my guardian. That gives him a great deal more power than I have.”
“Then we see to changing who your guardian is, using the fact that he has cheated you of your inheritance for years to push for that change.”
“Do you think that can be done?”
“I am not sure, but I do not see why not. We have more in our family with the power to turn the courts to their side than he does. Shall we begin?”
“And let him know it?”
“Most assuredly, my dear. That is part of the game.”
Ashton inwardly shivered at the cold smiles exchanged by Olympia and Argus. He prayed he never got on the bad side of this family. He also prayed that the game they planned did not put Penelope in even more danger.
Chapter Eighteen
Penelope smiled down at a sleeping Ashton. She lightly trailed her fingernails up and down his strong thighs. He made a soft noise of pleasure and shifted slightly. She kissed the hollow at the base of his throat.
“Ah, ’tis morning,” he said and lifted one hand to stroke her back.
“What a clever man you are.” It was barely dawn but she saw no need to be precise.
He grinned and then groaned softly when she lightly nipped his stomach. It astonished him that she could still stir such a wild aching lust inside him. It was possible that he had made love to Penelope more than he had made love to all the other women he had known combined. He had also been far more creative, aroused, and satisfied. If it was merely a brief, mad lust, it should have begun to wane but it had not.
Ashton wondered if it was because Penelope was so passionate and so comfortable with that. The few women he had known in his life had liked to be made love to but rarely liked to make love to him, and then only did so halfheartedly. Penelope gave as freely as she took. Then she ran her hot little tongue down the length of him and he no longer cared to puzzle out the why of it all.
She teased and tormented him with her too clever tongue and her nimble fingers until Ashton thought he would go mad. When she finally gave him what he craved and slowly took him into her mouth, he knew he would not be able to enjoy the delight for very long. The moment he felt the last threads of his control begin to fray, he sat up enough to grab her by the arms and start to pull her up his body. He fell back against the pillows as he kissed her.
“Ride me, Penelope,” he whispered against her throat.
A little uncertain, Penelope did her best to join their bodies. As he slid home inside her, she trembled from the pleasure of it. Ashton grasped her firmly by the hips to urge her to move and she quickly grasped the rhythm he sought from her. But desire was swift to grab hold of her and rule her completely, leading her into finding her own rhythm. When Ashton placed his hands over her breasts, she held them there, stroking him from his fingers to his elbows. And then the bliss began to sweep over her, tumbling her into that place where only pleasure ruled. In a small part of her desire-clouded mind she was aware of Ashton joining her there a heartbeat later.
It was not until they had cleansed themselves and were regaining their strength in each other’s arms that Penelope began to feel a little uneasy about her behavior. She loved Ashton and believed what they shared was but one way to express that love. Yet she had heard that many men did not believe ladies were capable of such passion. Did she demean herself in Ashton’s eyes by reveling in their physical joining as much as he did?
“Ashton?” She stroked his hair.
“Yes?” Ashton idly fondled her breasts as he licked her throat, his sated body already stirri
ng with renewed interest.
She swallowed nervously as she struggled to decide the best way to ask her questions. “I have heard it said that a true lady does not, well, she does not—”
“Enjoy making love?”
“Aye.”
“That, my sweet, passionate Penelope, is the sort of nonsense that has ruined many a promising young marriage.”
The relief she felt was almost overwhelming. “Truly?”
“My word on it. ’Tis foolishness such as that which causes even good men to set up mistresses.”
“Ah.” Penelope was pretty sure that was not the only reason. Some men just felt it was their right to have as many women as they wanted no matter how warm their bed at home.
Ashton moved so that she was neatly pinned beneath him. “I like my passionate Penelope.” He slowly moved against her, mimicking the act he fully intended to indulge in once more before he had to leave. “My sweet lover.” He almost grinned at the way her breathing grew a little uneven and she blindly parted her legs a little more so that he could continue his play with more ease.
“I am not sweet.”
“Oh, but you are.” He kissed her. “Purely sweet.” He circled each of her nipples with his tongue. “And here? Raspberry tarts.” He continued to torment her breasts with playful kisses and gentle nips. “At first I feared this was wrong, that I was allowing lust to rule me as it had ruled my father.”
“Nay, Ashton—”
“No need to try to soothe my fears again, love.” He drew the hard tip of her breast into his mouth and suckled her. “I have never felt like this or acted like this and I am almost thirty. I was temperate in all things and did not find it any great trial. My father was behaving like a rutting goat by the time he was eighteen.” He kissed his way over to her other breast and gave it the same treatment.
“Eighteen?” Penelope struggled to keep her mind clear for he had never fully explained about his father and she believed it was something she needed to hear. He better hurry up, though, she thought.