Taking the Earl (Heiress Games Book 3)

by Sara Ramsey

There was a note in her voice that sounded like panic. Antonia didn’t panic, especially not as long as they were following a plan. She was always cool, precise, and entirely focused on present success rather than past trauma.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why are you so afraid now?”

  She blew out a breath. “It’s all going wrong. Durrant wasn’t supposed to come to Maidenstone. And when I was packing my things I found a spoon under my cot.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I didn’t put it there,” Antonia said shortly. “And Cress isn’t stupid. She didn’t steal a spoon from the dining room. Someone else put it there.”

  “You think someone was trying to frame you for theft.”

  It wasn’t a question. She nodded. “It must have been Durrant. But I never guessed he would have someone inside Maidenstone to watch us.”

  “He couldn’t,” Max pointed out. “He didn’t know we would go there. The local servants would have mentioned if some other servant had arrived after the start of the party. The only way Durrant could have a servant at Maidenstone is if he planted the person in another guest’s retinue weeks ago.”

  “I know.” Antonia chewed her lip. “I know. But it has to be Durrant, right? He has spies everywhere.”

  “Relax, Antonia. He doesn’t have spies in Devonshire,” Max said.

  Maybe it was a trick of the light, but there was something about the way her eyes shifted that made him look again. Really look, as he hadn’t in awhile. She was his sister. She’d been by his side for every job since they’d reunited. She’d never given him a reason to doubt her.

  But her mouth was tight. Her hand still gripped her reticule like she might need to fight or flee at any moment. She moved stiffly. He knew she had coins sewn into her skirts and treasures tucked away in the lining of her cloak.

  He’d known her since the day she was born. But in the red light of the harbor dawn, he suddenly thought that he might not know her at all.

  He touched her shoulder carefully. They never hugged — she wasn’t much for hugging, unlike Cressida. But when she flinched, he felt a little flare of unhappiness — or warning.

  “Why did you say that Durrant wasn’t supposed to come to Maidenstone?”

  He asked the question slowly. She’d said the words carelessly. He’d almost forgotten them. But the way she froze told him he wouldn’t like the answer.

  Not that the answer was forthcoming. She looked back over her shoulder, then out to sea, as though they could be attacked at any moment.

  “Why did you say that Durrant wasn’t supposed to come to Maidenstone?” he asked again, harder this time.

  She turned to face him like a soldier facing a firing squad. She’d always been quiet, but she had never lacked in courage. “Because he had agreed not to come,” she said.

  Her voice was a clear as a bell, tolling a truth he didn’t want to hear. “And when did he agree to that?”

  “A few days before we left London. After Atticus and Cressida’s debacle, he was never going to let any of us go again. He sent one of his enforcers to ask me for a meeting. You know what would have happened if I refused.”

  Max closed his eyes. Everyone knew what happened to women who ran afoul of Durrant. The magistrate assumed that most lower-class women were whores. If one of his lackeys demanded payment in sex or used rape as a punishment, it wouldn’t be the slightest bit remarkable.

  “I thought I’d hidden us well enough to keep you safe,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Antonia looked away. “You did hide us. But I had…previous arrangements. You’re not the only one Durrant has threatened before.”

  “What?” Max said, too dumbfounded for eloquence.

  Before Antonia could answer, they were interrupted by Titus. “Sold the horses,” he said, strolling up to them. “They were beauties, really. Not sure the man who bought ’em deserves ’em, but he gave me enough that we can buy our tickets without pawning anything else.”

  Max and Antonia both looked at him. Titus swiveled from one to the other, then took a step back. “What’s the fight?” he asked. “I’m thinking you’re not this heated over the decision between Buenos Aires and Havana.”

  None of them cared which city they’d go to first. They would likely take at least two more voyages after their original destination, with new papers forged each time by Titus to cover their trail. They’d already agreed to take the first ship out regardless of where it was headed.

  “Did you know that Antonia had side dealings with Durrant?” Max asked.

  Titus frowned. “Really?”

  He had no poker face at all. The frown was too surprised. The glance he gave Antonia told Max everything.

  “If I ran a real thieving crew, this would be a mutiny,” Max said.

  Titus sighed. “You don’t run a real thieving crew. If you did, we wouldn’t have voted and you’d have stayed at Maidenstone like you wanted to.”

  Max ignored that. He couldn’t let himself think of Lucy — not when there was a conspiracy unfolding under his nose.

  A conspiracy that might have cost him everything.

  “Tell me right now what the two of you have done, or I swear to God I’ll toss you both in the harbor.”

  Titus and Antonia looked at each other again. Max didn’t know what silent communication passed between them, but it was Titus who chose to speak. “Don’t be mad at Antonia. If she hadn’t done it, I would’ve.”

  “You can be mad,” Antonia interjected. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

  “Since I don’t know what you did, it’s too soon to say whether I should be mad,” he said.

  Antonia looked out at the ships again. “I thought it would all come out fine if we could escape England. I double-crossed Durrant. You know how he feels about that.”

  “How did you double-cross him?”

  Cressida and Atticus showed up then, carrying a couple of hampers of food from a nearby tavern. “Are we ready to board?” Atticus asked.

  Cress took one look at the other siblings and shushed him.

  Antonia usually would have sent them away. This time, she continued as though their presence was welcome — perhaps even helpful. “It was my fault that Cress and Atticus thought to rob Durrant’s house. They’d seen me lurking outside it and thought I was planning a job. They apparently thought that if they pulled off the job instead, they could prove to you that they were ready to be thieves.”

  “You’re telling him that?” Atticus asked. “I thought you said you’d gut us if we told him.”

  Max waved his hand, hurrying them along. “The tide is turning. I want to hear the rest of this before we leave land.”

  Antonia took a shuddering breath, but she nodded. “You won’t like any of it, so I’ll be brief. Durrant only let you go years ago because I promised to do him any favor he asked for at some point in the future. He knew you were leaving his gang for my sake — I think it was a way for him to feel like he was still in control, or that he had the last laugh. He was about to call in that favor when Cress and Atticus saw me loitering outside his house.”

  “What was the favor?” Max asked.

  “Don’t know,” Antonia said. “Probably would’ve involved knife work, which is why I was hesitating to visit him — and why I hadn’t told you yet. I loitered near his house for days debating. But before he could force me to repay my debt, Atticus and Cressida tried to rob him. And then my debt became informing him of your whereabouts, with the goal of luring you back into his fold.”

  “So you’re the reason he knew we were at Maidenstone?”

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I told him you were going to Devonshire to pull a job. I didn’t tell him about Maidenstone. But I didn’t know you’d told him your real name. If he followed us to Devonshire, your name was widely known here as soon as you showed up to claim the earldom. It made it too easy to find us.”

  “What was the end game?” Max asked. “Use
your knife work on me?”

  Antonia laughed. “If I were going to stick a knife in you, it would have already happened. I’d promised Durrant my share of our theft if he let all of you go. I didn’t tell him we were leaving England as soon as we were done — I implied that you wanted to stay in London. But I didn’t bank on you actually having a chance at becoming the earl, or on Durrant following us to Maidenstone. And I didn’t realize you were much more valuable to him as an earl than as a thief.”

  “So that’s why you were so determined for us to leave,” Max said. “You were going to lose your share of the jewels.”

  The look she gave him was one he deserved. “Don’t you dare suggest that’s why,” she said, with more heat than he usually heard from her. “I’d pay any price to keep Cress away from what I found on the streets. You’re not the only one who can sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s safety.”

  There was so much he didn’t know about how she’d stayed alive when they were separated. Whatever she’d done, he wouldn’t blame her for it — they all did what they had to do. But she didn’t wear the scars lightly.

  On some level, he worried that she would never recover. Or, perhaps, that she would never forgive herself.

  He wouldn’t add to her guilt. “I understand why you talked to Durrant,” he said slowly.

  “You do?” she said, sounding so surprised that he felt even worse.

  He nodded. “I would’ve done the same if I could have saved all of you without involving you. But I wish you’d told me. This changes things.”

  “What does it change?” Antonia asked. “Durrant will catch us if we stay. We need to go. Now.”

  He looked out to the harbor. Rowboats moved across the water toward the embarking ships, which were anchored in the harbor waiting to depart. The tide would turn soon. If they wanted to leave today, they needed to choose a ship and board immediately. With the war’s effect on shipping and the amount of money they could throw at tickets, they’d have no trouble finding berths.

  If they didn’t leave today, they might not have another chance. Lucy was surely awake by now — she’d likely already found his note. Word would spread through the neighborhood; the disappearance of Maidenstone’s treasures wasn’t a secret the servants would keep. Durrant would track him down even if Lucy didn’t.

  He tried to shove her out of his mind again. But it was an impossible task. Only Antonia’s confession had been strong enough to keep his focus for five minutes — otherwise, it was all Lucy. The memory of her in bed, safely asleep as he betrayed her. Earlier memories, of her body wrapped around him, and her bravery as she’d confessed about Julia, and all the stories she’d told to make him laugh.

  The feel of the Briarley rubies in his hand, sharp as a dagger when he thought of Lucy draped in them while holding his son.

  That image broke him every time. He hadn’t merely taken jewels from her. He’d taken that future from her. From them.

  Or, there was a chance he’d taken that future but left her with a son — a son he would never see. A son she would raise in secret, hating Max every time she saw the boy’s face.

  Antonia saw the incoming threat before Max did — but then, she wasn’t distracted by the idea of leaving a child behind. “We have trouble,” she said quietly, looking back toward the road.

  A messenger rode up, wearing Briarley livery and moving as quickly as the crowd allowed. He slid from his horse and jogged over to them as though he was afraid they’d somehow escape them. “My lord,” he said, almost too short of breath to speak. “Miss Briarley sent me to give you this.”

  Lucy. His heart pounded with the knowledge that she still cared enough to track him down. He took the package the messenger gave him, weighing it in his palm. It was bigger than a letter, but not by much.

  “Careful,” Titus said. “Might be a grenade.”

  Max ignored his brother and opened the package. Inside, he found the emerald necklace she’d worn the night before.

  The note started with My love, but she’d crossed it out.

  Mr. Vale, she wrote. You forgot this. Use the proceeds to send a letter saying where you’ve landed so I may come and shoot you someday.

  She hadn’t signed it, but she didn’t need to.

  His heart flipped. Sure, the letter was mostly a threat. She must be infuriated with him. It was almost insulting that she’d sent emeralds to pay for postage. And the savage line through “my love” was not promising.

  But she was the most surprising, exciting woman he’d ever met.

  And he finally realized that he’d rather gamble everything and risk losing his head than spend another minute denying Lucy’s love.

  He tucked the note and the emeralds into his pocket.

  “That’s the silliest smile I’ve ever seen from you,” Titus said. “What are you planning?”

  Max looked at all of them. They were more capable than he’d given them credit for. They’d all, in their own ways, tried to protect him from Durrant. He’d done everything he could for them — but they could survive without him.

  “You should board your ship,” he said abruptly. “I’m going to do something stupid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  By morning, Maidenstone Abbey was in an uproar.

  And Lucy had discovered the pleasure in causing chaos.

  She sat behind her grandfather’s desk, running her hands over the polished wood. The study seemed more expansive from this side of the desk, with windows behind her and carpet stretching out in front of her.

  It felt like a fine place to conduct a war.

  Claxton entered. “I have completed the inventory, my lady,” he said, placing a sheaf of papers on her desk.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m still Miss Lucy. I won’t be a countess even if I succeed in tossing everyone else out.”

  Claxton bowed. “Of course, my lady.”

  She smiled and looked down at the papers. “How much did the bounder steal?”

  “Every Briarley jewel in the strongroom. I took the liberty of examining the guests’ trunks. He appears to have left those undisturbed.”

  “At least I won’t have to pay for their losses,” she said, leafing through the rest of the inventory. “Any other items of note?”

  Claxton ticked off several objects — the jade figurines in Max’s bedroom, Agrippina Briarley’s gold cross, a chess set carved out of ivory and onyx, and a globe inlaid with semi-precious stones delineating oceans and continents.

  “Too bad he didn’t steal Vespasian Briarley’s collection of saints’ fingers,” Lucy said. “I always hated those.”

  “We could only be so lucky,” Claxton murmured.

  It was such a small thing, but it felt so good to say that she hated something at Maidenstone. She loved most of it. But somehow, without intending it, she’d become the caretaker of a museum’s worth of objects collected by her traveling ancestors — while she sat at home and kept it all free of dust.

  In the middle of the night, as her tears had dried, she’d decided that she was done.

  “How are we progressing with evicting the guests?” she asked.

  “Not enough progress yet, I’m afraid. Some are still asleep. But several of the bachelors who are traveling alone are gone. I closed the breakfast room and suggested that they find breakfast in Salcombe before continuing on to London.”

  Lucy nodded. Claxton had been the first person she’d seen after discovering Max’s disappearance. She’d summoned him at four in the morning, even before she’d asked her maid to help her dress. Claxton was appalled by the thefts, although she’d appeased him slightly by handing him the spoon she’d found in Cressida’s dressing room. The rest of the silver was safe, since he slept in the butler’s pantry where it was kept.

  But when she’d told him what she planned to do, he was delighted. He’d organized messengers and ensured that the other servants knew to keep silent about ongoing developments. So far, he had followed her instructions to
the letter.

  “Are Octavia and Rafe awake yet?” she asked. “Or Ferguson and Madeleine?”

  “I have not seen them, my lady.”

  “Send them here if they have questions. And keep me informed of our progress. I want everyone gone by nightfall so that Julia can sleep in her own bed tonight.”

  Claxton bowed again. “There’s one more issue, my lady. While I was examining the strongroom, I found the Briarley Bible in the Duchess of Thorington’s trunk.”

  “How interesting,” she said, although she wasn’t pleased to hear he’d found it. The Bible brought back memories of Max. She couldn’t afford to think of him right now. She wasn’t going to bury his memory forever — she couldn’t bury his memory. But she wasn’t ready to talk about him until her messengers returned from the docks.

  She’d sent footmen racing to the five nearest ports, each with an identical note and a piece of jewelry from her personal collection. From Max’s talk of running away together the day before, she guessed his destination involved ships rather than carriages.

  If she thought about what might happen if she failed to catch him — or if he didn’t respond to her message — she might break down again.

  “I still can’t believe Tiberius took the Bible to America,” Claxton said. “Ungrateful whelp.”

  Lucy laughed. “You’re becoming shockingly free with your opinions, Claxton.”

  Her butler shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to see a Briarley go to war. It’s made me giddy.”

  He didn’t sound giddy — he sounded as dour as ever. But it was a supreme relief to know he was on her side.

  “The Bible indicates that Mr. Vale’s claim is valid, my lady. Shall I burn it?”

  She’d almost burned it herself the night before. But it was a piece of Briarley history that she didn’t want to destroy.

  She still had hope, however stupid it was, that Max would come back to her. She wasn’t going to blot out his claim unless she had no other choice. And his claim was useful to her even though he wasn’t here to make it.

  “Hide the Bible. We’ll see how our war progresses before making any decisions about it.”