And in that moment, he made a decision. He needed to be in two places at once, which he couldn’t manage without help. Why not enlist Lady Pensworth?
She, too, was a clever woman capable of handling herself in a difficult situation. She had Bree’s best interests at heart, and she was perfectly capable of creating a believable distraction. Not to mention that she despised Sir Oswald for what he’d done to his daughter.
And Bree had always been bothered by the necessity of keeping the truth from her. So by including Lady Pensworth in the scheme, he’d be doing Bree a favor.
Best of all, the baroness owned an equipage. “Lady Pensworth, if you’d be willing to carry me in your coach to St. George’s, I will explain exactly what’s going on with Bree and her uncle, to the extent that I know it. When I’m done, I hope you’ll agree to assist me in my attempt to save my fiancée from a criminal who may wish her ill.”
“A criminal? Hmm.” She eyed him over the top of her spectacles. “Will you also reveal the truth about why you and Brilliana are engaged to be married? And none of that fustian you told me the night of your announcement, mind you. I want the real reason.”
A clever woman, indeed. Rather scarily so. “Yes, that would be part of the explanation.”
She cast him a cool nod. “Well then, sir. Let us call for my carriage.”
Lady Pensworth’s landau halted just outside St. George’s Club. Niall had given the baroness a succinct explanation of how he and Bree had ended up betrothed as part of Fulkham’s scheme. Then he had explained that it had turned into something more. Fortunately, the harridan possessed a talent for grasping particulars and had also deduced some of the truth about him and Bree on her own.
He wasn’t able to reveal the details concerning the duel, but she’d seemed content to accept that it was none of her concern. She’d been far more interested in determining whether he and Brilliana did intend to marry. And he’d told her he hoped so, since he was in love with the blasted woman.
That had seemed to satisfy her at last, leaving him free to explain what he wanted of her. Which he’d just finished doing.
He laid his hand on the door to the carriage. “So, you understand your mission, right?”
“I’m to go to Sir Oswald’s and engage in a subterfuge to delay and thwart the gentlemen in their criminal enterprises until you arrive with reinforcements.”
“Precisely. But you mustn’t behave so obviously or outrageously that either man grows suspicious of your appearance there.”
“Of course.” The gleam in her eyes told him she was looking forward to her part in the plot. “I should hope I am perfectly capable of managing the likes of Sir Oswald and his scurrilous brother.”
Niall rather thought she was. “I shouldn’t be long. Fulkham will already be waiting for me with more information. If he won’t act on it, I will. I’ll go find what I need in that house by hook or by crook.” His heart caught in his throat. “Just make sure Bree is all right until I can do so.”
Hiding her concern for Bree behind a sniff, she opened the carriage door. “For pity’s sake, go do your part. I will look after my niece.”
“Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“I’m sure I won’t. A lady needs an intricate scheme now and again to stimulate her constitution and keep her brain sharp.”
Taking her by surprise, he kissed her papery cheek before jumping out and shutting the door.
“Such a rogue,” she muttered, but a faint pink rose up her neck as she ordered her driver to go on.
Niall found Fulkham in the deserted reading room, and Fulkham immediately slid the counterfeit note across the table at him. “This is identical to the others we had. And you’re sure it came directly from Sir Oswald?”
“I am. But there have been new developments.” He explained his suspicion that Toby Payne might be involved in the scheme and why.
When Niall was done, Fulkham muttered a low curse. “That does clarify something the new French ambassador told me. It seems that our Mr. Payne has been having financial difficulties in Paris, what with the recent overthrow of the government—again—in France. The new regime isn’t as amenable to British merchants, so he’s been scrambling to pay his various creditors.”
“With counterfeit notes.”
Fulkham frowned. “We can’t prove that. Sir Oswald is the only one passing them along so far, so only he can be charged with a crime.”
Niall had expected this. “I know in my bones that Payne is guilty. What if I can guarantee that there’s proof in Sir Oswald’s house of Payne’s involvement? Would that be enough to search it?”
Fulkham eyed him suspiciously. “Can you?”
“Not half an hour ago, Payne coerced Bree into jilting me. After he thought I was gone, he carried her off to her father’s house. He wants her there for some reason. And given that he’s been framing her father for the counterfeiting, it’s conceivable that he needs her help for that.”
“How?” Fulkham scoffed.
“I don’t know, but why else make her go with him? For that matter, why make her jilt me at all?”
“Unless he didn’t make her. Perhaps she just jilted you all on her own, because she’s had it with our machinations. Perhaps the fact that her uncle was visiting had nothing at all to do with why she jilted you. For all we know, her deep love for her uncle made her rethink her willingness to help get her father arrested.”
“Oh?” Niall crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why did she give my incessant gambling as her reason for jilting me, instead of our more personal issues? Payne was coaching her on what to say—that much I am sure of.”
Niall hardened his tone. “And now he has her in his power, for no apparent reason other than something criminal. So if you don’t go in there now with constables and officers to search the place, I’m going to go there myself, if only to make certain she’s all right. Which will probably ruin your investigation and make it impossible to charge the real culprit. Is that what you want?”
Fulkham leaned back to assess him. “If you do that, I can have you jailed for interfering with a criminal investigation.”
“I don’t care. If I lose her because her uncle does something to hurt her or her father, I might as well be in gaol.” His heart twisting in his chest, he gazed out the window. “As it turns out, you were right—the course of true love never does run smooth. But it’s the only course worth running. So if I lose the race before I even finish the course, nothing you can do to me will compare to the hell my life will be from now on without her.”
That seemed to take Fulkham aback. “She means that much to you.”
“And more.” He released a shaky breath. “I lost her once. I can’t lose her again.”
“You do realize that if we go in there with all the power of the magistrate’s office and we find nothing, we’ve squandered our chance to capture the bastard.”
Niall fixed him with a fierce look. “Have I ever let you down before? Sent you on any wild-goose chases? Given you bad information?”
Fulkham rubbed his temples, then let out a vile oath. “No, but you can be a bloody pain in the arse sometimes.”
“I learned that from a master,” Niall quipped.
“Fine,” Fulkham grumbled. “But it will take me an hour or two to get my men together. Are you comfortable with that?”
Now that he’d convinced Fulkham, he was comfortable with anything. “Don’t worry. I have a trick up my sleeve, in the form of a very annoying female. Payne won’t be going anywhere for a while—even if he wants to.”
Twenty-Two
Brilliana and her uncle sat in the upstairs parlor at Papa’s house, which no one seemed to use anymore, judging from the thick layer of dust on the mantel and the lack of coal in the grate.
Now that she’d had a chance to examine more closely the paper Uncle Toby wanted her to copy, she thought it was a French bill of exchange. She couldn’t be sure, but it certainly looked like the English ones she�
�d dealt with in running Camden Hall.
How stupid did he think she was, assuming that she’d believed his absurd story about the document’s exonerating Papa? That was downright insulting. Clearly, he wanted the name and some numbers changed so he could turn a legitimate bill of exchange belonging to someone else into one he could gain cash with.
“Niece, this is taking an inordinate amount of time,” he complained as he peered over her shoulder.
“Do you want it to look right or not?”
She needed to get him away from her. If she could alter her copy in a spot that didn’t typically change, then if she was accused of anything later, she could point to her deliberate error to prove that she hadn’t had any fraudulent intent. It had to be subtle enough to escape his detection, but clear enough that a bank would notice it.
Perhaps a change to the fancy artwork at the top—would he notice that?
“Would you please stop looking over my shoulder?” she complained. “I can’t work with you making me so dreadfully nervous.”
“Fine,” he muttered, and rose to go look out the window.
Thank goodness. Swiftly, she considered the artwork. What about the griffin? It seemed to be part of the bank’s emblem, so surely the bank would notice if it were changed into a dragon.
No, that was too like. A winged stallion, like Pegasus?
Yes. Perhaps that would work.
While her uncle was away from the table, she toiled over her altered copy of the image. But the longer she worked on the paper meant to “exonerate” Papa, the angrier she got. How dared Uncle Toby try to drag her into his criminal enterprise?
He left the window to pace the room. Why was he so fidgety? What more was he planning?
At least one good thing had come out of this. Since her uncle had insisted on sneaking into the house so Papa and Jenkins wouldn’t know they were around, she had to believe that Papa wasn’t part of the counterfeiting scheme.
Unfortunately, with no one knowing she was in the house, even if Niall thought to come here looking for her, Jenkins would turn him away.
She worked in silence, taking as much time as she dared. Uncle Toby had just turned toward her, obviously annoyed, when a sound wafted up from the floor below.
“I need to see my niece, blast you!”
Aunt Agatha? What the devil? How had she known to come here?
There was a long silence, during which Brilliana could imagine Jenkins trying to dissuade Aunt Agatha.
It clearly didn’t work, for the bellowing voice continued. “What fustian! I know she’s here, sir. I must see her. Now.”
“Why has she come?” Uncle Toby hissed.
“I have no idea. But if you don’t let me go talk to her, she will make a ruckus until you do. Or worse yet, search every room until she finds me.”
As if her aunt had read her mind, the woman shouted, “Brilliana? Where are you? I must speak to you at once!”
“Well?” Brilliana asked her uncle. “Shall I go down?”
Uncle Toby scowled. “Only if you can get rid of the woman.”
“I shall try.” Thank goodness for Aunt Agatha. She had an uncanny ability to recognize when something was amiss.
Her noncommittal answer seemed to give him pause. “I’ll go with you, my dear.”
His insistence on accompanying her would have distressed her if not for one thing. Uncle Toby was no match for Aunt Agatha. No one ever was.
Brilliana waited until his back was turned, then surreptitiously grabbed the paper she’d been copying, as well as the half copy she’d already made, and slid them into her apron pocket.
Then she let him hurry her out into the hall. “I’m up here, Aunt Agatha! What do you need?”
Her aunt started up the stairs, shouting to Brilliana all the while. “Margrave told my servant that you jilted him!”
Somehow Brilliana doubted that, but she played along. “That is true.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
With an eye to her uncle, who was avidly listening, Brilliana cried, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Aunt!”
“I daresay it is. I’m providing you with a dowry—and that is enough to give me a say in your choice.” Aunt Agatha reached the top of the stairs to confront Brilliana. “What in heaven’s name are you thinking, to be jilting a man of Margrave’s consequence?”
Uncle Toby stepped in. “Margrave is a gambler. Who cares about his consequence?” He eyed her closely. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Who told you to come here?”
Brilliana held her breath, hoping her aunt could allay his suspicions.
“Not that it’s any of your concern, sir,” Aunt Agatha said in her most imperious voice, “but as I was walking home I saw the two of you pass by in a hackney. When I questioned my footman about it, he told me that my niece had gone off with her uncle, and that you had given your brother’s house as your destination.”
“You saw us drive by?” he said. “I noticed no one passing us on your street.”
“Brilliana clearly spotted me,” Aunt Agatha said blithely. “She waved to me. Didn’t you, Brilliana?”
Aunt Agatha must have some reason for the lie. “Of course. I’m sorry, Aunt, but there was no time to stop and tell you of my change in plans for the day.”
She waved off the apology. “It doesn’t matter. But I was alarmed when the footman told me of your falling-out with Margrave. Have you gone mad? He’s an earl, for pity’s sake. How could you jilt an earl?”
Brilliana’s father came up the stairs, clearly drawn by the commotion. “What is this?” he said, glancing from Aunt Agatha to her. “What are you doing here, daughter?”
“She jilted Lord Margrave!” Aunt Agatha said, as if that explained everything.
“What?” Papa said. “Why?”
Uncle Toby gritted his teeth. “Because he’s an inveterate gambler.”
“What does that signify?” Papa asked. “Half the men in London are inveterate gamblers. Including her father.”
“Which is precisely why she shouldn’t marry such a man,” Uncle Toby said.
“Nonsense,” Aunt Agatha said. “Sir Oswald is right. His gambling is naught to worry about.”
“You see, Toby? Best to stay out of these matters with the young people.”
As her uncle faced her father in a fury, Aunt Agatha winked at her. Winked! Brilliana had been unaware that the baroness even knew how to wink.
“You may stay out of it, Oswald,” her uncle said. “But I care about her too much to allow it.”
Brilliana had to stifle a snort.
“So go back to your cards and your ridiculous friends,” Uncle Toby went on. Then he glared at Aunt Agatha. “And forgive me, Lady Pensworth, but your niece has made up her mind, so there’s no point to your haranguing her further.”
“Haranguing her!” her aunt cried, with a gleam in her eyes. “How dare you, sir? I will have you know that I have taken that woman into my bosom, yet she has chosen to insult my charity by refusing a perfectly good gentleman. It will not be borne, sir. It will not be borne, I say!”
From there, the matter deteriorated into a melee. Uncle Toby argued with Aunt Agatha, Papa put in his own opinions here and there but was gainsaid at every turn, and Brilliana did her best to stir up trouble wherever she could, because she had a sneaking suspicion that there was a method to Aunt Agatha’s madness—though she had no idea what it was.
Until the sound of pounding on the door downstairs brought the melee to an abrupt halt. “Open this door in the name of His Majesty, William IV!” cried a loud, official-sounding voice.
Brilliana’s mouth fell open. And when she shot her aunt a quizzical glance, Aunt Agatha winked at her again. Good Lord.
Papa seemed genuinely surprised to hear visitors at the door, and immediately headed off down the stairs to see what was afoot. Uncle Toby, however, blanched and darted off to the parlor.
Brilliana hurried after him. Whatever was going on, she
would not give him the chance to dispose of any evidence that might be in the house. She entered the parlor to find him frantically searching the room.
He rounded on her. “Where are they, niece?”
As she heard sounds of booted feet tramping up the stairs, she cast him a look of pure innocence. “Where are what?”
“The papers, damn it! The one you were copying and the copy!”
She peered over at the table. “Are they not there?”
“You can see that they’re—” He held out his hand. “Give them to me. Now!”
“I don’t have them. Perhaps they fell on the floor,” she said sweetly. “Did you look there?”
He advanced on her with a look of such rage in his eyes that she stepped back, but then Niall walked in. Brilliana could have wept with relief.
“Are you all right, sweeting?” he asked with concern.
She beamed at him, and threw herself into his arms. “Perfectly fine, now that you are here.”
He gave her a brief buss on the lips, which reassured her that he hadn’t thought she was really jilting him earlier.
Her uncle said, “What in God’s name are you doing here, Margrave?” but she no longer cared about Uncle Toby. She had Niall, and that was all that mattered.
Papa burst through the door next, looking as if his entire world had just shattered. “Toby, the officers are saying you’ve been counterfeiting banknotes! They’re looking at all the money you’ve given me over the past few months. Go tell them that it’s a mistake.” His voice grew frantic. “It can’t be true!”
“Of course it’s not true,” Uncle Toby said soothingly. “It’s a simple misunderstanding.”
“Hardly that, sir,” said a triumphant voice from the door. Lord Fulkham entered the tiny parlor, waving a sheaf of notes in his hand. “We found these among your funds, Sir Oswald. At least a quarter of them are fake.”
“So it’s true?” Papa asked his brother, clearly shocked. “You’ve been giving me counterfeited money to spread around town, you bloody arse?”
Assuming an expression of outrage, Uncle Toby turned to Lord Fulkham. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I haven’t given him a damned thing. If there are counterfeit notes in his possession, they did not come from me.”
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