The Impostors: Complete Collection

by Crosby, Tanya Anne

  “I’m certain,” Claire agreed, sighing, trying hard not to think about Merrick at all.

  She was quite anxious to arrive at the house on George Street, eager for answers. She fidgeted in her seat, averting her gaze, uncomfortable with Lord Huntington’s regard. “Where is Alexandra this afternoon?” she inquired.

  Regretfully, she’d not spoken to Lexie since the evening at Vauxhall, and that night, she hadn’t been entirely civil. Although Claire didn’t precisely agree with Alexandra’s views, they’d known each other far too long to let that stand in the way of their friendship.

  And besides, she hadn’t many friends to lose.

  She wondered if Merrick would miss her even a little, and chided herself for dwelling on something so pointless.

  It was over, she told herself. She had understood the consequences when she’d agreed to the ruse to begin with. And she had realized the import of her actions last night. She was no longer a virgin, but what did it matter? She had never intended to marry anyway. She didn’t want to marry any man. None would ever be so tolerant as her father, and she didn’t care to change to suit anyone.

  “Gone to the country to visit her mother,” Lord Huntington revealed. “I would have thought she’d have told you.”

  “Yes,” Claire said. But she thought it curious their servant hadn’t remembered that particular fact when she’d come knocking on their door. The man had asked Claire if she was there to see Alexandra and he had been ready to fetch her, then and there.

  Oh, well. Claire shrugged. “Well, I’m certain I must have upset her,” she admitted. “I shall have to apologize when she returns.”

  “Worry not. Whatever the trouble, it will be entirely forgotten by then,” he reassured, as the carriage came to a halt. “We’re here,” he announced.

  Peering out the window, Claire was surprised to see the docks. “Oh, no! I’m afraid the driver has the wrong address,” she said, and turned to face Lord Huntington.

  “Not at all,” Lord Huntington said with a smile that unnerved her. Without another word, he reached out to cover her nose and mouth with a putrid cloth.

  Realizing only belatedly, smelling the stink of ether, Claire tried to scream, but the effort only managed to fill her lungs with a sting.

  Ian knocked on Claire’s front door.

  And then again.

  When there was no answer, he let himself in, far too on edge to wait for someone to admit him.

  Ben was descending the stairwell, already clean shaven and smiling, his face startlingly similar to Claire’s.

  “Where is she?” Ian asked without preamble.

  The look on Ben’s face was hardly reassuring. “I thought she was with you.”

  Ian swallowed. His gut turned. “She’s not here?”

  Ben shook his head. “No.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “There is no one here—not even servants. I’ve been through the entire house.”

  “Bloody hell,” Ian exclaimed, and he covered his face with an arm. Something like tears stung the back of his eyelids. Fear clutched at his chest.

  “Ian?” Ben asked. “Where is my sister?”

  Ryo entered behind him, answering the question because Ian suddenly couldn’t speak. “My lord, we suspect she went to pay your ransom.”

  Ian’s voice shook as he faced Ben. “Is there any place else she might have gone? Any place at all?”

  He and Ben shared a look of dread and Ian knew before Ben said it what the answer would be.

  “Lord Huntington,” Ben replied.

  Chapter 28

  “Why have you brought me here?” Claire asked. “I don’t understand.” Her hands were bound and she was in the windowless brig of what she assumed was a trade vessel, with nothing more in her possession than the dress on her back.

  “You’re taking a little vacation abroad,” Lord Huntington disclosed.

  “Please… you can’t do this,” Claire told him, trying to get her hands out of the bindings, but even as she said it, she realized it wasn’t true. He could do whatsoever he wished.

  Who would stop him?

  Ben was nowhere to be found.

  Who would look for her?

  Her stomach roiled over the answer to that question. She’d asked Merrick to leave her be and not to seek her out. Never in her life had she hoped more than she did this instant that someone would completely and disrespectfully disregard her request. Merrick was her only hope.

  Huntington seated himself beside her on the cot, reaching out to pet her hair and Claire cringed, moving her face away from his touch, unable to bear it.

  “You might enjoy it more if you simply tried, Claire,” he said gently. And then he moved so he was standing before her, shoving her backward on the cot.

  Panicking, remembering Jasper’s instructions, Claire kicked, aiming low.

  He reeled backward, howling, cursing profusely, and Claire watched, both fascinated and horrified by his reaction. Red faced, he finally straightened, and said, “You will come to regret that, Claire!”

  He moved at once to the door.

  “What about Ben?” she demanded to know, realizing now that he must have had some hand in Ben’s disappearance. “What have you done with my brother?”

  “Ben is perfectly fine,” he assured, confirming her suspicions. “A little indisposed, but fine, nevertheless.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Right where he belongs—Fleet Prison.”

  At his disclosure, Claire felt a mixture of relief and terror. Her brother was alive. But she’d heard horror stories about the residents of Fleet. Once behind those walls, all prisoners were treated with equal disdain. It was the dread of all men, commoners and gentlemen alike. “Why would you put my brother in such a place?”

  “I will untie you when I return,” he said, ignoring her question. “I’m afraid this impromptu journey has left me in somewhat in a pinch. There is much to do before we set sail, and then, when I’m back, we have a score to settle.”

  “Alexandra will wonder where I’ve gone,” she said, grasping.

  “Don’t worry. I will be sure to give her your regards,” he said, and opened the door. “If you’re a good girl… and you learn to appreciate my efforts, I’ll see to it that Ben is released as well, but one more trick like that last one, and…”

  Claire’s eyes shot him with venom. “And what?”

  “Then, it’s quite the pity, but good men die in prison every single day.” He left her to mull over that fact, slamming the cabin door and bolting it from outside.

  Claire lay back upon the hard bunk, taking measure of her surroundings. It was a very, very small cabin, with only a cot, a blanket and nothing more.

  Why would any man wish to possess a woman who didn’t want him? she wondered. “Merrick,” she whispered desperately. “Where are you?”

  Huntington made his way homeward, preparing his story. Alexandra had yet to leave, but he would, indeed, send her packing to the country to visit her ungrateful mother.

  Gad, but all women were thankless bitches.

  Even so, he was a little angry with himself. Things had gone a bit awry. He hadn’t intended to snatch Claire—not at all. He simply hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity once it had presented itself. But, having Ben arrested and put away was one thing. This was another thing entirely. She wasn’t some common bit he could dispose of after dawdling with her. She was someone of consequence, and despite the fact that she had made herself unavailable to most people, she would, indeed, be missed—particularly now that her name was known to so many. No matter that she was no longer the fiancée of a prince, people would still remember.

  And what if Ben were to be freed? What if he came looking for her? What if his bloody Highness came searching?

  No, he couldn’t set her free, even if wished to. And he truly didn’t. For far too long, he’d pined for her sweet flesh. He’d loved the chase, and now that he had her where he wanted her, he wanted
the spoils of his victory. He was a hunter, and he intended to enjoy his prey.

  So then, he wouldn’t leave for a few days, that’s what he would do. He’d keep her on that ship until suspicion was cast conveniently elsewhere. And then, once it was safe to depart, he would take her somewhere far away. And then…

  His body hardened at the thought of taking her. He wondered if she would enjoy it a little rough… a choke about the neck.

  The first time he’d done that, it had been entirely an accident. It was a game he’d played with an experienced paramour. He’d squeezed too tightly and simply forgot to let go. Poor woman. After that, he’d grown quite addicted to the thrill of it.

  Peering out the window as they approached his home, he spied Merrick and Cameron walking toward his door—along with Ben. He was out—but how?

  “Drat!” he said, and called to the driver. “Keep going! Don’t stop!”

  Edward had been following the girl since she’d left Berkeley Square. He’d been in London long enough to know who she was, and curiosity got the better of him.

  How ironic that Julian hadn’t even realized the brothers had switched places. He wondered how Merrick and Ian had discovered the truth.

  Whatever the story was, he was certain he could use the situation to his advantage. He simply didn’t know how as yet.

  Considering the circumstances, he couldn’t go back to Scotland. Since he’d burned down Glen Abbey Manor, the authorities would be searching for him there. So, it seemed, pleading mercy to Julian was his only option, although he knew his half-brother well enough to know he must have something of value to offer Julian in return, or Julian would never allow him to return to Meridian.

  He followed her home, then to an address down the street, and then again to the docks. Then he waited, watching as the gentleman departed the ship alone, and he realized his suspicions had come to fruition.

  Edward knew a desperate man when he spied one; it took one to recognize another. Now, that lord’s mistake could be his good fortune. He waited patiently, and once he was certain the girl would not be moved, he returned to Berkeley Square, quite certain that knowledge of her whereabouts must be worth something.

  Chapter 29

  Moving swiftly to cover bases, Cameron placed Huntington’s house under surveillance. Ben brought his servants home to make certain someone was about in case Claire returned. Together, he and Ian sought out the prison guard, who swore—even after a sound beating—that he hadn’t the first inkling where Huntington had fled to. Unfortunately, if that were the case, they had little recourse but to wait for a ransom note, or anticipate some word from Huntington himself.

  Ian only hoped the man had enough of his wits about him to let Claire go, realizing it was only a matter of time before they formally connected him to her disappearance.

  Someone somewhere must have seen them together, and eventually, they would come forward. Huntington couldn’t possibly intend to leave his entire fortune and his daughter behind—unless he was simply too arrogant to consider himself discoverable, or thought himself above the law. Eventually, he would be forced to come to heel. But, in the meantime, there were a million things that could go wrong, and if anything should happen to Claire, Ian would never forgive himself.

  For that matter, he had yet to speak to his father after confronting him in his office, and he doubted he would ever forgive the stupid bastard. If Julian hadn’t sent Claire away, she wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.

  God, he loved her.

  When he saw her again, that was the first thing he intended to say… and then he must confess the remainder of the truth. There would be no more lies between them evermore.

  His life as Merrick was over.

  His parents’ deceptions, over.

  He and Ben made their way back to Grosvenor Square to meet Cameron, and it was all he could do to keep from going out of his mind.

  Julian Merrick Welbourne II sat at his desk, all his letters strewn before him, contemplating past decisions. A vial of laudanum caught his eye, but he daren’t touch it. The drug had assisted him through years of regret, numbing his pain. Now, it offered little relief.

  Somehow, he’d made a mess of things… his own life… Fiona’s… his sons’, not to mention that of the wife he’d never once loved.

  If Ian was here in London that must mean Merrick must also know the truth and surely, he’d lost both of his sons.

  Where had things gone so bloody wrong?

  “What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,” he’d heard a man say.

  His entire life, he’d merely wished to do the right and honorable thing. He’d ceded to his father, marrying Elena, because he’d believed it was true that his duty was first and foremost to Meridian. Not all men were born to follow their hearts; some men were born to a higher burden and purpose.

  He had offered Fiona a life of luxury under his loving care, and she had rebuffed him. Still, he had given her the opportunity to raise at least one of their sons, while he’d made the other his heir instead of Elena’s progeny.

  In the end, it hadn’t mattered, because Elena had despised him intensely, avoiding his bed as if though it harbored a plague. She hadn’t borne him any children at all.

  Meanwhile, he had even sent his half-brother Edward to keep the woman he loved safe, knowing Edward would care for his blood as though it were his own. He and Edward might not have been close, but Edward had spent his entire life shadowing Julian, trying to overcome his baseborn beginnings. Julian had only wished to give him the opportunity to prove himself, to feel worthy. He had entrusted two of his most precious possessions to him. And somehow, in the process he had lost everyone—Edward, Fiona, Elena and, now, both his sons.

  And furthermore, Ryo had informed him that Claire had somehow gone missing. Ian would never forgive him. The hatred in his son’s eyes was something Julian had never witnessed before. It cut him to his core.

  How could he ever make things right?

  “While we consider when to begin,” Ryo advised upon entering the office, “it quickly becomes too late.”

  Ryo knew him too well. No doubt the canny man knew precisely what he was thinking. Julian considered the loyal servant’s counsel. He knew Ryo was right, but the problem was that he didn’t know where to begin. “Alas, I fear it is years too late,” he countered.

  Ryo shook his head. “It is never too late, heika, so long as you have breath.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Ryo?”

  “And if I had,” the servant asked, answering the question with another question, “what would you have done?”

  Julian shrugged.

  “A good teacher merely opens a door,” Ryo said. “A pupil must enter of his own free will. You did not ask me to detail your journey, heika, only to guide it.”

  “I have failed,” Julian lamented.

  There was no pity or condemnation evident in Ryo’s tone. “Everybody fails, heika. The greater question is not whether you have failed, but whether you are content with your failure and what you will do about it.”

  Julian sighed. He shook his head. “You know I would give anything to make things right,” he said.

  “Then you may wish to receive a guest.”

  Blinking, Julian raised his head, surprised by the announcement at such a late hour.

  “Who is it?”

  “Merely a stepping stone,” Ryo answered in his usual cryptic style.

  “Show the man in.”

  Ryo left and returned very shortly, standing again in the doorway, motioning their guest to emerge from the shadows of the hall.

  “Edward?” Julian said with surprise when he saw the man’s face—older, but still similar to his own. The resemblance in their family was strong.

  Looking warily about, Edward entered the room, his face devoid of expression. “I know where the missing girl is,” he said, getting directly to the point of his visit.

  Julian shook his head. “How?�
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  “It doesn’t matter. If you want her, I can show you where to find her… for a price.”

  Julian didn’t hesitate. “You can have whatever you wish,” he agreed, rising from his chair at once. The last thing he intended to do was to haggle now and cause the girl harm. If he could save his relationship with at least one of his sons, it was worth any cost. “Take me to her at once,” he demanded.

  He turned to Ryo and said, “Ryosan, go tell my son.”

  Lord Huntington returned all too soon.

  As promised, he untied Claire’s hands, then abandoned her again, leaving her to wonder about his intent.

  A woman must do what a woman must do, she’d once told Merrick. So, what must she do now?

  Lord. She wasn’t nearly as brave as she would have liked to believe. In fact, she was quite terrified. And confused. Everything she had ever known to be true had been turned upside down in the space of a single day: her quiet life, her family and friends.

  Someone unlatched the door.

  Huntington entered yet again, urging her to get up, only this time he was waving a pistol in her face. “Change of plans, my darling,” he announced. “We’re going someplace safer.”

  Claire arched a brow, eyeing his pistol. “I dare say, safer for whom?”

  “Don’t argue with me, you stupid doxy! Get up!”

  Reluctantly, but without any choice, Claire stood, taken aback by his crude language. Evidently, he was still furious with her for kicking him earlier. And even so, no one had ever spoken to her so rudely—not even Merrick’s father, who clearly despised her.

  “Let’s go,” he said, seizing Claire by the arm and dragging her toward the door. “Behave yourself. You would do well to remember I have your brother at my disposal.”

  Claire tried to shrug out of his too-firm grip. “I am perfectly capable of following your lead. I need not be steered like cattle.”