A Kiss Before Dawn (20 page)

E
mily knelt between Miles and Jenna behind the concealment of a pair of bushes and watched as Jack Barlow paced the clearing in front of the gamekeeper's cottage, his strides swift and impatient.

He'd been doing this ever since they'd arrived over a quarter of an hour ago. And as time wore on, the scowl on his face grew more pronounced and he kept casting glances at the darkening sky, as if trying to judge the time.

Was he expecting someone?

“I thought you said he leaves for the tavern by sundown,” Emily hissed at Miles, feeling her anxiety mount with every moment that passed. So much depended on what happened tonight, and Jack's continued presence threatened to ruin everything.

The stable hand shrugged. “'E's usually gone by now. Per'aps the boy is delivering tonight's message to 'im 'ere instead.”

Alarm skittered through her. Dear Lord, she hoped not. She would never have a better chance to search the cottage.

There had been no difficulty in slipping away from Knighthaven this evening. In her eagerness to aid her young sister-in-law in her supposed seduction of Peter, Deirdre had given most of the servants, including Langley, the night off. And just before departing with Tristan for dinner at Lilah and Cullen's home, the countess had stopped long enough to give Emily a hug and a knowing wink.

But if Emily had been planning on taking advantage of the opportunity Lady Ellington had presented her with, she would have been doomed to disappointment. The sun had set, and Peter had yet to return from his sojourn to the local pawnshops. Jenna had mentioned earlier that she had passed him as she was making her way through the woods to Knighthaven. Apparently, he'd been on his way to Willow Park.

At the thought of Peter, she found her mind traveling back to earlier that afternoon, to his reaction to Adam's proposal. Though a part of her was appalled at the way she had allowed him to touch her in the carriage, she couldn't help but be pleased by his display of concern—and his obvious jealousy.

“Moreland isn't good enough for you, Emily.”

And yet the stubborn fool would never admit that maybe—just maybe—
he
might be the man for her. In
his mind, he was unworthy, merely by virtue of his background, and whatever Emily might think was beside the point.

But regardless of whether she could have Peter in her life or not, she would never marry Adam. She'd made up her mind about that once and for all when she'd entered the barn to meet Jenna and Miles before coming here and had walked in on them wrapped in each other's arms, kissing with a fierce passion.

Her two friends had sprung apart at her approach, red-faced and stammering, but she had waved off their excuses with an understanding smile. She was happy for them, glad that Jenna had finally realized what a good man Miles was, but she couldn't help but feel a sharp pang in the vicinity of her heart. No, she could never wed a man she did not love.

And the only man she would ever love was Peter Quick.

Now, however, was not the time to be thinking of this. She had to focus on the task at hand. Perhaps if she could accomplish what she hoped to tonight, she might be able to convince Peter to forgive her transgressions.

Her mind turned, instead, to his theory regarding the thefts and the connections between the victims. It had never occurred to her that each of Jack's marks had been contributors to Willow Park. Had the blackguard chosen them on purpose?

She answered her own question. Of course he had. It would be the ultimate revenge for Jack, once the victimized families found out who the thief was, to have
them withdraw their support of the Park. And it was almost guaranteed that they would.

She had to put an end to Jack's schemes. She just had to!

At that moment, the object of her thoughts gave an irritated growl before throwing up his hands and stalking off around the side of the cottage.

“It looks like 'e's finally on 'is way,” Jenna whispered.

Sure enough, a minute later Jack trotted back into view on a gray spotted gelding. With one last look around and a tap of his heels against the horse's flanks, he sent his mount galloping off down the path toward the edge of the woods and the main road.

“All right,” Emily said as soon as he was out of sight. “Let's go.”

If luck was with her, she just might be able to recover the stolen jewelry as well as the mysterious letters Jack was holding over her head and be back at Knighthaven before Peter returned and noticed anything amiss.

The three of them crept from their hiding place and stole swiftly across the clearing toward the cottage. There was no impediment to their entry, as the door was standing ajar, and Emily paused in the opening for a second in order to get her bearings.

Within, a lone candle had been left burning on the mantel above the crumbling fireplace. Its wavering light barely illuminated the interior of the small, one-room house, but there wasn't much to see. There was little in the way of furniture. Only a scarred wooden table and a single chair. A threadbare blanket had been spread out on the dirt floor before the fireplace, where
the remains of a roasted hare hung on a spit over the hearth.

“Well, if 'e's 'idden the stuff 'ere, it shouldn't be too 'ard to find it,” Jenna commented from behind her.

Miles stepped past them into the room. “We'd better start searching. We've only got a couple of hours at most before Jack comes back. And if 'e really was waiting for someone, there's no telling when they might decide to turn up.”

He was right. Emily lifted her chin in determination. “Jenna, go get that candle and bring it here. Miles, help me check the walls for any holes or loose boards. Jack wouldn't leave any of the stolen goods out in plain sight. More than likely he has some sort of cubbyhole. We just have to find it.”

As Jenna hurried to fetch the candle, Emily and the stable hand started to work their way around the room, knocking on walls, prying at the moldering wood and looking for any sort of chinks or cracks that might indicate a hiding place. It was slow going with only the glow of the candle to light their way, and by the time they were done, they were dusty and discouraged.

But Emily wasn't about to give up.

Placing her hands on her hips, she contemplated her surroundings with narrowed eyes. “It has to be here somewhere. There's no place else for him to hide any of it, and I can't believe he would have already pawned it.”

Miles's brow furrowed in thought. “You know,'e might have buried it outside somewhere.”

“Possibly. But I doubt he would stray very far from
the cottage.” She turned to the stable hand. “Why don't you go check around the clearing and see if you notice any signs of freshly dug earth. And keep an eye out for Jack. Jenna and I will keep looking in here.”

Miles nodded and set off on his errand as the two women went back to poking and prodding into all of the dark corners of the room. Jenna moved to examine the fireplace, holding the sputtering candle aloft as she searched for loose bricks, while Emily sat down on the blanket and looked through the knapsack that Jack had obviously been using as a pillow.

It was empty except for a rather dull-bladed knife.

“This makes no sense,” Emily said, unable to hide her growing frustration. “It
has
to be here somewhere.”

She placed one hand on the blanket and started to push herself to her feet, but she paused for a moment when her fingers encountered a depression in the earth beneath it. Her heart speeding up a bit in response, she reached out to toss back the edge of the frayed material to find a shallow hole a little larger than a man's fist that had been dug into the dirt floor.

“Jenna! I think this is it!”

The younger girl hurried over to Emily, shining the meager light from the candle down into the darkness of the hole. Emily stuck a hand in and withdrew a small drawstring bag, uttering a quick, silent prayer as she loosened the string and dumped the contents out onto the blanket.

And there they were. Lady Tuttleston's cherished necklace, Lord Caulfield's diamond cuff links, the Ful
berry jewels, and Lady Brimley's beloved brooch, all sparkling in the dimness like stars in the night sky.

“What about the letters?” Jenna asked anxiously, straining to see into the crevice. “Are they in there, too?”

Emily reached back into the hole and felt around. There wasn't much room to maneuver, and at first she felt nothing but loose dirt. After a second, however, her fingers brushed against something that made a hushed crinkling sound, and she pulled out two folded, yellowed pieces of stationery.

She stared down at them for a moment in consternation. Was this the proof Jack had been speaking of? Was she about to find out that her mother hadn't been the person that everyone had always believed her to be?

As if sensing her distress, Jenna laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I'll go let Miles know we found it,” she murmured, then set the candle on the ground and quietly left the cottage.

Emily was grateful for her friend's sensitivity. Though she dreaded it, she knew she had to read the letters, and she would feel much better if she could do it in private. But she would have to do it quickly. She had no desire for Jack to return and find her here.

Her fingers trembling slightly, she unfolded the first paper and leaned in toward the candle so its faint glow spilled over the delicate handwriting on the page.

Her mother's handwriting. Her mouth went dry at the realization. She'd seen enough samples of the late Lady Ellington's writing over the years to recognize it now.

Dearest Lavinia,

 

Lavinia? Good heavens, this was a letter from her mother to the late Lady Brimley!

She continued to read.

The next page was another letter, dated three months later, and also addressed to Lady Brimley.

 

I am with child.

 

The words were enough to have Emily's stomach lurching.

Where on earth had Jack gotten his hands on such incriminating evidence?

The letters fell from Emily's nerveless fingers and
fluttered to the blanket as her eyes blurred with sudden moisture. Her poor mother. And father! He had known from the beginning that there was a chance that Tristan wasn't his. No wonder he had been so cold and forbidding with his only son. And no wonder he had become so very bitter. He had spent his life married to a woman whom he had loved fiercely, but who had never felt the same way about him. A woman who had loved someone else.

She closed her eyes, trying to picture her father's face, trying to match the features she could recall to those of her brother. The late Lord Ellington had been a big, dark-haired man and so was Tristan, but that wasn't necessarily proof that they were related. If this Nick had been large and dark in coloring, as well…

“So?”

At the sound of Jenna's voice, Emily looked up to find both the younger girl and Miles hovering in the doorway, their expressions full of concern.

“It's true.” She forced the words out through a constricted throat. “All of it.”

“Oh, Em. I'm so sorry.”

Emily blinked back her tears, trying to gain control of her ragged emotions, then lifted her chin with firm purpose before picking up the pages, refolding them, and tucking them in the pocket of her breeches. There wasn't time for her to fall apart. Not now. “It doesn't matter. Jack can no longer use these to blackmail me.” She gestured to the stolen goods lying on the blanket before her. “And we have what we were looking for, so I'd say our work here is done. We'll turn it all over to
the law and explain what's been going on. Hopefully, Jack will be behind bars before the sun sets again.”

“What about Peter?” Miles asked softly.