Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (34 page)

“Cora?” Will asked quietly, wondering what she sought.

“Is there a newsstand nearby?” she whispered.

“Around the corner. Why?”

“Might you purchase a paper for me? Today’s?”

He cast her a wry grin. “Aim to practice your German?”

“Something like that,” she said. “Just see if you can purchase a copy? And get it to me?”

“Of course,” he said, giving her a deferential nod. Their eyes met and held. Will forced himself to turn to Felix and begin a conversation lest Mr. Kensington’s keen blue eyes discovered them together.

Three shops later, the youngest girls found their gowns—Lillian’s reportedly a pale yellow and Nell’s a dark, ruby red—and they were finally free to return to their cars. Will casually glanced across the street, glad to see the two men in top hats smoking cigars and chatting, lingering as if waiting for wives inside the costume shops. Will knew them as Bruno and Ludolf, two of the additional guards who had been hired. Women came out of the shop beside them, and the men turned to follow them, as if the ladies were indeed their wives. Antonio had told him the other two guards around back were dressed as street sweepers, industriously working.

They were some of Austria’s version of Pinkerton detectives, and their stated goal was to be as invisible to the troop of Kensington and Morgan travelers as they were to their pursuers. “If we do our job well,” their boss had told Will that morning, “you will find it difficult to see us, discover us, and just when you do, we shall switch out the men for others. But know this,” he’d added, raising a stern finger, “we shall always have four men within direct reach. You are not alone in your task. On that you have my word.”

They came on the baroness’s highest recommendation, and Will thought he had little choice but to trust her. But it made him antsy, not knowing exactly where all his men were at any given time. To whom he could reach out and call for help. He preferred the rank-and-file soldiers he had hired in Yves and Claude, the detectives from France. Still, he knew that if they were to draw the potential kidnappers out, this was how it would have to be played.

After high tea in the elegant Grand Hotel Wien, with enough scones and tiny tea sandwiches to hold them all until supper, they stopped at the Schönbrunn Palace. Will forced himself to run through the litany of lessons that he knew his uncle would have expected him to recite, feeling a bit melancholy as he thought about the old man. But only the younger girls seemed to be paying attention, the rest constantly fidgeting, their minds on the bigger issue at hand, no doubt. It was with some relief when they returned to their cars to head back to the baroness’s mansion.

With everyone accounted for, Will spied a paperboy on the corner and belatedly remembered Cora’s odd request just as he was about to enter his motorcar. “Hold on a moment,” he said to his driver, jogging to the corner to purchase the paper. He hurried back, searching for the hidden detectives, but could see none about. There were men with children, women…then he saw the two in top hats, strolling toward them, as if they had all the time in the world, and he smiled in relief.
Probably heading to their own motorcar to follow us.

He opened the door and jumped into the front seat beside his driver and gave him the nod to take them home. And as they drove, he scanned the front page of the paper. His eyes rested on the headline Cora had obviously seen.

Montana Copper Strikes Gold
, it read in German. His eyes moved downward, rapidly translating most of it. A dusty, forgotten town named Dunnigan. Cora’s hometown. The recent discovery of both gold and copper in her hills. Several farmers on the brink of bankruptcy, soon to be very wealthy men. But most of the property had been purchased over the years by none other than Wallace Kensington.

He read and reread the lines, thinking he’d imagined it. Will closed his eyes and rubbed them, a sudden ache making them throb. Had the man really done it? Purchased the Diehls’ property out from under them? Moved in when Alan was weak, sick? Sent them on to Minnesota, and Cora here, in order to get them out of the way?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

~William~

He avoided her as they entered the mansion, refusing to meet her questioning gaze and keeping the paper firmly tucked beneath his arm. They had to find a moment. Alone. Together. So he could break this to her as gently as possible.

“We are to meet the baroness at six here, dressed for the evening concert,” he called to the group. “Have a good afternoon of rest. If any of you have need of me, I shall be taking my leisure in the mansion’s library.”

Cora’s eyes flashed, meeting his. She had understood. Above her, Mr. Kensington and Mr. Morgan were already climbing the stairs, apparently more than eager to take their rest, with the others following behind, Cora beside Lil. Given a measure of luck, no one but Cora would come to the library.
A word, Lord. A moment
, he begged silently. But deep within, he hoped for much more.

She arrived an hour later. He was up on the second level of the magnificent library, in one of several small alcoves not fully visible from the areas below. He was pretending to linger over a section of books about ancient Greece when he sensed her arrival. He looked over his shoulder and saw Antonio scan the library, spot him above, and then take his position by the door. Cora brushed past him and saw Will then too and immediately went to the mahogany ladder, climbing up to him.

“You on the hunt for a tome about ancient Greece too?” he said, in case anyone was coming in after her.

“Perhaps,” she said, with a small smile. He slipped his hand around hers and pulled her around the corner, into the alcove, away from Antonio’s eyes.

They stood there for a moment, tentative and awkward, each knowing there was too much to say and not enough time. But there was one thing he had to know.

“Have you given in, then, Cora? To him?” Will asked, his tone laced with pain.

“No, Will,” she said, sorrow in her blue eyes. “Pierre…he’s lovely. But he’s not the one my heart wants.”

His heart leaped. They stared at each other as if to memorize each other’s face. It had been so long. So long since they’d had a moment alone. “Cora,” he breathed, daring to pull her close.

“Will,” she whispered back, her face inches away, inviting him in.

After a long, searching kiss, he pulled away with a groan, knowing that if they were discovered, everything would become much more complicated. “What are we going to do?” he asked, every word an ache.

“My father insists I accept Pierre’s bid to court me,” she said, taking a step away as if guilty. He held her hand, stubbornly refusing to release it. “And if I don’t, I’m afraid my father will figure out that
you
are the cause of my resistance.”

“Cora. I so wish to speak to him about my own desire to court you.”

“You mustn’t!” she said, her eyes widening. “If he finds out about you and me…”

“He won’t,” Will said, pulling her close. “Not yet anyway. Not until he can’t hurt either of us. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“I do, though,” she said, taking his other hand. “I do. Pierre already guessed that it is you who holds my heart from him. How long until he tells my father? Or how long until Wallace sees it himself, traveling with us?”

“We only need to take increased care.” But the fact that she’d told Richelieu of him, of her true feelings, made his heart soar, even as a dark cloud of fear entered in.

Her eyes echoed what her words had said—by some miracle, it was he who still held her heart.

“Cora, there’s more we must speak about….” He turned away from her to lift the folded paper from the alcove table, then slowly turned back, knowing that what was to come would hurt her deeply.

“What is it?” she asked, sounding a bit faint. As if she knew already.

“They discovered copper, Cora. And gold, too. In Dunnigan. Your father’s wealth shall quadruple with the stores they figure are in the rock below.”

Her lush lips parted, and air came out in a
whoosh
. He grabbed hold of her arm and turned to sit her in a chair before she fainted. “Cora, breathe. Breathe,” he said, taking a knee and stroking her arm, then holding one of her hands between both of his, against his chest.

Her eyes were flicking back and forth, as if she were trying to make sense of it.

“He didn’t,” she muttered. “He couldn’t have…he wouldn’t….” Then her gaze stilled, suddenly, staring straight ahead. She lifted her chin and rose. “I have to go see him. Now.”

“No, Cora. Consider the consequences.”

She ignored him. Simply picked up the paper and made her way down the narrow ladder as if she’d completely forgotten he was there.

He groaned in frustration and followed her down the ladder and out the door, Antonio beside him.

“What is it?” Antonio whispered.

“Disaster,” Will said.

She scurried up the stairs and down the hall, directly to her father’s suite, where she paused, squared her shoulders, and then knocked on the door. A footman answered it, gave her a small bow, then turned to announce her. Will followed behind, not waiting for an invitation, leaving Antonio to guard the door.

Mr. Kensington was sitting in one of two large wing-backed chairs by the window, his welcoming smile quickly fading when he saw Cora’s frown. His eyes moved to Will, as if seeking an explanation, but Cora held the paper in front of him, the article visible on the top. “Explain
this
to me,
Mr. Kensington
.”

Wallace gestured to the footman to leave them in privacy, and the man did so at once, quietly closing the door behind him. He then glanced at Will, but Cora interceded. “No, I want him here.” She shook the folded paper in her hand again. “Tell me. Tell me I simply do not know enough German to properly translate this.”

The gray-haired man took the paper from her and scanned the article a moment, then tossed it to the table. “It’s true. I was going to tell you, but the drama of late has kept our attention on other topics.”

Her lips parted in astonishment. “Wh-what? How…how could you do such a thing?”

“What? Turn a plot of dirt into a profitable mine?” His hands spread apart. “It’s what I do!”

“By taking advantage of your own daughter?” Cora asked. “And the people who reared her for you?”

The older man’s eyes moved in agitation to Will and then back to Cora, as if he didn’t appreciate being called to account, especially in front of another. “Perhaps we should speak of this in private,” he said.

“No,” she said, more riled up than Will had ever seen her. “He stays. He is my friend, my
guardian
,” she said, leaning slightly toward her father. “A role you don’t seem to understand.”

“Cora,” Wallace said with a sigh, gesturing toward the other chair. “Sit down.”

“No, thank you,” she said, crossing her arms. “Simply explain it to me. Please.”

“Cora,” he said again, leaning back, his elbows on either arm of the chair, and steepling his fingers. “Sit
down
.” He stared back at her, his blue eyes brooking no argument. “I refuse to have this conversation unless we do so in a civil manner. What would your mother say?”

“How dare you mention my mother at a time like this!”

“Cora.” He kept his tone low.

Finally, Cora lifted her chin and demurely sat down on the edge of the chair, as if she intended to remain there for the shortest possible time. “You stole that property out from under my papa, knowing all along what it was worth.”

He studied her face. “Is that what you think of me?”

She shifted in her seat, the movement so small Will almost missed it. But something told him Wallace Kensington had not. “You are well known as a ruthless businessman,” Cora said. “You saw an opportunity. You took it. No matter who it harmed.”

“I delivered your parents from a property that was bleeding them dry. When I arrived, your papa was at death’s door. You know him, Cora. If he had spent another week on that farm, it would’ve killed him. He would have rallied, risen, and died walking those fields, trying to coax something of a harvest out of that wretched, drought-ridden soil. He’s stubborn. Determined.”

“Almost as stubborn and determined as you.”

“Almost,” Mr. Kensington allowed, locking eyes with her.

“So you waited until he was too weak to fight you. Until we were all too weak to fight you.”

“I know it must seem that way to you.”

“How else could it seem?” she said, letting out a little laugh and shaking her head. “In short order you had my folks on a train to Minnesota—”

“Where they have found
health
, peace.”

“And me on a train to the lake—”

“Where you began the grandest chapter of your
life
.”

“And the title to my father’s farm—my
grandfather’s
land—was in your hand.”

Wallace clamped his lips shut, waiting her out.

“Did you ever truly want me?” she asked. “To be a part of your family? Or have I endured all this—made my siblings endure all this—so that you could get me off the property too? So you could become twice as wealthy?”