Jackal (Regency Refuge 2) (13 page)

She nodded, but the shadows returned to her eyes.

"Do you remember Owen? He rode with us to London."

"Of course. I'm not daft."

"I engaged his services to do some investigating. The full report has yet to come, but it appears the solicitor who removed you from Fitz's house was not entirely honest."

Her eyes narrowed again. "I'm not daft, but neither am I a fortune-teller. I can't know what goes on inside that mind of yours unless you tell me. Mr. Knowles was dishonest in what way? Say what you mean."

"Can you keep this between the two of us?"

"Why?"

"I need to let Owen finish his work before I allow any of this information to be made public. It's a delicate balance. It must remain quiet, but at the same time, I wanted to put your mind at rest about something."

She glanced around the room. They were the only two people present. "Alright. I won't say anything."

"The solicitor lied about William's debt. There was no debt, and Mr. Knowles had no authority to seize the estate."

Delight broke through the morning haze in her eyes, and a broad smile lit her face. "Indeed. Well, this will be quite difficult to keep quiet, but I shall endeavor to do so." She tapped the corners of her mouth with her napkin before setting the cloth down. "If he lied about that, could he have lied about the betrothal contracts as well?"

This was the tricky part. "I don't know yet, but it's possible."

The weight of responsibility Juliana normally carried with such aplomb fell away from her in an instant. She jumped from her seat and danced around the table. "You've made my day, Cousin. Thank you." Just as she was about to lay her warm lips against Rupert's cheek, he turned to face her, and their lips met. Her eyes closed for the tiniest moment before they widened. She pulled away, the color high in her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered before fleeing the room.

Rupert's eyes followed her retreat. It would be easy enough to convince himself he'd turned to speak to her, not anticipating the forthcoming kiss. He would be honest with himself, though, even if he had to keep things from other people. The meeting of their lips might have been accidental. Then again…

****

Rupert stepped out into the morning air and took a deep breath. Juliana had been so pleased, and he'd been delighted to be the one to cause it

He made his way over to Brook Street before waving down a hackney. Changing conveyances twice en route, Rupert eventually arrived at the War Department. The look of surprise on Tobias' face was satisfying.

"What on earth are you doing here?" The man's tone was harsh, and his eyes flashed with anger.

Rupert shrugged. "I had almost decided this when you came to visit, but I knew you would argue against it, so I kept quiet."

"You're doing what the minister wants, aren't you?"

"The minister plays no part in this decision. I've got a responsibility as the new Earl of Mendax. I need to keep conflict away from the estate and protect those in my charge – family and tenants alike. I can't do either if I'm constantly wondering whether or not The Hunter will show up. If he is indeed still out there, it's time to draw him out and be done with the whole debacle."

"What if he bests you again? What happens to Chakal Manor and the Clairmont sisters then?"

"You will see they are protected and cared for. It's the least you can do for me after all these years."

"Rupert, are you that determined to dance yourself straight into the fire?"

"Tell me, Tobias, what has you out of sorts? Why do you fear my plan so much?"

Tobias stared at him, his eyes unfathomable. Rupert had worked with the man too long, though. He saw the chink in the armor.

"You're afraid, aren't you?"

Tobias wiped his brow with a kerchief. "Rupert, we don't have sufficient information."

"But you suspect something." The loose thread of an idea floated right before him. He couldn't see it clearly enough to reach out and pluck it from the air. "Tell me."

With a grunt, Tobias waved him toward a chair. "This is much too big for either of us, Rupert. Explosive, even. If I say what I think I may know but don't actually have any proof of, then what am I? Not someone worthy of this position, I'm afraid."

"But you have an agent collecting evidence, don't you?"

"None seems to exist."

"Then have your man look to disprove what you suspect. Surely that's better than nothing."

Tobias ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I haven't been able to disprove it, either."

Rupert leaned forward, anticipation tightening his muscles and bringing his thoughts into sharp relief. "Tell me."

Chapter Twenty-Three

The following week passed by in a whirl of ball gowns and dances. By week's end, Rupert's leg ached almost as much as his poor toes, trampled far too many times by young ladies who ought to have returned to the drawing room to practice their dancing skills a bit more.

Juliana had been giving him odd looks throughout the week, but the girls had been delighted at the adventure. Much to Eudora's delight, Lucien put in appearances at two of the balls they attended.

Selecting well-attended balls had ensured ample witnesses to prevent The Hunter from making a move, while drawing enough attention to garner the speculation of gossip columnists. If The Hunter was anywhere in England, Rupert would not be able to escape his notice. Which was how he wanted it. Though he'd not actually seen him, Rupert had also made a point of attending balls the minister was rumored to appear at on occasion.

On this particular morning, Rupert and the sisters Clairmont were all at the dining room table with filled plates and full cups. Eleanor's brow wrinkled as she asked, "Does this mean you've decided we should wed, then?"

"Do you wish to wed?"

Eleanor shot a look at her eldest sister before answering. "I know my duty."

Rupert couldn't have stopped his bark of laughter any more than a single beaver could stop the flow of the Thames. "So you think of yourself as dutiful, then, do you?" He accompanied his words with a wink.

"I might not go so far as to say that, but…"

Rupert cut her off with a wave of the hand. "Do you wish to wed, Eleanor?"

She gave a swift shake of the head. "I'm not ready, but I will if I must, and I won't complain about it, either. Honest."

"And you, Eudora? Are you
dutifully
prepared to wed an ancient duke in need of an heir?"

The middle sister, shoulders slumped, mumbled a reply.

"What was that, dear? I couldn't make out what you said."

Juliana shot daggers at him with her eyes. No doubt she thought he needlessly tormented the poor girls.

"I want adventure." Eudora's answer surprised him. He'd considered Eleanor as the more adventurous of the two.

"Young ladies seeking after adventure often find themselves in difficult situations."

Even-tempered Eudora scowled at him. "Not
that
kind of adventure. Like Eleanor, I shall do what I must."

Rupert cut into a delectable meat dish whose name he hadn't bothered to learn, took a bite, and gave the younger girls a fond look. "The Stanwich brothers reside at Newgate Prison."

The ladies all gasped.

"What?"

"When?"

"How long have you known?" The last question, laced with suspicion, came from Juliana.

He waved his fork through the air in the manner of an absentminded elder emphasizing a vague point. "That doesn't matter. You need not marry right away. In fact, I'm allowing you the season expressly because you will
not
be seeking a husband. If your sister still had reason to push you toward marriage, I'd be avoiding the ballrooms as vigorously as I would the Black Death."

"Are you going to send us home to Chakal Manor?" Eudora's question wasn't unusual, but the intent countenance with which she awaited his answer set his nerves to thrumming. She pushed her spectacles up without breaking eye contact.

Perhaps she's become too enamored of Lucien.

"We will enjoy London for another couple weeks before we head back to the country."

"So, you shall be our new guardian? Really and truly?" Eleanor's enthusiasm was contagious. "And we'll be at Chakal Manor again?"

Rupert smiled at Eleanor then nodded to Juliana, whose unvoiced question was palpable. He decided to answer rather than keep her in suspense. "It's official. Chakal Manor is mine. The accounts have been settled, and while you don't need to worry about the details, there is sufficient funds for me to continue running the estate as Uncle Fitz did." Giving Eleanor a conspiratorial grin, he added, "And I have no intention of lobbing you off on some other unsuspecting lout. You will remain in my guardianship until you are old enough to wed properly."

Eleanor leapt from her chair and threw her arms around Rupert's neck, reminding him of Juliana's affection of not much more than a week ago. "Thank you, Cousin Rupert! Oh, thank you!"

The girls wandered off from the meal a short time later. Juliana remained at the table, and Rupert began to empathize with the plight of those who'd been forced to face an inquisitor, with one small exception. He had more to hide.

"We can now publicly say the matter of Chakal Manor is settled?"

He nodded.

"The betrothal contracts have been proven false?"

He nodded again.

"How long have you known this?"

Rupert dropped his eyes to the food on his plate, thankful he'd eaten a fair portion of it before he'd begun the conversation. His appetite quickly left him under Juliana's watchful scrutiny.

"How long, Rupert?"

"You should call me that more often. My name on your lips is… bewitching."

Her pupils dilated in response, but she said nothing. He'd gotten to her, and it thrilled him no small amount.

"How long?"

"I received the information on good authority a short time after we last spoke. Despite that fact, I needed to wait until the proper paperwork had been filed. The brothers confessed their crime. They bribed Mr. Knowles. He, in turn, has admitted his crime. He began embezzling from Fitz six months before his death, and he fabricated William's debt so he could seize the funds from the estate."

"Did Mr. Knowles have anything to do with Williams' death? Was he lying about that, too?"

Rupert shook his head. "The solicitor is greedy and dishonest, but he's not a killer."

Relief eased the tension in her shoulders, but the sadness of losing her uncle and cousin still visibly weighed on her.

With a sigh, Rupert asked, "Can you tell me more about how Fitz died?"

Juliana averted her eyes, and suspicion made its way up his spine like a flame licking at a peaceful tapestry, destroying it from the bottom up.

"Why?" She stared out the window and fidgeted with her napkin, folding and refolding it.

"The solicitor said something in his confession, but it didn't make sense. You told me Fitz's horse threw him."

Her eyes were now steadfast as they gazed at the rug. "Yes."

"Is there anything else about the incident that I should know?"

"It wasn't an incident exactly."

Rupert's patience met its end. "Juliana." He didn't raise his voice, but he did speak with more force than normal. Her eyes darted to him and then away. "Give me a straight answer. How did Fitz die?"

Juliana muttered something, and Rupert resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At least he knew where Eudora and Eleanor came by their spiritedness. "Please say it so I can understand."

She sighed with enough force to shake the windows right from their frames had they been made of lesser stuff. "Uncle Fitz fell off his horse. He went riding in the middle of the night. In a lightning storm. In the nude."

The last word came out on an exhale and Rupert had to strain to catch it. Uncle Fitz did
what?
Juliana's obvious discomfiture forced him to rein in his response. This wasn't the Fitz he knew. Something was terribly wrong with the picture Juliana painted.

"You said Fitz had been behaving in an odd manner leading up to his death. Was this sort of… intemperate… behavior normal for him during that time?"

Sadness wrapped itself around Juliana, smothering the joy in her eyes. "We found him sleeping in the barn on two different occasions. Other than that, I'm not aware of anything of this nature. And he had his clothes on both of those times."

She raked a hand through her hair before adding, "We did all we could to calm and help him, yet he became increasingly volatile. He would be happy and laughing one minute and then ranting and raving the next. There was no pleasing him. One day he threw his breakfast plate of toast and egg because he wanted fruit. The footman scurried back to the kitchen and returned with a plate of fruit, which Uncle Fitz promptly tossed away, demanding eggs."

"And that behavior occurred over the last year before he died?"

" Maybe not quite a full year, even if it felt like an eternity."

"Were there any new employees at the estate during that time?"

Juliana's brow creased as she thought. "We hired a gardener. His name was…"

Rupert waited as she tracked back through her memory to try to capture what she'd forgotten.

"…Yager. It was spelled funny, but I can't remember how. I saw it on some of Uncle's paperwork once, but it was pronounced Yager."

Rupert stilled. "J-A-E-G-E-R?"

"Maybe. It started with a J, but I don't remember the rest. Is it important?"

Standing abruptly, Rupert ran a hand through his hair and stared at Juliana. "Was he still employed there when Mr. Knowles evicted you? Where is he now?"

She shook her head. "He left after Uncle Fitz died. I'm not sure what happened to him. He was just gone one day."

"How long after Fitz died?"

Juliana frowned at him. "A day or two I think. Sometime soon after. Why? Do you know the name?"

Rupert forced a smile to his face, but it felt closer to a grimace. "It's of no import. It's German."

"Oh. He had a bit of an accent, but I never bothered to place it. I didn't often have cause to speak with him. What does it mean in German?"