Deliciously Wicked (22 page)

Munden's lip raised in a snarl. “I don't work for you. By the time you tell the authorities, I'll be long gone. You made the decision to leave here a lot easier for me.”

His fingers began to twitch. Everything was unraveling. All his careful planning. His precise plans for how to make the factory his. They were dissolving right before his eyes.

“No!” he said as he came to his feet. He reached
inside his coat and pulled out the revolver hidden within. “You will not walk away from this.”

Munden eyed the gun, then his head tilted back and he roared with laughter. “Is that supposed to frighten me? You? There ain't nothing frightening about you. Look at you, with your fancy suit and your clean cravat. I could snap you with my hands.”

The man didn't even flinch. Made no move to either leave or protect himself. Henry felt the boiling in his head, the pounding in his ears. The rage surfaced and engulfed him as if he'd stepped into a cloud. “Not frightening,” he repeated. “Not frightening?” he said again. “Not frightening!” And then he squeezed the trigger.

Munden's expression changed to one of surprise. He clasped his chest, then looked at his hand covered in blood. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His face contorted in pain and he crumpled to the floor.

“Not frightening.” Henry walked to stand over Munden's sputtering body. “No, I don't suppose I am frightening. But I've always been an exceptional marksman.” He waited a bit longer until Munden had taken his last breath, then he stepped over him and left the office.

It had become clear that his clever plan had ultimately failed. Meg had married that bastard and she had no intention of leaving him. And now Gareth would get the factory and all the lucrative funds from it. The thought made Henry ill. All his hard work building this factory, and he'd see none of the rewards.

Foolish Piddington. He could have set this right. He could have forced Meg to marry Henry when he'd first proposed. Henry took one last look at the factory, and
it became clear what he had to do now. He couldn't allow Gareth to destroy all the work he'd put into this building. He'd made Piddington Confectionery known throughout London. He wouldn't allow a simple factory worker to come in and ruin that.

T
he following morning, Meg and Gareth entered the factory together and the entire room stilled. It was time that everyone became accustomed to their marriage, just as they had begun to be accustomed to her presence at the factory. She was fully aware that all eyes were on her as she walked past them and into the downstairs office where Munden spent most of his days. The room was empty. Perhaps he was somewhere on the floor.

She would find him later. For now, she would go and clean up in her father's office to prepare for his return the following week. She climbed the stairs, then opened the door.

She screamed before she'd fully registered what she was seeing. And in mere seconds Gareth was at her side. Munden's body lay in a dried pool of blood on the office floor.

Gareth stepped closer to the lifeless body.

“Gunshot,” he said quietly.

Meg just kept her eyes affixed. She could not look away. Not from the blood, not from the knocked-down chair, not from Munden's open but dead eyes. She felt her knees wobble, and again Gareth was at her side.

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Amelia,” she said.

“Who?”

She pulled her eyes away long enough to stare into Gareth's face. “Amelia, my friend. Her husband is an inspector. He'll know what to do. We need to send for them.”

Gareth nodded. “Do you have their address?”

“Yes.”

He retrieved a piece of paper and dipped the pen, then handed them to her. “Write your instructions here and we'll send someone for them.” Footsteps sounded on the staircase. “In the meantime, I don't want anyone else up here.” He stuck his head out the door while she busily wrote down Amelia's address and instructions for Amelia and Colin.

When Gareth turned back around, she handed him the note. “I can't stay in here,” she said.

“I understand. Why don't you wait downstairs in the storeroom.”

She held on to the railing and looked straight ahead. The factory was buzzing with talk, no doubt people wondering what all the fuss was about. And they had a right to know. But she was not the one to tell them.

They should be sent home today; the factory closed. She needed to speak with her father about how to
proceed, but of that much she was certain. After she gathered herself, she would dismiss them all.

She numbly stepped into the storeroom, then sat on a bench. How was she supposed to feel about this? Sorting through the emotions was confusing. Who would have done such a thing? Surely this wasn't a robbery, as funds were never kept in her father's office. Everyone here knew that. What had Munden been doing up there anyway? She didn't think he even had a key to that room.

Meg stood and paced the length of the storeroom. She'd been in here before—on that night with Gareth. The night someone had locked them in together, and it had started a chain of events that had ultimately led to their marriage.

They had been locked in. On purpose. And someone had known about that. She stood and ran to the door and out onto the factory floor.

“Gareth?” she yelled.

It didn't take him long to run down the stairs and meet her.

“What's the matter?”

“I know.”

He shook his head in confusion. “You know what?”

“I know who did this. I know who locked us in the storeroom. And I know who shot Munden.”

He closed the door and shut out the prying ears of the workers.

“What are you talking about?”

“That night we were locked in here. It wasn't an accident. Someone locked us in here on purpose.”

“Why?”

“I'm not certain.”

“Then how do you know?”

She shook her head. “It didn't make sense before and I didn't even really notice. But sitting here today, I remembered. The day I came here and gave the alibi. Henry was here with Munden. I was explaining the scenario, and Henry asked me why someone would lock us in here. I didn't even recognize what he was asking; I thought it was mostly asking why it mattered that we were locked in together.” She shook her head. “Don't you see? It was him all along. He's the one that shot Munden.”

Gareth rubbed his temples. “Sanders asked you who locked us in, and this means he killed Munden?”

She released a short breath. “I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but think about it. Why would he ask that question? Why would he assume that someone locked us in rather than it just being an accident with the door?”

“Unless he locked us in himself? Is that what you're saying?”

“Perhaps. I don't know if it was him who locked us in, but he knew. He's behind all of this, I know it,” she said.

“But why?” Gareth asked.

“That, I haven't figured out. But the rest I'm positive about.”

“Then if he did all of those things, more than likely he took the chocolate boxes,” he said.

“Right. And he's the one that sent that note to Munden.”

“That doesn't prove he's a murderer, Meg.”

“No, but it makes sense. He was the one that was behind the theft, meaning he's the one with the most
to lose. Maybe I'm wrong, but I just don't think so. His name just keeps popping up.”

Gareth pulled her into his arms. “You are a rather good sleuth, you know. I am sorry you had to see all of that.”

She melted against his chest. “It's all right. I don't think it did any permanent damage. Did you send for Amelia?”

“Yes, Jamie has gone to get them.”

“Thank you.”

 

It took a little over an hour for Colin and Amelia to finally arrive. By that time, Meg's nerves had settled to a calmer level, and she had already released all the employees for the rest of the day. Gareth quickly filled Colin in on all the details after brief introductions.

“How are you?” Amelia urged as the men talked.

Meg gave her a smile. “I believe I shall survive the day.”

“I want to go into the office and examine the evidence,” Colin said.

They all turned toward the stairs, but then Gareth stopped. “I think it would be best if you stayed down here,” he said to Meg.

Colin cleared his throat. “Better to allow them now rather than fight them. They'll come up regardless.”

“He speaks from experience,” Amelia added.

Gareth nodded, and they continued their way to the office.

“Did either of you move or touch anything?” Colin asked. He leaned over the body.

“No,” Meg said.

“He's been in here all night.” Colin picked up
something with his tweezers. “Maggots have already settled in.”

She tightened her shoulders to stand up straighter. There was no reason for Gareth to believe she couldn't muster the strength to handle the situation. The two of them stood out of the way while Colin and Amelia went around the room. He inspected everything and she took notes for him.

Aside from the dastardly nature of the situation, watching her friend with her husband pleased Meg. Amelia was happy. Meg knew her and Gareth's marriage would not ever be like the wedded bliss of her friend. Amelia and Colin loved each other. There would be no such love for the Viscount and Viscountess Mandeville.

“Amelia, look at this,” Colin said.

Amelia leaned over him. “That is an excellent specimen, but now is not the time, love.” Amelia looked up at Meg. “Fingerprints on the desk,” she said with a smile.

“Well, it would be a perfect clue if Scotland Yard would but listen to my proposal,” Colin said. Then he stood to his full height and took one last look at the room. “I think that's all the collecting we can do. I'll take this shell casing to James and see if they have a match on record. It's a new system, so it's unlikely.”

“We know Henry did this,” Meg said. “We only need to find him.”

Colin nodded. “Do you have an address?”

Meg wrote it down and handed Amelia the paper.

“I'll come around tonight and let you know what I uncover. But chances are he's already left town,” Colin said. “I'll need to notify Scotland Yard about
the situation. I will do all I can to assist, but you'll need the officials working on this.”

“Thank you for coming out to help,” Meg said. “I didn't want to call anyone else, until you could assist.”

Amelia embraced her, then stepped over to Gareth. “I've heard quite the stories about you, Mr. Mandeville. I do hope you will take care with my dear friend.” She shook his hand. “And congratulations on your wedding. We find married life positively inspirational,” she said, then looked to her husband.

“Positively,” he agreed drolly.

She punched him playfully in the arm. “You are terrible.”

Meg walked her friends to the front doors. It was wrong to be envious of a friend; Meg recognized that. But she couldn't help herself. She didn't want Amelia denied any of the happiness she'd found with her husband, but Meg longed for the carefree relationship the two of them shared. Despite her longing, she knew she and Gareth would never have that. She would have to learn to be happy with things as they were.

M
eg had said she was handling things well, but seeing a murdered body was too much for a lady to have to handle. Gareth squeezed her hand.

Colin was going to investigate further Meg's claims about Henry. In fact, he was going to visit the director at his home and then report back at the Piddington estate later that evening.

For now, Meg was eager to discuss everything with her father. She was tired, but strong. Stronger than any other woman he'd ever known. His mother had endured a lot, but in the end she'd given up. Gareth had to wonder if Meg would do the same. She'd certainly never given up trying to prove his innocence. Perhaps under the same circumstances, instead of leaving, Meg would be strong. Meg would stay.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he loved her, but he swallowed it quickly. He let the realization
drift through him. He'd known it was coming; hell, he had probably loved her for a while and simply didn't want to admit it. But now was not the time to admit it to her. Not when he doubted very much that she could feel the same way. Not after the careless way in which he'd treated her.

After the day she'd had, he didn't want her feeling guilty for not being able to reciprocate his love. He'd been selfish throughout too much of their relationship; he would not ask her for her heart; she'd already sacrificed enough on his behalf. He wanted so much to comfort her, smooth her hair, and whisper of his love, but it would not bring any solace to her.

Meg immediately headed for her father's study when they entered the house. Gareth stayed close behind her.

Her father was standing at the window, leaning on his cane.

“Papa,” she said.

He turned and smiled. “Hello there.”

“We have much to tell you. You should sit down.”

He looked at Gareth, and Gareth nodded in agreement, so he hobbled to a chair and sat.

“I'm sitting, now tell me what is the matter. You seem most agitated.”

Gareth was prepared to tell him everything on the off chance that Meg could not do it. But he didn't anticipate that happening. In a situation where most women would have fainted and wept, Meg had taken control and stayed strong.

“Mr. Munden has been murdered. In your office, Papa.” She turned to face Gareth, so he came and stood behind her. “Gareth and I found him this morning.
Oh, it was dreadful. Shot to death, right in the factory.” She didn't wait for her father to have a reaction or to ask questions; she just kept talking.

“We sent someone for Amelia and Colin since I knew Colin would know exactly what to do with the situation. He said we did the right thing in keeping people out of the room, so he was able to look for evidence. But while we were waiting for them to arrive, I waited in the storeroom downstairs. The same one that Gareth and I were locked in.” She recounted the same story she'd told Gareth earlier about Henry's question the day she compromised them.

Then abruptly she was done talking and she stared openly at her father, waiting for his response.

He said nothing for several moments. Then he took a deep breath. “Are you saying that you believe Henry killed Mr. Munden?”

“Yes, Papa, I'm certain of it.”

“It doesn't make any sense. Why would he do these things?”

“We don't know,” Gareth said. “But we did discover something earlier while investigating Munden. We were trying to link him to the stolen candy boxes and we broke into his residence to try to find some evidence of that.”

Piddington snorted. “You and my daughter broke into the man's residence?” He shook his head. “I do believe I gave you far too much freedom, Meggie.”

“Yes, we did. But it was something we really needed to do,” Meg said defiantly.

“In any case, we found no evidence of him stealing the boxes. But we did find an anonymous note and we found ledger sheets. Sheets removed from your ledger
book. Munden was pilfering funds and then removing the evidence. Apparently Sanders must have discovered this and used it as leverage. I'm still not certain why he wanted to put the crimes off on me though.”

Piddington nodded. “I knew about those funds. I didn't know who was taking them. I assumed it was Sanders himself. I thought he might have gotten himself into some trouble since he has a fondness for expensive clothes and didn't want to ask for extra money. I gave him a raise, but the money still disappeared.”

“You knew and you didn't say anything?” Meg asked.

He released a large breath. “Yes, clearly an error on my part. But I never imagined Henry would go to such lengths.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It is rather fortunate that I had a new will drawn up this morning with my solicitor. Henry would likely have destroyed my confectionery once it became a public company, but this morning I changed that and gave it to the two of you.”

 

They were all seated in her father's study when Colin arrived.

“I do apologize for my tardiness. I waited at Mr. Sanders's residence for several hours to no avail. I'm afraid he's left town,” Colin said.

“Thank you, Colin, for everything,” Meg said.

“Should we expect to hear from him?” Piddington asked.

“It's hard to say for certain. If he's afraid, then he's probably left town or is hiding until this situation disappears. If he's angry, though, then you might very well hear from him. For the next few days, I would advise
that you stay home and call the authorities should you suspect anything. That includes you, Meg,” he added.

She nodded.

“I have posted a man outside the house, for protection. More than likely he's left town. Cowards generally do that sort of thing. I apologize I couldn't be more helpful. Meg knows how to get in touch with me if you need anything else.” Colin stood to leave. “I'll check back at Mr. Sanders's residence in the morning and let you know if I discover anything new.

 

“I can't believe the factory is to be ours,” Meg said as she snuggled into the sheets.

Gareth fell into the bed beside her. “It is a strange turn of events,” he said. He still couldn't believe that the entirety of Piddington Confectionery would be his. It didn't seem right. It seemed right that it belong to Meg, she wanted it, but him, he had barely worked there for four months.

“Now you
must
stop working on the factory floor. That would simply be unheard of,” she said.

He bent his arms and laid his head in his hands. “I'm not going to do that. It's your money. Your father's money.”

“You are my husband. This would have happened had I been born a boy. No one would have questioned that. This is no different. I am an heiress and that makes you an equal heir. Would you not share your wealth with me?”

“I don't have any wealth, Meg.”

“But you would share with me what you have,” she said.

“Yes, I would.”

She sat up and faced him. “You're not your father, you know.”

He looked at her, but said nothing. How did she know he was worried about that? He'd never said anything to indicate he wondered how long until he had the same drives that his father had. He already knew that once the money came to them, he'd have to have a solicitor set up accounts and give them allowances. He didn't want to be in charge of it. Didn't want to risk having all that money at his fingertips.

“I know you worry about that,” she continued. “Worry that if you don't labor your days away that you'll end up as he did. But it won't happen.”

He licked his lips. “You don't know that.”

“Of course I do. I know enough about you to know that you don't have it in you—”

“To do what? Be selfish? Wasteful? We all have that in us, Meg. We only need the right circumstances to bring it out. I'm not willing to take that risk. I might take one of those management positions at the factory, but until that time, I'm going to continue working.”

“But you're a viscount,” she said.

“And you're a woman, but you want to work. The title means nothing to me. Being born with a certain name or amount of money doesn't mean that I'm above laboring like the rest of the citizens in this city.”

He rolled over on his side. “Look at men like Henry and my father. They probably didn't start out wanting what they hadn't earned, but at some point they began to believe that they deserved more than was justified, and it led them to make destructive decisions. I don't ever want to assume I deserve something when I don't.”

Most of all, he didn't ever want to assume that he deserved her. He was a selfish bastard, he knew that, but he wanted so much for her to love him. He wanted to know what it was like to be loved by Meg.

But he'd never ask her to make such a sacrifice as to give him her heart. After all, what had he ever done to deserve it? He'd deceived her. Put her in the unenviable position of the wife of an impoverished viscount. He'd brought her nothing but trouble. As much as it would destroy him, he wouldn't blame her if she walked out. For the first time in his life he understood why his mother had left. Love simply wasn't enough, and he and Meg didn't even have that.