If He's Sinful (19 page)

“It does seem as if that family does not hide its illegitimate children,” agreed Ashton. “I might not approve of how they seem to toss them all in Penelope’s lap but they do at least try to take care of them. Too few do. Well, was that the good news?”

“Some of it, although we cannot be sure of what use it is until we have a try at getting information out of the swine,” said Brant. “The other news is that, although our investments are still young, there appears to be a good chance that they will pay off even sooner than we had hoped and pay off well. There are already high bids on the cargo the ship is to bring in.”

“Then let us keep praying that the ship does not sink. At the moment, all I need is enough to pay off the markers Charles holds and then I can be free of Clarissa.”

“Ah, Clarissa.” Cornell sat up straight. “I fear your bride is not the sweet virginal darling she pretends to be. She may be cold, but she apparently has no aversion to using her fair flesh to gain what she wants.”

“You were following her as well?” Ashton began to think Cornell enjoyed this work.

“I had my man Pilton trailing her around. I cannot be positive, since Pilton did not actually watch the pair performing the naughty deed, but she spent most of last night at Sir Gerald Taplow’s. Since I have to doubt it is a matter of passion or love, there has to be a reason she is going to him. Shall I find out what it is?”

“If you can. One can never have enough weaponry when one faces down an enemy.” Ashton frowned. “You are right to say it is doubtful she is madly in love with the man. I just do not see her succumbing to a great passion. She is, however, very ambitious. She craves all that society has to offer and needs to reign in its confines. There may be the answer to why she is spending nights with Taplow. Perhaps the easiest thing to do is figure out what he can give her.”

“You really have no intention of going through with this marriage, do you,” said Cornell, smiling faintly. “If you did, you would be at least a little annoyed that she is risking the bloodlines of your future heir.”

“No, I will not marry that woman. I have even begun to think that I will sell off some property if I must to dig myself out of this hole. I will make up the loss to my siblings in some other way.”

“If you do decide to sell any of your properties, come to me first,” said Cornell. “I know all that you have and would be pleased with any one of them.”

“Then I shall tell you first. I am hoping that investment is the way out of the debt that now weighs me down, however. I want to be able to provide for all my siblings. It is what my father should have done.”

“Do not fret over us, Ashton,” said a voice from the doorway. “Better we all have to find our own way in the end than you tie yourself to a woman you do not want.”

Ashton grinned at the sight of his brother Alexander. He stood up and went over to briefly embrace him for it had been months since he had seen the man. Only three years younger than he they had been close while growing up and remained so now. They even looked similar.

As Alexander settled in a seat and had some brandy, he caught up on the news. It surprised Ashton a little to see how eagerly his brother joined in with the spying Cornell was proving to be so good at. He had to wonder if his brother’s travels in Europe were the simple matter of wanderlust Alex had claimed them to be. There were several shadowy groups within the government that dealt in collecting information on their allies as well as their enemies.

“You have gotten yourself into a tangle, brother,” Alex said. “And at the heart of it all is the Lady Penelope if I am not mistaken. Pretty, is she?”

“I think so,” said Ashton and ignored his brother’s knowing grin. “I also think she has been royally cheated by the Hutton-Moores. Unfortunately, a young woman has little recourse in such matters.”

“Hence this gathering of her knights. Well, count me as one of them. Even if there were not a fair damsel to be rescued, I would help, for I want you to be able to choose your bride, Ashton. You should not have to sell yourself because our father was a reckless fool.”

“The final piece of news is that the next delivery of wine will be a fortnight from tonight,” said Brant. “And the merchant, a gruff fellow by the name of Tucker, is more than willing to help us. Seems he has a young daughter and the tale of how Mrs. Cratchitt gains some of her fillies sickened and enraged him. He even wondered if one or both of the girls who had gone missing in the area may have been taken by her and wants to shut her down before any others go missing. Seems one of them was a girl his eldest son was courting.”

“How could we have missed such a thing? How could we go there and not know that some of those girls were not willing?” asked Ashton.

“I fear once they are, er, broken in, the girls are apt to stay, afraid to go back home only to be shamed and shunned. Also, if Mrs. Cratchitt has murdered someone, there may be a threat of violence that holds them in the place.” Brant shrugged. “And holds them silent.” He stood up. “I should go now as I need to be at my grandmother’s for supper and then escort her to the Hendersons’ ball. Will I see you there?”

“If Mother is eager to go. She and Lady Henderson are old friends.”

The others soon left as well, leaving Ashton alone with Alex. He asked a few questions about Alex’s travels but his mind kept wandering to all that his friends had told him. He could almost feel the chains the Hutton-Moores had wrapped him in falling away but he told himself not to hope for too much, too soon.

“Investments. Tricked into a betrothal and threatened to hold fast to it. A murderous madam. A pretty young woman who is being cheated of her rightful inheritance. You have been busy while I have been aroaming,” teased Alex. “And am I right to assume that the fair Penelope would be your choice of bride if you are freed to make your own choice?”

“Yes, she would be. But even if we clear all this away, there will still be problems with marrying her.” He told Alex about the Wherlockes, about Penelope’s belief that she saw ghosts, and the fact that unless his investments turned a healthy profit, he would still need money.

“Ghosts, eh? Intriguing. As for the money, sell whatever is not entailed. You do not need to sacrifice yourself for us. No one would wish it. Yes, it would be good to be out from under this debt without losing everything to pay it off, but we can live well off the lands that are entailed and find ways to rebuild our fortunes.”

“The girls need dowries, Alex. They need to get out in society and find husbands. That costs money. Belinda is three and twenty. She really cannot wait around a few more years until I can gather up enough to give her a modest dowry. Then there is Helen. Is she to wait until we can marry off Belinda and then some as I try to gather a dowry for her, too?” He shrugged. “At the moment, I must concern myself simply with getting out from beneath the thumb of Charles Hutton-Moore.”

“Then I think it is past time the whole family gathered round to discuss all the ways we can collect what is needed without costing you your future. We have seen the hell of a bad, unhappy marriage, Ashton. If our father had not been away so much, chasing after every pretty ankle he caught a glimpse of, we would have lived it. Do not ask us to watch you walk into one for our sake. And there is one thing you have not seemed to consider.”

“What?”

“If your Lady Penelope is being cheated of her inheritance, when it is returned to her hands, she just might be the bride you have been looking for.”

Ashton stared at Alex in open-mouthed shock for a moment. “Well, hell.”

Chapter Eleven

The light dimmed and Penelope found herself squinting in order to read her book. She looked up and realized the boys were no longer in view. Her brief surge of panic eased when she heard their laughter off to her left. She just hoped they were not troubling anyone. They were good boys and mature for their age, but they were still just boys, after all. One thing she had learned in the years she had been caring for the boys was that, if there was trouble out there, they would find it or it would find them.

She looked up at the sky to see that a cloud had covered the sun. It did not look like a storm cloud, but she could see that the sun was a lot farther down on the horizon than she had realized. That could explain why the park was suddenly so empty. Everyone had been leaving as she had been reading, heading home for the evening meal or to prepare for some social occasion. The park was not a safe place to be at night, either. It was past time that she gathered up the boys for the walk home.

In a moment, she decided, and smiled to herself. She was reluctant to leave the peace she had found in the park. Her chances to enjoy such a lazy few hours were few and far between. One day, she thought, she would have a house with large private gardens she could sit in. Or a place in the country. A place where the boys could run about outside on a good day and do so in safety, under the watchful eye of the servants she would be able to afford.

It was a pleasant dream. She sighed. It would be even more pleasant if she could place a husband within the gardens or playing with the boys. Perhaps even a child or two of her own. Obviously even her dreams did not want to give her the false hope that Radmoor might be hers someday. He might well get free of Clarissa but he could not get free of debt unless he had money, money from a rich bride. She would never be rich enough for him, even if she gained possession of the house her mother had left to her.

The laughter of the boys drew closer, pulling her out of her thoughts. Penelope looked in the direction the noise was coming from and saw them all running her way. She frowned when she saw a small, furry creature running with them. Penelope had just decided that it might be a dog when all the boys stumbled to a halt in front of the bench where she sat. She looked down at the creature that sat near her feet, panting. It was small, dirty, and a mix of so many breeds she doubted anyone would be able to discern its parentage. She braced herself for the question she dreaded.

“Can we keep him?” asked Olwen.

“We found him hiding in the bushes,” said Jerome.

“I always wanted a dog,” said Paul.

She made the mistake of looking at the boys. Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, gray eyes, and amber eyes. All were wide, innocent, and so full of pleading and hope only a person made of stone could refuse them. Penelope knew she was not, even when she tried her hardest to be so.

She looked back down at the animal. Even the dirty, shaggy fur hanging over its eyes could not dim the power of them. The huge, sad brown eyes were the last nail in the coffin of her resolve.

“Are you certain it is a he? Even more important, are you certain it is actually a dog?” she asked.

“Of course it is a dog,” said Paul and he giggled. “We think someone threw him away because he is not perfect.”

Those words hit her like a stab to the heart.
Why does he not just cut my heart out with a spoon?
she thought. Each one of the boys standing before her had been “thrown away.”

“You can feel all his bones when you pat him,” Paul continued.

“I would rather you did not pat it until it has been thoroughly bathed. At least twice.”

She reached into the basket she had brought with her and took out the bread. To her astonishment, the dog sat up straighter, its ragged ears lifting up as if in attention. It never took its eyes from the bread as she tore off a piece, but neither did it rush at her to grab some or bark. She tossed the piece of bread at the dog and it caught it. Unfortunately, that so delighted the boys that she knew she had lost all chance, if she had had any at all, of denying them the dog.

“Oh, let me feed him,” cried Paul. “Please?”

Penelope handed Paul a large chunk of bread. “Do not make the pieces too big or it could choke.”

“So? Can we keep the dog?” asked Olwen.

“You will care for it. If it messes in the house, you will clean it up. And it does not put one paw into the house until it is thoroughly scrubbed clean.”

The boys all cheered and then began to take turns tossing the dog pieces of bread. Penelope had to smile as she watched them even though feeding a dog every day would probably lighten her already light purse a lot more. She glanced toward the sun again and decided she could give the boys a few minutes more to play before starting the long walk home.

Penelope frowned as her gaze swept by the small pond while she was turning to watch the boys again and she saw something out of the corner of her eyes. She stared at the pond to see what had caught her attention and softly cursed, recognizing what the misty figure standing at the edge of the murky water was. London was full of ghosts, but she wished they would find someone else to bother. The multitude of spirits cluttering up the city was but one more reason she would love a house in the country, she decided as she started toward the spirit. People died there, too, of course, but not in such numbers and certainly not with such constant tragedy.

The misty figure grew more distinct as she drew near to it. Another young woman, she thought, and felt the pinch of sorrow. It was always hard when it was the spirit of someone who had been alive for far too few years, if only because it was always so sad when the young died. Most of the time death for one so young had been so unexpected that the spirit refused to believe it had happened. It made it very difficult to convince them to relinquish all earthly chains.

Beware.

“Nick me!
Why
do you all say that? Beware
what? Who? When?
” Penelope took a deep breath and let it out slowly, knowing there was no point in getting angry with a ghost. “Why do you linger here?”