The Daughter of an Earl (26 page)

B
RETT
cursed the pending shipment that was keeping him tied up at the office. He needed to delegate more. It was time to trust in Jenkins's management, but relinquishing responsibility did not come easily to Brett. After his debacle with Janice Wentworth, building his company had saved him. For Emily, her escape to the Lake District had abetted her recovery.

They had both escaped their pain in different ways, but Emily was still running. Running from herself. From something she feared percolated deep inside of her, waiting to boil over.

He blew out a breath. He had suspected Emily hid something, but he could never have fathomed what it was. He recalled her nerves during those first few forays into society, and he had seen her crumble when she received Little's news about Jason. But these were but cracks in her fortitude. She had always shored them up, lifted her chin, and forged ahead. Daniel had recognized her strength, conceding that having a single-minded purpose had been good for her.

Why couldn't Emily see that?

And if she truly loved him, she should want to fight for him as she was fighting for Jason. Brett frowned, because there was the true sting in her rejection—that she was willing to give him up.

She believed he deserved better. Well, so did she. He rubbed his temple, a headache sneaking in as another pesky thought disturbed him. Emily had said she loved him, but maybe . . . maybe it was not enough. Could it be Janice all over again?

And once again, he was a fool.

His heart lurched in denial. Emily was not Janice. He just had to convince Emily to fight for them
. For me
.

He did not have time to brood over the matter, because his office door swung wide and Daniel entered.

He slammed the door closed behind him, a scowl contorting his features.

“Emily?” Brett blurted, shooting to his feet.

“Damn right, it is Emily. What the devil did you do to her?” Daniel thundered. “She is supposed to be ill, but then she is making plans for me and Julia to escort your sisters to some bloody masquerade ball in Kent while she recovers. A masquerade, mind you!” He paused, narrowed his eyes, and stabbed his finger at Brett. “Ill, my arse. She is plotting something, so she needs everyone out of the way. What is going on? Have you finally found the evidence implicating Drummond?”

Expelling a breath, Brett sank back into his chair. “No, not yet. But I would not mind getting Miranda and Melody out of town for a while. But I need you here. There might be trouble.” He recounted Drummond's threats.

“Bastard. What do you plan to do?”

“Not run away as Emily would like,” he grumbled. It still irked him that she thought he would abandon her—even if she wished to protect him as he sought to protect her. They made a pair. “I gave her my word and I am keeping it. Hopefully, we can collect the evidence from Winfred before Drummond unleashes whatever machination he is hatching. Then we can hang the whoreson and be done with matters.”

“What if Winfred does not have anything useful?”

“I will keep looking and watch my back while I do so. I have no other choice,” Brett said with a shrug. “I have men observing Drummond, so he cannot make a sneak attack. Did you meet with Roberts? Or uncover anything on Drummond's finances? We still need to determine motive.”

Daniel sank into the chair across from Brett's desk. “Drummond did lodge the allegations against Marsh, but someone else corroborated them, so there was little Roberts could do but dismiss Marsh.”

“It does not cost much to bribe another into committing slander,” Brett said. “We learned that from Wentworth. What about Drummond's finances?”

Daniel leaned forward. “That was interesting. The man has no debts, does not gamble, nor does he keep a mistress. He has been spending generously to finance his sister's first Season. The income from his estate would not cover these expenses, so I thought that was something until I learned that the Earl of Dayton is financing everything. The man is a family—”

“—relation. So I have been told—repeatedly,” Brett muttered. Daniel's information was not helping to alleviate the throbbing in his head.

“For someone who has embezzled a fortune, Drummond lives like a Spartan. Are you sure you are pursuing the right man? Did you know that he and Jason
were
friends prior to the viscount's posting in India? Lord Roberts said the two were at university together, and Julia told me that Drummond introduced Emily to Jason. Actually he reacquainted the two, as they both grew up in Bedfordshire.”

Drummond was guilty. Brett knew it deep down in his bones. Had sensed it since first setting eyes on the blackguard. Something simmered below his polished veneer. Something sly and insidious. “He is guilty, but damned if I know why the man would embezzle money he does not need and is not spending. He has his reasons. He just has yet to reveal them. But make no mistake, the man is a snake.”

“More important, if you are right, he is a murderer who
has now leveled serious threats against you. Have you considered withdrawing for a while? I can—”

“You sound like Emily,” he said, scowling. “That is another mistake Drummond has made, believing me to be a coward who would flee. He wants to move all the pieces aside, so he can make his next move. The man has a plan, and we need to stay one step ahead of him. But in addition to the meeting with Winfred, there is another reason I cannot leave. I have an obstinate, thickheaded woman to woo and wed.”

“Is that so?” Daniel grinned.

“It is. She said she loves me, so she cannot take it back. I will not let her.”

Daniel jumped to his feet, grabbed Brett's hand, and pumped it vigorously. His other hand clasped his arm tight. “That's marvelous. I had hope, but you both were being so bloody slow-footed about the matter. I thought I would have to knock your thick heads together, and that could have gotten messy. Julia will be ecstatic.”

His friend was babbling. Worse, he was right, not that Brett would concede that. “Ah . . . about Julia. You cannot mention it to her quite yet.”

Daniel's smile faded, and he dropped his hand. “Why is that? You said that Emily told you that she loves you. Have you proposed?”

“Of course, I proposed,” he snapped.
Just not very well.
He refused to concede that either. “Emily is being contrary about matters, but she will come around.”

“You are supposed to have a way with women, have three sisters, and as you like to boast, you know women well. So pray tell, what the devil went wrong? Last I knew, Emily is a woman.” He arched a brow.

“Emily is not like most women. She can be deuced opinionated about things, but she will come around. I am marrying her. I have made up my mind, and I can be as single-minded as she,” he declared with more conviction than he felt.

“You are that,” Daniel said straight-faced, but there was a betraying twitch to his lips. “I trust you to take care of
matters, then. Perhaps it is premature to announce the nuptials until Drummond is rotting in Newgate, and you are safe from his threats. We need to determine a plan—”

The office door crashed open again, slamming against the wall. Brett really needed to start locking his door. He forgot his irritation when Jenkins stormed in, red-faced and fists clenched.

“The bloody custom officials are confiscating our goods,” he roared as he slapped a sheet of paper into Brett's hand and began to pace, gesticulating wildly. “The cotton, the tobacco. Everything. Claimed the shipment is under investigation. Something about a question about the goods not being able to fetch enough money to pay the customs duty due to the inferior quality of the cotton fibers.”

“Hell and damnation,” Daniel swore. He leaned over to study the paper Brett held.

“Drummond,” Brett snarled. He scoured the document, which claimed all the goods unloaded from the
Bostonian
to be impounded until further notice. He clenched his jaw, and then stiffened. “Wentworth! Emily said Drummond had mentioned Wentworth. Drummond must have colluded with the bastard, using Wentworth's clout to lodge the complaint. Wentworth has been seeking to undermine the business for years, and Drummond is aware of my history with him. Damned if he didn't use it to his advantage.”

Devil take it, he'd thought he had time. He had been a fool, and the cost of it could be dear.

“Christ. This could cost a fortune,” Daniel said, echoing Brett's fears. “I will speak to Lord Roberts and explain our history with Wentworth—if the bastard is indeed involved. Add to that our suspicions against Drummond, and it should give Roberts reason to intervene, or at the very least, forestall any bales going up in the Queen's Pipe before we can corroborate our allegations and discredit Drummond.”

Brett nodded and collected his jacket. “I would accompany you, but I need to head to the London Dock House and speak to the Court of Directors who oversee the docks. Jenkins, gather up all the documents that pertain to every damn bale
of cotton on the
Bostonian
, as well as a complete list of its inventory. The customs officials have their own paperwork, but in light of these allegations and our history with corrupt officials, I do not trust it not to be tampered with.” He paused, and as an afterthought added, “And find Baines. He is familiar with many of the dockworkers. He might be able to dig up, sniff out, or bribe someone for information.”

“Right, sir.” Jenkins nodded, spun, and departed the room.

“I owe you, or rather, Emily, an apology,” Daniel said. “Drummond looks like a fashionable coxcomb, so I did not take him seriously. I will not make that mistake again. Let us finish the bastard, so we can plan a wedding.”

“Do not put the horse before the cart,” he grunted as he shrugged into his jacket. “Emily has to accept me first.”

“Do not forget to speak to Taunton,” Daniel added cheerfully.

“One crisis at time.” He sighed.

Leave it to Daniel to find another obstacle for him to clear. Earls did not like their daughters marrying untitled commoners. Hopefully, Taunton, like his daughter, was different, but it did not matter. He would smooth over the man's reservations, handle this company crisis, destroy Drummond, and convince Emily to say yes.

This was not in the order of his priorities, but necessity took precedence. After all, he could not very well marry Emily while he and his company were under attack. Therefore, he needed to move quickly.

E
XHAUSTED
from haggling with the customs officials, it was early evening when Brett wound his way home to Keaton House. The matter was far from resolved, but he had been given the full six weeks' time that was allotted for unloading inventory to address the complaints lodged against his company.

“My pardon, sir,” Burke said upon his arrival. “I was advised to inform you that when you arrived, you were to meet Taunton and Bedford in the earl's—”

“Curtis, in my office. Now,” Taunton barked, peering into the foyer and leveling a steely-eyed look on Brett. He then turned on his heels and stormed off.

“As I was saying, the earl's office,” Burke finished with a dip of his head, his features impassive.

At the sight of Taunton's thunderous expression, Brett slid his finger beneath his cravat. Christ. Could Taunton believe the allegations? Indignation burned hot on Brett's cheeks, but Taunton was a fair man, he would hear Brett out.
Wouldn't he?
With a heavy step, he made his way to
Taunton's office, wondering if the bloody day would ever end.

He paused at the sight of Emily. She was seated on the infamous settee, a handkerchief balled in her fist.

She rose to her feet when Brett entered. “I am sorry. So very sorry. It is all my fault. You warned me not to pursue my course, that it had repercussions, that it was dangerous,” she said, her eyes brimming. “And now you are paying the price for it.”

“I
told
you Curtis tried to talk her out of investigating matters,” Daniel said to Taunton. Daniel stood at the hearth, one arm draped over the mantel, his stance casual. Clearly, he sought to dispel the air of tension that permeated the room.

“For
that
matter, and that matter alone, he still lives.” Taunton sat behind his desk, his face implacable. “What the devil were you thinking, not bringing this matter to my attention immediately? Allowing Emily to—”

“Please!” Emily cried, whirling on her father. “I am three-and-twenty and responsible for my own actions. I have explained to you that I made Mr. Curtis give me his word not to speak to you. I forced him into an untenable position because he believed I would pursue my course regardless of whether or not he provided his assistance. Mr. Curtis's sole objective in helping me has been to protect—”

“—you from yourself. Splendid,” Taunton grumbled. “I have been so busy trying to stop Jonathan from stabbing everyone with a wooden sword that I have been remiss in watching over you girls. I thought you two were more levelheaded.” He balefully eyed Emily, then Brett, and finally his gaze came to rest on Bedford, who dropped his arms and shifted.

“Now see here, my situation with Julia was entirely different. It did get rather heated, but—”

“I take full responsibility for all my actions, but even in light of recent events, I have no regrets,” Brett stated. “It is an honorable goal that Lady Emily is pursuing, seeking justice for the man she loved.”

Emily's eyes widened, and a tremulous smile curved her lips.

Taunton leaned back in his chair and studied Brett. “The pursuit of a just cause is indeed a worthy endeavor. However, it is the manner in which this has been—”

“
Please
, we have been through this,” Emily said with strained patience. “I understand that I have needlessly upset you, and for that I am sincerely sorry. I know you only have a care for my welfare, but as you can see, no harm has befallen me. You should be thanking Mr. Curtis for his protection, and you can do so by helping to ensure that these fraudulent charges against his company are dropped. There are investors to consider, both here
and
in America. They will be harmed should any profits be lost. And . . . and we cannot sit back while perfectly good inventory is burned up in that odious Queen's Pipe or kiln or whatever it is!” Her voice rose, righteous indignation emanating from her.

Stunned, Brett's lips parted and he blinked at Emily, his heart thumping.

Emily had approached her father, not to aid
her
cause, but for
him
—to rescue him. She was the bravest of women, risking the lion's den.

At Taunton's baffled look, Daniel explained Emily's reference, amusement lacing his words.

Taunton harrumphed. “It appears my daughter has acquired a keen understanding of the shipping business and its investors. I take it I have you to thank for this unique education, Mr. Curtis?” He arched a brow at Brett.

Daniel had a sudden fit of coughing.

Brett shot the idiot a quelling look, while cursing the heat that climbed his cheeks. He opened his mouth to respond, but the moment had passed, because Taunton had turned his narrow-eyed scrutiny on Emily.

“It is a sad day when a man has not one daughter, but two, who court danger, and then take their father to task for reprimanding them for doing so. It is during situations like this that I most miss your mother. She was far better at disciplining you girls than I.”

Emily grinned. “I miss her, too.”

Taunton continued. “Now then, these charges. I have no doubt that they are trumped-up. I will have a word with Lord Wentworth, see if I can determine his understanding with Drummond. I will also speak to the custom officials and ensure that a thorough investigation of the matter is completed before any inventory is destroyed. With Bedford and myself pressing for answers, they will have to take heed. Emily is right in regard to the business repercussions. As she has sagely pointed out, there are investors to be considered, and they would not be pleased to see profits recklessly burned.”

Brett swallowed. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in the integrity of the company and me. You will not be proved wrong.”

Emily circled her father's desk and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I promise to be more forthcoming with my plans.”

Taunton harrumphed again, somewhat mollified. “I suggest you start now. What do you plan to do about Drummond? As you say, justice needs to be served.”

Emily explained about Winfred. “We are meeting with him next Tuesday.”

Brett's eyes shot to hers. “Did he contact you?”

Emily's eyes widened, her expression one of guileless innocence. “Did I not mention that he wrote? It must have slipped my mind in the upheaval of recent events.”

Slipped her mind? Brett gritted his teeth, tamping down the urge to snort. Nothing escaped her. He had wondered what had happened to that bloody note. He would not put it past her to have picked his pockets while he slept.

Taunton drummed his fingers on his desk. “And this meeting is to take place in a private and well-guarded location?”

Brett took some satisfaction in seeing Emily's smug expression falter. “No. It is not,” he said. “Winfred plans to meet us in the Wapping district by the docks. It is not the safest of venues, and so I plan to take a few men with me when I go to meet him.
Alone
.” His eyes bored into Emily's.

“And how, pray tell, will you identify him?” Emily challenged, undaunted. “Do you plan to approach every man you see? Or is he planning to wear a red flower in his buttonhole?”

“She has a point there,” Daniel said, clearly enjoying Brett's predicament.

Brett nearly snarled at his friend. “You do not seriously think that she should accompany me to the dock area, where—?”

“The decision is not Daniel's or yours to make, but mine,” Emily said coolly. “You agreed to assist me in order to keep me safe. Between your hired men and yourself, I trust in your ability to do so. You need me to identify Winfred. Besides, he is already skittish and likely to flee again if I am not there. I promise to be very careful. We can take my father's coach. No one would dare accost us in that.”

Brett snapped his mouth closed, well aware that she was once again cleverly leading him in the direction she desired. Like leading a damn draft horse to water.

Taunton interceded. “She is right. I will give you my coach and more men. Bedford, you will accompany them. With a show of force, not much should transpire.”

“He is the expendable one, not me,” Daniel protested. “That is why Emily sought his assistance in the first place.” When Emily whirled on him, Daniel winked.

She laughed. “I know you would have aided me heroically, but with the birth of the twins, Julia needed you more than I. I did not want to put you in the position of having to keep things from her. That would have been far more dangerous than this investigation.”

“A wise woman. Very good of you to consider that,” Daniel agreed affably.

“Now then, is there anything else I need to know?” Taunton said.

Brett made a bold decision—or a reckless one. “Yes, sir. There is one other matter. When everything is resolved, I plan to marry your daughter. That is, once she agrees to my proposal. But I am a persistent man. I shall prevail.”

Emily's mouth gaped open. When she recovered, she glowered at Brett.

Unrepentant, he could not stop the beaming smile from curving his lips.

“Do not post the banns,” she said, a hard edge in her tone. “This is still under discussion. Now then, gentlemen, we are quite finished.” Without a backward glance, she sailed regally from the room in a swish of skirts.

“She is nothing if not decisive,” Daniel said. “I understand why the two of you butt heads. You will have to work on your wooing. More flowers and poetry.”

“Takes after her mother and sister,” Taunton said, sighing. “I suggest a stronger arsenal than flowers and poetry, but you have my blessing. The two of you are well suited. Single-minded to the point of reckless.”

Brett took no umbrage at Taunton's comment. After all, he had what he sought—his consent.

E
MILY
DID
NOT
have a light because she could identify Brett's room by counting the doors. She had wisely decided against carrying anything that could be construed as a weapon. The man had the audacity to declare himself to her father, like some heroic suitor of yore. The decision was hers alone to make. Daniel had to win Julia's hand and Brett would have to win hers.

She began to knock, but thought better of it. She turned the knob and slipped inside, closing his bedroom door quietly behind her—and locking it. She opened her mouth to berate him, but then shut it. After all, the fortress was secure. One could take a moment to admire the view.

Brett stood with his trousers on, nothing else. One arm was braced on the mantel, while the flickering firelight played over the planes of his body in an undulating dance. He was beautiful, smooth as marble, yet so vibrantly alive.

A riot of sensation spiraled through her. Desire. Excitement. Need. She ached to slip her arms around him, to feel him cradle her close and love her. She blinked, her throat tightening.

She had done the right thing in rejecting him. She was freeing him from a life of uncertainty. From wondering when the blackness would strike again, and if it did, would she have the strength to battle it back a second time?

But oh, to be loved by such a man.

He must have heard the catch in her breath, for he turned, and straightening, he gave her that slow, devastating smile. And when he opened his arms, she was lost.

She dashed across the room and flung herself into his embrace, his arms folding around her. She might not have him forever, but for tonight he was all hers.

“I had hoped you would come.”

“It was a mistake. We have both made them today. You should not have spoken to my father.”

“You spoke to him on my behalf. I could only do the same on yours. It is customary to ask a father for permission to marry their daughter. Since I have not had luck in the past, I thought it best to alert your father of my intentions, so I know if I face friend or foe. I can only handle one vengeful earl at a time.”

“You know my father would like nothing more than to see me wed. And he thinks favorably of you since you assisted Daniel with winning Julia.”