Not Quite A Gentleman

Twenty

If Today’s Modern Woman is in a situation where she must end a love affair, the best way is to make a clean, fast break. Of course, this is more easily accomplished if her heart isn’t involved.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

Late that night, Nathan paced the confines of his bedchamber. When he approached the fireplace, he glared at the mantel clock. Less than a minute had past since he’d last glowered at the enamel timepiece, which meant that not only did his most potent frown not make time pass any quicker, but that he still had to suffer through another quarter hour for midnight to arrive. Until he left his bedchamber and joined Victoria in hers.

Swiping his hands through his hair, he strode back toward the window, the silk of his robe flapping against his bare legs. What the hell had he been thinking, agreeing to wait until midnight to go to her? He’d retired twenty minutes ago, leaving Victoria, Lady Delia, and his father in the drawing room. It had taken him all of ten minutes to undress, wash, and don his robe. And so he’d commenced pacing, frustrated at his lack of sangfroid, as he’d always considered himself a very patient man. But there was nothing patient about the need, the want, to be near her, touching her, that clawed at him.

He paused at the window and looked down at the gardens bathed in a silvery glow of moonlight. He was about to turn away when a movement below caught his eye. As he watched, a dark clad figure carrying a sack emerged from the shadows and moved stealthily across the lawn toward the dense forest. For an instant the moon shone directly on the figure and Nathan froze in recognition. Seconds later the darkness swallowed the furtive form, and Nathan, mind spinning with questions, stared at the spot where he’d disappeared.

What the hell was Colin up to?

There was no point giving chase-he’d never find his brother in the forest in the dark. But that didn’t mean he didn’t intend to look for answers. Grabbing the oil lamp from his end table, he exited his bedchamber and headed down the corridor. When he reached Colin’s bedchamber, he entered, closing the door behind him.

Raising the lamp, he walked slowly around the darkened room, surveying the area through narrowed eyes. Little had changed since he’d last seen the room three years ago. The same cherrywood furniture, the same dark green patterned Axminster carpet and heavy velvet drapes. At first glance everything seemed in perfect order, but upon close inspection, he noticed the fringe on one end of the hearth rug was mussed, something the maid would not have left uncorrected.

He approached the round mahogany table near the wardrobe, where a decanter of brandy and a crystal snifter rested on a silver tray. Lifting the snifter to his nose, Nathan inhaled. The scent of potent liquor lingered in the glass. Holding the glass up to the light, he noted the drops of pale gold still in the bottom. A quick bracer for the dash across the lawn, Colin?

Crossing to the French windows, Nathan noted with a grim smile that they were locked from the inside. “But you’re an expert at locking doors from the other side,” he murmured. “And unlocking them, for that matter, as I suspect you didn’t waltz in the front door and come up the stairs.”

He opened the doors and stepped onto the balcony. Walking to the stone balustrade, he raised the lantern and minutely examined the stone. Directly in the center of the railing he found what he was looking for-bits of rope fiber. “Now I know how you got in-but what were you looking for?”

Lowering the lamp, his gaze swept the stone balcony and halted on the pale object near his feet. He crouched down and picked up the folded ivory vellum. A sense of dread rushed through him as he slowly unfolded the paper, hoping he wouldn’t see what he suspected he would. Seconds later his worst suspicions were confirmed.

It was the fake letter and map he’d drawn. The same fake letter and map that had been stolen from him.

Bloody hell. Filled with foreboding, he hurried back to his own bedchamber. After entering the room, he went immediately to the wardrobe and pulled out the pair of riding boots in the far corner. Grabbing the heel of the left boot, he gave a deft twist then felt in the hidden compartment. As he’d suspected, it was empty.

“The letter and map have been stolen,” Nathan said the instant he closed the door to Victoria’s bedchamber behind him. “Our grid map as well.”

Victoria stared at his sternly set features, her heart sinking in dismay at the news. “When?”

“Must have been during dinner this evening.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I should have suspected, should have considered he’d do this, but I didn’t want to believe he’d be so foolish.”

“Who?”

Victoria went still at the tortured look in his eyes. “Colin,” he said, his voice laced with anguish. “He was here. Tonight. I saw him on the lawn, heading toward the forest. When I searched his bedchamber, I found this.”

She took the vellum he held out to her and frowned at the unfamiliar words and drawing. “What is this?”

“It’s the fake note and map that was stolen from us.”

She felt her eyes go wide as the implications showered down on her. “That means Colin-”

“Is involved. There are only two ways he could have that note. One-if he hired that bastard to steal it; or two-if Colin stole it from that bastard.”

She searched his gaze. “And which do you believe?”

“That Colin stole it from our thief,” he said without hesitation. “My brother, in addition to his many other talents, is a formidable pickpocket. Very useful during his spy days. Apparently still useful.”

Pieces clicked in Victoria’s mind as she stared at the vellum. “So you believe,” she said slowly, “that Colin somehow crossed paths with our thief, stole the letter and map from him, and has been trying to find the jewels himself-only using the wrong information…” She looked up and met Nathan’s gaze. “Except now, he not only has the real letter and map and therefore the correct information, but our grid map showing the areas we’ve already searched.”

His taut features relaxed a bit and unmistakable admiration shone in his eyes. Reaching out, he clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss to her fingers. “My darling Victoria, have I told you that I love your ability to cleave through even the thickest fog and get right to the heart of the matter?”

Her breath caught at the intensity burning in his gaze and she shook her head. “I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned it.”

“Consider it mentioned.” After pressing another brief kiss to her fingers, he released her hand and paced in front of her.

She watched him in silence for a full minute, his expression so troubled, her heart hurt for him. The next time he passed in front of her, she reached out and laid her hand on his arm, stopping him. “You’re thinking that Colin had something to do with the failure of the mission three years ago,” she said softly. She gently squeezed his arm in a sympathetic gesture. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, looking mildly surprised. “Actually, no, I’m not thinking that at all. Whatever faults Colin might have, he is a man of honor and integrity. Unfortunately, he also tends to be daring. I’m thinking that he somehow stumbled onto the truth of what happened three years ago and instead of telling me, he’s decided to take matters into his own hands.”

“But why wouldn’t he tell you? Enlist your aid?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I can only guess, but I’d surmise that it’s because three years ago he doubted me. I think that over the past three years, as much as he wanted to believe I was innocent of any wrongdoing, that kernel of doubt remained. When he discovered what really happened, and realized I hadn’t betrayed the mission…” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sure he was seized with guilt. Knowing him as I do, I think he’s acting on his own as some sort of self-imposed penance. A way to make up for his lack of faith in me. He wants to find the jewels, expose the traitor, and clear my name.”

She searched his gaze. “You feel this way because that’s exactly what you would do for him.”

“Yes, I would.”

“I’m barely acquainted with your brother, so as an objective observer I feel the need to point out that while you could be right-and for your sake I pray you are-it is equally as possible that you’re wrong. That Colin is responsible for everything that has happened.”

“The chances may be equal, but I’m not wrong. Which means Colin could be in grave danger.” Clasping her hand, he drew her toward the mahogany slant-top desk near the window. “I’m going to recreate the decoded letter and grid, and I want you to redraw the map. Then we’re going to study them until we figure out what we’ve missed. Figure out the best place to search next. My every instinct warns me that time is short. I don’t think we have the time to search all five of the grids left on the map.”

For the next thirty minutes the only sound in the room besides the crackle of snapping wood burning in the fireplace was the scratching of their quills on vellum. Victoria then spent the next two hours minutely studying the series of squiggles she’d drawn. They looked like gibberish. She slowly turned the vellum, looking at the lines from all angles until her eyes felt gritty.

“I’ve tried a dozen different codes, but can’t decipher anything further,” Nathan said, his voice filled with frustration. “Anything from the map?”

“No… although an idea just occurred to me.” Sitting up straighter, Victoria stared at the lines. “All along we’ve assumed that based on the words ‘rock formation’ in the letter, this drawing depicted the particular formation where the jewels were hidden. But what if it depicts something else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps a patch of tall sea grass?”

Nathan scooted his chair closer to hers and peered at the drawing. “If it’s sea grass, we’ve either missed the jewels or Baylor’s information was wrong.” He slid over the grid map he’d recreated and pointed to the still unexplored areas. “All of the five remaining squares are inland, too far away for the sea grass to grow. But I think you may be right about this not being a drawing of the actual rock formation.”

They both studied the lines, and she mused, “What if it’s a series of trails, or paths?”

He nodded, then pointed to a spot where the lines intersected. “It could be three trails that converge here.”

Victoria looked at him with a growing sense of excitement. “Do you know of such a place on the property? Where three trails converge near a rock formation?”

He rose and paced across the room, his brows bunched in a frown. Forcing herself to remain silent so as not to interrupt his thoughts, she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he mentally scanned the estate’s abundant acreage.

“Near the north corner,” he muttered, then shook his head. “No, no rocks there.” He paused at the desk and again studied the grid map. “There are so many trails,” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “But nothing is coming to mind. I’ll need to think on this-” He stopped abruptly and stared at the squiggles she’d drawn. “Water,” he said. “Not dirt trails, but water. Streams.” He repeated the word “streams” a half-dozen times, each time sounding more excited. Then he pointed to one of the squares they hadn’t yet searched on the grid map, the square covering the farthest northwest end of the property.

“Here. There are three streams that converge here. It marks the boundary between my family’s property and the Alwyck estate.”

“Is there a rock formation there?”

His gaze met hers. “There are the ruins of a small stone cottage. Just three crumbling walls, no roof… by God, I think that must be it!” There was no mistaking the excitement in his voice, in his eyes. Taking her face between his hands, he pressed a hard, fast kiss to her lips then let out a short, triumphant laugh. “You’re a genius.”

“Me? You’re the one who figured it out.”

“But you provided the idea. The inspiration.” He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. “I’d say we make an unsurpassedly marvelous team.”

Something in his tone, in the sudden seriousness of his gaze, curled heat through her, robbing her thoughts. Next week she would think of an outstanding reply, but for now she simply nodded. Next week you’ll most likely be on your way back to London, her inner voice whispered. At the unwanted reminder, her entire body tensed.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Shall we leave immediately for this abandoned cottage, or do you wish to wait for daybreak?”

His brows snapped down in a frown. “Victoria, I want you to stay here.”

She stepped back and his hands slipped from her cheeks. Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Stay here? While you recover the jewels by yourself? I’m afraid not.”

He reached for her, but she stepped back again, eluding his grasp. “Victoria, I need to know you’re safe-”

“And I need to know you’re safe.”

“Now that the real letter and map are no longer in my possession, anything could happen. I can’t risk having you in the middle of a possibly dangerous situation.” This time when he reached out, he caught her shoulders. “After what happened with that knife-wielding bastard…” He briefly squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. “Your father swore me to protect you, and I won’t fail again.”

Lifting her hands, she clasped his strong forearms. “You didn’t fail the first time, Nathan. As far as I’m concerned, the safest place for me is with you. I’ve come this far on the search, I refuse to be denied seeing it through to the end. We’ve been partners all along and shall remain as such. Besides, with both of us looking, the search will go twice as quickly.” When he seemed about to argue further, she added, “You might as well agree, because if you don’t, I’ll simply follow you. So the only question that remains is whether you think it better to depart now and conduct our search under cover of darkness or wait until dawn.”

“I’m surprised you’ve deemed to leave that decision up to me,” he muttered in a disgruntled tone.

She cast her gaze demurely downward. “You’re much more experienced in these matter than I.”

“Yes, I am. Which is why-”

“You’ll choose when it’s best for us to depart.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Have you always been this headstrong?”

“I think I must have been, but until recently I’ve kept the trait hidden.”

“I think you should have kept it hidden a bit longer.”

“No you don’t. You told me that discovering new aspects of my nature was good. I recall precisely what you said-that my past experiences haven’t allowed me enough freedom to know my true nature. That I’ve done what’s expected of me rather than what my heart desires. That speaking my mind, acting on my impulses, can be very liberating. And that I should feel free to say anything to you that I wish.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “hoist on my own petard,” and she bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling at his displeased expression.

“You will not, for any reason, wander away from me.”

“I swear. And let’s not forget the lady’s pistol in our tool bag. I wouldn’t hesitate to use it if necessary,” she said, praying that was true.

That reminder didn’t cheer him nearly as much as she thought it should. Indeed, his frown deepened. “But you might not be able to get to the pistol in time, and I don’t want you to actually carry it on your person. You might shoot someone.”

“Wouldn’t that be the point?”

“I meant like yourself. Or me.”

“Oh. Well, then I’ll just load my reticule with rocks and keep it at the ready.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “A reticule? Filled with rocks?”

She raised her chin. “Yes. Surely there’s something about such a thing in your Official Spy Handbook.”

“I assure you there is not.”

“Well there should be. A reticule is small, easy to handle, and looks nothing like a weapon. And I won’t hesitate to cosh any brigands, believe me.” She hiked up a brow. “Hopefully you won’t make me start with you.”

She fancied she heard his teeth grinding in annoyance. “We’ll depart at dawn,” he said in a voice that resembled a growl.

“That would have been my choice as well.”

“How delightful that we agree on something this evening.”

“I’d wager that we could agree on something else.”

“I wouldn’t be too certain. I’m not feeling especially agreeable.”

She slid her arms around his neck. Raising up on her toes, she pressed herself against him and lightly bit the side of his neck. “I’d wager we could agree that there are more interesting ways to pass the hours before dawn than arguing. Do you not think so?”

His hands slid to her waist, the heat of his palms warming her through the thin satin of her robe. “I don’t know.” A low groan rumbled in his throat as she nibbled on his earlobe. “I’m going to need some more convincing.”

She skimmed one hand down his chest, over his abdomen, then lower, to boldly fondle him through his silk robe. He sucked in a quick breath, his eyes glowing like twin braziers.

“Better than arguing?” she whispered, stroking his hardening length. “I’m convinced,” he said, and crushed her to him.

They silently left the house just as the first mauve smudges of dawn touched the sky. Her heart pounding in anticipation, Victoria hurried along next to Nathan, who held her hand in a warm, comforting grip. In her other hand she carried her dark blue velvet reticule-filled with rocks.

“We’ll walk rather than take the horses,” he said in a hushed tone as they bypassed the stables. “That way we can more easily survey the area surrounding the ruins without risking detection.”

Victoria nodded her agreement, and then concentrated on the path in front of her. They moved along rapidly, passing the lake then continuing on a trail that veered off to the right. She judged a half hour passed before Nathan slowed their pace. Sullen gray streaked the sky, and the air felt cool and heavy with approaching rain. She could hear the sound of water gurgling over rocks, indicating a nearby stream. He pulled her behind a huge elm and, keeping one arm firmly around her shoulders, pointed. “The ruins,” he whispered next to her ear.

Peering through the trees, she saw the crumbling trio of roofless walls. She could feel his tension, knew his every nerve was alert as his gaze carefully scanned the area. Finally, clearly satisfied they were alone, he led her toward the cottage.

They stepped into the U shape formed by the three remaining tumbledown stone walls. Nathan slowly surveyed the area, then pointed toward the remains of the fireplace in the center wall. “Let’s begin there,” he said, pulling their chisels and hammers from the tool bag. “The stones are set in a more irregular pattern, making it easier to conceal any that might be out of place.” He handed her the tools with a grim smile. “You take the right side and I’ll take the left-and good luck.”

For more than an hour the only sounds besides the usual birdcalls and the gurgling of the stream were the chinks of hammers striking chisels. A heavy gray mist saturated the air, dampening their clothes. Victoria noticed that Nathan had stopped hammering and she looked over at him. He’d turned so his back was to the fireplace. His gaze, narrowed and alert, scanned around them. Her stomach jittered at his tense expression.

“Is something amiss?”

“No. I just don’t like this heavy mist. I don’t think the rain will hold off much longer. Another hour or two at the most.”

“I’m not afraid of getting wet, Nathan.”

He looked at her and gave a small smile. “I know, my brave warrior. But rain would make us vulnerable. Make it easier for anyone to sneak up on us.”

“Well, then let’s just find the jewels and leave before anyone does.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned back to the fireplace. A quarter of an hour later, kneeling on the ground, she tapped her chisel into a bit of mortar surrounding a stone close to the ground and the plaster crumbled differently than before.

“Nathan,” she said in an excited whisper. “I think I’ve found something. The mortar around this stone feels softer.”

He dropped to his knees beside Victoria and looked at the stone she indicated. “And the mortar is a slightly different color,” he said.

Together they chiseled around the stone. When they’d loosened it, Nathan worked his fingers into the narrow side openings and pulled, rocking the stone back and forth, up and down. Slowly, slowly, he inched the heavy stone forward until it landed on the ground with a dull thud. He reached his hand into the dark opening, and Victoria held her breath. When he withdrew his hand, he held a dirt-encrusted, battered leather satchel.

She exhaled her pent-up breath in an awed gasp. “Are the jewels inside?”

He loosened the drawstring top and their heads bumped as they both looked into the bag. Even the gray mist couldn’t dull the sparkling glitter of the contents. Reaching in with an unsteady hand, she reverently lifted the first thing she touched-an exquisite strand of creamy pearls. Delving back in, she lifted an emerald necklace, tangled with a sapphire bracelet.

She tilted her hand so the jewels slid back into the bag then looked at Nathan. “Even though I’m seeing this with my own eyes, I can scarcely believe it.”

“Neither can I. But we can dwell on that later.” He pulled the drawstring closed, then tucked the cache under his arm. “Let’s gather our things and get out of here.”

While Nathan hastily shoved the hammers and chisels into the tool bag, Victoria scanned the ground for her rock-filled reticule. Spying it several feet away, near Nathan’s feet, she was about to reach for it when a familiar voice behind her said, “Victoria.”

Before she could so much as blink, she found herself shoved behind Nathan, who held his small pistol in front of him.

“Nathan, stop!” Victoria cried, darting around him. “Father,” she said, staring in stunned amazement at the gray-haired man standing a dozen feet away. Before she could utter another sound, a shot rent the air.

Victoria watched in horror as her father crumpled facedown to the ground.