In record time, the coach made it back to London. As soon as Michael saw her safely inside, he returned to McCalpin House. They’d agreed that tonight they’d share their plans to marry first with his parents, then with her siblings. Afterward, they’d privately discuss their findings in the account books with William. March headed for the upstairs living quarters. No doubt, her sisters and brother were beside themselves with worry.
As soon as she walked into her bedroom, all three siblings descended.
“March! Thank heavens you’re home.” Julia rushed into her arms.
March squeezed in return and kissed her sister on her cheek.
Faith was the next to join in the hug, followed by Bennett. All four clutching one another as if the missing pieces of their hearts were once again reunited.
March was the first to break away. “Come and sit on the bed with me. I have much to tell.”
All her siblings were solemn as they joined her on the massive bed. She said a quick prayer that she’d get through the story without falling apart.
“I met with the vicar in Chelmsford.” She glanced at her sibling’s dear faces. The pain and worry presented itself so differently on each precious face. Julia’s eyes told of her torment, while Faith appeared ready to cry out in pain, her mouth pinched. However, it was Bennett’s face that almost brought her to her knees. Stoic and proud, he fought to keep the glistening tears from trailing down his face.
She loved them and wanted to make this right so they didn’t suffer her humiliation. They did nothing wrong and shouldn’t have to pay for her new circumstance in life.
She forced herself to continue. “What Rupert said was true. I saw the register with my own eyes.”
“Oh, March,” Faith whispered.
Julia’s hand flew to her lips as if to keep her shock inside. Bennett turned away and discreetly brushed his fingers under his eye. That small movement burned through her chest like hot iron. Her own tears started to gather, but she drew in a deep breath and held it until she could finish.
“What shall we do?” Julia whispered.
Indeed, that thought had consumed her on the way back from McCalpin Manor. She wouldn’t tell her siblings about marrying until she and Michael could tell them together.
“I think it best if you and Faith continue to have Lord McCalpin escort you to social events. The duke and duchess will ensure that your reputations are protected.” She turned to Bennett who had learned quickly how to master his emotions. “You should stay and continue your studies with Mr. Tatum. I’m very happy with the progress you’ve made in all your subjects. I think it best that for the time being I return to Lawson Court.”
Bennett vehemently shook his head. “Not without me, you aren’t.”
The defiance in his words was something she hadn’t expected. “Bennett—”
“No, March. I’m head of the family. You’re my sister. I’ll not allow you to go back there alone.” His emerald eyes flashed in warning.
Bennett stood before her almost unrecognizable. A boy, but a boy whose behavior over the short time he’d stayed at Langham Hall hinted at the man he would become. His staunch proclamation he would protect her caused a slew of errant tears to make an unwanted appearance again. Her baby brother, the one she raised from infancy, would soon be an adult. It had to be Michael and his family’s influence. The unguarded love and affection they showered on her and her siblings were nothing short of a miracle.
“Bennett, perhaps you and I should talk with Lord McCalpin. Would you be agreeable to that?” Their father would be so proud if he could see his son today.
“Agreed,” Bennett said.
She released the pent-up breath and turned to her sisters. “So, tell me what’s occurred since I’ve gone.”
Faith and Julia stole furtive glances at each other. Julia swiftly scooted off the bed. “Nothing. Lord Queensgrace hasn’t sent word. If I see him at an event, I’ll cut him if he doesn’t cut me first.”
Faith stood and put her arm around Julia’s waist and drew her close. “Darling, don’t make any rash judgments. Give him a chance.”
Julia whirled swiftly and escaped Faith’s arms. “Will you give Dr. Kennett the same courtesy?”
Faith shook her head. “I haven’t heard from him either, so I take your point.” With an uneasy sigh, she turned to March. “The duchess is taking us shopping at Grigby’s in an hour. Then tonight, we’re to attend Lord Sinclair’s soiree musicale. Will you come with us?”
“No, I’ll spend the day at Lawson Court, then come back this evening for dinner.”
Both Faith and Julia tried to argue and change her mind, but much to March’s relief, they easily capitulated to her decision. Neither sister could afford another mark on their reputation if they wanted to make successful matches. If March were present, a scandal would erupt. No doubt, she was still the favorite topic of gossip for The Midnight Cryer. It made little difference whether the powerful Duchess of Langham was by her side or not.
“Bennett has a history lesson with Mr. Tatum soon. Julia and I should get ready for our outing with the duchess.” Faith reached over and kissed March on the cheek. “We’re so happy you’re home.”
Julia kissed March’s other cheek, and Bennett took her hand and bent over it like a perfect gentleman.
At the click of the door, the terror of the unknown from last night rose in a wave. What if she was always a pariah? Truly, what if she was always a constant embarrassment to her family and to Michael and his family? Her gaze skimmed the opulent gowns that the duchess had generously provided for the balls. Silks, satins, and lace would never hide her true self.
She was a sheep farmer, and a bastard one at that. March bit her lip and stared out the window. She quickly changed her gown and slippers for one of her old muslin frocks and sturdy half boots she wore when tending sheep. She’d spend the rest of the day at Lawson Court working.
Perhaps she’d find some peace there, or if she was lucky, a little piece of her old self, the one she’d lost two days ago.
* * *
Being in London for the past weeks had turned March into someone she didn’t recognize. She loathed admitting it to anyone else, but the pampering she experienced at Langham Hall had turned her tender. After a full afternoon of cleaning the sheep pens and the barn, and walking the fields of Lawson Court, the wind had burned her cheeks and her legs ached from all the walking. Her arms and hands throbbed in protest from all the physical work required to muck the barn and the sheep enclosures.
There’d been little else to do as Michael had sent Mr. Severin, his land steward, to oversee the estate’s operation. Like a tightly wound precision timepiece, the farm didn’t need her help anymore. Mr. Severin had hired staff to perform the daily work. Walking through the fields had allowed her time to gather all the emotions that she’d stuffed inside her heart and mind. It had taken hours, but she managed to make some sense of the chaotic events of her life since she’d arrived in London. When she’d made love to Michael last night, she’d found a comfort she hadn’t experienced since her parents’ death. To lie in his arms had made her feel that she had a place in the world. That someone actually admired and held her dear.
This had nothing to do with her family loving her, but everything to do with being perceived as a woman and revered. Michael saw her grief and struggles, then helped her because she meant something to him.
She’d not waste this opportunity. She’d seen too many women in her small town of Leyton live their entire lives alone without ever experiencing what she’d had last night. A man, who with infinite care and grace, had made love to her as if she was his greatest treasure to protect and nurture. She’d put everything behind her and concentrate on Michael and their upcoming marriage.
March took one final look at the rolling fields of her youth and remembered her parents. They’d be pleased with not only Bennett, but with the fine women Julia and Faith were today. Indeed, they’d be pleased with her choice of husband. There was no use wondering if they’d be pleased with her. They’d be ecstatic to discover their embezzling bastard had even found happiness and true love.
A kernel of unease flared deep inside. She had every right to be angry with her parents. She could easily let such feeling ferment and grow, but she extinguished such thoughts. She couldn’t change the past—only protect her and her family’s future.
Perhaps Michael didn’t love her now, but she’d make it her life’s work to show him what he meant to her. If she were lucky, maybe someday, he’d love her in return.
Whatever fate had in store for her, she wasn’t afraid of it.
Not anymore.
She walked into Lawson Court to say good-bye to Mrs. Oliver. When the housekeeper wasn’t in the kitchen, March ventured toward the dining room. She passed the study, then stopped. She’d never delivered Michael’s fraudulent seal, the one she’d had made to secure funds from her family’s trust. She opened the desk drawer, then opened the others in rapid succession.
There was nothing—no sheets of velum, no sealing wax, no extra quills or ink. Just empty drawers.
However, most horrifying of all, Michael’s seal was gone.
“Are you missing something?”
Her lips curled at the taunt. Immediately, she knew who stole the items without looking up from the desk. She should have come home sooner after Hart told her that Mrs. Devin had caught Rupert in the study.
She lifted her gaze to his and narrowed her eyes. “Come to see if you left anything?” She’d not let a bully come into her home after the havoc he’d created for her and her sisters.
“Actually, no. I saw you roaming the fields and thought I’d make certain you don’t steal anything else that doesn’t belong to you.” Rupert sniffed then scrunched up his nose. “You smell as if you’ve slept with those wooly fur balls.”
“What did you do with my things? The ones you stole?” Remarkably, she kept her tone even and calm. Inside was another story. She was seething. Once she found out some answers to her questions, she’d throw the bastard out of her home and out of her life.
“Where they belong. I gave everything to the Marquess of McCalpin.” His nose rose another inch as if the air were more rarified in his area of the study. “His solicitor offered to pay me if I retrieved the items you were using to steal from my family and the marquess.”
“What solicitor?” She didn’t bother to hide the curtness in her tone. Michael hadn’t mentioned a peep about sending a solicitor to the estate. Something that important, he’d have discussed with her. Rupert was lying.
He waved a hand in the air as if tired of her questions. “Someone from Russell & Sons. I don’t recall their name. They paid me a finder’s fee, which I was happy to collect. Made up for the aggravation of smelling sheep manure.” He whipped out a handkerchief and held it to his nose. “What you’ve done to this family is disgraceful!”
She ignored his theatrics. “Tell me his name, Rupert.”
“Jameson.” His unchecked vehemence caused a downpour of spittle showers. Luckily, their distance apart kept her from a soaking. “Mr. Jameson. He’s the one who informed me you stole from the family’s trusts.”
Even she had her limits. “Leave, Rupert. This is still my home, and I say who’s welcome and who’s not. You’re on the not list.”
“It’ll soon be my home. Mr. Jameson said they’re going to have you arrested for impersonating a noble and stealing charges. Once you’re on your way to Australia or Timbuktu, I’m seeking Julia’s hand.” He turned to leave.
“Wait.” She ran forward to stop him.
He turned and lifted a haughty brow. “I don’t answer to you as you’re no longer part of this family. I will be the man in charge once I get the marquess’s permission to marry Julia.”
She schooled her features and clasped her hands in front of her. “How did you know to go to Chelmsford?”
With a smirk, he regarded her as if she were a pile of manure. “Mr. Jameson. He told me he had good information that your parents were married there years after your birth. He needed me as a member of the family to come forward. And I was only too happy to help,” he sneered.
This morning on their way back to London, she’d told Michael what the Chelmsford vicar had shared about Rupert and a Marquess of McCalpin representative visiting and examining the marriage registry. Michael had been adamant that he hadn’t sent anyone to the church.
“Of course, when I discovered the truth, I couldn’t let your deception continue.” With a final smug smile, he turned and left her alone.
Her heart started to pound and a trickle of sweat slowly slid down her back. Someone was out to destroy her.
* * *
A lighthearted smile pulled at McCalpin’s lips as he walked up the steps of Langham Hall. He’d chosen well. March would be an excellent partner as they traversed through all of life’s joys and perils. Miraculously, confiding his secret, that black mark he carried with him every hour, lightened his burden. It only reaffirmed his decision.
Last night when she’d come to him, she’d been frantic for comfort. Holding her in his arms and making love to her had been perfect. He’d never let her suffer the taunts or the ridicule that society loved to bestow on people, women in particular, who found themselves lambs at the slaughter.
He’d protected himself for so long, it was second nature to protect her.
William approached with a deliberate step and a stern countenance. His brother could be a menacing sight when riled. “McCalpin, I need you to come to the study. There are some disturbing things that demand your attention at once.”
McCalpin followed William into their father’s study and closed the door. At the burl maple table in the center of the room sat their sister, Emma, with her husband, Somerton, who handled McCalpin’s personal investments.
Unease pushed aside all of his good humor when he saw the look of fury on his sister’s face. Her straight shoulders and the haughty tilt of her head foretold something truly serious was afoot. The fact that his solicitor Russell and the bookkeeper, Jameson, were present didn’t help matters.
He sat at the head of the table, and William took the seat to the right of him. The tension in the room was palatable. Somerton clenched a document in his fist.
“Did someone die?” A stony silence met McCalpin’s attempt at humor.
William took a deep breath, picked up a document, then set it before him. “This is a letter sent to Mr. Rupert Lawson from you demanding he stay off Lord Lawson’s property during the annual Leyton hunt. Note that the date is after the first time you met with March.”
His brother had his attention now. He’d never sent any correspondence to March’s poor excuse of a cousin. “Go on,” he demanded.
William placed another document in front of him. “This is a directive from you to have three thousand pounds withdrawn from McCalpin Manor’s household account and deposited directly into an account under March’s name at Fleming’s Bank. It was delivered to Emma’s bank by mistake.”
His heart pounded with a force strong enough to break through his ribs—and lay the carnage before everyone in the room. He examined the document. Perfectly centered on the bottom of the page was March’s signature of his name.
Somerton cleared his throat, then slid another document to him. “This is a request from you to withdraw twenty-five thousand pounds from your investments and deposit it into March’s account also.”
The regret on his brother-in-law’s face pierced him like a stab of a stiletto. McCalpin held his body taut as the pain coursed through every inch of his body. This was worse than a stab—a more apt description was a gutting. He wouldn’t believe she’d betray him—not like that. If true, then his carefully crafted persona of an intelligent lord who handled his estate matters with aplomb would crash to the ground.
“I didn’t proceed with the transaction.” The empathy in Somerton’s voice was unmistakable. “I told Emma of it last night. That’s why we’re here.”
Emma’s cheeks were crimson. “I don’t believe any of this. I know this woman. She wouldn’t steal. She corrected discrepancies in my own books.”
William pursed his lips. “Could that have been a ploy to gain your allegiance so these transactions wouldn’t be questioned?”
Emma snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not, Emma,” William answered. “But I’m also not blind.” He turned to McCalpin and lowered his voice. “There’s more.”
“There must be an explanation.” God, was that his voice? The weak protest barely escaped.
“My lord, Jameson was the one who discovered all these shenanigans.” Russell pointed at his bookkeeper. “He offered a reward to Rupert Lawson if he could find your seal. It was in her desk with the stationary she used to embezzle from you. Jameson went through the previous viscount’s legal papers and letters. That’s where he found the marriage certificate. Lawson offered to verify its accuracy by traveling to Chelmsford.”
He fought through the fog that had descended into his brain. How could March have done this? His shook his head to clear the miasma that was slowly choking him.
Russell turned his attention to Emma. “Lady Somerton, we believe it’s all part of her plan. She’s done these things to gain Lord McCalpin’s trust—”
“You’re wrong,” Emma bit out as she stood and faced McCalpin. The flash of her green eyes demanded his full attention. “Do you hear what they’re saying?”
The anguish in her plea caused her husband to stand abruptly. “Enough! You’re either going to have to calm down or we’re leaving.” Somerton captured her gaze. “This isn’t good for you or the baby,” he whispered.
The tenderness in his voice and the way Somerton searched Emma’s face bespoke a love true and strong, unbreakable in their troth together. The image seared McCalpin’s heart. This morning, he was so certain he shared that same fidelity with March.
After all the revelations, how could he? He didn’t want to believe the evidence, but in black and white it lay before him. He clenched his fists underneath the table to keep from roaring at the pain.
Jameson approached with an open account book. “Sir, these are the accounts at McCalpin Manor. I’ve a detailed description of each suspect transaction.” He placed the book in front of him and pointed at a page. “See here—”
McCalpin held up his hand to stop the bookkeeper. He’d enough torture in the last few minutes to last his entire lifetime. “I’m aware of it. Mr. Russell and Mr. Jameson, thank you for your efforts. Mr. Russell, try to find the funds. Hire a private investigator. I prefer Mr. Macalester. He’s discreet and works fast.”
“Should we tell the duke?” Russell asked.
“Not yet,” Michael said.
Russell nodded and gathered his belongings.
How would he ever be able to explain it while keeping up the façade that he was in control of the estates? With an angry swipe, he brushed away a trickle of sweat that trailed down the side of his face. The day Mrs. Ivers had predicated long ago had finally come to fruition. His father might reevaluate his confidence in his heir’s abilities. A suffocating weight of shame smothered him.
Jameson slipped a piece of paper in front of him. “My lord, these are the funds Miss Lawson has taken from the trust fund. It totals one thousand one hundred and twenty-three pounds and seventeen shillings. Since she’s illegitimate, her fortune is to be split between her siblings.”
McCalpin lifted his lip in a sneer. “I’ve no need for the dissertation, Mr. Jameson. I’m aware of Miss Lawson’s changed circumstances.”
“Very well, my lord.” Jameson apologetically nodded.
He didn’t spare a glance at Russell or Jameson as they left. He picked up the tally of March’s embezzlement and put it aside. How could she have duped him in such a manner? Yet, he couldn’t believe—couldn’t fathom such a betrayal.
William quirked an eyebrow. “How do you know about the books? I just became aware of them today.”
He held William’s gaze while schooling his features into a proper haughty ducal heir expression. He was ready for whatever lectures or scathing comments his brother might share. “March showed them to me. She went through the books.”
“All of them?” Incredulous, William voice trailed to a whisper.
“All of them,” he replied.
Emma released a sigh. “That proves my point.”
Somerton placed his hand over hers. “Macalester’s a good man. He’ll discover where the funds are.” He released a breath. “McCalpin, it’s possible the monies will leave England. Miss Lawson’s Mr. Hart is traveling to the States and may settle there. Bennett told us earlier this morning. While you were out yesterday, Hart came to visit the Lawson siblings.” Somerton stole a glance at Emma. “How are you?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Go ahead and tell them the rest of it.”
Somerton placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “The fellow inherited the majority of Erlington’s wool mills in the States. He’s getting ready to set sail later this week. If it was March, she may have given him the missing funds to hide over there.”
Emma gently batted Somerton in the chest. “Nick, that’s beyond ridiculous. Why would she do that? Her family is here.”
“My love, I’m just trying to follow the money,” Somerton offered.
“That’s the point, Emma,” William whispered. “To protect her family from bearing any of the guilt or shame when it’s discovered what she’s done. It makes perfect sense.”
“Let’s not convict her without at least hearing from her directly,” Emma pleaded.
McCalpin’s mind raced while his gut twisted. March couldn’t have done this, but the facts were staring him in the face. Now nothing made sense.
Her constant worry over money and the way she took the opportunity to get close to him at every turn were clear warning signs. She’d never even looked at another gentleman at all those balls she’d attended. Had her wayward trip to Chelmsford been part of her plan? When she’d come to his room, he’d seduced her ensuring he’d have no recourse but to marry her, thus absolving her of all wrongdoing.
His heart clenched and demanded he look deeper. She’d been so loving and vulnerable last night when he took her in his arms. All along, she’d never asked for anything for herself. It was always for her brother and sisters.
His old familiar enemy, humiliation, crowded his thoughts and took command. He had no idea how to rectify the damage. Hell, he didn’t even know who to blame or what to think.
Emma broke away from Somerton’s embrace and stood before him. She placed her hand on his arm. “McCalpin, she’d never do anything to hurt you. She loves you. Can’t you see it?”
His conscience demanded he focus on his duty. He could only see the wiles March had used to gain his trust, and he’d freely given it to her.
William cleared his throat. “You need to think this through, McCalpin.”
“Will, what are you doing?” Emma’s voice trembled with barely held outrage. “Since she and McCalpin started spending time together, you’ve never cared for her.”
William narrowed his gaze to hers. “Are you suggesting I’m jealous of her?”
“Not jealous.” Emma sighed. “That you’re not needed anymore. Perhaps ignored.”
“Must I spell it out for everyone? Think of everything that’s happened since that family has come into our lives.” William’s outrage grew in volume. “Embezzling from trust funds, household accounts, and investments funds? Think of the scandal when Lawson announced March was a bast—”
The Langham butler, Pitts, entered without knocking. “Lord McCalpin, Miss Lawson has arrived.”
March rushed in like a fierce wind of her namesake. “Michael, I have news—” She came to an abrupt halt and glanced around the room. “Hello, everyone. What’s wrong?”
McCalpin took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. He had to know the truth. Slowly, he stood and faced her. “I need you to answer a question for me.” Without betraying any of the anguish that tore up his insides, he continued, “Have you used my seal for anything after I told you not to?”
She tilted her head and regarded him. “No.”
“Think carefully,” he cautioned. He prayed she had the answers to prove her innocence to William and truthfully to him.
“I said no. Why do you ask?”
He exhaled his last bit of hope. He picked up the letter to Lawson. “Did you write this?”
March’s brow drew together. She approached silently and took the letter from his grasp. She lifted her gaze from the paper. “Yes, but I can explain—”
He whipped out the withdrawal demands from the household account and his investments, then handed it to her. “Are those your signatures of my name?”
The color leeched from her face.
“It’s an easy question to answer. Did you sign these? Yes or no?” he clipped.
“Michael, you’re scaring me,” she whispered as she searched his face. She turned her attention to the documents and swallowed.
The slight movement in her long elegant neck told him everything.
She’d done it.
He failed to brace himself as a chain reaction exploded inside. His lungs quit working, and he couldn’t move—couldn’t process a thought. As if in a free fall when the ground finally greets you in one crashing blow, his heart shattered. For an eternity, he couldn’t catch his breath. Finally, his body protested, and he inhaled. The effort did little to suppress the need to pound his fist through the wall.
“These are my practice sheets, but I didn’t write the directives to have those funds withdrawn.” Her gaze captured his, and her eyes implored him to believe her lies. “I can explain. Rupert stole these sheets and the seal from my desk—”
“How convenient,” Michael whispered to her. In a louder voice, he announced to the others, “I’d appreciate the courtesy if you’d allow me a private conversation with Miss Lawson.” His eyes never left hers as his siblings and Somerton exited.
What a fool. He’d allowed a beautiful but beguiling wolf under the guise of a simple farmer to devour his heart and soul all the while pretending to guard the proverbial sheep. The startling truth almost knocked his knees out from underneath him.
He’d given her the pistol and the powder to blow his entire world asunder. One word from her about his failings, and he was ruined.