March’s pulse pounded in a frantic rhythm as Michael’s whisper accosted her. When the door clicked, he pivoted and stalked to a small buffet table. He poured two fingers of brandy in a glass and downed it one swallow. As if an afterthought, he turned and lifted the glass in the air as if offering her one. She shook her head once. Without a word, he returned his attention to refilling his glass.
Wary, she never once took her gaze from his backside. This was a side of Michael she’d never seen—a man brimming with loathing and ready to explode in an anger she didn’t quite understand.
“What’s happened? Why are you so angry?” Her muffled voice sounded hollow to her ears. She hadn’t felt this terrified since her parents had died, and she alone had carried the responsibility for her siblings.
Gently, he placed his glass on the table and slowly turned to her. “I’ve been given information that leads me to believe that the woman I asked to share my life is stealing from me.” With his broad shoulders and dark visage, he slowly stalked toward her like a panther ready to annihilate her with a single bite.
“Wouldn’t you agree that makes an excellent reason to be angry?” His subdued voice held a wrath that was terrifying.
“Only if it were true,” she whispered. “What makes you think I’ve done that?”
“Your own words.” He stood before her and his blue eyes seemed to radiate fire.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she protested.
“How Lawson is the one behind all of this?” He took a step closer, and she took a step back in retreat. “Come now, I wasn’t born last night.”
“Today I was working at Lawson Court hoping it’d clear my mind. When I passed by Bennett’s desk, I realized I hadn’t given you back your seal. When I opened it, everything was gone.” She wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise as she had to make him see reason. “Rupert was there and informed me someone from your solicitor’s office asked him to clean out the desk and bring it to him. That same person, a Mr. Jameson, told Rupert to go to Chelmsford and look at the marriage register.”
“Jameson informed me of those facts today.” He lifted one eyebrow and regarded her. “After our first meeting, you used my seal after I told you to bring it back to me.”
She started to pace in an effort to escape the cold desperation that had invaded her body. “I was desperate to keep Rupert from humiliating Faith with the foxtail. I just acted.” She forced herself to stop. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t steal from you. Please, you have to believe me.”
“Why didn’t you bring the seal to me?” Like a vise, the slow cadence of his baritone voice wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.
She drew a painful breath frantic for some relief from this paralyzing unease. “I didn’t think of the ramifications. I’m sorry.”
“March, every withdrawal instructed the funds be deposited into your new account at Fleming’s Bank.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “By coincidence, you find a culprit who’s stealing five thousand pounds from my accounts. Moreover, it just happened to be last night. Now, I have to ask—how did you know what accounts had errors? There’s no conceivable way you could have examined every account book at McCalpin Manor.”
“Fleming’s? I’ve never stepped foot in that establishment. I don’t bank anywhere else but at Emma’s.” Her pulse raced, and she grew lightheaded. “I told you last night. I’m quick with numbers.”
“Undoubtedly, a trait that served you well in dealing with an idiot like me,” he whispered.
“Don’t you dare say that about yourself.” She took a step toward him to offer comfort and reassurance that the horrible things he repeated weren’t true. He didn’t give her the chance as he turned abruptly and walked to the fire.
He bent his head and clasped his hands behind his back.
“I’ve only taken money from the trust account I thought was mine. The exact amount is one thousand one hundred and twenty-seven pounds—”
“And seventeen shillings,” he finished for her. “But that’s just a small part of it, isn’t it?”
“Michael?” Her whisper turned into a plea, and she didn’t care. She’d get down on her hands and knees and beg him to listen to her. She had to make him understand that she would never do such vile things—not to him or anyone else for that matter.
“Why, March?” He didn’t turn from his study of the fire. “You could have had jewels, gowns, carriages, a generous allowance, not to mention a rare position in society that women around the continent would die for. You would have been the Duchess of Langham someday.”
His solemn words cut her in two. He actually believed she’d stolen from him. “Do you think I care for any of that except being your wife?”
“Last night, I didn’t. But today?” He shook his head. “Today, I don’t know what to believe.” He finally turned and stared at her. “Did none of this”—he waved his hand between them—“mean anything to you? Did last night mean nothing but a way to force me to marry you so you wouldn’t get caught?”
“What are you saying?” She could barely speak. His words were so demeaning she wondered if she could withstand the assault. “Did you look in your household account book to see what I’d written?”
“Why? Will I find more of the same stealing and embezzling that we didn’t cover last night?”
“You should read it,” she whispered.
“I’m finished with that nonsense,” he murmured.
He turned away, and her heart sank as if tied to an anchor seeking the ocean’s bottom. She closed her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t fall into a heap. This morning, she’d written him a note, a very personal note, one that described her complete commitment and love for him.
The door swept open, and the Duke of Langham appeared. While most men simply entered a room, he commanded it. The duke locked the door behind him.
“What is going on?” The duke’s gaze darted from Michael’s to hers.
Immediately, March executed a proper curtsy. “Your Grace.”
Michael acknowledged his father with a dip of his head but didn’t say a word. Immediately, his face turned into a haughty mask, one she’d seen repeatedly worn by the nobility that had to deal with undesirables like herself.
Without pause, the duke walked to his desk and settled into the massive chair. How a man so large could move so quietly and gracefully had to be inborn. Once he settled and straightened the documents on his desk, he directed his attention to Michael. “Explain to me how this happened.”
Michael lifted a brow and regarded March. His unwavering gaze full of disdain penetrated hers. “Perhaps Miss Lawson might be able shed some light on the errors.”
“Errors?” The duke’s voice was even, but the lethal sharpness of a steel sword underscored the word. “These aren’t simple errors, McCalpin. This is an uncontrollable bleeding from the estates, one you should have caught immediately. Not only is there damage to McCalpin Manor, but Falmont is impacted. Severin and Merritt met me after my last appointment and are in the library with every account book. As we speak, they’re combing through every account and every entry trying to find out exactly what happened. The auditor, Mr. Wilburton, is on his way to join them. No one will rest until we determine the actual amounts stolen and who did it.”
The duke waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, he started to drum the fingers of one hand on his desk. The rhythm began slowly, but as the silence grew between the three of them, the movement quickened until finally, the duke slapped his hand on the desk.
“Is there something I’m missing?” The duke stared at Michael, whose attention was devoted to the fireplace. Lost in another world, he didn’t answer his father. The duke exhaled and directed his attention to her. “March, you’ve reviewed the books. Can you shed any light on this?”
She stole a glance at Michael. The comfort and affection she’d experienced in his arms last night was a distant dream. A trickle of sweat meandered down the side of his face. His olive-toned skin had faded into a pasty pallor that marked his handsome face with irrefutable pain. He clenched his fists so tightly that the white of his knuckles was visible across the room. He was completely unraveling before her into someone she didn’t recognize.
What she’d remember for the rest of her life was how motionless he stood. Without taking a breath, he appeared frozen, ready to crack into a thousand pieces.
Not only was she being destroyed, but the man she loved and had thought she’d spend her life with suffered from her annihilation, too. Second by second, the ugliness of her previous embezzlement actions and the accusations of today were eradicating the strong, resolute man she had come to know during her stay in London.
Michael might not love her, but she loved him and she loved her family. Her love had to be strong enough for all of them. She was utterly ruined. Yet, Michael would preserve her family’s reputation and protect them from the taint of her illegitimacy and her embezzlement of her family’s money. He would ensure that none of her filth soiled her siblings. She had to believe that simple truth. Otherwise, there was nothing.
In that singular moment, she only had one choice. She had to release him from his promise to marry her. She had to preserve the integrity of her family, while protecting her sisters’ chances for finding a suitable match for marriage. As important, she had to protect Michael’s chance for happiness.
She straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin. She had to let him go. Otherwise, society would mock him if they believed she’d used him. His greatest fear he’d disappoint his father would come to fruition.
With what little armor of self-preservation she possessed, she captured the duke’s gaze. His blue eyes had darkened to the color of the sky during a pounding thunderstorm.
“The solicitor and bookkeeper have evidence that I’m the guilty party,” she announced. Surprisingly, she didn’t tremble when she uttered the words, even though it was as if she’d announced her own death sentence.
“And are you?” the duke asked.
Michael’s gaze flew to hers. The poignant flash of betrayal in the depth of his lovely blue eyes nearly leveled her. Soon, it blazed into a fire of hatred. She locked her knees so she wouldn’t fall into a pile of ashes.
To escape the inferno that threatened, she turned her attention to the duke.
“Tell me. Are you the one who stole those monies?” The duke’s eerily quiet voice permeated the room. The soft words hit her with the force of a cannon, and she immediately started to shake.
Michael straightened his shoulders and walked to the side of his father’s desk. Together, side by side, the power emanating from both could have blown London Tower into a rock rubble. If she had any chance to withstand such a force, she could focus only on the duke. One glance at Michael would render her heart and her very soul in two.
“I’m guilty of many things, Your Grace.” For one, loving your son. Two, stealing money from an account I believed was mine. Three, for being a bastard. “But I didn’t steal anything from Lord McCalpin or the duchy.”
“How did you even know where the records were?” The duke fired the question to her.
“I went through them last night at McCalpin Manor.” Her voice didn’t waiver at the admission. They all knew last night that she’d stayed with Michael at his estate without a suitable chaperone.
“I thought to do a little work while at McCalpin Manor. I brought them from London when I went to Chelmsford to retrieve March,” Michael answered, his voice distant. “She’s also been to McCalpin House with me. Alone,” he added.
It was another stab to her heart. Like Cesar, she was suffering through her own ides of March. How appropriate.
The look of astonishment on the duke’s face pierced her confidence.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not now. She would collapse into nothing later.
The duke furrowed his brow in disbelief. For a moment, she wanted to cry out and deny everything again. She finally found the courage to chance a glance at Michael, but thankfully, he had bowed his head.
The duke exhaled. “March, do you know where the monies are?
“There’s eight hundred and fifty-eight pounds in my account at E. Cavensham Commerce. I’ll have the amount sent to Lord McCalpin immediately.”
“And the rest?” the duke asked.
“I have no idea, Your Grace.” It was the only truth she possessed. She wasn’t the one stealing from McCalpin, nor did she know where the missing money was.
A grim silence took possession of the room, broken only by the intermittent crumple of logs under the blazing flames. Fitting, since her life had just collapsed into the fires of Hell.
“March, with what was discovered in Chelmsford and at Lawson Court, your cousin’s claims have standing.” The duke’s voice softened. “Is there anything else you can share that will help clear up this matter?”
The duke thumbed through Michael’s household account book. She held her breath. Inside, her love note contained the promise she’d never hurt or divulge Michael’s secret.
In a subtle movement, Michael stiffened as if preparing for an onslaught of questions. Thankfully, the duke pushed the journal away from his reach.
The duke cleared his throat. “McCalpin, you make the decision as to what shall happen next.”
She couldn’t breathe or swallow as she waited for Michael to refute her denial.
The silence stretched into years as she waited for his next words.
* * *
“Under the circumstances, I think it best for all if Miss Lawson returns to Lawson Court until we have more information.” The ice in McCalpin’s veins melted enough that he could return his gaze to March. The sharpness of his words seemed to have impaled her. She stumbled backward with her eyes wide.
There was little else he could do. His father had his household account book in front of him. At this point, he couldn’t think or barely breathe with her so close. It would be so easy to accept her word, but he had to find the truth for himself. He was responsible for the marquessate, and one day he’d be responsible for the duchy and all the people who worked for the Duke of Langham.
For his own sanity, it became paramount that he remove March from the library. He took her by the elbow and ushered her to the door.
When they reached it, she gracefully turned to face him. The movement forced him to release her arm.
“Why are you doing this to me?” The agony in her whisper nearly brought him to his knees. “Why are you sending me away? I can help you.”
“It’s the best solution for now. You can’t be involved in the investigation.” Every second that she stared at him made his mind more muddled. “You need distance from this house and London. My solicitor, his bookkeeper, and my brother believe you’re the guilty party.”
“You also believe me guilty.” Her honeyed alto voice normally soothed, but not now.
“March, I don’t want to believe it.” He stepped closer to ensure his father couldn’t overhear them. “I don’t know how to prove your innocence.”
“I can help you.” Her shallow breath indicated her stress.
Was it a lie? She’d lied to him before. She’d used his seal and sent a letter under his signature after he’d instructed her not to.
He closed his eyes in a silent prayer that this was all a bad dream. “It’s best if you go now. I must have time to resolve this. You above all others know I have a duty to the title, duty to my family, and a duty to the estates and all the people whose livelihoods depend upon the Langham duchy. Because of those responsibilities, sometimes hard decisions are required.”
When his gaze returned to hers, he was the one to stumble backward. The revulsion in her normally warm eyes stunned him.
“You’re choosing duty over me.” Her words were a bitter accusation. “My lord, I’ve told you how to find the thief.”
Suddenly, guilt fell upon him as if he’d been the one to steal and lie. Perhaps he had by holding everyone’s high regard under false pretenses. The simple truth? He’d stolen March’s newfound security.
Nausea threatened to overtake him. He had no idea how to untangle them from this mess.
* * *
Before March left Michael and her shattered heart in London forever, she had to secure one more promise. “Please, my family can’t suffer because of this,” she whispered with as much dignity as she could muster. “Allow me to tell them.”
He stared at the floor.
“Promise me they’ll not suffer,” she repeated more forcefully than before. She’d not leave without his agreement.
Without looking at her, he nodded.
“I’ll be gone within the hour.” Without a glance back, she left the study and the life she’d dreamed of as she toiled for years on the estate. Why did she think she deserved any happiness?
Just as the Leyton vicar had warned, it made little difference whether it was an apple or a necklace. She was as soiled and dirty as if she’d actually taken the missing five thousand pounds from the Langham and McCalpin estates. She’d stolen property from her family through a trust that wasn’t hers, and it was within the Langham family domain.
When she’d taken those funds by fraudulently signing Michael’s name, she’d taken the first step into her own damnation. Now she had to find her siblings and tell them of her exile and the reasons why. Only afterward, when she walked the grounds of Lawson Court, could she silently descend the rest of the way to meet the devil. Perhaps then, she’d be able to shed the cold that had invaded her veins.
Acting as if nothing were amiss, she walked down the hall with her head held high. Inside, gossamer-thin pieces of her heart broke apart and floated away—lost forever.
* * *
After March had silently left his father’s study, McCalpin spoke with him about hiring Macalester to find the remaining stolen monies. Both agreed such an independent party was necessary. After taking his leave, he roamed Langham Hall, hoping that March would find him and privately explain her actions. She’d explained quite a bit earlier, but still a biting nag wouldn’t quiet and relentlessly pounded his head. Why would she use his seal to steal his money? He’d taken care of her family without exception. Why did she need the money?
When she’d left the room, he’d retrieved his household accounts journal and his relief had surged in waves. The land stewards and the auditor would not discover the true extent of his idiocy—at least not today. More importantly, his father, the invincible Duke of Langham, wouldn’t have to decide whether his heir was unworthy to bear the title of Marquess of McCalpin and all its responsibilities.
That was only part of his burden. Today his heart had crashed as if hurled from the heavens to the cold ground. Two hours had passed when Pitts informed him that, as he had demanded, March had left the premises after she’d spoken to her siblings.
Numb, he found himself back at McCalpin House with a glass of brandy, trying to soothe the pain drumming through his head. If he had any luck, the spirit would take control of his senses and tamp down the continual ache in his chest.
“My lord?” Buxton had silently entered the study. “Lord Lawson is here to see you.”
McCalpin stood quickly. Since March had left London, the first hint of relief swelled within his chest. Bennett would share his sister’s conversation and her current mood.
The young viscount stood resolutely in the doorway. His big green eyes and piercing gaze belied a wisdom that not many adult men possessed.
“Come in, Lawson,” McCalpin coaxed. He approached the young lord and extended his hand. Bennett tentatively reached for it, and after a firm shake, dropped it as if it were scalding hot.
“McCalpin—” The boy immediately turned red as his voice broke into a squeak that foretold his coming passage to adulthood. He swallowed, then started again. “I’d like to discuss my sisters.”
McCalpin didn’t blink. Bennett’s request for such a conversation about all three Lawson sisters was unexpected. He’d fully anticipated that the boy would launch into a one-sided conversation about March. “Of course. Come sit by the fire.”
Bennett nodded and proceeded to take a seat in the chair next to McCalpin’s. With a deep breath, the young lordling stoically commenced, “After my eldest sister left Langham Hall, I discussed our living arrangements with Faith and Julia. We believe it best for all that we take up residence at our family townhouse as soon as possible. Perhaps you would hire an appropriate chaperone for my sisters. Under the circumstances, it’s best I return to Lawson Court with my eldest sister. I plan on leaving tomorrow.”
McCalpin choked on the last swallow of brandy as the shock of what Bennett was asking sunk in. Finally, he recovered the ability to talk. “I thought you were comfortable at Langham Hall. Have you discussed this with March?”
“She really has no standing in this discussion, does she? When she was forced to leave Langham Hall, I took over the role as head of the family.” Bennett raised one eyebrow and regarded him. “I can’t leave her alone.” The boy swallowed, and fear flashed briefly in his eyes. It was the first sign of weakness since he entered.
“Bennett, there’s no cause to worry. I won’t allow anything or anyone to harm her.” McCalpin leaned close to the boy. “She’d want you to stay here and continue your studies.”
“With all due respect, my lord, I’m the only man she can rely on now.” The boy stared into his eyes, but the fear was still present. “She told Faith and Julia that Rupert said you were going to charge her with stealing.” The boy sniffed as he was close to tears. “I’ll not allow her to suffer any further humiliation. You can have my money to pay for the missing funds. Nor will I allow her to suffer the constant threat of Rupert’s taunts or live by herself. She needs someone with her.”
“I have no plans to charge your sister with theft or harm her in anyway.” She’d done enough harm to both of them to last their lives. His gaze drifted to the window. How had something so perfect turned into a lie, one that cut him to the very bone. He exhaled, but the pain refused to leave him. “Your sister can handle herself.”
“She won’t have enough to eat. She has no money. She told us that she’s repaying all the missing money including the amount she borrowed from the trust fund. She plans to find full-time employment in Leyton.” By now, the boy was practically frantic. “Julia is beside herself in grief. She can’t stop pacing the length of her bedroom. She keeps asking Faith who will take care of March. Poor Faith doesn’t have an answer, but I do.” He stood defiantly and declared, “I will.”
He gripped the boy by one shoulder and looked directly in his eyes. Bennett’s love for his sister reminded him of his love for Emma. The boy’s fear that something evil would befall March was very real. McCalpin’s own doubts and worry started to break free in his chest.
“I know it’s hard to believe now, but I care for your sister and would never allow her to suffer or be hurt. You and your family are under my protection and that includes March. Understand?” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder once more. “If it’ll ease your worry, I’ll go see her tomorrow.”
Bennett swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed into prominence. The boy nodded and stood. “Thank you, but you should know that I don’t approve of what you’ve done. She’d never steal, and she’s never cheated anyone. I’ve known her my entire life. She’s the most honorable person I’ve ever met.” He wiped his check to hide the evidence of his emotion. “Please see about employing a chaperone. If you don’t, I’ll find a solicitor to help me. Imagine the headline in The Midnight Cryer the next day. ‘The young Lord Lawson must seek his own legal counsel to break free from the tyranny of the Marquess of McCalpin, who seeks retribution at all costs.’”
Stunned, he simply stared.
“The duke has taught me strategy in our chess matches,” Bennett offered with one brow lifted. “I’ve discovered tactics required to play the game can be used to pursue other interests.”
His father was having marvelous success with the little rogue. Even though his threat was unorthodox, it proved the boy accepted his family as a responsibility and would protect them by all means necessary.
“I’ll consider your request for the chaperone.” There was no way in hell he’d let the Lawson family out of his sight. Not after what had happened over the last several days. The vultures of the ton would slaughter Bennett’s sisters with their cuts and sharp retorts if not accompanied by either his mother or himself personally.
“Thank you. I mustn’t tarry any longer. I have a mathematics lesson in a half-hour.” Without a customary handshake, Bennett quietly exited McCalpin’s study. His disappointment in his guardian readily apparent for both of them to see as his eyes clouded with worry.
At the word “mathematics,” McCalpin’s heart had clenched tight as a fist. What if she didn’t steal the money, but he couldn’t prove it? It would ruin her life. The thought spiraled him into a near panic. How would he ever discover the truth? He couldn’t even add a column of numbers together, let alone discover an embezzler within his own employ.
Whatever moral high ground he stood upon was fast eroding in a storm of doubts.