Chapter Twenty-Seven

To Catch A Thief

Jasper waited until the duke made his dogs, Romulus and Remus, quiet. It had been seven weeks since he’d seen these frightful hounds, and they yelped all about the study, perhaps even devouring a book, before Frederica had calmed them.

She petted each while trying to keep her neck shrouded. An impossible task with Jasper’s strategically placed kiss to her jaw.

The dogs had surely missed her, lapping up her rubs on their dark coats.

And he noticed again that the dogs didn’t growl at Frederica.

Simone signaled, and the beasts left her and sat at his feet. “Hartwell, what’s going on here, and what has been going on with my daughter?”

Lord Mayor Thorpe took a biscuit as he leaned on the desk. “Why did you summon Barrister Smythen and me? It’s Christmas Day.”

Smythen squinted with a rakish brow popped. “Miss Burghley, your face is red. Recovering from a fever or being jilted at the altar? Perhaps Lord Hartwell has been helpful in smoothing over the anguish.”

The duke turned his head toward Frederica. This time when he petted Romulus and Remus, they roared as if they were hungry for meat. “Hartwell, explain.”

“Your Grace,” Jasper said. “I’ve fulfilled your orders, kept this lovely girl company, and comforted her about these nasty threats to her life. It’s a job I’ve taken great pride in, day and night, day and night.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed and clouded. “Frederica, get your things, we are leaving.”

“No, sir. I love Lord Hartwell. I’m staying.” Frederica put her hand on Jasper’s lapel. “Papa, you knew what would happen if I was left alone with such a man.”

Lord Canterfield made a loud tsk with his teeth. “She’s brazen with it. I told you, Duke, that Hartwell couldn’t be trusted. I told you he’d corrupt her. You should’ve left her with me.”

Frederica lifted her head and allowed Jasper’s arm to drape over her shoulder. “I think the duke made the right decision, leaving me in Hartwell’s capable hands.”

The look she shot Jasper made him almost forget that there were others in the room. She was a little too good at this. And he knew it made his grin wider.

Thorpe snickered. “You have a little Burghley on your hands, Your Grace.”

A twitch went across the duke’s face. “Hartwell, I just returned from my wedding trip. The duchess is still under the weather. And my daughter has changed. What’s going on?”

“Duke, it’s very simple. Your daughter has changed. One of the gentlemen here has been threatening my Frederica for months. And on the night of your wedding celebration, he broke into Downing with the intention of hurting her.” He tugged Frederica close and kissed her cheek. “He wants to love her as I have.”

“Hartwell, this is not a clever joke. Crisdon says that you have plenty of jokes. I’m not amused.”

“Nor am I. For this man has harassed your daughter under your nose for months.”

Canterfield turned to the duke. “Are you going to let him touch her like that in front of us?”

Simone gripped the arm of his chair and sat forward. “Is this true, Frederica?”

“Yes. Papa.”

Smythen tilted his head. “What type of threats?”

The duke waved at him as if to silence the barrister. “Why didn’t you tell me, Frederica?”

“You’ve been busy, and without proof of the culprit who threatened to gut me and my friends, you could do nothing, just as you could do nothing with Downing’s thief. Isn’t that true, Lord Thorpe?”

As she pointed at the Lord Mayor, the dogs pitched toward him growling.

“Your Grace, call your dogs back!” Thorpe looked like he would be ill.

The duke patted his knee, and both Romulus and Remus quieted and came back to his side. “Get on with this, Hartwell. You wouldn’t go to this length, and so publicly, if you didn’t know who’s at fault.”

“You’re correct. Let’s reintroduce the suspects. This barrister Smythen has corresponded with your daughter through her newspaper advertisement. He lied about being at your celebration where the villain drugged your daughter’s drink. Smythen was a guest and had access to her drink.”

Smythen kicked back in his chair, the dogs lunging at him. “I told you I lied because I was very forward with the young lady, and I hoped she was too drunk to remember.”

Frederica calmed the dogs with a pat. “You thought me drunk, sir? What were the symptoms?”

Smythen scratched his head. “Slurred speech, dilated eyes, but Hartwell kept us from you. I guess we know why.”

“Duke,” Jasper said, “did Burghley drink?”

“No.” The duke swatted the air as if to dismiss Smythen. “She always kept her wits. And Frederica doesn’t drink, not an ounce. Just like Burghley.” The duke sat on the edge of his seat. “So she was drugged that night.”

“Someone would do that in your house, Duke? Unlikely.” Canterfield shifted in his chair. “Why—”

“My daughter doesn’t drink.”

Lord Thorpe looked at Smythen. “If the barrister meant it as a joke, putting something—”

“I didn’t do that, Lord Mayor.” Smythen frowned and looked ready to leap up, but the dogs barked as if they’d eat him alive. “I tried to get the famed courtesan’s daughter out to the gardens, but you, Hartwell, prevented anyone from getting too close. I was wrong in that respect, but I didn’t touch her.”

Thorpe shook his head. “Young men.”

“Why don’t you want to admit your guilt, Lord Thorpe?” Frederica’s voice was strong. “Describe to the duke the lovely brooch you gave your wife for her birthday.”

“I’ll do one better. Hartwell asked me to bring it. I think he wants to have one made for his new paramour.” Thorpe dug into his pocket and pulled out the pearl encrusted pin.

Frederica took a few steps toward Thorpe.

The dogs remained placid as she crossed in front of them, so different from when they seemed to size up Smythen for an appetizer.

“My lord, that brooch was taken by the thief from my jewel box.”

The man shook his head and stood. “You can’t be accusing me.”

The dogs snapped their jowls, and he sat back down.

But the duke stood, crossed over to Thorpe, and took the jewelry. “That’s Burghley’s. I gave this to her. Look at the B83 engraved at the back—her initial and the last two digits of the year we met, eighty-three.

“You met in eighty-eight.” Frederica looked as if her lungs had quit. “Papa, no, it has to be eighty-eight.”

Jasper wrenched at his cravat. He knew that the shift in years meant the half-sister lost was a full blood sister, a darker skinned sister. He ached for his wife and moved to her, despite the dogs’ hostile growling.

“What are you accusing me of? Your Grace, you know I wouldn’t hurt your daughter. She’s your baggage.”

Canterfield leaped up. “This show is ridiculous. Burghley’s tart of girl is just as untrustworthy and horrid as the wh—”

“Stop right there, Canterfield.” Jasper put Frederica behind him and moved toward the fool. The dogs barked as he took each step, but Jasper didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let the fiend say anything more to hurt Frederica. “Thorpe, who did you win the brooch from? We all know you gamble and are crass enough to give your winnings to Lady Thorpe.”

The Lord Mayor’s eyes became small and drifted close to his nose. “Canterfield, where did you get it from? You said they were old family jewels. Canterfield?”

“Duke,” Jasper said as he posted close enough to punch the silent Canterfield if he ran. “Were your dogs away the night of the celebration?”

“No.” The duke hushed Romulus. “They were outside in the garden.”

“Yes, I know.” Jasper didn’t take his gaze off Canterfield. “They barked at me when I climbed out of Downing’s window. They made so much noise that I assumed everyone had seen.”

“I know, Hartwell. That’s how I know you left Downing so quickly. That’s why I assumed you’d corrupted my daughter. But too much happened before I could prove it.”

“There’s nothing to prove. Look at her,” Canterfield said. “Look at the marks on the harlot’s neck. She couldn’t wait a minute. Burghley’s chattel.”

“Was she to wait for you to have at her, to murder her spirit then her flesh?” Jasper poked the man in his chest. “The only persons in this room Romulus and Remus don’t bark at are the duke, Miss Burghley, and Canterfield.”

“Canterfield?” The duke turned from admiring the pin in his hands to the man he’d called a friend. “Answer, Canterfield. Did you do this?”

“Why would I bother?”

Jasper kissed Frederica’s wrist. “Oh, she’s worth the bother.”

Canterfield cursed and spit at their hands. Then Jasper punched the man so hard he flipped over the chair.

The dogs roared, but one finger motion from the duke made them go silent.

“Romulus and Remus,” Jasper said, “will bark at anyone they don’t know. But they’ve known him for years. That’s why Canterfield was able to walk past them without any upset, so he could scale Downing’s wall and break into your daughter’s bedchamber.”

She wiped her hand with a handkerchief and threw it at Canterfield. “Papa, I wouldn’t think twice at accepting a glass from him because he’s an old family friend. He’s been sending threats for months, ever since I told him I didn’t want to be his mistress.”

The duke towered over his brother-in-law. “Canterfield. You did this?”

At first, Canterfield shrugged, but as he stood, wiping the blood from his broken nose, he sneered. “Yes.”

The dogs barked as Jasper pushed past the duke and grabbed Canterfield in a headlock. “It’s been you all along. A trusted friend of the duke. The man who could move about Downing without the dogs barking, or reenter Downing to taunt Frederica Burghley by returning her empty jewel box.”

Canterfield struggled to free himself, but nothing would break Jasper’s hold.

“Yes. When she disappeared, I decided to goad her to make her show. I lost the brooch to the gambling Thorpe, knowing he’d be fool enough to give it to his wife, who did charity work at Magdalen’s. Yes, the same charity the chit goes to regularly. I followed her on many occasions.”

“So you sent notes to Nineteen Fournier? And Mr. Pregrine?” Frederica’s voice was strong.

But Jasper knew her, knew the rage behind her hazel eyes. He tightened his hold on Canterfield’s skull. “Answer her.”

“I needed to know you weren’t seducing others. You were to be mine alone. So I burned down the vicar’s parish, and I spent time in the worst part of town to spy on you. I just didn’t know Hartwell would take his mistress here where his children lived.”

Frederica came near and slapped Canterfield’s face so hard that the impact jerked Jasper backward. “I told you I didn’t like you. I never led you on or flirted with you. You had no right to me.”

“I have every right. You’re a harlot’s daughter. And that rank affair killed my sister, sent her into despair because she couldn’t match the duke’s intensity for that illicit love. This jewelry should’ve been my sister’s, not a mistress’s.”

The duke shook his head. “My second wife died of the chills, not depression.”

Canterfield pressed on Jasper’s wrist but couldn’t power out of the hold. “My sister died of Dover’s pills. An overdose of those opioid pills. That’s what I put in Miss Harlot’s drink. I would’ve had the whore that night if not for Hartwell besting me. He took you from me when I bumped into him in the hall. I should have killed you then.” He flipped a knife from his waistcoat and thrust it backward.

Jasper prepared for the blade to strike his ribs, but Frederica had jumped between them. Her fisted hand took the blade and protected Jasper’s heart.

“No, Frederica, no.”

Canterfield ran.

“Get Canterfield. Kill!” The duke motioned, and the dogs gave chase.

Jasper set Frederica to the ground.

Smythen came near and pulled the knife free. “It went deep.”

Taking the scarf from her neck, Jasper bound her hand as tightly as he could to staunch the wound.

The yelping noise and Canterfield’s pleas meant the dogs had kept the fiend from fleeing.

Jasper bundled Frederica in his arms. “I wasn’t worth that, Frederica. I wasn’t worth it.”

She opened her eyes even as her lips trembled. “Of course you are. Now stop him. Then press charges against him for attacking a peer. That should be something the Lord Mayor can do.”

“He should be able to press charges for attacking my wife.”

The Duke of Simone kneeled beside them. “Wife? Hartwell, you married Frederica?”

“Jasper?” Frederica fainted, and Jasper’s rage took over. “Hold pressure on her hand, Smythen. Your justice isn’t fast enough.” Jasper arose, took down a rapier, and ran toward the barking.

Remus, the biggest Cerberus, had the footmen cornered, but Romulus, that angel dog, had Canterfield. His large canine teeth had sunk into the man’s leg. Froth and torn breeches and marred flesh showed.

But that wasn’t enough.

Jasper glanced at Ranson on the stairs.

“Go out a side door. Get a doctor. Canterfield has stabbed my wife.”

“Wife?” Canterfield kicked and tried to move closer to the door but Romulus dragged him back to the center of the hall.

Jasper held the razor-sharp point to Canterfield’s face. “You’ll pay for everything.”

“What are you going to do, Hartwell? I’m an unarmed man. Everyone knows you to be fair and jovial.”

“That is true. I’m typically good natured, but I’m Crisdon’s son, too.” He swung his rapier and scored an F on the man’s forehead. “There, you wanted to claim Frederica Burghley. Now you’ll bear her mark. I smote you.”

Dabbing at the seeping cuts, Canterfield sneered. “That’s the best you have? Your father didn’t teach you how to exact revenge.”

“Oh, I’ve watched him, and I’m just getting started. My wife says I’m slow and deliberate.” Jasper slashed at the man’s arm, cutting every inch of her initials on to the fiend. “Now you’ll remember Frederica Eugenia Frankincense Burghley Fitzwilliam every time you look in the mirror or pen a horrid letter.”

But Canterfield found some strength in his shame and dragged Romulus to a wall and yanked down a hatchet. He struck at the dog, but Jasper blunted it.

“Was the harlot good, Hartwell?”

“I’ve had no harlot. You’ve mistaken a goddess for something mortal. My Frederica was ripe and ready to be loved, but in her way, the way that she wanted—with the love and admiration of the deepest commitment a man can make.”

Canterfield swung the dull blade like a wild man, but Jasper was fast, fleet of foot. He should finish him, but he wanted the pain and humiliation to linger. Canterfield should suffer three times as much as Frederica. So Jasper thrust his rapier, cutting more clothing away, inflicting more permanent scars.

The fiend dropped the blade. “Mercy, Hartwell. Mercy. Get this dog off me.”

Jasper had played too much. The opportunity for a clean kill under the guise of self-defense was done. He lowered his rapier.

Canterfield laughed harder than the growls coming from Romulus. “Crisdon said you were good with the sword, but you’ve lost again, you big ox.”

“Justice will finish you. The Lord Mayor is here to take you into custody once the duke gives the command for his dog to stop chewing on you.”

“Thorpe won’t exact justice. A thief is the best any of you can do. So you couldn’t kill for that half-Black—”

Jasper’s rapier pierced Canterfield’s ear, and it gushed. “You must not have heard me when I told you not to talk of her.”

“Finish me, you coward.”

“I’d rather let you bleed out or let the ambitious barrister make an example of you.”

“I’ll not rot in jail. And I’ll find a way to punish her again.”

“Remus, Romulus, stand down.” The duke’s command made each dog stop and go quiet.

Canterfield scrambled to the door, smiling, until the duke said, “Dogs, attack Canterfield. Canterfield’s meat.” He snapped his fingers. Romulus and Remus charged.

The fiend shuffled out of Grandbole. Maybe he made it to the courtyard before they had him.

The sounds of the struggle were loud and violent, then, there was nothing.

Quiet nothing.

Jasper picked up the dull sword and gave it to one of his petrified footmen to clean, then turned, heading to Frederica.

As he passed in front of the duke, the duke grabbed his arm. “When my hunting dogs are done, there will be little left of Canterfield. I take care of my own, Hartwell.”

Jasper shrugged his hand away. “If that were true, Duke, you’d have two daughters. And they’d both be extraordinary.”

“I didn’t know, Hartwell. I don’t think I would—”

“But Burghley believed you would. Respect my wife, my treasure, from now on, or collect your dogs and never come back. Not until you know how to love your daughter right. That’s how I take care of my mine, Your Grace.”

Jasper trotted back to his study and crouched at Frederica’s side. She was pale, so pale.

Smythen still applied pressure. “I think I’ve gotten the bleeding to stop, but that wound is deep. I don’t know if that hand will be useable, not like it was.”

“Thorpe, Smythen. Go help the duke clean up outside and send the doctor up to my wife’s room as soon as he arrives.”

“Canterfield?” the barrister asked.

“He’s playing with the duke’s dogs right now. I’d be careful leaving until the duke brings those sweet pups to heel. Wouldn’t want either of you mistaken as another villain.”

The Lord Mayor nodded and followed Smythen out.

Scooping her up, kissing her brow, Jasper pinned her injured arm between them. “Frederica, you crazed wonderful woman, don’t you ever put yourself in danger for me.”

“Jasper…I saw him pull that knife. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.”

“You see the smallest things and risk so much. How would I have fared, Frederica, not having told you how much I love and admire you?”

She smiled. “That’s a lecture worth having.”

“I love you, Frederica. Every little thing there is about you, even your stubbornness. I wish I could’ve made Canterfield confess without putting you at risk. If I’d known he’d hurt—”

“You think Thorpe or Smythen or even the duke would have lifted a finger to save you? No. No, they wouldn’t. One thing I’ve learned from my father was to protect my own. You’re mine, Jasper James Fitzwilliam. Mostly mine. I don’t mind sharing with the girls, since they’re mine now, too.”

“Frederica, I don’t how or why you love me, I’m only glad that you do. I’m going to make you better.” He started taking her to her room. “And we’re going to be happy. My dearest friend, my darling. Just keep those eyes open until the doctor arrives.”

“I’m happy. And now I’m free.”

She trembled and curled deeper into his arms. Her pulse was weak, and Jasper couldn’t breathe.

Frederica couldn’t die so he could live.

“Lady Hartwell, our love is just beginning. You hear me? Just beginning.”

With her unblemished hand, she raised an index finger and smeared a droplet from his cheek. “Tell Ranson to dust again. Can’t have my Lord Hartwell plagued with dust.”

It was more than dust. It was the total love of a woman who’d protected his heart more than her own. “Open your eyes, Frederica. Know that my ministry to love you will be everything.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Jasper. I will.”