The Devil's Thief, page 22
Ernest’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly for several seconds. Then he found his voice. His face turned purple and he began yelling. This was new. Usually he started out very rational, and only later resorted to yelling.
“You drunken, inebriated profligate!” he roared. “How dare you lose Aunt Pitty’s pearl! Have you no shame, no sense of responsibility? She entrusted it to you! It was your mother’s pride and joy! And this is how you repay her trust? Her devotion to you? And you don’t even care! You sit there completely at ease with your degeneracy and irresponsibility.”
“There is more to the story,” Alasdair said through gritted teeth.
“More to the story? Dare I assume that it involves debauchery of some kind? A woman at the very least?” Ernest said tightly, clearly trying to rein in his temper.
Alasdair took several deep breaths while they glared at each other. He kept telling himself he’d vowed not to get angry. He had known that Ernest would be upset. Although the fact that his anger seemed to stem from his esteem for Alasdair’s mother was a complete surprise.
“Yes, it involves a woman. But more than that I cannot say.” As much as he wanted to exonerate himself, Alasdair couldn’t. After all, it was his fault. He’d kept Julianna in his rooms that night because he had wanted her. And he’d taken her. And he’d promised her the pearl. Those were his actions and no one else could be blamed. Of course she’d taken it. It had been why she was there, after all. She hadn’t really known him yet, not well enough to change her plans even after they were intimate that night. At least that was the reason he’d settled on last night in an attempt to explain her actions.
“You cannot say? Who are you protecting, Alasdair?” Ernest held up a hand and lowered his head. “No, don’t tell me. It’s better that I don’t know these things when the constabulary calls.”
Alasdair snorted. “Have you ever received a visit from the authorities concerning me? I think not. I am smarter than that.”
Ernest had himself under control now, his fisted hands the only sign of his anger. “Tell me what happened.”
Alasdair licked his lips and formed the explanation in his head first. It left a lot to be desired, he had to admit, but it was the best he could do without lying, which he was determined to avoid. His experience with Julianna had taught him the value of honesty. “A thief broke in during the night. In the morning the pearl was gone. I tracked the thief with Sir Hilary’s assistance, but because of extenuating circumstances I was not able to retrieve the pearl, yet. But I am working on it.”
Ernest cocked his head and regarded Alasdair disbelievingly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Let me get this straight. You know who took the pearl?” Alasdair nodded. “But you won’t tell?” He nodded again. “You know where the pearl is?” At this Alasdair was able to shake his head no. Julianna no longer possessed the pearl, and he wasn’t sure whether Blackman had already sold it. “I see.” Ernest tapped a finger on the desk for several seconds. “May I ask what these ‘extenuating circumstances’ are?”
Alasdair rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It involves the honor of a woman, and my future happiness.”
Ernest blinked rapidly several times. “I see. Can you tell me what this has to do with your future happiness?”
“No.”
Ernest closed his eyes as if in pain. “Have you been drinking?”
Well, that was a tricky question. “Yes, but only because Hil and Roger insisted on celebrating my betrothal. Which is actually a secret. I’m not supposed to know her well enough to propose marriage yet. And, of course, she hasn’t actually agreed.”
His explanation did nothing to lighten Ernest’s pained expression. “Does your not-quite fiancée know that the pearl has been stolen? And that you are protecting this criminal?”
Alasdair had to smile at that. “Oh, yes, she knows,” he said emphatically.
He’d shocked Ernest once again. “And she isn’t bothered by this?”
Alasdair shook his head. “No, she’s quite happy about it.”
“So you really are getting married. Not to one of your fancy pieces, I hope?”
Alasdair bristled. “I do not have fancy pieces. I have lovers. I had lovers, rather. Now I have one lover. My future wife.”
Ernest put his forehead in the palm of his hand. “That is perhaps more information than I think your fiancée would wish for me to know. Particularly since she is not, apparently, your fiancée yet.”
“Yes, I think you are correct,” Alasdair said with a grimace. “This honesty business is harder than it looks. It certainly gets away from you, doesn’t it?”
Ernest picked up a sheet of paper and a pen. “We shall have to contact the authorities. You do not have to reveal what you know, but if the pearl can be retrieved, then we must make every attempt to do so.”
Alasdair stood rapidly and grabbed the end of Ernest’s pen. “No! No, we will not. I am the owner, and I do not wish to report it.”
“Don’t you want it back, Alasdair?” Ernest asked in confusion. “It was your mother’s, and her father’s before her, and so on. It has been in your family for generations. It is the Hamilton family legacy, and the source of their pride. And part of the Sharp family legacy now. How can you just let it go?”
That was when Alasdair realized that Ernest was trying to protect him. In his stuffy, overbearing way it was what Ernest had always tried to do, but Alasdair had been too arrogant and self-righteous to see it. He sighed and smiled affectionately at the earl as he let go of his pen and sat back down, which seemed to confound the other man even more. “I know all those things. And they are important to me. More important than I ever realized, actually. But I have found something more important. I have found love. And to report the pearl’s disappearance may put that love at risk, which I will not do.”
Ernest slowly set his pen down. “Your fiancée had something to do with the pearl’s disappearance?”
Alasdair stepped out on a limb and trusted Ernest. “Yes. And I cannot betray her and jeopardize her safety.”
“Are you sure she’s not using you?” Ernest asked cynically. “Is she relying on your love to keep you silent?”
Even before he was done, Alasdair was shaking his head. “No. Because the sad truth is that my actions alone lost the pearl. The truth is I gave it to her.”
“Why?” Ernest seemed genuinely perplexed. Alasdair supposed that his cousin couldn’t conceive of giving away the most valuable thing you possessed to have a woman.
“Because I wanted her.” His bald statement had Ernest shaking his head in bewilderment.
“I will never understand you,” Ernest said regretfully.
Alasdair smiled. “I hope one day you do,” he told him sincerely. “And you mustn’t worry. I’ve already put a plan in motion to retrieve the pearl. I shall have it back in no time.” He crossed his fingers behind his back and kept the smile on his face while he said it.
Ernest picked up the letter he’d been reading when Alasdair arrived, the one he’d brandished so angrily. “I was going to see if you wished to attach yourself to a charitable project that needs patrons. I thought it might be a good investment in your character. But with the loss of the pearl and your upcoming marriage I doubt you’ll have the time.”
“My soon-to-be fiancée is interested in charitable works,” Alasdair said, relieved that they seemed to have moved beyond the pearl.
“Hmm,” Ernest said, “so she doesn’t spend all her time stealing valuable family heirlooms?”
“I never said she stole it,” Alasdair growled.
Ernest waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, you gave it to her and it disappeared. I completely see the difference.” Alasdair did not appreciate his sarcasm. “Perhaps I should turn this over to her, then. Apparently I am an ogre for trying to turn a profit on a foolish and ill-advised venture. I’ve purchased a good-sized house in Ludgate only to discover it came with debts and a lien. Apparently the past owner was letting some foundling home operate there without paying rent. And now I have a letter from the young lady who runs the home, begging me for more time to come up with the back rent she owes. I have already given her more time. The rent was due days ago, and by rights I should have tossed them all out in the street.” He sighed. “But Wainwright is correct. I can hardly put women and children out on the street. She has asked if I know of anyone who might be interested in becoming a patron of the home. I suppose I shall have to pay the debts myself. What a shoddy piece of business that was on my part.”
Something was niggling in the back of Alasdair’s brain. Hadn’t Julianna claimed to need the pearl for rent? Rent that was due. And the pastries that day, they were for the foundling home, not a cat, and not for the ruffians on Tottenham Court, either. With a sense of foreboding he heard himself ask, “What is the young lady’s name? The one who runs the home?”
Ernest picked up the letter. “Harte. Miss Julianna Harte. Why, she lives near you, Alasdair. Do you know her?”
She hadn’t lied about the rent, then. Why hadn’t he made the connection? Alasdair began to laugh. “So it was all in the family, was it? ”
Ernest looked at him in confusion. “What?”
Alasdair pointed at the letter. “Ernest, let me introduce you to my almost fiancée.”
Ernest looked at the letter incredulously. “Miss Harte?” Understanding dawned. “She took the pearl to pay the rent.” He put his head in his hands again and laughed wearily. “So ultimately I am responsible for the pearl’s loss?”
Alasdair sat forward in his chair. “No, Ernest. I am. It’s this honesty business again. I lied and here we sit. I’ve really got to work on that. So does she, apparently. But I think I’m ready to admit my lie may have been the catalyst for my current predicament.”
“And will it get the pearl back if you master honesty?” Ernest asked.
Alasdair shook his head. “I doubt it. But I think it will help my marriage a great deal.”
Ernest stood and walked over to the sideboard where he kept his liquor. “Let’s have a drink to honesty, then, shall we? And you can tell me more about this fiancée and exactly how you plan to get the pearl back.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You can come out of the bushes, Wiley.”
Julianna sat on a bench in the garden at the foundling home, a toddler in her lap while several other children played nearby. This was her favorite thing to do when she was here, sit and play with the children. She didn’t often have the opportunity to do it; there was always so much work to be done. Right now she ought to be inside helping with chores.
She was relatively sure Wiley had been following her all afternoon, ever since they’d parted ways in Hyde Park. She’d come to tell Mrs. Eden about the upcoming move and the changes that were going to take place. It could have waited, but Julianna’s decision to come here had been deliberate. She had led Wiley exactly where she wanted him to go.
“Wiley,” she said, exasperated. “I know you’ve been following me all day. Come out of the bushes and tell me why. For heaven’s sake, you’ve spent enough time today hiding in shrubbery.”
A muttered curse came from the large holly bush.
“Watch your language,” Julianna admonished. “There are children present.” She smothered a laugh as Wiley yelped in the bush. “Honestly, the honeysuckle in the other corner of the garden would have been a better choice. The holly is quite sharp.”
Wiley emerged from the bush, yanking his jacket free from several sharply pointed leaves that had attached themselves to it. He did not look happy. “ ’Course I followed you. Can’t trust you not to go running back to Blackman’s, now can I?”
“Which ones are yours?” she asked, ignoring his question.
Wiley stopped and looked away. “Didn’t come here to see them,” he mumbled.
“Didn’t you?” She stood up holding the baby, who gurgled at Wiley and held his arms out. “Is it this little fellow?”
Wiley shook his head but wouldn’t look at her or the baby.
“Hmm,” she turned and surveyed the children playing. “Avery,” she called. A little boy of about three with blond curls came running over. His blue eyes widened when he saw Wiley still half-hidden in the bushes and a smile broke over his face.
Wiley finally turned to look at the boy. The eyes had given him away. After meeting Wiley at Blackman’s the first time, she’d visited the home and examined the children. She’d guessed Avery was his right away because of the remarkable blue eyes they shared. And the boy was sturdy, like Wiley. That made the baby in her arms his as well, since he was Avery’s brother. They’d been here almost a year.
“His name is Michael,” Wiley said quietly. “What the hell kind of name is Avery? Are you trying to turn him into a bloody fop?” Wiley crouched down and took his hat off. He held out a hand to the little boy. “But I suppose you can name him whatever you want. I gave him up, didn’t I?”
“You could have left a note, telling us his name,” Julianna told him without a trace of sympathy.
“Can’t write.” Wiley was very matter-of-fact about it. Julianna could have kicked herself. She kept forgetting where he came from, what he was.
“And this little fellow?” she asked, bouncing the toddler in her arms.
“Donovan.”
“Oh, I like that much better than Augustus. Hello, Donovan,” she cooed at the baby.
Wiley snorted. “Augustus? Where are you getting these names? You just making them up as you go along?” Michael had wandered over and taken Wiley’s hat from him. He sat down and started to pick the band off it. Wiley let him.
“I thought I’d start with A names,” Julianna explained sheepishly. “Naming someone is such a huge responsibility.” Curiosity got the better of her after a moment. “Why is their mother in Newgate?”
Wiley gave her a grim smile. “Remembered that, did you?” He shrugged. “Off’d a fellow over a little spat, she did.” He ran his thumb across his throat and made a gurgling sound. “When they come to get her, she was drunk as a loon, passed out next to the body. Forgot to tell anyone about the babies sleeping in the next room. Good thing one of me girls came to get me. I brought them here the next day.” He shuffled around and settled on the ground. “I’d heard about you by then. Better than some of those other places.”
Julianna could feel how round her eyes had gotten. “She slit his throat?”
Wiley nodded with a shudder. “She was always a bit off, that one.” He pursed his lips. “Pretty, though.”
“Did you love her?” Julianna was aghast at Wiley’s tale, and she held little Donovan tight.
Wiley made a face. “Nah. Love? What is that, anyway?” He sat on the ground and tugged little Michael into his lap. “She was a fine piece, and she looked good on me arm. If I had known she had bats in her belfry, I’d have steered clear.”
“Did she love you?”
Wiley burst out laughing. “Her? No, and that’s a fact. I had the blunt to buy her what she wanted, didn’t I? That was all she cared about. Clothes and gin, and a bauble now and then.”
“What about the children? Did she love them?” Julianna kissed Donovan’s cheek and he swatted at her, pulling her hair.
“No.” Wiley was looking at Michael, holding his little hand and counting his fingers. He put the little boy’s hand up against his, palm to palm. Michael laughed and clapped them together several times. “But I figured as long as I kept an eye on them they would be all right with her. Shows what I know, don’t it?” He shook his head. “They’re better off here, like I said.”
Julianna marched over and handed Donovan to Wiley. She didn’t give him a chance to say no. He fumbled with the toddler for a second or two, but then settled him against his chest, Michael still in his lap. They all looked so right together. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s obvious you love them, Wiley. Don’t you think they’d rather be with you?” She looked around and waved her hand at the other children. “I can only do so much, and the same goes for Mrs. Eden, and whoever else we hire to help. Regardless of whether or not we move to a better location, or attract new patrons, we are not their parents. We can’t love them like you can.”
Wiley got a mulish look on his face and he stood, gently depositing both boys on the ground side by side. “That may be true, but you can keep them from growing up like me, that’s for sure. Do a better job educating them and the like.”
Julianna sat back down on the bench, her chin in her hand as she stared morosely at the abandoned boys. “Look at us, Wiley. We’ve both hurt the ones we love, for all the wrong reasons.” She sat up and looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I thought stealing from Alasdair would solve all my problems, but it’s only created new ones.” She sighed. “And in the end I had to admit I didn’t do it to help the children, I did it for my own selfish reasons, because I was a besotted, misguided fool. Please don’t make the same mistake I did,” she entreated him. “Don’t do something you’ll regret because you think it will solve all your problems. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re doing it for them. They need a father.” She looked at him and saw the indecision written on his face. “Make this right, Wiley,” she pleaded. “We both have to make things right.”
“You are,” he said, his face stubborn once again. “You’ve found someone to help, haven’t you? Moving to a better place, taking care of business. And that Sharp, he don’t care about the pearl, does he? Or he wouldn’t have asked you to marry him. Your problems are solved. No matter why you did it, it worked out just fine in the end.”
Julianna smiled weakly. “Of course,” she agreed, knowing what he wanted to hear, but sick at having to tell another lie. “But I still regret what I did.”
