Gone With the Rogue Page 10

  “Did you try to find out who the shipment rightfully belonged to?”

  “No. I could have but I didn’t look for the manifest. Once I made the decision to take the grain, it really didn’t matter at that point who it once belonged to. I considered it salvage.”

  “I suppose your actions saved a lot of lives.”

  “For a time, anyway. There will always be people among us who are in desperate need, Lady Kitson.” He looked down at his empty plate before his eyes met hers in earnest. “We can’t help them all. Sometimes we can’t help any of them—if they won’t let us.”

  Julia knew he was talking about her. There was no doubt he was intuitive. He knew she was in some kind of trouble and not willing to share it with him. It was clear he didn’t understand her reluctance and he didn’t like it. Her fear was that the risk was so great.

  “How is Chatwyn managing with his new tutor?” he asked when he realized she wasn’t going to respond to his attempt to wrangle answers from her.

  “Not well,” she answered truthfully, pleased he’d asked about her son. Julia lowered her head and sighed. “The first day was so horrible I can’t bear to think about it and the second no better. Chatwyn cried hysterically most of the day and no amount of reprimands from Mr. Pratt or soothing from me helped him. I tried to explain to Mr. Pratt he’s simply too young and not ready for traditional schooling.”

  Mr. Stockton’s eyes narrowed into a frown. “He didn’t try to discipline Chatwyn, did he? He didn’t put his hands on him?”

  “No. I would never have allowed that. He threatened to tie him to the chair if he got up again so I moved to the small chair and held Chatwyn. You’ve met my son. He is a rambunctious little boy. It’s so difficult to keep him still. He’s not patient and neither is Mr. Pratt.”

  “You didn’t leave the man alone with him today, did you?”

  “Of course not. I met Mr. Pratt at the door this morning and told him Chatwyn was ill. There will be no instructions on Sunday but he said he’d return on Monday to resume lessons whether or not Chatwyn was better. I’ve written to the duke to ask him to dismiss the man. I explained how stern, overbearing, and completely unsuitable he is for such a young child.”

  “Do you think the duke will agree?”

  “I have little hope he will ever listen to me. He considers himself Chatwyn’s guardian and that he knows what’s best for him. For the most part I stay quiet because I’ve been threatened with never seeing Chatwyn again if I don’t.”

  Mr. Stockton took in every word she said and nodded.

  “The only thing the duke ever agreed to that I wanted to do was the girls’ school. I know he only allowed me use of my inheritance for that because it made him look benevolent to do so. With Brina and Adeline already invested, he knew he’d look stingy withholding money that is rightfully mine for such a worthy cause. Appearance is most important to him. He glories in how everyone praises him for the good man he is.” After she was finished, Julia realized she hadn’t kept her disdain for the duke out of her tone.

  Mr. Stockton seemed to study on that for a moment, and then asked, “Have you resided in the Duke of Sprogsville’s home since your husband’s passing?”

  Julia stilled as she remembered the night she told the duke she wanted to move into a home of her own with her son. Chatwyn was only a few months old. She didn’t think it would be a problem. The duke had two older sons and a daughter with seven children between them. They all had their own houses. But it wasn’t to be so for her. She was his son’s widow. The duke had told her she was free to leave his household, and she could do it with his blessing, but she wouldn’t be taking Chatwyn with her. He reminded her he knew every judge in Chancery Court. She couldn’t fight him. So she had stayed.

  Most widows lived alone, where they were free to go and come as they wished, to entertain whomever they wished at whatever time they wished. She wasn’t allowed to be like most widows. She had to be the kind the duke wanted or face the consequences of his threats.

  “Yes. I’ve lived in his house since the day I married his son. I know it’s difficult to understand for someone who is free to make his own choices in life. Ladies don’t have that luxury. You know the rules, Mr. Stockton. Once I married, everything I owned became my husband’s. And once he died, his father was given control of it and of me and guardianship of my son. Society deems women too delicate to manage their own affairs. When you are not allowed access to your own money, it leaves you few choices and even fewer freedoms.”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand the complexity of your life. Something tells me you’d like to be free of the duke.”

  “Desperately,” she whispered as she looked from Mr. Stockton’s strongly built chest and arms to his powerful-looking legs. She felt a leap in her breath. Brina was right. She needed help and she had to trust someone. He could move the duke’s desk for her. The documents she needed could be hidden in the floor under it and she didn’t need to leave one stone unturned. Mr. Stockton could reach the taller shelves with ease and help her with the larger books, so why was she hesitating?

  Julia’s throat tightened at the real possibility of her thoughts. How could she get him in the house without anyone knowing? She had no idea but now that the idea of help from him was born, nothing kept the confession from tumbling from her lips. “I’m reluctant to admit it for several reasons, but I do need your help again, Mr. Stockton.”

  Focusing his gaze intently on hers, he leaned in toward her and asked, “What do you want to hide?”

  “Not hide, find,” she answered determinedly. She laid her plate on the table and cautiously looked around them again. “I need you to help me find something in the duke’s house.”

  His eyes stayed tightly focused on her. “What kind of trouble are you in, Lady Kitson?”

  Probably more right now than she actually realized if Mr. Stockton agreed to help her steal the duke’s documents, but she couldn’t back out now. She needed someone who would be as fearless as she had to be in order to outwit the duke and free herself from his unrelenting control. She believed Mr. Stockton was that man.

  “It would take too long to explain everything right now. I’ll meet you at the back door at half past midnight and let you inside.”

  “Wait.” He laid his plate on the table beside hers. A server approached with a tray of champagne but Mr. Stockton waved him away. “Let’s take this a little slower so I understand. You want me to slip into the duke’s house tonight and help you find and take something that belongs to him?”

  Julia looked around again before saying, “I know it’s outrageous, not to mention dangerous, but yes. I need you to move the duke’s desk in his book room so I can see if he has a compartment hidden beneath it. I’ve tried. It’s simply too heavy for me to manage, and for obvious reasons I can’t ask his footman.”

  Amusement slowly settled in his features. “So you think because I took grain from a foundering ship, I’ll help you steal something from the duke?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitating. “Documents. Very important ones about the company you and I discussed—where the explosion took place. I have reason to believe the duke secretly owned that company.”

  He studied her so closely, she feared he was going to deny her.

  “Why would he need to own anything in secret?”

  “Because he’s not the honorable man everyone thinks he is, and I’m going to prove he isn’t. I know it’s a lot to ask, Mr. Stockton. Believe me, it’s more dangerous for me than it is for you. I would lose my son if you were discovered in his house, but I am running out of options. If I could trust anyone else not to alert the duke as to what I’m doing, I would ask them. But there’s no one. Will you do it?”

  His gaze swept down her face and then back up to her eyes. “Of course. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to help you.”

  Julia sucked in a deep audible breath as her legs trembled with relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.

/>   “Lady Kitson, Mr. Stockton,” Lady Hallbury said as she sidled up between them and looked down at their plates. “Do tell me how were the pastries?”

  Julia looked down at their plates, too. They were both empty. She quickly glanced over at the silver tray. To her horror, it was empty, too! They had stood there talking and had managed to eat every pastry on the table.

  “My compliments, Lady Hallbury,” Mr. Stockton said with a nod. “In all my travels, I’ve never had more delicious sweets.”

  Lady Hallbury beamed with a satisfied smile. “Don’t stop now. Move on to another table and have more. I’m quite delighted. I didn’t expect anyone to eat a morsel. They usually don’t. I do love surprises.”

  Chapter 9

  A pale shaft of moonlight shone from the one window near the back door. Julia trembled inside as she held her black velvet robe tightly under her chin. It wasn’t cold, but she felt chilled to the bone. If Mrs. Desford or Mr. Leeds should see Mr. Stockton in the house, there would be no hope they’d stay quiet. She must have wondered a thousand times why she’d asked the rogue to help her. Truly it was madness to sneak him into the duke’s home. There was no answer other than that she trusted him, and she was in dire need.

  He’d saved her once. Maybe he could again. Without the deed to the company, she had no hope of getting out from under the duke’s strong hand.

  She’d tried to think of every possibility that might come up. She had excuses ready if she were found downstairs. It would be easy to say she was looking for yet another book to read. She’d made sure she was never without a book in her pocket or her hand so Mrs. Desford wouldn’t have reason to question the amount of reading she was doing should she find her in the book room in the middle of the night. When Julia slipped belowstairs earlier, she’d stopped by the book room and left a single candle burning on a small table.

  There was no soft knock, as she’d expected, but she heard the door creak. Julia held her breath. Slowly it pushed open. Mr. Stockton stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him. She stifled an audible sigh as her heart pumped wildly with hope and fear of what could happen. “You came,” she whispered. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “I would never disappoint you, my lady.”

  His words comforted her and she offered him a grateful smile. “Follow me.”

  Julia led him down the darkened corridor toward the book room. A fine woolen carpet kept their footsteps silent. Once inside, she cautiously closed the door and turned the key with shaking hands before facing him. With only the one candle, it was dark but she could see enough of him to know she wanted to look at him at her leisure and drink in the sight of him. That was a foolish notion for now. She couldn’t waste a moment on such romantic matters. The less time he spent in the house, the better.

  “Perhaps now is the time to tell me why you are interested in finding these documents you search for?”

  “I believe they will give me freedom from the duke and force him to do what is right for the families who had loved ones killed or injured in that explosion. I need to find the deeds or something to show that the property or company was transferred into the duke’s name.”

  “Freedom is something I can understand. What do you want to do first?”

  “I’ve checked everywhere you suggested I look a few days ago—except under the desk and the top shelves of books.” She looked over at the two walls of books. “You should be able to reach those with ease and help me see if anything is behind them.”

  He nodded. “You’ve looked carefully for a hidden space under the rest of the floor?”

  “Yes. Even under the chairs and side tables. There are no loose boards or nails that seem to be loose or raised.”

  “What about the walls?”

  “Every inch,” she answered desperately. “Behind the paintings, the sconces, the draperies, and even that tapestry.”

  Mr. Stockton took no time surveying the layout of the room. The desk was at the back of the library in front of a wall of books. He shrugged out of his coat and laid it on a nearby chair. With light steps, he then strode confidently over to the desk and moved the unlit lamp, ink jar, and quill to the middle of the desk.

  “I’ll move it forward one side at the time and then we’ll toss the rug back and see if we can find anything under it.”

  “All right.” She walked over to stand beside him, and when he put his hands on the edge of the desk, she placed her hands beside his.

  He looked down at her and smiled. “I can manage this without you, Lady Kitson.”

  The warmth that shone in his eyes was like a soothing balm to her troubled soul. “I know, but I want to help.”

  As if sensing how important it was that she be involved, he said, “One, two, three.”

  They lifted the end of the massive desk and moved it forward three steps before setting it back down. Going over to the other side, they did the same.

  Mr. Stockton then bent down on his hands and knees and felt around the fine wool. “The indentations the wood made in the rug are here.” He motioned to a spot in front of the desk. “If we push it back to here, we should be able to see all the floor that’s been covered. Bring the candle over while I move the rug.”

  Julia did as he asked and then knelt down beside him. Her stomach quivered and her fingers trembled a little. “Do you want me to hold the candle while you search the floor?”

  His face was mere inches from hers. They were as close as they’d been when they were in the tree. “I trust you to do it,” she whispered.

  Mr. Stockton went to work and Julia watched. He was so close she heard his breaths, caught the scent of his shaving soap and the fresh washed smell of his hair. Through the linen of his shirt she saw the firm muscles in his back working as he bent over the floor. Holding the light close to him, Julia watched his strong, sure hands skim the seams and joints of the wood. Suddenly she was imagining the palm of his hand gliding over the plane of her hip, up to her waist, and gently caressing her breasts.

  “Damnation,” he whispered after a few moments. “I think I’ve found something.”

  For a moment Julia felt paralyzed, but then her breath leapt in her chest. “What?”

  He moved farther into the alcove of the desk where the chair would sit when pushed tight again the desk.

  Julia crawled to get closer to him, bumping his shoulder with hers, letting her thigh rest against his. “Let me see.”

  “Give me the candle,” he said.

  She gave him the round brass holder with a shaking hand.

  He took the light in one hand and with the other showed her where to touch. “Start here and follow my hand up to this point and back to here. Do you feel that?”

  “The seam of the wood is raised,” she said, beginning to believe they might have found something. “How do we get the boards out so we can see if anything is inside?

  He handed the candle back to her. Reaching behind him, he pulled his knife from his boot. He started knocking the blade into the seam with the hilt of his hand. The noise reverberated around the room. Julia felt as if a gong was sounding throughout the house. Her heart jumped to her throat.

  “Wait. It’s so loud I’m afraid it will awaken the housekeeper or Mr. Leeds. I don’t know if they are sound sleepers.”

  Garrett stopped and laid the knife down between them. He reached over and cupped her cheek with his warm hands. His touch was soothing. She wanted to melt against him and let him take this fear and burden from her.

  “I’ll make as little noise as possible. It’s your choice, but I can’t break this open silently. There must be a little sound if you want to know what’s hidden beneath the boards.”

  Julia didn’t know what to do. It was torture to be so close to possibly finding the evidence she needed, but the noise to get it was terrifying. What good would it do her to find the papers if the housekeeper found her? Mr. Stockton stayed calm. His hand was steady, comforting against her skin. He didn’t rush her to make a d
ecision. It was as if he knew she had to be sure what they were doing was worth the risk they were taking. He was right. There was no way to remove a board silently.

  She really had no choice. “All right,” she said. “Do what you must. I’ll leave the candle here with you and go to the door to listen for footsteps from above.”

  “It’s not as loud as you think it is.” He gave her a gentle, brief kiss on her lips and then another just as short on the side of her mouth. The contact was startling but calming. Her breaths slowed.

  “Everything will be fine. I’ll be as quiet as possible.” He kissed her forehead. “Now go listen from the door.”

  His hand moved to the back of her neck and gently squeezed before he let her go. With her heart pounding in her ears, Julia rose and hurried over to take up her post. She unlocked the door and eased it open just enough to get her head through the space. She focused her gaze down the corridor that led to the back stairs which ended up on the servants’ floor. She inspected each shadow on all the walls so she would know if a new one appeared. Every creak and crack of wood she heard behind her made her wince in fear that someone would hear and come to investigate.

  Seconds turned to minutes, but she dared not leave to see what Mr. Stockton was doing. Her eyes were dry from lack of blinking. Her chest ached from holding herself so rigidly, and her stomach felt as if it had been twisted into knots. Finally the noise stopped. There was complete silence just before she heard, “Julia, come here.”

  Desperate to believe his call to her was for good news, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before slowly leaning back into the room, closing the door and securing the lock. There, in the darkened room, she could see his form clearly. He stood behind the desk, looking magnificent, powerful, and commanding, and holding a leather packet in his hand. Julia couldn’t move. Was it over? Had her search come to an end? All of a sudden her heart lurched and she rushed over to him.