The Indebted Earl by Erica Vetsch (love letters to the dead TXT) 📕

In halting bits, Sophie told him of the girls’ arrival and their relationship to the former Earl of Rothwell.

Marcus tilted his head. “Odd that the old fellow would take on three young females. There’s more here, I suspect, than meets the eye. Tell me about the town and what you’ve observed. Who has more than they should, or who has acted suspiciously? Start at the beginning, and tell me everything that happened from the moment you arrived at Gateshead.”

As she spoke, she fit pieces together in her mind, realizing that some of the things she had thought odd but that had been conveniently explained away at the time, actually pointed to the truth.

“The seamstress has a workshop full of inventory. And lace that could only come from France. She said she brought most of it from her shop in London.”

“You said you visited the boathouse and shore, and part of the cliff gave way and hit Charles on the head?” Marcus asked.

“Yes. The cliff is very unstable.”

“Are you certain it was an accident?” Marcus leaned back against the squabs and crossed his arms.

“Surely no one would do such a thing on purpose. He could have been killed.” Sophie blinked.

“The arrival of a new earl must have put the smugglers into a panic. Grayson has to be involved somehow, and Charles was a danger to their operation. Someone tried to stop him with a rock to the head, though they were unsuccessful. But then word got out that the new earl would be leaving soon to return to the navy. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. It will be business as usual once he’s gone.”

“But he hasn’t received any orders yet.”

“And he stumbled upon the smuggling operation. Now he definitely has to go. Therefore the plot to frame him for the crime.”

“Would someone like Halbert Grayson be capable of such an intricate plot? I wouldn’t have thought he had the intelligence or influence in the town.”

Marcus nodded. “No one’s off my list of suspects at this point. We’re nearly there. I don’t know that you’ll be allowed in to see Charles just yet, but I can take a message from you if you’d like.”

“Will they let you in?”

He snorted. “I’m the Duke of Haverly. I’ll get in.”

The coachman had to stop and ask directions to the jail, and when he pulled up before the stone building, a shiver went through Sophie. A guard with a musket stood before the door.

“Wait in the coach.”

“Tell him …” She paused, heat swirling into her cheeks as she realized what she’d almost blurted out. With an effort, she composed herself. “Tell him we’re doing everything we can, that I know he’s innocent of these charges, and that he’ll be free soon.”

Marcus leaned across the carriage and squeezed her hand.

When she was alone, she let the tears fall.

She had almost asked her brother to tell her husband that she loved him.

“This is a sorry turn of events, Wyvern. Or should I call you Rothwell? It’s quite irresponsible of you to marry my sister out of hand and then land yourself in jail a fortnight later.”

Charles looked through the bars at his brother-in-law, appreciating the wry humor. The outer door remained open to let in some light and to allow the guard to keep an eye on them.

“You should call me Charles, and this isn’t exactly the way I wanted to be welcomed into the family.”

When he held his hand out through the bars, the guard barked from his post by the door, “Stay back!”

“How is Sophie?” Charles asked, withdrawing.

“She’s outside in my carriage, but they won’t allow her in. I had to threaten to go to the magistrate to be let in myself. Now, before they think better of giving me access, there are a few things you need to know. First, a lawyer is on his way from London. I’ve sent a man to the firm of Coles, Franks, and Moody, and they’ll find a barrister and bring him along. This same man will stop by the Admiralty and inform Barrington.”

A bit of the tightness in Charles’s chest eased. “These charges are false. I’ve never stolen or smuggled a thing in my life.”

Except a miniature of my wife. The thought came unbidden. He still had the painting. Why hadn’t he returned that to her and admitted what he’d done? It seemed so silly now that he’d been embarrassed into silence.

Marcus was speaking, and Charles tried to concentrate. “I’m aware the accusations are false, and I’ve got men investigating. We’ll get the charges dropped.”

“And then I’m going after the real culprits.”

“We’re making a list of possible conspirators. I’m afraid this might take some time. If my suspicions are correct, the scope is broad, and it might even extend to buying off local authorities. That warrant was procured with remarkable speed. I’d say the trap was laid some time ago and only sprung last night when you confronted Grayson. There are too many moving pieces for this to be spontaneous. For now, don’t talk to anyone but me and your lawyer. You never know who might be listening.”

Someone had bribed the magistrate? If that was true, what chance did Charles have? Surely he wouldn’t be hung by a crooked judge bought off by his enemies?

Charles halted his thinking. Marcus had quite a bit of information for having arrived just this morning. How had he come by his intelligence?

“I met your wards briefly. The little one was wearing your hat.” Marcus put the side of his finger against the seam of his lips, but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone.

“Betsy.” Charles nodded. “She loves that hat, my gloves, my pocket watch. I’ve even found her wearing my uniform jacket, epaulettes and all. She tries to march around like she’s striding a quarterdeck, and any naval jargon that floats her way is captured and fired back at regular intervals.”

“You’ve made quite an impression on her in a short time. And the other two?”

He thought for