The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(86)

There was nothing—no sheets of velum, no sealing wax, no extra quills or ink. Just empty drawers.

However, most horrifying of all, Michael’s seal was gone.

“Are you missing something?”

Her lips curled at the taunt. Immediately, she knew who stole the items without looking up from the desk. She should have come home sooner after Hart told her that Mrs. Devin had caught Rupert in the study.

She lifted her gaze to his and narrowed her eyes. “Come to see if you left anything?” She’d not let a bully come into her home after the havoc he’d created for her and her sisters.

“Actually, no. I saw you roaming the fields and thought I’d make certain you don’t steal anything else that doesn’t belong to you.” Rupert sniffed then scrunched up his nose. “You smell as if you’ve slept with those wooly fur balls.”

“What did you do with my things? The ones you stole?” Remarkably, she kept her tone even and calm. Inside was another story. She was seething. Once she found out some answers to her questions, she’d throw the bastard out of her home and out of her life.

“Where they belong. I gave everything to the Marquess of McCalpin.” His nose rose another inch as if the air were more rarified in his area of the study. “His solicitor offered to pay me if I retrieved the items you were using to steal from my family and the marquess.”

“What solicitor?” She didn’t bother to hide the curtness in her tone. Michael hadn’t mentioned a peep about sending a solicitor to the estate. Something that important, he’d have discussed with her. Rupert was lying.

He waved a hand in the air as if tired of her questions. “Someone from Russell & Sons. I don’t recall their name. They paid me a finder’s fee, which I was happy to collect. Made up for the aggravation of smelling sheep manure.” He whipped out a handkerchief and held it to his nose. “What you’ve done to this family is disgraceful!”

She ignored his theatrics. “Tell me his name, Rupert.”

“Jameson.” His unchecked vehemence caused a downpour of spittle showers. Luckily, their distance apart kept her from a soaking. “Mr. Jameson. He’s the one who informed me you stole from the family’s trusts.”

Even she had her limits. “Leave, Rupert. This is still my home, and I say who’s welcome and who’s not. You’re on the not list.”

“It’ll soon be my home. Mr. Jameson said they’re going to have you arrested for impersonating a noble and stealing charges. Once you’re on your way to Australia or Timbuktu, I’m seeking Julia’s hand.” He turned to leave.

“Wait.” She ran forward to stop him.

He turned and lifted a haughty brow. “I don’t answer to you as you’re no longer part of this family. I will be the man in charge once I get the marquess’s permission to marry Julia.”

She schooled her features and clasped her hands in front of her. “How did you know to go to Chelmsford?”

With a smirk, he regarded her as if she were a pile of manure. “Mr. Jameson. He told me he had good information that your parents were married there years after your birth. He needed me as a member of the family to come forward. And I was only too happy to help,” he sneered.

This morning on their way back to London, she’d told Michael what the Chelmsford vicar had shared about Rupert and a Marquess of McCalpin representative visiting and examining the marriage registry. Michael had been adamant that he hadn’t sent anyone to the church.

“Of course, when I discovered the truth, I couldn’t let your deception continue.” With a final smug smile, he turned and left her alone.

Her heart started to pound and a trickle of sweat slowly slid down her back. Someone was out to destroy her.

*

A lighthearted smile pulled at McCalpin’s lips as he walked up the steps of Langham Hall. He’d chosen well. March would be an excellent partner as they traversed through all of life’s joys and perils. Miraculously, confiding his secret, that black mark he carried with him every hour, lightened his burden. It only reaffirmed his decision.

Last night when she’d come to him, she’d been frantic for comfort. Holding her in his arms and making love to her had been perfect. He’d never let her suffer the taunts or the ridicule that society loved to bestow on people, women in particular, who found themselves lambs at the slaughter.

He’d protected himself for so long, it was second nature to protect her.

William approached with a deliberate step and a stern countenance. His brother could be a menacing sight when riled. “McCalpin, I need you to come to the study. There are some disturbing things that demand your attention at once.”

McCalpin followed William into their father’s study and closed the door. At the burl maple table in the center of the room sat their sister, Emma, with her husband, Somerton, who handled McCalpin’s personal investments.

Unease pushed aside all of his good humor when he saw the look of fury on his sister’s face. Her straight shoulders and the haughty tilt of her head foretold something truly serious was afoot. The fact that his solicitor Russell and the bookkeeper, Jameson, were present didn’t help matters.

He sat at the head of the table, and William took the seat to the right of him. The tension in the room was palatable. Somerton clenched a document in his fist.