Thief of Hearts Page 6

  “Who did it?” he asked.

  A murmur went up from the staff. “What’s missing Mr. Fisher?” the housekeeper asked, hands folded tightly in front of her. “It might be useful to know what we are accused of stealing.”

  Fisher sent her a poisonous look. “Pearls and a gold watch. We have ten minutes to get them back to the family or we are all dismissed.” He looked at each of them. “If the person responsible comes forward and gives me the goods, I will let them go. Without a reference, but I will not give them over to the authorities. It’s a hanging offence, so I’m offering your neck in exchange for the goods, and the opportunity to save everyone’s job.”

  Nothing.

  They all looked at one another, and Jeremy hated that they were all wondering who did it. Wondering, accusing, suspecting. He kept his eyes on the floor.

  “Come on!” shouted Fisher, so loud that Jeremy jumped. Someone started to cry.

  “Who cleaned the Framlings’ rooms?” he looked at the parlour maids.

  Jenny Green put her hand up and it shook.

  “If you have them, Jenny, give them to me. Give them to me now.”

  “I didn’t…I don’t…” Jenny put her face in her hands and wept.

  “For God’s sake. Whoever did it, at least have the courage to admit it and save your friends.” He looked around in desperation.

  Andrews put up his hand and Jeremy held his breath.

  “Was it you?”

  Andrews shook his head and swallowed. “Where was Naylor this afternoon?”

  The words echoed around the room, and every head turned to Jeremy. His face flamed as his body went cold with fear.

  “What do you mean, Andrews?”

  “Well, we were all out with the shooting party, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t around when I came back either.”

  “I had a break!” Jeremy protested holding out his hands, palm up as though begging them to believe him. It was the truth. He looked at Fisher. “It was my turn for an afternoon break. You know that. You let me go.”

  “Well, where did you go and what did you do?”

  Jeremy’s heart stopped in his chest. “I…I…” He tried to swallow but his throat was dry. What could he say?

  “Come on, lad. Where were you and what did you do. Answer me now.” Fisher came to stand before him.

  “I was…I was…” Desperately, he cast around for something to say. A convenient lie, but his head came up with nothing.

  The murmuring in the room grew louder and Jeremy could hear words like thief, molly, and worse. He was shaking from head to toe. “I had a rest. I had a rest.”

  Mickey, the boy he shared a room with came forward. “Where. You weren’t in our room when I came back.”

  He looked around at them. He couldn’t tell them he was with David. Couldn’t do that to him. He just hung his head and tried to ignore the shouts, the vicious fury amongst the people who moments ago had been his family and his friends.

  “Go to his room and bring his belongings. Search the room.” This was to Andrews. Fisher rubbed his mouth. “Of all the…I never thought…” He shook his head and then with a move so fast Jeremy didn’t know what had hit him, he backhanded him across the mouth, sending him flying across the room, smashing into the large cupboard in the corner, splitting his eyebrow. His ears rang, and blood poured from his head. His teeth cut into his cheek, and his lip was split from the blow. He tried to get up and spit out the blood from his mouth, but Fisher grabbed his cane and brought it down over his hip and his legs so hard Jeremy thought they would break.

  “Get out of that uniform,” he hissed. “You are a disgrace to the Fallows name. He brought the cane down again and Jeremy cried out and tried to stand but everything swam, and he fell over. He needed to get up. Needed to stop this. Fisher beat him again and again until Andrews came back. He could hear gasps from the staff, someone wept, and someone shouted.

  “This is everything, sir,” he said breathlessly and put Jeremy’s valise on the table.

  “What is in the case?” Fisher was shaking. Red faced.

  Andrews shrugged. “It’s locked.”

  “Bring it here.” Fisher took a hammer from by the fire, laid the case on the table, and smashed the small lock with a single blow.

  “No!” Jeremy shouted, reaching out, but Fisher slapped him again.

  In front of the entire staff, Andrews pulled out his silks, his satin and lace. His robe from David. His dress. He held them up so everyone could see and then laughed incredulously. He held up the dress like a trophy and a ripple of uneasy laughter started in the room.

  “What the hell are those?” Fisher bellowed at him. “Are they yours? Are they? What in God’s name are you?” His voice rose to a shriek, and the noise from the staff became louder, laughter, derision…

  Fisher pulled out several of Jeremy’s drawings of dresses, his designs. He held them up to the staff and laughed like a madman. “You draw pictures of dresses? Do you wear dresses?” He took the papers and tore them up, shrieking at him all the while. His face was red, and spittle flew from his mouth. The staff were laughing and shouting.

  The stolen pearls seemed forgotten in the excitement of the discovery of Jeremy’s secrets. He could bear it no more.

  He curled up on the floor. Curled in on himself, shame tearing through every part of him. He couldn’t face them, wouldn’t face them.

  When a deep voice penetrated the angry shouting, he knew it was David. David who had been in the room with him, had wanted him. David who got into the room without a key. David who had been wandering the corridors when the party were out shooting. David who walked the corridors at night.

  David.

  David.

  Oh David, what have you done?

  He opened his eyes and blinked. David had hold of Fisher’s arm. The one which was wielding the cane. “There now. That’s enough,” he said quietly. Fisher was shaking and certainly didn’t look like he had had enough.

  “You’ve punished him. Now get your staff back to the dining room to serve afternoon tea. Sir Granville wants things to get back to normal immediately. Hmm?” He tugged at his arm and led him from the room.

  “Back to your stations,” he said to the rest of the crowd in such an authoritative way that people immediately obeyed.

  Fisher looked back at Jeremy, his face filled with disgust. “Get out. Get out of this house, now.”

  Jeremy scrabbled about to gather his things and stuff them in his valise. Holding the lid closed he hugged it to his chest and staggered as his head swam. He looked at David. He waited, but when David didn’t say a word, he turned and limped out of the kitchen and out of the door. He had no idea where he would go, no money, no nothing.

  So, he walked. And walked and walked.

  Chapter 8

  It took everything David had to walk out of the room calmly and not watch Jeremy limp away. The shame in those violet eyes was too much to bear. Christ, what a mess. He left the melee behind and headed back to the main part of the house. He placed a hand on Sir Granville’s shoulder. “Fisher got the truth out of them. The culprit has gone.” He addressed Lady Framling at the same time.

  “Well, that’s not good enough,” said Lady Framling, her voice shrill. “The boy should hang. And where are my pearls?”

  “I’m sure he will be dealt with,” David looked at Sir Granville.

  “Were they very dear to you?” Mrs. Challoner said with sympathy, patting Lady Framling’s arm.

  “Not particularly, but that isn’t the point, is it. The point is, some filthy little thatch-gallows stole my belongings and is walking free. Well, I won’t have it. I want the magistrate. I want him punished. He should hang for this, or at the very least be deported. And, I want my property returned. Forthwith.”

  At that moment, David knew he couldn’t ever hate himself more. His soul was black, and his heart a stone. He bowed to Lady Framling and turned to Sir Granville.

  “If there is anything I c
an do?” It was difficult to maintain a civil tongue, but he did it. The miserable old witch wasn’t content with having the lad beaten and turned off with no references, no. She wanted him dead and for what? Some tatty old pearls and a watch.

  “My dear boy, you’ve done enough. Leave this to me. I will have the boy found and…” He shrugged and shook his head.

  “Dreadful business.” David nodded sympathetically. “If you are sure I can’t be of any further service, I must make my excuses.”

  Sir Granville smiled gratefully and patted his shoulder as he moved away and called for Fisher. Spineless old toad doesn’t have the gumption to do his dirty work himself.

  David headed for the hallway, moving sedately, and as soon as he was out of sight, he bounded up the staircase, ran to his chamber.

  “We are leaving. Now. Is everything ready?”

  Spencer jumped at his tone. “All done.”

  “Come on. I need to look for someone.”

  “Who?”

  “I will explain on the way. Been a bit of a set to, and one of the footmen has been accused of stealing.” He let the words hang.

  “Ah.” Spencer looked uncomfortable. “The pretty one you dallied with?”

  David swallowed and nodded. “The Framling pearls.” He hesitated a moment and debated trying to get the stolen property back to the rooms to make it look as though they had simply been overlooked. He was furious with himself. Absolutely furious. He was better than this. His lack of care and foresight had cost Jeremy everything. After this, he would probably never work in service again. His gut clenched.

  “What are you thinking?” Spencer’s tone was wary.

  “Putting them back.”

  “Doubt you’d get near. They’re packing to go as well. Anyway, the pearls and the watch are ready to go in the coach now. We need to get them all locked away.”

  “Give them to me.”

  Spencer sighed but went to the trunk and pulled out a soft bag. David tucked them into the hidden pocked in his coat.

  “I’m going to look.”

  David headed to the bed chambers, but the whole area was indeed filled with staff and he realised Spencer was right. His chances of getting the goods back were non-existent, particularly if he wanted to get hold of Jeremy before Fallows did.

  Cursing, he ran back to the dining room where they were all still congregated, whispering and chattering. He stood back by the slightly open door and listened. He could just make out the tableaux before him.

  “I’m afraid I can’t find him,” Fisher said, breathing heavily. “I’ve searched everywhere. He must have hidden.”

  “Wretched boy. Wretched, wretched boy,” Lady Framling moaned, and brought a handkerchief to her brow and mopped.

  The Earl of Standish stood with Sir Granville with a quizzical expression on his handsome face. “Did he admit to the theft? Didn’t you find the pearls and the watch so at least these good people can have their property returned?” he said in a conversational tone. Sir Granville looked at the butler, and David waited. It was a damned good question. The pearls were in his carriage. Exactly how had they arrived at the notion that Jeremy had stolen them?

  Fisher cleaned his throat. “No, but he couldn’t account for his actions or whereabouts this afternoon, sir.”

  David held his breath as Standish appeared even more puzzled. “He wouldn’t say?”

  “No, sir.”

  “A lover he’s protecting? Beg pardon,” he said, apologising to the ladies.

  Fisher looked uncomfortable as though the thought had never occurred to him.

  “I don’t know, but we found out the lad is…” He cleared his throat and glanced at the ladies who were present. “Not the kind of person Sir Granville would want on his staff.”

  “I see,” Standish said. “My dear Lady Framling, perhaps you should rest. You have had the most dreadful shock. I am sure Sir Granville will apprehend the boy and make sure he is suitably punished.”

  “Well…” She mopped her head again.

  “Would you like any help in looking again for the missing items? Just to be sure? I’m sure Sir Granville would be able to send the staff to help.”

  Lady Framling quivered with suppressed outrage at Standish’s temerity. “My maid knows all of my jewels. If she says it isn’t there, then it is not.” She looked at her husband. “I am sure you would say the same of your valet, my dear?”

  Lord Framling nodded vigorously. “Absolutely, m’dear.”

  A noise from the corridor made David step back and walk away. People might wonder why he stole from the rich. He glanced around at the group of people who owned half of London, owned thousands and thousands of pounds, properties and jewels, who would have a young lad killed for want of a set of pearls. He’d never doubted his moral ground for what he did. Today, today simply validated every act. His only regret was that his carelessness had put Jeremy squarely in the firing line. All he had to do now was find him.

  * * * *

  David returned to his chamber where Spencer sat waiting.

  “I need to find Naylor.”

  “Where has he gone?”

  David rubbed a hand over his mouth. “He’s run. I don’t know if I will be able to find him.” The thought that he might not gnawed at him.

  Spencer looked at him carefully. “The staff are saying some wild things about him. Women’s clothing?”

  David closed his eyes. “I just need to find him, but I need to do it alone.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Could you and Henson take the mail coach?”

  “Isn’t that going to look a bit odd?”

  David’s heart was hammering. It would look odd, but what the hell could he do? He didn’t want to go haring after Jeremy with Spencer and Henson in tow.

  Spencer sighed. “Let me see what I can do.”

  David nodded.

  Spencer hesitated. “Damned good thing he didn’t realise it was you who’d stolen it.”

  * * * *

  He drove his carriage swiftly, luggage carefully stowed, Spencer having made discreet arrangements for him and Henson to get back to London. He felt badly at abandoning them, but he needed to move quickly. If he found Jeremy, he needed to be alone.

  The wind was freezing, and the sky heavy with threatening snow. It was an appalling afternoon. Even with his caped great coat, hat, and gloves he was cold, so he could only imagine how Jeremy was faring. He set out, keeping an eye out for him as he went. It had taken so damned long to sort out the mess to a point where he could leave without occasioning comment, he would be lucky if he ever saw him again. He trotted the horses along the roadway, peering into the trees as he passed. There was only one real road, so he prayed Jeremy had not strayed too far from it. When he was confident none of the other guests were in earshot, he called out.

  “Jeremy!” he shouted, time after time, but there was no response. He wondered if he might have made it as far as the village, wondered if he would even think of trying to get to the village. He had nothing with him but that battered bag. David realised he probably had no money to speak of, certainly not enough to find somewhere to stay…His gut tightened. He didn’t even have a decent outdoors coat. If he ever laid eyes on Fisher or bloody Fallows again he would skin them. He shouted again, but there was nothing but the echo of his voice. Despite what Spencer thought, he couldn’t quite rid himself of the notion that Jeremy had worked out who the thief was by virtue of the fact that he, too, was absent from the shooting party, and not only that, he had picked the lock to the room Jeremy had been sitting in. It wouldn’t take much to make the leap. Had he realised? Had he been waiting for him to take the blame? Probably. His teeth clenched at the thought. What he didn’t understand was, if he had realised who the thief was, why hadn’t he told them? He didn’t owe David any loyalty, and a couple of tumbles between the sheets wouldn’t be enough to buy his silence.

  “Jeremy, will you show yourself. For God’s sake!” he yell
ed into the woodland, his voice taking on a hoarse, desperate quality as the road cut through the extensive forests bordering the Fallows estate. He rode slowly, turning this way and that. As he neared the edge of the carefully arranged woodland, he saw a movement. He didn’t take his eyes from the spot as he urged the horses on.

  And there he was.

  Leaning against a tree, clutching the bag with his silks in to his chest. Eyes wide. Uncertain. His hair looked matted, and there was blood smeared over his face, although it looked as though he had tried to rub it away. It didn’t cover the bruises that were forming. David’s heart stuttered.

  He pulled the horses to a stop, jumped down, and tethered the horses to a branch. Jeremy didn’t move or speak, he just watched him; violet eyes wide and serious.

  David patted the horse, delaying the moment when he would have to speak, and then turned and walked to stand in front of him. He reached out to take the small case, but Jeremy clutched it tighter.

  “Let me help.”

  Jeremy put the bag onto the ground very carefully and stepped out from the trees to stand in front of him.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Jeremy…”

  “It was you. How did you get into my secret room? Why were you wandering the house getting into rooms when the others were out?” His voice was getting louder, those cheeks flushed but this time with anger not passion. “You did it. You. Did. It.”

  David closed his eyes for a moment on a sight. “Jeremy…” The words were cut off as his lover planted him a facer. A pretty damned good one at that. His fist connected with David’s jaw, rocking his head right back making him stagger.

  “Hell’s teeth,” David muttered, rubbing the wounded spot. Jeremy was wincing and sticking his fingers under his armpit. He went over to him and held out his hand. “Have you hurt yourself?”

  “No, I have not. Now go away.” He turned away to inspect his hand. He shook it and moved his fingers.

  “Jeremy, I’m so sorry. I tried to put them back, tried to make it so…so you could go back…”