Cachet (26 page)

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Authors: Shannah Biondine

BOOK: Cachet
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"I know how you feel about the girls leaving, Sheila."

She shrugged. It happened. More often than most churchgoers believed. Few girls truly lived life on their backs for extended periods of time. Usually they resorted to that life when circumstances drove them to it, only to leave it once more when the tide of fortune turned. They met a good man or got in touch with distant relations. Heard of jobs working as hotel maids or cooks in lumber camps.

Sheila genuinely liked Lorella and the girl was popular with the clientele, but she had a right to make her own choices. Sheila wouldn't stand in her way.

"I'll be good to her," Richelle rushed on.

"I know that," Sheila sighed.

"I can offer her a paying job, helping me keep house. Morgan said we'd leave here soon for Philadelphia. As soon as he gets back, I'm going to tell him the three of us are leaving tomorrow."

They just reached the train station when a messenger intercepted them.

Sheila's friend at the War Department had news about Jonas. He was in the Union Army and gave his commanding officer a formal statement of the events in Carson City. The messenger gave Richelle the deposition, along with a safe deposit box key. Jonas had left her money in a Philadelphia bank on Chestnut Street.

Morgan and the women checked into a hotel near Hardwick House. The following day Richelle tucked her hair under the blonde wig Sheila had given her and took Lorella to the bank. The safe deposit box contained the bulk of the Oregon farm money. The women spent the rest of the afternoon purchasing a chaste wardrobe for the former prostitute.

Meanwhile, Morgan hid down the street from the ironworks to observe activities there. For three days he watched Cameron Nash to learn his routine. Then he waited until Elaine and Cameron had left the Hardwick mansion for the evening and used Richelle's key to slip inside. A review of the records in the desk told Morgan what he needed to know. He dispatched a wire to Richardson and returned to the Philadelphia hotel.

Richelle was stunned by what he'd discovered. "Cameron's not only selling arms to the South, but cheating the Union while he does it? And Elaine's involved, too?" Morgan nodded. "So Elaine will be arrested, as well."

"That's a distinct possibility."

"No, Morgan, I can't agree to that. I can't be responsible for putting my stepmother behind bars."

"I wouldn't give a tinker's damn about her if I were you," he replied harshly. "Sara should be enough salve for your conscience."

Richelle had been pacing back and forth. She stopped and stared at him. "What's Sara got to do with any of this?"

Morgan met her questioning gaze with a powerful sense of regret. Richelle had to understand what she was up against, make informed choices. Yet he knew he was about to hurt her. "From what you've told me, Cletus usually came home to you, even when he was dead drunk. He knew you were about to give birth. Doesn't it strike you as odd that he'd choose that precise time to disappear for several days?"

Richelle merely shrugged. "He lost track of time or was sleeping it out of his bloodstream somewhere."

"Richelle,
think
. Women and their babes both may die in childbirth. You told me there was no medical help available. Cletus and Cameron would have known that."

"Men make mistakes when they're drunk, like when you lost your signet. Cletus wasn't—! You want me to believe they wanted me dead! Sara, too? Even the Nash brothers wouldn't be so vicious."

"I want you to see that it's possible. Quite plausible. Both had a vested interest in making certain Jeremiah Hardwick had no blood heirs to his fortune. If you and Sara had perished, Elaine would have everything now. Elaine and her lover."

"No, Morgan. No!" But even as she outwardly denied it, Richelle admitted it was probably true. Hadn't Cameron killed a man with his 'creative bookkeeping'? Murdered a stranger and tried to hang her for it? She turned away from Morgan and silently wept.

The next morning she awakened early. She was dressed and ready to talk when Morgan first opened his eyes. "I've asked myself a dozen times what I ever did to deserve the Nash curse. Cameron's taken everything that mattered from me. And Elaine helped him."

"I'm afraid so."

"They took things I can never replace: years of my life, my child, maybe even my father. Cameron and his damned poisons could have killed Papa."

"Even if that's true, I doubt we could prove it."

"I don't care. I'm going to stop them, Morgan. They're not taking my father's house. Cameron's not going to stay under that roof. I won't let him win."

Morgan nodded, his face a hard mask of resolve as he began lathering his face to shave. "I've already got things in motion. I'll handle him."

 

Chapter 22

 

"Oh, it's you again." There was no welcome in Elaine Hardwick's voice as she opened the Hardwick House front door to find Morgan on the porch. Richelle stepped from behind him. Elaine snorted, "I see you located my stepdaughter. Resourceful fellow, I'll give you that."

Morgan swung the door all the way open and escorted Richelle inside. He glanced around to be certain there was no sign of Cameron. He'd watched the house and knew this was the cook's day off. Elaine was home alone.

"We've come to discuss my father's estate," Richelle announced. "I believe you've already met my husband."

Elaine made no move to sit in the drawing room. She glanced from Richelle to the man beside her. "He's not your husband. He'd only just met you. What are you trying to pull, Richelle?"

Morgan answered for her. "We're married. Twice, actually. By a Justice of the Peace in Washington as well as the ship's captain en route to New York. Richelle was my wife before she ever returned here. I had business that detained me in New York, so I sent her ahead alone. Had I any notion you and that foul heathen would treat her as you did, I'd never have let her come." He pinned Elaine with an icy glare. "You lied about having seen her. That wasn't kind, Widow Hardwick, nor was it particularly bright. You recognized my ring. You couldn't have unless you'd seen its copy on Richelle's finger."

"So you're her husband. So what? Cameron and I can run down to the courthouse, too, you know."

"More likely the jailhouse," Richelle sniggered.

"I'm managing Richelle's business now," Morgan informed the older woman. "I've investigated Cameron Nash and the operations at the ironworks. Some highly unorthodox business practices take place under his management. Unethical and illegal practices, interestingly enough—with documentation that indicates you're also involved."

Elaine shook her head. "Cameron worked for my late husband. He manages the factory. I have nothing to do with that."

"Then why did I find bank drafts and receipts bearing your signature? Let's not toy with one another, widow. I know about the sales to the Confederate Army. I've also learned Cameron's got heavy gambling debts. Several of those are guaranteed by a life insurance policy on you."

Elaine scoffed, "There's no life insurance."

"I assure you, there is. Distasteful concept, isn't it?" Morgan sneered. "Finding his only interest in you is financial. But he's what, sixteen years your junior? Young enough to be your son. He can easily find another lover. Several, in fact."

"Stop this. I don't have to listen to your lies."

"Remember when you had Jeremiah believing you attended ladies club meetings? You and Cameron met in a hotel across town during those afternoons. Did you realize Cameron was also seeing a maid employed there? She got pregnant and was forced to resign. She and Cameron's bastard are living with relatives in Delaware now."

"Fascinating," Elaine snapped. "Doesn't Richelle see your interest in her is just the same? All about money."

Richelle narrowed her eyes at the older woman. "Morgan didn't know who I was before coming to this house. He married me believing I was a poor frontier widow."

Elaine picked at a fold of her black skirt. "You said this was about Jeremiah's estate."

Morgan dug in his pocket and removed a bulky envelope. "Here's two thousand dollars, enough to buy you a fresh start. We're offering you a chance to get out unscathed. Against the whole of Jeremiah's estate."

"If you can prove I'm involved in something illicit, why help me?"

"Richelle doesn't want to see you go to jail. You can go straight to the devil for all I care." He opened the envelope and withdrew a folded document. "This is a release of your share of Jeremiah's estate. Sign it and pack your things, or your next home will feature bars on the doors. I wouldn't take too long thinking it over. Government agents are due with a search warrant this very day. Sign this and I'll destroy the documents implicating you before they arrive."

"I can take your word on that, of course."

He cocked his head at the older woman. "What choice have you?"

Elaine got a pen from the study and scrawled her signature on the form. Then she hurried upstairs. Richelle followed to watch her pack. Elaine flung open her wardrobe, gathering day dresses along with satin and taffeta evening gowns. She gave her stepdaughter a cold glare and went about the task of emptying her bureau drawers into a small valise. "I always planned to pack like this one day. Rehearsed my steps and the speech I'd give Cameron after I sold the place. No need for that speech now."

She tossed a small jewelry box at Richelle. "You can have this. Your mother was the one fond of useless trinkets."

"My mother was the one fond of my father."

"You've got your nerve, talking to me like that and having that Englishman toss me out like an old shoe! When I first came to this house, you were wearing yesterday's rags and digging in the flowerbeds. Your mother and her crackpot relations had your mind addled like theirs. You spent summers in a whorehouse!"

"I spent the last week there, too."

"Your father didn't have a clue as to the proper upbringing for a young girl. You'd be whoring there right now instead of married to that arrogant son-of-a-bitch downstairs if I hadn't made something of you."

Richelle took a step forward, menace in her tone. "Don't you call Morgan names, Elaine. He's the only thing standing between you and a long stint in federal prison. One word from me and he'll give those government agents the evidence against you."

Elaine slammed the lid of her trunk. "When I think of the years I gave you."

"Let's both think about them," Richelle shot back. "You keep talking about everything you gave me and my father, but all you did was keep me away while you bided your time. You pushed me off on Cletus and did whatever Cameron told you while you waited for my father to die." Richelle couldn't hide the total disgust in her voice and couldn't stop herself from taking at least some measure of revenge.

"Cameron mentioned our old times. The baby I miscarried was his. If that child had lived, Cameron probably would have forced me to marry him after Cletus died. Then he would have been both husband and father to Jeremiah's kin—with absolutely no use for you."

Elaine's jaw went slack before she recovered what remained of her false dignity. "I curse the day I ever met you and your father."

"Not half as much as I do."

* * *

As agreed, Richelle left the house after Elaine and returned to the hotel. Morgan poured himself a tall sherry and set to work. By the time Richardson and his men arrived, Morgan was lounging in the drawing room beside a low fire. "It's springtime," one of the agents remarked. "Little warm for a fire."

"You're right, of course, but I'm an Englishman. We like our hearth warming a house, even in summer. Old habits, as they say. You'll be pleased at what I've gathered for you. Have a look." Richardson pored over the contracts and invoices.

"You're right, Tremayne. This is bad. You're sure you can get him to tell you about this business?"

"I'm sure."

Richardson motioned to his agents. The documents were all returned to the study as the men took up hiding places in the dining room and kitchen. They would be able to overhear what was said in the drawing room without being seen. Morgan appeared to be alone when the front door opened and Cameron walked into the foyer and shouted for Elaine.

"She's gone out, Nash."

"She never goes anywhere without telling me. And what the hell are you doing here? We told you your little ladybird flew the coop."

"Widow Hardwick says you handle financial matters. I told her I'd wait here until you got home. We need to confer, my good fellow. Hope you don't mind that I poured myself a drink. Join me?"

Cameron nodded and splashed some liquor into a glass, his eyes wary. "I don't know what financial things you mean or why I'd talk to you about 'em."

Morgan smiled and became the Bargainer. "I've got a confession to make, Nash. I located Richelle. She knows I'm here. I wasn't entirely honest when I came by the house the other day. I did much more than meet Richelle aboard the vessel from London. I married her on it."

"So, what's that got to do with me?"

"We're men of experience and commerce, you and I. Men with a distinctive talent and certain tastes in common."

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