When the Rogue Returns (33 page)

“Unfortunately, Gerhart is too much a coward to do his own stealing,” Isa said bitterly. “Even in Amsterdam, he sent my sister to the shop rather than going himself. He prefers to throw the blame for crimes on other people.”

“Exactly,” Victor said, but he sounded distracted as he wandered over to the fireplace.

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he didn’t even take
part in opening the strongbox beyond making the false keys,” Isa went on. “He always—”

“That’s it!” Victor whirled to face Rupert. “Where does your mother keep the diamonds?”

“In . . . in her jewelry case. Why?”

“Could it be breached easily? Broken into?”

Rupert scowled. “You don’t have to break into it. I’m
giving
you the jewelry.”

“Just answer the question, damn it!” Victor growled.

The poor lad blinked. “It has a key, but Mother hides that in her bureau. I suppose the case could be smashed open if someone really wanted to steal anything, but here in the country, with all the servants about—”

“Someone would almost definitely be caught,” Victor said gleefully. “Or at least seen fleeing with the gems.”

Mr. Bonnaud’s eyes lit up. “So if Gerhart can be seen running off with them by someone other than you two—or us—then when we capture him on the road, we won’t have to mention any kidnapping. We’ll merely be part of a group of men apprehending him for the theft he just committed.”

“Desperate men do desperate things, after all,” Mr. Manton said, a slow smile curving up his lips. “Everything that has happened can be recast to fit our tale. Gerhart assaulted Mrs. Cale in the woods when she wouldn’t give him money. He grew desperate after that, and ran into the manor to steal the diamonds.”

Victor got excited. “We can point out that his wife
showed up at Isa’s home to get money from her a few days ago. Isa’s servant can testify that Isa threw Jacoba out for it.”

“And if he starts claiming that Mrs. Cale stole those diamonds in Amsterdam,” Mr. Bonnaud said eagerly, “Victor’s claims otherwise will sound more believable in light of Gerhart’s clear theft of the diamonds now.”

“The timing will have to be precise,” Mr. Manton warned. “We’ll have to work fast.”

“But—” Isa began, not following the conversation at all.

“I know,” Victor said, ignoring her. “Fortunately, with Lochlaw involved, we can shape events to our satisfaction. He’ll make sure the right people are in the right places at the right time.”

Isa stared at them. “But I don’t see—”

“And since no one needs to actually lay their eyes on the diamonds,” Mr. Manton said, “your wife can already have them in her possession while everything is happening.”

“Yes,” Victor said, “she’ll have a part to play as well. Because she has to have a firm alibi for the theft.”

Isa scowled. “I don’t—”

“As do you,” Mr. Manton pointed out.

“Will all of you just be quiet!” Isa finally cried. When she’d got their attention, she said, “I don’t understand you. How can you possibly get Gerhart to steal the diamonds?”

“We can’t,” Victor said, grinning at her. “But we don’t have to. We just have to make it
look
like he did.”
He turned to Mr. Bonnaud. “Ready to do a bit of playacting, old chap?”

♦  ♦  ♦

B
Y TWO O
’
CLOCK,
Victor and Isa were ready for their “alibi” performance. As they headed out to the banks of the river that ran along one end of the Kinlaw Castle grounds, Victor could tell she was nervous, but it didn’t matter.

They had to do this. It was the only way he could think of to save Amalie and her. He hated that she still had to meet with Gerhart, but there was no way around it. He could only pray that Lochlaw was right, and they’d be able to keep her well in sight from certain vantage points along Strathridge Road.

“Victor, I’m not so sure about this part of the plan,” she murmured.

“You don’t think Tristan can steal the diamonds?”

“I’m sure he can, but what if someone gets a good look at him? He’s at least ten years younger than Gerhart, and their faces aren’t remotely similar. Though I suppose the false beard does help.”

“Trust me, Isa,” Victor said as he escorted her down the stairs. “Tristan’s disguise will hold up from a distance.”

“Yes, but what if—”

“Tristan is experienced at slipping into and out of tight spots. He’s not going to let anyone see him closely but Miss Gordon, and she’s already been coached in what to say.”

They’d had to involve the young woman since they needed one reliable “witness” to the “theft” who could raise the alarm.

“Yes, but she’s related to my partner,” Isa said. “Don’t you think the authorities will find her testimony suspicious?”

“Not when she’s also a close friend to the baron whose diamonds are being stolen.” He smiled faintly at her. “And I daresay by the time any trial comes about, she will be an even closer friend to the baron, which will make it even more convincing.”

Her hand tightened on his arm. “I’m worried about Rupert, too. He’s not used to lying; he doesn’t do it well. This will be hard for him.”

“That’s why his involvement is limited to getting his guests and servants where we need them.” And so far Lochlaw had done his part rather well. He’d already gathered the guests for an afternoon tea by the river, and he’d made such a fuss over the preparations that all the house servants were out here attending to everyone.

“And you’re assuming that Gerhart won’t see any of this—”

“The part of the river we’re going to is on the opposite side of the estate from Strathridge Road; that’s why we chose it. Gerhart can’t be in two places at once. It’s also why the timing is so crucial. We want him to be already waiting for you near the road when our ‘theft’ takes place.”

“Oh, Victor, this could go wrong in so many ways.”

He halted to gaze solemnly at her. “Yes, it could. But
it won’t.” He covered her hand and squeezed. “Have faith, my love. Your friends and mine won’t fail us. That’s something else Gerhart isn’t considering: He can’t conceive of people who care so much for each other that money doesn’t matter. He’ll never expect us to have so many friends on our side.”

That must have settled her nerves some, for she gazed up at him, her heart in her eyes. “I love you, Victor.”

“I love you, too. And we’re going to get our daughter back, I swear.” He cast her a hard glance. “Just remember,
don’t
give the diamonds to Gerhart until you have her in your hands. I don’t trust him.”

“Don’t worry. That’s one rule I can easily follow.”

“I assume that Lochlaw has already given the necklace to you,” he said.

“It’s in my . . . er . . . corset cups. I figured I couldn’t lose it there.” She slanted a self-deprecating look at him. “I have plenty of room, after all.”

“Not that much room.” Then something dawned on him. “Your breasts—they’re bigger because of Amalie. God, I’m such a dolt. That should have occurred to me.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Men don’t usually question the reasons for such enhancements. You’re no different from any other man in that respect.”

They fell silent as they neared the crowd by the river, where the baron was already introducing Dom as the owner of Manton’s Investigations and Dr. Worth as a friend of his. Dom took over from there, explaining that his partner, Mr. Bonnaud, had been forced to return to Edinburgh to deal with some business. Since
Lochlaw wasn’t a good liar, they’d figured it was best to give him very few lies to tell.

So Dom chatted amiably about their reason for coming to Scotland—a new case Victor had found them. Tristan had already made sure to be seen riding toward Edinburgh, before he’d circled back to the remote hunting cottage on the estate. He should be there now, donning an oversize coat, which Lochlaw had unearthed from old clothes in the manor attic, and padding it out with extra shirts. He was also using greasepaint to draw on a false beard and tucking his hair up under a wide-brimmed beaver hat to complete his Gerhart disguise.

Miss Gordon glanced at Isa. “I do wish I’d had the forethought to wear a scarf out here, like you. I find it rather chilly.”

“Shall I have a servant fetch your shawl?” Lochlaw asked, forgetting his role.

Fortunately, Miss Gordon was more adept at deception. “Oh no, my lord, I think a brisk walk back to the house will warm me. Besides, I don’t know which one I wish to wear.”

When she smiled shyly at him, Lochlaw looked momentarily dazzled. Then he seemed to remember his part, for he straightened and said, “Oh, right. You ladies do like to . . . look your best.”

“As long as you’re heading back, Mary Grace,” Isa said to smooth over the moment, “would you mind fetching my shawl as well? I believe I left it in her ladyship’s sitting room.”

“I don’t mind a bit,” Miss Gordon said and, with a last veiled glance at Victor, hurried off toward the house.

Victor pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. Damnation. How was he to make polite conversation for another fifteen minutes with his blood pumping and his hands itching to throttle Gerhart?

Lady Zoe walked up to Dom. “You’re one of the Duke’s Men, aren’t you?”

When Dom grimaced, Victor had to choke back a laugh.

“Some call us that, yes,” Dom said tightly. “But we don’t work for the Duke of Lyons all the time, you know. That was just some silly nickname the press gave us after one case.”

“Yes, but it was a rather spectacular case,” she said. “You were the talk of my town for weeks, especially since you and Mr. Bonnaud are Yorkshire-born, and your father’s estate is only a few hours distant from Highthorpe. We were all terribly impressed by how you found Mr. Cale and saved the dukedom.”

“Yes, it was very clever of them, wasn’t it?” Victor put in before Dom could say anything to ruin the young lady’s enthusiasm. It was actually a good thing she knew of Manton’s Investigations. It would make everything easier when the trouble started. “Dom, why don’t you tell Lady Zoe about that case you took in Lancashire, the one with the innkeeper who’d disappeared?”

Though Dom lifted an eyebrow at him, he launched into the tale, which thoroughly engrossed the other guests, too. Victor listened with only half an ear, aware
that any minute now, Tristan would be slipping into Lady Lochlaw’s boudoir and breaking open the jewelry case.

He cast a quick eye over the crowd. Thank God Lady Lochlaw seemed to have no desire to leave the party. If she headed for the house, it would muck up their plan considerably.

Though Dom dragged out his tale a long time, Dr. Worth was forced to jump in and ask more questions to keep it going. Victor wanted to growl his frustration. What the devil was taking Tristan so long?

Isa squeezed his arm, clearly impatient, too.

And then he heard it—Miss Gordon screaming as she ran across the wide lawn to the riverside. “Help, someone, help!”

Lochlaw leapt into action. “What is it, Miss Gordon?” he called.

“There was a strange man in her ladyship’s sitting room!” she cried as she approached them, all out of breath. “I—I think I took him . . . by surprise. It looked as if he’d broken . . . open a case of some kind.”

Lady Lochlaw’s eyes went wide. “My jewelry! Oh, Lord!”

As if on cue, Tristan sprinted away from the side of the house farthest from them. As the guests looked on in horror, he jumped dramatically atop a horse he’d had waiting there and rode off into the woods.

“Mr. Manton and I will catch him, my lady!” Victor cried as he and Dom sprang for the house. “Don’t you worry!”

Behind him, he heard the baron telling his mother
that they should leave this to the investigators. But Victor had known there would be male guests, and perhaps even servants, who would want to join the chase, so he’d charged Dr. Worth with staying behind to urge caution and keep the other guests from jumping in.

Victor and Dom ran toward the house, both of them calling for horses as they neared the stables. The minute the grooms came running out with mounts, they jumped on and rode off for the woods in the direction Tristan had gone.

They rode hard for several minutes until they came to the cottage where Tristan was awaiting them. Dom and Victor pulled up in front. “Did anyone see you?” Dom asked.

“No one but Miss Gordon,” Tristan said as his horse danced a little, still blowing hard. “And by the way, she’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?”

“Don’t even think it,” Victor said with a roll of his eyes. “She’s Lochlaw’s.”

“I was merely commenting that she is an attractive—”

“Quiet!” Dom ground out, and they all fell silent, listening. The sound of an approaching horse made Victor curse. Someone had managed to follow them despite Dr. Worth’s efforts.

When the horse burst into the clearing with Lady Zoe atop it, Dom began to curse, too. Spotting them, she drew the horse up short, her eyes going wide.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” Tristan growled, the only one of them who hadn’t met her.

She screamed, turned her horse before any of them could react, and spurred it into a gallop back the way she’d come. Tristan thought quicker than any of them and was off after her before Victor could even blink.

A short while later, he returned with the lady sitting across the saddle in front of him. He had one hand on the reins and the other across her mouth, but he was having a devil of a time controlling her. As soon as he pulled up, she started fighting him in truth.

“Stop it, damn you!” Tristan cried and pulled his pistol from his coat pocket. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

She froze, her eyes widening in terror as she gazed at Victor.

“Put that thing away, for God’s sake,” Victor ordered. “You’re frightening the poor woman.”

“Good,” Tristan said blithely. “She shouldn’t be running after a— Ow!” He jerked his hand from her mouth. “That ‘poor woman’ bit me!”

“It’s no more than you deserve,” Lady Zoe cried as she slid from the horse and backed away from the three of them, looking as if she’d bolt any second. “I can’t believe you’re all really thieves!”

Muttering a curse, Victor got off his horse and walked toward her. “This is not what you think, Lady Zoe.”