Using the cravat, he quickly tied Gordon’s hands tightly behind his back in case he regained consciousness. Then grabbing Gordon’s pistol, he turned to Victoria and her father.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, dropping to his knees.
“I’m fine. But Father…”
“Let me look,” he said, gently moving her pressing hands away from her father’s shoulder. “I need you to bring me my knife. Then I want you to gather up the jewels and our tools.”
She scrambled to her feet and seconds later returned with Nathan’s knife. He gently rolled her father onto his back and checked his pulse. Strong and steady. He used his knife to cut away the bloodied jacket and shirtsleeve. Probing the oozing wound on his shoulder, Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. “Flesh wound.” He looked at the purple bruise on Lord Wexhall’s forehead. “Looks like he’s unconscious from knocking his head on the ground.”
“He’s going to be all right?” Victoria asked, kneeling beside him, her arms filled with their belongings.
“Yes. His wound is little more than a scratch, and he has the hardest head of anyone I’ve ever met. I suspect he’ll have a devil of a headache for the next day or so.”
As if to prove his words, Wexhall groaned. They both looked down. “Ooooh, I’ve a devil of a headache,” he murmured. He blinked several times then attempted a smile at his daughter. “Victoria,” he whispered.
“I’m right here, Father,” she said, a catch in her voice.
Nathan heard the pounding of horses’ hooves. Retrieving his gun, he peered around the corner of the crumbling wall. Seconds later Colin rode into view, followed by a man Nathan recognized as the local magistrate.
“Am I too late?” his brother asked, dismounting before he’d even fully reined in.
Nathan smiled. “You’re right on time.”
Several hours later Victoria stood next to her father’s bed, holding his hand. Father, propped up on a mound of fluffy pillows, glared at the assembled group standing around the bed.
“I wish you would all stop staring at me,” he grumbled. “I’m perfectly fit.” The impatience in his voice let Victoria know more than his words that he was telling the truth. “If you don’t believe me, ask my doctor,” he continued, indicating Nathan with a bob of his chin. “I’ve been bathed and bandaged within an inch of my life, and have been told that I have to take a nap. My injuries only look serious because of all these blasted bandages wrapped around me. A sling for my arm, linen strips around my head, why ‘tis ridiculous. I sustained a scratch on my shoulder and bump on my head.”
“I think the bandages make you look rakishly handsome,” she teased. “And rather… helpless.”
“Just how I wish to be viewed,” Father grumbled.
“Consider yourself fortunate that I do, lest I’d be tempted to lay you low for not confiding in your daughter about your secret life as a spy.”
“Or your sister,” Aunt Delia said with a sniff.
“Now see here, Victoria, Delia, I couldn’t very well tell you something like that. It was imperative my identity remain secret.” He sighed. “Of course, the cat’s out of the bag now. Looks like I’ll be retiring.”
“I realize you couldn’t tell, Father.” Victoria leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m very proud of you.”
Color rushed into his pale cheeks. “Thank you, my dear. As I’m proud of you. A father couldn’t ask for a better daughter.” When Aunt Delia cleared her throat, Father hastily added, “Or a better sister.”
Everyone chuckled, then Nathan’s father said, “Well I for one am anxious to know exactly how this all came about.”
“I think perhaps Colin should begin,” Nathan said. “I’d be very interested to know the details of how he came by this.” He pulled a piece of ivory vellum from his waistcoat pocket and dangled it in front of his brother.
Lord Sutton’s brows shot upward. “Where did you find that?”
“On the balcony of your bedchamber. You must have dropped it during last night’s nocturnal visit.”
A sheepish look crossed Lord Sutton’s face, then he grinned. “Rather careless of me.”
“Yes. Who did you steal it from?”
Nathan and his brother exchanged a long look. Then Lord Sutton said softly, “You never doubted that I stole it from someone? Never believed I’d arranged to have it stolen from you?”
“No.”
“Your faith in me is more than I deserve.”
“I disagree, but we can argue about that later. Now, from whom did you steal it?”
“A man named Oscar Dempsy. A week ago, I visited a tavern in Penzance where I heard this brute at the next table bragging about stealing a treasure map from ‘a doc and a little lady’ which he planned to sell for a large price. Being the incredibly clever gent I am, I suspected he meant Nathan and Lady Victoria. I bought the man several rounds, heard the story of how he cornered them in the woods and gave the little lady a nick for a souvenir. During his tale I relieved him of his ill-gotten gains. I briefly excused myself, claiming, um, personal needs, and quickly copied the note and map. When I rejoined him, I slipped his copy back in his pocket without him ever being the wiser.”
“Very ingenious,” Nathan murmured.
“I thought so. I’d intended to follow Dempsy to see who he sold the letter and map to, but unfortunately one of those tavern brawls broke out and in the melee I lost him. I practically haunted the tavern for the next four days, but he never returned.”
“He’s dead,” Nathan said in a cold, flat voice. “Gordon killed him. Probably not ten seconds after getting the letter from him.” He looked at his brother. “Why didn’t you come to me with this information?”
Lord Sutton met his brother’s gaze. “As soon as I learned that it was indeed you he’d robbed and Lady Victoria he’d hurt, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake ever doubting you. Why would you hire someone to rob you? And I knew, without a doubt, you would never do anything that might endanger Lady Victoria. I decided then and there that I had to make amends for the terrible disservice I’d done you.”
Nathan’s gaze flicked to Victoria and she nodded. He’d been absolutely right about his brother’s motives. “Go on,” Nathan said.
“After deciding Dempsy wasn’t coming back, based on the information in the letter and map I’d copied, I took a boat to the Isles of Scilly and did a bit of searching, but turned up nothing. I was surprised to run into Gordon there, especially since he suffers from seasickness and hates the boat crossing to the islands. We chatted, but I found him evasive, and of course, I was equally so. He returned to Penzance with me, and although we parted amiably, my suspicions were aroused. I decided to come back to the house last night and do a bit of eavesdropping to see what I could find out. I wanted to know if you’d located the jewels, or were close to doing so.”
“Clearly you heard something that prompted the search of my bedchamber,” Nathan said.
“Yes. I heard you mention a grid map. When I discovered it in your boot heel-nice hiding spot, by the way-along with the letter and map, I realized that I’d been on a wild goose chase.”
“What was in the sack you were carrying as you skulked away from the house?” Nathan asked.
Lord Sutton grinned. “Clean clothes.”
“Hmnm. And what happened after you eavesdropped then stole my belongings?”
“I returned to the inn in Penzance and pored over that drawing all last night, yet I couldn’t figure out where to search next. But then Fate stepped in, in the form of Lord Wexhall. I’d just finished breakfast this morning when he strolled into the dining room. He was as surprised to see me as I was him.”
Victoria’s father picked up the story from there. “I’d arrived in Penzance last night with the thought in mind of doing a bit of snooping around the area before making myself known.”
“Once a spy…” Nathan said with a smile.
Her father smiled. “Yes, old habits die hard. Anyway, after some discussion, Sutton filled me in on his plan to recover the jewels and clear Nathan’s name. I pulled out the replica of the map I’d hidden in Victoria’s luggage-” He glanced up at her and gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, my dear.” After clearing his throat, he continued, “Sutton showed me the letter and map and grid he’d taken from Nathan’s room. It was immediately apparent that for some reason his map was noticeably different than mine.”
Nathan’s gaze shot to Victoria and heat crept up her face. “I did say that I wasn’t an artist,” she said in her own defense. “And it was your goat who ate the original.”
“Goat?” Father asked, raising a brow.
“I’ll explain later,” Victoria said. “Continue.”
“Sutton studied my map,” her father went on, “and Nathan’s grid map. With the proper drawing, it didn’t take him long to figure out that the sketch depicted three streams. And that he knew of such a place that wasn’t already marked off on the grid map. We compared thoughts and theories and realized that since neither of us had betrayed the mission and neither believed Nathan did, that only left one person who could have-Gordon.”
“That realization pushed us to act,” Lord Sutton said. “We rode here to tell Nathan and Lady Victoria what we’d learned, but they weren’t here. We realized they must be searching for the jewels, and since they’d apparently left very early, we surmised they might have figured out the correct place to search. Since we didn’t know where Gordon was, and we needed to find Nathan and Lady Victoria right away to warn them, Lord Wexhall and I split up. I went to Alwyck Manor to confront Gordon, and I told Lord Wexhall how to get to the ruins by the stream. When I discovered Gordon wasn’t at home, I went immediately to fetch the magistrate, then we went to the ruins. We were nearly there when we heard the most god-awful, inhuman-sounding wail.” He looked at Victoria and winked. “Nicely done.”
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