"I saw him. In the woods. Dressed all in black, with a full head mask. He rescued Miss Barrow."
For the space of a heartbeat, everything in Eric froze. His breath. His blood. His heart. Then, he raised his brows, and said in a controlled voice, "Surely you are mistaken-"
"There is no mistake," Hubert broke in, shaking his head. "I saw him with my sister and Miss Barrow. And before he mounted his horse to ride away with Miss Barrow, I sprinkled my powder on his saddle, reins, and stirrups. And the next day… yesterday… you called on Sammie. Traces of my powder were on your boots. Your mount's saddle, reins, and stirrups as well."
"My boots and riding equipment merely collected dust on the way here."
"It was not dust, Lord Wesley. It was my powder. I would recognize it anywhere. But just to confirm my observations, I wiped a bit from your saddle. It was a perfect match."
Jesus. Eric barely managed to swallow his bark of incredulous laughter. Every damn official in England, along with the Bride Thief Posse, and hundreds of other people eager to collect the price on his head wanted to capture the Bride Thief-and a fourteen-year-old had succeeded where they all had failed. If he weren't so stunned and alarmed, he'd offer Hubert his heartiest congratulations on a job well done. Unfortunately, Hubert's brilliance could very well cost him his life.
He quickly considered several falsehoods he could try to foist upon the boy, but just as quickly realized the futility of such a plan. Hubert was not only keenly intelligent, he was tenacious as well. Clearly he stood a better chance of trusting him rather than attempting to deceive him, but he had several points to make first.
"You're asking if I'm the Bride Thief."
Hubert nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Are you looking to collect the reward for his capture?"
The boy's eyes filled with shocked distress. "Egad, no, my lord. I have the greatest respect for your… his… your mission. You are the personification of bravery and heroism. I mean, he is. Er, you are." His face flushed crimson. "Um, you both are."
Eric narrowed his eyes. "You realize that if the Bride Thief is caught, he will hang."
The crimson drained from Hubert's cheeks. "I swear, upon my soul, that I will never tell anyone. Ever. I would never do anything to harm you, my lord. You've been a good friend to me. And to Sammie as well."
At the mention of her name, Eric's hands fisted. "Have you spoken of this to her?"
Hubert shook his head so hard he nearly dislodged his spectacles. "No, my lord. And you have my word of honor that I will not." He cleared his throat. "And I suggest that you not consider confiding in her either."
"You do realize that if the magistrate discovers Samantha aided the Bride Thief in his rescue of Miss Barrow, she could be brought up on charges."
Hubert's complexion whitened to chalk. "The magistrate will hear nothing from me. But I meant you should not tell Sammie because I think the news would anger her. You see, she told me…" His voice trailed off and he frowned.
Eric's heart jumped into double time. "What did she tell you?"
"She said honesty is crucial and that lies destroy trust." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She said that without trust, there is nothing."
Eric clenched his teeth against the pain of Hubert's words. There was, of course, no hope that he and Samantha could ever share a future, due to his work as the Bride Thief. Nor would he ever risk her safety by telling her his identity. Yet, even if, for one wild, impossible moment he'd considered doing so, he'd clearly lose her anyway for deceiving her. Without trust there is nothing.
Hubert squared his shoulders and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I do not want my sister hurt, Lord Wesley."
"Nor do I, Hubert. I give you my word of honor that I will allow nothing to harm her."
Lifting his chin a notch, Hubert added, "She cares for you. Do not be careless with her feelings."
Admiration for the boy filled Eric even as his words slapped him with guilt. She cares for you. God help him, but he cared for her as well. Too much.
"I'll not hurt her," he assured Hubert. "I fully understand and respect your wish to protect your sister. I feel the same way about my sister. She is the reason I do… what I do."
Hubert's eyes widened. "I must say, I'd wondered why."
"Our father forced her to many. I couldn't save her, so I save others."
Understanding dawned in Hubert's gaze and they shared a long, measuring look. Then Eric slowly extended his hand. "I believe we understand each other."
Hubert firmly shook his proffered hand. "We do. And may I say that it is an honor to know you."
Some of the tension drained from Eric's shoulders. "Odd. I was just about to say the same thing to you." He released the boy's hand, then inclined his head toward the door. "I'd like to introduce our sisters. Is Miss Briggeham at home?"
"She was reading in the drawing room when I came to the Chamber."
"Excellent." Eric led the way outside, blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright sunshine. He spied Margaret sitting on a stone bench in the garden, and raised his hand in greeting. She returned his wave, then stood. She had covered half the distance between them when she halted. Her eyes widened and appeared riveted on something behind him. Turning, he looked in the direction of her fixed stare and froze. He sensed Hubert coming to stand beside him and heard the boy's quick intake of breath.
Walking toward them, her expression grim, was Samantha.
Alongside her walked Adam Straton, the magistrate.
Chapter Seventeen
As Sammie and the magistrate approached the Chamber, she tried to mask the disquiet niggling at her nerves. Mr. Straton's unannounced visit to question her further about her abduction by the Bride Thief had left her decidedly unsettled. Although his queries gave no firm indication that he suspected her of wrongdoing, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd somehow discovered her part in Miss Barrow's rescue. She'd been relieved when he'd announced his intention to leave, but as she'd escorted him toward the stables to fetch his mount, they'd spied Lord Wesley and Hubert emerging from the Chamber.
Her heart had jumped at the sight of Eric, but to her consternation, Mr. Straton had immediately changed his course and headed toward the Chamber, murmuring that he'd like a word with the earl. Struggling to keep up with his long-legged strides, Sammie noticed a woman step from the garden path to stand alongside Eric. There was no mistaking the resemblance between them, and she instantly recognized her as Eric's sister from the portrait she'd seen at Wesley Manor. She was dressed in black, and sympathy tugged at Sammie. Just this morning Mama had mentioned that Lord Wesley's sister was recently widowed.
When she and Mr. Straton joined the trio in front of the Chamber, the entire group stood motionless for several seconds, a silent tableau with a quintet of differing expressions.
Samantha tried to hide her own discomfort, but was not certain she succeeded. Hubert, she noticed, was staring at Mr. Straton, as if he'd seen a ghost. Eric's features were completely devoid of expression as he, too, looked at the magistrate. Like Hubert and Eric, his sister's gaze was riveted on the magistrate, her eyes wide, her face pale. Sammie glanced toward Mr. Straton and observed that his attention was focused on Eric's sister. For some reason the air surrounding the entire group seemed charged with tension-or perhaps it was only her anxiety making it seem so.
Eric broke the silence. Inclining his head toward her and the magistrate, he said, "Good afternoon. May I introduce my sister, Lady Darvin. This is Miss Samantha Briggeham, and I believe you already know Mr. Straton, the magistrate."
Sammie performed a curtsy then offered the woman a smile. "A pleasure to meet you."
There was no mistaking the sadness in the half-smile Lady Darvin gave her, and compassion washed over Sammie, not only for the loss of her husband, but because she recalled Eric saying his sister's marriage had not been a happy one.
"A pleasure for me as well, Miss Briggeham," said Lady Darvin, "although I believe we may have met each other years ago at some soiree or another."
Mr. Straton stepped forward and performed a stiff bow. "An honor to see you again, Lady Darvin."
Color suffused Lady Darvin's pale cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. "And you, Mr. Straton."
"My condolences on the loss of your husband."
"Thank you."
Another awkward silence fell over the group, and Sammie wondered why Eric had not mentioned his brother-in-law's death or his sister's visit, to her.
Finally Eric spoke up. "What brings you to the Briggeham home, Straton?"
"I wished to ask Miss Briggeham several more questions regarding her encounter with the Bride Thief."
Sammie bit the inside of her cheek and prayed her feelings did not show. It would never do for Mr. Straton to suspect that she knew a great deal more than she would ever tell him.
"How did those leads you were following work out?" asked Eric.
"They proved useless. But I have received new information that appears most promising."
Eric's brows rose. "Indeed? Anything you can share?"
"One of the victims who was abducted last year wrote to her family. Her father brought me the letter this morning. In it she reassured her family that she was all right. She did not reveal her whereabouts other than to say she was living in America and had recently married. The most interesting information was that she traveled to America on passage and funds provided to her by the Bride Thief the night she was kidnapped." Mr. Straton stroked his jaw. "I must say I am relieved. This new evidence at least shows that the Bride Thief did not murder the girl."
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