Chapter 18 #2
Cart counted to ten in his head, beseeching his anger to subside before he said something that would damage his close relationship with Theo.
“You allow me to worry about the gossips, you are just a child.” It was extremely disheartening to hear his sister agonize over society’s opinion of the Montgomery family.
“Now, let us revisit your thoughts on Jude…err, Miss Judith being the woman who entered our home—which is a horrible thing to do, by the way.”
“It is more than just a thought, dear brother,” she said, slumping into her chair. “I have verified my first assumption and found my original notion to be true and correct.”
Cart wanted to smile at her ploy of using the scientific method and basic hypothetical construct to convince him of her statement. “And how did you double check your hypothesis?”
At his question, Theo did not hold back her grin. “I convinced you to allow me to tag along when you went to the library to meet her again.”
“You little minx.” He’d thought he’d been the one to come up with the notion of her accompanying him. Yet another example of how easily he was manipulated. The thought stung, knowing he was no wiser to people’s tricks than five years ago.
“It is far worse than that,” Theo admitted.
“How could it be any worse?”
“I visited her home today.”
“Theo.” Cart felt his anger increase further. “Why would you do that?”
“That is not the important part, Simon,” she rushed to say. “There was a man there as I arrived. He thought I was a member of Jude’s family and handed me a note meant for someone in her household.”
“Why should this diminish my fury over her actions?” Deep down, Cart hoped Theo could offer some valid excuse for Jude’s actions.
“I certainly did not open private correspondence meant for another.”
“Of course, you refrained from such actions,” he said. “But what did you see?”
“The letter was clearly marked with the words Final Notice: Delinquency. Debts due immediately. I do not know who the missive was from but it is certainly of an important nature, is it not?”
Cart nodded.
“Simon,” Theo continued, “I know you have plans for me to go away for a proper schooling.”
“I do.”
“And I also heard Momma speak of her intent to travel.”
“Yes,” Cart confirmed. “I was taken aback by her decision to refrain from society for a time. It was not something I thought she ever wanted.”
“With Momma away—and me at school—I fear what you will do.” She stared at him intently for the first time since entering the room, taking in his reactions to her concerns. “I care for you and I worry about your future.”
“You are sounding more and more like our mother each day, puppet.”
“You cannot base your entire future around inanimate objects when there are so many living, breathing things in the world,” Theo said.
Cart wanted to push her concerns to the wayside, convince her they were not valid concerns at all. But he knew his tendency to surround himself with unmoving things—for those things could never hurt him.
“Tell me I will not have to worry about you while I’m gone, because, if I do, then I will refuse to go.”
“You cannot do that, I will not allow it, Theo,” he retorted. “Besides, it is I who will worry over your future, not the other way around. I am your elder brother—it is my task to secure your future—and Mother’s.”
“But not at the expense of your own.” Theo shook her head as if he’d shared the saddest news she’d yet heard. “Promise me you will listen to Miss Judith—truly hear her words and try to understand her actions.”
“I am undecided on that at this moment.” Cart didn’t want to hear what that woman had to say—he could not think of one valid reason she could put forth to justify her stealing into his home.
“But if she comes to you…”
“I will hear her out, puppet.” Cart massaged the back of his neck, a headache threatening to take over.
“Maybe not wait for her to come to you.”
“I appreciate your sisterly concern, Theo.” It was the one aspect of their relationship he cherished the most. They wanted the best for one another, with no reservations.
“So, what do you plan to do?” Theo raised her brow as if challenging Cart to make a decision on his course of action.
Little did she know Cart had been debating his next move for the past several days—and her confession did not make his choice any easier. Or clearer.
After Theo had departed his study, Cart tore up the letter he’d been drafting to Lord Gunther, deciding to deliver the news by servant.
It had taken him approximately twenty-nine minutes to collect his nerve, his overcoat, and hail a hackney to deliver him to Lord Gunther’s stoop.
It had taken him exactly twenty-nine seconds to regret his actions, but it was far too late for a change of course as he paced Lord Gunther’s private receiving room, awaiting the lord’s arrival.
Cart counted his footfalls as he walked from one side of the room to the furthest edge, close to the windows overlooking the rear gardens.
It took him fourteen strides to cross the span of the area, though normally it would be closer to eighteen.
But with his increased agitation, his normal gait was widened considerably.
His tension stemmed from his wild notion of how to retrieve Lord Gunther’s vase—and keep Jude’s hand in it all secret, taking away any risk she’d be detained and punished for the theft, and giving her the pounds she clearly needed so badly.
There was no possible way he could gather the fifty pounds she requested to purchase the vase, especially with the coin he’d handed to his mother only days before.
He needed Gunther’s wealth…there was no other option that he could deduce.
He was still reeling from Theo’s revelation. He was unsure if he could bring himself to accept the dire nature of his purported association with Jude—she’d lied to him, she’d used him, and he’d allowed her to do it. And even with all that, he’d set out to help her.
She was to blame for his inability to reason a solution to his current problem—a problem that was also, conveniently, caused by her.
“Lord Cartwright,” Lord Gunther’s voice boomed behind him. “Did we have a meeting scheduled for today? I was not expecting you.”
Cart swallowed the urge to tell Gunther everything—where to find his precious vase and who was to blame for this entire debacle. Instead, he pulled a folded note from his inside coat pocket and presented it to the man.
“What is this?” Gunther asked as he took hold of it, turning it over in is hand as if he had no intention of reading it.
“Forgive my intrusion, but I received this missive only a short time ago and thought it urgent enough to come straight away,” Cart lied, the deception rolling easily off his tongue.
That was a fact he would need to analyze later.
At length. “It is known I have been searching for the vase and someone has come forth with information.”
“Who is it?” Gunther grunted, unfolding the note. “I will send for the magistrate immediately.” Before Cart could dissuade him, Gunther pulled the bell cord to summon a servant.
“My lord—“ Cart attempted to stop Lord Gunther as he read the note.
“This note is not signed.” He waved the paper in the air. “This tells us nothing except that someone claims to have my vase—no name, no directions, nothing of use. What is going on, Cartwright?”
Cart focused on holding eye contact, refusing to look away and confirming the man’s suspicions.
“I am as puzzled as you, my lord,” said Cart, shaking his head to further solidify his words.
Inside, Cart was angrier than he’d ever remembered being, even directly after his uncle’s misdeeds were exposed, but he could not allow Jude and her family to suffer.
Jude was a liar, a deceitful woman, but what kind of gentleman would Cart be to allow a woman in need to go without help?
“It arrived this morning. My butler tells me it was delivered by a hired messenger, who knew nothing of import and was directed not to await a reply to the letter.”
Startled, Cart realized even if his uncle had come to him after all he’d done, Cart would have accepted him and done what he could to help the man.
“And this person only requests fifty pounds for the return of it?” When Cart nodded in confirmation, Gunther took to pacing the same path Cart had only moments before. “How do we know this person has the vase? Or that once they have the funds, it will be returned?”
“We do not know,” Cart replied with all honesty, except he did know the person who held the vase, and did not doubt she would hand it over when she received payment.
He refused to believe she’d duped him without good reason.
“If you so desire, I will handle the transaction and take all the responsibility. I will take the ransom and exchange it for the vase—if there is no vase, then we are back to where we were before I arrived today, your fifty pounds still in hand.”
He hoped his confident demeanor was enough to convince Gunther to trust that all would be as it should.
Cart waited in silence as the man continued to pace back and forth.
Cart longing to do the same. Instead, he focused on the decorative paper covering the wall on each side of the hearth, counting the many swirls and committing the complex pattern to memory.
It was useless information to retain but brought a form of tranquility to him—something he could control, the numbers, the speed of his counting, and the consistency of the pattern.
After several minutes, he was certain he could close his eyes and draw the swirling pattern from memory.
“I will have my man of business send the banknotes by tomorrow morning.” He handed the letter back to Cart, who slipped it into his pocket, knowing it would be tossed in his own hearth as soon as he returned to his townhouse.
“Please inform me when things are done.” The man clasped Cart’s shoulder and squeezed. “I do thank you for all you are doing.”
At what point had Cart compromised his integrity so far that he felt only a small degree of the guilt that should weigh him down at this point?
Cart took a small step away from the man, causing Gunther’s hand to fall back to his side.
“Antiquities are my passion.” The statement was as true as it had been before he’d had the misfortune of meeting Miss Judith and would be just as true after she was out of his life and forgotten. “The passion extends to my own collecting and the safeguarding of all things of a historical nature.”
The older man nodded as Cart spoke, clearly encouraged by his declaration.
“Then I will wish you Godspeed, Lord Cartwright.”
Cart bowed stiffly, accepting the man’s good wishes, though he didn’t deserve them. “I know my way out. Good day, my lord.”
As he fled Lord Gunther’s townhouse, he noticed his strides were no longer sure and wide, but short and hurried—almost as if he were running away from something. When, in fact, he sensed he was running toward something. Or rather, someone.
His sense of obligation toward Jude knew no bounds—and bordered on irrational. He was now determined to extricate her from the predicament she’d placed herself in.
With the money, she should have no reason to steal…and he would have her word that she’d never put herself in harm’s way again.