Chapter Thirty-Four
M alcolm adjusted his white waistcoat and tugged the sleeves of his blue frock coat into place as he waited for the clerk to ascertain if Admiral Garrison was ready for their meeting. Malcolm was not acquainted with Garrison personally but had heard that he was a hard man to serve under.
The young clerk came scurrying back down the long, carpeted hallway. “This way, Commander.”
When he walked into Admiral Garrison’s office, Malcolm’s first impression was that the man enjoyed excess. Several credenzas lined the walls covered in books and trinkets of all types. Brass spyglasses, octants, a beautifully carved sundial, along with several antique compasses and a shiny silver bosun’s whistle, were arranged for display. A large globe perched in its own stand in one corner, while a cabinet with crystal decanters full of spirits took up the opposite corner of the room. The admiral stood behind his expansive desk and wore full dress uniform, including a powdered wig.
Malcolm took off his peaked hat and gave his superior a bow. “Good afternoon, Admiral.” He tucked his hat under one arm. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Good afternoon, Commander Iveson. Have a seat. I assume you are here because you heard of Daniels’s death.”
Malcolm sat in a plush leather chair. “Yes, sir. I do not know if you have been briefed yet about the last assignment Admiral Daniels had me working on.”
“I have. Missing artifacts from Greece.” The admiral laced his fingers across his ample midsection. “Where have you been, Commander Iveson?”
“Admiral Daniels granted me four weeks of leave, sir.”
“I have been told that you absconded with the daughter of Lord Rawlings.”
Malcolm schooled his features into a cold mask. This was not where he fathomed the conversation would go. Rawlings had come to the admiralty about Adeline? Hadn’t George told him he requested Malcolm take her to Millstone? What the hell was going on?
“Her father and her fiancé are both very worried about her whereabouts.”
“Sir, both of those men are behind the theft of the ancient artifacts stolen from a Greek statesman. They have plans to sell the smuggled items for profit. I overheard their conversation myself and reported the details to Admiral Daniels.”
“The stolen artifacts were never found. And the accusations are unfounded at best and a fabrication at worst. Commander Iveson, you were the lead investigator. You have conveniently gone missing the past fortnight. The earl believes with his daughter in tow.” Garrison laid his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I think you did find the missing items and kept them for yourself. Where are they?”
Malcolm swallowed his indignation at being accused of the crime. “Sir, why would I return here today if I planned to flee with the items?”
“To try and divert blame away from yourself.” The admiral shrugged.
There was no doubt in Malcolm’s mind that Daniels had been murdered for what he knew. Two powerful men had panicked at the prospect of being publicly investigated. Now, Bellamy and Rawlings had twisted the discourse to frame him. But he would not give up Adeline or their precious artifacts.
He assessed Admiral Garrison. Was he easily swayed by lies, unwilling to think peers could be criminals or…Malcolm glanced over the richly appointed room, then to the gold rings that decorated Garrison’s fingers…perhaps he was being paid off to find a scapegoat. Either way, Malcolm was fucked.
Malcolm straightened his shoulders. “Sir, with all due respect, I do not appreciate your insinuation that I have done anything criminal. Bellamy was playing both sides, complaining about the missing items while being the mastermind of the plan to bring them into the country. I do not know where Rawlings has stashed the items. Nor do I know where his daughter is.”
“I don’t believe you, sailor. The reputations of two respected gentlemen are in jeopardy. Perhaps a night or two in the brig will loosen your tongue and your conscience.” He rose and crossed to open the door to his office. Two officers stood at attention in the hallway. “Escort this sailor to the detention center.”
Malcolm didn’t fight as the two lieutenants each grabbed one of his arms. He knew appearances mattered. The best way to keep from being flogged would be to go nicely and keep his mouth shut. But, Christ , he was well and truly fucked.
*
Malcolm paced his cell. The five-foot-by-ten-foot space made him feel like a caged tiger. He had been here for three days. Three days of not knowing what was happening with Adeline. Three days of pissing in a bucket. He could smell his own stench. He paced back and forth. This room had no space to even breathe, damn it!
The scrape of the lock being turned stopped him in his tracks. When the door swung open, Lord Rawlings sauntered into the room. He glanced around and scrunched his nose. “Good day to you, Kingsbury. Smells terrible in here.”
“What do you want, Rawlings?”
Adeline’s father waved a hand, and a guard entered the room. The guard roughly grasped Malcolm by the arm, then twisted both arms behind his back and clamped a pair of irons around his wrists. Malcolm clenched his fists and growled, baring his teeth at Rawlings.
“All secure, my lord. Open the door if you need anything.” He walked out of the cell and closed the door.
“Now, you know what I want. Are you ready to talk after three days in the clink?”
“You won’t find her,” Malcolm spat out.
“Do you think I mean Adeline?” A dry chuckle erupted from between his thin lips. “Oh please, she was easy to flush out. She only has two friends. All I had to do was send a fake note from her brother saying that her mother was ill and needed her. She came flying home.”
No, Adeline. Malcolm closed his eyes. I said stay put. It was just like her to not think straight if someone she loved needed her.
“Did you know that Bellamy decided she wasn’t worth the trouble the minute she went out the window with you? He would have been an excellent addition to the family, but no, Adeline had to go thinking for herself and disobeying her father.”
Malcolm snorted.
Rawlings stepped closer, his breath rancid and his eyes narrowed. “It was so easy to dispose of her. A little poison in her tea, and she slipped into unconsciousness. So tragic that she caught some terrible illness on the road.”
“No!” Panic exploded in his chest. “Even you wouldn’t kill your own daughter.” It couldn’t be true.
“Daughter? Didn’t she tell you? She’s not mine. She was nothing but a thorn in my side. Too awkward and ugly to marry off, years of paying for her seasons… Bellamy took a fancy to her, though; that was her last chance.”
Malcolm stared in horror at Rawlings’s placid expression. The man’s eyes held so much malice that Malcolm believed what he said. Please, no, not Adeline. He stumbled backward as though he had been struck. His back hit the wall. An image of Adeline slumped back against the sofa cushions, her eyes shut, her chest still, flooded his vision. His legs turned to jelly, and he slid down to the floor.
“Kingsbury, where are the artifacts she stole from me? Kingsbury!”
He blinked up at Rawlings, whose expression had morphed into one of panic. Malcolm gave a hoarse chuckle. He could rot in hell. “You’ll never get your hands on them.”
Rawlings gripped the front of Malcolm’s shirt and shook him roughly. “Where are they?”
Malcolm sneered. “They are at Hartwick House.”
“Fucking Hartwick.” Rawlings let go of him with a shove. He got up and knocked on the door to leave. Malcolm barely noticed. He could only think about Adeline. His love. He was the reason she was dead. Everything he loved died.
He sat on the floor, staring blankly at the stone wall across from him. Then he heard the lock turn again. The guard came in and unchained his arms. Another guard set down a tray with a tin cup of water and two slices of bread on the floor in front of him.
“Here is your meal for today. Bon appétit .” Both men laughed heartily as they left.
If his sweet Adeline was gone, he had nothing to live for. Malcolm kicked the tray across the room with a satisfying clatter and splash as the water spilled onto the floor.