Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

W hen Ash entered his chambers, he was shocked but so relieved to see Fogg there. A footman cowered in the chair beside him.

“Thank God you’re back, Fogg. I’ve just mucked everything up.”

He raised his brow and turned his hands up exasperatedly. “I’ve been gone a day and a half. How did you manage that?”

Ash shook his head and gestured at the footman. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh him?” Fogg jerked toward him and the man flinched. “He’s the one who’s been reporting to Warwick since you arrived. I found him in here poking about.”

Ash folded his arms across his chest, tucking his cane into the crook of his elbow. He turned his glare on the footman. He was hardly more than a boy and looked terrified. Ash couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for him. “What’s your name?”

“James, my lord.” Fear made his voice crack slightly as he spoke.

“You have some explaining to do, James.”

He swallowed, but he didn’t speak.

“Unless you’d rather I just let you go without a reference. Warwick certainly won’t be able to help you, though, as he’s currently locked up, so I don’t kill the vile bastard.”

Fogg swung around to face him. Ash shrugged. “I told you I mucked it up.”

“Well, it’s good I didn’t waste any time, then.”

“Did you get some answers?”

Fogg rolled his eyes and gestured to the footman.

“Oh, right,” Ash said. He’d been so anxious to hear what Fogg had uncovered, he’d almost forgotten about the footman. “So what’s it going to be, James? Are you going to talk or take your chances out in the cold tonight?”

“I’m sorry, my lord. I’ll tell you anything. Please don’t throw me out.”

“Good choice, lad. So what are you doing in my chambers?”

He swallowed and his voice shook as he spoke. “Mr. Warwick wanted me to see if I could find anything that might indicate you have some kind of reason for being here other than just visiting your estate. He said it’s too much of a coincidence, you showing up after all this time, right after the robbery.”

“And which robbery is that?”

James shrugged timidly. “I don’t know. That’s just what he said.”

“And why did you think you owe your loyalty to him, James, rather than to me? I am, after all, the master of this estate.”

He lowered his gaze and picked at the fabric of his trouser leg. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean to be disloyal.”

Ash tapped his cane against the man’s knee. “Look at me when you’re speaking to me,” he barked.

James shrank back in the chair but raised his frightened eyes to Ash’s face. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“So if you didn’t mean to be disloyal, then explain to me how one is accidentally perfidious.”

He started to lower his gaze again but caught himself and quickly corrected. “Mr. Warwick said he’d tell you I stole a bottle of brandy if I didn’t do as he asked.”

“That doesn’t explain why you sent word to him when I arrived.”

“Well, the truth is, I did steal a bottle of brandy, six months ago. He’s been holding it over my head ever since then, and I thought perhaps that might finally put me in his good graces.”

Ash sighed irritably. “Does this job really mean so little to you that you would throw it away for a bottle of brandy?”

“No. It was stupid and I swear it will never happen again, my lord.”

“Do you know anything about a blackmail scheme Warwick is running?”

“Actually,” Fogg interjected, “it turns out it isn’t really a blackmail scheme.”

Ash waited for Fogg to explain, but he didn’t. “What is it then?” he finally asked.

“I thought you must have figured that out, since you said you have him locked up.”

Ash shook his head. Why was Fogg stalling? “Fogg?”

“You have to promise me you won’t kill him, Ash.”

“What has he done, Fogg? Does this have something to do with Gwen?”

Fogg nodded slowly, and that was all Ash needed. “I will kill him,” he growled as he turned for the door.

Before he even knew something was happening, Fogg somehow managed to tug him backwards, sweep his legs out from under him and push him into the empty chair. His hand was pressed firmly against Ash’s chest.

“I can’t let you kill him, Ash.”

Ash was stunned. Not by the fact that Fogg was physically able to do what he’d done, but by the fact that he had. What had gotten into him?

Fogg turned his head toward James. “If a word of any of what has just happened leaves this room, I will cut out your tongue and send it to your mother. Do you understand?”

The man choked, the color draining from his face. “I understand! I won’t say a word! I haven’t seen or heard anything.”

“Jesus, Fogg. What is wrong with you? You’ve scared the lad half to death. Now let me up because I am going to kill that bastard.”

“You’re not, Ash. I’m sorry. He is going to be arrested for what he’s done, but if you kill him, it will be you they are arresting, instead. And if you’re in prison or hanged, I’m out of a job, so I’m afraid you’re going to stay in that chair until you promise not to kill him.” He shrugged and lazily swung Ash’s cane back and forth at his side.

“I’m not making any promises, Fogg. If he did something to hurt Gwen—” Anger throbbed inside his veins.

“He did,” Fogg said quietly. “And if the circumstances were different, you know I’d take care of the body when you were finished, but that just can’t happen this time.”

“Why not?” Ash raged.

“Because he was already being investigated. This is bigger than just Gwen.”

“ Just Gwen?” His voice trembled as fury and heartache warred within his chest.

“That’s not what I meant, Ash. Warwick and his brother and a couple of other men have been providing fake marriages for a price, and they’ve been doing it for years.”

Ash turned his gaze on James. “Did you know anything about that?”

“No, my lord. I would never participate in something so wretched.”

“I think perhaps one of my tenants is involved, as well. I saw Warwick and him arguing this morning.”

“We’ll certainly look into him then,” Fogg assured him. “Now, if you didn’t know about any of this, why is he locked up somewhere in your house?”

“I walked in on him… with a maid.”

“Oh.” Fogg cringed slightly. “So when you say he’s locked up, it isn’t without some injuries.”

“Only a black eye and some broken ribs. Now I wish I’d killed him then and there. I had no idea my loyal servant was going to turn on me.” He glowered at Fogg.

“I know, Ash. I am sorry. I didn’t hurt your leg, did I?”

“Just promise me you won’t stop me from killing the man who actually abused her.”

“I’ll gladly hold him upright until you beat his last breath out of him.”

Ash looked over at James. “I bet this wasn’t how you thought your day was going to go when you put that livery on this morning, was it?”

James shook his head. “But I can promise that I’ll never do anything to put myself on the wrong side of you again.”

Ash threw back his head and roared with laughter. And then, using the distraction to his advantage, he surged to his feet, wrapped an arm around Fogg’s middle and hurled him into the chair, retrieving his cane in the process. He pressed the end of it roughly into Fogg’s chest.

“Don’t you ever do something like that to me again.” He drew the words out slowly for emphasis. “You seem to have forgotten, Fogg, I didn't build my humble empire by being weak. Or complacent. Or nice.”

Fogg held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ash. I may have overstepped.”

“There’s no may about it, Fogg. Except that you may be out of a job.”

Fogg grunted as Ash shoved the cane against his chest before he turned and left the room.

Ash fumed as he mounted his horse, cursing his sore leg. He wanted to have a conversation with the young tenant before anyone had a chance to stop him. When he arrived, he didn’t knock or announce himself in any way, he just stormed straight into the house. The man whipped around, dropping the saucepan he was carrying, which landed with a loud clang, and porridge splattered across the floor.

Panic flashed over the man’s face and he shuffled backwards as Ash charged toward him. Ash grabbed the front of the man’s shirt in his fist and slammed him against the nearest wall. A high-pitched scream pierced through the room.

“Please don’t hurt my brother.” Her small, scared voice wrapped itself around Ash’s heart. In his anger, he’d forgotten all about her.

The man he had pinned against the wall swallowed and spoke softly. “Please not in front of her. I swear I won’t try to run.”

Ash wasn’t in the business of terrorizing children. He let go of the man’s shirt, then turned and crouched before the little girl. “I’m sorry, Poppet. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just need to have a word with your brother. You stay here where it’s warm, and we’ll be just outside.”

“You promise you won’t hurt him?” The girl’s wide, innocent eyes could force a promise out of even the meanest thug.

“I promise.” With a sigh, he stood and walked out the front door. He heard the man give the girl some reassurance before he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“Thank you,” he said. “And thank you for trying to put her at ease.”

Ash grunted. “I’m not a complete monster.” The look in the man’s eyes said he wasn’t so sure about that.

“Do you know who I am?” Ash asked the question in earnest, not pompously trying to put the man in his place.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Well then, you have me at a disadvantage, because I don’t know who you are.”

“Trent Gibson.”

“And do you know why I’m here, Trent?”

Trent mulled it over for a moment before answering. “I have a guess.”

“I’ll make it easy for you. What is your role in the fake marriage scheme?”

The man blanched. “The what?”

“Don’t,” Ash warned. “I’d really like to keep that promise I made to your sister.”

Trent shook his head frantically. “I don’t know anything about any fake marriages. I swear.”

He seemed genuinely confused about the accusation, but that didn’t make sense. “Then why is it you think I’m here?”

He seemed to be debating what he should say.

“Trent, you might as well just be honest while you have a free pass. I promised your sister I wouldn’t hurt you, and believe it or not, I am a man of my word.”

He gave a resigned shrug. “I assumed you were here to confront me about the robbery.”

Ash was beginning to feel like he’d stepped into some sort of pantomime. How did things just continue to surprise him? How the hell was this man involved with the robbery at his club in London? Fogg had tracked down the only man who had gotten away, and this certainly wasn’t him.

“What part did you have in the robbery?”

Trent furrowed his brow. He looked almost offended by the question. “I didn’t play a part in it. I was the one who made it happen. Apparently, I chose the wrong people for the job, though, since they didn’t actually succeed.”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference. No one tries to rob my club and walks away. But why did you do it? Did you need money so badly?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to take something from you, to hurt you.”

“Well, you got what you wanted, then.” Ash’s voice was escalating. “They bloody shot me! This goddamn leg still hurts!”

“I had heard that, and I'm sorry. They weren’t supposed to do that. No one was supposed to get hurt. Not like that.”

“So why did you want to hurt me? What did I do to you?”

“Your father gave you everything.” Trent was shouting now, emotion making his voice quiver slightly. “Your whole life was just handed to you on a silver platter. The title, the estate, that club where you live a life of excess surrounded by extravagance and whores. He could have at least left my mother something when he died.”

Ash had wondered when one of his father’s inevitable bastards would eventually show up. He was surprised Trent was the first, honestly.

“All my mother ever wanted was for him to recognize me as his son. Instead, he left us to rot.”

Ash laughed cynically as he removed his coat. “Do you want to know what it looks like to be recognized by our father?” He stripped off the rest of his clothing above the waist, the icy breeze biting his skin as he turned around.

Trent gasped at the sight of his mangled back. Ash simply stood, allowing him time to take in every last scar. “You think my life was so easy?” He slid his arms back into his shirt and began closing the buttons. “Well, I think you had a lucky escape, and so did your mother. Our beast of a father beat mine to death.” He closed his waistcoat and settled his coat back onto his shoulders. “And my brother, the one who was supposed to inherit all of this, hanged himself to get away from our father. Do you still wish he had recognized you as his son?”

Trent’s mouth was agape, and he was clearly at a loss for words so Ash continued. “As for my life of excess— first of all, if you ever again refer to the women who work for me as whores, I will break your jaw.” He leaned in, his face barely an inch from Trent’s. “Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Trent said quietly.

“Most of those women were on the streets before they found their way to me. I give them money, a roof over their head, and skills they can use to have a better life. They dance in my club, fully clothed, and no one is allowed to lay a finger on them. Especially, me.” Ash pointed at his own chest. “So what you see as a life of excess, is at least partly, a life of penitence. My attempt to make up for a small fraction of the evil our father, and I, bestowed upon the world.”

Trent seemed to shrink right before Ash’s eyes. A sadness settled on his features, and perhaps guilt? He was also beginning to tremble from the cold. He hadn’t put on a coat before coming outside.

“I’m truly sorry, my lord. I had no idea.” He looked into Ash’s eyes. “Did he really do all of that?” He gestured toward Ash’s back.

Ash let out a long sigh. What the hell was he going to do with this man… who was apparently his half-brother? He didn’t seem to be the villain Ash had imagined him to be when he’d set out to confront him. Just a man who was angry and hurting. And rightly so.

“Why don’t we finish this conversation inside where it’s warm?”

Trent shook his head. “I don’t want Maggie to hear about the things I’ve done.” A sad smile twitched on his lips. “She believes I’m a good man. Thinks I hang the stars in the sky.” He waved a hand across the sky.

“You still can be, you know.”

“Says the man who was shot because of me.”

Ash waved that away. “Yes, well. I wish you had just come to me, but I think I understand why you didn’t. I’m sorry for what he did to you and your mother, Trent. But I’m not sorry you never knew him.”

“Perhaps I’m not either, now that I know. Not that I had much of a chance. I was only three when he died, apparently. My mother always told me stories, though, about my father who was the earl of a grand estate.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Just tonight I have a villain locked up in my house waiting to be arrested, a maid who he”—Ash paused and swallowed down the rage that rose in his throat—“will never touch again, that I need to make sure is taken care of, an entire household of women who may have also been abused by him, some kind of fake marriage scheme that involved someone I failed at protecting, a disloyal footman locked in my bedchamber, the woman I failed to protect once, and have to figure out how to be more successful with this time around, an estate that no longer has a manager, and apparently, a half-brother I never knew existed.”

Trent blinked. “Jesus.”

Suddenly, laughter surged out of him. What else could he possibly do? Eventually, Trent began to laugh as well. None of it was funny, but the sheer amount of chaos was utterly preposterous and seemed to have knocked his senses loose.

“I know this is probably a stupid question,” Trent said after a moment, “but is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can tell me anything you know about Warwick. I saw you arguing with him this morning, so the two of you obviously have some kind of connection.”

“We were arguing about you, actually. He’s upset because he believes you came here because of my failed robbery. But he doesn’t like me, regardless. I’ve been kind of blackmailing him. Basically, he would report repairs as more serious than they were. I would do the work, and he would pay me more than it was worth.”

Ash nodded. “That makes sense. That was the original reason I came here. The books had been getting more and more suspicious over the past year.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. I don’t have the money to pay you back, but I’ll work it off any way I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you won’t.” Ash didn’t care about the money. At least, not now that he was beginning to understand the reasons behind the theft. Trent undoubtedly needed it to take care of his sister. He hadn’t been making her porridge for supper because it was her favorite. He was barely getting by. “But I don’t understand. How were you blackmailing Warwick if you didn’t know about the fake marriages?”

Trent shrugged. “It started as just a bluff, really. I saw how he carried himself around this estate, how he treated people. I know his type. There was no way he wasn’t stealing from you one way or another. So I just said I had proof of his wrongdoing and threatened to send it to you if he didn’t agree to my demands. In addition to the repairs, he also told me about your club.”

Trent was clever and resourceful, and seemed to want to be good when it came down to it. There was certainly no doubt he loved his sister.

“Thank you for your honesty, Trent. Come and see me tomorrow. We have more to discuss, but you’re freezing, and I have a veritable circus that I need to get back to.”

Ash reached into his pocket, pulled a handful of bank notes out of his clip, and pressed the folded paper into Trent’s palm.

His eyes grew wide. “My lord, I can’t take this.”

“It’s Ash, and I’m not giving you a choice. I’d like to come in and have a quick word with Maggie before I leave, if you’ll allow it.”

He hesitated a moment, his eyes trying to read Ash’s intentions.

“I won’t do anything to hurt her, Trent.”

He nodded and opened the door. Maggie looked her brother over from head to toe. “You kept your promise?” she asked shyly.

“Of course I did.” Ash crouched down again. “I always keep my promises.”

“Maggie, this is Lord?—”

“Tsst.” Ash cut him off before he could finish. “I’m Uncle Ash. It’s nice to meet you, Maggie.” Not a chance in Hades was he going to have this sweet, innocent girl calling him Lord Ashdown.

She looked to her brother, unsure of what to make of Ash. Trent nodded and Ash was quite sure he brushed a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Your brother is going to take you into the village for some sweets tomorrow.”

“He is?” Her face split with a wide grin and she danced in a little circle.

Ash nodded. “And if you’re good, he might even get you something special like a toy or a new dress.”

Her mouth fell open as she gazed up at her brother, completely in awe of him. Somehow, this little girl he hadn’t even known existed yesterday had just charmed her way right into his heart. The dark, ambitious, scowling, sinister, club-owning, fear-inspiring ruler of Raven Row, had been brought low by a slip of a girl with chestnut curls that bounced when she danced and a smile that could light up the darkest of nights. Ash would do whatever he could to make sure that her brother… his brother… could always be exactly the man she believed him to be right now, in this magical moment.

Ash pushed himself up with his cane and walked with Trent to the door. “I don’t know how to thank you, my l… Ash.”

“You can thank me by bringing her with you when you come up to the house tomorrow, so she can show me her special treats.”

“You’re going to spoil her. We can’t usually afford sweets and things.”

“You can now, and of course I’m going to spoil her. That’s what uncles are supposed to do, isn’t it?”

Ash could see Trent struggling with accepting kindness from him. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Rest easy tonight.”

Ash knew the look that filled Trent’s eyes. It was the look of someone who’d just had their whole view of the world turned on its head. He’d obviously only ever been able to trust himself, and therefore, didn’t trust any of this yet. But he would, in time.

“Wish me luck!” Ash called as he climbed into the saddle. Despite the chaos he was riding back to, his heart felt lighter than it had since he arrived.