“Very little. It has been difficult to sort the lies from the truth. Will you tell me about it?”
Why did he push her? More importantly, where did his suspicions lie? She did a little evading of her own. “What is your part in this? How did my father know you were coming when you only purchased the land around the same time he ended his life?”
Suddenly it seemed he couldn’t face her as he applied gentle pressure to her elbow to get her walking again. He looked right around them as if worried they might be overheard from the shadows of the overgrowth they used to call a garden. “Deklin Montrose is my employer. I was sent here to make men like your father and my sire repay the monies they owe.”
“But I’ve not even heard of Montrose.” She breathed deep, tried to remain calm so her voice didn’t rise over the many and varied deceptions. “How could my father owe him money? How do I know you’re telling the truth now when you’ve already lied so much?” She was the worst kind of hypocrite talking of his lies but she had to inject just enough suspicion of his story so she could wait for Montrose to come to England to collect her. Nathanial would be duke by then and she wouldn’t have to go anywhere, be forced into anything. She could cry off and be no more damaged than she was now.
In her mind, she had it all figured out. She would find a nice farmer in need of a few coins and pay him for a faux marriage, collect her dowry, pay the man a small portion of it to keep quiet and then give the rest back to her brother. Once the estate was profitable, they would repay Montrose all they owed and perhaps more for his trouble. He might be angry, or he might see it as a blessing.
Who wanted to marry a spinster heaped in scandal for her dowry anyway?
“I never lied to you, Eliza. Not directly. Your father, along with Wickham and another man called Derbing, purchased a share in a ship that was to carry cargo from America to England and then sail on to China before returning to Boston. The goods—mainly fabrics—were sent and arrived in London but Montrose never received the rest of the payments from any of the men. Not one farthing for any of it. Now the ship and all hands seem to have disappeared without a trace. They never made it to China and they didn’t make it back to Boston either.”
“I don’t believe it. What would my father want with fabrics? He was a duke. He didn’t have to dabble in trade.” This part of the story, she hadn’t heard. She hoped her father was uncomfortable in hell.
“Oh, but he did.” They stopped once again and Darius motioned for her to sit on a low stone bench.
Eliza sat, letting the coldness seep through her petticoats to numb her to the soul. So much information, so much to wade through. It all sounded half-credible but her father was a duke. If society discovered he was doing more than investing, he would have been a laughingstock.
“Your father was already in very deep to a lot of men for his gambling, Eliza. Wickham and Derbing made terrible friends and worse companions. I wouldn’t be surprised if they talked him into it. Montrose tried to get them to pay. The gentlemen must have believed themselves immune to prosecution or financial obligation because they vehemently refused. Each man was sent word six months ago that we were coming to collect.”
“And if they couldn’t pay?” Her stomach pitched and she wondered if she would retch or simply faint. She had hoped the story she’d heard, second hand, had been grossly exaggerated by the circumstances it preceded.
“I was to report them to the law here but with no concrete proof other than a few signatures, there was little use.”
“So you threatened them?”
He met her gaze and was calm but for the twitch in his jaw. “I did no such thing. Not yet. Derbing had already won my grandfather’s house in a bad hand of cards so he repaid his debt with the deed and a small amount of gold. I hadn’t been able to locate Wickham until I saw him here but your father was next on my list.”
“But you were going to come into his home and threaten him weren’t you?”
He nodded, the gold in his eyes sparking fire. “You’re damn right I was. If the men had no intention of paying, they should never have invested. I should also like to know what happened to the ship and the hands on board. None have been heard from in more than fourteen months.”
Eliza stood and began to pace. Her thoughts were in chaos, her breaths shallow, her steps jerky, angry, frustrated, scared.
The information in the letter she’d so painstakingly forged had been new to him. Darius hadn’t known of her father’s intentions at all. The duke had lied when he’d told her sister that she was to be sold for the debt, not Eliza, not the disgraceful wanton with scandal hanging over her. She’d only written the letter to save Gabriella and gain them the time needed for Nathanial to turn another year older. She’d stupidly martyred herself for no good reason.
“I knew nothing about the states of their finances before I arrived here, Eliza.”
“Would it have made any difference?” she cried, furious that he tried to placate when she had every right to be angry. She sat and half-faced him on the stone. “If you wait a few months, we shall get your money for you.”
He shook
