Stephen was aghast. “What of your brother? Where was he?”
Emily took a breath. “Daniel had gone to play faro. He brought home money that night. It was one of the few times he won.”
Stephen placed an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to grant her support, to let her know that he regretted what had happened. “You should not have had to face such a tragedy alone.”
“I was not alone. Daniel’s wife was with me. But she was pregnant and could not help.” A cynical expression formed. “I should have found a way to stop it from happening.”
“It wasn’t your fault. No one blames you.”
“No, but it is a convenient excuse for the ladies of thetonto keep me out of their drawing rooms. They know that this is what I came from, Stephen.“ She gestured toward the disheveled room. “This is who I am.”
“No. It was a tragedy, not a judgment of your character.”
She didn’t argue, as though it wasn’t worth the effort. He could see the disbelief in her eyes. Silks and fancy gowns would not conquer her vulnerability. He didn’t know if he could change that.
“Let us go into my brother’s study,” she suggested. “There might be some papers that could help you remember the night you were attacked.”
He followed her, stepping over a fallen table and broken glass. When they reached the study, ledgers lay everywhere, the room in shambles. Someone had searched thoroughly for something. Evidence, Stephen was certain. But what?
“He was here before us,” Emily guessed, trying to push a heavy desk upright. “The man who attacked me.”
Stephen assisted her and they picked up the fallen drawers. “I agree. But he may have overlooked something.”
They spent the next hour sorting through the papers and righting furniture. Stephen knew that the family had lost everything, but seeing the reality was much worse than he’d imagined. Only months ago, Emily had lived here with her brother and the children. He didn’t like to think of rats living here, much less his wife and family.
His family. The thought sobered him. He was responsible for their well-being and protection. Although Royce and Victoria were not of his blood, he was growing accustomed to them. And whether or not he retained guardianship, he made a personal vow never to let any of them suffer through this kind of existence again.
Stephen continued searching through the books when he spied a tin horse, just the size of the soldiers belonging to Royce. The horse was small enough to fit inside his palm, the brown paint nearly gone. Stephen tucked the toy inside his waistcoat pocket, planning to return it to Royce later.
“Look at this one,” Emily said, handing him a bound log. Stephen thumbed through the pages, stopping when he saw the name of one of his ships:The Lady Valiant. It was the same ship whose cargo profits had been stolen. But several pages of the log were missing.
“This was my ledger, not Daniel’s. I wrote these entries.” He frowned, wondering how Emily’s brother had come by the pages. “How do you think it ended up—” He stopped short when a dark-skinned Indian man entered, dressed in flowing robes of beige.
The man was not tall, but he moved with the grace of a tiger, swift and sure. A vision flashed through his mind. This man had raised a knife, delivering a vicious blow against someone…a shattering pain invaded Stephen’s body…and later he recalled the scent of healing herbs pressed against his wounds.
“Mem Sahib,” he greeted Emily. A strange expression crossed the Indian’s face when Stephen was about to introduce himself.
“It is good to see you, Anant.” Emily took the man’s hands in her own. “You look well.”
The Indian returned her smile, and he seemed like an older brother, protective of Emily. He bowed to Stephen, his eyes discerning. “Sahib, I see you have recovered from your injuries.”
From the way the Indian noted the healing, Stephen ventured his prediction. “You were there the night I was attacked.”
“I was.” Regret shadowed his face. “To my sorrow, I arrived too late to save Lord Hollingford’s life. But yours—” He broke off, his gaze flickering toward Emily before he shielded the thoughts.
“What happened to me after the attack?”
The Indian glanced at Emily again. “While I fought your attackers, you escaped…elsewhere, Sahib.”
“Where?”
After a long moment of hesitation, the Indian admitted, “I do not know.”
A vision flashed through Stephen’s mind, of staggering through the streets, blood drenching his shirt. “Why were they trying to kill me? Were they Daniel’s creditors?”
Anant shook his head slowly. “They wanted the profits from your ship,The Lady Valiant.“ A dark undercurrent cloaked the servant’s words, almost as though he resented the loss. “I overheard them arguing about it. They were trying to locate the missing funds and thought that Lord Hollingford knew where they were.”
Emily rubbed her arms and shivered. “Daniel would never steal anything. Why would they suspect him?”
