Heart thudding, Charity called Freddy and hurried back inside, faltering briefly at the sound of raised voices coming from the small sitting room. Then, shaking her head, she continued on into the drawing room where her father and Percy had finally succumbed to the lure of ham and pickles.
‘I think I may have found something,’ she commented breathlessly, brandishing the paper.
Picking up one of the candles, she positioned it next to her chair. After a few seconds she looked up. ‘It’s a confession.’
∞∞∞
Morgan Carlyon did not survive the night. Jago had not been surprised.
They’d removed the trunk containing Stefan Petrock’s body, but Morgan had showed no emotion. He’d simply allowed himself to be put to bed like a child. The next morning he was gone.
To Jago’s astonishment, Charity, her father and Percy had been able to fill in the missing pieces of the story, and the sympathy in Charity’s eyes as she handed him Stefan’s letters and confession made him want to howl.
Morgan Carlyon had used Stefan’s love for Genevieve to persuade the young man to go along with his schemes, declaring the coin made from their illegal activities would provide Genevieve with the lifestyle she’d been accustomed to and promising their union would receive his blessing on her return.
At first, things went according to plan, but their luck ran out as Captain Johnson of theEndeavourdiscovered who was behind the spate of runs on goods arriving in Falmouth from the far east. As a long-standing friend, Johnson had given Morgan the benefit of the doubt when he’d claimed to know nothing, blaming the whole scheme on Stefan. But it was only a matter of time before he discovered the truth.
Morgan Carlyon blackmailed his daughter’s lover into getting rid of the threat. Unfortunately, neither had suspected that their smuggler associates would not stop with the death of one man when they had the chance to remove all witnesses.
Neither did they know that Genevieve would be one of them.
According to Stefan, terrified that Jago would begin to suspect, Morgan blamed the murders on the infamous Jack and encouraged his son on a wild goose chase. But clearly, he’d reckoned without Stefan’s conscience.
They would never know exactly how Stefan died. The body was too far decayed to tell. Indeed, all they really knew for certain was that Morgan Carlyon suffered the apoplexy almost immediately after, confining him to his bed, at least for a few months.
Did he hide the fact that he’d regained the use of his legs to give him an alibi should Stefan’s body ever be discovered?
Had Stefan admitted to writing a confession before breathing his last? Was that what Morgan had been looking for?
It seemed certain that Stefan had written his admission of guilt down on paper as a last resort. But whether it was from fear or remorse, only a dead man could tell them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
.
George Barnet’s body was hung in gruesome fashion on the harbour wall at Falmouth as a warning to other free traders, though whether it had the intended effect was debatable, especially as by the middle of April, Napoleon had indeed abdicated, and the war in Europe was finally over, making goods from France even more readily available.
Nevertheless, his demise meant that the Reverend, Percy and Charity were finally free to return home.
They had been in Tredennick barely a week, but to Charity it felt like almost a lifetime. So much had changed since they’d left Blackmore less than a sennight ago.
Indeed, sitting in the new Master of Tredennick’s carriage, she felt as though she was leaving part of herself behind, and though she looked forward to seeing Blackmore and her family again, she already knew that her heart belonged in Cornwall with the man she had so unexpectedly fallen in love with.
Heedless of onlookers, Jago had held her to him as though he could not bear to let her go, and even as she revelled in thestrength of his arms, Charity realised he was actually afraid. Afraid that once she was home, she would not wish to return. That in letting her go, he was losing her forever.
Leaning back to look up at him, Charity touched his cheek with her fingers and smiled through her tears. ‘A mere three months,’ she whispered. ‘It will pass in the blink of an eye.’
‘It will feel like a lifetime.’ She almost laughed at his frustrated whisper and shook her head.
‘You have much to do, Mr Carlyon if you wish to ready our home for my return. Once I’m your wife, you will undoubtedly have other things on your mind.’ She watched the gold in his eyes darken at her hint and chuckled.
‘This will be the first and last time you leave me,’ Jago growled, bending his head for one last kiss. Charity simply nodded and smiled.
‘I love you, Jago Carlyon,’ she murmured.
His answer was to kiss her again, suddenly desperate to keep her with him at any cost.
‘Well, much as I don’t wish to put a rub in the way of true love,’ her father commented sourly from inside the coach, ‘but at this rate, I’m going to need the privy again before we get to the bottom of the deuced drive.’
