Gabriel looked ready to beat it out of him. Instead he strode to the door. “Gentlemen, a word.” The three of them filed out.
“Mama,” Amanda whispered. “The one letter not written by you. Did Yarnell write it himself?”
Her mother nodded. Amanda got up and walked out of the chamber.
The three dukes were speaking in low tones on the landing but went silent while she passed. She entered her own chamber and dumped everything out of her valise until she found the stack of letters. She plucked out the only one not written by Mama.
She returned to Gabriel’s chamber, but handed him that letter while she passed on the landing. “Yarnell wrote this one to me, about delivering the buckle.” She then left them to whatever they debated.
* * *
Stratton read the letter and handed it back. “It is good that she saved this. It is all that supports Yarnell was behind it. Otherwise someone might accept it was all her mother, or even mother and daughter together.”
“I doubt it will convince a judge, unfortunately. Not to the point of choosing the word of an admitted thief over a gentry gentleman,” Brentworth said.
Gabriel tucked the letter into his coat. “She did not give it to us thinking it would convince a judge. She hoped to convince us.” He had watched Amanda’s expression while Yarnell denied his role. She had seen how clever this had been arranged, and how her mother and herself might be considered the only culprits.
“Then we are agreed, gentlemen,” he said. “To swear down information about this matter would probably lead to Yarnell’s exoneration.”
“Those itemswerestolen from him,” Stratton said. “It does not excuse having them stolen back, or what he had his cousin do with Mrs. Waverly. But all of that, the kidnapping, the coercion to involve her daughter—all of it, relies only on Mrs. Waverly’s word.”
They all knew the value of that.
“I say that we retrieve the stolen items and see they are returned to their owners. If Yarnell was robbed, he will have to prove it through legal means,” Brentworth said. “Stratton and I will return to his house with him for that purpose today.”
“He may not hand them over,” Gabriel said. “He is nothing if not bold.”
“He will hand them over. Do not doubt it,” Stratton said.
“Take the buckle and brooch back to London, then,” Gabriel said. “Once I return to town, we will decide how to make the returns.”
“I assume you would rather not knock on Nutley’s door and hand that buckle over,” Stratton said. “Brentworth and I will put our heads to it. There should be a way to be discreet.”
“Many ways,” Brentworth said. “We will also take care of Mrs. Waverly, if you want. We can stop at Southampton and see her onto a ship. Preferably one bound to an unfriendly nation. It seems unfair to inflict her on an ally.”
“I would be relieved if you did that,” Gabriel said. “I thought to send my footman Vincent on the task, but I don’t think he is experienced enough to recognize her inevitable blandishments for what they are. Before you leave Yarnell, make it clear we will be watching him and events in Devon. He has had a taste of easy money. He may decide to find another way to find more, and he has the mind for it.”
“We will collect him and his cousin now, and come back for the mother,” Brentworth said. “As for Miss Waverly—we leave her to you, Langford. It was a clear case of duress and even our antiquated criminal laws recognize that as mitigating, as you know. Whether a court will believe her, should it ever come to that, is questionable, unfortunately. Whether you as a duke and peer can or should overlook the expectation of legal process is something only you can decide.”
“You are also dukes,” Gabriel said.
“I would never question your honor, Langford. You know that. As for Stratton here, he has killed two men. The debate your conscience faces is a small one compared to that.”
Brentworth opened the chamber door and walked in. Stratton hesitated before following. He grasped Gabriel’s shoulder in a gesture of friendship and looked him in the eyes. “You know this woman as well as you know us. Better, if I am right on how it is between you. Don’t let honor make you an ass.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amanda strolled through the garden of Liningston Abbey. Gabriel had brought her back here after she’d parted from her mother in Colton.
She’d grown nostalgic during those last hours with Mama. They would probably never see each other again. There would be no more periodic letters for Mrs. Bootlescamp waiting for her at the print shop. She would not be in London to receive them even if one did come, from wherever Mama landed.
Mama had been relieved beyond words to be offered exile. Learning two dukes would escort her to the ship did much to make the prospect more appealing. Amanda pictured her, dining with Brentworth and Stratton, amusing them with stories of thieving derring-do. She made Mama promise not to try and seduce either one of them, but she may have heard a lie in reply. She trusted Mama had sized up both men the way a thief would, however, and knew Stratton would never succumb, and Brentworth would never set her free afterward.
It had been a lonely journey back to this house yesterday. Gabriel had not been with her in the carriage. He often rode ahead, galloping hard. He brooded over something. Their parting, perhaps. She could not escape the worry that what he had heard in that chamber had made him question his faith in her, however. Yarnell’s explanation of everything had been terribly plausible.
At least the stolen items were headed back to London. She would have something of herself back once they were returned. With time, in a new world, maybe Amanda the thief would disappear again.
They would leave for Liverpool in the morning. Gabriel had given her the choice to go with Mama to Naples. She had not wanted that, not at all. She would instead go to America, as she so often dreamed. She would leave her entire history behind this time.
