She started to straighten, then froze when a familiar voice rang out.
“Ah. Mr. Jasper. Grogan is not with you?” It was that irritating Lord Vane. What on earth was he doing here?
“No, milord. He sent me to fetch the cart and tools. I expect him any minute.”
“I see.” There was a speculative note to Vane’s words. “As it happens, I’ve been meaning to have a private word with you. Between you and me, I’m thinking of making some changes around here, once we’re safely away from the island and the fallout from Grogan’s unfortunate choices.
“I put him in charge,” Vane went on, clearly warming to his topic. “Paid him extra to oversee certain things—like enlist reliable, local help. And what does he do? Hires a guide from the mainland whose greed was only surpassed by his idiocy. WhatwasGrogan thinking allowing Mr. Blackwell to lead the blasted woman to the island for the sole purpose of robbing her in the midst of a blizzard?”
“I believe they thought to scare her from the island, sir. You’d made no bones about the fact you wanted the viscount to return to London. Grogan said you wouldn’t be pleased if Lord Randall settled in with a ladyfriend.”
Lady friend? What on earth? But Vane was talking again.
“So Grogan asserted,” he said, bitterness in every word. “A convenient excuse for making some extra ready on the side, is my take. It was foolhardy, and the first of many such foolhardy moves initiated by Grogan.”
So Sterling had been right. The guidehadcolluded with the robbers. But…what were these men to Vane?
“First, the three of you attempt to rob the woman. I had to ride out to the castle the following day in the midst of the gale to ascertain she’d even survived. At the time I thought the worst that could happen was that she’d be found with her neck broken and draw the interest of the authorities and Randall.
“But, no. It got worse. That imbecile guide—the one Grogan assured me could be trusted to help move the merchandise—decides to murder Randall’s whore’s companion instead of cutting her in. Not that I fault that decision—a conniving wench like that could have led the authorities back here. But he dumped her body in such a way that it washed up on shore.”
“That was unfortunate,” Mr. Jasper agreed.
“Unfortunate? Try inept, the extent of which is truly mind boggling.”
Annabelle did not know what offended her more. The fact that Lucy had tried to capitalize on what happened—and after she had compensated the maid for their little adventure,andfurnished her with a very fine gown. Lucy had, of course, paid with her life. Annabelle still felt terrible about that.
And then there was Lord Vane’s casual reference to her—her—as a whore. The audacity of the man. It was all she could do not to charge out of this shed and confront him for his insults.
But, then, despite his title, he was clearly no gentleman. Who knew what he was capable of doing?
“And after all that,” Vane went on, “When I charge Grogan with cleaning up his mess, what does he do? He stores the man’s body in an easily discovered area,should its owner happen to have a hound—which it did—and lo and behold, Blackwell’s body gets discovered months before it should.”
Mr. Blackwell’sbody? The guide was dead? A queasy feeling rolled through her. If she understood Vane’s inference, and she very much feared she did, this Grogan had been tasked with the job of murdering him—by Vane.
“With the magistrate once again investigating, it’s only a matter of time before Blackwell’s death is linked to Grogan, and eventually me.” Vane cursed. “The bottom line is this entire affair, commencing with the arrival of Randall’sguest,”he sneered, “has cost me countless time and resources, all of which can be laid directly at Grogan’s feet, not to mention Viscount Stoneford’s.” He spat, as if in emphasis.
“Lord Randall should have been nothing more than a temporary annoyance. Him, I could have waited out. He has to return to London eventually, and then I’d have unlimited access to this strip of shore and the kilns. Now that’s out of the question.”
Pounding horse hoofs revealed the approach of yet another rider. It was too much to hope Sterling had come looking for her.
“Finally, Mr. Grogan has decided to grace us with his presence. Well, then, Mr. Jasper?” Vane demanded. “What have you to say? Quick, man.”
A pause ensued. “I…er…see what you mean, sir?”
Vane gave a grunt of exasperation. “The point is, once we’re settled, I plan to regroup. Sell off some merchandise, repay my friends, and possibly expand. But I need help I can trust not to boggle things. Are you interested in a promotion? You, at least, appear able to follow instructions.”
“Aye, sir. But Grogan—”
“Leave him to me—and say nothing of this conversation.”
Seconds later, the sound of a horse reining in told her the newcomer, Mr. Grogan, had arrived.
She still had no clear idea what they were doing here. Vane had referenced merchandise. Had she been right along? Was Vane storing stolen stones inside the kilns?
Whatever their motivation, she had no intention of sticking around to find out. She sent up a fervent prayer the men did not enter the shed or check the stalls.
But if they did, she was a sitting duck.
