Page 58 of A Stranger’s Kiss

“Whatever shall I do?” Deborah sobbed, her voice hysterical. She squeezed Olivia’s hands tightly. “Blackmailed. I am being blackmailed.”

“Blackmailed?” Olivia repeated, stunned. “Who?”

“I do not know,” Deborah wailed.

She threw herself into Olivia’s arms and burst into tears.

The piano in the parlor paused.

Olivia drew a breath. She couldn’t have her father upset. Taking Deborah by the arm, she guided her into the kitchen. They’d just stepped inside when the piano resumed. Olivia closed her eyes in relief. At least one crisis averted.

“What shall I do?” Deborah choked.

“Blackmailed? How?” Nicholas asked.

Olivia looked up. He’d followed them into the kitchen, his lean jaw tight and his eyes narrowed.

“The letter.” Deborah wiped her face and turned to Nicholas. “Whoever it is, they have the letter.”

The letter. Olivia winced. The accursed letter. Then, this was her fault, caused by her carelessness. The letter might have been sitting there for the week—who knew who could have taken it? “Forgive me, Deborah—”

“Oh, Olivia, who am I to judge another so harshly? How could it be your fault? It’s my own. I am the one who ruined myself.” Deborah burst into fresh sobs.

Nicholas reached over to grasp her shoulders and give them a little shake. “Now is the time to fight back, Deborah. Compose yourself, my dear. Tell me, what are the demands?”

After several attempts, Deborah managed to answer in a tremulous voice, “A letter. I received a letter, yesterday morning, and in it was the first page of my own handwriting. The letter claimed I had receive the rest of the pages if I left my mother’s jewelry at the church.” She choked, and added in a whisper, “I did. I took the jewelry there last night, just as I was told. This morning, I only got a single page of mine in return, along with a new demand, for more.”

“Of course,” Nicholas murmured. “You should have come to me first.”

“How could I?” Deborah wept. “I was so ashamed.”

She looked so lost, forlorn, that tears threatened Olivia’s own eyes. “It’s my fault,” she repeated, hoarsely.

Neither Nicholas nor Deborah seemed to hear.

“May I see the demand, Deborah?” Nicholas asked. “Did you bring it?”

Deborah nodded and pulled at her reticule strings with shaking fingers. At last, she drew out a sheet of paper. “Two thousand pounds. In four days. They want me to bring two thousand pounds to the cemetery. Delivered by my own hand and no one else’s.”

Olivia simply stared. Two thousand pounds?

Nicholas’s brows lifted in surprise.

“What shall I do?” Deborah whispered. “Grandfather will have to be told.”

Silently, Nicholas scanned the letter, then, at last, looked up. “We will set a trap for this fool.”

“How?” Deborah whispered faintly.

Nicholas folded the paper and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. “Such a demand is preposterous. You’ll leave him a letter in its place, demanding more time, arrange another meeting, what have you. It matters little. We’ll catch this blackmailer at the cemetery, in the act.”

A flash of hope crossed Deborah’s face, then her face fell again. “It matters little, in the end. Either way, I am ruined. There is no denying this.” She dropped her hand on her belly. “Soon, Grandfather will toss me onto the streets.”

“Nonsense,” Olivia objected. “He will do no such thing.”

“Nae, he will,” Deborah whispered.

“Then, you will come live with me,” Olivia replied stoutly. Of course, she may soon be on the streets herself, but she couldn’t think of that…not now.