Page 28 of More than Tempted

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Arrogance replaced the flicker of fear in the miscreant’s eyes. “You should release me, St Clair, else my loose tongue might get the better of me at dinner tonight. I might explain how we’re closely related.”

Nicholas wrapped his fingers around Holland’s throat. “I want all the evidence you have regarding my mother. I want it delivered to me in Upper Seymour Street.” He squeezed until Holland’s cheeks turned claret. “Don’t make me rip out your tongue. Don’t force me to silence you for good.”

In a panic, Holland thumped Nicholas’ hand.

His choked words were inaudible.

“If you want to live, you have seven days to deliver the documents.” He released his grip before he killed the man. “Do you hear me? Seven days, else there’ll be the devil to pay.”

Holland gasped for breath. “Is this a d-damn joke?”

The comment only fuelled his anger. “What, you think I find blackmail amusing? I’m a man pushed to the brink of his sanity. You paid someone to run my damn carriage off the road. I might have been killed.”

He could say no more without compromising Helen.

“What?” Holland blinked rapidly. “No!”

“Perhaps that’s your real motive,” Nicholas spat. “Me dead, so you can claim the money I inherited from my mother.”

“Our mother,” Holland countered.

Nicholas punched the man. “Liar!” Needing to put some distance between them before he did something foolish, he stood and brushed straw from his coat. “If I hear one rumour about my mother, hear the merest hint of a scandal, I shall finish what I’ve started.”

It took Charles Holland a moment to gather his wits. He scrambled to his feet and gripped the wooden stall for balance. “Why would I run your carriage off the road when I need you to pay the damn demand?” He shook his head. “Why would you ask for all the documents when you broke into my home and stole Mother’s love letters?”

Nicholas froze.

His heart missed a beat.

“That’s why I came to Grayswood Folly. To tell you I have other letters. Our parents wrote to each other for years.” Holland took an unsteady step forward. “But I shall give you everything if you agree to embrace me as your brother. I shall keep our secret if you befriend me, help to settle my debts.”

It was a trick to bide time.

A ploy to gain his sympathy.

“Had you offered friendship in the beginning, instead of making my life a misery, I might be open to negotiation.” He kept the inner panic from his voice. “I didn’t steal the letters. Either you’re lying, which based on your deceitful nature would be my logical guess, or someone else stole them. I’m sure you’ll agree, the last option is doubtful considering we’re the only people who know they exist.”

The fool’s eyes darted about in their sockets. “We’re not the only ones.” As if expecting another punch, he cowered behind his raised hands.

“You told someone!” Nicholas exclaimed.

“No, but the housekeeper at Oakmere Hall worked as my mother’s lady’s maid all those years ago and knows the truth. She was sworn to secrecy and never breathed a word until my father died and left me the box full of documents.”

“Of what use would love letters be to your housekeeper?” This man was a bumbling idiot. They couldn’t possibly be kin. “If you are telling the truth, why didn’t the thief steal all the documents?”

“Because they were the only ones locked in my desk drawer.” Holland brushed thin strands of hair over his bald pate. “I feared you might take matters into your own hands and seek to destroy the evidence of our parents’ duplicity. I never keep the documents together in one place.”

While Holland was the last man he wanted to converse with, they had a common interest in finding the thief.

“So, the thief stole the letters from Oakmere Hall?” Nicholas attempted to clarify. “And no one else knows but your housekeeper?”

“No, he stole them from my lodgings in Wigmore Street. And I fear my housekeeper has told my valet. I found the man standing on a chair, searching the top of the armoire.”

And Nicholas had thought matters couldn’t get any worse.

“I’m told you brought your valet to Grayswood.” All the servants were complaining about the pompous Frenchman. “Perhaps I should drag the truth from his lips, see who else he has told.”

Holland sighed. “I shall deal with Laurent. Though I have tried to dismiss him twice this past week and he refuses to leave. If I have no luck gaining a confession, you may question him tomorrow.”


Tags: Adele Clee Romance