He shrugged and nodded toward the people scurrying back and forth with the buckets. “Everyone is here. Only her maid can tell you where she is and it’s her day off.”
Clem resisted the desire to curse. Mary could still be in the house, unaware of the danger nearby. With her hearing, she might not even be aware of the shouting. Clem debated staying and helping with the blaze for only a moment. First, she needed to ensure Mary and the dogs were safe. “See if you can get some help from the house next door once the horses are settled. They’ll have sand and more men,” she ordered.
She didn’t wait for him to agree before dashing back into the house. She shoved through the doors, past the few remaining paintings, and toward Mary’s favored drawing room. She couldn’t hear any dogs barking. Skirts in hand, she hastened down the corridor, back to the entranceway and started up the stairs.
“Stop there.”
She came to a halt midway up the stairs and twisted slowly at the barked order from a voice she did not recognize. Brow furrowed, she eyed the man who took several strides toward her until he stood upon the step beneath her. Her heart gave a little uncomfortable pulse as she took in his appearance.
His clothing was excellent and unremarkable, his looks were polished but indistinctive. At least, until she took a closer look. What made her breath catch in her throat was his similarity to a portrait hanging in that very hallway.
“You are Mr. Jones’s son.” She gasped the statement. She’d never met any of Mary’s stepchildren, but it seemed so obvious now.
Mary was not mad. She hadn’t seen her husband sneaking about the house…but his son.
Eyes wide, she looked him up and down. Shoulders tight, one hand tightly clenched about something, his jaw set stiffly, he made her want to flee. However, he blocked the only escape.
“You wanted the letter,” she stated.
“Indeed,” Mr. Jones said. “And I know you have it.”
She opened her mouth then shut it. A chill spread through her. Had he been watching her and Lily? How much had he seen?
“I saw you return from somewhere with the letter. How you figured out where it was, I do not know.” He smirked and shook his head. “You are an odd little woman, are you not? Running about, trying to find letters.”
She scowled. “You were doing exactly the same.” Lifting her chin, she met his amused gaze. “Except you could not figure out where the letter was, could you?”
Mr. Jones lifted his shoulders. “I heard my father talking about the thing with my stepmother many, many years ago. Of course, I was but a boy, so I did not note the significance of it at the time.”
“And now? What possible need for the letter could you have?”
His grin widened. “Isn’t it obvious? It will be worth an absolute fortune, either to a collector or to, well, my stepcousin.”
Clem inhaled sharply. “You wish to blackmail him?”
“I know how Roman feels about his family’s history. I’m certain he would wish to keep people from remembering quite how scandalous his family was.”
Any lingering warmth from her dash about the house drained from her. What an awful man this was.
“Well, you cannot have the letter. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Nor does it belong to you, Lady Clementine.”
“I’m not going to just hand it over so you can harm Roman.”
The arrogant smirk flitted over his lips again and her stomach twisted. He moved forward and she took a step up. She spied nothing but cold greed in his pale blue eyes and whatever the reason behind him wanting riches, she did not doubt he would do whatever he must to get the letter. After all, he’d been the one to hit the poor man guarding the house.
Her fears were confirmed when he lifted his clenched hand, revealing a knife. Her throat tightened, her pulse kicking in so hard it made her head swirl. She twisted and dashed up the stairs. If only she wasn’t wearing a silly, useless gown. His footsteps echoed hers. He was going to catch her.
Mr. Jones grabbed her arm as she reached the top step. He pulled her roughly against his body. His hold on her pinched so tightly her arm tingled.
“Get in there,” he ordered, swinging a look up and down the empty corridor and gesturing to the bedroom. “And then you can tell me exactly where the letter is.”
She thought of Roman and how devastated he would be to have the letter in this man’s hands. She might not want it destroyed but she could not let it destroy Roman either.
“I won’t tell you,” she vowed.
His mouth stretched wide, revealing even teeth in a smile that made her skin prickle. He gestured with the knife, bringing it so close to her nose that she jolted back and made contact with the door to the bedroom.