Page 91 of The Heir
“They are. Dr. Maton, from the medical household, is dead. He may have been poisoned—”
Ned folded his arms. “I know.”
“You . . . know?”
“And I know that whatever is in these letters, you do not want to be involved with it.” Ned’s voice and his expression were disconcertingly mild. Sympathetic even. “Go on, now, Jane.” Ned stepped aside to make a clear path for her. “I’m sure the princess is expecting you.”
But Jane remained where she was. “Why should you even care what I’m doing? You never have before.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then, to Jane’s surprise, her brother smiled. It was a tiny, bitter expression, and the sight of it made something twist inside her.
“You’re right,” he said. “After all, we’re all doing the same thing, aren’t we? Trying to work out some kind of life for ourselves. Only we all keep getting caught.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his rumpled coat. “You must believe me, Jane. I am protecting you.” He nudged the door open. “Go back to your princess, and if you find your way out of this house, I wish you Godspeed, and I swear I will not get in your way. All I ask is that you do the same for me.”
There was nothing she could do. Jane gathered up her skirts and strode out into the corridor. Ned pulled the door shut behind her.
Jane had thought she would just walk away. She should. She should go back to her rooms at once, finish her chocolate, get ready to go to the palace. She could come back later in the day, when the house was quiet and Ned was gone. Ned would surely return the packets to their drawer. He must be doing that right now.
Because what else could he still be doing in there?
Jane turned again and faced the door. She steeled her nerves and crouched down and put her eye to the keyhole.
There on the other side was Ned. He was behind Father’s desk. He pulled open a drawer and brought out a metal strongbox. He took something from his pocket. Another key? She couldn’t tell, but he struggled with the box, jiggering and shaking it, his mouth moving in silent curses.
At last, he threw the lid open and dipped his hand inside. He came up with a wad of what could only be banknotes and stuffed them into his pocket. He snapped the lid shut.
Jane straightened. She flew down the corridor and ducked into the empty morning room. Once inside, she held the door open just a crack so that she could see out. She held her breath, too, so that Ned wouldn’t hear her panting.
She needn’t have bothered. Ned strode past without turning his head and all but ran down the stairs. She heard the door below slam.
Ned was gone.
Ned had robbed Father.
Ned—their brother, Father’s heir, the young man who came and went as he chose, who flirted with and flattered Kensington society, who had been abroad in the army, on tour, at the consulate—had just stolen a handful of banknotes from their father.
Liza had said he’d taken her money, as well.
Whatever is in these letters, you do not want to be involved with it . . . I am protecting you.
She thought about him running through the streets, with the other man hard on his heels.
Jane had spent much of her life deliberately trying not to hear other people’s secrets, but she was still a denizen of the palace and the parlor. Everyone knew there were a thousand ways for clever, ambitious young men to be ruined.
Which of those ways had caught up with Ned?
Jane slipped out of the morning room and raced up the stairs. She needed coat and bonnet. She needed to be out the door before Father came downstairs and asked about her. She needed to make her way across town.
And if luck was with her, she would find Susan at home.
Chapter 40
The morning brought a gloomy, determined gray rain. And Jane was late. Victoria struggled through her lessons. What she wanted was to grab up her pencil box, where she had hidden Aunt Sophia’s letters, and run all the way to her aunt’s rooms so she could wave the pages in her startled face.
Look! Look at this! Why didn’t you tell me!
What was Dr. Maton to you? she would demand.Why were you so determined to get him more money?
She wanted to show the letters to Jane, to explain to her what she had found, to ask her opinions. She even wanted to tell her about the ghost.
