Page 88 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
“Mrs. Townsend has a weakness for vingt-et-un.”
“And whist. Craps. The horse races.” Mr. Townsend snorted, shaking his head. “The woman would bet on whether the sun would rise in the morning if she thought someone would take it.”
Something resembling pity drifted to the surface of Charlotte’s conscience, but she ruthlessly drowned it. Roderick’s mother didn’t deserve her goodwill.
“So when her debts became greater than you could handle, I’m sure a trip to India, under the guise of visiting your son and his wife, seemed the perfect excuse to flee your creditors.” Finlay’s voice had dropped an octave. “And when you arrived in Bombay and found your son deathly ill, how long did it take you to start looking for his will?”
“Now see here,” Townsend said, drawing himself up and tugging on his waistcoat. “We were distraught to find Roderick so sick.”
“Reginald began searching through Roderick’s stuff the day we arrived,” Mrs. Townsend interjected, clutching a handkerchief to her face.
Townsend glared at his wife but didn’t dispute her claim.
“And that is why you sought Charlotte in London, is it not? Because once again, Mrs. Townsend’s debts were threatening to send you to debtors’ prison.”
“She remembered that we never recovered my great great grandmother’s ring from Roderick’s belongings.”
“That’s because Roderick’s belongings were not yours to claim.”
“The ring was valuable. Priceless even.” Mrs. Townsend sniffed. “Been in the family for generations. That alone should have been reason enough for her to return it.”
“But I had been part of the family, too,” she whispered.
Mrs. Townsend dismissed this with a snort.
“Did you try searching for the ring while you were still in Bombay?”
“Of course we did,” the older woman snapped. “But it was near impossible in that horrid place. So many thieves and cutthroats. Savages. The lot of them.”
Finlay appeared unmoved by the woman’s sentiments as he stared at her. “I find it odd you claim not to have been able to find the ring. See, Roderick had the ring catalogued in his will, providing a detailed description and appraisal. Armed with this information, my man visited various jewelers and pawnshops in London. And isn’t it an odd coincidence he found a ring matching the description at a shop within a ten-minute hackney ride of your home?”
Unfurling his fist, he revealed a delicate gold ring. The sight of it was like a vise had snatched her lungs and squeezed them tight. With a trembling hand, she allowed him to place it on her palm. She studied it, each detail a bittersweet jab at her memory.
“Is it the ring, Charlotte?” Lady Flora asked.
She could only manage a nod in response.
“The shopkeeper said a woman matching your description, Mrs. Townsend, had come in not a fortnight past and sold it.” Finlay tapped his chin. “Another odd coincidence, don’t you think?”
Mr. Townsend rotated to look at his wife, his eyes large. The woman stared at the ground, unwilling to meet his gaze.
Lord Inverray cleared his throat. “Townsend, it would appear your wife located the ring in Bombay, after all, and has had it in her possession this entire time.”
“At least until she recently sold it.” The duke squinted his eyes. “I’m not certain one can accuse another of theft when nothing has been stolen. What say you, Townsend?”
The older man said nothing, a sickly green pallor coloring his skin.
“I quite agree, Darington. I assume the amount she received for the ring was put toward another silly wager. But with her debts closing in around you, you then came up with a new scheme to extort money from Mrs. Taylor.” Finlay’s eyes shot green fire. “Did I get that right?”
“The debtorsarestarting to circle.” Mr. Townsend tugged on his cravat, panic leaching his skin of color. “I was desperate! And then I saw her at Campbell House and had to act.”
“Well, your debts have been sold.” Finlay’s triumphant smile was disarming. “To me.”
A deafening silence descended on the room. Charlotte was certain her jaw had unhinged. And a strange fire roared in her chest, and tears filled her eyes. She suspected it was love.
For her.
He had done it for her. Even though she had threatened to reveal his darkest, most scandalous secret, he had defended her. There was no other reason for Finlay to have bought the Townsends’ debt. The cynical side of her reasoned he could have done it to ensure his political future. But he turned to her then, his gaze gentle.
