Page 106 of Too Scot to Handle
“Mr. Montague,” Anwen said, rising and leaning across the table. “The fate your sister faces for having committed a heinous crime is no worse than the fate you had planned for an innocent man. You are a disgrace and a scoundrel who deserves every bit as much condemnation as your sister.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Moreland added. “I might call you out after all.”
Moreland’s duchess would never forgive Colin if a duel ensued, and more to the point, Anwen would never forgive him if the orphanage was associated with a duel.
“I wish you wouldn’t, Your Grace,” Colin said. “We honestly can’t have the scandal, else I would be at Bow Street laying information against her ladyship right now.”
“Why aren’t you?” Montague asked. “If you can’t prove your accusations, you’ve no business making them.”
“Montague,” His Grace said, “you are a fool. One cannot repair such a lack with any amount of education, fine fashion, or training. Your father has my deepest pity.”
“I have proof,” Colin said. “I entered the Montague household and informed the porter I’d forgotten a pair of gloves abovestairs, which as it happens, I did. I was admitted to the premises without protest and invited to retrieve my gloves, and by inadvertence opened the wrong door. The very bag in which the cash had been taken from the Moreland townhouse to the orphanage sat on Lady Rosalyn’s escritoire. A cursory examination revealed the missing funds within.”
“You have witnesses?” His Grace asked.
Montague had gone as pale as nursery pudding.
“I asked Lord Rosecroft to drive me to the Montague townhouse, Your Grace. He saw me enter the premises without the funds, and exit with them in hand. I then asked him to join me and Lady Rosalyn inside, and he heard her confession with me, as did Lord Monthaven. Montague, your sister has a collection of fans, gloves, even some reticules that do not belong to her. Half of Mayfair’s debutantes have probably lost property to her, and they will not be kind should her misdeeds come to light.”
“My knitting needles,” Anwen said. “She took a pair of my knitting needles, and stashed them into one of those embroidered sacks she carries everywhere. She probably took Lady Dremel’s fan, Flora Stanbridge’s pearl gloves…”
“She steals?” Montague murmured. “My Rosalyn steals? But she’s…she’s a paragon, a diamond of the first water, an incomparable, the daughter of the Earl of Monthaven. She wouldn’t—”
“She steals from you,” Colin said. “All the vowels you’ve misplaced, the coins that you were sure you left on your vanity. She sneaks into your room, a thief in the night.”
“Sounds as if she’s a thief at all hours,” His Grace said, rising. “I trust, Lord Colin, that you will resolve this matter discreetly and within the requirements of justice. My duchess will want a full report. See Anwen home, please.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“I’ll just be getting back to my ledgers,” Hitchings said. “Lord Colin, my thanks. On my behalf and on behalf of the boys. My sincere, unending thanks.”
Hitchings left the door open, but Colin closed it behind him.
Montague kept to his seat, and even his lips had gone pale. “What are your intentions? My father will not take kindly to you putting yourself above the law, MacHugh.”
Colin leaned across the table as Anwen had. “That’s Lord Colin to you. I’ve consulted with those directly affected by Lady Rosalyn’s felonious behavior, and they advise me to do unto you as you were prepared to do to me.”
“You’ll see him hanged?” Anwen said, wrinkling her nose.
“I will give him a choice,” Colin said. “The same choice he claimed to be offering me. Escort your sister for an extended stay in Italy with your aunt, or be investigated for forging my signature on bills at the clubs—clubs that are suspending your membership indefinitely, because forgery is a felony. You broke the rules, Montague. The rules of human decency, the rules of law, and even the rules of your silly little clubs. The consequences won’t be silly at all, and the scandal, I can assure you, from both your bad behavior and your sister’s crimes, will be endless.”
“That’s what the boys said to do?” Anwen asked. “A vacation in Italy or ruin? They are being far too merciful, if you ask me.”
“The boys agreed that I should take one precaution.” They’d gone so far as to admit Colin’s suggestion was brilliant, for a mere beginner. “A distinctive pair of antique rings have been secreted at the Monthaven townhouse, one ring in Lady Rosalyn’s apartments, one in Montague’s. I will inform the authorities of the suspected whereabouts of these rings, if Montague should refuse the clemency the boys are showing him and Lady Rosalyn.
“They are gentlemen,” Colin went on, “and they show compassion to their inferiors. Have your sister on a ship for Rome by Tuesday, Montague, or prepare to face ruin, prosecution, and scandal. Now get out, and leave me some privacy with my intended.”
Montague rose and looked as if he wanted to say something to Anwen.
She pointed to the door. “You heard his lordship. Leave now, and stay permanently gone. I won’t be half so forgiving as the children whom you and she have wronged, or as Lord Colin is being.”
He bowed—quite low—and left without another word.
* * *
Anwen was in Colin’s arms without knowing how she got there. “I was so frightened, and so angry, and I’m so relieved.”
“I had some bad moments too,” Colin said, “but Montague is a problem solved. His father won’t leave him any choice. The earl admitted Lady Rosalyn had been stealing, and said it started when her mother died. This is the first time he’s known her to take anything of great value.”
