Page 24 of Scoundrel for Sale
But Abbie knew the truth—she had come within a hairsbreadth of disaster. It turned out that her instinct to hide Carlotta’s marriage contract inside her corset hadn’t been an overreaction after all.
Nigel would be back. Abbie felt sure of it.
And when he came, she was going to be prepared.
Chapter 10
Nigel did not keep her in suspense. The following day, he pounded on her door before Abbie had even finished her soft-boiled egg.
After his abominable behavior the previous day, Abbie wasn’t about to let Nigel back inside her house, so she stepped onto her little front porch to confront him.
He had brought the box of Carlotta’s documents with him. Scowling, he thrust it into her hands.
“Nigel,” she said crisply, accepting the box and setting it down next to the door. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure. I trust you have satisfied yourself that whatever legal papers you sought, they were not present.”
“Where is it?” he asked, his words imbued with quiet menace.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abbie lied, ignoring the fact that the document to which he referred was at that very moment digging into the underside of her left breast.
“Quit lying!” Nigel snarled. “Do you think I don’t know about your little trip to town yesterday?”
Abbie lifted her chin. “I was posting a letter. You may ask Maggie at The Angel Inn—”
“My man saw you go into the Angel. But before that, he saw you enter the office of Collingsworth and Collingsworth.”
She bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering. “Why should that come as a surprise? The Collingsworths have handled my family’s business for generations. It is only natural that I use them for my own legal affairs.”
“Those forthright old fools have already given you up!” Nigel snapped. “All I had to do was walk in there, sit down for a chat, mention your name on the barest pretext, and they promptly told me all about your visit. It was child’s play to get them to reveal every detail. So you may stop playing dumb because I already know you asked to see Carlotta’s marriage contract. Such a coincidence, the day after you found a box of her old papers.”
“And why,” Abbie ground out, her voice shaking, “should it worry you if I ask about Carlotta’s marriage contract? Unless you have something to hide?”
With a snarl, Nigel grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the house.
“Let me go!” Abbie shrieked, struggling to find her pocket slit so she could reach the item she’d carefully concealed beneath her skirts.
“Oh, calm down,” Nigel said, releasing her abruptly once they reached the same oak tree Abbie had ducked behind yesterday. “It’s obvious you’ve seen that other copy of the marriage contract. The one, might I add, that was found by the High Court to be a fraud.”
Abbie found herself speechless. She was shocked that Nigel was laying his cards out on the table in such a flagrant manner.
But she noted his careful wording—that the court had ruled the contract in Abbie’s possession to be fraudulent.
That didn’t mean it was a fraud. Based on the signatures, Abbie was convinced hers was the true copy.
Nigel held out a hand, palm side up. “Now quit wasting time and give it here.”
Abbie swallowed. Nigel knew too much for her to play dumb. But she hadn’t considered that the conversation would take this turn, and she hadn’t had time to think through what she was going to say. “If the high court has already ruled this other document a fraud, then why are you so concerned about its existence?” Nigel did not respond, so she continued, “I think it’s because you know the truth. The document I found bears Carlotta’s signature. The one ratified by the high court does not. Admit it, Nigel. We both know which copy is the fraud.”
“It was for the high court to determine which one was a fraud! Their ruling is final.”
“That may be true. Although I think the case might be re-opened should new evidence be discovered.” Abbie started, as a new approach occurred to her. “If any fraud was committed, it was done before either of us was born. You are blameless in this, Nigel. I know you must be worried that this document coming to light might cause a scandal, or tarnish the memory of your grandfather, but—”
Nigel’s laugh was derisive. “Tarnish the memory of my grandfather? As if I cared about that. Do you have any idea how much those vineyards bring in every year? More than half of my income!”
Abbie sighed. So much for her attempts to ascribe nobler impulses to Nigel Davies.
Nigel made a slashing motion with his hand. “The vineyards will be staying with the Dulson estate. Now, give me that contract!”
Abbie recoiled a step. “I-I can’t do that.”
