Page 78 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

DOUGLAS GAPED AT NATHAN, then scowled and said flatly, “I don’t have a brother.”

“You are Malcolm Douglas, are you not? I am Nathan Dunbridge, George Dunbridge’s son.” Nathan felt a twinge of unease. Flora Douglas had sounded as though Malcolm knew about his parentage, but what if Nathan had just revealed a family secret?

However, Malcolm’s next words reassured him that Malcolm was fully aware of the circumstances of his birth. His lip curled into a sneer. “Dunbridge. I might have known. Then it’s you behind this.”

Nathan sighed. Apparently every Douglas thought of his family as villains. “No, I am not the one who kidnapped you.”

Verity moved forward pugnaciously, saying, “What is the matter with you people? Nathan is rescuing you, and in case you haven’t noticed, with physical harm to himself.” She gestured toward Nathan.

Douglas looked down at the small woman in some bemusement. “I...um...”

Verity crossed her arms and continued. “Now, would you like to be freed or stay here and nurse your stupid resentment of the Dunbridges?”

Douglas sighed and set down the bucket. “I, uh, apologize for my lack of courtesy. But I haven’t the slightest notion what is going on, and I’m getting bloody well tired of it. Excuse my language, miss. I am very grateful for your rescue.” He gave Nathan a pointed look. “But Flora Douglas is my mother, and I want nothing to do with George Dunbridge.”

“Understood,” Nathan replied equably and went over to examine the chain padlocked around one leg of the iron bedstead. “They certainly went to the extreme to keep you locked up.”

Malcolm shrugged. “They chained me up after I tried to escape.”

“One might think the bar on the door would have sufficed.”

The other man shook his head. “They put that there after the second time I tried to escape, because I broke the lock. The third time, I knocked out the skinny one, but the short fellow was right outside the door with a gun, unfortunately.”

“And the first time?” Verity asked, looking intrigued.

“That was when I woke up back at the beginning, right after they kidnapped me, and they knocked me on the head again. When I came to, they had bound and gagged me.”

“Perhaps I like you after all,” Verity said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Nathan squatted down beside the bed. “If both you and I lift the frame, Douglas, Verity can slip the chain from the bed. We can deal with the leg iron when we’ve gotten you to safety.”

“No need to break your backs,” Verity said cheerfully. The morning’s events had obviously improved her spirits. She whisked two short metal rods from her upswept hair, and knelt, making short work of the lock on the leg iron. “Now, gentlemen, I suggest we leave before those two return.”

“I wish they would,” Douglas growled. “I’d like to get my hands on them.”

“You wouldn’t if they come back with guns,” Verity told him. “Or comrades.”

They walked quickly through the warehouse. Malcolm glanced at the smashed meat pie on the floor and said a little mournfully, “I suppose that was my breakfast.”

“I beg your pardon,” Verity said. “It was a casualty of the battle.”

When they stepped outside, Malcolm pulled in a deep breath, looking all around, though he squinted and had to shade his eyes, unaccustomed to that much light. “How did you find me? Why were you looking for me?”

“We weren’t at first. It wasn’t until your parents told us you were missing that we began to search for you,” Nathan replied.

“My parents?” Malcolm said in alarm. “I had hoped perhaps they might not know. Did they pay a ransom?”

“No. There was none asked.”

“Then why—”

Nathan told him the whole story, beginning with the man arriving at Stonecliffe saying he was George Dunbridge’s son. By the time Nathan reached the end of the tale, they had left the docks and found a hansom.

Malcolm looked from Verity to Nathan and back, a little more enlightened than he had been to start with. “But why? Why would he think he could escape notice? He couldn’t have carried that off for years. My parents would have known it wasn’t me. My uncle would have—” He turned toward Nathan. “Does Uncle Robert know about all this?”

“Not that I know of. Since we thought the imposter was you, we didn’t want to discuss the blackmail with your uncle,” Nathan explained. “Certainly your uncle said nothing about it to us. He put you not arriving down to a young man’s desire not to be burdened with an uncle while he sowed his wild oats.”

Douglas snorted. “I think I’m past the wild oats age.”