Page 88 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“No. They’d hate me. The wicked Sassenach.”

“Everything makes sense now. Robert doesn’t want to physically harm his nephew, just keep him from interfering with his plan. He hires a couple of ruffians to kidnap him and keep Malcolm locked up, then he finds an actor or mountebank who fits the general description and can pretend to be a Scotsman. Uncle Robert then gives the imposter all the information that he wants provided to us. Maybe he also hoped for some blackmail money, but it wouldn’t have mattered, really. His eye was on the larger prize.”

Nathan added, “It also explains why he didn’t ask for ransom—Robert wouldn’t have wanted Flora and John to know that Malcolm had been kidnapped. And who knows whether Shoemaker and Hill realized that Malcolm’s valet saw the whole incident.”

“Even if they were aware they’d been seen, they wouldn’t have told their employer.”

“Robert probably thought his brother had no idea. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted the Douglases to come to London and create a huge stir.”

“Exactly—” Verity wagged her finger back and forth to indicate the two of them. “You and I might have been accosted by them and learned that our Malcolm was a fake.”

“When I look back at it now—” Nathan’s gaze was hazy as if actually trying to see into the past “—it wasn’t an accident when Robert told me the name of the village. He’s clearly too good a liar to have slipped up. Good enough, in fact, to make it appear as though he slipped up, which would make me even more certain that there was a family secret there. He wanted us to have the name of the village, wanted us to go there and find out what really happened.”

“He’s an excellent liar,” Verity said. “He certainly fooled me.”

“He asked me more than once to tell him if Malcolm turned up, which adds weight to your idea that he lost track of Tolliver.”

“Where he slipped up was underestimating you,” Verity told Nathan. “He assumed you would have no concern for your brother, that you would be happy to spread it around that Malcolm was illegitimate.”

“I don’t think family loyalty is something Robert understands well,” Nathan said drily.

“What do we do now?” Verity asked. “If he killed Will Tolliver, we can’t just let Robert get away with it.”

“No. I don’t know how we’ll convince anyone of our theory, though. Malcolm and his parents won’t want to believe it, especially coming from a Dunbridge.” Nathan scowled. “And we have no proof, just conjecture. Still, we have to warn Malcolm about his uncle. Robert failed with this scheme, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try something else. Though I’m not sure how he could claim the inheritance without killing him.” Nathan’s head snapped up, and he and Verity stared at each other in alarm.

“He may have cared enough about Malcolm to go after the fortune by other means. But if murdering him is the only way—well, Robert’s already done away with one man.”

“And we left Malcolm alone with him.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

THEY TURNED AND ran for the carriage.

It took fifteen minutes to reach Robert Douglas’s narrow redbrick house, and Nathan spent the whole time careening between deep satisfaction at unraveling the mystery and frustration at not figuring it out earlier. “Why didn’t I think of this before?”

“You aren’t omniscient, Nathan,” Verity told him. “I’m the supposed investigator—if anyone should have realized it earlier, it was I. You have to admit that it was a rather convoluted motive.”

“Yes, but who would have had such intimate knowledge of the details of Malcolm’s birth besides someone in his family?” Nathan shook his head. “Truth is, I took Robert at face value. I should have been more suspicious.”

“Don’t fret. We’ll save Malcolm,” Verity said confidently. “Surely his uncle won’t have done away with him this quickly—not after everything that’s happened.”

They tumbled out of the carriage and raced to the front door. Nathan’s knock was thunderous. It was only a moment before Douglas’s butler opened the door. He looked startled at the sight of them, dirty and disheveled from their explorations in the tunnel, and his eyes widened as they went to Verity’s suddenly augmented stomach. But he managed to keep his voice smoothly polite. “Sir. I’m afraid Mr. Dou—”

Nathan stepped into the entry without waiting for an invitation. “I have to speak to Malcolm.”

“But, sir, Mr. Douglas has guests—” He stepped back, gaping, as Nathan and Verity swept past him toward the sound of voices and laughter coming from the drawing room. He hurried after them. “Sir. Miss, er, ma’am, there is a gathering in—”

Verity and Nathan rushed through the open double doors and stopped. There were several people in the room, dainty teacups in hand, and they all turned toward the couple at their sudden entrance.

It took only a glance to see that Malcolm was not among them. His uncle was, and Robert came forward. “Why, Mr. Dunbridge. And, ah, Miss, Mrs., um...”

“I need to see Malcolm. Where is he?” Nathan asked.

“Ah, well, you see, he’s not here at the moment. We were just having a bit of tea and cakes while we wait for him to return. Why don’t you come in and have a bit of refreshment?” Douglas’s eyes went to Verity again in some horror. “Or perhaps you’d rather wait for him in another room.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I only want to speak with Malcolm. If you could tell me—”

“Oh, I’m sure he will be back any moment,” Robert went on in a tone of forced joviality. “The dear boy wouldn’t want to miss you. Why don’t we just go over here—” He took Nathan’s elbow in one hand and Verity’s in the other and tried to steer them toward an alcove in the rear of the room. “You must be tired, uh, in your condition, Mrs., um... I’ll just have some refreshments brought for you, and you can wait right here for Malcolm.”