Julie Garwood Read online

  Caroline’s face showed her astonishment. “I did?”

  Bradford nodded. “You don’t remember any of it, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Tell me how it happened,” she demanded. “Why did they want to kill my father?”

  Bradford explained the story the way that it had been recounted to him. When he was finished, he waited for Caroline to absorb all of it. She had sat up during the recitation, and looked at him with an intent expression on her face.

  “Thank God I didn’t kill my father,” she whispered finally. “I couldn’t have known what I was doing.”

  Bradford quickly agreed. “You were just a baby.” He noticed that she seemed only mildly upset but still sought to soothe her. “It was an accident, Caroline.”

  “My poor father! What he must have gone through,” Caroline said. “It all makes sense to me now. Why I was sent to Uncle Henry and why Papa waited so long to bring me home! Oh, poor Papa!” Tears of anguish streamed down her face.

  Bradford pulled her down into his arms and hugged her, brushing her tears away. Caroline accepted his warmth and thought a long while about the bizarre story. She couldn’t remember a single detail, no matter how hard she tried, and finally gave up. “Do you think I’ll ever remember that night?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, sweetheart,” Bradford replied. “Your father said that after you shot the man, you fainted. And you didn’t wake up until the next morning. Then you acted like nothing had happened. It’s as if you had just erased it from your memory,” he guessed.

  “I fainted!” Caroline looked shocked and a little insulted, and Bradford found himself smiling.

  “You were only four years old,” he reminded her.

  “Bradford! The letter!” Caroline yelled. She jerked away, her eyes wide with new understanding. “It has something to do with what happened all those years ago, doesn’t it? Someone is out for revenge! That’s what the letter said.”

  Bradford’s expression turned grim. “I had it all figured out until your father told me about your past,” he stated, admitting his confusion.

  “Well, do you think it’s some relative of one of the men? What about the man I shot? Did he have a son or daughter?”

  Bradford shook his head. “Can’t find one yet. God, Caroline, if my hunch is right, we don’t have much time left.”

  “Why?” Caroline asked, worried by the frustration in her husband’s voice.

  “In six more days it will be the anniversary … fifteen years to the day when the accident took place.”

  “Then there’s only one thing to be done,” Caroline announced. There was a determined glint in her eyes when she continued, “We have to set a trap and I can be the bait.”

  “Hold it right there! I’ve already decided on a trap, but you’re not going to be involved. Is that understood?” His voice brooked no argument. Caroline kissed him and snuggled up against him again. She was so overjoyed that he was finally confiding in her that she didn’t want to cause him any irritation right now. Besides, she told herself with a smile, she had six days to change his way of thinking. She had every intention of helping to catch the man out to get her.

  A sudden thought turned her attention. “Bradford, who knows what happened that night?”

  “Let’s see,” Bradford replied. “He told your Uncle Henry, but the rest of your Boston family doesn’t know. And he told me. So that’s four of us who know what happened.”

  “No,” Caroline returned, almost absentmindedly. She was thinking about her Uncle Henry and how he had helped her overcome her fear of pistols. He had been so patient and understanding when she had gone to him and asked him for help. She remembered that she had wanted to go hunting with Caimen and Luke, and felt like such a coward over her terror of any kind of weapon. It had taken almost a year to overcome the fear, but with her uncle’s assistance, she had succeeded.

  “No, what?” Bradford asked, puzzled. “Only four know what happened, if you exclude the three men involved in the plot. They’re dead, and that leaves your father, your uncle Henry, you, and me.”

  “And Uncle Milo,” Caroline supplied.

  Bradford shook his head. “No, love. Your father was very specific. He said he only told his younger brother. No one else,” he stated. “I’m sure of it.”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, I understand what you’re saying,” she replied. “He didn’t tell back then, when it happened, but after I came home, he went to the marquis and told him everything. I’m almost certain, because he said he owed him the full explanation so that he wouldn’t deny me. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time, but now I think … Bradford, why are you looking at me like that? What’s the matter?”

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” Bradford yelled, and seeing his wife’s alarm, he quickly lowered his voice. “It’s all right. It’s all starting to fit together, that’s all. Damn, I knew Franklin had to be behind it!”

  “Franklin? Bradford, are you sure?” Caroline sounded incredulous. “Why, that little cur! He doesn’t get along with his brother and he constantly tries to rile him, but I didn’t think he’d be capable of … my own uncle!”

  She was suddenly quite speechless and her face turned pink with anger.

  “I’d bet on it,” Bradford stated. “He has a powerful motive, Caroline. Greed. The marquis is going to settle quite a bit of money on you. He changed his will and only then told his brother what he had done. Thank God for that,” he muttered. “Your uncle Franklin would have killed him otherwise.”

  “What about Loretta?” Caroline asked. “Do you think she’s in on it?” She was horrified just thinking about the vile twosome, remembering how Loretta had flirted with Bradford the night of her father’s dinner party.

  “She has accumulated vast gambling debts and is desperate for money. The lenders have her vouchers and are waiting for the marquis to die.”

  “You mean she promised them my uncle Milo’s money?” Caroline was outraged. “Well, you’ve answered my question! Of course she’s in on it. The woman has absolutely no morals!”

  “Franklin must have overheard your father telling the marquis what happened, and he’s using that information to escape suspicion.”

  Caroline shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve showed the letter to Milford and me, and your father is still alive to tell what happened back then. Franklin has set it up to look like a case of revenge. That’s why the date is important. If something happened to you on the twentieth, it ties up in a nice little package for Franklin.”

  Bradford’s tone of voice was mild but his eyes showed his anger. Caroline trembled and felt goose-bumps cover her arms. He saw her reaction and drew her down on top of him. “God, I hope I’m right and it is Franklin. Never did like the bastard!”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Caroline whispered.

  “Don’t be frightened, love. I’ve waited all my life for you. I’ll not let anyone harm you.”

  “I know you’ll protect me,” Caroline answered. She kissed him on the chin. “I always feel safe with you, except when you’re yelling at me, of course.”

  “I never yell at you,” Bradford replied, smiling, knowing full well he lied.

  Caroline returned his smile. Her stomach grumbled. “I’m hungry,” she told her husband.

  Bradford deliberately chose to misunderstand her meaning. He told her he was hungry, too, and kissed her quite thoroughly. And then he rolled her onto her back and began to make love to her. Caroline thought to explain that she was hungry for dinner, but the explanation got lost somewhere in the back of her mind. Dinner could wait a while longer. Besides, Caroline told herself, she was always an obedient wife.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BRADFORD’S DISPOSITION CHANGED OVERNIGHT. HIS VOICE was curt, his manner brisk. Caroline understood that he was concentrating on his plan to trap Franklin and wasn’t at all concerned.

  Neither Bradford nor Milford excluded her from their discussio
ns. Milford was certainly astonished when Caroline told him what had happened to her almost fifteen years ago, but he wasn’t fully convinced that Franklin was using the information to get to Caroline. He cautioned his friend, stating that there could well be a relative out for revenge.

  The three were seated in the drawing room, discussing the issue. Bradford patiently waited for Milford to finish with his theories, and then countered with his own arguments.

  “I don’t think that Franklin knew about Caroline’s past when he pushed her down the stairs. I also think he arranged the carriage accident before his twisted mind formed the plan of revenge.”

  “But if that’s true, then Uncle Milo would have had to tell Franklin,” Caroline argued, shaking her head.

  “Caroline, your Uncle Franklin wouldn’t let up on trying to discredit you in his older brother’s eyes. I believe that the marquis tried to defend you and told his brother what happened.”

  Bradford shrugged, concentrating on his theories, and continued, “Franklin didn’t think you’d be killed falling down the steps, love, but he wanted to frighten you. He assumed that you’d tell your father. Most daughters would,” he added. “When you didn’t, he arranged the carriage mishap. He knew you were riding with Milford and me, remember?”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes! I do remember. Uncle Milo told us that my father had decided who was to ride with … and that Franklin had disappeared,” she added. “I was so angry with you, Bradford, that I didn’t think anything of his sudden disappearance.”

  “Why were you angry with Brad?” Milford asked, trying to follow the conversation.

  “Nigel Crestwall was all over her and I got a little carried away,” Bradford admitted.

  “A little carried away?” Caroline asked her husband.

  Bradford shrugged, dismissing the subject. “I think that Franklin was certain one of us would report the mishap to your father. All he wanted then was for you to go back to Boston. His brother would be furious all over again, and write you out of the will. See how simple it all is?”

  Milford nodded, seeing the logic of his friend’s thinking. “You must have been another frustration for Franklin,” he commented. “Everyone knew that you meant to have Caroline.”

  Bradford was about to answer his friend’s remark when Caroline interrupted. “This is all speculation, but if it is true, then isn’t Uncle Milo in jeopardy too?”

  Bradford nodded. He had wondered how long it would take his wife to reach that conclusion and knew full well what her next thought would be.

  “We must return to London,” Caroline stated.

  “It isn’t safe,” Milford countered, frowning. “Besides, if Brad is right, the marquis has to be kept alive until you’re—” he broke off, realizing he wasn’t being very delicate.

  Caroline nodded. “Until I’ve been murdered?” She turned to her husband then and said, “You can think of a way for me to be safe in London.”

  She was surprised when her husband nodded agreement. “You’ll be very safe,” he announced. “We’ll leave at dawn.”

  “Brad, use your head! There’s just four days left now, and regardless of how you argue that Franklin is the guilty one, you’re not absolutely sure.”

  “How do you know he isn’t sure?” Caroline asked Milford.

  “It’s simple,” Milford returned. “If he was certain, Franklin would be dead now.”

  Caroline looked shocked, following Milford’s line of reasoning.

  “Do you honestly believe that your husband would allow him to live?” Now Milford looked shocked.

  “Don’t worry her,” Bradford interrupted. He took his wife into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “We have to go to London to set our trap.”

  As soon as Caroline was safely tucked inside their London townhouse, Bradford sent a note to her father, requesting an immediate interview.

  Caroline was so exhausted from the long journey that she fell asleep on the settee, and Bradford carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She didn’t learn what her father had told her husband until the following morning. Then he confirmed that her father had told the marquis the true reason for sending her to Boston.

  “Can we go to see Uncle Milo?” Caroline asked.

  “I insist on it,” Bradford returned. He saw his wife’s surprised look and smiled. “Franklin is cooped up with his mistress but Loretta’s there. I’m going to mention that we’re returning to Bradford Hills on the morning of the twentieth.”

  “How do you know that Franklin’s with a mistress and Loretta—”

  “Caroline, credit me with a little common sense,” he returned. “I’ve had men trailing the two of them for a long time now.”

  “Are you certain that Loretta’s in on it?” Caroline asked, getting decidedly nervous.

  Bradford sighed and slowly nodded his head. “Go and get ready,” he suggested.

  Caroline rushed up the steps but Bradford halted her with his comment. “Sweetheart? Try not to look too surprised when you see your uncle’s newest employee.”

  “And who might that be?” Caroline asked, puzzled by his statement.

  “Your father’s former cook.”

  “Marie? Are you serious?” Caroline grabbed hold of the bannister rail, her eyes wide with the ramifications of what Bradford was suggesting. “Good Lord! She could have poisoned us all … why didn’t she?”

  “Probably would have if Franklin hadn’t come up with his devious little plan. As it was, her duty was to keep tabs on you and report.”

  “She’s the one who put that horrid letter on the table for me to find!”

  Bradford nodded and was shocked when his wife repeated one of his favorite expletives.

  He didn’t think to criticize her for it. Caroline turned and hurried on to her room, muttering something about trusting Mary Margaret’s instincts from now on.

  Their departure to see the marquis was delayed when Charity and Paul arrived on their doorstep for a visit.

  Caroline was so thrilled to see her cousin that Bradford kept his patience and listened to the idle chatter until his nerves had reached the breaking point. He wanted the visit over and done with, concerned that Franklin would return. He wasn’t concerned that Caroline would be harmed, but that he might well strangle the man right in front of his brother. He had every intention of dealing with Franklin, but hoped Caroline wouldn’t be forced to witness it.

  His wife was so happy to learn that Charity and Paul weren’t going to leave for Boston until the middle of the summer that she was in high spirits when they finally went to see the marquis.

  Bradford had tutored his wife as to exactly what she should say and thought that she was proceeding quite well. She didn’t bat an eye when she spotted Marie, but her voice sounded strained when she visited with Loretta.

  The marquis was seated in front of a fire in the main salon, looking quite fit. Caroline sat beside him, holding his hand. She had already mentioned that they were going to return to Bradford Hills on the twentieth, using the excuse that her husband had duties to attend to and she didn’t want to leave his side.

  Her Uncle Milo teased her about being newly married and Caroline blushed quite prettily. Loretta finally took her leave, and Bradford stood up, his signal to his wife that it was time to depart.

  “Uncle Milo, I’ve a favor to ask you,” Caroline announced. She looked at her husband and motioned him to sit back down.

  Bradford frowned, but Caroline ignored him and turned back to her uncle.

  “You know I’d do anything for you, dear,” Uncle Milo returned.

  “I’m worried about my father,” Caroline said. “He … he isn’t feeling well and he’s all alone and he won’t come with us to Bradford Hills.”

  “Brax is ill?” he asked. His eyes showed his concern and he gripped Caroline’s hand.

  She hurried to soothe him. “The physician says that he’s really fine.” Caroline glanced over at her husband. He was staring at her with a look that su
ggested she had just lost her mind.

  “It’s in his head, you see. He’s so lonely and alone. Well, I was wondering if you might consider moving in with him for a spell. Until he gets used to not having me around again.”

  Uncle Milo looked delighted by the suggestion. “A splendid idea,” he announced. “Glad to help out.”

  “Bradford will help you transfer your things,” Caroline volunteered. She smiled at her husband and then added, “I just won’t stop worrying until you’re with my father, Uncle Milo. Do you think you could move into his townhouse today?”

  Bradford fell in with the plan, thinking it was an excellent method of seeing to her uncle’s protection. He had also noticed the spark of eagerness in the man’s eyes and realized then what a lonely man he must really be.

  But his gentle wife had understood. He fought the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her, realizing again that he possessed the most beautiful of all women. And the beauty came from her heart.

  He waited until he finally had her alone in their carriage and then took her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  “What was that for?” Caroline asked. Her voice trembled from the heat of the kiss, and that special weak feeling invaded her stomach.

  “For being beautiful,” Bradford told her.

  Caroline sighed. “I’m glad you think I’m beautiful, Bradford. But what will happen when I grow old and wrinkled?” Her voice sounded fretful and she searched his face for her answer.

  “I love you, sweet, but it isn’t because of your appearance. It’s what’s inside you, and that won’t ever change. Did you think I could be so shallow and tell you that I loved you because of your appearance only?”

  Caroline shook her head, denying that truth, and Bradford kissed her again. He pushed her head down on his shoulder so she couldn’t see the mischief in his eyes and added, “If that was the case, I would have left you when you cut your hair.”

  Caroline didn’t take the bait. She laughed, delighted with his wit, and told him that the only reason she had married him was because of his money.

  It was the last time that they teased each other during the following two days.