Fair Weather Enemies Read online

  “That much is unclear. My great-grandfather did not hear from his friend for many months. Then he received a letter from the man describing the location of the gold.”

  Adam wagged his forefinger vigorously in protest. “As did my great-grandfather. Because he bankrolled the entire venture, he laid claim to the gold.”

  Her jaw clenched. “Because our ancestors were partners, and as the gold was from my great-grandfather’s portion of the enterprise, the rightful claim was his.”

  “Why, that is the most ridiculous…” Adam stopped short. He tamped down annoyance to address Barlow. “Needless to say, sir, our forefathers disagreed over ownership of the treasure.”

  Barlow snorted. “Clearly, the disagreement extends to the descendants. However, I fail to understand the source of the vitriol. Although the gold represents a significant sum, it does not account for the concerted efforts of four generations to ruin one another. What would explain that?”

  “Murder.”

  At Mrs. Byrd’s pronouncement, all eyes turned toward her. Barlow cocked his head in disbelief. “Murder?”

  “As I said, sir. The men met to argue ownership. The disagreement erupted into a duel and each man mortally wounded the other. Neither survived the day. Each family blamed the other and has spent seventy years exacting revenge.”

  Barlow shook his head as his frown deepened. “An ugly history, to be sure, with money and murder to fuel the flame. May I ask, though, who obtained the gold?”

  Adam looked at Miss Hancock to find her staring at him with further accusation.

  “Neither,” she said.

  Barlow’s frown grew deeper still. “But you each had a letter…”

  “The letter makes no sense. Our parents and grandparents spent a small fortune and untold years attempting to locate the gold to no avail. The letter is apparently rubbish.”

  Barlow held out his palms. “So, the trusted friend did steal the gold?”

  Miss Hancock nodded. “Perhaps. If so, the Ashfords have ruined my family for something we do not possess and can never retrieve.”

  “It was your family that ruined mine!” Heat rising in Adam’s cheeks propelled the words with satisfactory force. “You have rigged mill prices against us for years, driving our profit margin toward nothing.”

  “Not so! You steered business away from our mill until my father fell deep into debt. This is your family’s fault!”

  “The fault lies entirely with the Hancocks!”

  “Enough!” Barlow’s shout rattled the windows, bringing abrupt silence. He stood up from the edge of the desk, gripped both lapels, and began to pace. After a few moments, he halted to face Adam and Miss Hancock. “There is something you should know.”

  The ominous portent behind the words drew Adam forward in his chair. He noted Miss Hancock’s similarly rapt attention.

  “Oh?” Adam narrowed his eyes. “What is that, Mr. Barlow?”

  The solicitor sighed. “I knew your father, Mr. Ashford. He showed kindness to me when I was a young solicitor and offered me sage advice. In his memory, I feel compelled to return the favor.” He splayed his palms before him, entreatingly. “Do you not see that you have been ruined by a third party? Do you not understand that while the two lambs squabbled in the field, the wolf came to devour both?”

  Adam blinked with confusion. “Pardon me?”

  “Mr. Rutley, and his father before him, fanned the flames of your ancestral feud. For decades, they have systematically funded the efforts of both families to ruin one another—quite successfully. My client now stands to reap the long-expected prize. The Ashford estate. Is this not obvious to you?”

  Adam settled into distraught silence as the full force of the quandary hit home. Ashford land had remained intact for nearly two centuries, and he would be the one to lose it. His head fell into his hands and he squeezed his temples. Why hadn’t his father, apparent giver of sage advice, prepared him for this? Why had he not been more forthcoming about the family’s tenuous financial position?

  “If only the letter had been right,” he mumbled mournfully. “Glasgow and Edinburgh, indeed.”

  He heard Miss Hancock rise from her chair but didn’t lift his head until a touch on his shoulder caused him to flinch. He looked up to find her peering at him with narrowed eyes and a fine crease between her sweeping eyebrows.

  “Mr. Ashford. What do you mean regarding Glasgow and Edinburgh?”

  The question perplexed him further. How could she not know his meaning? What was her game?

  “Glasgow and Edinburgh,” he repeated with mild mockery. “From the first line of the letter.”

  The surprise that lit her face erased some of his doubt. She appeared thoroughly confused. He stood to face her.

  “What is it, Miss Hancock? What do you know?”

  She stared at him for several seconds before reaching into her reticule. Her hand emerged clutching a familiar folded paper.

  “Your copy of the letter?”

  “Perhaps not a copy.” She opened the document. “Mine is entitled ‘Initium’. The first two lines read, ‘Liverpool, Leeds, a fortress unseen. A cross to denote the point to set sail.’”

  Adam’s breath caught. Without thinking, he reached into his jacket to produce his family’s copy of the letter. He carried it with him always since the day his dying father had bequeathed it to him. He opened it carefully and read the first two lines.

  “Mine is entitled ‘Sequitur’. It reads, ‘Edinburgh, Glasgow, the castle between. An arrow revealing the start of the trail.’”

  He glanced up to find Miss Hancock’s features wracked with injured betrayal. She shook her head slowly. “The letters are a lie. A ruse intended to keep us from the gold.”

  Adam numbly agreed with her assessment. “It would seem so. We have been duped twice over and ruined as a result.”

  Mrs. Byrd’s whispering drew his attention. She stared fixedly at the ceiling, her lips mouthing the lines from the letters. Then she erupted to her feet.

  “No! Not a lie! Not a ruse!” Her voice quivered with epiphany.

  Miss Hancock grabbed her hand. “Auntie. What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you see, Jane? The letters are not fabrications. They are two parts of the same letter! In Latin, initium means start and sequitur means follow.”

  Adam’s curiosity drove him toward Jane’s aunt. “Please explain, Mrs. Byrd.”

  Hester began reciting breathlessly, interleaving lines. “Liverpool, Leeds, a fortress unseen. Edinburgh, Glasgow, the castle between. A cross to denote the point to set sail. An arrow revealing the start of the trail.”

  Adam’s stomach flipped as chaotic thoughts rampaged through his mind. The lines rhymed. Two parts of the same letter. Four cities, not two. Dared he hope? Miss Hancock seemed just as taken with the notion as she whispered the lines. Then her hand flew to her mouth in astonishment. She knew something. He gripped her wrist most indecorously.

  “What are you thinking, Miss Hancock?”

  She peered up at him with wide eyes. “A map. We need a map of Britain.”

  Barlow pointed to the wall. “Just there.”

  Without a word, she stripped away the pair of ribbons holding her hair in place. Long locks unwound to drape across her back and shoulders, full and soft, the color something akin to intractable mud. No, he amended. More like freshly turned earth left in the wake of the plow before spring planting. He shook his head vigorously to remind himself that she was still a Hancock, and therefore, quite beneath his attention. Meanwhile, she hurried to the map.

  “Mr. Barlow, if you please.” She offered the solicitor a ribbon. “Stretch this between Edinburgh and Liverpool.”

  Barlow accepted the ribbon and did as she instructed. Adam stepped nearer, his curiosity raging. Miss Hancock wove her arms between Barlow’s and stretched the othe
r ribbon between Glasgow and Leeds. Then she cocked her head toward Adam triumphantly.

  “Where do the ribbons cross?”

  He stepped toward the map, incredulous. “Carlisle.” He glanced at her and then the map again. “A cross to denote the point to set sail!”

  “Of course,” breathed Barlow. “Carlisle! That makes sense.”

  Jane peered up at him expectantly. “How so?”

  He removed the ribbon from the map and pressed a finger to Carlisle. “The rebellion of ’45. The one that sent your forefathers fleeing from Scotland. Do you know where it was that the rebels crossed the border?”

  Adam shrugged. “Carlisle?”

  “Yes! Carlisle. Not only that, it is home to Carlisle Castle.”

  “The castle between?”

  “Yes. And if one were fleeing an advancing force with, say, sixty-four hundred guineas as cargo, where might one start a map?”

  “Carlisle Castle!” cried Miss Hancock. She faced Adam with unbridled excitement. Her eyes locked with his before she apparently remembered the adversarial nature of their relationship. Her joyous smile faded to grim determination. “If one were to find the hidden gold, Carlisle would most certainly be the place to begin.”

  Adam placed a forefinger to his lip in contemplation and gave birth to an idea that might save his land. And save Miss Hancock, not that he cared.

  “See here. What if we offer Rutley a compromise?”

  She cocked her head, clearly intrigued. “What do you suggest?”

  “What if we ask for the winter to find the gold? When we do, we split it equally between us and make partial payments toward our debts as a show of good faith. We set aside enough to ensure survival until the next harvest. Rutley might be persuaded to refrain from calling in our debts until then.”

  Miss Hancock nodded, her face painted with skeptical hope. “Mr. Barlow, do you think Mr. Rutley would accept such an offer?”

  Barlow frowned in consideration. “Perhaps. Perhaps. Rutley is a hard man. However, I believe you should offer the compromise.”

  Adam watched Miss Hancock to gauge her reaction. Her spontaneous smile faded again when she noticed his scrutiny. “Very well, Mr. Ashford. It seems we are unwilling partners in this venture. However, we shall never be friends.”

  He chuckled low. “On that, at least, we firmly agree.”

  Chapter Three

  Jane held her breath while Mr. Rutley lounged behind his desk, considering the offer. Upon his return, Mr. Ashford had wasted no time explaining it and had managed not to bumble it completely. Now, she could only wait as nothing less than her freedom hung in the balance. Aunt Hester fidgeted nervously at her side while Barlow frowned. Then, the man to whom she owed a fortune lifted his eyes and smiled.

  “No.”

  She flinched as if he’d struck her. “No? Why?”

  “I find no benefit from your offer. Only a fool would accept it.”

  Ashford stood from his chair, clearly agitated. “But the gold, sir. Nearly seven thousand pounds. What of that?”

  Rutley choked a patronizing laugh. “Mr. Ashford. Your utter lack of business acumen is the very reason for your impending ruin.”

  Ashford’s face grew stony and he folded his arms. “Explain.”

  “Very well. I will explain in terms even you and Miss Hancock might understand. At this moment, I own your estate, which you so accurately appraised at twenty-five thousand pounds. If I agree to your plan and you succeed, I will lose my claim. A few thousand pounds in gold coin would serve as a very poor substitute, don’t you think?”

  Rutley’s logic appeared to have the desired impact on Ashford. He blinked and his folded arms fell to his sides. He clenched his fists briefly before lifting determined eyes.

  “Surely, sir, there is something you value as much as my estate. Something perhaps I might give you.”

  Rutley’s smirk faded as he pondered the cryptic words. He stood to pace the room, deep in thought. When he stopped to face them, his face wore a different smile—one Jane found disturbing.

  “In consideration of your offer, Mr. Ashford, allow me to counter.”

  “We are listening.”

  Rutley glanced at Jane, dismissed her quickly, and spoke to Ashford. “I offer this. I will allow you thirty days to find the gold.”

  Jane inhaled a sharp breath as hope resurged. Rutley paused long enough to coddle that hope before crushing it anew.

  “However. If you do manage to locate the gold, you must play a single contest of cross and pile for the entire sum.”

  Jane stood slowly and glanced at Ashford. His frown threatened to fall through his chin.

  “You wish us to toss a coin?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “And the winner keeps all while the loser keeps none?”

  “Exactly.” Rutley peered at Jane. “If Miss Hancock wins, then she must surrender the entire sum to me in exchange for the cancelling of her debt. I will, of course, retain the Ashford estate.”

  “And if I win?” said Ashford.

  “The same. You must surrender the entire sum in exchange for forgiveness of your debt. You keep your estate.”

  “And Miss Hancock?”

  “To debtor’s prison, I’m afraid.”

  Alarm locked Jane’s tongue. Everything would hinge on the single toss of a coin? The prospect seemed heinous. She glared at Mr. Rutley, but he appeared intent on Ashford.

  “There is one further caveat,” Rutley said.

  Ashford locked eyes with him and nodded, as if knowing what the man intended to say. Rutley returned the nod.

  “What I just proposed still risks my losing your very valuable estate. I find that outcome unacceptable. As such, I require a guarantee that maintains my interest in the property.”

  Ashford clenched his jaw. “Say it, Rutley. No more posturing.”

  “As you wish. Regardless of how the coin falls, you must agree to marry my daughter and cede all annual estate profits to me. If you lose, I will allow you to remain on my new estate for my daughter’s sake.”

  Jane blinked, annoyed at not having recognized Rutley’s insidious trap earlier. In short, he offered a deal with the devil that benefited him financially and raised his family’s standing through an advantageous marriage to the Ashford name. Irritation boiled over before she could restrain it.

  “What you offer is obscene, Mr. Rutley.”

  He turned to her with self-righteous indignation. “Is this not what you both wanted? A winner and a loser? One family to rise and the other to fall, now and for all time? Is this not the poisonous dream nurtured by four generations of your families?”

  She failed to offer a response because she could not deny his accusation. For the span of her lifetime, she had been taught to wish for nothing more than the demise of her mortal enemies, the Ashfords. However, what Rutley called a dream now seemed a horrific nightmare.

  …

  Adam agreed with Miss Hancock’s assessment. What Rutley offered was indeed obscene. However, it was not unexpected. In fact, Adam had instigated the offer, perhaps against his better judgment. He had shown amorous interest in Miss Rutley earlier, that much was certain. He found her eminently lovely and agreeable company. However, he had not relished the notion of Mr. Rutley as a father-in-law. Could he overcome his reservations? In a moment of clarity, he decided.

  Yes. I must.

  Without his estate, he was less than nothing. He refused to forfeit two centuries of family legacy and his place in society, even though the pressure of both had nearly squeezed the life from him. Perhaps a lovely wife would offset the detraction of kinship to a snake. He engaged Rutley with an unwavering gaze.

  “I accept your caveat.” Rutley barely concealed his triumph. Adam was not finished, though. “One question nags me. What happens if the gold is gone?
If we do not find it?”

  “Then you would fall into breach of contract, whereupon the contract would become null and void. The original conditions would then apply. I would take your estate and Miss Hancock would find herself summarily incarcerated.”

  “And if we find less than the expected amount? The likelihood of a horde of gold remaining intact after seventy years is very low.”

  “Breach of contract. I expect sixty-four hundred guineas and not a farthing less. And I expect it within thirty days.”

  Adam glanced at Miss Hancock to find her peering at him with an inscrutable expression. He breathed deeply. “Miss Hancock? What say you?”

  Her gritted jaw relaxed as she apparently surrendered to the inevitability of the dubious situation. “I accept Mr. Rutley’s proposal, obscene as it may be. I have no other choice.”

  Rutley clapped his hands together. “Good, good. Barlow!”

  “Sir?”

  “Draw up a contract with all the details. The full sixty-four hundred guineas. A thirty-day deadline. The surrendering to me of all found gold in exchange for a single cancelled debt. A wedding, regardless. And above all, one winner, one loser, and the toss of a coin to determine it all.” He reached into a pocket to produce one of the new half crowns featuring George III in a heroic Grecian pose, and thrust it into Adam’s reluctant fingers. “I will even supply the coin.”

  Adam and Jane resumed their respective chairs and sat glumly while Barlow drew up the insidious contract. When the document was complete, they stood to sign the devil’s deal. After the deed was done, Adam jammed the pen into the well in disgust. He glanced aside to regard Miss Hancock. Her chin quivered, and he could only guess what emotions might be consuming her. With great effort, he reminded himself not to care about her plight. He offered cool detachment instead.

  “What next, Miss Hancock?”

  Though blinking back tears, she stretched her spine as if willing away despair. “As we’ve only thirty days, we must begin immediately.”

  Mrs. Byrd stepped to her niece’s side. “I will chaperone, Jane.”