The concierge closed his eyes briefly. “I’m afraid customer information is classified, sir; I cannot. I do apologize.”

  Lucas leaned in, reached into his coat pocket to get his credentials out. Flipping open his billfold, he showed his Consortium Financial identification. “This is of the utmost importance,” he said, lowering his voice. “I trust that you can be discreet?”

  “Of course, sir.” The concierge flipped through pages of the book. “The Baroness Carmichael is in room twenty-four fifteen, the corner penthouse suite. If you like, I can call up to announce you properly?”

  “Not necessary, Hal, thank you.” Lucas put a silver piece on the counter, and motioned for the others to follow him. Alright, he thought. Let’s get this over with. “Ayla, I want you to sit with Charity in the lobby, alright? Jake and I—”

  “Oh no,” Ayla laughed. “I’m definitely coming with you.”

  “Well I’m not leaving Charity out here alone.”

  Ayla paused, eyeing Charity, and then seemed to come to a decision. “How about she comes up with us, and then we have her wait outside? You have a beamer, right?” she asked Charity. “Just in case?”

  “I—yes. But—”

  Ayla clapped her on the shoulder. “Alright then, that’s sorted. Come on, boys.” She turned toward her maids, handing one of them the key to her room. “Girls, put my things up in my suite then wait for me there.”

  Once they had gone, Lucas led Ayla, Jake, and Charity up to the 24th floor. Up this high, the hallways were large, and ornately decorated: red carpets, oil lamps burning softly in their cases along the wall, complicated patterns embossed on the wallpaper.

  Stopping at door number fifteen, Lucas handed his cane to Charity and drew his beamer. Behind him, Ayla and Jake did the same. Jake spoke up. “I should go in, Luc, since I’m the lawman here. You and the girls stay out here.”

  “I’m the one who signs your pay sheet,” Lucas said, resting his hand on the door. “I’ve got seniority.”

  Lucas tested the door to see if it was unlocked. It was. He glanced back at them. “On three,” he said quietly. And then, “Three!” He shoved open the door and rushed into the suite. He tore immediately to his left, and Jake peeled off straight ahead and to the right while he continued through the parlor, his beamer held out in front of him. The suite was larger than he’d thought, even for a penthouse suite, and he wound up in a sunroom overlooking downtown Atlanta. “Clear!” he shouted back to the others.

  “Clear!” Jake’s voice came back.

  There was a woman’s high-pitched scream and Ayla called back to them. “Got her! Dressing room next to the bedroom, come straight in from the front door!”

  Lucas rushed back to Ayla, nearly running into Charity who’d poked her head inside of the door. He motioned for her to follow, and they continued on through the bath into the spacious dressing room where Ayla had a young girl crouched down in a corner behind a dresser. Ayla looked back at them, her beamer still trained on the girl. “Well, meet our big, badass, criminal mind.”

  “No,” Lucas shook his head. “There’s more to it than just this,” he said, motioning Ayla back while he walked forward. He looked her over. She was shaking, holding up an open parasol like a shield, as if it would do anything. Bright blue eyes peeked over the top of the lace parasol, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. The roots of her hair were darker than her otherwise platinum blonde hair; if he had to guess, Lucas would’ve figured her for a redhead. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

  “L-Lucy...,” the cowering blonde replied, looking at her feet. “Lucy Spence. I’m the daughter of Count-Reverend Edward Spence. Please... please leave! Please don’t hurt me. I-I’ll call security and the Consortium on you!”

  “We are the Consortium, honey,” Jake said. He opened up his jacket to show his Jaeger badge.

  “But—I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “Eddie’s little sister?” Charity asked. “Are you in on this, too?”

  “Charity?” she asked, confused. “In on what? Eddie said things were tense at home, so he sent me here to the city for a week while he went around taking care of business.”

  Eyes narrowing, Lucas regarded the girl. Something wasn’t quite right. “Where’s your servant, the man that’s been seen with you whenever you’re in public?”

  “Esmond? He‘s downstairs, taking care of the bill. He handles the finances when I come into Atlanta.”

  “What?”

  Lucas’ head whipped around; Charity was launching herself at the girl, and would have reached her if he hadn’t gotten an arm around her waist. He held her back as she cried, “You lying little trollop! Esmond works for my family!”

  “What—what are you talking about?” Lucy’s eyes were big, and she held her parasol even tighter. “He has been ever since your family sold his contract to us. Eddie loans him out from time-to-time, but he still belongs to us.”

  Still holding Charity, Lucas whirled toward Jake and Ayla, jerking his thumb back toward the elevators. “Get him,” he said, and they both nodded, rushing from the room. He turned back to Lucy. “Okay, Miss Spence,” Lucas said, offering his free hand to her. Charity was quieting, and he let her down, but kept a hand on her arm, just in case. She seemed more anxious to hear the story than he was, though, and didn’t throw herself at the girl again. “How about we go into the sitting room and try to sort this out, hmm?”

  Lucy looked up at him, down at his hand, and back up again. “My brother said that I shouldn’t talk to anyone without him, or Esmond, or our family’s attorney present. For—for propriety’s sake.”

  Lucas sighed, and pushed a hand through his hair. They had only been in Dixie twenty minutes, and he was already tired of it. He was tired of their traditions, and their propriety, and their rules, and the way they squeezed women into meek little mice-shapes that squeaked and bowed their heads, hardly able to look a man in the eye. “Fair enough,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “We can have a call put in to the Spence family attorney, and you can tell them you’ve been arrested on suspicion of fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny. They can collect you at the Consortium regional office here, downtown. I’m sure your family will be delighted to come bail you out. You’ll be the talk of the town for months.” The threat of a scandal had the girl’s blue eyes as big as tea saucers. Lucas smiled. “Fret not, the trial won’t take long. We have enough evidence and eyewitness statements to put you away for a good long time. And a woman like you? So young? So beautiful? You’ll be very popular in the prison system as a comfort girl. Or you could opt into iron-slave status, and go to some crusty, old gentleman at the public auctions. Up to you.”

  He was silent for a moment, and then held his hand out for her, gently. “Or you can come to the sitting room with me, right now, just for a minute, and answer my very simple, very informal questions without my having to officially charge you. What do you say?”

  He watched the girl weigh her options. Eventually, she drew her chin up, and looked him in the eye. “The sitting room would be preferable,” she said. Lucas helped her to her feet and escorted her there, Charity following behind and glaring daggers at them both.

  “When did you make yourself blonde?” Charity asked once they were seated. “You used to have really pretty red hair.”

  Lucy looked at her, then away. “Must she be here? I don’t want to say this in front of a slave.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you are wearing a collar now, strangely enough. That means you’re—”

  “My slave, not yours,” Lucas cut in. “And my call. Answer the question, please; I’m intrigued, now that she’s mentioned it.”

  “Oh alright,” Lucy lowered her eyes. “Earlier this year, I think it was right before Charity came back from University, Eddie mentioned how much better I would look if I were a blonde and so I decided that I’d try it out for this season.” Lucy patted and fluffed her hair. “I think it looks good on me. What are your thoughts on this, Mr.… oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

  “No, you didn’t,” Lucas said. “So you never questioned the fact that you look remarkably like Charity here from a distance? Nor was it suspicious to you that a house slave, formerly belonging to the Carmichaels and often on loan to them, suddenly became your escort for whenever you were in Atlanta?”

  “Why would it be? It hardly matters where a slave comes from,” Lucy said with a derisive sniff. “Is it not the same where you live?”

  “Let’s just say that we don’t make it a habit of buying slaves from someone and then leaving them in the house we’d just purchased them from.”

  Lucy waived a dismissive hand in the air. “Esmond had been with the Carmichaels for years prior to us buying out his contract. There was no sense in moving him from where he was.”

  “Excuse me if I maintain a bit of skepticism, here,” Lucas said. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw an older gentleman approach the room. The man stopped just short of the sitting room with a wide-eyed gaping expression. Lucas took him to be the manservant in question and assumed he had missed Jake and Ayla as they headed down to get him.

  “Esmond!” Charity exclaimed as she shot to her feet before Lucas could react. The man’s eyes went wide when he saw her, and he began to struggle. “Tell me that you were not a part of this! Tell me this was all just a big mistake! Tell me that you were not stealing my money, my family’s money!”

  The man’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish, as he was visibly shocked by her presence. Furious, Charity backed him up into the nearest corner fast, her parasol out with the tip up as if she was wielding a sword pointing at his neck. Lucas grabbed her and pulled her back before she got the idea to run Esmond through with it. “Easy dear, let’s see what he has to say first.”

  “I want to know the truth! Why are you betraying us?” Charity cried out, struggling in Lucas’ grip to get a piece of her family’s supposed butler. “We trusted you! We took care of you! Why?”

  Esmond looked like he was going to say one thing and then thought better of it, instead opting to inch back toward the doors. When Ayla and Jake came busting back in, he slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry, Miss Charity,” he said, head bowed in shame. “I had to do it. But, only to pay off my debts! To get out of indentured servitude! My brother promised me I would be freed if I went along with Mr. Spence’s plan. The Baron wanted to ruin your family and bring them into the Spence household as servants.”

  “And who’s your brother?” Jake demanded, positioning himself next to the man. He fished a pair of handcuffs from the leather pouch on his thigh and proceeded to cuff the man.

  “Ambrose Wain.”

  “Oh, this keeps getting better and better,” Lucas said. “Alright, take him and Lucy down to the Consortium offices and put them in lockup.” He pointed at the two of them. “Cooperate fully by helping us bring down Eddie and Ambrose and we can try and get you a deal. If not, you’ll be prosecuted right alongside them.” He looked at Jake. “Get them out of here.”

  “Are you going to take their statements?” Jake asked.

  “No,” Lucas shook his head. “You do it. I have bigger fish to fry. Read him his rights and get him processed.”

  “With what charge?” Esmond asked, aghast.

  “We’ll go with theft, embezzlement, and obfuscation of fund movement for starters and work our way up from there.”

  “You heard the man,” Jake said, turning on their two captives. He pointed toward the door. “March.”

  Ayla waited for him to be out of earshot before looking at Lucas. “Where do you want me?” Lucas gave her a hard look and she nodded grimly. “Okay, so what are you going to do, then?”

  This time, he looked toward Charity, still seated on the couch, and grinned. “I’m going to the source. I think it’s time her parents and I have a talk about where to find her so-called fiancé.”

  Chapter 12

  The carriage spouted a gush of steam as it came to a stop at the Carmichael Estate. Lucas stepped out first. He saw the house, and groaned. “You know, when you said that you were a Carmichael, I would’ve bet good money that you were just one of the minor branches of the family,” he said, holding out his hand for Charity as she eased herself down out of the carriage. “I didn’t think you were one of the Carmichaels.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. It’s just going to make this meeting with Bertram all the more interesting.”

  Charity blinked at him. “You know my father?”

  “Let’s just say I do business with him in Atlanta a lot, and leave it at that.”

  “Then, indeed, it shall be interesting.”

  When they reached the door, Lucas went for the brass knocker just as Charity stepped toward the handle. They both pulled back and frowned at each other. “I can just go in,” Charity said. “It is my home, after all.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Not anymore. Technically, my home back in New Eden is now your home.”

  “But—”

  “If we’re going to do this, then we have to go all the way. You sold yourself to me for protection; that’s how we have to play it. And now you have to play the role.”

  Charity closed her eyes. He could see that she was frustrated, but they had to make it look legitimate. He watched her firm her jaw and nod in agreement. She stepped back to take her “proper” place by his side. He nudged her back a half a step, and checked her over once to make sure she looked the part before knocking on the door.

  A moment later, a maid opened the door and gasped when she saw them. “Oh my Lord! Miss Charity! You’ve been returned home to us! Your mother and father will be overjoyed. They’ve been so worried!” She rushed out, enveloping Charity in a hug.

  Charity’s arms came up around the woman, but she was watching Lucas over her shoulder. “My apologies, sir,” the maid said to him when she pulled away. “Count Carmichael will be extremely pleased that you have returned her. May I have your name?”

  “Of course. Please tell the Count that Lucas Wolverton of the Consortium is here to see him,” Lucas said with a polite smile.

  “Of course, sir. If you will wait here, I can escort Miss Charity in and—”

  “The lady will stay here with me, thank you,” Lucas said, his smile sliding from polite to condescending.

  “But… this is her home, sir. She was abducted.”

  “Let me rephrase,” Lucas said, his tone turning more frank. He reached up to hook Charity’s collar with his finger. “My slave will remain by my side while I am in audience with the Carmichaels.”

  The maid’s eyes widened, and she paled. Charity blushed a deep crimson. “My apologies, sir.” The maid gave him a quick, but deep, curtsey. “Please wait here.” She closed the door, and Charity heard her quick footsteps receding into the house.

  She turned toward Lucas, a hurt look in her eyes. “Did you need say it in quite that way?”

  “I’m only playing the part you gave me.”

  Before Charity could say anything in return, the door opened and Bertram appeared. There was a smile on his face, and Lucas knew the maid hadn’t mentioned the collar around Charity’s neck—he looked too heartily glad. “Lucas, my boy,” he said, “how have you been?”

  “Been better, Bertram,” Lucas said, accepting the hand he offered. “I believe you know my escort?”

  Lucas felt Charity move out from behind him, and Bertram’s eyes widened. He rushed forward and pulled her into a bear hug, so hard he lifted her off her feet. “Charity,” he said. “Thank the Blessed Lord you’re home safe.” He put her down and held her at arm’s length. “You don’t look any worse for the wear. Lucas, thank God you’re the one who brought her home. When Edward told us that she’d been kidnapped by some ruffian, we feared the worst. I cannot thank you enough for this.” Bertram took Lucas’ hand in both of his. “We are indeed in your debt. But, why are you escorting her home? Why are you even in Dixie?” He leaned in. “I’m not missing another business meeting, am I?”

  “No need to play sly, she knows I’m a Jaeger,” Lucas jerked his head to the side to indicate Charity, “she figured it out when I pulled my blade to defend her down in New Eden from a band of thugs who jumped us trying to kidnap her.”

  “Edward said that his extraction team had been killed trying to rescue her.”

  Lucas couldn’t help but laugh. “Extraction team? Is that what he’s calling them?”

  “I—what do you mean? Edward said she’d been kidnapped while she was down there; they had a warrant issued for the man’s arrest. I—look, why don’t you two come in, we’ll figure things out inside.” He looked at Charity and his eyes softened.

  “The important thing is that you’re home now, dear.”

  “But she’s not home, Bertram,” Lucas said, voice level and hard. “Look at her neck.”

  “Her neck?” His eyes widened as Charity lifted her chin to give him a better view of the collar. He lifted a trembling hand toward her, past Lucas’ side. “What in Heaven’s name have you gone and done now, girl? Who’s your owner? I’ll buy out your contract at once.”

  “I hold her contract,” Lucas cut in. “And right now, Bertram, you can’t afford it.”

  Her father’s head snapped toward Lucas. “You’d be surprised. I own all of Marietta.”

  “Yeah, and your assets are not as liquid as you’d like them to be right now,” Lucas said. “Eddie Spence has been siphoning off your funds—starting with Charity’s accounts.”

  Bertram shook his head. “That can’t be. He handles our accounts. Everything is well.”

  “Sorry, sir, but that’s not true. I have the evidence to back it up.”

  “I’d like to see that evidence, if you don’t mind. Come inside. You’re lucky; Edward is here at the moment, so we can all go over it together.”

 

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