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Chapter 19
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The fever has caught me. I am weak and I know that it will only get worse. I have watched others die of this malady for over a decade and know what is to come. I have tried to fight it, but I feel I am getting weaker. I have only one regret—that I did not return to England to see my son sooner. So close. The journey has been planned, but now I know it cannot be made. I will never touch his face or hear his laugh. And he will never know me, never know how my love for him has grown all the years of our forced separation.
May 16, 1807
Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
Thea felt slightly sick as she and Drake entered Merewether Shipping's office for the second time since she had arrived in England. The prospect of having Ashby Merewether's nephew arrested left her feeling hollow.
Had the thefts been the only consideration, she would have simply fired the man without a reference, but he had hired someone to kill her and she could not be sure that Uncle Ashby was safe even now.
The corridor leading to Emerson's office echoed with the sound of her and Drake's footsteps as well as those of Hansen, Barton, and the two Bow Street
Runners who accompanied them. Drake had insisted on bringing the Runners along to take Emerson into custody.
Certain Drake would have preferred to execute his own kind of justice, she hadn't argued. Emerson faced prison and possible exportation to Australia, but if he only knew it, those options were far more lenient than other ideas Drake had expressed.
Lightly tapping on Emerson's door, she and Drake waited for an invitation to enter. When it came, her husband pushed her behind him and entered the room first.
Emerson sat at his desk, either oblivious to his predicament or a consummate actor.
He smiled when they entered. "Congratulations on your recent nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Drake. I read the announcement in this morning's paper."
Thea could not believe this jovial man was responsible for the thefts and attempts on her life. He sounded so terribly sincere in his happiness for her, looking almost smug about it.
Then his eyes widened at the sight of the Runners as they came into the office. His smile slowly slipped away.
"I worried Uncle's plan would go awry like this, but he was sure you wouldn't call in the Runners." He looked nervously between her and Drake. "There's something I believe you need to know."
Drake removed his driving gloves. "Unfortunately for you, we've already figured it out."
"I've told them the truth, Mr. Merewether," Barton inserted.
Emerson looked at Barton as if his brains had gone to let. "The truth?"
Thea's heart filled with aching sadness. "Uncle Ashby is going to be so hurt."
Drake stood beside her, emanating anger, his glare causing Emerson to flush. Sweat beaded at the young man's brow, and he dabbed at it with a handkerchief.
"I wouldn't mind doing the old man a little harm myself right now." He looked at the Bow Street Runners. "I assure you, their presence is unnecessary."
Thea had gasped at Emerson's first statement, unable to credit such a lack of loyalty. Now she glowered. Did the man have no conscience at all?
"On the contrary. Their presence is eminently necessary. My husband might be tempted to mete out his own brand of punishment were they not here. You should be grateful I insisted on bringing them along."
Emerson frowned, dabbing at his brow again. "You mistook my meaning. Please, if you will allow me to explain, all of this can be cleared up."
"No explanation is necessary. Your behavior speaks for itself." Drake shifted beside her, and Emerson flinched as if in preparation for a blow.
"Take him into custody." Drake's tone dripped ice. The Bow Street Runners moved forward, but Emerson jumped from his chair and backed away, his eyes widening with obvious fear.
"Please, if you would just let me explain." He looked imploringly at Thea.
She hardened her heart against the man who looked so much like her adopted uncle. "It's no use denying the charges. The evidence is not in your favor."