Marianne and Nora were staring at her with worried expressions.
Mena fixed skirts that didn’t need fixing to hide their trembling. She’d been prepared to face anything that Morgan had to show, but not Marianne or Nora. Something about the situation frightened her a little, but she fought to not let it show as she looked into their eyes. “Do you have evidence against my uncle?”
Nora touched Marianne’s hand and said, “I’ll go first.” She then turned to Mena. “We don’t have evidence in the sense that there is something to show you. All we have is our own words.”
“And I’m supposed to believe them?” she asked.
Marianne frowned and spoke before Nora could. “You don’t have to believe us, but if you feel anything for Morgan, the least you can do is hear what we have to say.” She sighed deeply and said, “This is not easy for us to talk about, but we’re willing to do it because we care for Morgan.”
Mena swallowed and straightened her shoulders. “You’re right. I’ll listen.” But she didn’t think she’d be swayed by words. There were enough words printed in the papers about her uncle. She looked at Nora and waited.
Nora pressed her lips together and asked, “Do you recall why Morgan first wronged you in his office?”
Mena nodded. “Yes, he thought I’d been sent on some errand to wrong him.”
“Well, at one time, I worked for a very bad man and didn’t know it. This man planned and plotted murders.”
Mena’s eyes widened as she looked into Nora’s pale blue eyes unbelieving. “You will not tell me that this man was Creed.”
Nora shook her head. “No. In fact, your uncle was against the murders planned.”
Mena smiled. “Of course, he was. My uncle is not a criminal.”
“No,” Marianne said. “He’s simply not a fool and knows better than to kill people with titled bloodlines.”
Mena frowned and fought not to roll her eyes.
Nora touched Marianne’s hand again, squeezed it, and continued, “I was in Creed’s sitting room when he told us.”
Mena's heart skipped. “You were in his sitting room? Impossible. He never lets anyone go there.”
She shook her head. “I never saw where he currently lives, but two years ago, Creed had me kidnapped and taken to his house.”
Mena was already shaking her head before Nora finished. “No. I don’t believe you.”
“I remember everything about the room.” Nora’s own eyes filled with determination. “I’ll never forget anything about that night. I remember how finely the room had been decorated. Every fixture had been done with pure gold. It was like walking into a palace. The carpets were obviously of good quality and the chandeliers caused the light to bounce around the room like stars.”
Mena had stopped breathing while Nora spoke. “Anyone could have told you what the room looked like.”
Nora closed her eyes and said, “I even remember the feel of the couch. It was plush and soft. I fell into it easily.”
Mena knew that feeling. She’d loved Creed’s old house. She’d even loved his couch.
She didn’t know what to say, but Nora went on.
“If the circumstances had been better, I would have thought the room lovely, but most things stop being pleasant when there’s a gun at your head.”
Mena stilled. “My uncle pointed a gun at you?”
Nora shook her head and opened her eyes. “No. One of his guards did as he bargained for my life.” Her voice wavered as she said, “Creed traded me back for a crate of cigars from Cuba.”
Mena recalled a large crate at her uncle’s residence and the smell of spiced tobacco. Still, she found it hard to believe. “My uncle wouldn’t do such a thing. If anything, he’d have told that man to lower his gun.”
Nora laughed and said, “He did.”
“You see!” Mena looked at them. “My uncle is innocent.”
Nora shook her head. “But he only said to put down the gun because he knew his guard wouldn’t. That’s how he remains innocent, Philomena. He tells his men that they all work for themselves, yet though it was a guard who’d pointed the gun, it was Creed who would have given the order for the trigger to be pulled.” Nora was trembling, and Marianne pulled her into her arms until the trembling subsided.
Mena stared at them and said, “You must understand that I still find this hard to believe.”
Maria said, “Then there is no question that your uncle has done me wrong.”
Mena leaned back in the chair. After Nora’s story, she was slightly exhausted. Nora was obviously frightened of Creed, but it didn’t mean that what took place truly happened. Perhaps Nora had seen something else. However, Marianne’s gaze didn’t give her any comfort. Mena grabbed the chair arms and prepared herself. She nodded when she was ready.
Maria stared at her and stood. “Can you have your carriage called for?”
“Why? Would you like to go somewhere?” Mena sked.
Marianne seemed to know where her sister was going with it and said, “Just have the carriage called for and have it go to the alley.”
Mena nodded and stood to pull the bell. She had no clue what sort of game Marianne was playing at, but she would go along so that the game would end soon.
But the end results would hurt. She’d not give up Creed, and Morgan would let her go.
She put those thoughts away the moment a footman appeared. She gave him instruction and then Maria began to speak again.
“A few years ago, I raced carriages.”
This, Mena found hard to believe. Maria was the gentle one of the Kay sisters. Everyone knew so. “You raced carriages?”
“And she was quite good,” Marianne cut in.
Maria smiled at her sister and went on. “I was good. I won almost every race, which Creed didn’t like. One night, he cornered me in my carriage, had my guards beaten into submission, and threatened my life if I didn’t lose the next race.”
Mena laughed, which she saw made the other woman narrow her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“The carriage the man that Creed wanted to win had a specially hidden boot designed to store away priceless possessions.”
Mena stopped laughing. She knew about that secret compartment because she recalled Creed placing something into it before sending her off to Hanover. She’d never known what the items were, but she’d been amazed that the carriage had so much hidden space. Space enough to hide a whole man. “I’m sure my carriage isn’t the only one with such a design.”
“It was stolen from the palace,” Marianne told her. “I would know. I’d seen it plenty. I work at the palace.” Marianne was a lady-in-waiting for Princess Victoria.
“And I’ve seen that carriage’s backside plenty myself,” Maria said.
“My carriage did not belong to Princess Victoria,” Mena said finally. “Creed bought it for me.” She remembered him presenting it to her. A carriage with a team of horses was a very costly gift. Many ladies couldn’t afford such a thing for themselves. Sometimes families shared a single team, but Mena had her own, and she’d been overjoyed when he’d gifted to her.
She’d not have these women ruin that memory.