The Balfour Hotel Series, page 37
"Yes, Mr. Cassidy," they mumbled and separated.
As they had said, Joaquin was easily found, wandering the halls with a crystal decanter in his hands.
"What in God's name are you doing?" Samuel hissed, seizing his arm and marching his brother back toward the bedchamber he had arranged for him. Samuel knew he had no right to utilize a room on the fourth floor when he hadn’t the money to pay for it, but he had hoped his brother would simply do as he was told, remain unseen, and none would be the wiser. Now, he would need to find the means to cover the cost of the chambers because the staff had clearly seen Joaquin wandering about.
"You cannot silence the truth, brother!" Joaquin cried drunkenly. "It will prevail."
Samuel firmly clamped a hand over his mouth and half-dragged him along until they were secured in the rooms.
"Have you taken leave of your blasted senses?" Samuel gasped, his words escaping in short, uneven rasps. "You will see me terminated! You will see yourself taken to the barracks as an imposter!"
Joaquin grinned at him.
"What would you care? You only remained in Luton because of me. If I were locked away, you would be free."
Samuel's mouth became a line of anger.
"I cannot say why I care," he growled back. "For it seems you care about none but yourself."
Joaquin's mouth parted, his eyes narrowing defensively.
"How dare you say such a thing! I came here hoping to avenge father and—"
"You came here expecting a bag of gold for your silence," Samuel interjected. "I followed to stop you from blackmailing a decent woman."
"Decent like Lorna Hastings?" Joaquin retorted. "I daresay, Santos, you haven't the foggiest notion what makes a decent woman."
"Do not speak of Miss Hastings again, Joaquin, or I will have your tongue removed from your mouth."
The older sibling seemed stunned by the threat and he lunged his head forward, his depth perception skewed by the amount of liquor he had consumed.
"You fancy her, this imposter you are protecting? Why is she so important and your brother is not?"
"Joaquin, gather yourself, and I will see you off the property," Samuel said, ignoring the question. "I made a mistake bringing you here."
He desperately wished he had heeded his gut and removed Joaquin at the first sign of trouble.
"I will not go," Joaquin wailed, his voice taking on the pitch of a small, angry child. "I have just as much right to be here as you."
"Joaquin…"
"If you force me to leave, I will tell them who you are, Santos. I will tell them everything."
"You would not dare," Samuel replied. His tone was even, but his pulse raced through his veins. There was truly no reasoning with Joaquin in this state. Perhaps it was best to simply stay until his brother fell unconscious from the drink.
"I would dare," Joaquin insisted. "Why would I not?"
"Every cent I make, I send to you!" Samuel snapped furiously. "If you oust me here, I will be as poor as you."
For a moment, the words seemed to make sense to Joaquin, but before Samuel could be sure, his brother smirked.
"Good," he said gruffly. "Then we will return to Spain."
"You may return to Spain!" Samuel yelled. "My home is here. My life is here!"
Nora is here, a small voice cried out.
"You are treasonous, acting like an Englishman," Joaquin muttered. "Stopping me from avenging our father. How can we be cut from the same cloth?"
It was a question Samuel had asked himself many times before.
"If you regard me with such contempt, Joaquin, perhaps you should move along."
Joaquin's mouth curled into a sneer, and he shook his head.
"I would never do that, hermano mio," he purred. "You are my brother, and family remains together."
Samuel realized then that he would never succeed in removing his brother from the property without a fuss and without arousing attention. His heart was in his throat as he thought quickly.
"Joaquin, you must sleep off this nonsense. You make little sense, and frankly, you are upsetting the servants and guests alike. On the morrow, I will see you out before anyone notices."
"No!" he muttered, folding his arms over his shoulders and glaring ruthlessly at Samuel. "No, Santos, I am not going anywhere. If you stay, so will I."
"We will discuss it in the morning," Samuel growled. "And you must stop calling me Santos at once!"
A small sound caused Samuel to whirl, and his mouth gaped open as he saw that they had been overheard.
"Mrs. Compton!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"
Emmeline's eyes were curious slits, her mouth pulled in at the corners.
"Who is paying for these quarters? There is no name on the ledger, but the signature is yours."
Fear plagued him.
"T-the duke of course," Samuel gasped. "I will check over the ledger. I must have made a mistake."
"Yes," Emmeline sighed. "I believe you have. Several, in fact."
Blood was draining from his face, and he stared imploringly at Emmeline Compton.
"Please, Mrs. Compton, there is a perfectly logical explanation for this."
"I believe I heard most of it," she replied quietly, turning to exit the chambers. "The Duchess of Holden is about to deliver her child. The family is occupied for the time being, but you will wait for my father and husband in the office. You will go now…Santos."
The door closed, leaving nothing but the sound of Samuel's labored breathing in her wake. When he could finally move again, he whirled to confront his brother, his face crimson with fury.
"Do you see what you have done?" he roared, but to his chagrin, Joaquin was fast asleep on the chaise.
My life is falling into pieces and my brother sleeps like the dead.
Oddly, his immediate thought was not of his job nor his scoundrel brother but of Nora Chalmers. With him gone, she would have no one in the hotel to help her. Or protect her.
Perhaps she will leave with me, Samuel thought, the notion filling his heart with a strange hope. She had truly grown upon him in such a short time, the need to keep her safe almost overwhelming him. Joaquin snorted loudly in his slumber and mumbled something incoherently as Samuel stared at him bitterly. It was truly his brother's fault that they found themselves there. If Samuel had not followed Joaquin to England, he would never have felt obligated to care for his bum of a brother.
That is unfair, Samuel told himself. Your hand was not forced. You did it because it was expected, even if Joaquin is the older boy.
His entire existence, Samuel had served others without regard for himself. First his parents, then Joaquin, and finally the Balfours. Nora made him feel appreciated, desired and not simply as a servant.
I will not rest until Nora has the answers she requires, he vowed. Even if that is the end of my career and my brotherhood with Joaquin. Nora has come to mean that much to me.
10
Supper ended abruptly when the duchess began to experience pains of labor, causing the family to scramble to her assistance. Samuel had not reappeared, leaving Nora to find her own way back to her bedchambers alone. She could sense something was amiss.
Samuel would not simply abandon me at this juncture, she thought worriedly when he did not call upon her in the hours afterward. She wondered if something had occurred with Joaquin and her apprehension grew.
I must look for him, she decided but before she did, she opened the adjoining door between hers and Joaquin's suite to find him fully dressed and snoring in an armchair.
Instead of feeling relief, more anxiety flooded her, and she hurried out of her quarters and into the hallway. The hour was nearing ten, and there were few souls about, none of whom she recognized.
On the main floor, she spoke with Byron, the night concierge, and asked if he knew where the maître d' might be. She did not want to sneak into the servant's quarters again, lest she be noticed, but where else to look for Samuel? Byron's wrinkled face twisted into a frown of concern.
"Is there a matter in which I might assist you, miss?" Byron asked instead of answering her question.
"Yes," Nora replied sharply. "You might tell me where I can find Samuel Cassidy."
Byron hung his head and fear replaced Nora's worry.
"What has happened?" she demanded, leaning across the counter urgently. "Is he hurt? Ill?"
"No, miss, nothing like that," Byron muttered, glancing over his shoulder toward the office. It was only then that Nora saw that candles still burned inside despite the lateness of the hour.
"Is he in the office?" Nora insisted, her nerves fraying with each word she spoke.
"No, Miss Hastings. He is—"
The door opened and Xavier Balfour appeared, his eyes glittering as he saw her.
"Ah," he cried as though he had found some grand prize before him. "Just the woman I was coming to see. Please, come in, Miss Hastings."
She did not miss the sneer in his tone, and her reaction was to turn around and run, but Nora had no doubt that he would chase and catch her if she tried.
"Where is Samuel?" she heard herself breathe. Xavier's eyes narrowed into slits so small, she could barely see the green of his eyes.
"Samuel?" he echoed. "So, you admit he is part of your wretched ploy?"
"What ploy?" Nora demanded, attempting to keep her voice from wavering, but it was impossible. Her position had been discovered, and now Samuel was suffering the consequences.
I was so foolish. How could I have permitted matters to get so far?
Tears of frustration filled her lovely eyes, and Xavier glowered.
"Come inside," Xavier growled, casting a wary look at Byron. "I would like a word with you."
"I cannot," Nora mumbled, turning away. "I must find Samuel."
"Samuel is no longer employed here."
The words were a slap to her face, and she whirled back around to confront Xavier.
"He did nothing wrong!" she cried. "He…he did not deserve to be terminated."
"He stole from this hotel and brought an imposter to act as your fiancé. I would say he did plenty wrong."
"He was merely helping me!" Nora protested but even as she spoke, she knew she was doing little to soothe matters.
"Come inside," Xavier insisted, and Nora shook her dark head of hair.
"No," she breathed. She had to find Samuel and apologize for what she had done to him. Nothing seemed more important at that moment, not even finding out the truth about her father.
"You will come inside, or I will have you locked away until I can determine a proper punishment for you," Xavier barked at her as she moved away. "The choice is yours, but I assure you, it is quite dank and cold on the subfloor."
Slowly, she turned back around and gaped at him.
I could not be related to this man. I was wrong to have come here at all. No matter what, I will not be a part of this family. They would never accept me.
Yet a flash of Emmeline's warm smile leaped into her mind and the mischievous glint of Charlton's eyes as he stared at her.
"Locked up for what cause?" she snapped, mustering the haughtiness she had learned.
"For being an imposter. I know you are not Lorna Hastings." There was a smugness about him that incensed and terrified Nora, but she did not falter.
"You are wrong," she muttered. "Is that why you have fired Samuel? Because you believe I am an imposter?"
"What is your fascination with this servant, whom you met just two days ago? Perhaps you have known Santos much longer than that."
A gasp escaped Nora's lips.
How did they learn the truth about Samuel? She wondered. Nora certainly had not breathed a word of it to anyone, but perhaps Joaquin had? She recalled how he remained in the suite, asleep and seemingly oblivious to the world unraveling around them.
He might be in danger, too. Did Samuel confront Charlton Balfour about my paternity? Did they truly fire him, or has a more sinister fate befallen him?
Nora nearly doubled over with the thought that Samuel might be hurt.
"You knew about Samuel's secret," Xavier hissed, stalking toward her. "You and he have plotted something together."
"Unhand me!" Nora yelled, yanking her arm away from him. "You know nothing."
"I know you are not Lorna Hastings."
"Show me proof to the contrary," she retorted, knowing he could not possibly have any. "Show me!"
To her utter dismay, Xavier's smile widened and he nodded.
"I will," he assured her. "I was hoping you could be civil and explain what brought you here before I have you taken away, but since you are being contrary, I will simply have you put in the barracks."
He nodded toward Byron.
"Take her."
"You have not proof I am anyone but whom I claim to be!" Nora howled as the elderly concierge rose unsteadily and uncertainly to his feet. "You cannot do this! I demand to speak with your father at once!"
Xavier whipped back about, his face contorted in fury.
"You believe yourself clever," he hissed, sauntering back toward her. "I warned you that we will do everything to protect the reputation of this hotel."
"Where is Samuel?" Nora insisted. "What have you done with him?"
Confusion tainted Xavier's cheeks.
"Done with him?" he repeated. "I told you—he was fired."
"I insist on speaking with both your father and sister at once."
"You have no right to make any demands, Miss Hastings. You are nothing but an imposter who has weaseled your way into our hotel for what? To rob us?"
"I am not your wife, Mr. Balfour," Nora retorted. "I have not come here to steal."
Xavier's face flushed with fury at the reminder, and for a terrifying moment, Nora thought he might strike her but she did not care. She only wanted to know where Samuel had gone.
"If you will not fetch your father, I will do so myself."
"You will remain where you stand."
Nora spun toward the stairs, but as she did, the double doors opened and a handsomely dressed gentleman sauntered inside the lobby, his brow knit in concentration.
"Mr. Xavier!" the gentleman called. "What a relief. What in God's name is happening?"
Nora bounded toward the stairs but Xavier's voice ran out, freezing her in her tracks.
"What is the matter, Miss Hastings, do you not recognize your own father?" he called. Blood drained from her face, and panic overwhelmed her.
Run! she cried to herself, but what good would that do? She was caught. There was only one thing she could do now, which was confess as to her motives.
"Have you nothing to say, Miss Hastings?"
"That is not my daughter," the gentleman growled. "That is not Lorna."
"Oh, I am well aware, Mr. Hastings, but she has claimed to be. She and a trusted employee have schemed against the hotel."
"Have her arrested, then!" Henry Hastings cried, and Nora pivoted slowly from her spot on the stairs to look at them.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Xavier jeered. "You have barely stopped speaking since your arrival."
"I-I…" Nora inhaled deeply and looked at the man who might be her brother, one whom she had never known she had. She found herself wondering what she had hoped to accomplish by coming to Luton at all. The past three years had been consumed with searching for her father, a man who had no shame in being unfaithful to his wife. Christiana had warned her that her search might not end well, that the Balfours were not what they appeared to be.
Nora realized she had hoped to find the affection she had missed with her own father.
I see that there is no love to be had here. There is only heartache at the Balfour Hotel for anyone who enters. I should have stayed away from the start. Instead, I have ruined a decent man, the only decent thing in this hotel.
"Has a cat captured your tongue, woman?" Xavier barked. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
She stared at him defiantly, knowing that she would not go free unless she told him the truth.
"If you tell me where Samuel has gone, I will tell you all you wish to know," she told him quietly. Xavier snorted.
"How would I know? He was also an imposter. I am certain you will both find your way back to one another."
"Xavier, what is the meaning of this?"
Emmeline appeared through the ballroom, her eyes taking in the scene with mild concern.
"Mr. Hastings! I was told you would not be joining us," Emmeline said, realizing they were not alone in the lobby.
"We have been fed lies by a liar," Xavier grumbled. "She is not Lorna Hastings, just as I told you, Emmy."
There was a clear expression of hurt on Emmeline's face, and Nora felt a pang of shame. She bore no ill will toward Emmeline, who had been nothing but kind from the start.
"Who are you?" Emmeline asked softly.
"She is looking for Santos," Xavier continued grimly. "I think they intended to rob us."
Emmeline cast her brother a wary look.
"I only just saw Samuel off the property," she explained. "He is heading into Luton, Miss Hastings."
"She is not my daughter!" Henry Hastings roared. "I am sickened by this. Why do you stand there and do nothing! If you will not apprehend her, I will do so myself!"
With that, he stormed toward Nora and lunged for her before she could move.
"No!" Nora howled. "You must not arrest me. I am Nora Chalmers, and your father is my father!"
Henry Hastings became a statue, his eyes hardening, but Nora's gaze was fixed on that of her siblings.
"What?" Emmeline gasped. "I-is this a joke?"
"She is a liar, Emmy," Xavier huffed, his face scarlet with indignation. "She would say anything to shift blame from her ways."
"It is not a joke, Emmeline," Nora whispered, and when Emmy met her eyes, she could see that the hotelier's daughter believed her. "My name is Nora Chalmers, and I believe Charlton Balfour fathered a child with my mother, Agatha."
"What the devil is this about?" Henry growled. "I have heard quite enough of this nonsense. Where the bloody hell is Balfour? I demand to speak with him at once!"
"Come along, Mr. Hastings," Byron muttered, shuffling toward the incensed man. "I will see you to a chamber and have Mr. Balfour visit you personally."
