Grayson handed her a quill and opened the inkwell on his desk. He briefly explained each paper before she signed it, then Robert Evers signed each paper after her. The judge asked her to place her hand on the Bible and swear to tell the truth. He explained the consequences of perjury then asked her to tell him about her father’s death. Within a few minutes, everything was done and the judge left with Robert Evers close on his heels leaving Charlie alone with Grayson.
“I want to congratulate you on your story. I thought it was more convincing than the first time you told it. I guess you’ve had time to practice,” he said in a condescending drawl.
“You still think I’m lying?”
“I’m no fool. There is no way you can convince me that you met my brother two weeks ago and now you are going to marry him. I am not going to stand still while you take advantage of him. Over the last five years, he has been through too much rejection and heartache and I’m not going to stand by and watch while you lead him on and blow through his money.”
“You disgust me, Grayson,” Charlie gritted. “How dare you? What you’re saying is because he has a scar on his face, I couldn’t possibly love him? Is it just me or can no woman love him?”
Grayson looked thoughtful for a moment as though carefully considering the question. “There’s a woman out there who could overlook his scars. But that relationship is going to start as a friendship and grow into a fondness. This ‘attraction’ you have doesn’t ring true.”
“Grayson, just because you can’t see past that scar, you think nobody can. When I look at Jax, I only see his eyes and his features. To me that scar is like a moustache, I see it, but it’s just there. It doesn’t detract from his looks and it certainly is not who he is. I can’t believe you’re questioning my love for him. You should be happy that we found each other.”
“I’m questioning more than that. I don’t believe any of it; not the ship, not the money. I think you are some man’s cast off who saw an opportunity to better your situation. You saw Jaxon and knew just by looking at him he would be an easy mark and you took advantage of the situation,” he said tersely. “I’m leaving for Charleston immediately and I’m going to prove you aren’t who you say you are.”
“Then why even have me sign these papers?”
“In a court of law, one must have proof of wrong doings. When you signed these papers and swore in front of the judge, you put the nails in your coffin, sweetheart. I’m going to prove if there is a Charlie Sinclair, you are not her or him.”
“That’s fine, Grayson, go. The harder and deeper you look, the more you’re going to find. Talk to the old-timers. Talk to the doctors and find the one who delivered me, and the one who treated my burns after our house burned down.”
Grayson met her gaze. “And when was this supposed house fire? I would think something like that would have made the newspapers. And most newspapers have archives.”
Charlie paled. She hated to think that there was a written record of that fire. She’d always thought her secrets were safe as long as she kept them to herself.
“It-it would have been seventeen years ago—sometime in the autumn,” she said casually. If she sounded upset, she knew he would pick up on it and that would be exactly where he would start.
“Find the orphanage where I stayed until my father came home from sea. I know there are people in Charleston who knew me before the fire and after my father forced me to pretend I was a boy. You just have to find them. And when you find your proof, I want you to go to the harbor and find out if my ship has come home. Leave these two letters with the harbormaster, one with the post office and this one leave at the bank. Leave half the money from the business account. I don’t want Dr. Kirk to think I’ve stolen anything from him when he comes back. It’s a long shot, but I have to hope that someday the English will release him and he’ll make his way home.”
“What names are these supposed accounts under?”
“Mine is under Charlie Sinclair. My father’s should be under John Sinclair and the business was run under the name Sinclair-Kirk Shipping Company.”
“It would be under Charlie, not Charlotte or Charlene?”
Charlie’s expression went blank as she tried to remember if she was called something different when she was a toddler. She could only remember being called ‘Honey’ by Gertie, their housekeeper. It was irrelevant. That account had been opened when she was much older.
“It’s under Charlie unless someone at the bank wrote it down as Charles since I was a boy when I opened the account. If I were you, I’d always refer to me as ‘he’ when you’re in the bank. No reason to make this more difficult than it’s going to be.”