The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  Cornelius ate freely and happily, warding his dominating success silently over Leah as she barely touched her rotating plates. Course after course came, and her answers to his pointless questions were short and stunted.

  Cornelius could see the irritation building in Juliet as Leah continued to reach for the wrong utensil and provide abrupt conversation. Kenneth tried to keep the peace with his jovial tune, and Cornelius laughed heartily along with his nephew. He was feeling complete victory again, and it emboldened him.

  After the meal, Kenneth and Cornelius retired to a study for brandy. Cornelius watched his nephew's comforting look to Leah as they left her alone with Juliet. He had to go about this carefully.

  “Another brandy, Uncle?”

  “Of course, dear boy, there we are.” Cornelius took the refill. “Say, your protege seemed a bit quiet. From what you have told me, she is not usually so.”

  “Forgive her, Uncle, I fear the formal dinner was overwhelming for her. You know how my mother can be.”

  “That I do.” Cornelius chuckled. “If she is to offer her story to peers, then she will have to become more accustomed.”

  “I am aware.” Kenneth replied. “I am sure it will be a slow process.”

  “Perhaps I could speak with her, apart from the influence of you or your mother.” Cornelius suggested.

  “Alone? Are you sure?” Kenneth seemed startled by the suggestion.

  “Trust me.” Cornelius sat up further in his chair. “I have a way with people.”

  “I cannot argue that.” Kenneth laughed. “I shall see what form of needlework my mother is forcing upon her.”

  “Good, good, very good.” Cornelius laughed out as his nephew left the room.

  As soon as he was alone, he stood up from his seat. He set the brandy down and inspected his cuff links and adopted a more serious tone in his jaw. It was a sort of ritual he practiced before interacting with the criminal element of society, that he liked to call buttoning up.

  “Miss Benson, for you.” Kenneth said, swinging open the door.

  “Come in, dear girl.” Cornelius gestured, then waved a friendly goodbye to his nephew. The door clicked behind her as she inched into the room, standing as far from him as she could without being in the hallway.

  “It's you.” she whispered.

  “No, it is you, Miss Benson.” Cornelius retrieved his brandy and stood with his shoulders back, dominating the space in the room. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  “I think you know that already.” she held her ground. He respected that.

  “When I heard Riphook had lost you, I caught a bit of a fright.” Cornelius admitted, swigging down his glass. “But then I heard you were dead, a regrettable thing, but nonetheless it brought me security.” He began to slowly pace towards her, his hands falling to his sides. “Imagine my surprise to see you strolling through the gardens with my nephew.”

  “Imagine my surprise,” Leah echoed. “to see a no good murderer walk in the door.”

  “Oh, you are full of wit, aren't you?” He drew closer. “Listen to me, Miss Benson, and listen well.”

  He came within a few feet of her and she backed up against the door; she had nowhere left to retreat to.

  “I do not enjoy having a woman killed, I think it is immoral and wrong, yet sometimes it can be necessary. Are you with me?”

  She nodded, pale faced. No doubt she understood exactly who he was to Riphook, and no doubt that terrified her.

  “So, you're going to disappear, do you understand? It won't do me any good to have my nephew distraught over his mistress' murder, but I can easily console him if he is abandoned by her. Make no mistake, I could kill you here and now, but I will not. I will let you go, because you understand the way the world works. You know that a story about a Lord running a criminal empire won't mean shit out of the mouth of a lone, low-life woman. You know the slander would only hurt poor Kenneth more. You know that the only thing left for you to do, is leave. Because if you don't, or if you pop up in the Netherlands with a tall tale, you will be killed, alas, I believe you know that already.”

  He stared down into her piercing eyes as he delivered his terms. He had no true intention of letting her live; he knew that she would be smart enough to run away, and smart enough to keep her mouth shut, but he would send people after her. He couldn't take the long-term risk of exposure, but he was confident that he had just purchased plenty of short-term coverage.

  Now he had to be off to London, to get a message to that idiot of a crime boss, Riphook. How did he let her just slip through his fingers? He has never been the careful type.

  “Do we have an accord?” he hissed quietly.

  “We do.” she managed the words out.

  “Good.” He promptly turned back to his brandy glass and walked to the decanter. “Now go on, Miss Benson, get out of my sight.”

  She turned and dashed through the door, letting it swing open behind her. Cornelius saw Kenneth watch her go by with a worried expression.

  “What did you say to her?” he seemed cross as he burst into the study.

  “Relax, Kenneth, take a breath.” Cornelius was an expert at talking Kenneth down. “She's had a bit of indigestion this evening, don't fret about it. That's why she was so quiet at supper. I only told her, there's no shame in lying down for a spell, rest until you are well, go on! So, there you have it, she had to make a run for the pillow.” Cornelius waved his hand as if it were nonsense that Kenneth would have suggested otherwise.

  “Oh.” Kenneth's sails had been abruptly put in irons. “I had not thought of that.”

  “You must always think of every possible reason for something to happen.” Cornelius poured another drink for the two of them. “If you are ever to take my place, you must become more aware of other people's motivations.”

  “You still have much to teach, Uncle.” Kenneth smiled, and toasted.

  “And perhaps I will until the end of time.” Cornelius put down the glass. “When will Miss Benson be returning to the city?”

  “Perhaps later this week.” Kenneth sighed. “I could not convince her to stay.”

  “It is nothing to cry over.” Cornelius patted Kenneth on the shoulder. “You will see her yet. Do you know what I shall do?”

  “What shall you do?”

  “Write me when you know of her departure. Give to her your coach, and have the driver meet me around the corner from our office. I shall see that she is well adjusted, and comfortable.”

  “You would do so?” Kenneth was radiating joy.

  “I would and I will.” Cornelius grinned. I expect her to run away, but it is best to have all possibilities accounted for.

  “Thank you, Uncle, it is so much appreciated.”

  “Oh, it is no bother, truly.” Cornelius suddenly checked his time piece. “Dear me, I must be off then.”

  “Off? But you've only just arrived!” Kenneth protested.

  “I know I am dreadful in that respect.” Cornelius yawned. “But business never sleeps, despite what you may think. I have promised you dinner, and so I have given it.”

  “Of course, I understand,” Kenneth sounded disappointed. “I am sorry you had the misfortune to join us when Miss Benson was not at her most well.”

  “Another time then, surely.” Cornelius began to make ready to depart and sent a nearby footman off for his coach. “The body will play us for a fool when it is least convenient. Bear it no mind.”

  “Then I suppose you are away.” Kenneth surrendered.

  “Do not forget to write me, Kenneth.” Cornelius clasped Kenneth's hand briefly, and left the room.

  Cornelius made for the front door, catching Juliet quickly in the den to bid her a fair evening. She was cross at him leaving, just as she was cross at him arriving, but nevertheless they bid each other a fine farewell.

  As the coach pulled away, Cornelius spied Leah in her second-story window, watching him. He waved her goodbye with a devilish grin, and then sat b
ack in the seat for the uncomfortable ride.

  “Everything will settle just fine.” he breathed to himself, and shut his eyes for a nap.

  * * *

  Kenneth was sorely disappointed to see his Uncle leave in such a hurry, yet he could not put that over his concern for Leah. He felt shocked and ashamed for not realizing the state of her condition earlier. I should have been far more attentive.

  “He's gone already.” his mother exclaimed, rounding the corner. “What's to be done when you invite a man to supper, and he leaves within the second hour?”

  “Mother, I haven't the time.” Kenneth tried to move around her.

  “And that woman, Miss Benson. When is she leaving, Kenneth? She is unbearable. Uncultured, and ill-mannered.”

  “Mother, would you cease for yet a moment?” Kenneth could bear it no longer.

  “How dare you!” she pushed back.

  “I am the law of this house, and I will not be questioned at every turn!”

  “And yet the law must beware corrupting influences.”

  “I cannot hear this, I must care for Leah.” Kenneth moved past his mother.

  “Is it Leah? Or Miss Benson?” his mother called after him. He could see her shaking her head as he rounded the banister.

  Kenneth sprang up the staircase. He was worried for Leah. Confirming their mutual affection that day had brought him a sense of completion that he did not know he lacked. It was not as though he was missing part of him before; it was more like a piece of him had been added atop everything else, binding it together.

  Now, with her suffering, no matter how slight, he felt as if his entire being was in jeopardy. He had to ensure she was well.

  Kenneth reached her door and gave it a gentle knock.

  “Leah, are you well?”

  “Go away, Kenneth.” she said through the door.

  “I mean to help.” he offered. “What can I bring you?”

  “I do not wish to see you, Kenneth.” she called back.

  “Go on Your Grace, shoo on, go.” Mrs. Redford hurried up to the door, waving his away. “I'll handle this, Your Grace, go on.”

  “Of course.” Kenneth ducked away, growing hot and red in the face. He felt terribly embarrassed. It was certainly not his place, at least not as they currently stood. Had anybody else been present, it would have been the next point of gossip about London.

  Unable to settle as the night progressed, Kenneth withdrew to his office. He slouched low in the tall chair and poured himself several drinks. His mind rambled away while his heart interjected, and in his worrisome state he fell asleep sitting up.

  * * *

  Leah was in distress. She paced back and forth in the small room which she hated, moving her hands from her sides to her head absentmindedly.

  She was in a complete panic. Everything had gone wrong. She had thought that she had bought perhaps a week or two to slink off into London and make her way to France, despite how heavy it would make her heart. That was just another sacrifice she would have to make to survive.

  Now, everything had exploded at once. The mystery man that Riphook reported to – the only person Riphook reported to – knew who and where she was.

  Leah was smart enough to know that he was going to send some thugs after her. There was no way she would ever be able to outrun his influence. Her only chance was to get as far from the Worthington estate as humanly possible.

  Suddenly France didn't seem nearly far enough. She began to formulate a plan to stow aboard an Indian merchant and start anew in Ceylon, or some other obscure and foreign place. Perhaps Australia? That would be ironic. Somehow, she still managed to make herself pause for a moment and smile. Australia. A continent of criminals. Suddenly it didn't sound half bad.

  “Leah, are you well?” She could hear Kenneth through the door. No doubt that old snake had told him some lie about indigestion, or worse, 'woman's discomfort.'

  “Go away, Kenneth.” she answered. She could not bear to see him, for she knew she would destroy him no matter what she chose.

  “I mean to help, what can I bring you?”

  Damn him for being so good!

  “I do not wish to see you, Kenneth.” she stood firmly. If she saw his poor face, ignorant to all the wider troubles, it would break her heart.

  She could hear Mrs. Redford ushering him away from the door, and this brought her a brief reprieve from her sorrow. She had always enjoyed the company of the older, jolly housekeeper. It was as if she never had anything poorly to say about anyone or anything, and she had always treated Leah with gentle kindness.

  “Miss Benson, dear?” the sweet old voice came through the locked door. “What seems to be the matter?”

  “It is nothing I cannot handle on my own, Mrs. Redford.” Leah answered, wiping a tear from one of her eyes.

  “You ring if you need anything, dear, anything at all.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Redford, you are very kind.”

  Leah heard her footsteps descend the staircase and fall out of earshot. Her gaze fell to the window a final time, and she saw the last plumes of orange light fading into purple majesty above the hills and trees.

  I will have to wait for total darkness, Leah formulated her plan. And when the house is asleep, I will steal away from this place.

  Her line of sight followed the long road stretching down from the manor home, and winding into the thin trees. She followed it until it vanished into the blurring greens and browns of the landscape.

  It's a long walk to the London road.

  Leah let out a deep breath, running her hands over her rib cage. While mostly healed, she knew the strenuous hike off of the Worthington estate would test the limits of her endurance.

  From the road I'll find a coach or a wagon that will take me. A hay or beef cart would nearly always let you hop aboard for a mile or so. Only if you knew what to say, that is.

  I'll take the long way 'round, avoid the boroughs around the South Gate. Make straight for the river docks. Don't stop for anybody.

  She imagined the wharf, running along the piers and thinking about which ships would be in their slips.

  Then it's just downriver to the sea and onto Australia.

  Leah lingered in the window, watching the birds fly by like she had from her sickbed. She watched the sun set to completion and waited for the darkness to settle into every corner.

  It's time to leave. It must be tonight.

  Chapter 18

  Nash was in a terrific mood. After confirming with the good Doctor Fowler that Leah was once and for all, dead, he had gone on his merry way to meet Riphook.

  “You're sure of it then?” Riphook picked a roasted duck apart with his gnarled hand while popping grapes into his mouth with the other.

  “Yeah boss.” Nash said, holding his hands behind his back as properly as he could. Someone had once told him to always stand as if he were a gentleman, even if he weren't. It just might get you places, they had said.

  “The old doc came through, eh?” Riphook let his face fall towards his plate. Dropping the grapes, he used both hands to pry apart the perfectly-cooked duck. “I'm surprised. Didn't think he had it in him.”

  “Well you said he would, boss” Nash played along. “so of course, you were right.”

  “How'd he do it?”

  “Poison, I suppose.”

  “Bah! Of course, he did.” Riphook shoved a chunk of meat into his mouth and chewed obnoxiously. “That's that then.”

  “That's that, boss.”

  “Bugger.” Riphook kicked back in his chair, planting his boots directly beside his plate of roasted duck. “I can't say I'm glad to see her go. Special woman she was.”

  “Yeah boss, a real good thief.”

  “Smart, too.” Riphook lamented. “I had high hopes for her, I did. She had to go and throw it all away, and for what? For some low-level fence who shared his bread with her? Maybe I was wrong along, maybe she never really had what it takes.”

  “What it
takes, boss?”

  “To roll this rig along.” Riphook drained down a shot of alcohol and poured another beside his boots. “Now I'm starting to see, someone like you, someone like you might got what it takes.”

  “I got what it takes, boss.” Nash could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. This was the most praise he'd ever received in his life. He felt suddenly as if his life had more of a purpose, like he had found new drive that he did not know he could ever hope to find. “I swear it.”