The offensive seemed to be working, for the mood of the gangsters changed dramatically. They became instantly cooperative, even apologetic. Who is this man that they believe a Lord could be working for him? Kenneth's head was beginning to spin. Everything seemed upside down.
“We were on her tail this mornin'.” Gopher began, glancing nervously between the ground and Kenneth. “Almost had her but she broke my elbow and got away.” Gopher's face was bright red. He was clearly embarrassed.
“She broke your elbow?” Kenneth asked, smiling inside. I knew she was in trouble. I must find this Riphook, but to ask them about him will destroy my image. “How?”
“Got knocked over. Gopher muttered, scratching the back of his head.
“Unbelievable.” Kenneth shook his head. “You are a disgrace. Go tip the tall keel over a pint of blue ruin and forget you ever worked for Riphook,. he spat out the words. The aggressive attitude was working, but it had to hold.
“Please, sir!” Gopher sank to his knees. “Don't tell Rip 'bout me botchin' it, please sir!”
“You call him a Lord.” another thug interjected.
“Do you have any idea of where she might've gone?” Kenneth pressed. “Tell me or Riphook will hear of it.”
“She ran off into the old sewers, Lord.” Gopher sobbed. It looked as if he thought he were begging for his life. Is that how quickly a life can change in this place?
“The old sewers?” Kenneth blinked.
“The Roman tunnels.” Gopher went on. “They go all over, under the river even. She could be anywhere.”
“Blast it.” Kenneth turned his horse away from the criminals. They are terribly easy to fool. “You're all done for the day.” He waved his hand. “Now out of my sight.”
They jumped aside as he rode out of the market. So, she is alive!
Kenneth spent the remainder of the day searching city streets. Up and down the blocks of London he rode, looking out for Leah's bright green eyes around every corner.
Yet he could not find her. He began to despair that this Riphook had found her already, and that she was dead for a reason he did not understand, and the rage he birthed at the entertainment of that notion spurred him onwards.
Who is this Riphook? Kenneth asked himself over and over while he rode, building intense resentment towards this faceless man who haunted his love.
I am going to kill him, he thought. He imagined a hundred-thousand faces that could be this Riphook, and the lack of a proper fixation drove him into further anger.
Dripping over the backdrop of anger was his encompassing concern for Leah – it was like a bucket of viscous anxiety that had been spilled over his chest and was slowly working its way down through his stomach. What if I am too late?
All day long he searched, and into the evening, to no avail. At the end of it, heartbroken, he returned to a place he found familiar. He lashed his horse beside St. James’s Square, and walked with a heavy heart to the Ten Drums public house.
He found the door shut and locked and was about to turn away when it clicked open.
“Oh goodness! Worthington!” His friend the Marquess laughed out as he opened the door. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“Winchester.” Kenneth replied, not at all in the mood for any of his antics. “Whatever are you doing here? The establishment is closed.”
“So, it is.” The Marquess smiled. “I bought the place! Come in, come in, have a drink!”
Before Kenneth could protest, the Marquess had swept him indoors.
“So, you purchased the property? Or the lease?” Kenneth said, trying to divert the Marquess' conversation from his own well-being.
“Only the business.” Winchester replied. “Come, have a drink with me.” He ushered Kenneth to the long, sturdy bar and unceremoniously poured them both by reaching over the counter.
“I suppose so.” Kenneth took the ale and looked down into the cup. He was entirely depressed by his inability to find either Leah or Riphook and knew that he needed to take some rest before continuing his search. His horse at the very least, needed some serious recuperation.
“That's the spirit, Worthington, take the drink.” Winchester was elated.
“Did you buy the business today?”
“I did indeed!” the Marquess laughed out.
Splendid. Simply splendid. He will surely want to celebrate, and I have no time for such things.
“What was the price?”
“A fair enough one.” His friend laughed. “Let us drink to the new owner, shall we?”
“Very well.” Kenneth accepted the toast, smiled politely, and drained his whole drink in one go. Perhaps I shall have another.
Six pints of ale later between the two of them, the Marquess had concluded informing Kenneth as to every minute detail of his acquiring the Ten Drums public house.
Kenneth had barely listened to a glint of any of it, and merely kept cheering the Marquess along with more flagons of ale. He became quite aloof and bubbly as he finished his third flagon.
“But what of yourself?”
“Hmm?” Kenneth squinted.
“I did not think you to be in London. How is you have come to my door?”
“I did not know it was your door.” Kenneth joked, setting down his flagon. “I was searching for someone.”
“Who might that be?”
Kenneth realized that he had just let slip the nature of his time in London. He had meant to keep it secret, for he did not know who he could trust, nor did he wish to discuss the matters of his heart with the Marquess.
And yet, he sat there after three pints of good ale and heartbroken and full of rage and anxiety, Kenneth told the Marquess everything there was to tell.
The Marquess listened intently for some time, and he did not once interject as Kenneth rambled on.
At the end of his confession, Kenneth felt a fool to have shared all of his secrets. Although on Winchester's face before him, he did not see the judgment that he had so expected.
Instead he looked pensively at Kenneth, as if he were weighing a great number of factors against each other before speaking.
“Well then.” he said at last. “Whatever are we doing in here?”
“Pardon?” Kenneth only blinked in his haze. It was not the reply he was expecting.
“I say!” The Marquess exclaimed, leaping up to his feet. “Never before have I heard such a tale of the heart!” The chair fell over backward behind him as he struggled for a pause to maintain his balance. “You cannot give up hope now, man! We must find this Riphook and bring him to justice!”
“Bring him to justice?” Kenneth challenged. “I cannot even say I know where he is, let alone what he looks like.”
“From what you indicate,” Winchester went on, “he must be a person of high standing, mustn't he? The thugs in the market, you say they acted as if you were their employer.”
“It's true.” Kenneth chewed his lip. “And yet, we cannot go about accusing every man of social standing that appears suspicious.”
“Certainly not.” Winchester huffed. “We should pay a visit to Judge Roberts.”
“The magistrate? You don't suppose he has any sort of inkling?”
“He is sworn to uphold the law of God and Country, is he not?”
“Only when he is paid to do so.” Kenneth snorted. “And he will not take a case, paid for or not, unless he is assured of its success.”
“Well.” Winchester retorted. “We cannot know anything inside this establishment, can we? Let us be off! Out and on our way and see this magistrate ourselves.”
“Right you are!” Kenneth stood, feeling his confidence renewed. The positive reinforcement supplied by the Marquess of Winchester had done immeasurable things for Kenneth; not only had his actions been validated by someone of his social standing, but by someone who truly cared for his emotional health, and so, Kenneth knew again that he would prevail.
The two of them walked out onto the street, and Winchester locked th
e door behind them.
Night had fallen in earnest, and the oil lamp posts glowed out through the encroaching darkness all around them. They walked two blocks to St. James’s Square, where Kenneth had left his horse.
As they stood in the square beside the great fountain under cover of night, a nearby commotion caught their attention.
There were people there, Kenneth could see them now, barreling out of the south entrance.
There were four or five of them, rushing, chasing after one another, and at their front was Leah.
“It can't be.” Kenneth whispered, turning towards the procession.
“This is uncanny.” the Marquess muttered, suffering from apparent deja-vu.
“Leah!” Kenneth cried out, rushing forward to meet her.
It's him! Kenneth saw Nash close behind Leah, pumping his legs hard to catch her. I shall not let him hurt her this time.
In a fluid, familiar motion, Kenneth took his pistol upward from beneath his coat as he paced towards them.
“No!” Leah screamed, vaulting forward into Kenneth's arm.
The shot went off, and the sound of it rang out brightly in the square. The bullet smacked into the flagstone and shot off in a ricochet while Leah and Kenneth fell over each other.
“Oh my!” the Marquess gasped, going stark white.
All the thugs in pursuit stopped in their tracks.
“Scat!” one of them shouted, and they scrambled back out of the square, likely to avoid the possibility of more incoming fire. Kenneth was the only one among them armed with a pistol, but the thugs were obviously oblivious to that fact.
“What are you doing here?” Leah huffed, pulling the two of them to their feet.
“Trying to rescue you!” Kenneth retorted, snatching up his discarded pistol. “I thought him to be your enemy!”
“As did I.” Leah glanced back to Nash, then returned her gaze to Kenneth. In her eyes he saw that spark of life he had thought to have lost.
“That shot will call the Parish watchmen.” Nash breathed heavily, checking his body over for bullet wounds and finding none.
“We have no time for any of this!” The Marquess cried out. “Quickly! Back to the Ten Drums.”
“He's right,” Leah said. “We have to keep moving.”
Kenneth felt completely unsatisfied with the reunion, such as it was, and felt hot in the face as Leah and Nash dashed past him to follow Winchester.
Biting his lip, Kenneth took one last survey of the square. Sure enough, there was a stir on the far side as a group of Parish watchmen arrived to investigate the pistol shot.
“Bugger.” Kenneth spat, and jogged after the trio.
They made a stealthy entrance into the public house through the side passage, and only once the door was shut and bolted behind them did Kenneth see Leah relax her shoulders even an inch.
Then as they all shuffled in, Leah's eyes met with Kenneth's.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again. Her face was cold and tensed, and Kenneth suddenly felt his rage again flaring up beneath his nervousness.
“What am I doing here?” Kenneth retorted incredulously. “How can you say that? Why did you leave in secret? What danger are you in? Clearly something of a serious nature, and yet you chose to steal away rather than confide in me?”
“Confide in you?” Leah's face grew suddenly red as her temper flared. “As if you are a scholar with all the answers? Everything to you is so simple in your blindness! I had every right to leave!”
“But why?” Kenneth stressed, pounding his fist against the bar. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw that Nash and the Marquess had retreated to a corner booth. “What is so truly terrible about this Riphook that you should run away in secret? It broke me in two, Leah!”
“How very nice it must be to only be broken in two pieces.” Leah snapped back. “I can take care of myself! At least a fair bit better than you.”
“I should say so! And what of when I found you? You would have died!”
“Perhaps I should have!”
“Are you not glad to see me then?”
“I am glad! And that is all the more maddening! You should not have come!”
“So help me God, Leah, I have come for you because I love you deeply, and I will protect you from whatever evils that may strike out. Why can you not believe me?” Kenneth felt his anger dying as he finished his sentence, and he began to slump into despair.
Was I wrong about everything? Does she even care for me at all?
Leah looked at him with those great green eyes, and they took up a gloss like she was about to cry. “Can you protect me from your uncle?”
“My uncle? What are you talking about?” Kenneth blinked awkwardly; it was not at all the answer he expected to hear.
“It's him, Kenneth.” she said softly, stepping closer to him. “He's the one who wants me dead. He's the one that Riphook works for. He's the one that controls all the gambling houses and brothels and thieving rings all over the city.”
“Cornelius? Why, that's absurd.” Kenneth couldn't quite make sense of it all. The words were coming out of her mouth, but they were swimming about in his ears like a goldfish in a small bowl.
“It's true, Kenneth.” Leah whispered, drawing up in front of him. “At your house, he told me that if I disappeared, he'd forget all about me. I think it was just a way to get me back into the city, but I couldn't stay there any longer. Not after that. Dr. Fowler was meant to kill me with poison, but he warned me instead. Just my luck your uncle showed up right after.”
“Dr. Fowler? How? At dinner...” Kenneth mumbled, slowly piecing together the threads of her narrative. It was a painstaking process, because everything inside him screamed out that this was wrong, that Cornelius was an upstanding fellow. Yet he trusted her words more than anyone else, and they began to take root.
“I didn't know it was him until that night.” Leah went on. “Riphook took me to a meeting with him once when I was younger. I shouldn't have been there. I'm the only one that has seen them in a room together.”
“No, no.” Kenneth shook his head in disbelief. “No, it cannot be. You are mistaken, clearly...” the room was spinning in Kenneth's mind, and he clutched at his temples.
“I am not mistaken.” Leah responded firmly.
“But it makes no sense.” Kenneth protested. “He is an upstanding gentleman! He is my friend! My Uncle!”
“Of those, he is only the latter.” Leah touched Kenneth's shoulder. “This is why I left in secret. I knew that you would not be able to accept this.”
“I–” Kenneth had no words. His world didn't seem to match together any longer. He had before him two conflicting narratives, both of them convincing.
“He tried to kill me Kenneth.” Leah moved her hand from his shoulder to his hand. “Think for a moment. You know nothing of his life before your father's death. How did he come into his wealth? And in the end of it, do you choose to believe him or I?”
“I believe you.” Kenneth began to cry. “And yet I cannot.”
“You must, or you must go.” Leah bit her lip, as if she were holding back tears.
“That.” Kenneth wiped the tears from his face and put a smile on his reddening face. “I simply cannot do.” At the end of it all, his love for Leah overpowered his skepticism. If she says he is evil, then by God, he must be.
Rage began to build within him again, bubbling over and broiling – the anger he had reserved for Riphook now spilled over in the idealized image of his Uncle, shattering the glass and washing away the muddied oils from the canvas.
“You believe me then?” There was a shadow of a tear in the corner of Leah's brilliant green eyes.
“Of course.” Kenneth realized the truly despicable nature of his uncle's shadowed life. How could I be so blind? “You're the only one who can go before a magistrate against him. The only real threat he's got.”
“That's it,” Leah let out a long breath. “That is the truth of it all. So,
you see why I have to get away.”
“You cannot go away, especially now.” Kenneth became firmly resolute once more, assembling himself for what he was about to propose.
“Did you not hear a word I have said? We cannot resist your uncle. He is too powerful.”
“I am powerful.” Kenneth slammed down his fist again. “More than he at any rate, and I will not see this gross abuse of justice go on unhindered! I will not surrender you, Leah, to his dark machine, for firstly I care much too strongly for you, and secondly I must right the wrongs within my own house.”
The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 23