by Regina Darcy
“Only so that I may preserve my reputation,” she replied with forced gaiety. “If you do not know who I am, my name cannot be bandied about the secret corridors of power where gentlemen gather.”
“Do you think that I would malign you?” the Earl asked quietly.
“No, of course not,” she answered immediately, eager to dispel his suggestion that she distrusted him. “But a young woman must protect herself from idle chatter that could lead to scandal. You might intend to say nothing, but our captors know that I was with you. From such links a scandal could grow.”
“Two of those captors are dead,” he reminded her. “The third is quite likely trying to defend himself against Ainsworth’s temper. Will you not at least tell me your name so that I may address you as something other than ‘dear lady’?”
“My name is Ann,” she lied. It was her aunt’s name, and a common one. He could search the length and breadth of Devon and not find her among all the girls named Ann who lived there.
“Ann,” he repeated. He didn’t sound convinced that she was telling the truth, but he did not challenge her. “Very well then, Miss Ann. I propose that we prepare to take to the road again, now that we are fed. You make an excellent dining companion in our bucolic inn.”
“And you are a most gracious host,” she returned with a smile. “And cook.”
Laughing, the two of them proceeded to dismantle their makeshift camp.
SEVEN
London
3 days later
“Don’t bother to announce me,” the Earl said to the butler who had opened the door to admit him. “I’ll announce myself.” He moved past the butler who was too startled to protest, and strode into the dining room. He had dressed for the occasion and wore his Hussar uniform, with his sword at his side and a pistol at his waist. His ire was not eased by the fact that, three days ago, his traveling companion, the engaging and spirited young woman whose life seemed to be wrapped in a series of unlikely explanations, had vanished before they reached the city. He had been tempted to pursue her, but he was on the King’s business and he could not delay.
“Ainsworth!” he called out as he opened the doors and admitted himself.
Baron Ainsworth revealed his dismay for an instant, but then the mask of geniality replaced his alarm.
“Ah, Fitzsimmons, how good of you to come by. Are you leaving for the Continent? I am sure that Wellington will be delighted to see you. No doubt he has been pining for you. How could he hope to fight Napoleon without you?’
The guests at Ainsworth’s table showed their bewilderment at the unannounced entry of the famous Earl of Hemsworth. The resultant conversation did not alleviate their confusion.
“It is the enemy on the home front that concerns me now, Ainsworth. You are a traitor!”
Several of the guests gasped at the incendiary words. Ainsworth’s features took on a visage of rage. His lean, almost ascetic features were knitted together in a mask of anger.
“How dare you, sir!” he demanded in a loud voice. “I do not care if you are tenth in line to the throne of England. You are not the King, nor are you Prince Regent. While there is justice in England, you shall pay for your audacity. You may not invade my home and speak to me thus.”
“Admit your perfidy and render the King your apologies. Perhaps, if you display genuine remorse, he will forgive you and spare you from the executioner.”
Ainsworth stood up.
“You dare to speak to me thus? Do you think that, because you are Wellington’s pet and a member of the royal family, you have leave to berate a man for imagined vices? You, who left the battlefield because of a supposed injury, dare to name me a traitor? I call you coward!”
“Call me whatever you like,” the Earl answered coolly. “You have betrayed your king and your country and you may not excuse yourself for your actions.”
“I demand satisfaction for your slander,” Ainsworth declared. “I shall send my second to you this very night, and we shall meet on the day after tomorrow.”
The Earl knew that he could not reveal what he had learned of the plot to overthrow the King.
Upon his return to London, he had reported to the Prime Minister, and the Crown was in the process of assembling the evidence against Ainsworth and his cronies, but they were, of necessity, working in stealth so that the complete case could be brought against the Baron with an irrefutable charge of treason.
He had come to Ainsworth’s home in an attempt to startle him. Frightened men made mistakes. The Prime Minister knew of his intentions but had warned him that Ainsworth was dangerous and the Crown could not protect the Earl if something went awry before the case against the Baron was pieced together.
The Earl was not ordinarily reckless, but upon realising that Ann had left him while he slept, stealing away from the abandoned croft where they had taken shelter, he had discarded caution and felt that challenging the Baron in his own home was exactly what he wanted to do. It was easier to be ruled by anger than by heartache.
The Earl bowed. “I await the arrival of your second,” he said and left the room.
As he did so, he could hear the reactions of the Baron’s guests. One man said in a concerned voice, “Sir, do you not know that the Earl of Hemsworth is counted as one of the best shots in England?”
The Baron smiled as if he knew something that no one else did. “My cause is just, and I am not afraid,” he said piously. “The Earl is in the wrong, and I shall be proven right. He will wish that he had not left the battlefield as he did. What a farce, showing up here in the garb of a soldier when it is known that he left of his own accord.”
“The Earl has a pristine reputation as a man of honour,” another guest pointed out. “He is not merely a member of the royal family, but a personage in his own right. I wonder that you are so confident.”
Again, the Baron smiled. “I assure you that I shall emerge the victor from this duel that has been forced upon me. But remember that we must needs duel in stealth. I ask all of you to say nothing of what is going to take place. But if word should get out, pray let the authorities know that he came to my house and insulted me. I had no choice, as a man of honour, but to respond in the expected manner.”
The guests agreed that what the Baron said was so. Fitzsimmons had indeed been the aggressor in the altercation, for reasons which were known only to him. What an accusation to make. To accuse the Baron of treason was, indeed, a slur that could not be ignored. A duel was the only way to settle such an insult.
Unaware and not caring that he had left consternation in his wake, the Earl went home to his London manor and had a message sent to Percy Tennison.
Great-Aunt Agatha was in the drawing room. “Where have you been?” she demanded, seeing him in his uniform.
“Playing provocateur, Aunt,” he said. “I find it has made me hungry. I suppose supper has already been served?”
“It has, but Cook will send up a cold supper for you. Where the devil have you been this past week? You left without a word. Not three days ago, I awoke in the morning to the news that you had returned to London from wherever it was that you had been. Really, Charles, to come and go in such a furtive manner when, for all we know, Bonaparte is preparing to invade our shores is most thoughtless of you. I expect you to maintain a presence here and calm the fears of the staff.”
“I think, Aunt, that Bonaparte would not dare to trespass upon this residence as long as you are here,” the Earl said, amused.
His aunt gave him the faintest of smiles, then returned to her topic. “Nonetheless, as you are no longer a soldier, why are you wearing your uniform?”
“I paid a call upon a gentleman who needed to be reminded that England is not undefended even though her forces await battle.”
“You are speaking in riddles,” Great-Aunt Agatha complained. “You know how much it annoys me when you do that.” There was a knock on the door. She turned to look at the person who intruded on their conversation. “Yes, Carstairs, wha
t is it?”
“Viscount Tennison, my lord, to see you.”
“Ah, Percy, I’ve been expecting him. Please direct him to my study. I shall be there immediately. Aunt, will you ask to have that supper tray delivered to my study?’
“You’re up to something,” Great-Aunt Agatha declared, her sharp eyes piercing her grandnephew with a bright, bird-like gaze. “I can always tell, you know.”
“Aunt Agatha, I am up to nothing more than an appetite and a meeting with a comrade. There is no need to make matters mysterious.”
“I shall find out, you know. I always do.”
“You shall find out that I hope Cook sends up sufficient pickled tongue to appease my appetite. And a bottle of ale. Two bottles, I am sure that Percy will join me.”
“He always has, since you were lads at Eton,” Agatha said, scrutinising the Earl. “Are you going to tell me what’s afoot or are you going to make me find out?”
“Aunt Agatha,” the Earl said, his hands on the doors as he prepared to shut them, “I would not dream of denying you the opportunity to go on a quest for information.”
“Hmph!”
The smile that the Earl had donned for his great-aunt disappeared when he left the room. Percy was waiting in the study.
“Word is out that you’ve been challenged to a duel because you called Ainsworth a traitor!” Percy said without preamble. “Is it wise to expose him so soon, before anything can be proved?’
“I thought it best to flush the fox out of his lair,” the Earl said. He sat down in one of the deep, cushioned wing chairs by the fire.
April had arrived, but the days were cool and there was a warm fire burning. It was odd that, after days spent out of doors in the company of a young woman whose absence he felt so strongly, he was aware again of mundane things like the cold. He had gotten used to it while they travelled together to escape the clutches of the Baron’s henchmen.
He had gotten used to the cold, and foraging for food, and hiding. He had gotten used to Ann’s company. In her presence, such details did not matter.
Where was she now? Would he find her again after this duel had been fought and justice served? Why was she so elusive? Who was she?
EIGHT
Percy agreed instantly to serve as the Earl’s second, although he did not disguise his worry. “Why proceed with it?” he asked after Carstairs had brought in their supper. The meal was a waste of time, in Percy’s opinion, as he had no appetite when he thought of the events to come. “It’s mere days until the Prime Minister can gather the information that he needs to charge Ainsworth with treason. Why not take flight?”
The Earl took a long draught of ale. “Percy!” he chided. “Would you have me dishonour the reputation of the regiment?”
“You are no longer in the regiment any more than I am. We follow a different standard now, and I remind you that we have already lost colleagues in this endeavour. Will you be the next?”
“Your lack of faith in my marksmanship offends me, Percy,” the Earl said with humour.
“Ainsworth is not going to meet you on the field,” Percy replied impatiently. “He knows your reputation, and he’s a coward. But he’ll have a plan, that I’ll warrant, and that plan could put a bullet through your heart.”
“Eat up, Percy, I can’t have my second fainting tomorrow. You’ll procure a physician?”
“Yes, of course, I’ll take care of all that. It’s not the first time I’ve been a second at a duel, you know. Not for you, of course, you’ve always had far too much sense, until now, to be dragged into one of these cursed farces. I’ll get Timmons. He’s an obliging chap and discreet. You’ll choose pistols, I assume.”
The Earl nodded. How absurd it all was, he thought to himself after Percy had left on his errands of duelling protocol.
Percy was right, of course, the Earl should have held his temper and allowed the Prime Minister to methodically work behind the scenes in order to trap Ainsworth with hard evidence.
But thoughts of Ann continued to intrude. After the duel, and after the Prime Minister no longer had need of his evidence, the Earl vowed that he would head straight to Devon and find the mysterious young lady who had entered his life entirely without warning. He would find out who she was and why she was so sparing in providing details about her identity. After the duel, he could proceed with his own life again.
It seemed that for these past months, his life had belonged to duty, and his duty was to England. But when duty released him, he intended to follow his heart.
***
Unaware that she was the object of the ruminations of the Earl, Gemma Blake had continued to walk after she slipped away from her rescuer.
She had gone to an inn and procured a room, feeling quite daring and bold to do so with no male escort to arrange the reservation for her. The inn looked to be respectable and the innkeeper gave her a long, measuring scrutiny before accepting her coin. Perhaps it was because there were empty rooms, Gemma thought as she followed the maid to the room, and he needed the custom more than to adhere to propriety. She had chosen an out-of-the-way inn where traffic would be light and the risk of being seen reduced.
She ordered hot water for a bath, a hot supper, and a pot of tea. There was nothing to be done about her clothing. The best that she could do was to try to wash out some of the dirt. Once she was clean again, she found that she could think more clearly. A hot supper of shepherd’s pie restored her to strength and, if not precisely optimism, at least a readiness to decide her fate. It was time to consider her options.
She could travel to Devon and speak to the vicar, who had known her parents. Perhaps he could find a position for her as a governess with one of the local families. To be sure, she was not arriving in the most optimum of circumstances, with no conveyance, no chaperone, no letters of reference. But she had the good character of her family and perhaps that would be enough.
What was the Earl doing now? She wondered about him that night as she lay in a warm bed for the first time in days, with pillows beneath her head and linens keeping the chill of the cool spring night away. Had he brought his revelation to the Prime Minister and was Ainsworth even now captured? Was the Earl safe? What if he had not made his way to Buckingham Palace to warn the King’s ministers of the imminent danger?
His life was in danger because of what he knew, and Ainsworth did not sound as if he were the sort of man, from the details that the Earl had provided, to prove faint if murder proved to be the solution he sought. She knew the truth. She was the one who had been with the Earl, sharing his captivity and his escape. She was the one who could confirm his innocence and his information.
She could not go to Devon while the Earl was in danger! She had to go to his aid. She had been a fool to leave him.
He had done his utmost to rescue her when she was in need of rescuing, but she had not reciprocated. At least, she thought as she tried to fall asleep, she knew where he would go.
***
The next morning when she approached the guards at Buckingham Palace, they found her tale amusing.
“I am looking for Charles Fitzsimmons, the Earl of Hemsworth, who was sent on a mission by the Prime Minister!” she persisted. “He has come here to save the King,” she added.
“Reckon he’s done a right good job of it, Miss, because His Majesty is inside, safe as houses. Can’t say where this Fitzsimmons chap is, but you run along now and see if you can find him.”
“Don’t make sport of me!” she ordered. “I am here on an urgent mission, one of dire consequences if I am not allowed to relay my message to the King.”
“Do you think anyone can just walk up to the King and ask for the time of day?” the guard wanted to know. “Don’t you country girls know anything? His Majesty doesn’t consort with the likes of you.”
“I have been in the company of a man who has been charged by the Prime Minister to unearth a plot against the King!” Gemma insisted. “Will you not help me deliver my message so that
the King will be saved?”
“Oh, the Prime Minister is it?” repeated the guard, mocking her words. “Why didn’t you say so? The King and the Prime Minister, all waiting on you to save them. Fancy that. What d’you say to that, Bertie?”
His fellow guardsman pretended to consider. “I reckon that with all the soldiers heading off to Europe to tackle Boney, now we’ve gone to enlisting the ladies. They’ll protect England with their knitting needles, that’s what they’ll do.”
He and his comrade found this uproariously amusing. It was plain that they had no intention of regarding Gemma’s message with serious attention.
“If you will not attend to me on this matter, will you at least tell me where I may find Baron Ainsworth?”
“Oh, so she’s settling for someone else, now. Can’t find the Prime Minister or His Majesty, so now a Baron will do.”
“Not just any baron, you dolt!” Gemma exclaimed. “I am searching for Baron Ainsworth. He means to do the Earl harm.”
“You and this Earl seem to be the best of friends.”
“Like as not, all this bit has seen of this noble bloke is the inside of his bedroom—”
Gemma’s hand made sharp, stinging contact with the guard’s face. “Nothing improper passed between the Earl and myself!” she retorted angrily. “How dare you insult his honour in such a manner? He is a gentleman!”
The guard rubbed his jaw. “Tell you what,” he said finally. “I’ll tell you where you can find this Baron. All you need do is leave us alone and get off with yourself.”
“I shall be delighted to do so. Where may I find him?”
The guard gave her directions to the location of the Baron’s London house. As she left, she heard him laughing. It was a troubling state of affairs, she reflected, when a threat to the King’s person was received with laughter and a complete disregard for his safety. Did the fools not realise that if harm came to the King, England would suffer?