The Reluctant Rake

by Jane Ashford

  His heart burning within him, Sir Richard left the house and returned to his own. All of his faculties were concentrated on how to find Julia. He did not even notice his mother’s barouche draw up behind him as he rode around to the stables. But she watched him go with deep concern and sought him out as soon as he came inside.

  “Richard, what is wrong?” she asked at once.

  “Nothing to worry you, Mama,” he answered.

  “How can I help it when you look so…frightening and you won’t even tell me where Thomas is.” She came forward to clutch his sleeve. “Richard, has something happened to Thomas? You must tell me!”

  “No! He is perfectly all right. He is visiting friends in the country.”

  “What friends?”

  “Mama!” He nearly shouted it, and she drew back, startled. “I beg your pardon. But you must trust me. Thomas is well.”

  Lady Beckwith surveyed him. “But you are not.”

  He turned away. He had decided that he would not tell his mother, or Julia’s parents, of the kidnapping unless it became unavoidable. He hoped to bring her back before they could miss her. He did this not only to spare them pain, but also to limit even more the chances of gossip. He did not imagine that any of them would spread the story, but the more people involved the more likely it was to become known. He had made Thomas swear not to speak of it to their mother. Now, he looked down at her with affection as well as impatience. “It is nothing you can help with, Mama. I will be better by and by.”

  “You told me all was well with you and Julia,” she said, unable to let go.

  “We are completely reconciled,” he said, suppressing the pain that the sound of her name brought.

  Lady Beckwith nodded. “But, Richard—”

  “Mama, I swear that if you can help, I will call upon you. And you must be satisfied with that.”

  She hesitated, examining his face, then looked down. “Very well.”

  “I am going riding,” he added, and left her standing alone, staring at the door he closed behind him.

  Eighteen

  At about the same time, in the country, Bess sought out Thomas Beckwith as he was leaving the house. “I must talk to you,” she told him.

  “Later. I am on my way out.”

  “No. It must be now.”

  He looked impatient. “We are searching to the west, Bess. Shea has already gone.”

  “I know he has; that is why I must speak to you now. I don’t want him to hear what I have to say.”

  Thomas frowned. “I’m sorry, Bess, but looking for Julia is—”

  “A waste of time! You’ve found nothing with all your questioning, and you won’t. We must try something else.”

  Her tone made him angry. “Indeed? What?”

  “That’s what I am trying to tell you!”

  Thomas fell silent, and they looked at each other for a long moment. “All right,” he said then.

  Bess looked down. “Come into the front parlor.” When she had shut the door behind them, she turned and folded her hands before her, gazing at them as if for guidance. “Julia’s gone because of me,” she began. “If I’d never come here, she would be all right.”

  “It is not your fault,” replied Beckwith, but automatically, in tones that suggested they had been over all this before.

  “I mean, he was after me, not Julia,” she continued. “So I can get Julia back.”

  She had his full attention now.

  “I’ll go to…him”—she couldn’t bring herself to say his name—“and offer to take Julia’s place. I stay if she is let go.”

  “Richard won’t allow it,” was Thomas’s first reaction.

  Bess sighed. “Very likely. So I won’t tell him. Or Michael. But you must see it’s the only chance to find her.”

  He was frowning. “I don’t see. It would never work, Bess, even if I went along. Which I won’t. He wouldn’t release her; he would simply take you as well. I’ve been thinking. He can’t just send Julia back, you know.”

  Bess gazed at him in disgust. “Any fool could see that,” she declared. “But we’ll find out where Julia is. He’ll take me there. You follow and discover the place, then bring help.”

  “Oh.” Thomas thought this over slowly. “I don’t like it,” he concluded finally.

  “Nor do I,” Bess assured him. “It makes me sick to think of seeing that man again. But it’s the only chance.”

  “If you should get away from me,” he objected.

  “You must take care that I don’t!”

  Thomas frowned. While he very much liked the idea of finding Julia himself, and making amends for his slip in town, the plan repelled him. Using Bess as bait, to put it baldly, was not an idea he could easily accept. Yet their search had turned up nothing, and every moment that passed made the situation worse. “All right,” he said at last.

  “We’ll go to town at once,” replied Bess. “I’ll go to his house, and you follow. You must take great care not to be seen.”

  “What if he is not there?” protested Thomas. “I’ve been thinking about that, you know, because of Richard. It’s very unlikely Fenton has returned to town. When he found they had taken Julia, I expect he went to ground.”

  Bess merely nodded. “I know what to do.”

  “Indeed? What?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You just keep careful watch.”

  Thomas objected again, but Bess would only insist that they leave at once, and finally, he gave in. With only the flimsiest of stories to the servants, they set off on horseback for London well before Michael Shea was due back. Bess knew what his opinion of her plan would be, and she did not want to meet him.

  They reached town early that evening, only three hours after Sir Richard’s visit to Lord Fenton’s house, and they proceeded directly there. Thomas warned that if they paused at the Beckwith residence, their plan would undoubtedly be discovered. He did not trust his ability to keep it from his mother and brother.

  At Bess’s insistence, they separated outside the fashionable neighborhoods, and she rode forward alone, with Thomas keeping out of sight behind. The looks she drew might have intimidated a lesser woman, or one with a less important mission. Bess ignored them so completely that she was not accosted.

  At Fenton’s house, she did not go to the front door. Rather, she slipped off her horse at the mouth of the alley that led to the mews and, after making certain that Thomas had seen her, walked quickly along it until she was at the back gate. There, she hesitated a moment, as one hesitates before plunging into cold water. Then, taking a deep breath, she went forward. Something she had heard during her imprisonment took her to the stables in the mews. She slipped through the gate and into a cobbled yard, across it, and inside the stable block. Immediately, she heard sounds.

  “Searched the whole place, he did,” said a rough, cracked voice. “Shoved right into the kitchen. Gave old Ma Cramer a fright. But he didn’t come out here.” Liquid noises, as of a bottle being upended, punctuated this speech.

  “So he didn’t find out nothing?” asked another, deeper voice.

  “Nah. None of them in the house knows.”

  “You be sure it stays that way.”

  “When have I ever blabbed?” was the surly reply.

  Satisfied, Bess moved, stepping around the corner to enter a small, low room at the back of the stables. The two men sitting there with a jug between them leapt up, overturning their stools, and stared at her. But the nearer and younger of them recovered quickly and advanced. “Who might you be?” he demanded.

  Bess returned the gaze with raised chin. “I’m the girl you were sent to snatch in the country,” she answered. “You took the wrong one.”

  “Damme,” exclaimed the old man in the background.

  “Shut up,” growled the older. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” he told Bess.

  “Yes, you do. And I’ve come to strike a bargain with you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You made a mistake,” she interrupted. “But I can fix it. Take me to Lord Fenton. Sure, he’ll be pleased that you’ve gotten it right this time.”

  The man stared at her, stupefied. “What’s your game?” he asked after a moment.

  “I want my friend let go,” replied Bess. “I’ll take her place.”

  He worked this out slowly, and a crafty expression crossed his face. “A trade, like,” he concluded.

  Bess nodded.

  “Trade,” cackled the older man. “More likely his lordship’ll—” He was cut off by a shove of the table into his stomach and subsided with a grunt of pain.

  “Say I agree,” added the other, “and then your friends jump me as soon as I stick my nose outside.”

  “No. There’s no one outside.”

  The man considered her. Bess could see that he did not believe her, but she could also follow his thoughts from the expressions that passed over his face. Her friends would not be interested in him, he obviously reasoned. They would want the girl and his lordship. There was a chance of a substantial reward and a clean escape before things got rough. And after all, he was only doing what he’d been hired to do—snatch the girl. He nodded to himself. “Right. You have a horse?”

  Bess nodded again.

  “Let’s go, then,” he turned. “And you. Keep quiet!”

  “I ain’t one to blab,” repeated the old man.

  Bess followed the man through the stables to his own mount, and then out into the alley again. She mounted at the block there, and they rode together along the narrow way and out into the street. There was no sign of Thomas, but that was as planned. Bess fervently hoped that he was in place and prepared to follow. Now that she was actually on her way to Fenton, she was frightened and reluctant. Thomas, waiting in another alley across the way, allowed them time to get well past, then slipped into position.

  They rode through London in this way, Thomas in continual fear of meeting an acquaintance and being detained. He kept his hat pulled well down, however, and no such incident marred their progress.

  Once out of town, Thomas’s presence became more obvious, and he had to drop back further to avoid giving himself away. Had he but known it, Bess’s escort was not taking any particular pains. This opportunity had fallen into his lap, and he was not on his professional mettle.

  It was late by the time they approached the house where Lord Fenton was staying, and Bess and Thomas were both tired from a long day of riding. As she turned in at the gate, Bess gazed back in time to catch a comforting glimpse of him as he moved quickly behind a grove of trees. Then she bit her lower lip and went on to face Fenton.

  Thomas urged his horse through the undergrowth and up to the low wall surrounding the house. This had to be the place, he told himself, but he wished he could be certain before turning back to get help. If only he could see Julia, he thought. But the windows of the house were empty and uninformative. At last, he shrugged and turned his mount. The horse picked up speed as it retraced its steps through the trees, and Thomas spurred to a gallop as soon as they reached the road again.

  Nineteen

  Bess’s escort took her around to the back of the house and in at the kitchen. She was grateful for the delay, and had to remind herself fiercely of Julia’s plight before she could step over the threshold. Inside, another man sat at the kitchen table with a mug between his hands. He looked up in astonishment when Bess appeared, then turned to her companion.

  The latter grinned. “Another un,” he said. “Where is he?”

  The man merely indicated the front of the house with his thumb.

  Bess shivered, but made herself move. They walked through a bare corridor past an uncarpeted stair. A door to the left stood open, and her escort gestured toward it. Bess took a deep breath and went in.

  Lord Fenton stood before a long window, looking out into the darkness.

  His back was to them, and his hands laced together behind. The mere shape of his head made Bess want to turn and run, but she held her ground while her companion first shuffled his feet, then coughed, to gain Fenton’s attention.

  “Yes?” was the impatient reply. “Haven’t I told you not to come unless I call?” He turned, and was transfixed in amazement.

  His hireling enjoyed the moment to the full, then said, “Is this the one, then, guv?”

  Bess took in the set of enflamed scratches down his face and felt a little better.

  “Where did you find her?” Fenton said finally.

  “Well, now, actually, guv…”

  “I found him,” finished Bess. She had to take control of the situation, she felt, or lose it forever.

  Fenton stared. He looked, thought Bess, like a man who had received a number of surprises in a short time. She felt an insane desire to giggle.

  “I came because of Julia,” she added, steeling herself to remain steady and meet his eyes.

  He seemed to consider this. “You may go,” he told the man, who went out with every sign of disappointment. Fenton turned to Bess again.

  “I’ll stay, if you let Julia go,” she said. Even though she knew this was a ruse, the idea made her queasy.

  “You came here alone?” was his reply, in a tone of utter disbelief.

  Bess shrugged; she must do this very well, she thought, or he might escape before Thomas could bring help. “I knew none of them would let me come if I told them. They’re all so upright.”

  He watched her face. “How did you find this place?”

  “I heard you talking…before. You told one of the men that he should come to the stables if he ever had to contact you.”

  “So you went to Joe?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Your stables, in London,” answered Bess. She used every ounce of courage she possessed not to falter and ruin all.

  Lord Fenton gazed at her a moment longer, but now that the initial surprise was past, he clearly wanted to believe that she was indeed in his power again. A smile had been emerging and vanishing about his lips, and his eyes were glowing with unholy glee. Along with the scratches that adorned his dissipated face, this made him terrifying. “A rescue, eh?” he said, and laughed a little.

  Bess did not reply.

  “Very gallant. Perhaps you would like to see the object of your efforts?”

  “Julia?”

  “Come along,” said Fenton, obviously enjoying himself. Bess could almost see the plans blossoming in his mind as she followed him up the stairs and waited while he unlocked a door. He was thinking of two girls together.

  He threw it open with a flourish and stood back. No one was visible inside. Bess stepped forward, and saw Julia standing rigid in the far corner of the small room, her fists clenched at her sides. “Bess!” she said in stupefaction.

  “Are you all right?” was the quick reply.

  Julia nodded automatically, too amazed to say more.

  “You know one another,” said Lord Fenton, shutting the door and leaning his shoulders upon it. “So very odd. But then, Beckwith has astonished me several times in the course of this affair.”

  “Let her go,” blurted Bess, turning to face him in front of Julia. “She has nothing to do with you.”

  “But she does.” Fenton’s hand went to his wounded cheek. “She is to be my wife. And you…” He smiled. “You will be part of our household, perhaps the scullery maid. Yes, that is the place for you.”

  “It was me you meant to take,” protested Bess. “I’m here. Let her go.”

  “You must realize that I cannot do that, even if I wished to,” he replied. “No, we shall all remain here for a time, contemplating our future happiness and becoming even better acquainted.” His eyes ran over the two women
slowly. “The three of us,” he added, as if testing a new, fascinating concept. “Yes. You are remarkably alike, you know, in coloring, though quite different styles, of course. Piquant.”

  They simply stared at him, Bess outraged and Julia uncomprehending.

  “I’ll have preparations made,” he concluded. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long.” With a disgusting leer, he went out, locking the door behind him.

  “Bess, you shouldn’t have come here,” exclaimed Julia then. “But how glad I am to see you!”

  “Are you really all right?”

  Julia nodded once again. “You didn’t come alone?” she asked with painful eagerness.

  Bess started to reassure her, then stopped. Someone might be listening; she couldn’t be sure. She gave Julia a sharp look.

  Julia didn’t get the message.

  “You mustn’t eat anything they bring,” replied Bess instead. “He has probably gone to prepare some drug. He gave it to me before. We cannot even have water.”

  “Too bad,” insisted Julia, trying to smile. “I am so very hungry.”

  “Why didn’t I think to bring something?” wondered Bess.

  “A kind of picnic?”

  The two women burst into wild laughter. The sound of it made them both stop short.

  “What are we going to do?” said Julia then. Her voice trembled.

  “We’ll be all right,” insisted Bess, but silently she hoped that Thomas was not far off.