“No one will believe you,” Sophie could not help observing.
Her aunt gave a thin smile. “You always underestimate me, Sophia. Everyone will believe it by the time I have finished. Perhaps some good will emerge from this dreadful imbroglio after all. Once your betrothal has been announced, we must consider whether it is best for you and Peregrine to marry in London or in Bath. London, I think. And the sooner the better. “
Sophie realized that even now her aunt was confident of a successful outcome. Eudora was blind to her son’s flaws. For Sophie, the concept of Perry as a charming nonpareil who, after a week or two spent in his company in London, she would be willing to love, honour and obey, was as implausible as it was nauseating. And she had no intention of correcting her aunt’s assumption that Lady Verney was expecting her.
“Well, what have you to say?” prompted Peregrine, swinging his quizzing glass back and forth at the end of its silk ribbon.
At that moment, Olivia, Mr Grey and Theo came in and Sophie, conscious of the way her heart leapt at Theo’s tender look and smile, was glad of the interruption. It appeared Olivia and Mr Grey had met on the landing and come downstairs together. Theo had, as Sophie surmised, already breakfasted and been to the stables.
Peregrine greeted Grey with amiability and Theo with cool civility. He only managed a curt nod in Olivia’s direction. While he explained to the new arrivals what had been decided, Sophie responded to Theo and Olivia’s bemused glances with a sceptical look and a tiny shrug. Mr Grey stayed impassive throughout, a raised eyebrow his only glimmer of interest.
At the end of Peregrine’s discourse, Mrs Sloane said bluntly,
“Olivia, you will be returning to Ludstone with me. Pack your things immediately after breakfast.”
Disappointment shadowed Olivia’s features. “But I don’t want to go back—”
“Don’t argue!” snapped Eudora. “Sophie’s behaviour was bad enough. Do not exacerbate a difficult situation which Peregrine is doing his best to smooth over.”
Olivia’s eyes sparked with anger, but before she could reply, Mr Grey interjected.
“Mrs Sloane, there is a suggestion I would like to put before you.”
Her gaze swept over him. “And what, pray, is that?”
“Miss Sloane goes to London too. You see, I have decided to visit there myself—I have some pressing business to conduct. Sir Seymour Dinniscombe and his wife are good friends of mine. They are in Mayfair at present and would, I am sure, be happy to welcome your daughter into their household for a time. Lady Dinniscombe is a most generous hostess, as well as a willing and eager chaperone. She is always anxious to smooth the path of ladies newly arrived on the ton’s doorstep. Her connections are excellent, too…she counts most of the Almacks’ patronesses among her acquaintances. It would be an opportunity for Miss Sloane to experience London society and, although the place is thin of company at this time of year, enough of the rich and famous still attend the Dinniscombes‘ soirees and card parties to make her stay an amusing one. There can be no suggestion of impropriety on the journey now Peregrine is to be one of the group and, given that additional consideration, I hope you will agree.”
By end of this speech, Olivia was gazing incredulously at Mr Grey. Theo, who had given a start of surprise at the mention of Sir Seymour, wore a puzzled look, while Peregrine’s jaw had dropped. Mrs Sloane looked as if she had been struck by lightning.
Moistening her lips, she was moved to stammer in a faint voice, “D-Did you say Sir Seymour Dinniscombe?”
“Yes.”
“The Sir Seymour Dinniscombe, with a fortune of sixty thousand pounds a year?”
Lucius Grey’s lips twitched. “There is only one, I believe.”
Eudora uttered a gasp and observed in an awed tone to no one in particular, “But he is one of the richest men in England! The Dinniscombes are often mentioned in the society pages. He is a patron of the arts, too, and moves in the highest circles.” Her gaze flicked back to Mr Grey. “Oh, but surely it would not be right for Olivia to go without an invitation? You may be a friend of the Dinniscombe’s, but they will not thank you for foisting an unannounced guest on them.”
“On the contrary, Sir Seymour has extended an open invitation to me in such matters. Their household is renowned as a welcoming one and I know they would be delighted by Miss Sloane’s presence.” Turning to look down at Olivia, he added, “She is delightful company, after all.”
“Well! I don’t know what to say—” began Mrs Sloane,
“Perhaps we should ask your daughter’s opinion,” he murmured.
Sophie, who had been as taken aback as everyone else by Mr Grey’s suggestion, jumped up from her chair and seized her cousin by the arm. “Do say you will go, Livvy!” she urged. “Being there together will be such fun, even if we are not staying at the same house.”
Olivia was still staring at Mr Grey. “Are you certain Sir Seymour and his wife will be happy to receive me?” she asked. “It seems a terrible imposition.”
“You have my word on it.”
“But I haven’t any suitable clothing.”
“Don’t let it trouble you.” A rare smile touched his mouth, and there was the hint of amusement in his voice as he added, “The London modistes fight for Lady Dinniscombe’s patronage and she will enjoy decking you out in style.”
Anticipation gleamed in Olivia’s eyes, yet she still demurred, “But how will I afford it? I have little money.”
“You can draw on Peregrine’s bank.”
Peregrine protested volubly at this, but Grey cut him short with a wave of his hand. “Don’t be a bore, Perry! It will be for pin money only, of course. There will be no other costs for you to bear.”
“You seem to have covered every possible objection, Mr Grey,” said Olivia. “In that case, yes, I would like it very much…if Mama is agreeable.”
There was no danger of Mrs Sloane disagreeing. She was delighted at the prospect of Olivia enjoying an expenses-paid stay with one of the wealthiest, most respected, most tonnish couples in England. Even the prospect of losing Olivia’s services was not enough to put a stop to the scheme. While there was a possibility, albeit slight, Olivia might receive an offer of marriage from one of Sir Seymour’s acquaintances, Mrs Sloane was not prepared to forgo such an opportunity.
“Of course,” she replied, wreathed in smiles. “Go with my blessing! I am only sorry I cannot accompany you, for I should like to meet Sir Seymour and his wife—”
“Another time perhaps,” interposed Mr Grey in a voice that brooked no argument on the point.
“You’re a dark horse, Luc,” grumbled Peregrine. “You never told me you mixed in those circles.”
“Like you, I think it wise not to divulge all my secrets.” Grey raised Olivia’s hand to his lips. “I am completely at your disposal, Miss Sloane”
“T-Thank you,” she replied, a becoming blush tinting her cheeks.
Theo was both pleased and relieved by this turn of events. The ugly scene he had anticipated had not materialised after all. “Well, everything appears settled,” he observed, “but we should be underway as soon as possible if we are to make London by nightfall.”
Mr Grey nodded. “Best be across the Heath before dark.”
No one disagreed and, consequently, a short while later everyone was ready to move out of The Pelican’s courtyard. Mrs Sloane departed first. She was still expressing her disappointment at not meeting Sir Seymour and Lady Dinniscombe as her carriage bowled off down the street. Peregrine set off next at breakneck speed, heading towards London. Olivia, having gratefully accepted Mr Grey’s offer to travel in his curricle, found her protests that Bowyer would face an uncomfortable journey rejected with a crooked grin by that gentleman, who proceeded to perch himself on top of the baggage. Grey set his wheelers in motion with a flick of his wrist and they drove off in pursuit of Peregrine.
Sophie, still astonished at the way the situation had resolved itself, watched them leav
e from Theo’s carriage. There had been no opportunity for private conversation until now and, as soon as her companion had negotiated the courtyard archway, she wasted no time in thanking him again for the previous evening.
“There’s nothing to thank me for. Damn glad you were not hurt! I took another turn about the building with the landlord early this morning and there are definitely no signs of a break-in. Whoever came into your room was already in the building. That doesn’t help us much though. Every room was taken last night and it could have been one of the guests, or one of the servants, even though the landlord vouched for all those. I presume your aunt and cousin made little or no mention of what happened when you saw them this morning?”
Sophie shook her head. “Perry thinks I dreamt the whole thing.”
“Fool!” he snapped in disgust. “And what the deuce made your aunt change her mind?”
Sophie explained, adding with a giggle, “Eudora now expects me to be overcome by Perry’s charm while he escorts me around London.”
“Hmph! We’ll see about that,” replied Theo. “Could your cousin have been in your room last night? After all, he knows you have the jewel and he had been drinking.”
“I sincerely doubt it. Perry does not possess the brains or the daring for such an attempt. And even if he did, there is nothing he can do once I am with James.”
“I’d temporarily forgotten about Verney.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t counting the hours until you can abandon me on his doorstep,” observed Sophie ruefully.
Theo urged his horses on, a grim smile curling his mouth. “I want to ensure you are safe before I relinquish my role. I’ve not been able to tell you until now, but something Grey said earlier reminded me where I have seen him before.”
“Oh? Where?”
“Sir Seymour Dinniscombe is a good friend of mine too. He’s married to my sister-in-law’s aunt, and I went to their wedding. That’s where I’ve seen Lucius Grey before—leaving Sir
Seymour’s London house.”
“After a ball perhaps?”
“No, I passed Grey on the steps one afternoon as he was coming out. We weren’t introduced, but I recall Dinny saying afterward he had just finished conducting some private business.”
Sophie glanced up at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Surely there’s nothing strange in that?”
“Maybe not, but Dinny is a man who dabbles in all manner of things…politics, policing, prisons, secret government committees. I don’t know the full extent of his influence because he never discusses such things openly. He’s a man with a great deal of knowledge and influence though, Grey’s assessment on that was accurate. I’m not sure what seeing Lucius Grey leaving Dinny’s house means—perhaps nothing at all, Dinny entertains all kinds of people—but it confirms there is more to Mr Grey than he would have us believe.”
“Olivia seems disposed to like him,” mused Sophie. “I’m glad she’s away from Ludstone. She’s a different person when she’s free of her mother and brother, but I am concerned if she is to spend more time in Mr Grey’s company.”
“Whatever sort of man Grey is, Olivia will come to no harm if Dinny and his wife, Harriet, are there, but you…” Theo left the sentence unfinished, adding bluntly after a pause, “Well, I hope Verney is up to snuff, that’s all! There’s some strange business afoot here.”
Sophie did not reply. She didn’t know how to. Regret was only one of her emotions as the prospect of losing Theo’s company loomed on the horizon. She was certain now what happened last night was connected with the Star.
The morning’s journey proved uneventful. They passed through Thatcham, Woolhampton, Theal, Twyford and Hare Hatch without incident and by the time they approached Maidenhead Thicket, they had caught up with Mr Grey and Peregrine’s carriages.
Theo, who now thought it unlikely Sophie or Olivia could be taken to their respective destinations tonight because of the late hour, had made up his mind to suggest they stay overnight at The Bell and Anchor in Hammersmith, completing the final stage tomorrow.
The three carriages approached the infamous thicket in close procession. Sophie was entertaining Theo with tales of Dick Turpin’s exploits on this section of road, in response to which he laughed and said he had no fears of being held up by highwaymen at this hour.
With perfect timing, a shot rang out. It appeared to have been aimed in Peregrine’s direction as he uttered a cry of outrage before his horses began kicking out and rearing in the shafts. A second shot followed and this time, the bullet hummed through the air near Sophie.
Theo swore under his breath, transferred the reins to his left hand and barked at her to move across. Sophie needed no further urging and scrambled across the seat. Theo, clamping his right arm around her, pressed her into the shelter of his body. A good deal of commotion was taking place. Theo’s horses were plunging and snorting in fear. So too were Mr Grey’s, while Peregrine’s furious expletives drifted towards them on the breeze. It was Sophie who noticed the two masked figures riding out from the thicket and gave Theo’s sleeve a tug to alert him.
The men dragged their horses to a halt next to Theo’s carriage, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Mufflers were pulled up to cover their faces and their hats were pushed down low on their heads. Both held pistols. The stockier man of the two had his weapon aimed at Sophie; the other man’s was trained on the carriages in front.
The well-built man spoke first. ‘Don’t move if you know what’s good for yer.” His gaze skimmed over the other carriages as he added, “Any of yer.”
Then, he looked at Sophie. “Let’s start with you, miss. Hand it over!” he demanded, indicating the reticule in her lap with a jerk of his pistol barrel.
Sophie’s fingers curled more tightly around the reticule’s strings. Observing Theo from under her lashes, she saw his expression was murderous. He must be itching to reach for his pistol but in truth there was little he could do. The footpads had the benefit of surprise and they would shoot before he could level his pistol. Besides, he had the reins in one hand and his other was about her waist, clamping her to his side, the pressure of his fingers searing her skin through her gown.
Mr Grey was busy bringing one of his leaders to heel and reassuring Olivia. Sophie could hear him speaking to her in a low, even tone. There was no chance of heroics from Peregrine. She was surprised he hadn’t already tried to escape, but presumably he perceived there was more danger of being shot if he did. She cast around in her mind for another way out—it seemed so poor-spirited to meekly hand over her reticule—but Theo read her thoughts.
“Sophie,” he muttered warningly, “give them what they asked for.”
The stocky man put out a gloved hand. “That’s the dander. Be a good girl and do as the gentleman says. Toss the pretties over!”
There was a tense pause. Having settled his horses, Grey had swivelled round in his seat to watch the scene. So too had Olivia. Bowyer shifted his precarious position on top of the baggage, while Peregrine, swelling with indignant rage, glared at the highwaymen, his eyes almost starting out of their sockets.
“Abominable impertinence, holding up travellers like this!” he exclaimed.
”Shut yer mouth, yer fat-headed, rosy-faced flash cull, or I’ll put a bullet in it,” observed the second footpad with a contemptuous glance.
Peregrine’s face suffused with colour. “Disgraceful! I’ll report this to the magistrate when I get to Maidenhead—”
“Quiet, Perry!” interjected Mr Grey in a low voice. “Remember there are ladies present and we don’t want to antagonise these fellows unnecessarily. Miss Devereux, I advise you to hand over your reticule as Mr Cavanagh suggests. We are in no position to argue.” “But—”
“Do it, Sophie!” said Theo, giving her a warning squeeze.
She lifted her chin and threw the man a scornful look. “Oh, very well, but I find it tedious to be robbed by the Bath Fox after all. I imagined him to be a much more terrifying fi
gure—why, you’re only a shabby-looking, ill-mannered, pathetic little cur who robs defenceless women!”
A raucous chuckle broke from the footpad. “That’s a good one! Ha ha, best description of the Bath Fox I’ve heard! Tell it to the Runners!” He continued laughing heartily, clutching at his sides and even slapping his thigh in glee. Beneath his muffler, his companion chortled too.
Sophie stared at him in amazement. “I don’t see what there is to snigger at.”
“No, miss, daresay you wouldn’t, but it’s a ripe joke all the same!” he croaked, as his mirth degenerated into a wheezing fit.
“Is this a robbery or a two-penny farce?” snapped Peregrine.
The footpad dabbed the corner of his eyes with his muffler. “Cross me heart, sir, it’s robbery to be sure, but you can’t begrudge us chosen pells enjoying a joke.” He stopped cackling at last and cleared his throat. “Now, miss,” he demanded, “pass over the pretties and be quick about it.”
Sophie tossed the reticule towards him.
He caught it neatly and tested the weight, nodding. “Thank yer—” he began.
A deafening explosion sounded and Sophie’s eyes flew to Grey’s carriage. Bowyer, it appeared, had retrieved a handsome brass-barrelled blunderbuss from its hiding place among the portmanteaux and fired it. It had missed the highwaymen, but the spray of shot had caught one of their horses in the flank. The gelding snorted loudly and reared up, almost unseating its rider who fought to stay in the saddle.
“Blast your eyes!” he cried, before wheeling his injured mount away towards the thicket with his companion in close pursuit.
“Bowyer,” drawled Mr Grey with unruffled calm, watching the receding figures, “I am at a loss to know whether I should offer my congratulations or commiserations on your marksmanship. Were you aiming at the horse or the man?”
Three Secrets and a Scandal (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 2) Page 12