Sophie gave an enigmatic smile. She doubted that Thomas had her abilities but she did not wish to wound his pride. ‘There is no need to worry about me. I doubt the Viscount will want to argue with a pistol.’ She patted her side. ‘Besides, I also have my trusty sword.’
Thomas rolled his eyes in exasperation but he had no time to argue as they could hear the sound of hooves on the rough cobbles as a carriage approached. They watched as the Viscount dismounted and went to the carriage door. Thomas went to move forward but Sophie stayed him a moment longer with her hand. The timing would have to be perfect if they were to succeed. The Viscount reached into the carriage and grabbed the Colonel slinging his dead weight over his shoulder and headed for the Northern Spirit.
‘Now!’ Sophie urged as she stepped out of the shadow of the glass works and into Lord Ashenden’s path. She levelled her pistol at him. ‘Set the Colonel gently to the ground if you do not want a bullet in your brain,’ she commanded.
Taken completely by surprise, Lord Ashenden stopped dead in his tracks. Recovering his wits, he looked her squarely in the eye and called her bluff. Ashenden was arrogant enough to misjudge her female sensibilities. ‘You would not dare shoot me,’ he countered.
‘Oh, I dare, Lord Ashenden. If I have to choose between killing you and leaving the Colonel to a watery grave, I choose to kill you. So you see, you will leave me with little choice.’
Lord Ashenden sighed and lowered the Colonel to the ground. He doubted he could hold him much longer anyway for the Colonel made sure that he was no easy burden. Harry was bound hand and foot with ropes connecting the two, and on a nod from Sophie, Thomas ran forward to release him. Harry was stiff and gingerly stood up stamping his feet and rubbing his hands to return the flow of blood to his aching limbs. He approached Sophie with a welcome smile. ‘That’s my girl,’ he whispered proudly. He was never so pleased to see anyone in his life and he would have to remember to thank her properly, but they were not out of danger yet. They still had Lord Ashenden to contend with and they could not underestimate him. Sophie handed Harry her pistol and armed herself with her sword.
The Colonel issued Thomas with instructions. He had no idea how his footman came to be involved in this affair and was surprised by his presence, but all the same grateful. ‘Thomas, check the Viscount for weapons,’ he instructed.
The Viscount raised his hands and Thomas stepped forward to check his person, removing a pistol from his inner pocket. The Viscount sneered. ‘Saved by a servant and a woman. What now, Colonel?’
‘Now,’ Harry replied, ‘’I wish to find out what is so valuable that it is worth killing for. First my brother and now your attempt to kill me.’ He waved toward the Northern Spirit. ‘I take it that this is your boat,’ he said as he directed the Viscount onto the gangplank. ‘After you, Ashenden. This is a quiet spot but we are near the glass works and there is no saying who could wander along. I do think we should remain private.’
With two pistols and a sword trained on him, Lord Ashenden had no alternative but to comply. The party boarded the sailing boat and entered the cabin. Lord Ashenden with his hands behind his head was ordered to sit on one of the bunks. Harry held out his left hand. ‘Whatever it is you took from my brother’s safe, hand it over.’
‘You do not think that I still have it on me, do you?’ he sneered. ‘Unfortunately, I cannot oblige you.’
Thomas stepped forward. ‘Colonel, he has papers in his inner pocket. I felt them when I was retrieving his pistol.’ Thomas walked over to seize them. The Viscount was debating whether to risk a surprise attack on the footman and use him as a hostage but thought better of it as he felt the cool steel of Sophie’s sword beneath his chin.
He gave Sophie a derogatory look, eyeing her billowing shirt and breeches. ‘Lady Northcote told me you were a hoyden. It turns out she is right,’ he mocked.
Harry just smiled. His lady rogue had squared up to an almost impossible challenge. ‘I suggest then that you do not underestimate my fiancé. You see, that sword is not an ornament and she knows how to use it. There is no telling what she might do.’
As if to confirm Harry’s words, Sophie expertly nicked the Viscount on his chin with a sharp deft movement. Blood trickled onto his cravat and he watched her with loathing.
Thomas handed the letter over to the Colonel and he opened it carefully, intent on discovering what was so important that is cost lives. It did not take him long to realise what he had in his hand. He looked at Lord Ashenden and cursed. ‘Why, you traitorous dog.’
He raised his hand to his disfiguration and thought of his brother Stephen and many like him. His anger came to the boil. How many men had died because of the likes of this cur before him? He stepped forward to strike the Viscount but Sophie put her hand on his arm to stay him. ‘Let me see, what is that letter, Harry?’
He checked himself and handed it to her. ‘Here, see for yourself.’
Sophie read it and looked up aghast. She could hardly believe what she was reading. ‘Why, the man is a French spy,’ she gasped in abhorrence. ‘What shall you do, Harry? Throw him overboard as he intended for you?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I have enough blood on my hands. Fetch me the rope that he used on me. If it is no longer suitable there must be some damn spare sheeting on this boat we can use. We shall restrain him and send Thomas for the magistrate and a couple of constables. The man will hang for the traitor he is.’
Thomas rode out as instructed and Harry was able to relax a little now that Lord Ashenden was restrained. He spoke to Sophie kindly. ‘You should not have done it, Sophie but I am glad you did, but where is Sebastian and your Uncle Jack?’
They are dining at Lord Dereham’s. Daniel has ridden out to inform Sebastian but I feared he would not get here in time. He must still be an hour behind us.’
In that she was wrong. On hearing the news, Sebastian had borrowed one of Lord Dereham’s fastest hunters and ridden out with all speed with Daniel disobediently following in his wake on Zephyrus. He had not even waited for his dithering father who had insisted on accompanying him and was no doubt following behind. Sebastian arrived not half an hour later. Instructing Daniel to keep in the shadows, he crept up to the Northern Spirit like a panther after his pray. He could not be sure what situation he might find there. Peering into the cabin, his glance alighted on Lord Ashenden trussed up like a turkey on the far bunk. He was obviously too late to be of any assistance so he waved Daniel over and made their presence known.’
Harry stood up. ‘Sebastian, we have been expecting you, but as you see everything is under control.’
Sebastian tucked his pistol into his breeches and descended into the cabin followed by Daniel. ‘So I see, and to think I have been called away from a perfectly delicious dinner for nothing,’ he replied humorously.
Harry acknowledged Sebastian with a huge grin but then turned to Daniel. ‘And what are you doing here, young cub?’
‘I could not keep away, Colonel. I had to make sure you are alright,’ he gushed with relief.
‘The rascal followed me,’ Sebastian supplied. ‘He would not go back and I did not have time to argue. My father should be along any minute and he will deal with him when we get home.’
Daniel did not care about the consequences of his disobedience. He was just pleased to see that his sister and the Colonel were alive and well.
Daniel looked across at Lord Ashenden. ‘What will happen to him?’ he asked curiously.
Harry frowned. ‘The man will hang, Daniel. He is a traitor and a murderer.’
The Viscount sneered at him defiantly. ‘You will find it hard to prove that I murdered Winstanley.’
Harry took one hard look at Ashenden’s defiant expression. ‘I am sure that when the constable retrieves your cape, he will find a pearl button missing. You see it was found next to my brother’s body. But it hardly matters, this letter will be enough to condemn you for murder aplenty. How many men have died because of the likes of you? Acc
ept it Ashenden, your game is up.’
Ashenden growled. ‘Why don’t you just throw me over the side and be done with it,’ he cursed.
Sebastian only aware of half of it looked somewhat perplexed. ‘What letter? What the deuce is going on here, Harry?’
Harry looked grim and showed him the letter. ‘My brother found out that Ashenden has been spying for the French and the Viscount murdered him to keep him quiet. I cannot quite believe it. All this time I attributed Rupert’s murder to any number of his nefarious dealings. I have been making all the wrong enquiries in all of the wrong places and the cause was much darker than even I suspected. ’
Sebastian was furious and it took him all of his self-control not to oblige Lord Ashenden and throw him over the side as he wished, but he satisfied himself that hanging, after all, would be the better option for him. It would give him time to reflect on what was in store for him.
It was at that moment that Baron Wyndholme peered into the cabin. ‘I see I am too late,’ he said with his usual good-natured aplomb. I don’t suppose that confounded fellow has any good brandy about? Jolly thirsty work galloping all of the way from Dereham House.’
The company looked at each other and grinned. Trust Lord Wyndholme to lighten the mood.
Chapter Sixteen
After the constables had taken Lord Ashenden away, the party prepared for home. It was late and Harry agreed to call on the Wyndholmes the next day. Harry walked across to the carriage with Thomas and the footman tied Aramis to the back of the coach. He climbed up on the box beside the Colonel. ‘Excuse the language, sir,’ he said, ‘but that damn mongrel had the nerve to borrow the Winstanley carriage. I am glad I was on hand to assist you.’
Harry gave Thomas a sideways glance. ‘I am glad too and I am eternally grateful, Thomas, but how come you are involved in this sad affair?’
Thomas explained how he had observed the assault from the hall and retreated into the library until he had the opportunity to seek help. He was rather apologetic. ‘I am sorry, my Lord but it was the honourable Sebastian Wyndholme I was seeking. I did not mean to involve lady Trevarren. There was no stopping her, saving physical restraint, sir and it was not my place.’
Harry understood. ‘No, once she knew, there would have been little you could do to stop her. I am only grateful for your intervention, so we shall say no more about it.’
Harry was silent for a few moments. Thomas’s story had just confirmed the worst of his suspicions. Lady Northcote had been the person who had knocked him out from behind. He should have suspected her connection with Lord Ashenden the day she claimed to have something in her eye. He had suspicions at the time but decided that it was his imagination and had given her the benefit of the doubt. Questions were competing in his head. Did she know of the Viscount’s traitorous activities? Was she aware that he had murdered her husband? Or was he just simply her ciscebeo? Even if only the latter was true, she was still an accessory to his attempted murder. Lady Northcote was a problem and he had no idea how to deal with her without dragging the family name through the gutter. He would need to confront her on the matter first thing in the morning.
‘You have done so much for me already but I need to request one more thing of you, Thomas?’ he said.
Thomas gave a toothy grin. ‘Anything. You just need to ask, my Lord.’
‘When we get back to Winstanley Hall, all the servants will be in bed. Tell no-one that I am at home. I wish to surprise Lady Northcote at the breakfast table in the morning.’
Thomas had no love for lady Northcote and was quite happy to comply. ‘No sooner said than done, my Lord. You can rely on me.’
*****
Lady Northcote wanted to be alone. Having dismissed the under footman, she sat at the breakfast table in the big dining room sipping coffee. She could not face the kipper on the plate in front of her and pushed it away. The Viscount had not yet returned with the Winstanley carriage and his horse was still in the stables. She stood up and walked across to the window. ‘John, where are you?’ she muttered to herself, hoping that all had gone well. Surely Harry could not have escaped from those bonds. She heard the dining room door open and glanced across in hopeful expectation but instead of Viscount Ashenden, Harry stood there the picture of perfect health and vigour. Her face registered initial astonishment but she did her best to gather her wits.
Harry greeted her amiably, ‘What is wrong, Cecelia, are you surprised to see me?’
‘No, No. not at all,’ she faltered. ‘It was just that I…I did not think you were at home.’
‘But where else should I be?’ he replied. ‘Floating face down in the North Sea?’
If the Countess could have displayed any more shock, this was the moment. Her knees turned to jelly and she walked back over to the table and sat down. How could Harry know of her involvement in his abduction? Even if the Viscount had been caught, surely, he would not have implicated her. Her only option was to dissemble.
She returned to the table and took her seat. ‘Truly Harry, I do not know what you are talking about. Come, sit down and have some coffee.’
Harry walked across to the sideboard and poured himself a coffee and sat down adjacent to her. ‘Let us save time, Cecelia. There was a witness to your assault on my good person last night. The footman saw it all. So do not continue to lie to me.’
‘Thomas?’ she replied. ‘Last night Thomas absconded without leave to seduce some poor wench so I am not sure what he is supposed to have seen. Besides, how could you possibly believe anything a servant would say?’ she replied primly.
Harry bristled. He had a high regard for most of his servants and resented his sister-in-law’s high handed attitude.
‘A servant to whom I owe my life, I might add, Cecelia. Which reminds me, I must remember to reward him. Perhaps I will promote him to Butler and increase his wages. I have a mind to dismiss Metcalfe. He is your creature and skulks about the house like a praying mantis. The man makes my blood run cold.’
Cecelia had still not lost her fighting spirit. ‘You shall do no such thing. It is my job to hire and fire the servants. I am still the Countess!’
Harry took a sip of his coffee and leant back in his chair observing her belligerent expression. Did she really think that she would get away with what she had done because of her status? He was still not sure how much she knew of the Viscount’s traitorous activities or the depth of her own involvement in Rupert’s murder but she had still been happy to assist in his demise.
Harry sighed regretfully. ‘You lost that right the day you decided to side with a traitor of the realm and a murderer.’
He watched her carefully to gauge her reaction. She looked genuinely perplexed. ‘What do you mean, ‘a traitor of the realm?’’
‘I recovered a letter from the Viscount’s person last night. It is the letter he took from the safe in Rupert’s study when you conveniently knocked me out. It refers to British naval movements in the Mediterranean and includes details of the contingent guarding Napoleon off Elba, which if truth be known is hopelessly inadequate. Rupert had somehow come into possession of it and threatened to expose the Viscount for the spy that he is.’
‘But I do not understand. How would Rupert come into possession of such a letter,’ she asked with genuine revulsion.
‘You dined with the Viscount not so long since, did you not? I seem to remember that Lord Ashenden returned something that you had left at his home the day you claimed to have something in your eye. Rupert must have spotted the letter then. There is no other explaining it.’
Harry studied Cecelia’s reaction and there was no hiding her astonishment and disbelief. ‘Lord Ashenden told me it was just a business dealing he had with Rupert that he did not wish to become public knowledge. I thought that it was just another one of Rupert’s spurious enterprises so thought nothing of it.’
Harry looked doubtful. ‘Even if I believed you, Cecelia, and maybe I do, you are still an accessory to Rupert’s murder
and my attempted murder. You have no defence for that,’ he argued.
Cecelia frowned. ‘As for Rupert, John told me that it was an accident. He took Rupert outside to tell him about us. That he wanted him to divorce me so that we could get married. Rupert became angry and pulled out his pistol. There was a struggle and John shot him accidently through the heart. As far as you are concerned, you held the Viscount hostage to your sword and I only did what I had to do, to help him escape. I did not think he would attempt to murder you.’
Harry was not sure if he believed this part of the story. Her account did not fit with the facts. Rupert had been shot in cold blood. He did not have a pistol of his own and there was no evidence of a struggle. However, the Viscount could have told Cecelia lies. The fact was that Lord Ashenden had killed Rupert and she was still prepared to protect him. Her arguments did not convince him.
Harry grimaced in pain. ‘By the way, what did you knock me out with?’ he asked curiously.
‘It was the marble statue of Aphrodite,’ she replied frankly, realising it was pointless to deny it.
‘Ah, that explains it,’ he said, reaching up to feel the large swollen lump on the back of his head.
He stood up and paced the floor. ‘Cecelia, should things have happened the way you have explained, that still does not defend why you acted the way you did. The man killed your husband for goodness sake. Do you not understand.’
Cecelia stood up and faced him. ‘No, you do not understand! Do you think I did not know about Rupert’s clandestine dealings? He was indolent and corrupt. Do you think that I do not know that he was replacing my jewellery bit by bit with cheap copies and deceiving me? I learned to despise the man. When John came along he was like a breath of fresh air in comparison and offered to take me away from it all.’
‘He may have been a breath of fresh air,’ Harry snapped. ‘But he deceived you also. I once met him in London and I happen to know that he is already married. I briefly met his wife. She is a pretty redhead with very rich parents.’
Lady Trevarren and the Emerald Brooch: A Regency Romance and Murder Mystery Page 19