Gamble With Hearts

by Hilary Gilman

  ‘Captain Osborne, Lord Fitzroy, I would like to present you to one of my oldest friends, Sir William Pomfret,’ said the Marquis with a smile.

  Both men were familiar with the name of the Chief Justice of Bow Street and their confusion was much increased by the friendly way in which he treated the Viscount. The Marquis judged it time to take pity on them and explain what was going forward that night.

  The Marquis, it transpired, had informed Sir William as soon as he had been informed of Charles' arrival in London. He had, however, been in communication with Bow Street before that and had been able to influence Sir William to some extent on Charles' behalf. Both men had believed Carlington's tale and Ruthin, who had been convinced from the first of Pentherbridge's guilt, had been confirmed in his belief by Charlotte's experience. Therefore, a trap had been set using the unfortunate Miss Wrexham as bait. From the moment that Pentherbridge despatched his note, his every movement had been under surveillance. He had been followed to the Borough, his actions in hiring a room in the ramshackle house had been noted. Neither had Miss Wrexham been unescorted. A Runner had been behind her at every step of the way to Pentherbridge's lair. And now the trap was set, baited and ready to be sprung.

  ‘There is little time to lose now. Miss Wrexham will have reached the rendezvous by now. Let us be off. But do not worry, she is in no danger, our men are everywhere. The most she will have to suffer is an uncomfortable half hour or so.’ With these heartening words the Marquis led the way out into the darkened streets and within a very few minutes they were rattling over the cobblestones at a pace frantic enough to earn them the vociferous disapproval of more moderate road users.

  When Miss Wrexham swooned so dramatically into her would-be ravisher's arms, he was somewhat taken aback. For one thing, Miss Wrexham was built on statuesque lines and was no light weight. Pentherbridge was obliged to drop his burden to the floor, for the knocking at the street door had by this time penetrated his consciousness. He did not have any idea that Bow Street was involved; his thought was that the lady's fiancé had found him out. He cast a quick glance around the dingy apartment. There was no way out. Men were running up the rickety stairs now, the heavy tread of several pairs of boots made the whole floor tremble. Miss Wrexham lay, a beautiful corpse-like figure upon the floor where he had left her, and for one horrified moment he wondered if she were indeed dead.

  They were at the door now; the flimsy lock could not keep them out for long. Rendered suddenly cunning by fear, he scooped up the inanimate form of Miss Wrexham and held her before him as a shield. Feverishly, he felt in his pockets for the pistol he carried, the pistol with which he had murdered Farnley. As the door burst open and several men half stumbled into the room, he calmly lifted the gun and held it to the beautiful, insensible head that rested upon his breast. ‘No further if you please, gentlemen,’ he requested in something like his old manner. ‘As you see, Miss Wrexham is in a rather hazardous situation!’

  Suddenly, one of the men emerged from the group and edged forward. As he did so he unwound a heavy muffler that had until now been concealing his features. He spoke softly and at the sound Pentherbridge paled. ‘I tell you this, Uncle,’ said that soft voice. ‘If you hurt so much as a hair upon her head, you are a dead man!’

  ‘You!’ Pentherbridge cried hoarsely, the pistol half slipping from his suddenly nerveless hand.

  ‘Did you not expect to see me, Uncle? I fear your seafaring friends are not as reliable as you had thought.’

  ‘I do not know what you are talking about!’ shouted Pentherbridge, wildly. ‘You, all of you, why do you not arrest this man? He is a murderer!’

  The Marquis stepped forward. ‘Odd as it may seem, Pentherbridge, there are those among us who, despite your efforts, do not believe that Charles killed Farnley. We had heard his story and we have looked about us for another culprit. Someone who hated Charles; someone who stood to gain a fortune by his death, and above all someone who faced prison, if not death, should the Viscount reach his majority. We know everything, Pentherbridge; there is no escape for you now!’

  ‘I deny it! I deny it all,’ he shouted, his voice rising hysterically.

  ‘Listen, Pentherbridge. The Captain of the vessel you hired is more than willing to identify you. The ship was brought back to port by a Navy cutter only yesterday. There was enough contraband aboard to keep him locked up for a very long time. He will talk to save himself!’

  Specks of froth appeared at the corners of Pentherbridge's mouth. His eyes held a wild, hunted look. They met those of the Marquis, cool and implacable. ‘Damn you! Damn you to hell!’ he shouted suddenly.

  ‘Look out!’ came a warning cry from Carlington as the pistol was levelled at the Marquis. At that moment the still body of Charlotte came suddenly to life. With strong hands she grabbed the hand that held the pistol and brought it down with all her might against the edge of the iron fire grate. He screamed in agony and Charlotte twisted out of his grasp, just as Charles launched himself upon the prostrate figure. It was over very quickly. Pentherbridge had lost all control. He hit out wildly but he was no match for the Viscount now. Within a very few minutes he was led from the room, half crying, half cursing, and in his frenzy incriminating himself further at every moment.

  When the Marquis returned to the upstairs room, having seen the prisoner safely on his way to Bow Street, he found Lord Fitzroy and Captain Osborne observing with some approval the passionate embrace being exchanged by a lady and gentleman who seemed totally oblivious of their surroundings. They were recalled by a delicate cough from Lord Fitzroy. ‘No wish t-to disturb you at all, b-but here's Ruthin, very g-good sort of fellow. Wants a word I d-daresay.’

  ‘Oh, pray do not take any notice of me. I merely wished to tell you, Charles, that your uncle is on his way to gaol, and, as I judge, has betrayed himself so soundly that his conviction is assured.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. You relieve my mind. Is it really over then?’

  ‘Yes, my boy. I think we may say that it is.’

  ‘In that case, sir, I hope you do not object if I marry your fiancée as soon as may be,’ said the Viscount, with a grin.

  ‘You have my blessing,’ the Marquis assured them with a paternal air.

  ‘And when is your own wedding to be?’ demanded Charles of his benefactor, with a laugh.

  Charlotte lifted her head which had been resting snugly in the hollow of Charles' shoulder. 'Are you going to be married, sir? I did not know.’

  The Marquis looked almost embarrassed. ‘I hope so, my dear, I very much hope so,’ and as an afterthought, he added, ‘Would you be so kind as to inform your mama that I shall do myself the honour of calling on her tomorrow morning?’

  Charlotte glanced in bewilderment from the Marquis' flushed face to Charles' sly one. Obviously there was some secret here in which she had no share, but she was far too tired and too happy to investigate further.

  ‘Charles, please take me home,’ she begged. He agreed with alacrity, and as the Marquis was kind enough to place his carriage at the disposal of the young people, they most reprehensibly made their way home together, quite un-chaperoned. By this time, however, the proper and unromantic Miss Wrexham was so demoralised that she not only permitted his lordship to hold her in his arms all the way to Hill Street, but also returned his kisses with an enthusiasm that would have shocked her mama and Aunt into palpitations if they had been able to see her.

  When the carriage reached Hill Street, it was apparent, from the number of lights in the house, that the ladies had not yet retired. Charlotte firmly dismissed her suitor at the front door, feeling that the shock of seeing him had better be delayed until the good ladies had been prepared a little. He was loath to leave her to face the inevitable explanations alone, but she was adamant, and so he reluctantly left her and wandered off down the street, whistling loudly.

  Charlotte was admitted to the house by the butler, who wore the expression of a man who can no longer be shocked. He showed
not the slightest surprise in admitting to the house at midnight a young lady whom he had supposed to be fast asleep in her chamber. He merely informed her that she would find her mama in the drawing room in company with two young persons. With that, he withdrew to the nether regions and spent an agreeable half-hour in composing his letter of resignation from this ill-regulated house.

  As Charlotte entered the drawing room she was greeted by her mama with a wail of distress. ‘Charlotte, Charlotte! Oh how glad I am to see you, my dear. I did so wish to leave you undisturbed to have a good sleep, but I am beside myself, for look who is here!’ With an unconsciously dramatic gesture Mrs Wrexham flung out her hand to indicate the occupants of the sofa; Mr Edridge and a tearful Miss Milverly.

  ‘Good heavens, Mama! What in the world—?’ demanded Charlotte, pardonably surprised.

  ‘I am sure I cannot make head nor tail of it my dear. Sebastian, tell Charlotte what you have told me while I see about some hot milk for you all, you poor children.’ With that, she bustled out, leaving the young people regarding each other rather warily.

  ‘Well, Sebastian, you had better tell me what is happening, I suppose,’

  Mr Edridge looked most uncomfortable. ‘I scarcely know how to begin.’

  ‘Try at the beginning,’ recommended Charlotte seating herself.

  ‘Well, you must be aware that I have been very much in love with Amelia ever since I first saw her. She seemed so lovely, so—’

  ‘Yes, very well, Sebastian, but it is rather late so perhaps you could leave Amelia's perfections out of the story,’ said Miss Wrexham rather tartly.

  He grinned at her. ‘Well, in any event, I asked the Marquis for permission to pay my addresses and he agreed. The only trouble was that for some reason Amelia seemed to have changed her mind, for she quite refused to hear my proposal.’

  Amelia gave a resounding sniff at this point, and sent Mr Edridge a darkling look. A glance from Miss Wrexham quelled her, however, and she subsided once more into sobs. ‘Well, it seemed to me that there must be some reason why she should have changed her mind so suddenly, and then I remembered the way she looked when she danced with that Chatham fellow, so I—I—’

  ‘I do not wonder that you are ashamed to confess it!’ declared Miss Milverly unexpectedly. ‘For a more despicable dastardly thing I never heard of, and I shall have her turned off without character!’

  ‘Who?’ demanded Charlotte in bewilderment.

  ‘My maid, whom he bribed, yes bribed, to betray me!’

  Charlotte could not but look disapprovingly at Mr Edridge. ‘That was not well done of you, Sebastian,’ she told him.

  He looked a little uncomfortable, but asserted that it was just as well for Amelia that he had, for he had discovered that she planned to fly with Chatham that very night. ‘She is such a baby, you know, ma'am. She hasn't any idea what would have been the consequences of spending the night alone with a fellow like that. I had to rescue her!’

  ‘But I did not in the least want to be rescued!’ asserted Amelia in high dudgeon.

  ‘You soon would have,’ he told her bluntly. ‘Well, anyway, after I had discovered the plan it was easy. I just turned up at the appointment before Amelia. I persuaded Chatham to leave and when Amelia arrived I brought her here.

  'Just how did you persuade this Chatham to leave, Sebastian? I would not have thought he would give up so easily.’

  Ruefully, Mr Edridge held out his hand for Charlotte's inspection. The knuckles were cut and still bleeding a little. She gave a little exclamation of horror, but Sebastian assured her with some pride that Chatham's face looked very much worse.

  ‘He hardly put up a fight, you know. I don't know what you could see in such a paltry fellow, Amelia.’

  Charlotte was rather amused by the whole escapade, although she was careful to show Amelia a stern face. Like Edridge, she realised that Miss Milverly's willingness to do anything so improper stemmed from innocence rather than depravity, but she must be made to realise that she had been very foolish. There was another thing that puzzled Miss Wrexham about this remarkable affair.

  ‘Tell me, Sebastian, why did you not simply inform the Marquis of this flight? Surely it is his duty to protect his daughter.’

  ‘To tell you the truth, I was so hurt and angry that all I wanted was to take a poke at the fellow's bone box myself. Oh, I beg your pardon, I mean—’

  ‘Do not worry, Sebastian, I am growing quite accustomed to thieves’ cant and all manner of strange expressions. I understand your feelings and think you did quite right. But having rescued Amelia, why bring her here? Not that we are not happy to receive her, of course.’

  ‘She would not go home. Started screaming her head off when I suggested it, so I thought it best to bring her here. I know she has a fondness for you, ma'am, and for Mrs Wrexham. Besides, you are betrothed to her father, are you not?’

  ‘Well, to tell you the truth, I am afraid I am not!’

  ‘What? I do not understand. Whatever can you mean!’ cried Amelia, shocked out of her sobs.

  Charlotte did her very best to look regretful, but succeeded only in looking radiantly happy. ‘The truth is, Amelia, that your Papa does not really wish to marry me at all, nor I him. I am going to be married to Charles Carlington as soon as possible, and with your own father's blessing.’

  Mr Edridge was not a slow-witted young man, but even he found this announcement a little incomprehensible. Charlotte was obliged to favour the young couple with a brief account of her adventures that night. Edridge, who had been distressed by the accusations against Carlington, was most relieved to find them unfounded; and Amelia, who had been finding Miss Wrexham most unsympathetic that evening, admitted to herself that she was not wholly displeased to be losing her prospective mama. Mrs Wrexham. who now entered with a pitcher of steaming milk. was very much more her ideal of what a mother should be.

  Quickly Charlotte made her mother acquainted with the events of the evening. Mrs Wrexham could not but be overjoyed at her daughter's happiness; although she was horrified to learn of the danger she had passed through.

  By now, the contents of the pitcher had been disposed of and, as both young ladies were extremely weary, Mrs Wrexham insisted that they should be sent off to bed. Mr Edridge was dispatched to Lord Ruthin's house with a short note in which Mrs Wrexham acquainted him with his daughter's folly and begged him to restrain his anger until the morning when she hoped to speak to him.

  TWELVE

  Lady Northwood was naturally a little surprised when, upon entering the breakfast room, she encountered Miss Milverly partaking of chocolate and rolls. None of the ladies had yet had time to invent a plausible reason for Amelia's presence and so Charlotte was forced to tell her aunt the truth, although with a good deal of trepidation. Fortunately, Lady Northwood was more amused than shocked by Miss Milverly's escapade. No damsel whose father had a fortune of twenty thousand a year need fear any very violent disapprobation from that worldly lady.

  Her disapproval was reserved for her own niece, who hastened to take advantage of her Aunt's forbearing mood by announcing her betrothal. Lady Northwood was naturally glad to hear that Carlington's name had been cleared, but he was no more eligible now than he had been previously, and Lady Northwood was loath to give up the prospect of the match with Ruthin. However, when it was explained to her that the Marquis had no real desire to marry Miss Wrexham in any event, she shrugged her shoulders and declared that she washed her hands of the whole business.

  ‘You must do as you please, Charlotte, for I see that you are just like your mother and have no notion .of how to pursue your advantages.’

  ‘Well, I am sure I only hope to be as happy as Mama was,’ replied Charlotte warmly. ‘I am sure no woman could ask for more.’

  Lady Northwood raised a sceptical eyebrow, but forbore to comment.

  Mrs Wrexham favoured her daughter with a warm smile. The slight barrier that had been raised between them during Charlotte's engagement to R
uthin had now quite dissolved and they were once more in perfect accord. Charlotte had not failed to give her mama the Marquis' message the previous night, which might have accounted for the bloom that had returned to her countenance. Mrs Wrexham had dressed herself with great care that morning in a dove-grey gown trimmed with black velvet ribbons and worn with the prettiest lace cap. She looked absurdly youthful, her eyes sparkling with anticipation and upon her lips a smile of pure happiness.

  After breakfast the ladies retired to the pretty chamber where Lady Northwood received her morning callers, and there awaited their visitors with some impatience.

  Mr Edridge was the first of these to arrive. He was accorded a motherly welcome by Mrs Wrexham but Miss Milverly barely acknowledged his entrance. She was of necessity wearing the same gown in which she had arrived the previous night, which made her feel at a disadvantage and therefore cross. She was used to appearing as fresh as the morning, and although attempts had been made to smooth out the creases, the dark stuff dress that had seemed suitable for the journey to Gretna was decidedly out of place in the morning room. Moreover she had slept ill, and had the unnerving prospect of an interview with her papa before her.

  Mr Edridge too seemed ill at ease. He could no longer put off his departure for Oxford, and he had hoped to take with him Amelia's promise that they should be married as soon as he had completed his studies. Now it seemed unlikely that he would be able to see her alone at all, and even if he could do so, he no longer felt any confidence in her reply. Unexpectedly he was rescued by Miss Wrexham, who had a very fair idea of what was in her young friend's mind. With a conspiratorial smile at Sebastian she addressed her aunt. ‘Dear ma'am, I am sure that Amelia would be enchanted by your lovely conservatory. May I take her out there now?’

  ‘Oh, I suppose you want to talk secrets and get away from us old fidgets,’ replied Lady Northwood with a severity belied by the humour in her eyes.