Roxanne’s heart sank. Of course it had to be Edgar behind this, but somehow she had half hoped she had been abducted by a clod that would only be too happy to return her to her family once he’d been paid. Edgar would have something more sinister up his sleeve.
The door creaked open. Her captor leaped to his feet, knife in hand. The blade glinted in the gloom. “Who’s there?”
“It’s only me, yer stupid lump,” growled his companion, who looked equally filthy and scarred. “I see Missy is awake.”
The second man limped over to where Roxanne lay. He knelt down next to her and reached out a huge filthy paw to stroke her cheek. “Such a pretty lass,” he crooned.
She jerked her head back and mewed in fear. His expression changed to anger as he saw the disgust on her face.
“So I’m not good enough for likes of yer!” he spat. “Jes’ wait until I gets—”
The first man dragged him by his coat collar, kicking and protesting, away from Roxanne.
“Have yer gorn completely barmy?” Fear sounded in his voice. “Yer know how Doyle is! He’ll slit yer from gullet to gizzard in three seconds if yer lay one hand on his prize.”
Grumbling, the second man heaved himself to his feet and picked up a bottle from the table. He drank noisily and then slammed it down. He cast a surly glance at Roxanne. She turned her face away. Clearly their fear of Edgar prevented them having their way with her. But where was Edgar, she wondered.
“So where’s Mister High ’n’ Mighty then,” sneered the second man.
“Right here.”
Both men jumped to attention as Edgar strolled into the room. Roxanne could see he had been drinking by the way he missed when he tried to grab a chair and by the slight slur in his speech. With a sinking feeling she remembered the last time he had been drunk, on their wedding night. Alcohol seemed to bring out the worst in him and fuel his violence towards women.
He made a mock bow in her direction before falling into the chair. He waved at her. “Greetings, my lady, and here we are at last. Not quite as alone as I would like to be with you, but it will suffice.”
Roxanne wanted to scream insults at him, spit in his face, and claw his eyes out. All she managed were several gurgling sounds and an enraged, but fruitless, yanking at her bonds.
Sniggering at her frustration, Edgar gestured at his henchmen. “That’s the best way for a woman to be, lads! This hellcat has a very sharp tongue and even sharper claws. Best she stays gagged and tied.”
The second man laughed heartily while the first man said nothing. His eyes betrayed anxiety.
“Now wot’s ter be done wiv ’er?” he asked. “We’ve done as yer said, Mister Doyle. Now kin we have our brass and be off?”
The second man, catching sight of his companion’s sombre expression, nodded in solemn agreement. “Ah…Fred’s right, Mister Doyle. Our job’s finished here. We don’t want ter get into bigger trouble. Do we, Fred?”
Fred heaved a doleful sigh. “Robbin’ and stealin’s one thing, Mister Doyle, but kidnappin’s another. I don’t want no transportation sentence if we gets caught. We might even be hanged if somethin’ goes wrong and she gets killed. Ain’t that right, Pete?”
The second man gasped in horror. “Yeah!”
Edgar flushed red and banged his fist on the table. “Listen to me, you two dim-witted oafs. We’ve been on many a trick together and I’ve seen you right. There’ll be no ducking out of this now.”
Fred persisted, his anxiety clearly giving him confidence to stand up to Edgar. “Yeah, but Mister Doyle, them other jobs was with rich coves all tucked up in their beds, asleep at night. This Missy here, well, she’s seen our faces. She kin identificate us.”
Roxanne quickly shut her eyes.
Edgar laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. “Exactly, so make sure you see this through to the end!” He stood up and sauntered over to Roxanne. He kicked her leg so that she opened her eyes, her stare blazing hatred. “Oh, good,” he sneered, “I was afraid you’d lost your spirit.” He squatted down next to her. “Now listen to me, my beauty. Your precious fiancé has two days to come up with the money for your ransom.”
She made protesting sounds. He held up one hand.
“No need to worry. I know he does not have the money. But his rich old aunt and your rich old aunt will come up with the brass, so the ransom will be paid.” He sighed. “Not the most salubrious of surroundings, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here until I get the money. I chose the slums because no one will ever dream of searching for you here. Don’t worry, Fred and Pete will look after you.”
He lifted his head and sniffed the air. “I know. Horrible, isn’t it. Pigs. They shouldn’t keep the animals in town, but what can you do when people don’t obey the by-laws.” He stroked her cheek as he stared at her, his flat pebble gaze boring right into her. “Such a pity I have to give you back unblemished. I would like to make you pay for the insults you have so easily given me.”
Roxanne stared back at him. He stood up, seeming to have lost interest in tormenting her.
“Guv?” The second man, Pete, turned his head towards the door. “I heard a noise.”
Edgar moved like lightning. “Quick!” He extinguished the candles. “Hide!”
“Hide?” said Fred. “Where in bleedin’ hell are we gonna hide?”
“Shut up!” said Edgar in a hoarse whisper.
In the darkness Roxanne could not see what the men were doing. She could only hear slight noises as they crouched behind the door. The door creaked and then swung fully open as someone entered the room.
“Roxanne?” Julian whispered.
She made a frantic gurgling sound to warn him, but he came right into the room and lit a match. In the flickering flame she saw his dear face, strained, anxious, and then suddenly alight with his wonderful boyish smile. Behind him loomed the figure of Edgar, his arm raised, something held in his hand. Roxanne shrieked, but it was a muffled gurgle more than a shriek. Julian turned and then the flame died.
She heard the sound of thumps, yells, bodies crashing against the furniture, a scream that died. Then came what seemed to be a thunder of boots running up the stairs and shoulders crashing against the door. Swaying lamps illuminated a group of men who quickly grabbed Edgar and held him fast. Then she saw Edgar, his arms gripped by two burly constables, and Skelton holding his lamp high so another constable could tie Edgar’s hands behind his back. To her astonishment, Mr. Clarkson leaped to assist Julian, who lay on the floor, blood spurting between his fingers as he held his left shoulder.
Then Skelton set down his lamp and ran to her. “Milady! Are you all right?”
Nodding, she contained her impatience until he had untied her and removed the gag from her mouth.
She could hardly stand from being tied up so tightly, but somehow she got to Julian’s side and held him in her arms. “My dearest, my love,” she gasped, kissing and stroking his forehead.
Julian said, “Thank God you are safe!” before fainting.
Roxanne looked up into Mr. Clarkson’s face. “Dear sir, how happy I am to see you! What is going on?”
“Come, Mrs. Wilkins,” he said, helping her to his feet. “Let us get your husband to the surgeon while the constables take these men into custody.”
She looked at Fred and his companion who were huddled into the corner, trying ineffectually to resist arrest.
Fred glanced up at her and cried out, “We didna hurt you, Missy. Tell them, please!”
Roxanne addressed the constable who seemed to be in charge. “May I say a word on behalf of Mr. Doyle’s associates?”
“Speak, ma’am,” he said, “for they’ll need all the help they can get in court. This looks to be a hanging matter.”
Pete gave a faint moan and collapsed in a heap.
Roxanne said, “I cannot forgive their actions for kidnapping me, but, in their defence, I should state they never hurt me in any way. I am well acquainted with the monster and scoun
drel Mr. Doyle. He is a blackguard and a man who is easily able to persuade those less clever-witted. I am sure that under his pernicious influence these two men would have done anything he suggested.”
The constable frowned. “Well, ma’am, if you’re prepared to swear to this in court then your testimony might help them when it comes to the sentencing. Perhaps they’ll escape the end of a rope.”
“I am happy to do so,” said Roxanne.
“Bless yer kind words, milady,” cried out the first man. “Remember my name when the time comes. It’s Fred, milady.”
Mr. Clarkson took her arm. “Come now, we must get away from this terrible place!”
Chapter Twenty-One
“So tell me again, Mr. Clarkson, how you came to rescue everyone?” asked Lady Derwent, as she poured tea into the cups. “It seems an age since it all happened although I am sure it has only been several days.”
Mr. Clarkson blushed fiery red and made a protesting noise.
“Now do not be shy, sir,” said Roxanne. “We are all agog to hear for, despite being players in Edgar’s dreadful scenario, we were unaware of what everyone else knew and what they were going to do.”
Mr. Clarkson took a large fortifying sip of tea and said, “When I left Lady Derwent’s house last night I did not go home. I knew that rascal Doyle was up to something.”
“How did you know, dear Mr. Clarkson?” asked Miss Skittering. Roxanne noticed how her friend sat as close to her admirer as decorum would allow. Wearing an extremely fetching bonnet trimmed with pink silk daisies, Miss Skittering glanced up at him from under the brim and fluttered her eyelashes.
“It was a feeling,” he said, “possibly something I picked up during my travels in India, where one must always be on guard against robbers and criminals who prey on unsuspecting travellers. They call them dacoits.”
“Dacoits.” Miss Skittering repeated the word as if savouring the sound. She leaned over to address Julian who was propped up in an armchair with several cushions. His shoulder had been bandaged by Dr. Evans, who had come out in the middle of the night to attend to the wound.
“I suppose you endured similar horrors when you were abducted by the Chinese pirates recently, sir?”
Julian replied solemnly, “Possibly, ma’am.”
Miss Skittering put a forefinger against her lips and whispered, “And no one must ever know of this?”
He said, equally solemnly, “Never! The secrets of the nation rest in your hands.”
“You can rely on me, sir,” she said. Then she looked up at Mr. Clarkson and tugged his sleeve. “Pray continue, Mr. Clarkson.”
Roxanne wanted to burst out laughing. They had all agreed to keep the secret of the Chinese pirates and Roxanne’s false name, letting Miss Skittering believe that Julian had assumed a pseudonym while on a government mission to China. The Chinese pirates, led by their agent, Edgar Doyle, had exacted revenge upon Roxanne when Julian escaped their clutches. One of the reasons was because Miss Skittering might just be able to keep such an elaborate secret; the other reason was to protect Roxanne from any public embarrassment if the true story behind Roxanne’s abduction got out. Roxanne also thought that to disabuse Miss Skittering of this romantic fantasy would destroy something in which she really enjoyed believing.
Mr. Clarkson continued, “I saw your man Skelton call the boy, little Jem, and I waited until you had all proceeded along to Avon Street. Then I made my way to the magistrate, woke him up, explained the situation as I understood it, and he sent along four strong constables to do the rest.”
“So brave,” whispered Miss Skittering, slipping her hand into his.
“What’s happened to Jem?” asked Julian as he sipped his tea.
Lady Derwent smiled. “What a sterling lad he is. I sent him home in the carriage with a huge hamper of food and ten shillings as his reward. His parents arrived not twenty minutes later saying there must have been a mistake. They sat here in the drawing room, huddled like frightened mice on the sofa, while I explained that Jem had done me a great service and he should be rewarded. Then I found out that although Jem is not strong on learning, he does know his letters. Apparently, Mrs. Hardcastle is literate and taught all her children to read and write. Jem also seems to have a gift with horses. I have sent Cummings to ask if Mr. Scrimshaw, the farrier, might have a place for him. I feel confident Jem will flourish in the trade.”
Roxanne clapped her hands. “What a happy ending, Aunt Cecily.”
Lady Derwent nodded and picked up her tea cup. “The father is unemployed, but not for lack of trying. He seems a good sober fellow who wants a job. I will make enquiries on his behalf.”
“What about Edgar?” asked Julian. He winced as he shifted into a more comfortable position.
Mr. Clarkson swallowed the last morsel of cake and announced, “He will be facing the magistrate and most likely transportation awaits him. It appears that Mr. Doyle has a long list of offences including theft, fraud and bigamy. He has been robbing houses in London with his two henchmen.”
“Bigamy?” cried Roxanne. She paled, terrified that her connection to Edgar would be revealed.
Mr. Clarkson stood up. “Yes, amazing isn’t it that so many women were willing to marry him. He has a friend, a drunken vicar, who performed the ceremonies. Then once he had appropriated whatever funds or assets the lady owned, he would run off. Of course all these marriages were false.”
“Why did these ladies not report him?” asked Miss Skittering, her face a picture of shock.
“Too embarrassed,” said Mr. Clarkson, offering her his arm. “He chose women who were recently widowed or left without the protection of a father, uncle, or brothers. His hunting ground was generally in small villages. Gossip would have been too much to bear, compounded with the shame and humiliation of being robbed and abandoned. These women kept quiet.”
When the couple had left, Roxanne turned to Julian. “So you knew when you came to Bath that I was married, albeit bigamously, to Edgar?”
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Alas, Aunt Cecily betrayed you by revealing the whole of it to me. I did not understand what hold he had on you and once I had made my own enquiries and shared that knowledge with what Mr. Clarkson discovered, it all became clear.” He looked at Lady Derwent, “But it was obvious from our conversation with him that he did not know Roxanne and I were actually married. He always thought we were only engaged.”
Lady Derwent looked relieved. “I was so afraid you would blurt it out in your anger. He might have decided he had a greater hold over you.”
“The thought of Roxanne being tied to that scoundrel made me sick to my stomach. Yet, I wonder why he did not tell me he was married to Roxanne already,” he mused. “Surely that was his trump card.”
Lady Derwent said, “Quite simply, my dear Julian, because then he would have lost his leverage. He reckoned that if you knew Roxanne was already a married woman you would not bother to pay the ransom. You might love her, but you could always marry someone else and find happiness.”
Julian turned to Roxanne. “I could never find happiness with anyone else, my love.”
Roxanne blushed. “I should never have married you and agreed to that iniquitous contract.”
He looked deep into her eyes. “Without that iniquitous contract, I would never have had the pleasure of knowing you and falling in love with you.”
Lady Derwent coughed loudly and stood up. “Please excuse me. I must ask Cook about tonight’s menu.”
She left the room but Roxanne hardly noticed.
“Falling in love with me? When did that happen?”
Julian looked at the ceiling and scratched his head, as if pretending to think hard. “Oh, let’s say the night I married you according to that wicked old rascal Great-Uncle Oswald’s terrible will.” He looked at her. “And when did you fall in love with me?”
She hung her head. “Possibly at the same time. When you kissed me, something happened to me.”
&
nbsp; He feigned great surprise. “No! How amazing we have had the same experience. Something happened to me as well.” He embraced her. “I cannot wait to get back to Penrose and have you all to myself. Everyone misses you most dreadfully.”
She laughed and then fell silent. “There is a problem.”
He clasped her hand. “There is no problem. I already know and I am overjoyed.”
She stared at him, her mouth open. “I haven’t even told you.”
He grinned in a wickedly charming way. “No, but so many other people have already done so.”
She touched her stomach. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
He placed one hand over hers. “I hope so.”
“Who told you?” she asked accusingly.
He pretended to think again. “Now let me see. First Mrs. Dawson congratulated me the day you left for London. Then Sophia sent me a congratulatory message the morning you disappeared. However, most of the letter was a horrible diatribe against me, blaming me for your precipitous departure. Sophia said that you had run away after discovering you were pregnant because of my stupid attitude towards children.” He kissed her gently. “I hope you forgive my folly. I cannot imagine why I clung to such an idiotic idea for so long.”
Roxanne said, “How on earth did you and Aunt Cecily contact each other?”
He laid a finger against the side of his nose. “Aha! Never underestimate the intellectual powers of old aunts. From one word, Penrose, which you inadvertently dropped in the conversation, Aunt Cecily cudgelled her brains and remembered a friendship from thirty years ago between her husband and Aunt Semphronia’s husband. Apparently, Lord Derwent had visited Penrose many years ago and loved it. She wrote to me that since I had an heir on the way it behooved me to make haste and come to Bath to claim you. Then Dr. Evans congratulated me last night once he learned I was your husband. And now you have just told me.”
Roxanne asked timidly, “After what you told me about your brother Bevin, why aren’t you angry?”
He pulled her into his arms, whispering in her ear, “I have it on good authority from Sophia that if I am to deny her son his cousin and playmate, she will never ever speak to me again.”
Married at Midnight: An Authentic Regency Romance Page 22