Felicity hesitated. “I should leave a note.”
“No, this meeting must be kept a secret, or my brother’s life will be in danger. Besides, I will have you back before anyone even knows you were gone, I promise.”
“All right.” Felicity followed Rebecca to the back alley where a hack waited. They climbed into the hired conveyance and it rolled down the dark streets. Before long they drew up before a shabby storefront. The windows were boarded up and the building carried an air of neglect. Felicity paused on the carriage rung after Rebecca stepped down. “What are we doing here?”
“We must meet Monty in secret, Felicity. He is risking his life by speaking with you.” She turned to the coachman. “I will be but a few moments, my good man, and there will be an extra copper in it for you if you wait.”
“Yes, miss.” He tipped his hat and remained in his seat atop the hack.
“Come on, hurry now before someone sees.” Rebecca took Felicity’s hand and drew her along behind to the rear of the shop.
As they entered through a squeaky door Felicity spied a candle burning on a workbench. A figure sat beside it in the shadows with his feet resting on the dusty surface. He lowered his feet and turned toward them as they entered. Monty Carivale nodded. “Ah, Miss Beinfait, or I suppose I should address you as Lady Lancastor. I hear you have a theory as to whom this devilish Black Rider is?”
Rebecca shut and locked the door behind them and a shiver spread along Felicity’s spine. “I thought the Black Duke and the Black Rider were two separate legends…until Rebecca, that is…she believes they are one and the same.”
He stood. “Ah, yes. I know who they are.”
“They?” Felicity glanced at Rebecca, who leaned against the door with a smug smile. “Then they are two different men?”
“At first.” He strolled across the dirty floor with an air of nonchalance. “You see they started out as two different men, and the Black Rider just took on the persona of the first. Then again, I suppose the Black Rider and I are two separate personalities.”
Felicity took a step back, the hair on her arms prickling. “I am afraid I do not understand. Rebecca says you are working under cover of the authorities.”
He laughed and came to a halt scant inches from her. “I like working under the covers.”
His snicker made her regret following Rebecca. “I—I do not understand.”
He ran a finger down her neck to the scoop line of her night dress. “You see, I am the Black Rider.”
“You?” She looked up at his sneering face.
“Yes. I am. See, you are right about one thing, the late father of the current Duke of Lancastor did kill your father.”
She swallowed. “How do you know?”
“I was there.” He left the words to hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “Lord Lancastor was a hypocrite. You see, he hung your pa from a tree for having an affair with his wife and killing her, but he was the one who really threw her down the stairs. He found out about the affair and dealt his own justice.” He shook his head. “Strange how he thought the slight earned him the right to kill two people, yet he let his own indiscretions go unpunished.”
“What do you mean?”
“The late Lord Lancastor defiled many a marriage, just like his sorry get have. When I caught him slipping from my own mother’s bed, I made sure to even the score.”
Limbs shaking, Felicity backed away until her hip collided with a work bench. “You made everyone think he was the head of a hanging mob?”
“Oh he was. However, I convinced them to turn on him and follow me. They were quick to deal his own form of justice back upon him.”
She frowned. “But, Lord Lancastor died in a riding accident a year after he had my father hung.”
Monty tut-tutted. “That is what William wanted everyone to believe. He tried to shield himself from the stigma of having a father who had a face like a two sided coin. Anyway, I took on the persona of the Black Duke, but alas, I am just a lowly earl’s son, so of course, it was only right to adopt a better name. I bought that magnificent black stallion upon the duke’s demise and continued his work, which of course brings me to you, my dear Felicity.”
“Me?” Fear tightened her chest and she fought to remain outwardly calm.
“Well, as the Black Rider, I must see justice done. William Carnduff showed the apple does not fall far from the tree when he defiled you at his lodge—”
“No! William did nothing of the sort. It was I who kidnapped him for revenge. We got chained together by accident, but nothing happened.”
“Spare me your lies. I saw you, with well kissed lips and bed-mussed hair. What I do not understand is why you would defend his actions, when you yourself hold him accountable for the killing of your father. Why did you not kill him while you had him chained to the wall?” He raised a brow.
“I—I am not a killer, like you.”
He chuckled. “Oh I am no killer, I am but a vessel used by God to mete out his word and punishment.”
Gathering her courage, she met his eye with a steady stare. “God does not condone murder.”
“It says in the Bible an eye for an eye, and for men and women to keep to themselves and not commit adultery with another. Society as we know it is going to hell, Felicity, hell.”
“And you have appointed yourself judge and executioner?”
“Somebody had to.” He straightened his cravat with well-manicured fingers. “It is time I dealt out punishment on your husband for the wrongs he has done.”
“His punishment was already dealt by the judge,” Felicity protested. “He was sentenced to fund the church and marry me. It is all respectable now.”
He raised both brows and pondered her. “I find it curious you wanted to hold him accountable for his actions, yet after one tumble between the sheets and a marriage contract signed, you are ready to forgive all.”
She considered her own judgement of William with a critical mind’s eye. “I was wrong. It was wrong of me to want to punish him for the misdeeds of his sire, like I have been punished for the wrongs committed by mine and shunned.” She turned an accusing eye to Rebecca. “You made finishing school a living hell, why?”
Rebecca shrugged. “As my brother said, a bad apple never falls far from the tree that spawned it. You are the daughter of the man who caused my father to fall out of love with my mother. I was denied her love and guidance all these years because of that.”
“This is noddy.” Felicity strode to the door. “Open this door right now, Rebecca. I am going home.”
Monty clutched her arm in a painful grip. “I am afraid you are not going anywhere, Lady Lancastor. You see, your husband is the next on the list to be dealt with by the Black Rider, and I will not have you interfering.”
Felicity tried to shrug off his clasping hand. “You cannot keep me here!”
He jerked her back from the door and shoved her into his vacated chair. “Oh, but I can, and I will.”
When she opened her mouth to scream he pinned her to the chair and covered her mouth and nose with a damp cloth. The faint, sweet odor of chloroform filled her nostrils and she tried to break free. Her struggles were short-lived, as her mind spun, her eyes grew heavy, and her muscles went limp. Why did I not wake William?
Chapter Twenty-two
William tarried over a late breakfast the next morning, hoping to speak with Felicity. They had to settle the matter of their fathers once and for all. Their marriage could not survive a yoke of that size and nature about their necks. He was reading the same newspaper article for the third time, when Felicity’s maid entered the dining room.
“My lord, may I speak with you a moment?”
He set down his paper. By the maid’s uneasy stare and the shuffle of her feet, it appeared something was amiss. Had Felicity sent her down to inform him she did not want to dine with him? “What is it?” He steeled himself for Felicity’s rejection.
“It is Lady Lancastor, my lor
d.” The maid wrung her hands. “When I went to wake her this morning, she was not there.”
Pushing his anger down, he puzzled her statement. “What do you mean, she was not there?”
She blanched. “Her bedchamber is empty, my lord. Her clothing and personal items are all accounted for, but she is nowhere to be found.”
A smile curved his lips. “Did you check the garden? She most likely rose early and went out to see Pumpkin, the orange cat that lives in the gardener’s shed.”
The maid looked relieved. “I will go inquire of Joseph, my lord, thank you.”
He could not help but chuckle as the girl hurried away. Hopefully Felicity hadn’t gotten herself into any more trouble in the garden.
Ten minutes later the maid was back in even more distress than before. “My lord, she is nowhere to be found.”
“Well she must be here somewhere.”
Just then the butler entered the room. He handed William an envelope. “This just arrived by messenger, your grace.”
William opened the letter.
Dear Lord Lancastor,
I have decided our marriage is impossible. I will never forgive you for your father’s actions. I am leaving forever.
Un-regrettably,
Felicity Beinfait.
Anger bubbled hot and heavy against his breast as he tossed the letter on the table. How could she walk away after the passionate night they shared? How could she make him the laughing stock of London? He had to find her, if only to try and reason with her. Where would she have gone?
“Henry, has Lady Lancastor said anything to you about leaving?”
The butler blanched. “No, my lord, not a word.”
William sighed. “She was upset, and I should have made her speak her mind instead of leaving her be.”
“She was upset when she arrived home with Miss Carivale, my lord, but seemed fine when she apologized to me yesterday, though I told her it was not necessary.”
“She was out with Lady Rebecca Carivale?”
Henry nodded. “Lady Rebecca did give her a ride home. When I enquired of your coachman he said Lady Lancastor sent a shop boy to inform him she would be lunching with Lady Rebecca and get a ride home later with her.”
Alarmed, William scanned the note again. Felicity had no love for Rebecca Carivale, so why would she have had lunch with her and then accepted a ride home? Could Lady Rebecca have had something to do with Felicity’s decision to leave him? “Send a note around to Lady Rebecca to advise her I will be calling on her shortly.” Angry and hurt he headed to the stable to saddle his horse and calm down.
* * *
A weasel-faced butler admitted him to Lord Carivale’s home and showed him to the parlor. There he found Rebecca and her older brother Monty. “Carivale, Lady Rebecca, I am pleased you could see me on such short notice.”
Young Lord Carivale shook William’s hand. “What is so urgent you needed to speak with my sister unchaperoned?”
William took note of the defensive stance and the slight scowl on Monty’s face. “I assure you it is a matter of great importance, and thus my deviation from proper protocol.”
Rebecca picked up the teapot on the table. “Would you care for some tea, my lord?”
“No, thank you, Lady Rebecca.” William took a seat across from her. “It seems my new bride has…well, she has fled my house and I thought you may have some idea as to why and where she might have gone.”
“Me?” Lady Rebecca’s mouth formed a small and not quite convincing ‘o’ of surprise. “I have no idea why she would have left, my lord. Why did you think I might?”
He glanced at Monty, whose lips were pressed in a thin line. He was treading on thin ice if he accused her of anything outright. “Well, my butler did say you gave my wife a ride home and I thought perhaps she might have confided something of importance to you.”
She shook her head with wide innocent eyes. “No, I am afraid she did not, my lord, though she did seem upset about something.” Leaning forward she whispered, “I have heard it whispered about that you did take advantage of her at the hunting lodge, though by her own admission, it was she who seduced you, my lord. Highly shocking to a lady of my virginal upbringing, of course.”
Though she lowered her eyes in a demure demeanor, he did notice no flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Nothing happened at my lodge, Lady Rebecca, I assure you. It was all a simple misunderstanding and a case of a lost key. Your brother can attest to that.”
Monty cleared his throat. “I can attest to nothing, my lord, for I did see Miss Beinfait chained to you and in your bed, none the less, looking very well kissed.”
“Are you judging me, Carivale?”
The younger man shook his head. “Not at all, Lord Lancastor, I am merely stating the facts.”
William turned his attention back to Rebecca. “Can you think of anywhere, Lady Lancastor might have gone?”
Rebecca shrugged. “No, my lord, she has no family or friends. My best guess is she has gone somewhere to hide from all the speculation and embarrassment she has caused.”
Disappointed at not having gotten any answers, William rose to leave.
“I wish we could be of more help, William, but perhaps her leaving is the best thing in this situation. I realize it must be hard. All this has quite tarnished your reputation, but surely there are other young ladies of good breeding willing to entertain your suit, ones who do not hold your father’s faults against you.” Rebecca favored him with a sweet smile and her cheeks flushed, leaving no doubt as to whom she thought a lady of good breeding might be.
“Rebecca, bestill your tongue. ’Tis far from proper to offer yourself as bride material to any lord in such a forward manner,” her brother admonished. He turned to William. “I beg my sister’s pardon, my lord. She has had tender feelings for you since a young girl, I am afraid.”
William tugged at his cravat, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation’s turn. “I must be going now, thank you for your time, Lady Rebecca, Monty.” After offering a polite bow he fled the house.
Though nothing direct had been said, he could not fight the feeling the two Carivale siblings knew more than they let on. As he mounted his horse, he reviewed the conversation in his head. Apparently there was plenty of speculation and gossip floating around London regarding the incident at the lodge and his hasty marriage to his captor. Of course he had heard bits and pieces here and there, but had not given it much thought. Gossip mattered little to him and, in truth, it affected him very little. Therein lay the issue he had not spared a moment to consider. As a woman, Felicity would be privy to and at the mercy of the chatter and gossip mongers. Had Felicity run away to hide from the callous tongues of their peers? It did indeed seem a likely scenario, but where might she have gone? There was nowhere for her to go…was there? She had stolen a pony cart once before and made it to his lodge. Perhaps she had done so again? The lodge was a full day’s ride from the city. He looked up at the clouds dotting the horizon. If he left now he would make it well after dark, if the weather held. With a plan in mind, he headed back to the townhouse to have his valet pack a case and inform Henry of his journey.
Chapter Twenty-three
The creak of the closed coach grated on Felicity’s every nerve. Between her pounding head, her hip bouncing against the floor, and her dry mouth, she had to say she was not enjoying herself. Restless and stiff, she twisted, trying to loosen the ropes binding her hands and feet. As with the last dozen times, they did not budge. A tear slipped down her cheek as the rough fibers scraped the tender skin on her wrists. Why was Monty doing this to her? What had she ever done to him, or his vile sister?
The coach slowed and then came to a halt. The seat on the roof squeaked and then footsteps approached the door. It swung open and she blinked at the intrusive light. A young man grasped her by the ankles and hauled her across the floor, grinding dirt and splinters into her flesh. Ignoring her cries of pain, muffled by the h
andkerchief stuffed in her mouth, he hoisted her to his shoulder. She caught a brief glimpse of the duke’s hunting lodge before hanging upside down, face smothered by the back of his great coat.
His footsteps alternated between crunching through the patches of snow left over from the storm and slopping through slushy puddles to the door. A key clicked in the lock and the door opened with a soft squeak. The man stomped across the floor and plunked her onto one of the chairs by the fireplace.
Felicity shook the hair from her face and glared at him. He paid her no mind, as he set the logs in the hearth afire and stocked the pile to burn a while. When done, he turned her chair to face the fire at an angle and then wound another rope around it and her torso to keep her in place. Last he draped a blanket around her, tucking it tight under her chin. At least he cared she stayed warm, she supposed, though not enough to free her. Without another word, he went outside and shut the door, leaving her alone.
Her stomach growled. She had nothing to eat since the evening before. The light shining through the kitchen window was growing dim. It must be late afternoon, she guessed. When she woke up this morning, she found herself bound and gagged in the moving coach, proving the chloroform had put her out the whole night. It felt better to sit up. Still the change in position did nothing to ease the ache of her arms bound before her at the wrists. What did Monty Carivale have planned for her? She could not fathom what he was up to.
Before long the heat of the fire and the blanket cocoon lulled her into a fitful doze. The jangle of the carriage registered briefly before her mind slipped into a dream of being enveloped in a tempest of white. Over the wind howling in her dream, a door opened and closed followed by heavy footsteps. In a half-doze, she wondered if William had come for her. A door creaked shut and then there was nothing but silence. She slipped back into a light slumber, thinking she imagined the sound.
It was dark when she awoke again. The fire had burned down to coals, lending a meager light. She blinked and looked out the window at the blackness beyond the panes. It seemed William was not coming to rescue her, though why she expected him to know her whereabouts she could not fathom. She fought the foul piece of cloth in her mouth. It would not budge, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not form any saliva to coat her dry throat.
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