Whoever the patient might be.
Diana had been told that he was a ratcatcher, but she had her doubts. Vincent was plainly frantic with worry. The man had some other importance to him. Perhaps, if she ever got the chance to speak with him, Vincent would explain his true relationship to the man.
Vincent did not emerge from his bedchamber until just before the arrival of Caldbeck’s family. The adults partook of a nuncheon and then had tea in the drawing room while Nurse—under the watchful eye of Throckmorton—presided over the nursery and naps in the children’s room. At mid-afternoon Nurse sent word that she and the Caldbeck nurse were taking the youngsters out for an airing.
Vincent stirred restlessly and glanced at his uncle, who nodded. Both of them stood.
“I believe I need some air, as well.” Vincent moved toward the door, followed by his uncle.
Diana turned to Catherine. “Shall we join them?”
They all strolled out to the gardens. Diana and Catherine found a comfortable spot on the lawn, sitting on a rustic seat shaded by a huge, old oak. Sunlight streamed through the branches and brightly illuminated the masses of flowers divided by the brick walks of the garden. A soft breeze ruffled their hair and Diana could hear bird calls in the shrubbery walk that lay just the other side of the flower borders. Caldbeck and Vincent sauntered on to where Nurse Marshaw and Caldbeck’s nurse supervised the children.
As they approached the little group, Vincent scanned the area warily. Having Selena and Bytham out of doors made him nervous, especially with all the hostile activity they had been experiencing. But he could hardly keep them mewed up in the house forever. Besides, the garden teemed with protection. In addition to himself and Charles, Vincent could see three footmen ranged around the edges with Throckmorton stationed at the far end.
The two of them paused for a moment where Selena sat beside Caldbeck’s nurse, admiring little Sarah. Charles touched his baby daughter’s hand with one finger and she promptly closed her tiny fist around it. As usual, Vincent could see no flicker of emotion on Charles’s face, but the gesture spoke volumes. He became aware of an ache in his throat.
Would a child of his own ever clutch his finger in that trusting way?
Selena broke into his reverie. “See how pretty she is, Papa. Can we have a baby, too?”
His uncle gave him a look which clearly said, Papa?
Vincent felt his neck turning red. The name always caused a moment of uneasiness, followed by one of longing. He shrugged at Charles and patted Selena on the shoulder. “You had best ask your mother that question.”
As they continued their tacitly agreed-upon patrol, he thought he actually saw a twinkle in Charles’s eye.
Bytham and young Edward, only a few months his junior, had launched a game of hide-and-seek in the knot garden. One head of straight black hair and one of golden curls bobbed up and down behind various plantings, and fits of giggles drifted to them on the wind. Vincent had just begun to relax and enjoy the comforting domestic scene when he saw Delamare riding up the drive.
His pleasant mood evaporated.
One way or another, the man was trouble. Delamare dismounted at the steps and handed his reins to a groom. He then set off toward the ladies and stood smiling down at Diana. Vincent scowled. Yes, he would soon have a chat with this potential brother.
He and Charles completed their circuit of the garden and moved back toward the trio under the tree. As they approached, Diana abruptly stood and called, “Bytham, that is far enough. Come back now.”
Vincent turned to see the little figure with the sun-drenched curls leave the knot garden, heading for the hidden paths of the shrubbery.
“Oh, dear. He knows he is not supposed to go there. He will get lost.” Diana started toward her son.
“I’ll get him.” Vincent signaled to Throckmorton and trotted off after the escapee. The boxer nodded and moved on an interception course.
“Charles.” Catherine stood and nodded at their son who had started in pursuit of Bytham. His lordship nodded and made for his heir, calling his name. Edward paused, then started reluctantly back toward his father.
A bad feeling came over Vincent. He picked up his pace. “Bytham, come back at once.”
Bytham laughed and waved. Drat! The little rascal was still playing least-in-sight. Vincent broke into a run. By this time the various footmen had also converged on the sheltered paths. Bytham ran into the shadows through a gap in the hedges and disappeared.
A very small gap.
Vincent and Throckmorton arrived at the spot at the same time, but neither of them could get through. Vincent pointed. Throckmorton nodded and dashed off, searching for the far entrance. Vincent went the other way. He knew exactly how to get into the walks, but by the time he did so, the fugitive was nowhere to be seen.
“Bytham!” No answer. Not even a giggle.
Real fear began to battle with annoyance. Vincent ran down one path and up another. No one. His next circuit brought him in sight of two of the footmen, but they both shook their heads when he hailed them. Maybe the boy had gone back to the garden. Vincent found a break in the hedge large enough to wriggle through and emerged into the sunlight.
Diana was hurrying toward him. “You didn’t find him?”
“No. I think he is hiding. He believes we are playing the game with him and Edward.”
“Let me look.” Diana started toward the entrance to the leafy maze.
“No! You may not be safe.” Vincent grasped her arm, alarm shooting through him. “Go back to Catherine and Charles.” Even as he spoke, Caldbeck handed his son over to his nurse and came toward them. “Stay with Charles.”
Diana turned back, reluctance in every line of her body. Out of the corner of his eye, Vincent saw Delamare step toward her. Did the man pose a threat to her? For a moment he was torn between finding Bytham and guarding Diana. But Charles would watch Delamare and Feetham kept his post near her as he had been instructed. Good man.
Throckmorton put his head out of the hedge, pointed and called, “I think I saw something that way, me lord. I’m going after him.”
As he ducked back into the bushes, Vincent realized that the path he indicated led back toward the lane. He ran for Delamare’s horse. Jerking the reins away from the groom, he vaulted into the saddle and cantered off down the drive. He peered into the trees and bushes along the side where he hoped Bytham would come out. Then, up ahead, around a bend in the lane, he heard the crackle of twigs breaking. He spurred forward.
And came to a rearing stop.
In the center of the road, astride a tall chestnut horse, sat Lord St. Edmunds.
He had Bytham in his arms.
Vincent’s heart went to his boots. St. Edmunds was not overtly threatening the boy, but he had one hand resting almost casually against Bytham’s chin and the other on his shoulder. One quick jerk would break his neck. St. Edmunds could do it before Vincent could draw the pistol from his belt. Vincent took a long, steadying breath. He could not make a mistake here.
“Good afternoon, St. Edmunds. I see you have found my ward.”
St. Edmunds smiled coldly. “Yes, it does seem so at last, does it not?”
Vincent nudged his mount forward. “I’m much obliged. I’ll take him.”
“Not yet.” St. Edmunds backed his horse a step. “I would like first to speak with his mother—privately.”
Not a chance. Vincent knew it was Diana that the conspirator wanted. Her son was only a means to that end. He considered possibilities. How could he arrange…
At that moment Throckmorton stepped out into the road from behind a tree. He had his pistol in his hand. St. Edmunds cast him a startled glance and tightened his hold on Bytham. Bytham whimpered. Throckmorton didn’t move, but held his weapon steady. St. Edmunds spoke to Vincent. “Tell him…”
Hoofbeats sounded a bit farther down the lane, behind St. Edmunds. He turned cautiously and looked over his shoulder. Vincent followed his gaze. Justinian Sudbury r
ode around a curve and drew rein, the gun in his saddle holster clearly visible. He nodded amiably. “Servant, St. Edmunds.”
Who would Sudbury support? Vincent held his breath.
St. Edmunds studied each of the three of them in turn.
Then he slowly eased Bytham to the ground.
Vincent breathed again. Throckmorton stepped forward and, taking Bytham into his arms, quickly disappeared into the shrubbery. St. Edmunds looked at Vincent with raised eyebrows.
Vincent smiled grimly, his hand on his pistol. “I believe, my lord, that you should come up to Inglewood with me for a bit of conversation.”
Diana let out a sigh of relief as Throckmorton, surrounded by the other footmen, came through the hedge. Bytham was safe in the big man’s strong arms.
At her elbow Delamare said, “The little brat deserves a good hiding.”
Diana frowned. “I do not beat my children, sir. He must learn to obey, yes, but he is very young yet.”
Delamare shrugged. “He caused you a great deal of anxiety.”
“Children do that all too often.” She relented and smiled at him. Perhaps she had become a bit too defensive of her children. “It is the cost of parenthood.”
He reflected the smile. “Something about which I know very little.” He looked back toward the drive. “At least my horse is being returned. But who is that with Vincent and Sudbury?”
Diana followed his gaze. “Dear God! St. Edmunds.”
“Is it, indeed?” Delamare squinted. “Yes, I do believe you are correct. What is he doing here?”
Panic gripped Diana. “Throckmorton,” she called. “Take the children into the house at once.”
But Throckmorton was not waiting to be told. He had reached Nurse and Selena, and was shooing them inside.
Caldbeck had already sent his family back to the drawing room, but he cast a quick glance at the doorway, as if to be sure they were safe, and another at the shrubbery. “I believe we should all go in immediately.”
The hair rose on Diana’s neck. She took one running step toward her children before the sound of a shot split the air. A shower of bark from the tree beside her spattered her face. She jerked away from it, and Delamare grabbed her elbow, spinning her in front of him, away from the hedges.
Caldbeck took her other arm, and they ran, taking her along with them. Feetham pounded along behind her, thus surrounding her with bodies. Her feet barely touched the ground. Their momentum lifted her up the stairs and they all four stumbled into the entryway.
Behind her she heard galloping horses, but Diana could not spare them any attention. She ran for Bytham and Selena. “Get the children upstairs!”
She followed them up, fumbling for the small pistol in her pocket. They all reached the bedchamber door at the same time, and Diana crowded in with Nurse and Throckmorton. She turned the key in the lock and pointed the gun at the door, her knuckles white.
Behind her, Throckmorton’s big hand settled on her shoulder. “All’s well for now, me lady. There is no one there. They are safe.”
Diana’s knees buckled and she sank to the floor.
Vincent had abandoned any pretense of courtesy. He hustled St. Edmunds into his library at pistol point and left Sudbury to watch him while Vincent conferred with Charles and went upstairs to reassure himself of everyone’s safety.
Only to find blood once more on Diana’s white face.
Vincent’s anger boiled. He left Nurse ministering to the injury and stomped back down the stairs to the library. He did not like to picture himself shooting a man in cold blood, but he would have a battle with himself not to put a bullet through St. Edmunds on the spot.
He had been certain when the shot sounded that St. Edmunds would bolt while everyone sought cover, but he had not. Instead he had galloped up to the door with Vincent and Sudbury and dashed into the house with them—as though he feared for his own hide. Well, if he did not before, he should certainly fear for it now. Vincent stalked into the library and slammed the door.
And remembered Sudbury. He could not discuss the matters he intended to discuss in front of him. Sudbury was proving himself as a friend, but Vincent was loathe to involve him in the espionage. Vincent turned to him. “Much obliged for your assistance, Sudbury. We need to speak later. But now, if you don’t mind, I need a word alone with Lord St. Edmunds.”
Sudbury nodded toward St. Edmunds. “His coat.”
Of course! What was he thinking? The stocky lord almost certainly carried a weapon. “My lord, would you be so good as to remove your coat?”
St. Edmunds did so without comment and handed the garment to Sudbury. Sudbury patted the pocket, walked around St. Edmunds and pulled a knife from the back of his waistband. Then he nodded again and left the room.
Vincent motioned St. Edmunds to a chair and sat behind his desk. They watched one another silently until, at last, Vincent sighed. “I believe, my lord, that we are both checked, if not mated.”
St. Edmunds inclined his head and compressed his lips. “Just so.”
“I cannot prove that you are planning the escape of Bonaparte, but I can render you ineffective.” Vincent leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I have already written to my superiors about your involvement in the scheme. You will be watched too closely to continue. In fact, a list of your associates has also been forwarded to them. Napoleon will have to put his dependence on some other group.”
“Which he will do. Never doubt it, Lonsdale. Bonaparte will return. Mark my words. The Bourbon king cannot rule France.” St. Edmunds thought for a heartbeat. “I’ll allow that your people have baulked mine. But your usefulness to the Foreign Office is also at an end. You are known. I have seen to that.” He crossed his legs and flicked a crumb of dirt from his boot. “I had grown suspicious of you. When you absconded with Lady Diana, I was certain.”
Vincent crossed his arms, his brows drawn together. He spoke between gritted teeth. “Apparently, having failed to control her, you have decided to kill her.”
St. Edmunds put up a hand. “No, no. Not I. But there are those… I did all I could to avoid it. I admire Lady Diana, but I could not allow her to communicate our plans.”
“What plans? She tells me she knows nothing. Do you really think Corby told her anything that he did not tell the whole world?”
“I do not know what Corby told her, or even exactly how much he knew about our arrangements. What I absolutely could not allow was for her to tell any of it to Deimos.”
“Deimos!” Vincent jumped to his feet and leaned his fists on the desk. “What does Deimos have to do with Lady Diana?”
“So you do not know.” St. Edmunds smiled faintly with satisfaction at his reaction. “I do not know exactly myself. I came into her sitting room one day in time to see her hastily toss a paper into the fire. She left then to fetch Corby, and I was able to pluck the note out of the flames. Most of it had been consumed, but the signature was plain.”
“Does he now serve the Bourbon king?” Vincent sat down and covered his mouth with one hand, pondering this revelation. Deimos. Of all men. What in the world had Diana to do with him?
St. Edmunds shook his head. “I don’t know who he serves at present. One can never tell with Deimos. My people cannot find him. I suggest you ask Lady Diana.”
By God he would do that! How could she have been keeping such a thing secret from him? That must be what she had been wanting to speak with him about. He prayed that it was.
But now he had another problem to solve. “And what am I to do with you? I can prove nothing against you, yet I have no doubt you are still a danger to Lady Diana and her children.”
St. Edmunds smiled a half smile. “I doubt that I will be for long. Why do you think I came here instead of taking to my heels when that shot sounded?”
Vincent gazed at him with narrowed eyes. “Tell me.”
“I have failed to control her. Or kill her. I should have done so immediately, but I wanted…” He shrugged. “
I am known. My plans are known. You think you are acquainted with all of my associates, but you are not. You do not know who fired that shot today.” He stared at the books for a space. “But I do.”
“Will you tell me?”
St. Edmunds shook his head silently.
“Not even to save your life?”
More silence.
“I will not keep you here.”
“I do not expect it.” St. Edmunds got to his feet and walked to the door. “Good day to you, Lonsdale.”
As Vincent watched him close the door, he heard a sound at the window. He turned to see Sudbury standing outside.
Sudbury saluted and walked away.
Bloody hell.
Deimos?
The rest of the afternoon had been very confused. Diana refused to leave Selena and Bytham, but Catherine came up to inquire as to her welfare and to tell her that Caldbeck was insisting that she and the children go home immediately. He would see them safe and return.
“I would not think of abandoning you except that I must consider Edward and Sarah.” She embraced Diana warmly, a tear in her eye. “I know myself how hard it is not to be frightened, but I’m sure Vincent will keep you safe. Be brave, and be very careful.”
Diana thanked her with a catch in her own throat.
Shortly thereafter, a footmen brought Diana a message from Delamare asking after her and saying the he would remain at Inglewood as long as she might be in danger. In answer to her question, the footman told her that St. Edmunds had ridden away.
What did that mean? Why did Vincent let him go? And why had he not come up?
No sooner than she asked the question, another tap at the door announced Vincent’s presence. He came in looking very grim.
Diana barely restrained herself from falling into his arms. “What has happened? Where has St. Edmunds gone? Oh, Vincent! I simply must speak with you.”
“Let us go to your bedchamber.” He opened the door and followed her out into the hall. When they were safely in her room, she turned and stood by the bed. “Vincent, there is something you must know. Something I should have told you before, but until recently I did not think—”
Earth, Air, Fire, and Water 04 - A Treacherous Proposition Page 23