“We trade for the emerald?” his friend looked hopefully at a passing hack, thinking that they might seek the comfort of a dry room now that the Duke and the Viscount had withdrawn from the Prince’s party.
“First, we must deal with those incompetent nobodies with whom you formed an alliance. Mir will not be happy if we leave any witnesses.” The man strode forward into the muted lamplight to hail the cab. “You would not wish to make Mir unhappy.”
“No…no, I would not wish that on any man.”
EPILOGUE
TWO MONTHS LATER…
They would see the port of Calcutta by morning. Louis Levering had remained on deck even though it was well after dark. He hated the hole with a passion. Raised as a gentleman, he could not tolerate the absolute crudeness of his fellow inmates. It was strange that he had managed his own vulgarity before, but now he found crudeness beneath him. The others smelled of filth and decay, and the stench in the hole nauseated him beyond belief. Of late, he had bribed his jailers to allow him to stay on deck. Sleeping in the open, even chained to one of the masts, was a hundred times better than what awaited him below decks. Tonight, the wind, unseasonably cool, blew steadily, and a blanket was not to be used. He needed a bath—needed a change of clothes—needed to find a way out of this mess.Without a trial, the Prince had ordered his transportation to Australia, and now he found himself aboard ship with a penal colony as his destination.
Only once during his short incarceration in London did any of his former friends come to see him in prison—all of them afraid to associate with the man who had attacked the Prince Regent. The thoughts of his “so-called attack” brought a sneer to his lips. He had foolishly allowed Fowler and Worthing to manipulate him. Viscount Lexford, the man he had known as Allister Collins, practiced a sham for which he fell, costing him everything. Belatedly, Sir Louis had discovered that Gabriel Crowden held a reputation for being a “ghost” of a thief. He had played into their hands, and now he would pay the ultimate price. His only chance lay in Calcutta. Once before, he had aligned himself with a man known to hate both Fowler and Worthing. He had convinced his friends Heath Montford and Gavin Bradley to contact their former associate about what the Realm had done to him. Finally, a week later word came—a note on his meal tray—all it said was that help awaited him in Calcutta. Levering knew not what form that help might take, but he would gladly accept release. He would even serve the dark-skinned emissary he had met but twice before. Anything but Australia!
Restless, unable to sleep, he made his way to the railing. His chain barely allowed him the movement, but if he angled toward one of the three wooden traverse bulkheads, he could stand along the railing and feel the wind and mist in his face. “A few more hours,” he told himself as he looked out into the darkness. A starfilled sky had given him the hope that things would soon change.
Engrossed in his thoughts, Levering did not hear the sailor behind him. In a split second, the man held a knife to his throat, and Levering abandoned his thoughts of struggling. “I paid to be up here,” he croaked—the pressure of the man’s forearm across his Adam’s apple choking him.
“No one cares.”The sailor’s warm breath stung Levering’s cheek, a sharp contrast to the chilly air.
He tussled, desperately trying to see his attacker. “I do not understand.”
The man tightened his hold. “You caused my employer many headaches with your petty plans.” The menacing voice hissed near Sir Louis’s ear, and for once, Levering knew real fear.
“I can fix this.” He began to bargain. “I have friends meeting me in Calcutta. Tell me what you want, and I will make it right… amends can be made.”
The assailant chuckled lightly. “I am the one you were to meet in Calcutta.” Levering went still; the expanse of his problem spread wide to his imagination. “I want the emerald one of the Realm holds, but your bungling greed alerted them to my search. Now, I must find another way. Everything was progressing in my favor until you stepped in with your pathetic plan to blackmail Fowler.” Each word slithered from the man’s mouth, biting away Sir Louis’s confidence. “I resent such interference; a man who cannot control his own business is a pitiful excuse for a man.”
“What do you require of me?” Sweat rolled down Levering’s face despite the windy conditions.
“I require your death, Mr. Levering.Your ineptitude will haunt this earth no longer.” With a jerk of his wrist, the knife sliced Levering’s neck, cutting his carotid artery. Immediately, the man released Levering’s body, allowing it to drape like a drunken sailor over the railing. The chain held Louis Levering in place; his body dangled from the waist over the wooden banister, the blood draining from his blype and into the dark water of the Indian Ocean. Sir Louis, unable to fall into the water and incapable of climbing back on board to seek safety, his life dripping away, fought no more.
As the light broke on the horizon, the sailing master summoned the captain to the scene. “Who is he?” Levering’s body was laid out on the upper deck, the sailors who discovered him retrieving the lifeless form onto the wooden flooring.
“The one who attacked the Prince.” An old sailor jabbed at Levering’s body with the toe of his shoe, making sure the corpse no longer moved. “What shall we be doin’ with him, Captain?”
“Have the quartermaster fill out the proper paperwork—inform his family—let the Home Office know.Then dump him overboard. I do not want him littering the deck when we hit Calcutta. We would have too many questions to answer.”
“Yes, Sir.”The boatswain motioned for the two sailors who had found the body to come forward. “Should we find out who did this, Sir?”
“Why?”The Captain leveled a steady gaze on his junior officer. “Would anyone care? The man bribed someone to be up here. He took a chance by leaving the safety of the hole. If anyone asks, we let him out for exercise. A swift wind sent the mast turning, and the sail accidentally knocked him overboard. We tried to save him, but as it was night, we lost the man in the dark waters. For the record, tell everyone it is likely he was unconscious when he hit the water. We will hear enough from the port authorities for allowing him a moment of freedom, but it is nothing we have not heard before.”
“Yes, Captain. I will see to it, Sir.”
“Are you sure, Lucifer?” A little over a month later, Worthing and Kimbolt sat in the study at Linton Park.
The bulky-looking man turned his hat over in his hand. “I spoke to the sailor who found Sir Louis’s body the morning the Star of the East docked in Calcutta. He be swearing someone slit Levering’s throat during the night and left him to bleed to death. The captain ordered the men to throw Levering’s body overboard. Otherwise the Indian port authorities would be holding them to investigate the crime.”
Kimbolt added without thinking, “Shaheed Mir?”
“Probably,”Worthing contemplated this new information. “Levering’s attack in Hyde Park overlapped the Baloch’s one.”
Viscount Lexford and Lucifer had gone to Calcutta when the Realm discovered the note sent to Levering, but they were unable to prevent the attack on Sir Louis. Lucifer’s common-man appearance allowed him to move freely among the unwashed throngs found on Calcutta’s docks. He pretended to seek employment on the Star of the East, buying drinks for several sailors on day leave. “Most of the sailors, Sir, blended in easily with the natives,” Lucifer reported. “I followed as many as I could, but nothing proved worth the time I be spending.”
“Thank you, Lucifer, for your dedication. A bonus should come your way.” Worthing shook the man’s hand. “Why do you not find something to eat in the kitchen? I will have a room made up for you.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lucifer headed for the door, but he paused before leaving. “Excuse me,Viscount Worthing.”The man actually blushed with embarrassment. “I be wondering, Sir, if Hannah might be still serving your wife.”
Worthing laughed lightly at the probability of a love affair springing up between the two servants. “Hann
ah should be in the garden with Her Ladyship. I am sure she will be happy to acknowledge your return to Derbyshire.”
“Thank you, Sir.” A broad smile broke the lines of the giant’s face before he disappeared into the bowels of the house.
“One of us is going to lose a servant.”
Lexford ignored both the sarcasm and the truth in his friend’s words. “It appears likely.”
James took the seat behind the desk. “It will be with twisted pleasure that I tell Eleanor about Sir Louis’s ‘accident.’ Maybe that will give her the peace she has yet to find.” Kimbolt nodded his agreement. “Any other news, Kimbolt?”
“The Averettes and Miss Cashé have returned to Edinburgh. They insisted Miss Aldridge accompany them. Fowler grumbles about everything—nothing at Thorn Hall pleases him, but I expect you knew this already.”
“Surprisingly, I did not.” Worthing pretended to straighten a pile of letters. “And your relationship with Miss Cashémere?”
“The trip to Calcutta cut that short. It is all for the best, though; nothing could have come of it. I was just bored with London and the like.”
“I said the same thing when I visited Fowler at Thorn Hall.” Worthing said no more; he let Kimbolt draw his own conclusions. “How long will you stay with us?”
The viscount looked away, lost in his own thoughts. “Only for a few days; I need to return to my estate. My steward sends word that my presence is needed to deal with some of the cottagers.”
“Stay as long as you like.”
“I will give Lucifer a few days with Lady Worthing’s maid.” Kimbolt stood suddenly. “I think I will see if that boy of yours would enjoy a long ride.”
“I guarantee it. I told Daniel I would take him to Tattersalls soon. Ella and I want a few days in London before the weather changes. Derbyshire winters can be very confining.”
Obviously preoccupied with his own thoughts, Lexford did not comment. “I will have our horses saddled if you will send for Daniel.” Without looking back, Kimbolt strode from the room.
Watching him go,Worthing laughed to himself. “He has it bad.”
“Who has it bad?” Ella stood in the doorway.
James looked up and smiled, always happy to see her. “Kimbolt.” He rose to ring for a servant. “The Viscount is declaring a lack of interest in your Scottish cousin.” He caught Ella’s hand and brought her to a nearby chair. The servant appeared, and he asked for tea to be sent to them and for someone to fetch Daniel. “The Viscount swears that London bores him and now his estate needs him.”
“Sounds very familiar.” Ella mumbled as he bent to kiss her lips before taking a seat across from her.
“I said the same thing before I came to Thorn Hall to visit your brother, and look what it brought me.”
Ella arched an eyebrow. “An Amazon?”
“Exactly.”
“Lord Lexford has brought us news, which I hope you will find satisfying,” James began.
Ella looked up in anticipation. “Yes?”
“His Lordship and Lucifer have recently returned from Calcutta. Shepherd received word of someone wishing to aid the former baronet, and he sent the Viscount to stop the attempt to free Louis Levering.”
“And?” Ella held her breath.
James leaned forward for emphasis. “Sir Louis Levering has breathed his last breath. Those he sought as his friends have seen to his death. The former baronet aligned himself with Shaheed Mir, but Sir Louis did not understand how treacherous a Baloch warrior can be.”
“Then, it is over.” Ella expelled the words in a gush of air.
For long minutes, neither of them spoke, absorbing the news and how it might impact their lives. “It is,” James murmured softly. It was over for Ella, but he knew Mir still remained a danger to them all.
A light tap at the door announced his son. “Did you need me, Papa?”
James swallowed his thoughts and motioned the boy forward. “I wondered if you would do me favor?”
“Of course, Papa.”
“Viscount Lexford is staying with us for a few days, and he would enjoy a riding partner; but, unfortunately, I have other obligations. I thought you might keep Kimbolt company.”
Daniel’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I would like that, Papa.”
“Good. The Viscount is having your horse saddled. I suspect you should hurry along then.”
“Did you hear, Ella? I am to ride with the Viscount.”
Ella touched his hand, family suddenly taking center stage. “You will be careful.” James recognized how she tried not to smother his son with her attentions. Daniel wanted to be treated more as an adult; however, of late, she could not help herself, and James found that quite agreeable. “I worry when you take unnecessary chances.”
“I will ride with care,” their son assured her before bowing out of the room.
Tea arrived, and she poured them each a cup. “Daniel enjoys your mothering him,” James noted as he sipped the tea. He still was unsure how Ella took the news of Levering’s passing.
“Do you believe so? Sometimes I wonder if I do the right thing by Daniel. I want to protect him, but I know he needs his freedom.”
James smiled cautiously, as she completely ignored the repercussions of the baronet’s murder. “Trust me, if I told Daniel to be careful, he would think I treated him as a child.Yet, he thrives when you say such things. He never knew a mother’s love until you arrived at Linton Park.”
“Do you believe I could be a good mother? I mean, with my history, could I make a child a competent parent?” Ella bit her bottom lip, never a good sign as far as James was concerned. That action indicated something major troubled her, and he suspected that he understood.
“Ella, you are already a good mother. If you could hear Daniel go on and on to his friends about his mother, you would never doubt your worth. It is not of Elizabeth he speaks; it is of you.” It was a conversation they had had before. James placed his cup on a table and moved to kneel before her. He was waiting for the reality of life to hit her. “What troubles you, my Love?”
“Nothing.” She looked away, biting down harder on her lip.
James touched her mouth with his index finger. “This lip tells me otherwise. Talk to me, Ella; we are in this together.” He felt her shiver, but not with anticipation—with worry. James prepared to offer his comfort.
For several moments, she fought the tears misting her eyes. Finally, gulping for air, she blurted out, “I am with child.” She paused briefly before continuing. “This is not the way I had planned to tell you; something more romantic was hidden away in the back of my mind.” She paused longer, mustering her courage. “I have no time to learn to be a good mother,” she nearly whined. “I must know how now.”
James froze, her words impaling him to the spot. He had expected tears—expected self-recriminations—even expected some hysterics. He had not expected this. “Are… are you sure?” he stammered.
“I missed my courses twice, and now I can barely look at food without running to the chamber pot. I am as sure as a woman may be.”
She was not the least concerned with her former troubles. James had read her completely wrong. Yet, even now understanding her qualms, he still did not move. James’s mind calculated how far along she might be with child. He too had forgotten about their former difficulties. “Three months, maybe a bit more,” he thought aloud.
“I had my courses right before Nottingham. It is likely from before our vows or those early days in the manor house. Probably three and a half—closer to four.” Ella now noticed how frightened he looked. “You are happy, are you not, my Lord?”
Her words shook him out of his thoughts. He now considered how he would protect Ella. He had lost Elizabeth to childbirth, and nearly Georgina; James could not imagine what life might be without Ella. He almost wanted her never to bear him a child, to keep her safe. “Of course I am happy, my Love.You simply took me unawares.” Instinctively, he cupped her chin to ki
ss her tenderly. “We are… we are to have a child,” he continued to stutter. Meanwhile, his thoughts were on finding the best medical help possible. The village midwife would not do.
“I thought we might tell your parents together.” Ella spoke, but she remained unsure of his true feelings.
Allowing the news finally to speak to his heart, he was on his feet in one movement, lifting her from the chair. “I will carry you,” he insisted. “Anywhere you want to go.” He turned in circles, swinging her through the air. “We are to have a child.” He started toward the main staircase with her clutched to him. “First, we will tell the Earl.” Servants scurried to open doors.
“And then?” she giggled, noticing the dark desire now found in his eyes.
James stopped on the landing to nuzzle her neck with his lips. He whispered in her ear, “Then I plan to show you how much I adore you, Eleanor Kerrington. To prove you are the most precious thing in my life.”
“I love you.” She kissed him although several servants looked on. “Your father,” she reminded him when he responded to her.
“My father.” James smiled mischievously as he took the steps two at a time. Outside the Earl’s chambers, he motioned for Ella to open the door. When she did, James swept in, carrying his wife close to him.
“James?” his mother squealed, observing the odd display from her favorite chair.
Without ceremony, he announced, “Ella and I came to inform you that we are to have a child.” He turned immediately to leave with her still held close to his chest. “We will tell you more at supper. You will eat with us tonight, Sir,” he called over his shoulder as he left the room and turned toward his own bedchamber.
The Earl sputtered and then started laughing as soon as they were gone.
“He is certainly your son, Martin,” Camelia Kerrington noted with amusement, before tucking in her husband’s blanket, moving to sit next to him on the bed.
The Scandal of Lady Eleanor Page 32