Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  He did not even care that it was uncouth to say this out loud, did not care that both the jeweler and his steward looked at him wide eyes at the declaration.

  “Your Grace, if your current condition is any indication, I am certain many would be aware of your feelings for Miss Evans, and your reluctance to wed Lady Frances.”

  Maxwell agreed. “Indeed, I have been a fool. I have endangered Miss Evans. She told me time and again that the repercussions of my pursuing her could be dire. I had not considered that I would physically endanger her.”

  Mr. Holmes sneered at him. “No, you were only willing to compromise her reputation.”

  “Mr. Holmes, do not speak to His Grace in such a manner.”

  “It is alright, James, Mr. Holmes is quite right. I have much to answer for when it come to my behavior, but that must wait. We must first find Miss Evans.” He turned to his steward. “You know London well, do you not?”

  He happened to know that James had grown up in London and still had many relatives in the city. While he lived in a cottage near Hawthorn Hall most of the year, he spent many a weekend in the city.

  “I do.”

  “Good. Take the carriage and make inquiries of your acquaintances in the area and see if anyone has heard or seen anything. Spare no expense, should information come at a cost. Meet me back at Woodley House by six in the evening. I shall make inquiries with the authorities in the meantime.”

  With a stern nod of the head, the steward took his orders and went on his way.

  “I shall leave Your Grace as well. I too, have contacts I wish to convene with,” the old man said.

  Maxwell frowned. Who could the old man possibly know that might help in such a situation as this? He chose not to question him. He had to be out of his wits with worry as well. If speaking with his old gentlemen friends would help alleviate his fears somewhat, who was Maxwell to argue?

  The old man was getting ready to depart when he stopped and turned to Maxwell once more.

  “Much has been said that was to be kept quiet over the past few minutes. What is one more secret spilled?”

  Maxwell tiled his head and listened intently. “Go on, please.”

  “When we find her, Your Grace should know the truth. She is a dear girl, but fearful of love. She had been resistant all her life to feel the things she feels for you. But she does. Feel them. As much as Your Grace. If Your Grace is honorable and true about his intentions toward her, then he should fight for her. But only if he is honorable and true, for her heart can bear no more suffering.”

  Maxwell wetted his lips and let the words sink in. “I assure you, Mr. Holmes, I have never been more certain than I am now. I wish to make her my wife. I do not care about society’s demands or expectations. I will ensure she is safe, and that she is looked after. I promise you.”

  The old man responded with a nod and departed, leaving Maxwell behind.

  * * *

  Six o’clock came and went. At a quarter past the hour, Maxwell exited Woodley House and paced the street in anticipation of James’ arrival. He had spent the afternoon speaking at the magistrate’s office attempting to report Miss Evans missing to the Bow Street Runners. However, they did not appear inclined to assist. Since Mr. Holmes had just recently seen her, and since all he had in terms of proof was the disarray in her house and nothing but Mr. Holmes’s word of the prior intrusion, they were not willing to expend themselves just yet.

  It was with great relief that he saw the carriage arrive with the steward. The man stopped the carriage outside the house and jumped out when he saw Maxwell.

  “Your Grace! I have news!” He shouted down the street. Maxwell knew him to be a very proper man and shouting aloud on the street was not something he’d ever seen or heard him do. Something must have alarmed him.

  “Tell me what you have found out!” Maxwell demanded of him as soon as they were close enough to speak without yelling. They walked the few steps to the front door together while James spoke hastily of his discoveries.

  “I have not found the young lady as yet, however, my sources directed me to St. Giles.”

  “St. Giles? By Jove! Why would they take her there?”

  St. Giles is one of the worst areas in all of London. Poor Miss Evans must be frightened out of her mind if she was taken there. I must ensure her safe return.

  “Unknown, Your Grace. After much inquiry, I found myself in a rather shabby tavern, on the outskirts of St. Giles. The innkeeper informed me that he sees much suspicious activity around the area. It was not until a considerable amount of guinea had exchanged hands that it pleased him to be more specific.”

  “I do not care about the cost of the information, as long as the information is good.”

  “I believe it to be, Your Grace. The innkeeper informed me that a group of fellows that are known to be rogues, came in the tavern last night. They stayed the night and departed this morning. He overheard them talking about a woman in their keep. There was some discussion over whether or not they would request higher payment for the delivery, given the fight the woman had put up.”

  Maxwell smiled despite the seriousness of the situation. He could imagine Miss Evans was not one to go lightly with any possible abductor and would put up quite the fight.

  “Did they say where they would take her or who ordered them to do so?”

  James shook his head as they entered the house.

  “They did not. Or rather, he did not hear. He informed me they departed an hour or so before I arrived, further into the St. Giles rookery.”

  “Right, I thank you. I shall ride to St. Giles myself and investigate further.”

  James’s eyes bulged. “You cannot, Your Grace. It is most dangerous. It is why I returned, for I did not feel it safe to go there at this hour without company.”

  Maxwell shook his head.

  “Fret not, I shall not ask you to go with me. I shall stop by White’s and collect Lord Hendley and some of his friends to accompany me. I thank you for all you have done for me this day, James. Now, please rest and have the cook prepare you a meal. I shall return at the earliest opportunity.”

  Knowing when to pick his battles, the steward chose not to argue the matter further.

  “Before you go, Your Grace, you should know that the innkeeper informed me I was not the first to inquire about Miss Evans today. Another fellow came by just before I did, asking the same questions as I.”

  Maxwell frowned. Perhaps her friend, Mr. Holmes, had influential friends after all. He could think of no other person who would have made inquiries about Miss Evans.

  He decided not to waste any more time thinking about the matter, as he had more pressing issues to attend to. He called for a horse to be readied for him, since he intended to set out for St. Giles at once. And contrary to what he had told James, he had no intention of taking anyone with him. Time was wasting as it was, he had to go at once and he had to do it alone.

  Chapter 33

  Alexandra woke on the bed. She saw lights outside and wondered just how long she’d been asleep. She did not recall going to sleep at all but evidently, she had. Her arms were asleep for they were still tied to the headboard behind her, and the gag remained in her mouth. Her knees and head hurt, and she wondered if she’d bumped her head when falling in the kitchen as it throbbed a great deal. Voices sounded out from the room next to hers.

  “I don’t like this. We’re sitting here and waiting, for what? We should have known where to take her before we took her!” It was the fake Scot, speaking without his accent.

  “He didn’t tell us, did he? Snatch her, he said. You’ll get instructions later. Take her to the tavern. So here we are, aren’t we?” She recognized this voice as the tall man. A third person spoke up.

  “We move her as soon as the sun goes down. Those are the instructions. She’s headed for Dover. DeBargh will join is later today to take her there. He’ll take over once we reach Dover.”

  Dover? Alexandra’s ears perked up. W
hy to Dover? And who is DeBargh?

  A few moments later, the door opened and one of the men came inside, carrying a cup of ale and a piece of bread. He set it down on the table next to her bed and stared at her.

  “I shall take off your gag so you can eat. If you scream or make any noise, it goes right back in. Understand me?”

  She nodded. She was famished. The moment the gag came off she addressed the man.

  “Why was I taken? I do not understand what you want with me.”

  He did not reply and instead held the cup up to her mouth. Having been starved and without drink since yesterday, she gave in and gulped the liquid down. He was gruff and poured it too fast, so it ran down her chin and onto her dress. She tilted her head, so he’d take the cup away. Before she could say anything else, he shoved the bread at her.

  “Eat. You have a long journey ahead.”

  “A journey where? Where are you taking me? Why am I going to Dover?”

  The man threw the bread down onto the table.

  “I said, no talking. You do not listen, so I assume you are not hungry.” He forced the gag back around her mouth. “No matter. We will try again when you wake.”

  Wake? I just woke.

  She was confused and scared and watched as the man picked up the cup and bread and departed. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she found herself getting woozy. The room spun around her and she realized just what he’d been talking about. They had put something in the ale.

  * * *

  When next she woke, she was in the back of the carriage again, her head resting on dirty, smelly straw. She found that her face was not covered, so at least she could see.

  The carriage was once again in motion, but there was no light coming through the cracks in the wood. Alexandra was in darkness and she was disoriented. She’d tried to count the turns the carriage took when they first set out, so to have an idea where they were but she’d lost count even before being knocked on her head.

  They could be anywhere now for she had no idea which direction they’d gone.

  What do they want with me? It is not my fault the Duke would not leave me alone. I did not seek him out. Whoever has commissioned these men certainly must understand. They cannot aim to harm me for actions undertaken by the Duke, who is not even aware of any of this.

  Suddenly, the sound of a rapidly approaching carriage drew her attention. It was coming from behind them. In fact, there were two carriages approaching, one from the left, and one from the right and both at rapid speed.

  She heard them pass and then, everything came to a stop. The horses pulling her carriage bucked and neighed loudly and she was tossed around the back. Loud voices rose outside, getting louder with each passing moment. Suddenly, there were sounds of fighting. The voices grew louder and louder. She recognized two of her abductors, now sounding much less menacing and rather panicked.

  What is happening? Who are these people attacking my abductors? What will they do to me? I am a matchmaker, not a politician nor a member of the royal family. It seems rather curious I should find myself in such a scrape.

  Finally, the sounds of fighting ceased and the door to the carriage was ripped open. A man held a torch and she blinked to let her eyes adjust to the light when she recognized him.

  “Mr. Holmes?”

  Could it be? What was he doing here? How did he find me and what –

  “Dear child!” he cried out as he climbed into the carriage and freed her from the gag in her mouth. Another man was with him and there were more men off in the distance.

  “Are you injured?” The other man undid the ties around her arms while Mr. Holmes inspected her forehead. He gently touched a tender spot on her head. She must have hit it during her fall because she found herself wincing at the touch.

  “Oh, poor child. It is alright. We will take care of you now. Come, let us get you out of this carriage.” He and the other man assisted her in getting out of the vehicle. She found herself oddly off balance, perhaps due to the blow to the head.

  She recognized nothing of where she was. The area was entirely unfamiliar. A putrid smell of sewer hung in the air. She glanced around and suddenly spotted a landmark. St. Giles in the Fields Church loomed in the distance and she knew at once where they were.

  It was the middle of the rookery. A terrible place to visit, let alone live. The area was well known to be a center for diseases and crime alike. No sane person would venture here by day, let alone night.

  She followed Mr. Holmes around the carriage she’d been in and saw two of her abductors, the fake Scot and the other man who had originally paid her a visit, sitting on the ground, bound and gagged. Alongside them was another rough looking man, the one who’d been by the house with the tall one, the one who’d helped take her. There was now a fourth, well-dressed man. He had the air of a higher born man, not noble perhaps but certainly not the kind to mingle with thugs in the rookery. He could have been a barrister by the looks of him. Curious.

  They were guarded by a group of young men who had evidently assisted Mr. Holmes in her rescue. They were gruff looking and not the kind of men you would want to get in trouble with.

  “How did you find me, Mr. Holmes? And who are your friends?”

  “I promise you, all will be revealed very shortly. For now, if you can just get into this carriage with me? Please?”

  He pointed toward another vehicle that sat across the way. It was unmarked just like the one she’d been in. In addition, there were two curricles on either side of the carriage she’d been held in. The vehicles she’d heard roaring past, no doubt. She entered the back of the carriage with Mr. Holmes while one of the younger men took the reins.

  “How did you find me?”

  Mr. Holmes inspected the bump on the back of her head carefully and examined her for any scrapes.

  “I have friends who helped. You have friends who helped. You will meet them soon. Patience, dear child.”

  He smiled at her the way he always had when she worried herself needlessly, though while that usually calmed her, today it unnerved her, for if this situation did not call for worry, what did? A thought came to her head. She grabbed the old man’s hand.

  “What of the Duke? Is he safe? They told me they would come for me as well as him if I did not do as they said.”

  He patted her hand with his. “The Duke is safe. He is frenzied with worry and out searching for you with assistance of his steward. We will ensure he knows you have been rescued. Now, rest and worry no more. We will arrive shortly.”

  “Arrive where?”

  Why will he not tell me how he found me? Who are these friends of which he speaks?

  * * *

  Alexandra had to wait patiently while the carriage made its way through St. Giles. It was a miserable area and she did not care to look outside, for the poverty and ill upkeep of the neighborhood made her sad. They were followed by the other two vehicles her rescuers had driven, as well as the carriage they had freed her from, now containing her former captors. As they passed St. Giles in the Fields, she glanced up at the big clock tower. It was a quarter past ten at night.

  * * *

  After half an hour, they stopped. Alexandra peeked outside. They were on the outskirts of St. Giles now. Though still rough, it was not as bad as in the center. She saw warehouses up ahead that were in slightly better condition than the houses she’d seen on the ride over.

  Mr. Holmes got out of the carriage and she followed him.

  “Where are we?”

  He pointed toward a door. “You will see.” She stayed close by his side as they entered. On the inside, the warehouse was well kept and turned out to be more of an office than a warehouse. She was led through a carpeted corridor, with fine paintings hanging on either side. What was this place? They stopped in front of a door and Mr. Holmes knocked.

  “Enter!” A gruff voice called from inside. He opened the door and motioned for her to step inside. As she did, she was struck by the interior. It
was an office fit for a London mansion or country estate. The furniture was heavy oak, with elaborate carvings. Fine tapestry and large paintings lined the walls and one entire wall was taken up by an impressive library. At the far end was a large desk and behind it sat a man.

  “Lord Alderth?” She could not believe her eyes. What was he doing here? She looked at Mr. Holmes for answer, but the old man simply smiled and pointed toward the Earl.

  “He will explain everything. And I will be right outside, should you need me.”

  Lord Alderth stood up and walked towards them.