The Earl's American Heiress (HQR Historical)

by Carol Arens

  Everyone, from Mrs. Pierce to the youngest child, emerged from the coach and joined her on the porch.

  “Inform the duchess she has visitors.”

  “As I said, Lady Guthrie is not at home.”

  With an arrogantly blank expression, the butler began to close the door.

  Why, the churl!

  She slapped her hand on the door, preventing it from closing, and stepped inside.

  “Come along,” she smiled encouragingly at the group because they did look ill at ease to be walking boldly into the elegant foyer.

  The butler attempted to prevent her progress by stepping in front of her. She neatly went around him, her wide-eyed flock following in her righteous wake.

  “You need not accompany us,” she said with a backward glance at the red-faced servant. “I know my way to the tearoom.”

  It was a breach of the worst sort to rush in unannounced but with Heath’s life at stake she did not care.

  “Lady Fencroft?” The duchess set down her tea cup. One of her guests dropped hers. The expensive porcelain shattered on the stone floor.

  The butler sailed into the room, red-faced and arms waving madly. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but the woman and her ruffians stole past me. Shall I summon a constable?”

  “Smythe, inform the kitchen that there will be a dozen more for tea.” Lady Guthrie stood, opened her arms.

  Clementine rushed into them and all at once her tears began all over again.

  “I’m so sorry I forced you into this, my dear, had I any idea—”

  “Might I speak?” Mrs. Pierce interrupted. “Me and little Georgie?”

  It was highly improper for a commoner to interrupt a duchess, but it only spoke of the desperation of the matter at hand.

  “I’ve something to say, as well,” Creed declared.

  “As do I,” Ginny Sawyer added.

  “Come along.” Lady Guthrie led the way out of the tearoom, leaving her guests with their mouths open in astonishment.

  She led them to the parlor, indicating that those there was room for should sit. The butler followed, his puckered mouth showing his disapproval of their presence.

  “You may all speak,” Lady Guthrie said. Clementine noted that she stood and allowed three children to take her chair.

  Clearly, a true lady did not gain that status by title alone.

  One by one, each of them told how they had never been kidnapped, but rather rescued.

  “Won’t you help us free m’lord?” Little Georgie wiped his nose on his sleeve. “They, the constables, I mean, won’t listen to us all on our own.”

  Lady Guthrie patted Georgie’s head. “I dare say they will not. Smythe order my carriage at once.”

  “But Lady Guthrie!” he gasped.

  “Snobbery does not become you, Smythe. Order the carriage, then go to the kitchen and have Cook pack up a meal for the children.”

  * * *

  Heath’s cell was not so far from the front of the police station that he could not hear his sister’s voice.

  “I demand to be allowed to see my brother.”

  “It is against the rules.”

  What was she doing here? No one detested the Abductor more than she did.

  “Then I insist on speaking to someone above you. Someone who has the power to set aside a small rule.”

  “Lady Shaw, you must understand that Lord Fencroft is awaiting charges for a heinous crime.”

  “Which he did not commit.”

  “He was caught in the very act. Exposed by Lady Fencroft, who is now missing.”

  He could only hope that she stayed missing. That wherever Creed had taken her was where she would remain. The last thing he wanted was for her to become involved in all this.

  Now that she knew him to be the most wicked of the depraved, she probably would stay as far from London as she could. He hoped Creed had taken her to Derbyshire.

  And yet, a part of him wished that somehow she would feel his innocence. That she would trust him enough to see beyond what appeared to be true. That she would come to him in spite of everything.

  That she would love him in the face of what appeared to be the unshakable truth, that it would be her love for him that would be unshakable.

  Which, of course, was unreasonable to expect.

  At least Grandfather believed him. The old fellow had remained in his cell until dawn. For a man having two granddaughters missing, he seemed unflinching in his belief that all would be well.

  “If you do not let me speak to someone who can do something, it will be at the cost of your position.” Olivia’s voice sounded mild given what she was saying.

  “There is no one who will let you back there. The man is dangerous. We have men searching the Thames for Lady Fencroft’s body as we speak.”

  “As much as I appreciate the effort, you may quit looking, for here I am.”

  Clementine!

  “I insist upon seeing Lord Fencroft.”

  Heath shot to his feet, gripped the iron bars. For all that he yearned to see her, he did not want her here. She could not be seen to be supporting him.

  “I do not know how many times I must repeat that no one may see him.”

  Not without a bribe, clearly, since Grandfather had spent the night with him on the cold stone floor.

  “May not his wife see him, Officer Jones? In consideration of my Christmas donation to the Police League, you might feel more kindly toward the favor.”

  Lady Guthrie? What was happening out there?

  “I demand to see my husband.”

  What was she doing? Throwing herself into the pit with him? There was no reason for it.

  Except for love. There was that reason.

  “No!” he shouted but voices were rising in the outer room and he doubted anyone heard him.

  Seconds later, Officer Jones unlocked the cell door, secured handcuffs about his wrists and led him toward the growing commotion.

  The light out here was bright compared to what it had been in his cell. He blinked, trying to bring the figures filling the room into focus.

  Before his eyes adjusted to the change, he felt arms wrap around him, hug him tight.

  “I know you are innocent of it all,” Clementine whispered.

  “You believe it, or know it?”

  “Here! You cannot touch the prisoner!”

  “Both,” she said while the policeman tried to peel her fingers from his shirt.

  “Take your hands off my wife.” He shoved the fellow with his shoulder, breaking the contact.

  “It’s against the rules for anyone to touch a prisoner,” Officer Jones complained while rubbing his arm.

  “I find that I am quite weary of rules!” Lady Guthrie bustled forward. “This man has not committed a crime. You must set him free this moment.”

  “Meaning no disrespect, but his crime was one of the most wicked we’ve ever seen. Not even your position can free him.”

  “Nonsense.” Lady Guthrie extended her hand, palm up. “Where are the keys to the cuffs?”

  “If he’s found innocent, he will be released then.”

  He wouldn’t be, Heath knew. This separation from everyone he loved would be permanent.

  As he gazed at the group of children and adults from Rock Rose Cottage who were gathered in the small room, his heart rolled over. He could scarce believe they had come all the way from the seaside to support him.

  Looking at them, seeing the children alive and healthy, he knew the price he was about to pay was worth it.

  “There was no crime committed, sir.”

  “And who are you?”

  “Ginny Sawyer. It was reported that I was kidnapped, me and my babe. As you can see, we were not.”

  “Sawyer? But—he was seen taking you.” />
  “That was an assumption. In truth I went willingly. Lord Fencroft has given me and these others a home at his cottage near Folkestone, and all out of the goodness of his kind heart.”

  “What does he hold over you that you would defend him?” the constable gripping the keys asked in a rough voice. “Everyone knows the Abductor has a black soul.”

  “Officer, tell me, how many have been kidnapped?” Clementine suddenly sounded as regal, as in command, as Lady Guthrie did. In the midst of everything, he was proud of her.

  “Eleven, my lady.”

  “And how many in this room will avow they were not kidnapped?” She tapped the toe of her boot on the floor, crossed her arms over her chest and speared Officer Jones with “the look.”

  “Thirteen,” Mrs. Pierce said. “Two of them were rescued while Baron Slademore’s guards were busy at dice, so they never noticed.”

  “The charges must be dropped.” Clementine slipped under the cuffs. She pressed her back to his chest, clearly daring Jones to extricate her. “All those assumed to be victims were not.”

  “Which means there is no Abductor,” Olivia declared, clutching the hand of four-year-old Julie Anne, who seemed on the verge of weeping out loud. “I told you he was innocent! Unlock these cuffs at once.”

  Maybe he wouldn’t get out of here, but having his wife and his sister support him meant the world.

  “A formal charge is about to be filed. It’s not for me to dismiss it. This is a matter for Judge Harlow to determine and I imagine he’s at home having dinner with his family.”

  “He was,” came a disgruntled-sounding voice from someone pushing through the crowd.

  “It was kind of you to leave your meal in the name of justice.” Lady Guthrie acknowledged the judge with a nod.

  The short, round judge didn’t miss many meals, Heath decided. He also hadn’t come out of any sense of justice, but because James Macooish had escorted him here.

  It was Grandfather’s opinion that money could influence anyone to do what was honorable. But it was more than that. He had a manner about him that made people do what he wanted, and oftentimes with a smile.

  That was why the doctor had tended his wounds this morning and why the judge was standing here listening to half a dozen people claim they had not been kidnapped.

  Some were too young to speak the words, so Mrs. Pierce did it for them, recounting in detail the circumstances of each rescue.

  “I would have died if the earl hadn’t taken me. And Baby Millie, too, but Mrs. Pierce wouldn’t have it and so she lived.” It warmed Heath to hear the shy cook from Rock Rose Cottage speak up for him.

  “My ma died, sir. I was cast out from where we lived and then Baron Slademore—” Georgie sniffled loudly. “I don’t know what would have become of me if it weren’t for Lord Fencroft taking me away.”

  “Humph—hand me the keys, Mr. Jones.”

  “But, Your Honor! We’ve finally got him.”

  “Got who?” The judge unlocked the cuffs with his own pudgy hands. “There’s not a soul who was reported to have been kidnapped who claims they were. In every case the supposed victim is right here in this room and clearly of their own free will.”

  “But the public wants his blood.”

  “The public be hanged. I will not charge a man for kidnapping when no one was abducted.”

  “And you will inform the press of this development?” Lady Guthrie said.

  “Ah, well, they are gathering on the pavement as we speak. Macooish and I had to push past them.”

  “Take the children out the back door,” Heath said to Olivia and Lady Guthrie. “I would not have them put through an ordeal.”

  “We will take my carriage,” Lady Guthrie said.

  Olivia, still holding Julie Anne’s hand, scooped up a small boy. “We will meet you at home, Heath.”

  In a moment the room was empty of everyone but Clementine. Tears shimmered in her eyes and he was undone.

  He had been given a great gift. A miraculous reprieve.

  The only thing he wanted of life was to live it. But this business was not yet finished.

  As soon as they came outside Creed was waiting with the carriage.

  “I’ll take you home,” Heath said and kissed her quickly. “But Creed and I need to go out.”

  “I think not.” Her eyebrows lifted and she speared him with the look. “I only now got you back and I will not be left behind.”

  “Slademore House, aye?” said Creed.

  * * *

  The unmarked Fencroft carriage rolled along the streets of the West End.

  Clementine snuggled under Heath’s solid arm while they made slow progress toward Slademore House.

  She drew back the curtain to peer at the buildings they passed by. Cold, white moonlight shone down to illuminate things better left unseen.

  “I suppose there might be frost by morning,” she commented. “And there’s a woman in that doorway shivering under a blanket.”

  Heath caught her hand, drew it away from the window and held it close to his heart. “Best to keep the curtain down. That woman who looks like she’s in distress might be bait for a crime. I’ve seen it before.”

  She sighed and leaned back against the cushion. There had been no time to talk about what had happened—how he felt about her exposing him. If he was resentful over her betrayal it didn’t show.

  Of course, she’d had no idea it was him she was unmasking.

  Later, they would talk. Once this business of shutting down Slademore House was accomplished, they would need to make things right between them. They were solid, yes, but still a bit raw.

  “Do you have a plan for getting the children out?”

  Tonight’s undertaking, the rescue of so many little ones at once, was going to be beyond difficult. She couldn’t imagine how it was to be safely carried out.

  It would be one thing if Slademore had already been exposed. But he had not and in the eyes of the law, he was an innocent man. They were breaking into his orphanage.

  She prayed the next hour wouldn’t see them in the custody of the law again.

  He shook his head. “I will, once we get there. Something will present itself.”

  “I hope we have enough blankets.” There were a dozen stacked on the floor, which they had collected from Fencroft House before setting out.

  “There’s one thing, Clementine. I need you to remain in the coach.” He took her chin between his fingers, turned her face toward him and gave her a quick kiss. “Please promise you will.”

  “But the children know me. If they see you they might think the Abductor has come to carry them off. I can calm them and keep them quiet.”

  “You can calm them once they are in the carriage.”

  The coach slowed down and stopped. Clementine felt the rocking when Creed stepped down.

  “The guards are in their usual positions,” he said, coming inside and closing the door after him.

  “The news about my release won’t be widely known yet, so that’s good. Slademore won’t suspect anything more than our usual work.”

  “We’ll need to do something about the guards or we’ll never get inside.” Creed drew the curtain aside an inch. “I wish we could have made contact with our informer.”

  “Informer?” Clementine asked.

  “Yes, a woman, but we never saw her. She’d have someone deliver notes to Creed when she wanted to sneak a child to safety, tell us when to be here. We suspect she lives at Slademore House.”

  “We’ll need her, aye? To tell what she knows. There’s Georgie but he’s only a child and his word won’t hold up against the baron’s.”

  “No. And the nurse, Mrs. Hoper, she’ll side with the baron.”

  “But no one knows what she looks like? I must have seen her.”

 
“Small,” Creed said. “Waifish is all I was told.”

  “Lettie!” It had to be. “Did she give you an infant?”

  Heath nodded. “The babe was sick but Mrs. Pierce and the doctor brought her through.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear it. It was Lettie, then. One day she had a baby and the next she did not. And of the ones caring for the children, she seemed the kindest to them.”

  “Now that we know,” Creed said, “what are we to do about it?”

  “I’ll go in. I can convince her to help me sneak the children away.”

  “You will remain here.”

  “Have you a better plan, my lord?” Creed asked.

  Apparently not, since he stared mutely at the two of them.

  “You—” he gave her a stern look “—will stay beside me at all times.”

  She would do her best, of course. But events might unfold in a way to make it impossible.

  Luckily his attention turned to Creed’s role before she was forced to give her word on that.

  “You’ll get the children into the coach as we bring them out? Keep them as quiet as you can?”

  “First I’ll have a game or two of chance with the guards—offer them a drink.” Creed withdrew a silver flask from his coat. Waggled it back and forth. “Afterward, it should be safe for you to sneak inside.”

  “Will that work?” Clementine did not know a great deal about spirits, but she was fairly certain there was not enough in there to put a bird to sleep, let alone a pair of full-grown men.

  “Oh, it will, aye. It’s a recipe of me mum’s. The canny woman’s deflected the attentions of a few untoward men in her time.”

  The coachman got out of the carriage and walked around the corner, making it appear that he had come from the front of the building.

  Peeking out the window, she saw him show the men a deck of cards. When they were seated he offered them a few gulps from the flask.

  It only took a moment for the guards to slump sideways.

  “Let’s go.” Heath grabbed her hand.

  * * *

  “Ouch!” Clementine whispered as they crept along the back wall bordering the garden. “You are crushing my fingers.”