“Love. A concept for fools and fairytales.”
“So cynical at such a young age.”
“Stop it and listen. There’s danger afoot in England.”
“Do tell.” Charles’s tone mocked his friend.
“Not the stuff we’ve seen, but more sinister than that. There is a plot to overtake the throne.”
Charles sat back. “A tale as old as time.”
“Yes, but very real in our present day.”
“I thought you’d already stopped one plot. That’s why King George knighted you.”
“Yes, but there’s some other force at work now.”
“Force?” Charles’s eyebrows rose.
“You believe in the spiritual world. Let’s say it’s evil personified.”
“Do we know who we’re looking for?”
“Not yet,” Michael said as he shook his head. “But young women are disappearing.”
Charles leaned forward. “For what? Virgin sacrifices to appease some kind of mythical god or demon? Are you serious?”
“Very.” Michael took a sip of wine. “But this isn’t an issue in only the lower orders, this is amongst the aristocracy.”
“Are the women ever retrieved?”
“Only one was found. She’d been raped and was branded with a rhombus on her shoulder.”
Charles frowned. “You mean like a diamond on a playing card? There has always been evil in the world. What makes this a more urgent threat, and how is it tied to the crown?”
“I’m not sure. But keep your eyes and ears open. Few women from the London area have disappeared in such a manner from what we can tell. The missing women are younger but beloved daughters of the haute ton. Usually from their country homes.”
“Why have the papers not covered this?”
“Because the families are ashamed. Fearful of censure and scandal.”
“So, the reason for so many tales of women traveling to visit relatives and the like?”
“As a way to cover up the disappearances? Yes.”
“How dreadful for those families.”
Silence hung between the men for several moments. Charles thought of the beautiful Henrietta. What if she were taken? The thought devastated him to think of her bright light being snuffed out in such a brutal manner.
“What are we to do to stop it?”
“Watch. Stay observant. Certain men have been arrested, but all from the peerage, therefore, no trial and it’s kept quiet. They won’t be hung for it like a common man would. There’s talk of secret rituals that have occurred. The suspicion is that there is more to this covert group.”
“They are organized?”
“We’re not sure how or who the ringleader is yet.”
Charles sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Our work is never done, is it?”
Michael smiled. “We shall never be obsolete.”
“As if you could ever be that.”
The young knight shrugged. “I’ve nothing better to do. No woman will marry a man born on the wrong side of the blanket, no matter how noble my mysterious father is. There is no one to care about me now that my mother has passed on. What else is there for me to do? I’ve money enough but no property or inherited title to recommend me. The ton tolerates me because I’m amusing, but I understand that none of them would ever countenance allowing their precious daughters to wed such as I.”
Charles grinned at his friend. “Don’t be so melancholy. Someday I pray the right woman will wrap you around her little finger, and I hope I live to watch it happen.”
“That would mean I would need to be alive as well. Not as high a chance of that in my occupation.”
“For all the world could presume, you are a gentleman of leisure. Highly dangerous occupation indeed.”
“But you know better.”
“True. I wish I could be more in the game as you are. Title and the associated responsibilities make that untenable.”
“One of your responsibilities is to beget an heir.”
“My cousin Bernard will gladly assume my role, and he already has two young boys to raise. The line is secure enough without me needing to step into the noose.”
“That God of yours might have different plans.” Michael slid a piece of paper across the table.
Charles palmed it.
“I’m off,” Michael said. “You’ll be attending Almack’s?”
“Most likely.”
“Perhaps I’ll see you there.” Michael put his hat on and sauntered out of the room.
Charles sipped his drink and glanced down at his hand. Directions for tomorrow. A visit to a park. Maybe he’d manage to mix business with pleasure. The thought brought a smile to his face. He stood and, with a jaunty step, left White’s to engage his carriage for the ride home.
3
Edwards came in with a silver tray. “This arrived for you, Miss Henrietta. The messenger is awaiting a response. I sent him to the kitchen to wait.”
Henri grabbed the missive and slit it open She read the tidy, angular script.
Would you do me the honor of joining me for a walk in the park on the morrow at nine in the morning?
Yours, Charles Percy
Hmm, an intriguing development. She sat at her desk and wrote a note indicating her acceptance. With a grin, she placed it back on the salver. “You may take that to the messenger, Edwards. Thank you.”
The butler gave a bow of his head and left the room.
Peaches, the parrot, squawked from her cage. “Pish, posh! Pish, posh!”
Henri went over to her pet to work out some of the pin feathers. The bird bent her head forward to allow greater access.
“What was that all about, Henri?” Aunt Dorothy asked.
“An invitation for a walk in the park tomorrow morning with Mister Charles Percy.”
“You’ll take a maid. I’m not rising that early.”
Henrietta kissed the parrot on the head and set it back on the cage before walking over to her aunt and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Of course not, dearest Aunt. I could never inconvenience you so. I’ll take my pistol with me.”
Lady Grey’s eyebrows rose. “You walk a fine line, Henri. You should be chaperoned. Be nice to that young man.”
Batting her eyelashes as she sat, Henri grinned. “Whatever could you mean? I’m always nice to gentlemen.”
“You’ve always stayed within the bounds of propriety, but there is something about the way you react to his particular man that makes me wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“Whether he is the one worthy of unlocking the door to your heart.”
“Balderdash and fiddlesticks.”
“Pish, posh! Balderdash and fiddlesticks!” Peaches echoed.
“Is it?” Lady Grey turned her attention to her book.
Henrietta bit her lip as she pondered her aunt’s comment. She didn’t want anyone other than God to have a key to her heart. She’d seen the pain and anguish so many times and had determined she would not fall prey to such foolish notions. Would she ever marry and have children? Likely not. But she had her groups in which she participated and ministry to the poor and wounded veterans, and at times she overheard important information she passed along to those who could use it. It made the frivolity of the season far more worthwhile, but would any man tolerate such an independent soul? Never.
She was all for marriage—for others. Like her brother, Marcus. He needed a wife to complement his work, support him, and be a refuge in the stormy political seas. Only he appeared as adverse as she at this point. Of course time always favored men. Women were on the shelf by age twenty, so she was already a long-in-the-tooth according to some of the gossips.
No matter. She only needed to please God, herself, and her family, and neither Marcus nor Jared were inclined to push her where she did not wish to go. They had known her long enough to realize it would be futile, anyway. She loved her brothers and was grateful for their understanding even though she kn
ew her independence concerned them.
Jared had others things to worry about, being at war as an aide to Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley. She often wrote him bright, cheerful letters to remind him he was loved and that they looked forward to his safe return. So many families didn’t get that outcome. She prayed that God would grant them favor and that Jared would come back whole and hardy when the time came for his service to end.
She sighed and flipped open the pages to Shakespeare’s sonnets, but she soon couldn’t think straight for anticipation of her walk with Charles. Mister Percy. She was certain he’d lied to her, but to what purpose? That part intrigued her, but if she caught him out in the falsehood, any acquaintance between them would abruptly halt.
The thought unaccountably saddened her. She wanted to be proved right that he was something other than who he said he was, but to do so would be to lose the company of a man whose conversation pleased her—a rare feat for any man these days. His dashing appearance didn’t hurt, either.
She prayed for a dry morning. She rose to go to her room to select her gown for the evening ball and to plan her dress for the morrow. She was sure she could talk Aunt Dorothy into retiring early. It simply wouldn’t be right for her to look haggard for Mr. Percy, now, would it?
~*~
That evening at the Winchesters’ ball, Henrietta hid the fact that she was bored to tears and her feet ached.
Aunt Dorothy chatted with friends along the side of the room and Henri had finally grabbed some punch after refusing the offer from one of her attentive beaux.
“Hiding, are we?” a familiar voice whispered from behind her.
She pivoted. “Sir Michael! How good it is to see you. Back in England, are you?”
“Shhhh. You musn’t mention any of that.”
Chagrined she pushed out her bottom lip. “I thsorry.”
“You’re not two anymore, Henri. Are you engaged for this next dance?”
“I am not; however, everyone always stares at us when we dance together.”
“I’m not so much shorter than you that it makes a difference, my girl. Come. Tell me how Marcus fares.”
She accepted his hand, and he led her to the floor as the first chords of a dance began. Too bad someone like Michael didn’t strike her fancy. He was no more interested in marriage than she was. “My dear brother is currently at Rose Hill helping rebuild a tenant’s burnt cottage as the wife is due to give birth any day.”
“The ‘Virtuous Viscount’ strikes again, eh? How can anyone compare to him? Have you found him a suitable bride yet?”
“I’ve not made the attempt. Not that any of the women currently on the marriage-mart are worthy of my brother, mind you.”
“’Tis true. I’ve met no one his equal. So why does he keep me around?”
Michael expertly led her through the steps of the dance. Why had this man not been snatched up? In spite of his unfortunate birth, he was more the gentleman than many who frequented the ballrooms of London.
“You keep him from being too serious.”
“It’s a chore, but I’d do anything for him.” He winked.
“He is blessed in his friends.”
“Blessed? Not so sure about that. Lucky, perhaps.”
“Someday you’ll find the Lord worthy of your trust and your heart.” Henri whispered and then remained quiet for the rest of the dance. Lord, show Michael who You are so he could trust in You too.
When the music ended, he escorted her off the dance floor and into the area where a late supper was served. He found her a seat and brought a plate to her.
“Thank you. I was famished.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Allendale.”
When she was about to protest his more formal usage of her name he cast his gaze around the room.
“Oh.” She focused on her food.
“Any adventures lately?” he asked.
“Only being held at gunpoint by some ruffian on our way back to London. I was going to shoot him dead but someone came to our rescue and foiled his dastardly deeds before I could do so myself.” She huffed.
Michael chuckled. “I’m glad you were spared taking a life. It’s a hard thing to live with afterwards.”
“You’ve had to do so.”
“War is ugly. There’s not much more to say than that.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry to bring up bad memories. But I need to ask. Are you acquainted with a Mr. Charles Percy?”
He squinted as he frowned. “Perhaps, but I meet many people. He doesn’t stand out though. Why?”
“He was our rescuer the other day, and I’m to walk in the park with him tomorrow morning.” She watched Michael closely to gauge his reaction.
“I hope he is worthy of you, Miss Allendale. Will you be bringing your pistol in your reticule?” He smirked.
“Do you think I should?” She winked at him before sipping her punch.
“I do not. You should be safe enough in the park. I wish you someone worthy to love.”
“I’m not interested in love or marriage, as you are well aware.”
He grinned. “Prove me wrong, but somewhere inside that heart is a desire to be a wife and mother. And you’d be a great one.”
“It’s not worth the risk.”
“Risk of what?”
“The heartache when they are gone.”
“Seriously? You would deny yourself the pleasures—”
“And the pains—”
“Of marriage? Of being loved and cared for?”
“Marriage for love is an outlandish notion amongst the ton. All men desire when they see me is my dowry.”
Michael shook his head. “I think you much mistake the matter. They want far more than that. You’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Pish, posh. Balderdash and fiddlesticks. Your flattery won’t convince me of the truth of the matter. So maybe they want me for my ‘many charms,’ but that doesn’t mean they would love me.”
“What your parents had was rare, to be sure. I suspect that’s why Marcus has yet to step his foot in the parson’s mousetrap. You both hold out for love.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, but don’t rule out marriage simply because you haven’t found love yet. That God of yours will likely provide your heart’s desire in due time.”
“You’ll preach to me about a God you don’t believe in?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe He existed. I just don’t believe He’s personally interested in me.”
“Oh, Michael…”
Another beau approached.
Michael rose, took her free hand, and placed a kiss an inch above the gloved fingers. With a squeeze and a wink he let it go. “It was a pleasure, Miss Allendale.” He strode away.
Lord Edgerton came to take his place. As the man nattered on, regaling her with his latest hunting success, she watched Michael as he mingled before departing the room. You just wait, sweet knight, someday someone is going to hold your heart, and you won’t be pleased about it, either. Casting thoughts of him aside, she turned her attention to her suitor. As soon as she could, she excused herself to the withdrawing room and found her aunt. “May we leave? I’m fatigued.”
“But of course, my dear.” Lady Grey summoned their carriage.
When it arrived, the footman assisted them both inside the conveyance. “Did you enjoy your evening?” Lady Grey asked as the carriage began the short journey home.
“It was as any other ball. My one bright spot was Sir Tidley.”
“Sir Michael was here, and he failed to come and entertain me? I’ll share with him my displeasure when next we meet. How is he?”
“He appears well. Cheeky, serious, and an enigma.”
“Has he caught your eye?”
“Michael? Heavens, no! He’s like a brother to me.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing more?”
“Quite certain, and he feels the same about me. We are merely friends. If anyone were to
marry Michael, I would have anticipated Katrina to be the one to do so. They spent much time together as children when he came down from university.”
“Didn’t hurt that his grandfather lived close by,” Lady Grey mused.
“Yes, but there was little affection between them.”
“A sad story. I’m glad you won’t be so easily swayed by good looks and charmed words, as his mother was.” Her aunt scrutinized her carefully.
“Let’s hope not.” The grey eyes of Mr. Percy, along with his grin, popped into her mind.
The carriage arrived. Upon entering the house both women ascended the stairs to their rooms. “Good night, Aunt Doro.”
“Good night, Henri.”
4
Charles walked several blocks to Miss Allendale’s home swinging his cane as he went. The sun shone and the normally foul odor of the Thames was forced elsewhere by the breeze. Few people were about with the exception of street venders plying their trade. He whistled as he walked but was keenly aware of everyone and everything around him. Reaching the address, he went up the stairs.
The butler answered the door.
“I’m Mr. Percy. I have an engagement with Miss Allendale to take a walk this morning.”
The butler stood aside. “I’ve been informed. Follow me.” He led Charles to a well-appointed sitting room bursting with style and comfort. Fresh flowers adorned a table, adding a light, pleasing fragrance to the room. He sighed. Marcus’s home benefited from a woman’s touch with his sister in residence. It was one thing Charles had missed since his mother’s death five years past. The door opened, causing him to pivot to face the person entering.
The creature before him was radiant. He couldn’t breathe. Why had no man snatched her up? She had a handsome dowry, was pleasant in manners and appearance, and certainly did not lack wit. Unless that was the deterrent. Some men did not want an intelligent wife willing to speak her mind. Charles found it invigorating.
“Miss Allendale, you shine brighter than the sun this morning.” He bowed over her outstretched, gloved hand. Releasing it, he stood to face her, inhaling the scent of apples. Springtime. Her walking dress of pale green with yellow trim was topped off by a chip bonnet decorated in ribbon and flowers to match.
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