Lady Hartley's Inheritance

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Lady Hartley's Inheritance Page 19

by Wendy Soliman


  Clarissa didn’t know what to do. She loved Luc in a single-minded and passionate way that, a few short weeks ago, she would never have believed possible. But she’d never admitted as much. He’d simply assumed it was so. Such arrogance! And what’s more, he’d never actually told her that he was in love with her.

  Clarissa was becoming agitated now, working herself up into a high dudgeon and inventing difficulties that might never exist, when Bentley materialised.

  “There is a person here to see you, milady.”

  She raised her brows. “Me, Mr. Bentley.”

  “Actually she asked for his lordship.”

  “His lordship isn’t home?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “I am not a-party to that information. He left whilst I was at church this morning. I have just this moment returned to duty. Perhaps Simms could enlighten you.”

  “No, it doesn’t matter.” She didn’t want Luc to think she was keeping track of his activities. “Who is this person asking for me.”

  “She tells me that she works at the orphanage.”

  Clarissa felt the first stirrings of alarm. “Where is she?”

  “I asked her to wait in the small sitting room, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Bentley.”

  When Clarissa entered the room, she encountered a young woman she’d never seen before who stood up and bobbed a hasty curtsey. She wore a thick cloak, but beneath it she could see a plain grey gown with neat white collar, as worn by all the assistants at the orphanage. Her hair was pulled tightly beneath a white cap, on top of which was perched a cheap straw bonnet.

  “Oh, ma’am,” she said. “I’m right glad that you’re here.”

  “What is it, er…”

  “Mary, ma’am. I work at the orphanage.”

  “I don’t recall seeing you there.”

  “I’m new.”

  “I see.” That would explain why she’d never seen her before. “And what is the nature of the problem that brings you here?”

  “It’s Rose, miss.”

  Clarissa’s heart lurched. “Rosie? What’s wrong with her?”

  “She ain’t at all well, miss. She’s running a fever and keeps asking for you and his lordship. I was sent to fetch you.”

  “Well, his lordship isn’t here.”

  “Oh!” The girl twisted her hands together, looking rather agitated. Her glance kept darting towards the door. “Well, in that case I — ”

  “But I shall certainly come at once.”

  Clarissa was so concerned about poor Rosie that it didn’t occur to think there was anything strange about an apprentice maid presuming to bother an earl about the illness of an orphan. She ran up to fetch her pelisse and bonnet and flew back down the stairs again as though her life depended upon it. Simms happened to be crossing the vestibule when she reached it. “Where are you going, my lady?” he called after her, his normal laissez-faire attitude replaced by a distinct note of alarm. Clarissa barely heard him and didn’t stop to respond.

  Only as she entered a waiting carriage and the maid didn’t get in behind her did it occur to Clarissa that something was wrong. She looked round for Mary but she had disappeared. Before Clarissa could do anything about it, the carriage moved away, too fast for her to leap out. She was now terrified. Unless she was very much mistaken she had just aided and abetted her own kidnapping.

  What should she do? Call out for help? Try to attract the attention of passers-by? She attempted to open the window but it was sealed shut. Clarissa knew then that there was nothing she could do other than to wait and see where she was being taken.

  Her journey was short. Less than ten minutes after she entered the shabby carriage it rattled to a halt. She didn’t know London well enough to be aware of the direction she’d travelled in or where she now was.

  Clarissa was assisted from the carriage by a man she didn’t recognise. He ushered into a building but so preoccupied was she that it took her a moment to realise that she was at Mr. Twining’s office. The man with her opened Twining’s door and pushed her into the room, his rough treatment of her only adding to her growing sense of foreboding.

  “Ah, Lady Hartley,” Salik said, sweeping a bow, “here you are at last.”

  Clarissa ignored him. Glancing round the room she was astonished to see Rosie there, her tiny form almost swamped by the size of the chair in which she sat. So this was about the child after all. Her arms were wrapped round her torso, and she rocked steadily back and forth, eyes staring vacantly into space. Tears were streaming steadily down her face. Twining’s clerk, Granger, stood impassively beside her, indifferent to her terror. The sight of him as much as anything else moved Clarissa to a ferocious anger, making her heedless of her own danger.

  Upon registering Clarissa’s presence, Rosie jerked back to the present and cried out in relief. She evaded Granger’s attempts to stop her and flew across the room into Clarissa’s arms, sobbing passionately.

  “There, there, darling, all is well now. I’m here.”

  Clarissa held her close, stroking her back soothingly, attempting to infuse some of her own warmth into the child and stop her from trembling so violently. No matter what she tried, Rosie wouldn’t stop wailing. She was terrified, and Clarissa glared furiously at Salik and Twining.

  “If you’ve harmed her I won’t be held responsible for my actions,” she said.

  “Fear not, my lady,” Twining said, his manner as irritatingly ingratiating as always. “Not one hair on her head has been touched.”

  “You’d better be telling me the truth or you’ll live to regret it. I’m not without influential connections,” she reminded him, wondering if Luc had yet realised she was missing. “What exactly do you think you’re playing at, Mr. Twining? Seizing small children is enough to see you hanged.”

  Clarissa scowled at her attorney, who seemed unable to make any sort of answer. He visibly shrank beneath the violent force of her anger. He shuffled away and sat behind his desk, looking thoroughly miserable.

  “Never mind the child.” Salik extracted her forcibly from Clarissa’s arms, ignoring her renewed wails. “Keep her over there, Granger, and for God’s sake, keep her quiet.”

  “It’s all right, darling, sit over there again for a moment. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

  Slightly mollified, Rosie spoke for the first time. “Where’s Uncle Luc?”

  “He’ll be here soon, darling, and then we shall all be able to go home.”

  Clarissa tried to sound confident, but her anger was rapidly giving way to apprehension. Twining she could have dealt with, but she was already fairly certain that this situation was not of his making. One look at the ruthlessly determined expression on Salik’s face told her that he would be altogether a different proposition.

  “That I doubt,” he said. “Now, take a seat, Lady Hartley, and we can discuss our reasons for bringing you here.”

  It wasn’t a question, and if for no reason other than Rosie’s sake, Clarissa felt compelled to do as he asked. She perched herself on the edge of a stiff, upright chair, and, stifling her panic as best she could, turned the full force of her ire upon Salik.

  “Now, sir, perhaps you will have the goodness to explain this outrage?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Luc and Felix directed the search for Rosie from the office at the orphanage. Mrs. Fielding organised activities for the rest of the children to distract their attention away from Rosie’s plight. One of the disadvantages of encouraging such a closeness amongst them, Luc now had reason to know, was that when one of them was in trouble it affected them all. He’d arrived to find them uncharacteristically subdued, huddled together in small groups and speaking in whispers. Luc hoped that some imaginative recreation would restore them to their normal, and suddenly very desirable, boisterous state.

  Luc sent his men out in teams to search an ever-widening area, questioning anyone who might have seen anything at all. So
far their efforts had proved fruitless. It was as though Rosie had disappeared from the face of the earth, and Luc was now convinced that she’d been abducted. It appeared that a closed and unmarked carriage had hurtled along the street whilst the children were crossing, moving so fast that they had been forced to scatter in all directions to avoid being run over. All of them could clearly recall Rosie being amongst their number prior to that, but no one had seen her since.

  “It’s no good, Felix.” Luc’s shoulders slumped as yet another of his men reported back negatively. “I’m convinced that she’s been taken, and that it has something to do with that carriage.”

  “Yes, but who’d go to so much trouble? Surely not one of that bastard of a landlord’s former customers?”

  “Unlikely. If one of those scapegraces wanted another child why go to the trouble of trying to abduct one as well-protected as Rosie? You know as well as I how easily they could find another elsewhere.”

  “True enough.” Felix sighed. “Do you imagine that Rosie was simply taken by chance, then, and that there was nothing deliberate about it?”

  “Possibly. It would be extremely difficult to target one particular child amongst so many with any likelihood of success.”

  “Unless you drive a carriage fast through the middle of them and specifically watch the child you’re interested in.”

  “Yes…and if that child was known to always to carry a rag doll, that would make her easier to identify.”

  “So, if our speculation is right, it would mean it was Rosie that they specifically wanted.” Felix appeared perplexed. “But why?”

  Luc paced the length of the office, frowning as he tried to untangle his thoughts. Something was nagging at the edge of his consciousness. Something important that would make sense of this sorry situation, if only he could recall what it was. “That, my friend,” he said grimly “is a very good question.”

  They fell silent but Luc was finding it increasingly difficult to hide his frustration, his mounting concern and his anger. Rosie had been under his indirect protection. That made this outrage personal. He was aware also that for every hour she remained missing, she could be taken further and further away from the capital and could be facing heaven alone knew what horrors. He smashed his fist against the desk, but it did little to relieve his feelings of enervation. Why Rosie, for God’s sake, and why now? The fact that she was a particular favourite of his made her disappearance all the more difficult to rationalise, and he cursed the fact that his emotional attachment to her was clouding his judgement, preventing him from thinking incisively.

  He shuddered as well when he contemplated Clarissa’s reaction when she learned of Rosie’s disappearance. But the prospect of distressing her at least had the effect of snapping Luc out of his inertia. His befuddled brain cleared, and he found himself able to think lucidly again. With the return of his rationality, the ghost of a suspicion occurred to him — a suspicion which should have been obvious to him long before now. He sat a little straighter and attempted to put it into words.

  “Whoever took Rosie,” he said slowly, “did so, I believe, because they knew of my particular affection for her.”

  “So you think whoever took her did so to revenge themselves against you for some reason.” Felix rubbed his chin. “But who would even contemplate doing such a vile thing? Who would use a little girl merely to get back at you?”

  Luc grimaced. “You have a penchant for good questions today, Felix.”

  “Whom have you upset of late?”

  “Care to take your pick?” Luc asked, quirking a brow.

  A commotion outside the office preceded the appearance of Simms, dishevelled and out of breath.

  “Good God, Simms, whatever’s the matter?”

  “Forgive me, my lord. I almost lamed your horse getting here as quickly as I could.” He clasped a hand to his chest and bent double, struggling to regain his breath and his composure.

  “Calm down, Simms, and tell me what’s occurred to distress you so.” Luc was really concerned now. For Simms to move in anything other than the most dignified of manners was rare; for him to appear with his apparel askance was quite simply unheard of.

  “It’s Lady Hartley, my lord.”

  Luc jumped to his feet, as agitated now as Simms. “Is she harmed? What’s happened to her?” He caught hold of Simms’ shoulder and almost shook it out of its socket.

  “Luc!”

  Felix’s voice brought Luc back to his senses, and he released his hold on his valet. “Tell me what’s happened,” he said in a more moderate tone, clasping his hands behind his back to conceal the fact that they were shaking.

  “Bentley informs me that a maid from this establishment called to see her ladyship just after her return from church, my lord. He had been to church himself and did not know that you were here, or why. Lady Hartley saw the maid. Shortly thereafter she flew back down the stairs, rushed out into the street and climbed straight into a closed carriage which was waiting there. It drove off as soon as she was inside.”

  “Dear God, what does she think she’s about this time?”

  “I did try to prevent her, my lord, but she was deaf to my pleading.”

  “If she was as intent upon her purpose as you suggest, then she would have been. Have you any idea what made her go off like that?”

  “No, my lord, I regret not. Agnes had been to church also and had been given the rest of the morning off, so she would be unable to help us.”

  “Damnation!” Luc thumped his thigh with his clenched fist. “What would make her go tearing off like that?” he asked, turning towards Felix.

  “Rosie!” they said in unison.

  “Well, that answers your earlier question, Felix. Twining and Salik must have Rosie, and they’re using her as bait to tempt Clarissa there.”

  “But how can they have known that she was at home without you?”

  “They must have watched me dash off here when Rosie was reported missing.” He dragged a hand across his face. “It seems that I’ve played right into their hands.”

  “Maybe, but how would they know of Clarissa’s attachment to Rosie? Your connection to this place isn’t common knowledge.”

  “They’ve obviously been watching us, and I was too preoccupied to notice.” He thumped his fist into the palm of his other hand this time and swore profusely. “We were so busy watching them that it didn’t occur to me they could be returning the favour.”

  “But even if that’s so, Luc, for what purpose would they want to lure Clarissa away from home?”

  Luc ground his teeth as he gathered up his hat and gloves. “I can only assume, Felix,” he said, “that they have somehow gained intelligence of our discoveries in Portsmouth, and in their desperation, think to persuade Clarissa out of her lands by threatening harm to Rosie.” He wouldn’t allow himself to consider any other explanation. “Come, my friend, there’s no time to lose.”

  “But where will they have taken them?”

  “To Twining’s office in Lincoln’s Inn, I would imagine.”

  “Are you sure? Why not to his lodgings?”

  “Because Lincoln’s Inn will be deserted on a Sunday, whereas the residents of his lodging house are all likely to be at home. Remember that nosy landlady my man discovered? Any distressed sounds from children or women would draw unwanted attention. Come, we’re bound for Lincoln’s Inn, there’s not a moment to spare. Are you with me?”

  “Naturally.” Felix picked up his own hat.

  “Simms, inform Mrs. Fielding that Rosie is found and will shortly be restored to her. Call off the men’s search and send them home. You are to return to Grosvenor Square immediately and reassure the household, but don’t reveal any more than is absolutely necessary. I don’t wish for Lady Deverill to be unduly distressed.”

  “Very good, my lord. But would it not be better if some of the men and I were to accompany you?”

  “Oh, no, Simms,” Luc said with a tight smile. “Lord Western and
I can handle Salik and Twining. In fact, I’ve been waiting some days now for just such an opportunity.”

  Clarissa looked about her with what she hoped was an imperious and detached air. But as the reality of her situation struck her, she felt anything but detached. She was here in Lincoln’s Inn on a Sunday morning when no one else would be about. Twining and Salik had selected the timing for this abduction with obvious care. Worse yet, she’d left no word of where she was going or why when she’d departed Grosvenor Square so precipitately.

  She could appreciate now the full extent of her folly in entering a strange carriage alone. Luc’s reaction, when he heard of it, didn’t bear thinking about. But, in her own defence, she had been too concerned for Rosie’s welfare to think rationally. No thought for her own safety had so much as crossed her mind when a respectable young woman had specifically told her that Rosie was asking for her. She now had ample opportunity to appreciate the full extent of her foolhardiness.

  Granger was across the room from her, his face expressionless as he stood guard over a sobbing Rosie. Clarissa observed his blank, hostile eyes, the cruel twist to his lips, and didn’t have the slightest doubt that he’d do whatever Twining or Salik asked of him without emotion or pity. The very thought made her want to shudder, but she resisted displaying any outward signs of fear. Showing weaknesses before her captors would, she instinctively knew, be a grave miscalculation.

  Instead she must somehow find a way to gain the upper hand, and to do that she must remain defiant, making full use of the advantages at her disposal. But what were those advantages? She obviously couldn’t overpower her captors. She had no weapon about her and was in no position to call for help. So where did that leave her?

  Focusing her mind on her dilemma, Clarissa concluded that her only weapons were her femininity, her elevated position within society, and her wits, such as they were. Not much when faced with three ruthless men, but if she and Rosie were to stand any chance of surviving this farrago then she must make full use of them.

 

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