He heard a sound and half scurried, half hopped back to his seat as quickly as he could. Jimmy, the stable boy had entered the servants’ hall. If Wallace heard him, he would take the boy hostage, or worse. Terence did not feel the need to try the man’s patience.
Jimmy was getting some bread and cheese for his supper. What a racket he was making. Terence decided to risk it and called for the boy in a hoarse whisper. “Jimmy. Come into the butlery.”
The boy appeared in the doorway. “Mr Sheridan! Sir! Are you quite alright?”
Terence shushed the boy and called him further into the room. “You must untie me boy. There is an interloper in the family sitting room. He holds His Grace and Her Grace prisoner, along with the Radcliffes and Her Grace’s cousin. Mary McGowan is there too. I believe he means to kill them.”
“What should I do, Mr Sheridan?”
“Run as fast as you can to find Colonel Drake at the army barracks. Tell him he must come. And go to fetch the doctor. When you come back, if I am not in the mews, do not enter the house alone. Can I count on you for this?
“Of Course, Mr Sheridan.”
“I believe Mrs Crabtree to be in back in the garden. Leave her. If she comes here, I can stop her.”
“Yes, Mr Sheridan.” The boy finished untying the burnt and blistered wrists of the butler and made his way for the back door.
“Mind you keep to the alley. If you use the passage to the area, you might be seen,” Terence whispered before the boy went out. Then he headed down the corridor to the sitting room.
*******
The bell at the front door of Regent Street chimed. The six prisoners looked at each other marvelling that they were still alive. It seemed Bruce Wallace had fallen asleep, lulled by the wine he’d drunk. Sleeping in the prison must have been very uncomfortable.
The group looked at Wallace. If one of them could get the keys from his waistcoat, they could get out of this room.
They conducted a whispered meeting, while Mary freed Phoebe. When they were ready, they put the ropes on the evil Mr Bruce Wallace. Atwater and Tom tied Wallace’s torso and hands while Carlisle tied the feet.
The front door chime sounded again. Terence answered. It was the Colonel and the Lieutenant. The Dukes Atwater and Carlisle, Phoebe, Mary, and Olivia all came out of the sitting room and up to the front hall.
The doctor had arrived by this time and took Mary and Olivia upstairs into one of the guest bedrooms to examine Olivia’s wound.
Atwater and Carlisle spoke with Colonel Drake, and they went downstairs to collect the perpetrator.
“He’s right this way, Colonel. Atwater opened the sitting room door.”
“Now isn’t that peculiar?” He stepped into the room. What had happened?
Bruce Wallace was gone.
Chapter 24
The men immediately made their way to the ladies, now upstairs in the parlour.
“Duke Carlisle, may I impose on you to watch over the ladies while we search for Wallace.”
“Whatever I can do, Your Grace.”
“Terence, I leave any decisions that need making up to you.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I’d like you all to barricade yourselves in the servants’ hall. You’ll be together, and there is a means of egress nearby.”
“The Colonel, the Lieutenant, Tom, and Atwater made a thorough search of the house, the mews, and the gardens. Outside, in the gardens, Atwater strode over to the housekeeper and kitchen maid.
“Mrs Crabtree, Sally. Go into the house straight away. Terence will explain everything.”
The women nodded and went inside. Atwater sent Jimmy inside as well, and then turned to the others. “Gentlemen? Where to now?”
“My first guess is he’ll go back to the prison to pick up Charlotte,” Tom supplied.
“He’s got another thought coming then,” Captain Drake responded.
“Why would that be?” Tom asked.
“Charlotte Evans wants to go to America.”
“You don’t say.”
“That’s what Miss Evans told me. In fact, the little wench manipulated me into putting it on paper. She won’t be convicted. She’ll most likely get a year or two of labour. By going to America, if she survives the journey, she’ll never come back here to England.”
“How can you say that with such certainty?”
“Because. I reckon Charlotte Evans wants to start clean,” the Colonel offered.
“Hmmm. A brand new life in a strange land, where not a soul knows her. It’s a good plan.”
*******
“Psst. Charlotte. My lady.”
Charlotte was dreaming again. The glow of the full moon, through the one
tiny window in the cell had woken her.
“My lady.”
Charlotte opened her eyes. Bruce Wallace was at the window high up in the wall.
“I have a file. I’m dropping it down to you.”
She stood and made her way to the window. “No.”
“No? Why you can file two of these bars and get out by morning. I’ll start it for you. That’s the hardest part.” He began sloughing the tool to and fro stirring up a dust of iron filings.
“Bruce. Stop. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m staying put.”
“This is a poor time for a joke, Charlotte. There’s only about five hours until daylight.”
“You misunderstand me, Bruce. I’m staying put.” Charlotte generally resorted to sarcasm when annoyed.
“But, I can get you out. Come on, woman. I’ve risked my neck coming here. I could be halfway to France by now.”
“That’s none of my concern,” Charlotte hissed.
“I’m going to France, Charlotte. Are you coming with me or not?”
“No. That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you. I’m staying here; I’m putting in exemplary behaviour. I will be released, and the record of my being here will be destroyed. Now go. Leave me.”
“But, but, Charlotte. I love you.”
“As I said, that is none of my concern,” Charlotte said with finality. Bruce had been fine for awhile. She’d used him as she’d used every man before him. To her, relationships with various men were conducted merely to manipulate a man into doing the dirty work that she, as a woman, could not do.
She had an arrangement with the Colonel, in writing. The Lieutenant had told her that the Colonel would, most likely, allow her to leave on the next ship of criminals being sent to America.
Not to worry, he said. She need not be seen as a criminal. He knew a place where he could procure identification papers for her. She could change her identity. Of course, the attainment of the papers came with a cost. And Charlotte had dutifully lain beneath the man.
“That is your final decision?”
“Yes. Bruce, it is.” She looked deeply into his eyes. She did share a morsel of feeling with him. But it was nothing she couldn’t live without.
She was about to tell him she was sorry when he spit between the bars.
The little puddle at her feet had missed her, so he tried again. She retreated to the far end of the cell knowing full well that when the Colonel got back, if Bruce was still outside, he would be arrested again. Wherever he’d been, escaping would add to the severity of his already severe sentence.
Bruce would never get out of prison alive unless he escaped again. He would be in solitary confinement, guarded twenty-four hours a day. He would never be sent to America.
He’d been a petty thief and thug. Now, Wallace had held a Duke hostage in his own home. Charlotte didn’t need all the facts to ascertain where he had been all afternoon and evening.
She heard the clatter of horses’ hooves pounding down the cobbled street. Wallace still tried to entice her.
“Go, Bruce. Run. You’ll never get out again if you don’t.” She said it more to assuage her guilt than any other reason. The man had risked his life for her. Well,
she’d never asked for that level of devotion. Whatever happened to Wallace now was of his own doing.
He disappeared; his moonlit silhouette there one moment then vanished.
*******
Olivia had been ensconced in one of the guest chambers, Duke Carlisle staying by her bedside in case she needed anything during the night.”
“May I get you anything, Cousin?” Phoebe poked her head into the room.
The Duke stood and quietly walked to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder to satisfy himself that she was asleep.
“I have made my apologies, Your Grace. To yourself, your husband, and I’ve spoken privately with the others and given Lady Mary a note of apology to give to her maid, Susan.”
“Yes. It’s wonderful to see you in this light, I must admit.”
“May we go to the sitting room, Your Grace?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
They entered Phoebe’s sitting room, off her bedchamber, by the hallway door. Carlisle stoked the fire, and Phoebe rang for Sally to bring some refreshment. It was almost midnight, but Phoebe was wide awake after the happenings earlier.
They sat at the little table. “What is it, Cousin?” Phoebe asked.
“I’d planned on staying a week in London, but I’ve decided I will be going back to Edinburgh in a couple days.”
“As you wish, Your Grace. You know you have a place here.”
“And for that, I thank you. I also have a question of the utmost importance. I’m about to venture into territory that has, in the past, left me with my soul shattered.”
“Go on.”
“You see, my odious behaviour of a year ago had to do with my shock and sorrow over the death of my late wife. I’d never felt a pain so keen, and I suppose I thought if I drove those around me away, then I should never feel anything like it ever again. It’s a poor excuse. I only want to say that I am so grateful to you and the Duke for your forgiveness.”
“It is actually my husband to whom you should be telling this, Your Grace. He is a good man. He chose to give you another chance in our lives. I’m glad it worked out to the benefit of all concerned.”
The Duke smiled, a slow blush of colour extending from his neck to his face. “Your Grace, ah, I would like to ask you a question of the utmost importance.”
“Yes?”
“I would like to ask Miss McGowan to become my wife.”
“Why, Cousin! That is lovely news, indeed.” Phoebe hugged the Duke.
“Yes. I don’t know who I’m to ask for her hand.”
“She is a free woman, Your Grace. But, I’m sure Duke Atwater would be happy to give you his blessing if that’s what you’d like. He’s in the library alone now. The Radcliffes went home.”
“Oh thank you, Your Grace. Thank you.”
“La! Go and speak to him, Your Grace. I’ll sit with Olivia until you come back.”
*******
Two days later, Lord Thomas Radcliffe and Lady Radcliffe arrived at Regent Street.
The drawing room was festooned with flowers, and a lavish dinner was being set up in the dining room. The house was awash in delicious aromas emanating from the kitchen. It was ten o’clock. The nuptials were scheduled for ten thirty.
“However were they allowed to bring this all together so quickly?” Tom mused.
“The Duke procured a Bishop’s licence for twelve shillings, love. And Mrs Crabtree, Terence, Abigail, Sally, and my own Susan have worked tirelessly for two days.” Mary smiled. “Mrs Crabtree said it reminded her of the old days when the old Duke and Duchess entertained often. She loves the challenge of having it all ready in a few days. La! Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go upstairs to see how the bride is weathering all the excitement.”
Mary went upstairs to the third floor. She knocked at the partially open door. Phoebe and her maid, Abigail, were putting the finishing touches on the bride. They’d curled her hair and dressed her in Phoebe’s wedding frock that Abigail had fixed to look like an entirely different dress. Olivia looked beautiful.
“And to think. You will be a Duchess now, Olivia. How does it feel?” Mary entered the room and kissed the girl on the cheek.
“Ah, Your Grace. Abigail. Might I have a moment alone with Lady Mary?”
“Yes, of course, dear. We’ll be just outside. But do hurry, the ceremony is in twenty minutes.”
“What is it, Olivia?” Mary asked after the others were gone from the room.
“It is an apology, Lady Mary. I told you once, that you couldn’t be raised up. I said awful things because I was jealous that a man, although a commoner, would raise you up to the gentry.”
“That is all behind us, Olivia. We all know and understand what Charlotte put you through. The empty promises, the threats. We know the truth. And after this moment, we will never speak of it again. I shall be calling you by your new title of Your Grace.”
Olivia fell into a chair. “That’s just it, Lady Mary. I will be in Scotland. I have worked there in the past. It is only a matter of time before I am called out for having been a maid.”
“Olivia, people will talk. The certainty of this is as certain as the sun rising in the morning and setting at night. You must hold your head high. You must ignore the gossip. It is fun to be a lady, Olivia. And not so very hard. It’s like looking in the looking glass from the other side. The image is clear yet altered from what it appeared to be. Also, Scotland is a little more forgiving. You’ll be in Edinburgh and in the highlands. It will be grand. There is nothing to worry about. You look like a lady. That’s half the battle. Now, come. Let us go with Abigail and Phoebe to wait at the top of the step for the music to begin. My Susan is to play the pianoforte for your descent on the stairs.”
*******
A few hours later, everyone was enjoying the music. For the dancing, musicians had been employed. Carlisle and Olivia appeared as if in their own cocoon of love.
Atwater turned to his own wife. “May I have this dance, my love?”
“You may, Your Grace.” She bowed her head then took her husband’s proffered hand to be led to the dance floor.
They danced past Tom and Mary; they danced around the newly married couple, and then they took seats along the perimeter of the dancing. Phoebe was a little winded, and Atwater went to get her some lemonade.
Phoebe knew that almost every guest at the house was sizing up Olivia to see if she had what it took to be a Duchess.
Phoebe thought wryly that if a woman could find wrong in any situation and blurt out her opinions about said wrong to anyone who might listen, then that woman had what it took.
The gossip bored Phoebe. She looked forward to going back to Hempstead Hall for the summer the following day. The Duke would be taking his new Duchess to Scotland, and Phoebe looked forward to the relaxation, fresh air, and open space of the country.
Falling for the Heartbroken Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 28