by Irene Estep
"Good Lord, surely you did not shoot him?" Edwin said.
"Of course not," Claresta bristled.
"Bandage me up, Druscilla. It is only a flesh wound," Drake said.
To Claresta’s amazement, Druscilla rushed everyone but her out of the room. The lady then called to the servants for hot water and bandages and did as Drake asked.
Just then Shipley and the solicitor burst through the garden door with Lord Westhaven in tow. "Found this one lurking about outside, what?" Mr. Thurmond announced. The ruckus had the others piling into the room again.
"I tell you I was only taking the air, you dolt."
"Ran like a scared rabbit, he did," Shipley said, using a term he’d picked up from his American employer.
"I thought I was being accosted by ruffians, you nincompoop."
"I saw the man for a flash. I could have sworn he was wearing my father’s sapphire stickpin," Claresta declared. Her gaze lifted accusingly to her cousin. "You! You were the only one who could have taken my father’s jewelry case that night. What have you done, you cur?" Claresta would have lit into her cousin with both fists if Lord Norwood had not held her back.
"He was not wearing the stickpin tonight, love."
She calmed somewhat. And Edwin said, "I daresay, he can tell us who was wearing it. Right, Reggie, boy?"
Drake’s fist suddenly shot forward, tapping Lord Westhaven a facer that sent him reeling onto his backside. Drake stood over him and demanded. "Who other than yourself wishes Claresta dead?"
"Dead?" Westhaven’s eyes widened. As he rubbed his chin, he rose to a sitting position but did not attempt to stand, since Norwood would likely set him on his arse again. "You are mistaken, sir. I would never harm my cousin. I will admit I went along with arranging a few accidents to scare off her suitors. Took her father’s jewelry, too. Pawned it to the cent-per-cent man on Clarges. When I went to settle up with the money you lent me, he’d already sold it."
"Good heavens, you loaned him money?" Claresta asked. She realized the interview he’d had with Drake at Norwood Manor had not only been about her.
"Oh, Reggie," Aunt Ester cried, "you are a disgrace, just like your father." With that reproach she ran from the room. When Edwin departed to console his mother, Francine, looking indecisive for a moment, followed.
"Who did he sell it to?" Drake demanded not relinquishing his threatening stance over Lord Westhaven.
"Baines, I suppose. He fit the description the usurer gave me. I’ve been in dun territory for some time now. He learned of it and bought up all my gaming vouchers. He kept harping on how my livelihood depended on getting the company. Made me sign an agreement to give him half ownership. He expected to manage things again once I took possession of Gilbert and Huntington.
"I suppose he thought to hold the jewelry over my head, as well. He must have decided that getting rid of Claresta would solve all our problems, the impatient, blundering idiot. Tonight she was ready to call off the wedding. I overheard her say as much to Mrs. Lockwood when I passed the open window of the library earlier."
"That shall not happen!" Drake said and ordered Shipley to have his carriage brought round, posthaste. He got directions from Westhaven to Baines’ rooms.
"My lord, surely you do not intend going after Baines in your condition," Claresta protested.
"Surely I do, love. But do not worry. The runners I hired should have been keeping an eye on the premises. They must have followed Baines and likely have him in custody by now. You wait here. I wish to talk to you when I return."
He kissed her soundly, then left. She looked at Druscilla and an understanding passed between the ladies. "He did not even take a weapon," Claresta said. "Is there one in the house?"
"Dueling pistols in the library display case. They probably have not been used in an age, but will be better than nothing. Quigley," Druscilla called out to the butler, as Claresta hurried toward the library. "Go out and hail a hackney and be quick about it."
By the time the hackney arrived in Chancery Lane, Baines was fleeing on foot with Drake not far behind. The Bow Street Runners were puffing, trying to keep up. Apparently, they’d merely kept the man under surveillance and waited for Drake to arrive and give them further instruction.
As Baines disappeared into a patch of fog, Drake sent the Runners in flanking positions. The hackney carrying Claresta and Druscilla turned onto the street, and Claresta saw Drake pause under a street lamp, crimson spots visible on his bandage. "Dear God, he’ll bleed to death or Baines will shoot him again."
"Claresta, come back here!" Druscilla yelled as Claresta grabbed the heavy pistol off the hackney seat and jumped from the coach.
Fear for his life drove Claresta through the foggy streets after Drake. Unfortunately, he too, disappeared into the thick mist. When she could not locate him, she assumed he’d turned into one of the alleys, but she wasn’t sure which.
She peered down one or two of the dark lanes she thought he might have taken and called out, "Drake, are you here?"
There was no answer, just the sound of things scurrying though the debris that littered her path. If she remembered correctly, all the alleys on this side of the street led down to the docks. Baines would likely be trying to escape by sea. She would just follow one of the passageways and find Drake when she came out on the other side.
She eased down the cave-like darkness with caution, almost stumbling over debris as she edged her way along. As she neared the other end, she heard someone tell a bawdy joke, and a chorus of laughter followed. She pressed herself between a stack of crates near the exit until the trio of sailors moved on. How foolish of her to follow Drake alone and on foot, she thought, but it was too late to turn back now.
She hefted the pistol in both hands and started to exit onto the thoroughfare. Suddenly, something jumped from behind one of the crates and struck her on the wrist. A sharp stab of pain in her hand caused her to release the pistol. It went skittering across the pavement. A hand clamped over her mouth as she was about to scream, and she felt something cold and sharp pressed against her throat. It seemed Baines had more than one weapon at his disposal.
"Don’t give me any trouble, Miss Huntington, or I’ll slash your throat and leave you here for the starving rats."
Claresta knew Baines meant it when she felt a prick on her neck and blood trickled into the crevice at the top of her gown. He dragged her along until he came to a private dock. A portly man stepped forward on a small barge and said, "Good God, Baines, you cannot mean to bring the gel along. Norwood will kill us for sure."
"Shut up and start working those oars. The captain of the Starlight said he’d wait no longer than midnight."
He shoved Claresta onto the planking and Denton caught her as she almost toppled over. She would gladly have jumped over the side, but Baines twisted her arms behind her and tied her wrists with a piece of hemp. He shoved her to her knees and lifted a long oar at the other end to help Denton propel the vessel toward the ship anchored several hundred feet offshore.
As they pulled away from the dock, Claresta searched the darkened street for Drake. She thought of screaming out for him, but Baines must have read her thoughts.
"Norwood won’t be coming for you now, girly. I can thank you for that. He got distracted when he heard you calling ‘em in that alley. I cracked his skull," Baines said triumphantly. "I dragged him behind those crates just in time for you to come a creeping into my trap."
Claresta wondered what could have happened to the Runners. Dear Drake. She had been the cause of him suffering another head injury. What if Baines hit him too hard? She wouldn’t allow herself to think like that now. He must be alive, or she would somehow know.
"You should have left them both for dead," Denton complained.
"Not this one, not yet. I want her to feel as much humiliation as she dished out to me a year ago."
Her fate was sealed. Death or worse, she knew, waited for her once they were on board that ship. It was the worse t
hat bothered her. She regretted that Drake had been unconscious and probably didn’t hear her the only time she’d vowed her love. She silently repeated it now. I love you, Drake. Please come for me, darling, before it’s too late.
* * *
"There she is," Druscilla cried out.
Drake, who’d continued to search the alleyways, came running over to her. His stepmother and one of the runners had found him lying behind the crate where Baines had left him for dead. After a dousing by foul smelling water Druscilla had ordered the man to scoop from the Thames, he’d came to. At once he remembered Claresta creeping along that dark alley. Since she was not lying here beside him dead, he knew Baines must have taken her.
Drake peered into the darkness out over the Thames until he spotted a lamplight in the distance. As the fog cleared momentarily, he saw a halo of strawberry curls silhouetted around the head of the person seated in the mid-section of the vessel. He knew it to be Claresta. He breathed easier knowing she was still alive.
He looked about for a vessel small enough to catch them. Hidden among several canal boats he saw a dinghy, probably left there by sailors on shore leave.
His stomach roiled as he jumped into the swaying vessel. He willed the queasiness away by thinking of Claresta and how frightened she must be at this moment. He shoved the oars into the rowing crutch.
"Drake?" Druscilla said.
He glanced up as he untied the rope that held the boat to the dock. Reminded of all the times his stepmother had protected him from his father’s heavy hand, Drake realized he owed her much. But she would just have to get used to the idea of having Claresta as a member of the family.
"I’m coming with you," she said, and before Drake could object, she stepped into the boat and plopped down on the plank seat in the stern. He was about to order her out, but with her usual discernment of any given situation, she made too much sense to be defied.
"You’ll need someone to guide you since you’ll have to row backwards. Now, turn a little right. Starboard, I believe it’s called. That’s it. Now just maintain a steady course and we’ll catch them in no time."
He obeyed his stepmother’s instructions, knowing she would guide him on a straight course no matter how little she approved of his fiancée. He would defy Druscilla’s judgment on this one point, however. Claresta Huntington would become his wife whether his family approved or not. He just needed to save her first, he thought, and he paddled with all his might.
* * *
"’Tis bloody bad luck to take a woman on a ship. We should dump her overboard now and be done with it," Denton complained.
Claresta remembered Drake’s anxiety over boarding water vessels, but somehow she knew he would come for her if he could. Her belief in him renewed her courage, and she lifted her chin and said, "You harm one hair on my head and Lord Norwood will see you dead."
Denton, already overwrought with superstition, dropped his oar.
"Dear God, man, look at her. She looks like a bloody specter," he fretted as he slid down in the prow and stared at Claresta.
"You old fool! Grab that before it is lost for good."
But Denton did not budge. He seemed mesmerized by the fog swirling and casting an ethereal glow around Claresta’s glorious mane in the lamplight. He shuddered as if the sight added to his anxiety.
Claresta, seeing this as her one chance for escape, glared steadily at him, and slowly smiled as she pointed her finger at Denton. ‘Twas a disconcerting sight for a man already fraught with fear. She tried to think of something spectral to say, but could only come up with a distorted version of a Bible verse she remembered, "For what you have sown, you shall reap in hell." She added for good measure, "tenfold."
"Dash it, Baines, she’s laid a cursed upon us like she did the others."
"She ain’t no sorceress," Baines denied, as he quickly lost patience with his partner. "I told you ‘twas me what arranged those accidents. The blasted chit had nothing to do with it!"
"B-but, what of Pedigrew? He didn’t have no accident."
"I slipped a little dose of something in his soup, that is all."
Claresta felt relief, knowing once and for all that she was not a jinx, had not been the cause of Pedigrew’s death. Baines’ greed had been the root of all the trouble. She swung around in her seat and shouted, "Murderer!"
Baines lifted the long oar. Claresta closed her eyes and ducked as he swung it around. She heard a cracking sound, then a splash and looked up in time to see Denton flounder in the water and grasp the side of the boat near Baines.
He stomped his partner’s hand with his boot, and Denton gave way and sank beneath the surface. Blood mingled into the swirling current, and Claresta fought down the bile that threatened to rise.
Baines ranted like a madman now. He called them fools and lifted the oar again. Claresta thought she heard Drake shout her name, telling her to jump. She dove overboard. As the cold water of the Thames enveloped her, she heard wood splinter as the oar came crashing down on the deck where she’d been sitting.
"Help her," Drake shouted to Druscilla as their dinghy banged into the side of the barge. Baines had his oar raised to strike out at her again. Drake drove himself into the back of the man’s knees, toppling them both into the brink.
The cold water was a shock, but Drake’s thoughts were all on Claresta. His heart pounded furiously as he scanned the murky water, then caught a sight of Druscilla assisting her into the dinghy. He swam after Baines who was striking a course for the nearby ship.
The crew, having witnessed the scoundrel trying to kill a woman, cheered as Drake caught Baines and clipped him a good one across the chin. The man went out like a light. The ship’s crew looked on with interest, but no one interfered when Drake lashed Baines to the outside prow of the dinghy instead of putting him inside the boat with the women and rowed back to the dock.
* * *
The runners had gone for the Magistrate and were waiting when they reached the dock. Someone produced blankets, and Drake bundled one of them around Claresta. He dried himself off as well as possible with another.
Before they took Baines away, Claresta watched Drake snatch him by his cravat. Choking the man until his eyeballs bulged in fear.
"You won’t need this where you’re going," Drake said and removed her father’s stickpin. He shoved it in his pocket and pushed the miscreant into the arms of the authorities.
Baines saw Claresta and snarled venomously. "‘Tis all your fault. If you would have behaved like any normal chit, all this would never have come to pass."
Drake was about to pummel the man again when Claresta caught his arm. "Enough, Lord Norwood, or you will kill him."
"As he tried to do to you," Drake said bitterly.
"But, you saved my life."
"Yes, and I don’t wish to have to make a habit of it."
"Of course not," Claresta said stiffly. "I’ll put a notice in the papers tomorrow."
Drake helped Claresta and Druscilla into the coach that awaited them. "What notice?" he asked as he seated himself across from the ladies.
"To call off the wedding," Druscilla said offhandedly. "Then you can find yourself a respectable lady to wed and go about in Society as you have always wished."
"As I have always wished," Drake repeated quietly. He suddenly realized the regard of people who placed themselves above the rest of society no longer mattered to him. He looked at Druscilla and smiled.
"My dear Mother," he said, leaving off the step part for the first time. "I think I must nay-say you, unless . . . of course, it is Claresta’s choice to give up her current lifestyle." He took Claresta’s hand in his and felt her shiver as he brought her fingers to his lips. "What do you say, my love? Will you give up your Cit ways for a title?"
Claresta, struck with amazement that he still wanted to marry her, could not speak. They reached Gilbert House, and Drake followed her up the stairs to the door. He gripped her arm and turned her toward him before she could raise th
e knocker.
"I should tell you I am a wealthy man with a healthy investment in a shipping industry if it would sweeten the bargain for you," Drake added.
"Hmmm, yes, a lucrative enterprise from what I hear." Claresta said. She felt warm and cozy standing close to Drake, even though her clothes were still damp. He was wet, as well, and would catch his death if she didn’t send him own his way.
She couldn’t bear to part from him just yet.
"What are you doing?" he asked when she lifted the blanket and placed it over his shoulders.
"Getting cozy," she said wrapping the ends about her. He gripped them in place at her waist.
"Cozy is good," he said when the arrangement brought them even closer together.
She could not resist running her hands up and down the lapel of his damp coat and gloried in the way he looked at her. She remembered the pin and slid her hand into his coat pocket and pulled it out. She attached it to his wrinkled cravat and smoothed down the surrounding material over and over again, wanting only to continue touching him in some way.
"Do I dare hope there is some significance in that gesture," Drake asked huskily.
She thought she should be angry with him for not telling her about his wealth sooner, but then that would be like calling the kettle black. And her feelings for him were so overwhelming that she could not stay piqued at him for long on any account.
"Perhaps there is some significance, my lord?"
"Drake."
"Drake," she said and smiled up at him. She could not resist teasing him a little when she added, "We could form a partnership, you and I. My import business could use a ready form of transport."
"If you give me your word it is to be a lifetime venture, then is done," Drake laughed. He knew the true significance of the partnership they would form and wasn’t the least taken in by her teasing. "I shall apply for a special license, and we’ll have the deed done tomorrow."
"Oh," she said looking nonplused about his decision.
"Is a hasty wedding not to your liking, love?"