by Robyn DeHart
He’d threatened to deal with them when he returned, but it was doubtful he’d do much more than give them a stern lecture on following his orders. He could already hear his housekeeper’s explanation, something about how he’d told them that Evelyn was to be their new mistress and following her wishes seemed appropriate.
He was angry with her still, and this little escape of hers hadn’t helped cool his ire, but Evie didn’t seem to be the sort of woman who would play such games. Doubt nagged at him. Regardless of her motivation, he was coming to get her. Now, as he neared Evelyn’s cottage, he considered what he’d say to her. He shouldn’t say anything, merely walk in and toss her over his shoulder and bring her back home.
Home.
When had home become where the two of them were? Only since he’d realized he’d have to marry her. This was honor, nothing more.
Evelyn had told him she didn’t want to marry, that she wanted the financial freedom to write her books. That she’d only consider marriage for love. He couldn’t offer her that, but he could give her all the freedom she needed for writing and perhaps fatten the dowries for her two younger sisters to ensure they made advantageous matches.
The carriage turned down the drive that led to the Marrington cottage. He hadn’t wanted to take a rig, they took longer than being on horseback, but he couldn’t expect her to ride behind him all the way back to his estate.
The wheels had barely slowed when he tossed open the door and jumped to the rocky path. He knocked, but didn’t have to wait long before the housekeeper opened, a handkerchief blotting her red-rimmed eyes. Her mouth opened, then she started crying again. “Lord Somersby, can I help you?”
He frowned. “I’m here to see Miss Marrington. Miss Evelyn Marrington,” he said.
“That’s just it, My Lord, she’s gone. Missing.” She sniffed loudly. “I believe that man took her.”
Fear settled like ice in his bones. “Who took her? What man?”
“It’s all my fault, I let him in. He said he knew her from London. He seemed so nice, and he was so charming and handsome, with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
Charming, handsome and with blue eyes, while that might describe plenty of gentlemen in London, Bennett knew of only one who would know of Evie’s connection with Her Majesty. Bennett grabbed the woman’s arms and made her look at him. “Was his name Lord Morton?”
She sniffed, then nodded. “Yes, I believe it was.”
“And Evelyn left with him?”
“I’m not certain how it happened. He came in and by the time I brought them the tea tray, they were gone. Miss Evie simply vanished with him.”
Bennett swore. He should have known that Morton would do something foolish. The man could not be trusted. He had given Adrian all the details of Morton’s strange behavior, but obviously he hadn’t found the man in time. Had Bennett sent the information to Potterfield after the incident in London, or perhaps even after Gwyneth had tried to blackmail him, then perhaps he wouldn’t have been a danger to Evelyn. But what the devil would Morton need with her?
Bennett didn’t know why Morton had taken her, but none of the reasons he could imagine were good. And his gut told him this was very bad.
…
A quick check of Morton’s London townhome revealed neither the Earl nor Lady Morton were home. Not only that, but once pressed, the staff admitted they had seen neither in more than a day, and the last time they’d seen the Earl, he’d been distraught.
Bennett left there feeling a little distraught himself. He had no notion where the man would take Evie, so he did the only thing he could think of and he started at the headquarters of the Brotherhood, the one at the base of Parliament.
It was empty save for a few servants. Next he made his way back to the tunnels beneath Buckingham. Adrian had met him on his way out and explained that he’d also been looking for the man but hadn’t seen him.
“Try Hyde Park, you know how Morton loves to be seen,” Adrian said. “It is one of his favorite places in town.”
“Would he take her to the meeting spot?” Bennett asked.
“He knows about it. I will check back at his townhome and a few clubs and we can meet back here,” Adrian said.
Bennett left and headed in the direction of Hyde Park near the old Tyburn Gallows. It was where the Brotherhood did much of their business, close enough to Rotten Row for passersby to assume you were there to enjoy the outdoors, but secluded enough to exchange private information.
Bennett slowed the carriage to a halt two blocks from entrance of the park. He hopped down and snuck quietly through the darkness toward the wooded area. In the distance ripples from the Serpentine lapped softly against the shoreline. The moon hung heavy and low in the sky, lighting his path.
He pulled the pistol out of the back of his pants, then he crept forward. Through the clearing of the trees, he saw Morton standing next to Evie, her petite stature dwarfed by Morton’s height. She wore what appeared to be a simple day dress and a cloak, so at least she wouldn’t be cold. The riot of curls on her head sprang in every which direction, an indicator of how she’d been treated perhaps. Though her hands were tied, she seemed nonplussed about it.
Bennett stood at the perimeter of the old gallows spot listening. The line of trees hid him well, enabling him to observe. If being a member of the Brotherhood had taught him anything it was to take a moment to assess the situation before he acted. He hadn’t always followed this, but Evie’s life was at stake and he couldn’t afford to be reckless.
“Why are they not here yet?” Morton asked, continually watching the path that led to their hiding place.
“Perhaps you got the location or time wrong,” Evie said.
Bennett had to smile. Leave it to her to offer helpful suggestions in the midst of her own kidnapping.
“I set this meeting location,” Morton said.
While Bennett could see the fear in Evie’s tight shoulders, she did her best to put on a brave front. He’d never told her that Morton could be dangerous. He’d allowed his own personal feelings about the bastard cloud his mind and Bennett had missed all the connections. They were here to meet someone, but who would want Evie? Enough of the waiting and wondering, it was time to take action. He certainly wasn’t going to stand around and allow that man to hand Evie over to someone more dangerous.
Bennett moved from the line of trees quickly, then stepped out of the shadows, and leveled his gun on Morton. “Hand her over.”
Morton started, looked at Bennett, his eyes wide with something far more alarming than fear, the man looked mad. “I can’t do that, Somersby.” He shook his head and his normally perfect hair swayed with the movement. “They’ll kill her.”
Bennett frowned, tried to keep his focus on Morton and not look at Evie, not yet. “Who? Who is going to kill who?”
“They have my Gwyneth, they’ll kill her.”
“Who are they?” Bennett asked.
“These men.” He shook his head. “I made a deal with them, I would help them with some tasks and in return they’d pay off my debts. You said it yourself, Somersby, I’m close to being sent to debtor’s prison.” He winced. “I didn’t have any other choice.”
Which meant had he given Gwyneth the money she asked for when she’d come to him, then Morton wouldn’t have gotten involved with these men and Evie wouldn’t be in danger. “What were these tasks?” Bennett asked. He wanted Evie safe, but he also had a responsibility to get some answers to these questions.
“They wanted to know about the tunnels, where they were, how to access them. But I only had a limited amount of information. I came to see where you were keeping her in the palace.” Morton said. “They want the Queen. I knew I couldn’t get to her, so I brought them the next best thing. They’ll never know the difference.”
“Who are they?” Bennett asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met any of them, only received messages by post and messenger.”
Bennett beli
eved him, which meant that continuing to question him would get Bennett nowhere. It was time to remove Evie from this situation. “Evie isn’t a part of this, Morton.” Bennett took slow steps towards them. “I’ll help you save Gwyneth, but first let me get Evie to safety.”
“No, I can’t.” He held the gun up to Evie’s head and she released a small shriek. Bennett stopped cold. “Gwyneth is in danger!”
“That’s no one’s fault but your own.” Guilt gnawed at him. Why didn’t he just give her money? Bennett took another step forward.
“Bennett, stop. Look at me,” Evie said.
He didn’t want to look at her. Admittedly he was terrified at the moment, for her, for her safety. Damnation, what had this woman done to him? Gone was all the anger he’d had towards her and in its place was gut-wrenching fear. But he did as she bade, and his eyes locked onto hers. His heart thundered in his chest.
“I understand the dangers of this situation, but if you save me now, we’ll never know who they are.” She gave him a weak smile; he saw tears swimming in her eyes. “This is bigger than you and me. You must uncover who these people are, who are after Her Majesty.”
“I will not risk your life again,” Bennett said.
“It is my choice. Allow me to finish this. It might be the only way to catch them,” she said. “The only way to keep the queen safe.”
“Both of you shut up, I’m trying to think,” Morton said. Then he looked at Bennett. “The girl is right. They will believe you’re here to deliver the Queen and they’ll give me back Gwyneth. Once she’s safe, we can capture him, discover who he is working for.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Bennett said.
“I could have already killed her,” Morton said plainly.
“And I could kill you,” Bennett said.
“Enough from both of you,” Evie said. “I believe they’re here.”
The decision was made for them. Though he worried, Bennett knew Evie was right. If they were to uncover the identity of the people trying to assassinate the queen, he needed to be here for this, play along with the charade. His allegiance should be, first and foremost, to the Brotherhood and the Crown and not Evelyn Marrington. Still, he would never forgive himself if he allowed her to get injured anymore than she already had.
“Morton!” a man’s voice called.
“Here. And I have the Queen,” Morton said.
The rocks from the path crunched beneath the approaching steps. From where Bennett stood, he could make out two shadows moving toward them, then the pair stopped.
“Who else is with you?” the man yelled.
“Tell him you brought Bennett too,” Evie said.
“The Queen’s guard dog, I brought you an extra gift,” Morton said, not missing a beat. “Put your pistol away, Somersby,” he added with a whisper.
Bennett knew what this meant. Morton intended to pass Bennett off as another prisoner, an exchange in addition to the “queen.” And all because of Evie’s suggestion. What was she thinking?
He pocketed the pistol, but kept his hands in front of him so he could quickly retrieve it if necessary. Morton was behaving more erratic than Bennett had ever seen him. When it came down to it, Bennett wasn’t certain he’d be able to reason with the man. And of course he had no idea who this new person was, other than someone who wanted the Queen dead. Bennett kept his hands still and hoped that from a distance it would appear as if his hands were tied as Evie’s were.
The man started moving toward them again. “I’ll kill her, Morton, you know I will,” he called. They came to a part in the path clear enough of the trees for the moon to illuminate them. He had Gwyneth, as Morton had said he did, and she did not appear as if she’d been as well cared for as Evie. Her dress was torn and blood streaked down the left side of her face, matting her hair to her cheek. Bennett suspected the man had struck her there, perhaps with the pistol, to either knock her out or keep her compliant.
“Get on your knees!” the man ordered.
Evie took a step forward. “I will do no such thing. I am your liege!”
“Have you gone mad?” Bennett whispered.
“Trust me.” She nodded to him. “On your knees, as the man instructed,” she said loudly. Her voice rang with authority. “Both of you!”
Bennett eyed her, mesmerized by her presence. She was magnificent, so brave it was humbling. He wasn’t certain that Victoria herself could have handled the situation any better. He fell to his knees, careful to keep his hands pinned in front of him. Morton reluctantly knelt, but kept his pistol out.
“Now, then, you wanted the Queen, you shall deal with the Queen. I am outraged by this entire situation,” Evie said.
The man had come close enough that Bennett could see enough of his features. It was the same man who had attacked Evie in her bedchamber—well, in Victoria’s bedchamber. He clutched Gwyneth to his grubby side, blood caked on the side of her face and hair, one of her eyes was swollen shut. The man grabbed Gwyneth by the hair and shoved her off into the grass. She fell with a whimper.
“Gwyneth!” Morton yelled, and scurried to be at her side.
The worthless bastard cared not what happened to any of them save her, and Bennett appreciated that the man was out of the way. Now he could control the situation better, if Evie would allow him to do so.
The man walked right up to Evie. He was broad, but not tall, and was barely taller than her. He wore a hat low on his brow. Dirt smudged on the man’s cheeks and his clothes strained to cover his muscular form. Bennett tightened his hands into fists to resist the urge to ram his body into the man’s.
“Who sent you?” Evie asked.
“No one sent me. I work alone,” the man said.
Bennett couldn’t help but notice the man spoke with an educated edge to his voice and an authority that was normally reserved for the aristocrats.
“I don’t have to answer your questions. You might be queen now, but I don’t recognize you as such. Women don’t belong on the throne,” the man said.
“And you intend to change that, do you?” Evie asked. She was remarkable, Bennett realized, not for the first time. Intelligent and brave, resourceful and creative, she was nothing short of mesmerizing.
As the man got closer to Evie, his meaty fists clenched at his sides, Bennett was primed and ready to attack if the situation called for it, but he would wait and see if Evie couldn’t get some information. Trust her, she’d said. He could do that; after all she’d done, he owed her that much.
“If I have to,” the man said.
“Killing me won’t solve anything,” she said.
“I’m not going to kill you. You’re coming with me, but we’re going to leave the rest of these people behind.”
Evie tilted her chin, effectively looking down on the man before her. “I am not intending to go anywhere with you.”
“You don’t have a choice,” the man said. His hand grabbed her arm. Bennett was on him in an instant. He might have been shorter in stature, but the man was strong and Bennett had to work to connect his blows. In the process, he took several himself. Pain shot through his head as one landed square on his jaw. His teeth rattled. The man dropped his gun and Bennett took the opportunity to kick it as hard as he could away from them.
Evie had moved herself steps away from Bennett and the man’s scuffle, but it wasn’t far enough. He needed to get her out of here. He aimed one blow to the man’s face and struck him as hard as he could. While it didn’t knock the man unconscious, it did rattle him enough that Bennett was able to stand and grab Evie. He leveled the pistol on the man.
“Get up slowly,” he told him. “You are going to give us some bloody answers if I have to squeeze them out of you.” Why hadn’t he thought to bring restraints? He’d only thought of Evie and getting her to safety. She was certainly impairing his ability to do his job, but wasn’t keeping her safe part of his duties?
The man stood, his jaw clinched as if to already refuse answering questions.
“You killed her!” Morton yelled from the ground where he knelt by Gwyneth’s body. Then he stood and ran at them, tackling the would-be assassin to the ground again. He put his hands around the man’s bulky neck.
“Morton, think of what you’re doing,” Bennett said. “We need him alive and coherent to answer questions. Our duty is to Her Majesty.”
Morton looked up at him, then nodded curtly. He released the man’s throat and stood. “I wish I could live with that,” he said, then aimed his pistol and shot the man. He fell backwards.
Evie screamed.
“What have you done?” Bennett asked.
“What needed to be done.” Morton eyed him. “It matters not, there will always be more. This one was merely one man working for another man.”
“What do you know?” Bennett asked.
He shrugged. “I told you. Nothing. I only ever got notes.” Then he raised his pistol and pointed it at Bennett and Evie. “Get out of here before I kill the both of you too.”
Bennett pulled Evie to him. “We need to get you out of here.”
“What about them? We can’t leave dead bodies here in the park,” she said.
“I shall send for a constable to come and take care of matters, then I’ll send a message to the Brotherhood. All will be well.” Though he wasn’t quite certain he believed that any longer. At least Evie was safe.
“Go!” Morton yelled.
Evie nodded. Bennett noticed the fear lining her eyes and the way she turned her body away from the bleeding man at their feet. With nothing left to say, he grabbed her hand and led her to the carriage. They hadn’t caught the assassin, but at least Evie was safe and tonight that was all he cared about.
Chapter Twelve
Evie wasn’t certain her heart would ever slow. The pounding of it seemed to echo through her entire body. She and Bennett didn’t speak the entire carriage ride back to her family’s cottage. While she missed her family terribly, she was thankful they had yet to return home. She had no interest in sharing the details of the evening with them.