Suddenly I had a glimpse of the man behind the title and the money. I saw the shattering disappointment of a father who felt like he’d failed his own family. All judgment and accusation lifted from his being. The rawness of his emotion, while only a fleeting glimmer, seared an impression on my own mind.
While setting out to prove my own innocence, had I in fact broken a man and a family?
“Very well, Miss Clayton.” His voice was only an echo of before. “I’ll see you free from suspicion and your good reputation restored. My deepest apologies.”
The last words I could tell he struggled with. Apologies were not part of his regular vocabulary, I gathered.
“How would you care to proceed?”
Proceed? His question caught me off guard. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“I only ask that you give me a few days before—”
“My lord, you misunderstand.” Realization dawned on me. “I don’t wish to see Isobel arrested.”
Like it or not, Isobel was related to Ben and I couldn’t bear responsibility for that.
He gave me a curious look.
“No one will ever see this, I give you my word. Isobel’s punishment is for you alone to decide. I only wanted to clear my name”—and marry your son, which I did not add—“and assure you that I carry no ill will towards your family.”
“I thank you for being so honorable, Miss Clayton. I’m sorry that I’ve not behaved similarly towards you.”
“Well, now that we’ve got that sorted,” Miss Crabtree interjected as she unbolted the lock. “I must be going. I’ve got an appointment with my draper.”
“Where d’you think you’re going?” a menacing voice threatened as the door swung open.
My heart lurched into my throat.
Mr. Pluckrose blocked their path, pistol in hand and looking a little battered. Henry had certainly given as good as he got.
Two other men flanked him, also looking rather bedraggled.
A dreadful sight, the three of them.
And a dangerous one.
Chapter 43
Pluckrose
Thunder roared inside Henry’s head.
What had Emma given him? He lifted his face from the pillow and a fresh new wave of pain shot through his body. How long had he been asleep?
As he slid from the bed, his breath caught in his throat from his tender ribcage. Mr. Pluckrose had given him quite the thrashing, his muscles sore and tender.
Henry had little experience consorting with men like Mr. Pluckrose. To be honest he’d led a rather sheltered and privileged life. He’d never been exposed to any real danger, at least not until Emma came into his life. Something about it made him feel alive, the adrenaline pumping and his muscles tensing, waiting to strike.
It had never been in his nature to fight but now, looking back, it felt bloody good.
All that pent-up frustration waiting to be unleashed. And he’d held his own.
The swelling in his eye had gone down, although his vision was still a bit blurry. It would certainly take several days before things went back to normal but he was confident they would.
He had been very lucky that constable had shown up when he did, otherwise who knew how long his beating might have lasted.
All that was left to do was clear Emma’s name and then they could plan their life together. Just the three of them.
The thought of becoming a father was slightly terrifying. He wondered who the child would favor in looks.
He sneaked a quick look in the mirror above the dresser and gasped.
Maybe he did look a little worse than he’d thought. The stubble on his face also told him he needed to have a shave. Perhaps Miss Crabtree’s butler could sort him out.
Coming down the stairs, he wondered where all the women had gone. The parlor door stood open but without any occupants inside.
Where would Emma have gone?
A sneaking suspicion snaked its way through his mind that she might have stepped out to deal with his father alone.
She wouldn’t do something so foolish, would she?
The answer came back to him like a loud echo.
Without a doubt she would.
This woman was positively reckless with little consideration for her own safety.
“My lord?” George the butler was standing near the entrance hall. “You’re awake, I’ve got something for you.” He walked towards Henry.
“Have you any idea where Emma has gone?”
The butler cleared his throat.
“Well, my lord, I was told to inform you that they’d gone out shopping, however”—he shifted with uneasiness—“I don’t believe that to be the case.”
Henry raised an eyebrow, indicating that George might continue.
“Their driver has just arrived from the Crown and Anchor with a note for a Mr. Bromsgrove.” He handed Henry the folded paper. “Would that be an acquaintance of yours? The driver was told the name would mean something to you.”
Color drained from Henry’s face.
Before the butler had finished speaking Henry had ripped the seal and was reading the note.
It was from Pluckrose.
Dear Mr. Bromsgrove,
In case my message was unclear I thought to acquire an insurance policy. Should you not agree to my demands then you’ll not see your beloved. I’ve doubled my bill for all the troubles you’ve caused.
P
Maybe the fight did not feel so bloody good after all. How this folly had cost him. And he didn’t mean in a financial sense. Emma’s life was now in the balance.
This was unforgivable. How could he have been so careless? He should have demanded she not leave the safety of this house until the matter was handled.
Of course, he knew Emma would not have heeded his wishes, lovely but stubborn woman that she was.
“My lord?” The butler interrupted his thoughts.
“Sir, would you happen to have a pistol in your possession?”
The butler’s eyes doubled in size at the mention of weapons.
“I do believe that the late Mr. Crabtree was somewhat of an expert shooter himself, so perhaps, sir.”
“Very well, George, I’ll be in need of it.”
Henry was left no choice but to fight fire with fire. He would be prepared should anything be untoward.
First he would stop at the bank and get whatever funds he could access on short notice. He hoped that it would be enough.
He prayed that Emma wouldn’t do anything foolish in the meantime.
I could hardly breathe from inside the trunk.
I’d been lifted into some sort of open-air wagon and bounced around from side to side as it drove away.
Where in God’s name were they taking me?
Henry! My body shuddered at the thought of not seeing him.
Here we’d been so close to setting everything right.
Ten minutes in and my teeth chattered inside my head and I hoped that we would soon arrive, as nausea was starting to take hold.
All of this over a thousand pounds? I’d offered to go back to Miss Crabtree’s and get their money, I had more than that in my bag, but the men had laughed at me.
“Do you play us for fools, miss?” they’d asked.
I’d bitten my tongue. Many answers had flooded through my head, none of which would have had the desired outcome.
The earl himself had given them his version of an upper-class tongue-lashing and that had gotten him knocked out with the butt of the pistol.
Miss Crabtree had crawled to his side, making sure the earl was still breathing.
“Was that really necessary?” she’d scolded Mr. Pluckrose. “A defenseless man? I’ve seen a lot but even thugs should have a small grain of decency, don’t you think?”
Only an old blind woman could render the room silent.
“He should mind his manners, is all,” one of the men said.
“And what would your mother say, dear, if she knew that yo
u were threatening women and old defenseless men?”
I appreciated the fact that Miss Crabtree had not included herself under the label of ‘old’.
The young man scratched his head, not sure how to respond.
“Enough!” Mr. Pluckrose thundered and pointed his pistol towards us. “The lot of ya, I don’t want to hear another word.” He turned to the two men and gestured towards me. “Put her in the trunk, I will take every precaution.”
Something about the way he said the last bit echoed in my brain. I’d heard it said just like that before. Was this just one of those crazy déjà vu moments or had I heard that voice before?
The memory eluded me, just on the cusp but not quite there.
That was when they’d put me in a trunk and carried me out to a wagon.
What would become of brave Miss Crabtree and Lord Pembrooke, I had no idea.
Right now I had bigger fish to fry.
This was the second time in so many months that I’d been taken prisoner.
Fury mingled with fear.
Was this how my story would end? Over a debt of one thousand pounds?
There was more than just my life to consider now; there was my child. Like a true mama bear, anger gripped me, making my blood boil and my head throb.
I was done being a pawn in this charade.
With as much strength as I could muster I slammed my feet hard against the lid of the trunk. My body shook with the force but it wasn’t nearly enough.
A light, rhythmic tapping on the trunk suddenly became louder.
Rain?
Over the rattling of the carriage wheels on the dirt path I heard one loud pop… of thunder?
A dull hum settled over me.
Was I imagining it?
My body reacted. A numb feeling stretched from my fingertips to my toes.
Panic.
I’d worked so hard to get here with Henry and I didn’t want to be thrown back again.
If being kidnapped had not sent the adrenaline pumping through my body, this surely did.
The carriage came to a crashing stop. My head smacked hard against the wooden frame of the trunk.
Everything was pitch black. I braced myself against the floating feeling, but it never came. My ragged breathing was almost deafening in the small space.
And then the lid of the trunk unlocked and flew open.
Even the dull gray of the sky felt too bright. I squinted to catch a glimpse of my assailant.
My hand clutched the pocket knife I kept strapped to my thigh.
I would not go down without a fight.
Blindly, I lunged like a jack-in-the-box out of the trunk, swinging my knife in an arc but not making contact.
“Emma!” Henry’s urgent voice froze my assault.
My eyes struggled to readjust as I felt Henry’s strong arms around my waist, pulling me to him.
“Henry!” I screamed.
Harold’s loud piercing cry called out to me.
Henry brushed my hair away from my face, searching me to make sure I was not injured before crushing his lips on mine.
“How did you—?” My thoughts couldn’t catch up with my mouth.
“It seems you have a stalker.” Henry pointed to the sky. “He found me on my way to the Crown and Anchor and was quite adamant I follow him.” A small bloody peck mark flanked his right cheek.
What am I going to do with that bird?
“But what about Mr. Pluckrose?” I broke away from him to see the driver hunched over in his chair, a bullet wound in his chest. Not Mr. Pluckrose—it was the shorter of his two men.
“He must still be at the inn.”
“Henry, we have to get to him, he’s got your father and Miss Crabtree.”
“Miss Crabtree?”
I registered the distinct lack of concern for the welfare of the earl.
“Yes.” The urgency in my voice was near hysterics. “And your father.”
His eyebrows furrowed with an intense look of disapproval. “You will do nothing of the sort. I will go and—”
I steadied him with my most severe glare.
“As I was saying.” He softened slightly. “You will come with me but stay at a distance. We will not attempt to tackle this on our own, the authorities will have to be notified.”
He helped me mount his horse and then got on behind me, his warmth a comfort and relief.
One danger averted, another yet to unfold.
And we rode off towards the Crown and Anchor.
Between the few constables that we could round up and Henry, we were hardly an intimidating crew. The pub was situated on the edge of town in an area of ill repute. The rain had finally stopped but the clouds hung low and menacing. One hundred black crows squawked from its thatched roof and nearby trees, making the scene rather ominous.
This had to be Harold’s doing.
Sensing danger, most of the patrons in the pub and the inn had taken to the streets, not wanting to get mixed up in the crossfire. Only the hardcore drinkers refused to leave their perch by the bar. This was more excitement than the town had ever seen and they were bound and determined not to miss a moment. Rumors of the hostages inside were running rampant.
Mr. Pluckrose, it seemed, was something of a neighborhood crime legend. Of the constables in Oxwich, only two were willing to get involved.
Even his ties to the pub were strong. The barman himself was brandishing a hunting rifle from within, ready to help him if need be. Although Mr. Pluckrose had relocated to London he still maintained a small operation in Oxwich.
Just our luck.
Of all the people Henry had to get mixed up with, he had to pick the worst of the worst.
The same constable who had helped Henry earlier approached us.
“Lord Drake, I’m not sure how we’re meant to proceed.” The young man looked nervous and unarmed.
“Perhaps I may be of assistance,” a deep voice called out from behind us.
I turned in time to see Lieutenant Walker in his red coat arrive on the scene. Henry, surprised to see his long-time friend, walked over to greet him.
“Walker, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you,” Henry said and gave him a firm handshake and tap on the shoulder.
“I wish I could say the same, good fellow, but you look positively dreadful, it looks as if you’ve been repeatedly run over with a carriage.” The lieutenant’s voice held a mix of concern and humor and then he noticed me just behind Henry and gave me a nod. “Miss Clayton.”
“Lieutenant.” I hadn’t seen him since the day I was taken away from Dormer House by Mr. Jacob. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area when I heard of trouble with the earl, so naturally I thought to make myself useful.”
Henry ran his hands through his hair. “I know the men, or at least one of them, is armed and they are holding my father and an older woman as hostages.”
“Very well, have they made demands?”
“Yes, two thousand pounds.”
The lieutenant gave a sharp intake of breath.
“Have you got that?”
Henry gave him a pained look. “Not even half as much with me. The rest will take time. This is Oxwich not London.”
“No matter, at this point these men must see that their situation is rather hopeless. This could make them more than willing to shed blood.”
A silent gasp escaped my lips at the thought of poor Miss Crabtree. She must be terrified.
“I can offer what I have and give them safe passage to leave.”
“You can’t go in there!” I blurted out, interrupting the two men.
“He still believes he has you in his custody, therefore the upper hand. If I can convince him I will get the rest of the money to him if he releases his hostages then perhaps we can settle this without any further violence. I see no reason he wishes to harm me, only that he desires money, which I can’t very well provide if I’m dead.”
I didn’t like the soun
d of Henry going in there.
“Couldn’t someone else go?”
Henry gave me a trying look. “And someone else’s life is less valuable?” He was a man of honor and he was determined to prove that.
“That’s not what I meant, but it is dangerous. I’ve almost lost you before. I don’t want to take the risk.”
He cupped my face. “You need not worry, he will not harm me.”
The lieutenant didn’t care for this affectionate display and cleared his throat. “I think that’s the best plan. If anything seems amiss then I shall storm the pub and fight at your side.”
An uneasy feeling crept up my spine. This did not sound like a good plan. Too many things could go wrong.
Henry nodded to his friend. He removed the pistol from the back of his trousers and handed it over.
“I will go in unarmed, or else he might sense that my intentions are not honorable.”
This was getting worse by the second. My American sensibilities were screaming, Keep the bloody gun!
Winking at me with his good eye, he turned and strode towards the pub, his jacket blowing in the light breeze. It was torture watching him walk away from me.
Henry reached the door and was now inside.
My heart raced from fear. Harold swirled around above us, picking up on my nerves.
The lieutenant looked down at me with compassion. “He will be fine, he will take every precaution.”
That was when it hit me.
That little sentence that had evaded me came flooding back. In my mind’s eye I remembered being tucked in the alcove at Dormer House right before the ball and hearing two men talking. The one with the deeper voice had said, I will take every precaution.
It had been Pluckrose! How could I not have recognized his deep threatening baritone?
He’d been the other man involved in the plot to kill Henry. He and William were partners. It all made sense.
How could I not have figured this out sooner?
I looked towards the pub with a lump in my throat.
He didn’t care about the money, he wanted to finish the job. Maybe there was a much bigger prize waiting for him.
“Henry’s in danger,” I barely managed to croak before I started running for the pub.
The Wayfarer's Daughter: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 2) Page 18