Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05]

Home > Other > Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05] > Page 26
Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05] Page 26

by The Governess Wears Scarlet


  “Abby,” a voice whispered. “Abby the Gale.”

  Abigail’s head whipped around.

  She gasped.

  Reggie stood in the shade under a nearby oak tree. He was taller than she remembered and had a new scar along his left cheek. Yet she’d know the pale-haired, brawny young man anywhere.

  Her heart squeezed with joy at seeing him. Licking her lips, she spoke to the boys, “Felix, Seth!”

  The lads looked over at her.

  “I’m going to say hello to an acquaintance. I’ll be right back.”

  They waved and continued their game.

  Turning, she quickly moved toward her brother, and together they slipped behind the large oak tree.

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. He smelled of man and beer and felt bigger than Abigail remembered. His muscles had thickened, his shoulders had widened. She hugged him so as never again to let him go.

  He squeezed her tightly. “Ah, Abby the Gale. It’s been too long.”

  After long moments, she found her voice, “How did you find me?”

  Exhaling, he stared down at her. His light blue eyes glowed with affection. “You look good. You finally have some meat on yer bones.”

  “Where’ve you been?” she asked as a million questions rushed through her mind. “Your letter sounded so dire. I was terrified that something terrible had happened to you.”

  All gladness washed from his features as his face fell and his gaze darkened. He pulled her deeper into the grove, away from where the boys played. The trees shielded them from the sun and any stray eyes.

  “What did you do?” she asked, fearfully.

  Releasing her, he stepped away. His gray coat was worn at the elbows, his brown breeches torn at the knee, and his brown boots badly scuffed. Still, he was healthy, and that’s all that mattered to his sister.

  “Do you need money?” she asked. “I can get you some…”

  He barked a mirthless laugh. “Not enough to cover my debts.”

  “How much do you need?”

  Looking up at her, his gaze was sad beyond his twenty years. “I saw an opportunity and I took it, Abby.”

  Her heart filled with dread weighing a stone. “What happened?”

  “I didn’t realize that I was crossing a man you do not cross.”

  “Lucifer Laverty.”

  His brow furrowed.

  Noting his surprise, she explained, “I’ve been asking around town for you.”

  “So you know.”

  Fear and anger washed through her. “I know nothing beyond the fact that you’re involved with some very dangerous people.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered. Swallowing, he ran his hand through his fair hair. “Look, I found a way out. Lucifer Laverty will forgive my debts and call things square.”

  “How?”

  “I made a deal.”

  Clenching her hands, she tried to keep the alarm from her voice. Reggie often tried to dig his way out of a hole by digging deeper. “What kind of deal?”

  “You come with me…to him.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He wants to meet you.”

  “And do what with me?” she demanded. Swallowing, she lowered her voice, trying to maintain her frayed calm. “For what purpose?”

  “He promised me you wouldn’t be harmed.”

  “And you believe him?” Her voice was incredulous.

  “I do. No matter that he’s a criminal, when he makes a deal, he sticks with it.”

  Turning away disgusted, Abigail pressed her hand to her aching head. “You have to believe him in order to justify introducing your sister to the most notorious criminal of London. I don’t believe him. I can’t fathom why he wants anything to do with me.” She threw up her hands. “How does he even know that I exist?”

  “Will you come?” he begged. “They’ll kill me if I don’t bring you.”

  She stilled. “Truly?”

  “Yes. It’s either bring you or die. That’s the deal. Either way, Lucifer Laverty sees the debt as paid.”

  Exhaling, Abigail peeked through the branches and watched the lads playing with Foster. So innocent, so dear. She swallowed. She’d miss them terribly if anything happened to her.

  And Steele…

  Reggie stepped forward. “They will kill me, Abby. This is my final chance to clear my debt. The only way, they said, or I’ll be taking a swim in the Thames, permanently.” He held open his hands. “Could you live with that, Abby? Being the cause of my murder?”

  Stabbing a finger at him, she growled, “I didn’t cause this! You did!”

  “I wouldn’t be in this fix if you’d kept your skirts lowered with that Byrnwyck bastard! It’s your fault I’m running from the law!”

  Gritting her teeth, Abigail felt the unfairness of his charge like a thundercloud inside her, roaring with fury. But the old guilt reared its ugly head, filling her with shame and making her feel responsible. When her parents had died, they charged her with looking after her brother. She’d done a pretty miserable job of it, and if she could help Reggie, she would, come hell or what may.

  But he was twenty years old. When would he finally grow up and take responsibility for his own actions? When would he stop blaming her for his stupid choices?

  “Abby,” Reggie licked his lips. “I’m asking you this as a favor to me. Lucifer promised me he wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t think that it’s too much to ask with my life at stake. Do you?”

  “But it makes no sense! What does he want with me?”

  “I don’t know…but if you don’t come…” He let the threat hang in the air.

  “Fine. Let me get the boys home and I’ll tell Lord Steele…” What? What could she tell the man that would convince him to let her throw herself at the mercy of Lucifer Laverty?

  Steele would never allow her to be placed in such danger.

  Steele would fight for her, she suddenly knew.

  No matter that his feelings did not perfectly match hers, Jason Dagwood, Viscount Steele, was the kind of man who would do battle for his friends and never surrender.

  The knowledge warmed her heart and gave her strength.

  Hope blossomed within her.

  If anyone could see a way out of this mess, it was Steele. “When I bring the boys home—”

  “No!” Reggie shook his fist. “The boys come with us!”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “What?”

  “That’s the deal. I bring you and the Devonshire boys and all my debts are paid.”

  The sky seemed to darken, the breeze suddenly died, and the birds in the trees fell silent. Sudden coldness draped Abigail’s heart, and every emotion inside her deadened until she was as icy as a winter’s frost. Her brother had just crossed the line between right and wrong so glaringly that every ounce of responsibility and guilt that had ever plagued her evaporated into mist. “Never.”

  “They’ll kill me, Abby!”

  “I will not put my children in danger.”

  “They’re not your children!” Reggie shrieked. “You’re a hired nanny! To them you’re nothing but an interchangeable servant! I’m your flesh and blood!”

  “They’re children!”

  “You’re responsible for me! Me!” He slapped his chest. “The one you left without a home! The one you dragged through the streets! The one who tried to save you from the Byrnwycks! This mess is all your fault, and you are beholden to me to get me out of it!”

  At that second, it was as if a guillotine dropped, slicing Abigail’s life in two. The ghost of who she’d been lay dead on the ground, and a new Abigail emerged from the carnage, freer, bolder, stronger. A feeling of lightness enveloped her, as if it were a new dawn—she had stepped out from the shadow of her brother’s troubles, and it was time to start living her own life.

  She didn’t control her brother and was not accountable for his decisions. He clearly didn’t consider her when making his choices; she didn’t owe
him her life, but she owed it to herself.

  She shook her head, her voice low, confident, and laced with sadness. “You have dug yourself into a hole, Reggie, and for that, I am sorry.”

  Clenching her hands, her voice rose with fervor, “But you are twenty years old. And it is time for you to claim ownership of your own actions. You are the only one responsible for this fix. And I will not allow you to endanger two innocent boys because you cast yourself into the briars.”

  “But Abigail—”

  “No, Reggie. Leave us alone. I love you but I can’t abide by you hurting anyone else. Please go.”

  Chapter 35

  “Oh no!” Steele screamed, running forward to the footman lying on the grass. His heart was in his throat and panic thundered through his veins. “Foster! Foster! What happened?”

  Squatting beside his footman, Steele grasped his arm and helped Foster sit up. The man’s face was battered; blood matted his hair and dripped from his nose. His leg was bent at an odd angle, clearly broken. “I’m sorry, m’lord! I’m so sorry!”

  “Are you all right? Where are the boys? Miss West?”

  “I’m fine…” The man’s head swayed as a small sob escaped from his throat. “But the boys! The boys! They stole the boys!”

  Swallowing hard, Steele forced his heartbeat to calm. “But they’re alive?”

  Sniffing, Foster nodded. “Last I saw ’em, the boys were all right. Them and Miss West.”

  Steele almost sagged with relief. They were alive! Please, dear God, give me a chance to save them!

  Bowing his head, the footman began to sob.

  “Tell me what happened, Foster! Please, tell me!”

  “There were too many of them!” The footman wiped his bloody nose with his sleeve. “I fought and fought but then my leg…”

  “Who?” Steele demanded. “Who were they?”

  The footman’s eyes cleared, then narrowed, and he spat. “Claude was with them. I thought he came ta help, but he was with the bastards!”

  Steele felt his insides go cold. “Claude.” The word was an oath; when Steele got his hands on his former servant, he’d kill him. “Tell me everything, Foster. Every last detail.”

  Wiping his eyes, Foster sniffed. “Miss West went to talk with a young man. She said he was an acquaintance. Then they argued. She told him to go away. Then she told the boys we had to leave. Quickly, she said. But Felix wouldn’t budge; he wanted to go to the fair, ya see.”

  “I know, Zachariah told me,” Steele interjected, imagining the young boy demanding that his plan be executed. He was only eight years old; he had not known the danger he was in.

  “Miss West demanded they go right away. Seth began ta cry and Felix argued. The men must’ve been waiting nearby and the ruckus…well, the knaves came. Claude and the others.”

  Steele’s heart pounded as fear laced his tongue. “How many?”

  The footman frowned. “Five, six? They were big ’uns. And nasty blokes.”

  Steele swallowed. “What happened then?”

  “Claude tried to grab Miss West but she…she fought him.” Foster’s voice was filled with pride. “She was quick, she was—one minute he was grabbing her arm and the next he was on the ground.”

  That’s my girl! Steele was shocked at the sudden tears that burned his eyes and the unfamiliar longing that gripped his heart.

  Foster continued, “She told us to run. But there were too many.”

  Steele gripped Foster’s arm, fear clenching his heart. “Did they hurt the boys? Miss West?”

  Foster’s eyes were filled with the terror at the memory. “Felix…he ran to a tree and climbed to the top. But Seth…” Foster gulped. “One of the buggers grabbed Seth and tossed him over his shoulder!”

  Bile rose in Steele’s throat. Please God! Please God! Please God!

  Foster shook his head. “Miss West…she went crazy, screaming and…she jumped on the man like nothing I’ve ever seen, tearing at his eyes, yanking on his hair. Screaming and screaming. The man dropped Seth and turned on her.”

  Steele’s heart stopped. Gripping Foster’s coat, he cried, “Is she all right? Did they hurt her?”

  Foster shook his head, his eyes filled with amazement. “The first fella she’d been talking to jumped in the fray and he wouldn’t let anyone touch her. He fought against his own, screaming that Lucifer had promised that she not be hurt.”

  Steele stilled, his awareness flaring. “Lucifer? Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. He said Lucifer. And when the others heard that name, they stopped and let her go.”

  “They let her go?”

  “No, they made the first fella, the one who’d helped her, hold her arm and keep her from running, not that she would’ve ever left Felix and Seth. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “No, she wouldn’t.” Steele wondered about the man who’d helped Miss West, but pushed it aside for later thought. “What happened then?”

  “One of the buggers, a hairy fella as big as an ox, he told Felix that he’d break Seth’s arm unless Felix came down. Felix was very brave…he did as they said. Then they dragged ’em all away…Miss West, the boys…and the young fella that had helped Miss West…they dragged him, too.”

  Steele swallowed, tasting panic. “But they weren’t hurt?”

  Foster shook his head. “They were unharmed, last I saw ’em.” He looked up, his face filled with fear. “But where have they gone? What are they doing with them? Why did they take them?”

  Licking his dry lips, Steele released the footman and stood. His heart thundered, his mind raced, and his breath was coming in hard, fast surges.

  “What’ll we do?” Foster cried. “What’ll we do?”

  “First I need to get you medical attention.” Exhaling, Steele clenched his hands. “Then I’ll bring them home.”

  Chapter 36

  Abigail paced the small room, her shoes echoing softly on the thin wool drugget covering the floor. The chamber was about twenty paces long and twenty paces wide, with a heavy wooden door to the hallway that was bolted from the other side.

  To her left was a side door leading to the small chamber where the boys slept, and to her right a dirty barred window that could not open more than two inches. She’d pushed it open as far as it would go, but the window was secured by a thick chain hammered into the wood. She could not escape that route. But even if she succeeded getting out that window, it was a four-story drop to the ground.

  Nor could she try to wave down a Good Samaritan or call for help, since the window looked out over a deserted alleyway and no street was anywhere near. The only good things the window could provide were a hint of fresh air in the musty room and a sense of the hour. The sun had set, darkness had fallen, and by her reckoning it must be about ten o’clock.

  The air smelled of burning wood from the smoldering hearth and the single tallow candle that provided the only dim light in the room. Shadows yawned wide, pricking at her nerves and exacerbating her anxiety.

  Hugging herself, Abigail exhaled, frustrated, afraid, and wondering what the blazes a criminal like Lucifer Laverty wanted with her and Seth and Felix. The most likely scenario Abigail could scratch up was that they were being held for ransom. And that meant the threat of death. She shuddered. But to cross the Solicitor-General of England?

  Then there was the possibility that this was some sort of scheme to exact revenge against Lord Steele. And there had been that attack on him at the park. She did not doubt that it all was related. But how? And if the villain was willing to attack the solicitor-general and kidnap two boys in broad daylight, then what else was he willing to do?

  But no, she couldn’t think such things or she’d be useless to the boys. They needed her to be calm, to be ready to grab any opportunity that presented itself. She had to be at her very, very best…

  And she was terrified that she wasn’t up to the task.

  Clenching her hands, she pushed aside all fears of inadequacy, knowing that she would
do whatever necessary to save Seth and Felix from harm…

  Abigail stepped over to the side door and opened it slightly, checking on them for the thousandth time that night.

  A small tallow candle burned on the bedside table, encasing the boys’ slumbering faces in a golden glow. They huddled together in sleep, fatigued from the crying and fear that had gripped them since the kidnapping that afternoon.

  The tiny room was barely big enough for the bed in which they slept and the bedside table upon which the candle sat. Abigail guessed that it might have been a dressing room or closet at one time. In this instance, however, it was being used by Lucifer Laverty as a prison cell.

  The name brought bumps of panic to her skin.

  They were at the mercy of one of the most feared and reviled men in London.

  And it was Reggie’s fault. She still couldn’t believe that Reggie had traded her and the boys to save his skin. Her hands clenched. She wanted to strangle him for it.

  Her heart pinched as her anger boiled. He was a reckless fool!

  Yet he’d fought his own men and paid dearly for it. When they’d arrived at the house, the brutes had been less than gentle with her baby brother as they’d dragged him off to parts unknown.

  Please let the stupid idiot be all right, she prayed.

  Hugging herself, she walked over to the window. Peering through the small opening, Abigail stared at the rooftops, wondering where Steele might be. He’d be terrified, angry, and probably already had an army of Bow Street Runners scouring London for them.

  The thought gave her hope…If anyone could save them, it was Steele.

  She was overwhelmed by the sudden realization that she counted on him and trusted him as she had no other. He shouldered her troubles, accepting them as his own, making her feel as if she were not so very alone in this world. With him, she found a love that went beyond anything she’d ever felt for anyone before, an affinity that was more like a sense of partnership.

 

‹ Prev