by Claudy Conn
“As to that, I saw his coach on the Post Road when I crossed at Finley and flagged him down. I explained that I was coming for you and that we would be leaving for London in the morning. He introduced me to Thomas and gave me a quick rendition of the events of the last few days. In fact, he said that he had a few loose ends to tie up and would soon join us in London.”
Bess’s face brightened. “Oh, I see, but still—could we not just stay till he gets back today?”
“No, he agreed that he would like to see you safely in my care until this ugly business with the boy is done.” Her father put an arm about her then and said softly, “As always, my minx of a child, you are fore and center when you should be safely knitting at home.”
She laughed out loud. “Knitting, Papa?”
He chuckled with her and added, “No, your mother had no love for knitting quietly either. However, I know also how you rushed in and saved the boy—”
“The earl told you?” she squealed, worried now that her father would see fit to keep a closer watch on her.
“No, young Thomas did. The boy asked if you were my daughter, and when I answered that you are, he told me that you are a right’un and his hero.”
Bess laughed. “Some hero—if it hadn’t been for Donna bringing Robby and John … er, the earl rushing in, I, well …” She remembered it was her father she was speaking to and said, “Well, thank goodness for Donna and the men.”
“You will tell me all about it over coffee. Sit.” He poured her a cup and handed it to her. “Maddy is packing your things, and we will all depart shortly afterwards.”
Donna said, “Eeep. I have to go up and pack!” She grabbed Robby by the hand and pulled him along.
“Why do I have to go up with you?” he complained. “Want to sit and chat with Bess’s father, tell him about the events of the last couple of days, and have a bite of breakfast with him.”
“Bess will tell him, and you already had a full breakfast.” She gave him the ‘I will kill you if you don’t come with me’ eye, which Bess saw and giggled silently over as she watched them leave.
Her father turned back to her and nodded. “I see that you have been enjoying yourself immensely while you are here.”
“Yes, Papa, I do so hate to leave for London. Must we?”
“Yes, we must,” he answered softly. “Saw Fleet yesterday. Said he was on his way to London as well. Said to tell you he looks forward to waltzing you about, if you promise not to step on his feet.”
“Horrid, odious Fleet. I have never stepped on his feet,” Bess returned with a shake of her head and a laugh.
“And,” he said, eying her quizzically, “as I mentioned, the earl should be there shortly after we take up residence.”
She shrugged and said, “As to the earl, I doubt he will even bother with us when he gets to London. Has his own set, doesn’t he?” In spite of what her heart told her, the thought had crossed her mind that she would lose him once in London.
“He did, but I rather think things are a bit different now,” her father said and gave her an odd look.
“Whatever do you mean?” Hope lined her words in spite of the cool façade she had meant to maintain.
“We shall see,” her father answered.
Bess sipped her coffee as she mulled over how she would respond to this when the butler, Gideon, prevented any further comment as he stood at the open doorway and announced, “Mary Russell and Mr. Bernard Holland.”
Bess had forgotten about them and nearly choked on her coffee. She turned to her father and said, “This is it, Papa, and forgive me now for I must do my part—I shall explain it all later.”
~ Nineteen ~
THE EARL’S COACH lumbered down the Post Road. His driver, he knew, would be watchful and ready. Not one, but two guns rested in his lap as he listened for the sound of approaching horses.
He didn’t have long to wait.
He knew his man was desperate enough to try this in broad daylight, he knew his man had hired two screws to ride with him, and he knew Holland would not leave this to chance but take part in it himself.
As it turned out, he was right.
The sound of three horses, their hooves thundering across the short stretch of field from the woods to his left, approached at a heady pace.
He could see they had scarves tied around their faces. All wore nondescript dark clothing and brandished guns.
His own men followed at a distance, but he knew at the first sound of gunfire they would ride hard and arrive within moments. It was his driver’s job to fire off a shot as soon as the riders approached.
An explosion in the air gave notice that the first part of his plan had been accomplished. The coach slowed to a halt, and the earl heard Holland’s voice, though he tried to disguise it, say, “Stand and deliver!”
The earl opened his door slowly, surveyed the three on horseback, and said, “Och, but what would ye be wanting me to deliver?” He then jump down in front of one of the men’s horses, waving his hands wildly as he landed so that the horse reared and the rider lost balance. He took aim and shot the fellow, and even as the rider fell to the ground unconscious he had the horse’s reins, swinging the horse around to give him cover as he aimed his second pistol. “Aye then, mayhap ye were in the wrong of it, and ’tis ye who must deliver,” the Earl of Dunkirk said with a sneer.
Holland leveled his gun at the earl, but his hand was shaking. He had no cover from the other man he had hired, for it had been the man’s brother who had been shot, and he was on the ground screaming his brother’s name. “Ray … Ray … Lord bless ye, Ray … there, there ye ain’t dead …” He hugged him and produced an anguished cry from Ray. At that point, three of the earl’s men rode up, guns leveled and a threat in their body movements.
The earl looked at them, nodded, and looked back at Bernard, who lowered his gun as the earl said, “I think it is over, doona ye think so? I tell ye why, Bernard—I may call ye Bernard, may I not? Sure then, we be well acquainted, and here it is for ye to chew. The boy isn’t here. He is already safe with his father, and his father knows what ye and Mary meant to do with his only son. He wishes to avoid scandal. But he means to handle this to keep his boy safe. So this is what he proposes. He will forget these unfortunate incidents if ye leave him and his son in peace. He never wishes to see either of ye again. Ye have been removed as guardian, and I am honored to now hold that position. However, upon the squire’s death, he has provided for Mary Russell, though she deserves to starve in a gutter, and he has also written in a small living for ye. But he wants ye to know he despises ye both, and if anything happens to the boy, ye both lose it all. So, if I were ye, I would make certain Thomas remains safe all his life.” The earl shrugged. “What is it to be, for I tell ye, if it were my decision, I would throw ye to the beasts and let ye die in debtors’ prison.”
* * *
Holland’s eyes blazed with fury and hatred, and he made up his mind then and there that he would, in fact, do what Sally Sonhurst had begged him to do. And he knew just how he would accomplish the deed. It gave him great pleasure to think of the earl tied to a woman he would be miserable with. The earl had foiled his plans to secure a good part of his uncle’s inheritance, and that after he had taken such pains to convince Mary to go along with his plan. She hadn’t known he planned to kill the boy, had thought they’d only give him over to a sailing vessel headed for Australia. He wanted the large payment Sally had promised him, yes, he needed it, but he needed revenge as well.
“Agreed,” Holland said with a growl. “Damn your soul, agreed, though I can’t speak for Mary.”
“Ah, but ye can, because, as I said, ye both will get nothing if anything happens to the boy.”
“Understood,” Holland snapped. He then turned his horse away and rode off alone, leaving the men he had hired to fend for themselves.
* * *
The uninjured man looked up at the earl and said, “Would ye please, flash covey, would ye see to m�
��brother?”
The earl sighed. “Aye then,” he said, looking at his three men still hovering protectively and nodding. “Put him in the coach, and one of ye stay inside with him. You two ride with them and take him over to Dr. Trunge and have him dig the bullet out of him and send them on their way. And, men, I thank ye for yer courage. It will not be forgotten.” He moved and took the reins of one of his men. “I’ll be needing this horse, lad. I trust ye to get back to Searington as soon as ye may and make sure nothing ill occurs there.”
He took his man’s mount and started off. He wanted to see the squire and give him the results of his efforts and peace of mind.
* * *
Lady Bess gazed out of her London townhouse’s bow street window but scarcely saw the occasional coach and passerby. All she could see was blue eyes staring into hers.
They had been in London for two days. Two entire days without any word from the earl.
Her father was reading the Chronicle at her back, but she felt his gaze stray to her now and then, and finally he asked, “Bess, my dear child, you have been in the doldrums for longer than I am used to seeing.”
“Yes, Papa. I am worried a bit about the situation with Thomas, and there hasn’t been any word from the earl.”
“There will be,” her father said with conviction.
She eyed him. “Do you know something?”
“Only that he will get word to you as soon as he may. Good man, the earl, solid. I like him.”
She smiled warmly at her father and said, “Do you, Papa? That is wonderful.”
“Humph,” said her parent, who then eyed her and patted a place beside himself. “Sit. I feel there is something on your mind that you would like to discuss.”
Bess considered him. She wanted to confess what she felt for the earl. She wanted to see what he thought of it. The words hung around in her throat. She had always trusted her father with the truth, and she wanted so very much to give him as much truth as she could and unburden herself and her doubts.
The door opened wide, putting an end to that, and their butler announced, “Lord and Lady Mabry.”
Donna went to Bess and worriedly asked, “Anything yet?”
“No, not a word, and I am going nearly mad with worry.”
“Silly chits,” declared Robby. “What—should the earl dash off a note and post it when he means to be here? Stands to reason he will arrive any day now, and then we’ll know.”
Donna sighed and looked at Bess speculatively. “Do we go to Jersey’s ball tonight?” She waved a hand. “It feels odd to go about enjoying ourselves when those awful people might be plotting against the boy.”
“I think we must, but I don’t think I can enjoy myself one bit,” agreed Bess.
“Doona ye think so? Even if I tell ye that I have matters in hand?” said a familiar and beloved Scottish voice from the library doorway.
It was all Bess could do not to run into his arms, and she did, in fact, heedless of anyone’s watchful eye, go right to him with her hands extended.
He took her ungloved fingers to his lips, and she almost felt as though his arms had gone around her as his blue eyes caressed her. He gently squeezed her hands before releasing them, and Bess felt locked in his gaze.
It was a moment—their moment, where all else faded. If anyone spoke at their backs, they did not hear them. If anyone moved at their backs, they did not see them.
The Earl of Dunkirk and Lady Bess lost themselves to each other. Static electricity filled the air around them, and it was all Bess could do not to melt against him and hold him with the intention of never letting him go.
Bess’s father coughed and broke the spell. The earl turned to nod respectfully to him and came into the room. He shook the viscount’s hand. “My lord.”
Robby asked, “Before these chits go mad, tell us then, what of Holland?”
He quickly recounted the events of the confrontation with Bernard and his subsequent visit with the squire.
Bess clapped her hands and said, “I have said this before, and I must say it again and again. You are brilliant. It was your plan, wasn’t it, to have the squire write his will like that?”
He smiled softly and said, “Och, lass, I merely suggested it as a way of avoiding the scandal he was so distressed would come of his relatives’ arrest.”
“It was very clever,” said Bess’s father. “I heartily approve, and the lad couldn’t want for a better guardian.”
“That wasn’t my idea. I was honored of course, but the squire felt that as Thomas and I get on so well, I would be in a position to give him a home. I am, in fact, a bit daunted by the fact that I shall soon be saddled with a ward.” He grinned, and Bess could not see that he was bothered by this. He looked pleased as could be.
“Well, this has ended quite well, though I hate to think those two awful people have gotten away with what they have done,” Bess concluded.
Everyone agreed to this, and after a few moments of everyone expressing their feelings on the subject the viscount said lightly, “Do you attend Jersey’s ball tonight, my lord?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” the earl said, looking at Bess.
The viscount gave him a calculating look and said, “Aye then, what say you now, Bess? Does it hold allure for you now, the Jersey’s ball?”
“Well, yes, now that Thomas is safe and sound,” Bess answered, a smile in her eyes as well as on her face.
The earl turned to Bess and said, “I must go now, as I have a few things to attend to, but do ye promise me a dance tonight, lass?”
“Aye,” she said with a lilt and a tease. “I dooo.”
“Och, lass,” was all he could manage under everyone’s interested gazes. He turned and started off, saying, “Tonight then.”
And he was gone.
Donna looked at her friend and said, “Well, well, well.”
~ Twenty ~
SALLY SONHURST ROLLED over on her bed and eyed her young maid, who stood hesitantly in the open doorway of her ladyship’s elegant bedroom. “What is it, Maggie?”
“Mr. Holland requested me to tell ye, m’lady, that he is wishful of a private word with ye,” Maggie said and bobbed a curtsey.
“Does he?” Sally sat up and thought a moment. “Very well then, send Mr. Holland up to me.”
If her maid disapproved, she did not show it by look or word as she nodded and said, “At once, my lady.”
“Leave my door open—he knows the way, so you needn’t show him up here.” She smiled wickedly. “Unless of course, you wish to join us.”
The maid, once again, did not display any expression as she turned and said simply, “Aye then, m’lady, oi’ll be leaving ye then.”
Sally Sonhurst laughed and sat up, pulling her gauzy nightdress low over her breasts so she was nearly exposed. As she waited for Holland she donned an appropriate pout. He had refused her when last they met. He had not wished to be embroiled in anything to do with the Earl of Dunkirk, who he said could be a dangerous enemy he did not wish to have.
Holland arrived at her doorway and said on a low, husky note, “Taking a nap before the ball?”
“Waiting for you, Bernard,” she answered with a welcoming smile. “Have you come to tell me you have changed your mind?”
“Indeed, I have most certainly changed my mind, and, my pretty, it will happen tonight, when your earl least expects it,” Holland said on a hard note and with a lift of his nose.
She sat bolt upright, exposing her breasts completely as she scurried across her bed towards him. He marched over and took them roughly in his hands as he said hoarsely, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“No, I have had the license ready because I was sure in the end you wouldn’t be able to refuse my offer. All I have to do is send round for that elbow crooker who calls himself a minister. I shall have him here, sober or no, but only tell me, what changed your mind? You said you didn’t want to make an enemy of the earl.”
“He changed m
y mind. Let us say he made an enemy of me when he stuck his hands into my business.” All this while he had been fondling her breasts, but on this last statement, he bent and licked her nipples and then pushed her backwards firmly onto the mattress.
“First, how, how can you accomplish it tonight?” she said, holding her hand to his chest.
“Because before I came here, I visited with one of the little serving girls that will be working the ball tonight. I paid her well, very well, so she will make certain the earl gets just the right glass of champagne, and of course we shall both be there to make certain she does not forget.”
Sally giggled sharply and nervously. “Wonderful, and then what—will he pass out? What if one of his friends comes to his aid? How will you manage it? How will you get him out of the ballroom? How will you get him to your coach?”
“Money is always the answer, my dear, and you do not need to know the details. I have thought it all out and have each moment prepared. After he takes his libation, it will take him a few moments to feel dizzy. I have those moments planned out for him. You shall watch it all unfold, and then you will excuse yourself and be seen getting into a coach with him. After all, the two of you are eloping, are you not?”
“Oh, my darling, it sounds perfect, completely perfect, and your immediate reward is me—you can have me anyway you want, for as long as you want,” she murmured huskily.
“Beautiful little whore, you won’t be able to move when I am done with you,” he said on a vicious note.
“Oh, oh, darling, I love when you speak to me like that …”
* * *
Lady Jersey had the Prince Regent’s ear and heart long after they ceased to be lovers, and she still used both to her advantage.
Invitations to her balls were never refused, for many reasons. The Prince’s attentions had brought her to the fore as London’s leading hostess, and only illness kept a member of the haute ton from attending any of her affairs.