Dawn at Emberwilde
Page 29
Colin took the moment to assess his captors. Bradford held a weapon. Stanway had a blade tucked in his waistband. Dent was still finding a rope.
He rubbed his cheek against the shoulder of his coat to wipe away the perspiration.
With pistol still in hand, Bradford leaned over one of the crates, pried it open, and lifted a bottle of wine.
Colin fixed his attention on the pistol. Yes, it was in Bradford’s hand, but Bradford was distracted.
Colin glanced toward the open door.
The fabric was dark, like the gowns the other foundling home workers wore, or perhaps a child.
But then another thought crossed his mind. The black fabric was the same hue that Miss Creston had been wearing when he delivered her to Heddeston Park.
The thought nearly stopped his heart.
Surely not. Surely the person inside was not Miss Creston.
But what had he told himself all along?
Desperate men were capable of anything.
Bradford lifted another bottle and assessed it. The nearby candlelight flickered on the bottle’s glass.
Something had angered Bradford, for he reached toward Stanway and grabbed his arm and ordered to know something about the crate. As a result, Stanway returned to the tunnel.
Colin pressed his eyes shut and drew a deep breath. He could handle this situation. He did not want a woman or a child harmed. He flexed his hands.
Now was the time to take advantage of the break in Bradford’s concentration.
Colin moved to stand, and as he did, the chair scooted across the wood floor, the sound shrill in the silence. Bradford whirled and his expression flamed into anger. He aimed his pistol at the same moment Colin jumped toward it and gripped Bradford’s wrist tightly with both hands.
Bradford sprang into action.
Colin attempted to wrestle the pistol from Bradford, but a fist slammed into his ribs. Colin doubled over. With every ounce of energy he had, he rammed his body into Bradford, forcing him to stumble backward against the broad desk. The pistol flew from his hand.
Stanway emerged from the tunnel, grabbed Colin’s collar, and pulled him off of Bradford, but Colin jabbed his elbow into Stanway’s belly and twisted from his grip. Gasping for air, Colin did not like his odds. Both men were larger than he. He gave a quick scan of the room. Dent’s figure was retreating into the corridor that led to the other rooms of the home.
He swung around and punched Stanway’s jaw, sending the blackguard staggering backward. The man fell to the floor, unconscious. But for how long? And how long before Dent returned? Colin drew a deep breath.
He turned back to Bradford, who by this time had regained control of the pistol. It was pointed directly at him.
Chest heaving, Colin had no choice but to raise his hands in defeat.
“I will achieve my ends, Galloway. And you will not stand in the way.” Perspiration now dripped to Bradford’s coat, leaving dark spots on the fabric. He cocked the pistol.
Seeing the moment to distract him, Colin spoke. “Who is behind that door?”
Bradford twitched. His eyes flashed to the door and back to Colin.
“There is someone in there. Who is it?” demanded Colin. Despite the gun pointed at his chest, he felt a strange surge of confidence. As he spoke, he calculated how many steps it would take to retrieve the blade at his ankle and reach Bradford.
Whoever was behind the door moved just enough to make the door creak outward, as if she wanted her presence to be made known.
Bradford looked. Colin snatched his blade and lunged, slapping the gun from Bradford’s hand and sending it clattering to the floor.
Bradford was a match for Colin. The men were of similar build. But Bradford swiftly ran out of air and energy. Colin wrapped his left arm around his opponent and squeezed and held the blade at his throat with his right hand, preventing Bradford from moving.
At that moment, McKinney and Henry burst in through the back entrance. Colin had never been so relieved to see the two men in his life. Henry gripped Dent’s arms, which were bound behind him, and McKinney had his own pistol pointed at Bradford.
McKinney adjusted his aim, and his voice slid through gritted teeth. “What’s going on in here? Looks like a bunch of nonsense to me.”
Bradford expelled the air from his mouth. His shoulders slumped. He was trapped and outnumbered, and he knew it.
McKinney kicked the pistol that had been knocked to the floor to Colin, then secured Stanway, who was still collapsed on the ground.
Colin motioned for McKinney and his cousin to lead the men out to the lawn.
McKinney carried the unresponsive Stanway outside and then returned to help with the other two. Colin followed, and once on the lawn, the men bound the three captives and sat them on the grass. Both McKinney and Henry fixed their pistols on them.
“There is someone tied inside,” Colin said. “I’ll be right back.”
Confident the smugglers were secure, Colin ran back inside to the slightly open door. He flung it open.
His fear was confirmed.
Miss Creston, bound and gagged, huddled in the corner of the tiny closet.
Tears stained her face, and her hair was hanging loosely over her shoulders. She was trembling as he reached inside to help her to her feet. Her legs were unsteady.
He opened the panel, but this one led not to a tunnel but to a closet of sorts. She stumbled as she stepped from the tiny space, and with her hands bound behind her back, she lost her balance. He caught her as she began to fall.
He quickly released the cloth around her mouth, and she coughed.
“What happened? Tell me immediately.” His words were harsh, he knew. But seeing her in such a state sent fresh anger through him. He forced himself to wait for her answer before running to the lawn and taking his frustration out on Bradford. “Did he hurt you?”
She sniffed and shook her head, regaining her balance enough to turn so he could cut her ropes with his blade. Once her hands were free, the rope fell to the ground and she rubbed her wrists.
He returned his blade to his boot and took her wrists in his own rough hands. Her skin was flaming red, and he gently rubbed a finger over the injuries. A million questions ran through his mind. He pulled her into his embrace tightly. Desperately. He never could have guessed that Bradford would mean to harm her, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized the full extent of his own feelings.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. She leaned more fully into him. Her shoulders shook. A sob escaped and she buried her face against his chest.
At length, she lifted her head from his chest. He leaned down to hear her, and her face was very near his. Her voice was raspy as she spoke. “I received a letter that one of the children was very ill and had asked for me. I did not want to disappoint the child, so I left Lizzie in the care of the servants and arrived here as soon as I could. But when I got here, the scenario was not at all what Mr. Bradford had described. He beckoned me into his office, and he was quite distraught. He spoke of time running out, and he told me how he loved me and wanted to marry me right away and how it would ruin everything if my aunt and uncle lost control of the foundling home. It made no sense. He seemed desperate, almost crazed. Of course, I refused his offer, and he grew angry and refused to let me leave. I thought he had gone mad, truly I did, and then he bound me and put me behind that door. I have never been so glad to hear a voice as I was to hear yours.”
Her words wound their way around his soul. Around his heart. He drew a deep breath and tightened his arms around her, and she did not pull away. He inhaled the scent of her hair and reveled in the warmth of her in his arms. She nestled even closer. He could lose himself in this moment very quickly, if he had not three men to deal with on the lawn.
He tilted her chin up to see her eyes. He never wanted to see them glisten with tears again. With his thumb he brushed away a tear track. “I must go see to these men. I would not leave you for the world,
but I cannot rest until I know the man who did this to you is securely restrained.”
She nodded her agreement.
He could scarcely leave her. His boots wanted to stay fixed to the floor.
Colin took a deep breath. “I will never forgive myself for allowing him to harm you.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “I swear to you, with your permission, I will spend the rest of my days keeping you safe.”
Her smile was all the encouragement he needed. He lowered his lips to hers, and she did not pull away. Instead, she wrapped her trembling arms around his neck.
She was what he had been waiting for, and now he knew what he had to do. He took her hand in his own and squeezed it. “Stay here with the children until I come back for you.”
Miss Creston nodded and slipped out of the study.
The night air was cool as he stepped outside, but anger warmed him. He looked back to the building and saw the children watching from the windows, their innocent, curious faces somber at the scene. Many offenses could be overlooked, but those that threatened the safety of women and children could not.
Colin stood over Bradford, who stared defiantly back at him.
“If it takes me until my last breath, I will see that you pay for what you have done, you have my word on that,” Colin said.
McKinney began to jerk the criminals to their feet, and Henry handed Colin a pistol. With a push, McKinney forced the men to start walking.
Colin did not take his eye off Bradford’s back until they reached Northrop’s small holding cell. He could not change what Bradford had done, nor could he change the fact that it took him awhile to put all of the pieces together. But he drew a satisfied breath. He had brought about some justice.
But what warmed him even more was to know that Miss Creston—his Isabel—was waiting for his return.
Chapter Forty-Two
As Colin approached Heddeston Park, a stable boy came to take his horse.
He was eager to check on Isabel after the previous night’s activity. She had seemed well enough when he had returned her to her home. He hoped sleep had found her and she was able to rest.
Stephenson, the butler, greeted him.
“Pleasure to see you again, Stephenson,” Colin said as he handed the man his hat. Once his hands were free, Colin brushed off the dust that had gathered on his coat on the ride over. “How is Miss Creston this morning? Is she taking visitors?”
“I shall let her know you are here.”
Stephenson showed him to the parlor, then went to notify his mistress.
While he waited, Colin assessed the room. The house was not nearly so fine as Emberwilde, but lovely in its own right. The air still smelled a bit stale, as it had been shut up for so very long. Sheets still covered furniture and paintings. The wood floors beneath his feet were highly polished and looked to be freshly cleaned. Windows stretched to the high ceiling and looked out over the Trace Lake, where Colin had spent hours fishing with Isabel’s grandfather so many years ago. Two fireplaces graced the room, one on the north wall and one on the south, and paintings of all shapes and sizes hung on the striped wallpaper.
He was studying one such painting when the door opened. He turned, and there was Isabel.
His breath suspended. The memory of their moments alone the previous night rushed him. He could only pray that her feelings were still the same as they had been in Bradford’s study.
He had grown comfortable in her company, and yet the very sight of her dislodged his sense of time and space. He felt nervous, and he never felt nervous. She smiled in his direction, and for a moment he forgot why he was here and what he was supposed to do.
She stepped into the room. She was clad in her Fellsworth gown of black, and her hair was gathered at her neck. She had never looked lovelier. Her expression was happy, her complexion dewy.
“Mr. Galloway!” she exclaimed. “I am so happy to see you.”
“I wanted to check on you and make sure you were all right. I hope I am not intruding.”
She drew a deep breath, her smile warm and intoxicating. “You could never intrude. I don’t know what I would have done if you had not come when you did.”
The door closed behind the butler, and when all was silent, Colin took several steps toward her. She did not retreat. Instead, her lovely eyes brightened, and he drew so close he could smell the scent of lavender on her skin.
Words failed him. He could barely concentrate on what to say over the wild beating of his heart. Instead, he gently reached out and took her hands in his. “And your wrists? How are they?”
“I shall recover just fine.”
There were so many things he wished to say to her, so many things he wanted to ask her, but his words seemed unorganized in her presence. “How are you settling in here?”
“It is a dream. I look around and can hardly believe this is all true.”
He smiled. She seemed genuinely happy, and her countenance seemed unaffected by the previous night’s events. He thought of her at Emberwilde, during the moments when she was distressed, as when Lizzie was lost or when she had been caught alone with Bradford in the Blue Parlor. But now she practically glowed in her new freedom.
“You can believe it,” he said, “for it is all very true, very legal. No one can take this from you.”
She drew a long, satisfied breath. “I am so glad you have come to visit, for I am not sure I have adequately expressed how grateful I am for all you have done for Lizzie and me.”
He grew uncomfortable under the praise. He released her hands. “There is no need for that.”
She stepped closer, her fingers knitted together in front of her. “Yes, there is. For you have done so much for us, both while we were at Emberwilde and also at Fellsworth, and then again last night. We are very grateful. I . . . I am very grateful.”
He did not feel worthy of her thanks. “There are no words to express my anger at what happened last night. I can only hope the incident was not too upsetting for you.”
She lifted her fair eyebrows in question. “What will happen next? To Mr. Bradford and the others, I mean?”
“They will face trial for their crimes.”
“And the foundling home? The children?”
Colin shrugged. “For now the head nurse has been given control, but a new superintendent will need to be hired. The board that governs the home will lead the search.”
Miss Creston shook her head. “This will be so very difficult for my aunt.”
Colin cleared his throat. “I have news on that front. News that I am afraid may be difficult to hear.”
Isabel’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Oh?”
“Bradford shared a bit more information last night when we took him to the cell. He could very well be trying to shift the blame, but since you were involved, you need to know the truth.”
Her face paled, and she sank onto the sofa. “What is it?”
He sat down next to her, his hand so very close to hers. “Apparently, your aunt was aware of the smuggling activity. She was not involved, but she knew of it. From what I gathered, she had arrived at the school when Bradford was meeting with the men and overheard the scheme. Instead of going to the authorities, she decided to use it to her advantage.”
Isabel drew a sharp breath but remained silent, her pale eyes fixed firmly on him.
He looked down to her hand before continuing. “She did know the details of the Heddeston inheritance long before the solicitors were able to locate you. She enlisted Bradford’s help to get you to Emberwilde. She threatened him. If he refused to help her, she would have notified her husband and the authorities of his activities. So he complied. She wanted to keep you where she could keep an eye on you, to prevent you from finding out about the inheritance.”
“Why, that is absurd!” She gave a shaky laugh of disbelief. “Surely I would have found out about it sooner or later.”
“That is true, but she was betting on the fact that you would reach the a
ge of twenty-one before that happened.”
Isabel’s lips formed a firm line.
He continued. “She began to fear that you would marry swiftly, and so she enlisted Bradford’s help to distract you. She promised him a tidy sum if he kept you occupied until your twenty-first birthday, but then Mrs. Ellison grew nervous, because she thought someone else was beginning to develop feelings for you.”
“Who was she worried about?”
“Me.”
Her face flushed the most becoming pink, and she lowered her eyes.
He moved his hand so that it brushed hers ever so gently before taking her fingers in his own. Fire ignited at the simplest touch. “She was right. By that time, you had captivated me. All that prompted Bradford to propose. Your refusal, combined with the fact that we were so close to figuring out the smuggling operation, sent their plans crumbling. When your uncle shared that he was considering selling the school property, that was the final straw for Bradford.”
Isabel shook her head slowly. “I can’t believe it. My own aunt.”
“Your aunt bears some blame, but not all. Bradford always has been a master at manipulating the opinions and feelings of others, and I suppose he saw Mrs. Ellison as an easy target. Bradford knew about the tunnels, and if I had to guess, I would say that he targeted that building years ago, knowing it would be perfect for the smuggling operation. The home was a cover, I am afraid.”
“Those poor children,” Miss Creston whispered.
“They will be far better off now.”
“But what if Uncle sells the property?” Miss Creston shook her head.
“In light of the recent realizations about the tunnels, I do not think your uncle will be selling that piece of land anytime soon, or at least not until this is all figured out.”
He studied the toes of his boots before once again meeting Isabel’s eyes. He softened his tone. “I am sorry, Isabel, for the injustices you experienced, not only at Bradford’s hand, but also while at the Ellisons’. Had I known, had I even suspected, I would have intervened.”
She pressed her lips together, no doubt at the memories. “It is no one’s fault but my own. Nothing is without a price. But I did learn a great many lessons while there, Colin, so I do not regret it, not in the least.”