by Anne Herries
‘I visited before I left for London. I was sure you would be anxious for news of her.’
‘Yes, I am glad to know she is recovering,’ Jane said. ‘Being abducted is alarming, though I was fortunate.’
‘Mariah was drugged for a lot of the time. Lucinda confided to me that Mariah has told her a little more of her ordeal. Apparently, she screamed and fought her captors so violently that Blake forced her to drink something to keep her quiet. You were more fortunate, Jane.’
‘Yes, indeed, for I had help. Mariah’s fate might well have been mine had Lord George not been there to help me.’
Andrew fixed her with a hard stare. ‘I must repeat my warning, Jane. I will not consider any type of a relationship between you and Lord George.’
‘Yes, I see that,’ Jane said quietly. She lifted her head, keeping the pain his words had caused hidden. ‘Excuse me, I must go and change. We have an appointment this afternoon.’
Jane’s head was high as she left the parlour, but inside she was weeping. Andrew thought he was in the right but he could not know that her heart was already engaged.
* * *
Blake’s Devonshire house was in darkness when George reached it. It appeared empty and, from various signs of neglect in the grounds, he guessed that it must have been closed for some months. He could not know if Blake kept a caretaker in residence, but, after checking both the front, back and sides of what was a modest country estate, he believed there was no one in the property.
Until Verity had told him of Blake’s love nest, he had not known of its existence and he had great hopes of finding his sister’s letters before the night was through.
His search had told him that no windows or doors had been left carelessly open. The only way he could gain entrance was by breaking a window. He would be breaking the law, a serious offence, which could carry a prison sentence if he were caught. However, he had no choice for he could see no other way of discovering his sister’s letters.
He took a pistol from his pocket and gave a pane of glass a sharp tap. Pushing the window through with a gloved fist, he found the catch and opened it. The space was just large enough for him to squeeze through.
Looking about him, he discovered that he was in a small parlour, which was still furnished with pretty items that might please a lady. The idea that Blake had brought other young women here, perhaps to seduce and blackmail them, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He must have been mad to have had anything to do with the villain—and Verity must wish she had never met him.
The thought of his sister’s anguish spurred him on and he lit a candle with the tinderbox he carried in his pocket. It was a risk because the light would show in the windows and might warn a caretaker who lived in a cottage nearby or even Blake if he were in hiding here.
Where would Blake be likely to hide letters and personal items? George approached a small desk standing near the window. It had one long drawer at the top and three down either side, its writing surface covered in green leather. He opened the top drawer and found several papers, all of which appeared to be unpaid bills, some of them recent. His pulses quickened, because it was clear that Blake had been here recently. A search of the other drawers revealed more bills. It was obvious why Blake had resorted to villainy. He must be quite desperate. If he dared to show his face in London, he would probably be arrested for debt and sent to prison.
Desperate men were dangerous. George knew he must work quickly. He went from room to room, searching chests of drawers, sideboards, desks and anything that looked as if it might conceal papers or intimate items. He was quick, but thorough. By the time he reached the library he was beginning to wonder if the letters still existed. Blake had certainly not been careless with them.
The library had shelves on every wall, which were filled with leather-bound books—books that looked as if they had never been read. To move and open all the books would take hours. He did not have that much time. Every minute he spent here the danger that someone might come grew stronger. It was sacrilege, but George knew he had no choice. He moved along the shelves pulling all the books down, several at a time, and letting them fall to the floor.
Many of them opened, but no letters fell out from between the pages. It looked as if he might go away empty handed. There was but one shelf left to empty. He took hold of a book and knew immediately it was different—not a row of books at all, but a container meant to look like five books. In fact, it was a box and by the feel of it there were several items inside. George sought and found the catch. Inside were three bundles of letters, a silk scarf and a kerchief with his sister’s initials. A further search did not reveal the brooch Blake had promised to have mended for Verity.
At least he had the letters. George thrust them inside his coat. He was wondering whether he should stop to replace the books when he heard a noise. Someone was in the house! Either the caretaker had come to investigate or Blake had arrived. There was no time to repair the damage he had done in the library. He must leave immediately.
George blew out the candle and went to the long windows that let so much light into the large room. He unfastened the catch and scrambled through just as someone entered the library through the door.
‘What the devil! Damnation…come back, you rogue!’
George recognised Blake’s voice even as he jumped to the ground and started to run. Moments later, Blake appeared in the window and a shot was fired. The ball passed through George’s coat, scraping his left shoulder, but not piercing the flesh. He ignored the stinging sensation and ran towards the sheltered spot where he had tethered his horse.
Blake fired again but George was now far enough away for the shot to fall short. He was breathing hard, the adrenalin pumping when he mounted and rode away. Luck had been with him. He had Verity’s letters and her kerchief. The brooch was missing, but she could surely come up with some excuse for its loss.
George’s heart was thudding in his chest as his horse responded to his urgency and they raced away, yet he had a sense of elation. Verity was safe. Now at last, he could do the right thing and go to the magistrates to lay a charge of kidnap and assault against Blake.
* * *
‘I can never thank you enough,’ Verity said as she pounced on her letters and the kerchief. ‘They are all here, everything except the brooch.’
‘It was not with the other things,’ George said. ‘I searched the whole house, Verity. It is my opinion that the rogue sold it.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ She looked doubtful. ‘It was something I was quite fond of. Markham gave it to me when we were first wed. However, you have done more than I could have expected.’ She took hold of his arm to give him a hug, bringing a wince of pain from his lips. ‘What is wrong—have you hurt your arm?’
‘Blake returned as I was searching the library. I had left it until the last and he was in the house before I realised. I escaped through the window, but he got off a shot that just winged me. It is but a scratch, Verity, though a little sore.’
‘Forgive me.’ Tears stung her eyes. ‘You have saved my marriage—and me from ruin. I am so grateful, dearest George. Your poor arm—it is all my fault.’
‘I am glad to have brought the matter to a close as far as you are concerned,’ George said and smiled at her, feeling warm affection. ‘Now I must do something I should have done sooner.’
Verity looked up at him. ‘You will not go to a magistrate? No, George, think of the scandal. They will want to know why you agreed—and all your trouble will be for nothing.’
‘It will be my disgrace, not yours. You must disown me if need be. I have to do this, Verity. The man is a scoundrel. Yours were not the only letters I found—there were some belonging to another married lady. I happen to know her address and I have returned them to her. If Blake is not stopped, he will continue his evil work. Other women will be blackmailed and another innocent girl may be abducted.’
‘But you will be ruined if you confess your part in the affair.’
‘It is a chance I must take. There are mitigating circumstances. I must hope that Lord Lanchester will testify to my rescuing his sister and Lady Fanshawe. Besides, honour demands that I take my punishment.’
‘Please do not risk everything for the sake of honour, George.’
‘I must do this,’ he replied, his mouth set hard. His manner at that moment was arrogant and proud. ‘It is important to me. I have to redeem myself in Miss Lanchester’s eyes. I know there is no chance of a relationship between us—but I want her to think well of me.’
‘She means so much to you?’
‘Yes, she does.’
Verity’s eyes misted with tears. ‘In saving me you have ruined your own life. Forgive me.’
‘There is nothing to forgive,’ George said and touched her hand. ‘You mean a great deal to me, Verity. I made a mistake in trusting Blake’s word. In my arrogance I thought I could rescue the lady with none the wiser, but I was wrong. I can only hope that when my trial comes that will be taken into consideration.’
‘I am sure Miss Lanchester would not wish you to make such a sacrifice just to gain her good opinion.’
‘Nothing you can say will change my mind.’ George bent his head to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Be happy, Verity. Forgive Markham for his lapse and make it up with him for your own sake. I believe he cares for you.’
‘Perhaps.’ Verity’s face was pale as she gazed up at him. ‘I shall never forget what you did for me.’
‘Do not blame yourself. What I do I do for my own satisfaction—because I could not live with myself if I hid the truth.’
* * *
Jane was sitting in the front parlour alone the next morning. It was early and Lady Mary had not yet risen from her bed when the visitor was announced. She rose to her feet. She felt oddly nervous, for she hardly knew Lady Markham and would not have expected a visit this early in the morning.
‘Miss Lanchester, forgive me,’ Lady Markham said as she entered and put up the heavy veiling that covered her pretty face. It was obvious that she had been crying. ‘I had to come to you. I do not know what else to do.’
‘Something is wrong—your husband?’
‘Markham knows nothing yet. George found my letters for me and restored them to me. That despicable rogue fired at him and he was slightly wounded in the shoulder…’
‘Lord George is hurt?’ Jane was immediately alarmed. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘He says it is nothing but a scratch,’ Lady Markham said. ‘It is not his wound that worries me. He went to a magistrate and told them the whole—oh, not about my letters. He promised to keep my name out of it, but the abduction of Lady Fanshawe and your own person—and his part in it.’
‘No! That was so unnecessary,’ Jane cried and sat down as her legs seemed to go from under her. ‘Mariah is recovering well and you have your letters—why would he do such a thing?’
‘For the sake of his honour as a gentleman—and your good opinion, Miss Lanchester.’
‘The foolish man…’ Jane’s throat closed. Would he do so much for her? ‘He should not have…for my sake. It is too much. Do you know what has happened?’
‘He was able to send me a note, asking me to employ a lawyer for him. He is in Newgate prison, though not in the common rooms. George took some money with him when he made his confession and he has paid for easement.’
‘We must be grateful for that,’ Jane replied. ‘Have you contacted his lawyer?’
‘I stopped on my way here and handed in a letter, but I can do no more. If my husband learns of this…’ She shook her head. ‘I am not certain what he would say—or think. George told me that your brother might speak for him. When do you expect him?’
‘He is in town at the moment,’ Jane said. ‘I believe he went in search of Lord George this morning. He meant to visit some of the clubs and discover his lodgings.’
‘Will you speak to him? My brother has ruined himself for me and I cannot forgive myself for asking him to help me.’
‘I am sure that it is no such thing. Lord George did what he thought right. Please do not distress yourself. I shall speak to my brother as soon as he returns.’
‘Then I must leave you, for I was meant to go down to the country with my husband today. How can I leave London when George is in trouble?’
‘You should behave as normal,’ Jane said and stood up as the shock receded and her head cleared. ‘Perhaps this can be settled without too much scandal. Leave it to me, Lady Markham. I shall do what I can to help your brother. I owe him my life. I shall remind my brother of that when he returns and beg him to help Lord George.’
‘Thank you so much.’ Lady Markham was clearly relieved. ‘If you will help him, I can leave with a clear conscience.’
Jane assured her she would do all she could and the lady went away. Pacing the floor, Jane decided that she would visit Lord George at the prison before speaking to her brother. Andrew was likely to be gone for most of the day and Jane would not rest if she did nothing but sit at home. Besides, it would be best if she knew the whole rather than giving Andrew half the story.
Chapter Seven
Jane had chosen a plain dress and donned a dark cloak with a hood. Passing a fruit seller on her way to the notorious prison, she had purchased some oranges; she had also brought bread and a meat pie from the kitchens at Lady Mary’s house. Lord George would soon run through the money he’d carried in his pockets if he had to pay for food to be brought in, and though his lawyer could supply him with more, she felt some relief in being able to bring him some comforts.
Outside the prison she paused, glancing up at its forbidding walls and the stout gate. Had Lord George been imprisoned for debt it would not have been quite so bad, for she knew that debtors were treated quite well and their families were able to visit every day, some choosing to live there with the prisoner, free to come and go as they pleased. Newgate was rather different to the Fleet.
She rang the bell outside. A small opening appeared at the top of the gate as a panel slid across and a face peered out at her.
‘State yer business, miss.’
‘I have come to visit one of the prisoners,’ Jane said, raising her head proudly. ‘Lord George Marlowe. He was brought here yesterday, to await trial, I believe.’
‘Yeah, he be here. I suppose yer can come in fer a short visit. What have yer got in the basket?’
‘Food,’ Jane said and offered the basket, hiding her feelings as he rifled the through the food with his grimy hands and took an orange. She slipped her hand in her pocket and took out a shilling, holding it out to him. ‘For your trouble, sir.’
He nodded, took the coin and bit it, then slipped it into his coat pocket. ‘I’ll take yer to him, but yer can only stay fer ten minutes.’
‘Thank you. You are most kind.’
Jane followed through the courtyard. There were various buildings on both sides and some men and women were walking in the yard. They all looked slightly dirty and unkempt, and she realised these must be favoured inmates who had been allowed to come out for some air. Three of the men were wearing irons on their legs.
Pray God that Lord George had not been subjected to such barbarous treatment!
Jane’s throat tightened as they went into the main building. The air inside was fetid and she had to hold her breath for a moment to keep herself from feeling sick. What a terrible place this was! She was distressed that George should have been brought to this merely through a need to clear himself in her eyes. The foolish man. There had been no need to do such a thing for her sake.
She had not been mistaken in him. He was as honourable, kind and generous as she had thought him when they were escaping.
The gaoler led her past rows of cells where prisoners were herded together, both men and women, all in large cells without a stick of furniture between them. A shudder went through her as she wondered how they slept or ate—or performed any other bodily function. The smell was quite appalling.
>
As he led her up some stairs to what seemed a better part of the prison, the air cleared a little and Jane was able to breathe more easily. She was relieved that Lord George was not being kept in the pens downstairs. No farmer worth his salt would keep animals in such conditions. It was wicked, wicked! Jane’s eyes stung with tears she must not allow to fall.
When the gaoler stopped outside a wooden door with a grille in the top her pulses raced. He took a key from a large ring at his waist and opened the door.
‘Ten minutes. I’ll be waiting out here—no funny business.’
‘Thank you.’ Jane’s face flamed as she saw the leer on his mouth. Did he imagine she was Lord George’s mistress? Was he warning her that she must not lie with her lover? It would not be surprising that what she was doing would be thought scandalous by most of the ladies she knew. ‘You are most generous, sir.’
Lord George was standing with his back towards her as she entered, but turned with an exclamation of shock as he saw her.
‘Jane! Miss Lanchester—are you mad? You should not be here. You must leave at once.’
‘I have only ten minutes. Forgive me, I had to come when I learned you were here, sir. Why did you do such a foolish thing? I should never have demanded such a sacrifice of you. You must have known that?’
‘Would you not?’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I found that I could not live with myself, Miss Lanchester. I was in large part at fault for what happened to you—and to Lady Fanshawe. Besides, Blake must be brought to justice or others may suffer. I have made a clean breast of the whole and will hope to be acquitted of evil intent.’
‘Yes, I agree that Blake must be caught and punished—but could you not have brought a case against him without involving yourself?’
‘If he is taken, he will name me—and he will try to bring me down to his level. I hoped that I might be listened to with some sympathy, but, as you see, I am here.’
Jane placed her basket on the table and moved towards him. ‘I have brought some food. Is there anything more I can do for you? Have you received a visit from your lawyer?’