Lord Phillip's Folly

by Susan M. Baganz

  The next morning, they were on the road early. They were getting closer to Ipswich. They stopped at another inn to warm up, change horses, and give the driver a chance to recover from the elements. Walking into the public room three men stood.

  “Mrs. Westcombe? What brings you here?” Sir Tidley asked.

  “Perhaps this conversation should be had in private?” Lord Harrow said and went to speak to the innkeeper.

  “Mrs. Westcombe, let me introduce you to Mr. Neville. He’s a Bow Street Runner we’ve used in the past to help us,” Sir Tidley said.

  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Westcombe.” Mr. Neville nodded to her. Soon they were ushered into a private parlour and food brought in.

  Beth sat and the men followed suit.

  The door closed and Sir Tidley asked his question again. “Beth, why are you here? Our understanding is you were at Follett Hall and Phillip had gone to rescue you.”

  She sighed. “I take it none of you got my missive asking for assistance in rescuing Phillip?”

  “We did not. We received Phillip’s request to help save you,” Theo stated.

  “Sounds like Wolton finally decided to strike and tricked both of you to coming there.” Michael cleared his throat. “Marcus was unable to join us. Josie’s due to have her baby any day and he needs to be by her side.”

  Beth fought off the sting of disappointment while placing a hand on her own swelling stomach. The men graciously avoided commenting. Something moved under her hand. Tears threatened and she sucked in a breath. Surely, she was going mad. Be brave. Phillip needs me. He will be better off without me given the direction I’m headed. She straightened up, resolve taking over. “We need a plan to save Phillip. We talked months ago about using me as a lure to draw out Lord Wolton, but Follett Hall is a difficult place to wage a rescue.”

  “You are well acquainted with the property, ma’am?” Neville asked.

  “I am. Perhaps we can map out the house and the dungeons. I suspect Phillip is being kept in the lower dungeon.” She paused and placed a hand over her eyes, sudden grief at what Phillip might be experiencing at the hands of Lord Wolton threatening to overwhelm her.

  “What kind of danger is he in, Beth?” Michael inquired gently.

  “He is likely bound, held in a dark room. The worst would be if he is being tortured.” Tears escaped. Theodore offered her a handkerchief but she waved him off and reached for her own, the one Phillip had given her so many months ago, freshly laundered and pressed. “Ask the innkeeper for paper and ink and I’ll draw a map. Wolton is expecting me to arrive and we would not want to disappoint him. However, he is not expecting the three of you so we need a plan.” She expected the men to argue her involvement but none did.

  They fetched the articles requested.

  She proceeded to draw her maps and instruct them on what to expect at various parts of the property. When she was finished, she slumped. Fatigue weighed her down and her back ached.

  Sir Tidley came to her rescue. “We all need to rest. We won’t manage anything else today. I’ll arrange for rooms for the night here. We’re only a few hours out of Ipswich, we can execute our plan tomorrow.”

  Beth nodded and allowed them to care for her. Theo escorted her to her room where Elsa awaited. Once she was ready and her maid left she collapsed into bed. Thank you, Lord for providing friends to help. Grant us success tomorrow and keep Phillip in Your care until then. Peace flowed over her. For the first time in days, she slept.

  ~*~

  Michael paced the room, periodically looking at the map Beth had drawn for them.

  “I’m not comfortable putting Mrs. Westcombe into the middle of this,” Mr. Neville said.

  “We thought she’d lost the baby, but she’s obviously large with child. We need to be even more careful. We cannot fail Phillip by putting her in any danger,” Michael stated.

  “If Wolton is as evil as she claims, I doubt there is any way to guarantee the safety of anyone in this venture.” Theodore sipped some wine. “Even if she were not with child, Phillip would be devastated if anything happened to her. She has become everything to him.”

  “With the exception of God,” Michael said.

  “God?” Mr. Neville asked.

  “Both he and Elizabeth have a relationship with Jesus Christ. I don’t understand it myself but Marcus and Josie have that too. They had talked that this battle was spiritual, not just physical. There are satanic forces at work and the four of them stated this battle is not only against, how did they put it? Not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces in the heavens.” Michael sighed.

  The words hung for a moment before Mr. Neville spoke. “I have worked the dives in London long enough to know that what they are saying is true. I’m not sure about who Jesus is, but to be honest, what lies ahead terrifies me more than the darkest stews of Seven Dials. Maybe we should be praying ourselves.”

  “Are you a believer as well, Mr. Neville?” asked Theodore.

  “I’ve never considered myself one, but there are times, like this, when I’m forced to reconsider my position in light of greater truths.” Mr. Neville rose. “I’m headed to my room. I have some business to do with God before we step into this rescue tomorrow. I will see you in the morning. Hopefully, we will all have a clearer idea of how to proceed and keep Mrs. Westcombe safe.” With that, the Bow Street Runner departed, leaving the two friends alone.

  Michael lifted a glass of wine to his lips and sipped. “So, Theo. What do you think of all this spiritual talk?” The talk made him uneasy. He didn’t doubt there was evil, just that God could help them through it. Or more importantly, would help him.

  “My family always attended church. I support a parish. I believe in God. But what Marcus and Phillip have is more—personal than that. They are as devoted to Jesus as they are to their wives, or their friends. Perhaps even more so.”

  Michael sighed. “Marcus has talked of this many times, about Jesus and his love for Him. He’s never pushed his faith on us which I’ve always appreciated. But now, Phillip and Beth? Is it contagious?”

  “Consider this, Michael. We weren’t forced to accept Josie or Beth as friends. I love them as sisters because of my affection for Marcus and Phillip. I would do anything to ensure their safety. Relationships, the important ones you’d risk everything for, can’t be forced on someone—they grow in the heart.”

  “Is your heart growing toward a relationship with Jesus?”

  Theo shrugged. “The more I understand about God, the real person of Jesus, and not the cold impersonal version of God I learned in my youth, the more I desire to know. I’m not ready to commit myself to it like they have.”

  “I’m not sure Jesus would have me, Theo. Relationships go both ways, don’t they?”

  “It takes time to get close to someone. Perhaps it’s the same with God?”

  “Possibly.”

  “I’m for bed. Maybe I’ll take a look at the Bible Marcus gave me years ago. For some reason, I always seem to carry it with me when I travel.”

  Michael rose, setting his glass on the table. “I have a small one as well.” He patted his pocket. “Interesting that we both brought them to a spiritual battle in spite of our doubts. I don’t understand all of that.”

  “Perhaps understanding is not as necessary as trusting God.”

  “You could be right.” Michael followed his friend out of the room, questions tumbling through his mind even as he tried to sleep. God? If You really do care, please protect Phillip and Beth.

  ~*~

  Phillip rolled to his other side as his arm grew numb underneath him. There was no comfortable position to be had. Water dripped and rats scurried somewhere. He recalled Beth talking about being tied up and put in a closet for days before being molested by Wolton and others. Fury erupted within to give him the will to survive. He’d forgiven Lord Follett for his negligence as a father, but Wolton was evil personified.

  He struggled to his f
eet, walked to the door and around the room. He was trying to conserve strength but he needed to move to keep from being stiff. He didn’t want to be unable to fight if the need came for it. The stone walls were damp. The room was huge and a large table sat in the middle. He found a chair. His foot pulled it out from the table enough that he could sit down on it backward. He was able to lean forward and rest his head. He kept trying to work his arms free but the rope dug into his skin, rubbing his wrists raw. Finally, he slept, dreaming of better days with Beth. He prayed even as he slept that she would not be lured to her death as he obviously had been.

  ~*~

  Beth woke with a start. Her hand went to her abdomen and the swelling there. Heaviness overtook her body and soul. Lord, please remove the madness that has overtaken me. She rose and paced by the fireplace. She stopped to pick up her Bible, hoping God would find some comfort for her as she faced this day.

  Thou will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee: because he trusteth in Thee.

  Peace, yes. Peace was what she needed as she headed into this evil. She prayed for peace and success in rescuing Phillip from certain death. She wept over the scripture in prayer as she prayed it back to God.

  Elsa soon came to assist her with her gown.

  Today Beth chose a serviceable green wool gown. It was warm and she instinctively realized she might need a dark color to survive this day. She was joined in the breakfast parlour by Theo, Michael, and Mr. Nigel Neville. After the food was brought in by the waitress, they heard a knock.

  Fenway entered. “Pardon me.”

  “What is it, Fenway?” Beth asked.

  “I would like to join you today in rescuing Lord Westcombe.”

  “Your devotion to your master does you credit, Fenway. Neither he, nor I, expect you to make such a sacrifice. I need you at the Red Rooster in Ipswich, awaiting his return. We don’t know if he’s been injured and he may need your care and assistance then. “

  Fenway frowned and shuffled his feet.

  Mr. Neville chimed in. “It would serve us better to have you at the inn. I have requested several men from London to join us and they may arrive while we are gone. You can help them understand the layout of the property and our plans so they can ascertain how best to assist us. Won’t you sit with us as we discuss it?”

  Fenway joined them and Beth went over the layout of the house, its entrances and potential avenues of escape. As a group, they strategized their plan.

  “Elizabeth, I am not comfortable with your part of this,” Michael protested.

  “I understand. This entire problem is because of me. Phillip would not be where he is today if he hadn’t helped me escape marriage to Wolton. I will not sit by in comfort without doing something to free him.”

  “But if something were to happen to you…” Theo said.

  Beth lifted sad eyes to Theo and Michael. “He has the best of friends and family. He deserves the opportunity to enjoy them for a long time to come. I will do anything in my power to ensure that happens.”

  Michael’s eyes grew wide, he opened his mouth, shook his head, and said nothing. Closing his jaw, he dropped his gaze and nodded.

  “But—” Theo was elbowed by Michael.

  “We should pray before we depart,” Beth said. The men bowed their heads and prayed. “Lord, only with Your help can we have victory today. Protect Phillip and his friends as we seek to rescue him. Give us favor and success. Defeat our enemies, Lord, and bring this evil to an end.”

  Michael assisted her into the carriage. “Have a care, Beth. We all love you as well as Phillip. Please do not take any foolish chances today.”

  Beth squeezed his hand. “Phillip is blessed in his friends. Thank you for your help, Michael. God bless.”

  The door shut, the men mounted up, and soon they were off to Ipswich. They arrived at the Red Rooster a few hours later and discovered Phillip had been there days earlier. Luggage was deposited and rooms paid for.

  Lord Harrow, Sir Tidley and Mr. Neville departed on horseback to circle around the property and await Elizabeth’s arrival.

  Storm clouds hung in the distance. This was it. She would do whatever it took to save Phillip. She bit back the tears. Her husband needed her. He’d traveled all this way for her. She had much to repent of. If her debt was paid with her life it was only as it should be. She’d left a note with Elsa to deliver to Phillip should she not return alive. She very much doubted she would. She’d been very clear with the men that Phillip was to be saved at all costs and to not come for her until that was accomplished.

  Entering the lane to the house was a strange experience. This had been her home, but she’d rarely left it or seen it from this perspective. The fields were filled with weeds and the pitted road jostled her and the carriage without mercy. The dilapidated house appeared to be uninhabited but for a small wisp of smoke rising from the kitchen chimney. She left this home in the spring hoping to never return. She praised and thanked God for rescuing her and bringing Phillip into her life. Save him, Lord. Take me if You must. Give me courage to face Wolton.

  The carriage pulled up in front of the house. She doubted any staff was available to answer the door. The footman helped her down and she straightened her spine, inhaling deeply before taking the steps. She didn’t need to be afraid, but her pulse raced. She wasn’t returning as a victim but as a child of the King of kings. She’d never needed to put her faith to the test like this. Lord, glory and honor be Yours today. Grant me strength.

  The roof looked rotted and likely to collapse. Everything was wet. She was grateful for her muff to help warm her. She knocked on the door.

  The worn wood swung open and there stood her father. Filthy and unkempt. His beard carried mementos of his last meals, most likely alcohol. They stared at each other.

  “Lizzy. Leave. You shouldn’t be here.” He tried to shut the door on her.

  She stopped him and stepped into the hall. “I’ve come for my husband. I assume you’ve seen him.”

  His eyes grew wide and his shoulders slumped further. He frowned and shook his head. “Just leave, Lizzy. There’s naught you can do.”

  “Father, you did not perpetrate this evil. Trust me and grant assistance. More than that, trust God.”

  “No. It is too late for God, Lizzy. Please. I could not save you when you were younger, but I might save you now. Please. Leave.”

  “I refuse to leave without my husband. He is here.”

  “You are well informed, Mrs. Westcombe.” Lord Wolton emerged from the far end of the corridor. “You made good time in your arrival in spite of the weather and the state of the roads. You wisely chose to come unattended.” Lord Wolton walked toward her, coming around to face her.

  Standing before her, face red and bloated, eyes glassy, she repressed the shudder of fear that threatened to ripple through her.

  His hand reached up to grasp her jaw and hold her firm. “Finally. I will have what I was promised months ago. You. Will. Be. Mine.”

  His breath almost caused her to lose her last meal. The thought of vomiting on this villain gave her perverse delight. He tried to pull her to himself for a kiss but she managed to resist him and tug free from his grasp.

  He missed her lips and kissed her ear instead.

  Elizabeth steeled herself. She would not recoil at his touch although her body argued the matter. Her ability to manage this man could mean the difference between life or death for Phillip.

  “I believe the correct etiquette would be to show me to the drawing room. Preferably with a fire. I am, after all, a visitor here and it is quite cold outside. Once I am fortified with a cup of tea, perhaps you and I can arrive at some sort of understanding.”

  Lord Wolton dropped his hand and took a step back. “Folly, go fetch some tea while I entertain your lovely daughter.”

  Lord Follett didn’t move.

  “Father. You may go. I truly do wish for a bracing cup of tea.” She swept past both men, walked down the hallway to
the drawing room, entered, and awaited Lord Wolton, who wasted no time in joining her.

  The door shut behind him and the key scraped in the lock. That didn’t surprise her. She turned to Wolton. Lord, lead me. Give me the right words. She needed to buy time for the men to free Phillip. The longer she kept Wolton busy, the better the chances that Phillip might come out of this alive.

  She turned to face her foe. “Lord Wolton, would you please tell me what you’ve done with my husband?”

  ~*~

  “Concerned for him, are you?” he sneered. He walked around the furniture in the room, keeping an eye on her. Arriving at the window, he drew back the moth-eaten drapes to peek outside. No movement. She’d come alone but that didn’t mean others weren’t around. He patted his pocket where the bloodied fabric from her clothing resided. The material had been his comfort in the wait. Now his prey was here, in the flesh.

  And a lot more flesh from the swell at her waist. A bonus. Destroy the lord, master the woman, and crush the child. His day had grown incredibly brighter. He grinned.

  Tossing her muff on the chair, Lizzy went to the fireplace to put some kindling in and reached for a flint to start the flame. As it raged to life, she held out her gloved hands to the blaze.

  She appeared unaffected by him but he knew her better. She was terrified. She always had been. There was nothing more exciting than watching her shiver in fear before him.

  “My husband?”

  “He lives.”

  “Your plans for him?”

  He admired her cool reserve in facing him as she did. She’d matured. It would be all the more enjoyable to break her.

  “I intend to slowly torture him, make him watch you and I consummate our marriage, before he dies a miserable death. He will beg to die before I finish him off.”

  “Has he been fed? Given water?”

  “No. Why?”

  “It would not serve you well to have him passing out from hunger or thirst and missing out on the fun you’ve planned for yourself.”