“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have recalled.”
“Will you end your relationship with her?” Elliot asked, ignoring the comment.
Furious, Simon squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. “No.”
Elliot held his gaze for a moment as if assessing his seriousness. Eventually, he took a step back. “Very well. I’ll see myself out.”
“Will I see you later tonight?”
“Will Miss Strong be there?”
“She will,” Simon said.
“In that case I must decline.”
Simon gnashed his teeth in frustration and waited until his uncle was gone before he expelled the breath he’d been holding. Christ. He’d forgotten to ask Elliot about his investment in the Shadwell Gun Works. His absence from Town aside, there was still a good chance his uncle was the one who’d betrayed Matthew, after all. Certainly, his determination to get rid of Ida and stop the investigation was cause for alarm.
Simon’s heart thumped. Right now, he had to prepare for the evening ahead.
Returning to his study, he opened a cabinet only he had the key to, unlocked it, and pulled out a box. As soon as he’d found the gold ring adorned with a prominent aquamarine and diamonds that matched the necklace he’d already given Ida, he put the box away and prepared to head over to Windham House.
“My lord?” Winthorp said, approaching Simon in the foyer. “Everyone you’ve invited has confirmed they will be there. Except your uncle.”
“Thank you, Winthorp.” Simon turned to Deerford. “I will leave you to make sure the kitchen is ready. With everyone arriving at seven, I expect we will dine at eight.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Donning his hat and gloves, Simon walked the short distance to Guthrie’s house.
“His Grace is not at home at the moment.”
Simon’s heart dropped. “Do you know when he might be expected?”
“Within the hour, I should think.” Simon pondered what to do. It was just after four. The guests weren’t due to arrive until seven, and it wouldn’t take too long for him to get ready. “Perhaps I can wait for him in the parlor?”
The butler raised an eyebrow, appeared to consider the matter briefly, and finally stepped aside to grant Simon entry. Simon handed over his hat and gloves and was swiftly shown into the parlor. A tea tray was brought in. Simon lowered himself onto the sofa and hoped it wouldn’t be too long before Guthrie arrived. He eyed the tea service and stood. A nervous kind of energy bubbled inside him. He paced the floor, returned to his seat, poured a cup of tea, and tried to relax. He glanced at the clock. The hands were barely moving. With a sigh he got up again, went to the window, and looked out onto the street.
What the devil was taking Guthrie so long?
Simon turned and was just about to resume his seat once more when he heard a noise – the distinct sound of the front door opening and closing followed by muted voices. And then the parlor door finally opened and Guthrie appeared.
“Fielding.” His voice was even. “What brings you here?”
“Ida is fine,” Simon felt compelled to say since the man looked like he was trying to decide how to treat his visit. “There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you before tonight’s dinner.”
Guthrie nodded, stepped further into the room, and shut the door. He glanced at the tea tray with a hint of disdain. “Would you rather a brandy?”
“Please.” The fortification would probably serve him well.
Guthrie filled two snifters and handed one to Simon. “So?”
Simon cleared his throat and held Guthrie’s gaze with every intention of proving just how determined he was in his goal. “Since Matthew Strong no longer lives and you’ve taken on something of a paternal role with regard to Ida, I thought I’d come to you. To ask for her hand in marriage.”
He wanted everything to be right this time. He needed to make sure that when he asked her, there would be no impediment to her accepting his proposal. Tonight, he would prove he loved her enough to deserve her – enough for her to put any lingering fears she had to rest – enough for her never to doubt he was making the right decision by choosing her as his wife.
The edge of Guthrie’s mouth slowly lifted until his expression turned into a smile. “I’m pleased. Very pleased indeed. And you have my blessing.”
“I do?” That was it? This was what he’d been dreading?
“As long as you swear to me you’ll make her happy.”
“Of course.”
“Excellent.” Guthrie smirked. “Because if you don’t, I will have to break your legs. A toast?”
Simon nodded and drank while wondering if the duke was serious about potentially causing him harm. Probably, considering the man’s history of violence.
A pause followed and then Guthrie said, “Regarding this business with her father. You should know, based on what I have uncovered so far, there’s a good chance your uncle was involved in the accusations made against him. According to the men I’ve spoken with, he was seen giving money to Harold on at least two occasions.”
A prickly sensation filled Simon with discomfort. While he was gradually reaching the same conclusion, he wasn’t quite ready to stop considering other options. “What about Mr. St. John? Your note suggested some of the testimonies you’d received had prompted you to look into him?”
“One of the men I spoke with said Princhet brought a brand new pocket watch to work with him the day before he broke into your house. It would have taken him months to save up for it with his regular wages, and my source claims he wasn’t the sort of man who put money aside for later. That same day, Princhet and Mr. St. John had a heated argument. It could have been work related, but it might also have had something to do with a lack of discretion on Princhet’s part. I’ve put two informants on it, so I’m hoping I’ll know more tomorrow.” Guthrie eyed Simon with unnerving consideration. “What I’m curious to know is whether or not you’re prepared to press charges against your uncle if it turns out he had a hand in what happened.”
“Yes.” Simon held Guthrie’s gaze. “As you can imagine, I hope it won’t be him, but I am prepared to see him punished if need be.”
“I must say, I don’t misjudge people often, but you are starting to prove yourself a much better man than I’d ever have thought possible.” His eyes glinted with hidden depths of knowledge. “Ida is lucky to have you.”
Simon thanked him and finished his drink, then took his leave.
Excitement buzzed through him, quickening his stride with the need to return home as swiftly as possible so he could prepare for the evening ahead. With Guthrie’s blessing secured, only one thing remained – Ida’s agreement. And she would say yes. Of course she would. How could she not once he told her he loved her in front of everyone who’d thought less of her and those who’d doubted he had the courage to do right by her? He would declare himself in front of the Warwicks, the Huntleys, and the Windhams. He’d ask her to be his wife while the Elmwoods and Kirksdales watched. And he’d do so without caring what they might think because all that mattered was winning her hand.
His heart started pounding with nervous trepidation. Soon. Just a few more hours to go and the world that had been so off balance since she’d told him she wouldn’t be his mistress would once again feel comfortable and right.
Secure in this knowledge, he climbed the steps to his house and was seconds away from placing his key in the lock when the door burst open and Miranda, wide eyed and red faced, almost barreled straight into him.
“My lord,” she gasped. “Thank God you’re here.”
Simon’s heart immediately stumbled. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“It’s Miss Strong, my lord. The chief magistrate came to the house with runners. They want to take her away, so I came to find you as quick as—”
Simon didn’t wait to listen to anything else the maid had to say. He took off running, racing through the streets connecting the tw
o houses until he spotted the one where he and Ida had been living. It was just there, right up ahead, but why was the front door open and why was Claus, one of the men Guthrie had sent over for protection, arguing with a stranger on the front steps? Was that Elliot’s carriage over there?
Dread seeped into Simon’s veins, freezing his blood. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening yet, but none of what he saw boded well. Needing to make sure Ida was still there he kept running, not pausing for breath until he reached the front door. “What’s going on?”
Claus turned. “Ida’s been charged with attempted murder. The chief magistrate has arrested her and taken her to Bow Street. I’m trying to explain to this here constable that he’ll have the Duke of Windham to deal with unless they release her right away.”
“Never mind Windham,” Simon said as he moved in front of the constable. “I’m here now and I demand an explanation.”
“And who might you be?” the constable asked.
Simon straightened himself to his full height and glared down at the smaller man. “The Earl of Fielding.”
The constable grunted. “Then I’d suggest you speak with that gentleman over there.” He nodded toward Elliot’s carriage. “As I understand it, Mr. Nugent is your relation?”
Simon frowned. “He’s my uncle.”
“Well, he’s also the one pressing charges.” The constable tipped his hat. “Good day, my lord.”
Simon bristled.
“The way I see it,” Claus muttered, “you’d best have a word with your uncle.”
“And you’d better go and tell Guthrie what’s happened.” Simon clenched his fists. “Let him know I intend to do what I can to have the charges dropped.”
“Aye.”
Too furious to think of the repercussions he himself might face at Guthrie’s hands, Simon marched toward the carriage and flung the door open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Putting your life back in order,” Elliot barked.
“You’ve no right,” Simon snapped. “Ida is just as innocent as her father was. She doesn’t deserve this.”
“I beg to differ.”
Simon glared at the man he’d known all his life, the man he’d refused to think might have played a part in what had happened to Matthew. “It was you, wasn’t it? You wrote the letters and hired a forger to craft the seals. You helped Napoleon escape from Elba.”
“How dare you imply such a thing?”
“You’re rotten to the core, and I intend to prove it.” He slammed the door shut and strode away with every intention of hiring a carriage to take him to Bow Street post haste
“You’re making a terrible mistake!” Elliot’s voice gave chase. “I only have your best intentions at heart!”
Simon chose not to listen. He had more important things on his mind. God, he’d been blind. The answer he and Ida had been looking for had been there all along. His uncle was the villain. No doubt about it. Which meant he must have forged his handwriting when he’d written instructions to Murdoch and managed to hide himself in the crowd when he’d pushed Ida down the stairs at Huntley House. The man was clearly far more devious than Simon had ever thought possible.
Slumped against the corner of the carriage as it rolled through the streets on its way to the Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, Ida faced her defeat. She’d failed. Mr. Elliot Nugent had stifled her efforts by seeing to her arrest. She would be imprisoned, judged, and convicted. The power of the elite was against her, the desire to see her silenced too strong for her to fight.
It was unjust, but it was the way the world worked. Her father had faced a similar situation. Unlike him, she had Simon and Guthrie on her side, but she feared neither man would have the influence required for her release. Not when the charge against her was so severe, and not when it would be her word against a respectable member of Society.
The carriage came to a jarring halt. Ida bumped her shoulder against the side. The door opened. “Get out.”
The order was curt and Ida complied, allowing the man who waited for her to grab her arm and steer her inside the building they’d arrived at. He marched her along, past men who stopped to stare at the new prisoner, then onward, through a series of doors and toward a cell.
“I need to speak with the Earl of Fielding,” Ida said.
The man unlocked the gate to the cell and shoved her inside. “What you need to do is be quiet.”
“He knows I’m being set up, just like my father was. Please. You have to tell him I’m here. You have to—”
“Enough.” The man closed the gate and locked it. “You’ll have your say soon enough before the judge.”
Ida watched him go. His shoes produced an eerie series of clicks that faded with his retreat. Feeling more helpless than the day she’d realized her father would never return, Ida sank down onto the only piece of furniture her cell offered – a bench that would also serve as her bed. She’d been getting dressed when the chief magistrate had demanded the front door be opened. The shimmering lilac silk gown she wore seemed ridiculous now.
Her throat suddenly tightened while her eyes began to sting. She would no longer be ready for the Fielding carriage to pick her up at six. There would be no evening at Fielding House, no dinner in Simon’s company. A tear trickled down her cheek.
He would come for her. He had to.
But after passing the night without his arrival, she started getting concerned. And when he still hadn’t shown up by noon, her insecurities started playing tricks on her brain.
Stop it, she chided herself. He will come. Simon cared for her. She knew this. So there had to be some other explanation.
And so there was, she learned that evening when he was finally shown to her cell. Tears sprang to her eyes once more the moment she saw his dear face. Deep apprehension was etched in his every feature when he stepped toward the bars between them. He’d brought Guthrie and Huntley with him. Both men’s expressions were just as grim as Simon’s, which only increased her misgivings.
“I’m sorry you had to wait for me this long,” Simon grabbed her hands through between the bars. He squeezed her fingers. “When I tried to see you earlier I was denied access. Apparently my uncle raised concerns over me interfering with your case. It wasn’t until I brought Guthrie and Huntley back with me that I was permitted entrance. Having two formidable dukes on one’s side is deuced useful, I must say.”
Ida managed a smile, albeit a slightly wobbly one. “Thank you for coming.”
“I hope you didn’t doubt that I would.” There was an element of sheepishness about his eyes but it didn’t quite hide his unease.
“Of course not.” She glanced at Guthrie and Huntley, who stood a bit further back, before returning her attention to Simon. “Your uncle was there when they arrested me. I think all of this is his doing.”
“I know it is. I’ve already spoken to him. Ida, he wants you gone, which has to mean he’s the man who framed your father. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. Everything pointed to Kirksdale and then to Elmwood. My uncle was the least likely suspect until he approached you at the house, and even after that I dismissed him when it turned out he just wanted to bribe you.”
“We’ve considered the possibility of it being all three men and of Mr. St. John possibly being involved too. They could have been working together. We mustn’t forget that.”
“You’re right. I’m just not sure how we’re going to prove it, and with you imprisoned now, time is running out.”
“We’re doing what we can to have the charges against you dropped,” Guthrie said. “We’ve contacted our solicitors. Turns out Fielding and I use the same one. And after we leave here, I intend to have a little heart to heart with Mr. Nugent. If we can get him to tell the truth, your innocence won’t be hard to prove.”
“You must not be disheartened,” Huntley told her, “especially not with Windham, Fielding, and me in your corner. And I can get both of my brothers-in-law to support you as w
ell, which means you’d have four dukes and an earl on your side.”
Ida appreciated the gesture but…
“It will all come down to the judge’s ruling.” And she feared Simon’s uncle would make sure the last thing she got was a fair trial. “Do you know who the judge will be?”
“No. The date of the trial hasn’t been determined yet, but I intend to find out,” Simon promised.
“Simon, I worry that—”
“Visiting time is over,” a thick male voice called from the end of the hallway.
“One moment,” Simon told the guard over his shoulder before fixing her with a direct stare. “Ida, this isn’t how I imagined it would be. My intention was to have a grand dinner party last night with you as the guest of honor.”
“Simon—”
“Please listen, because this is important. I invited the Warwicks, the Huntleys, the Windhams, the Kirksdales, and the Elmwoods, because I wanted to propose to you in front of all the people before whom I never gave you enough support. I meant to prove myself to you – to show you that I would be proud to call you my wife and that I would never regret marrying you. Not in a million years. But since the chance to do so was taken from me, Guthrie and Huntley and that guard over there will have to serve as the only witnesses, because while I’m willing to fight tooth and nail for your freedom no matter what, it would mean a great deal if you would permit me to do so as your fiancé.”
Clasping her hand, he sank to one knee. “I want you to know how vital you are to my happiness, how terrified I was I might lose you. You are my world, Ida. Nothing makes sense without you in it, which is why I hope and pray you will accept my offer.” He took a deep breath. “Marry me, Ida. Be my wife and let me love you until I draw my last breath.”
With tears blurring her vision, Ida stared into Simon’s upturned gaze. He was making his feelings for her abundantly clear, not just in private this time, but in front of others. It shook her, for she’d not dared imagine they could ever be truly happy together without fear of judgment or scandal. But he was choosing to disregard the opinion of others in order to build a life with her by his side. He was announcing his devotion to her as if no one else in the world mattered, and Ida’s heart soared in response.
The Formidable Earl Page 24