‘But we are not going to Stamford. Melling lies to the south-west and…’ A ghastly suspicion entered her head. ‘We are going to Melling, aren’t we?’
He laughed. For one moment she was actually relieved, for if she had been inveigled into leaving London by a lie, Ledbury was not lying at death’s door. Then the full implications of what was happening hit her. She had gone voluntarily with this man. What would be said, what would her husband believe, after all that had happened these last few days? And what did Geoffrey Knowle intend to do with her?
They drew into the yard of The Bell at Stilton at five o’clock, and Sir Geoffrey announced that he was in need of something more substantial than coffee and a pastry. Kitty, who had been grappling with the problem of how to effect her escape from a moving chaise, agreed, with a suitable show of reluctance. At an inn she might get a message sent to Melling Hall, and Lord Inglesham at least would read it. If she had the chance she would quietly hire a vehicle to convey her home, as long as they accepted her title, for she had no money on her person, and then… But if she announced that she was the Countess of Ledbury, questions would be asked about her companion, who was not the earl, a man known in the area. She was trying to think so hard that Sir Geoffrey could read her face with ease. He ushered her into a panelled private parlour.
‘I really would not attempt anything foolish, my lady.’
‘But you are kidnapping me, sir.’
‘You came willingly, remember, but yes, I think it fair to say we are.’
‘We?’
‘It was Mama’s idea.’
Kitty blinked. This made no sense whatsoever.
‘Lady Knowle? I have never met her.’
‘She is very beautiful. Look.’ He took out his pocket watch and flicked it open to reveal the portrait. Kitty was frightened. There was something very strange going on.
‘Yes, she is,’ she agreed, quickly. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘The clever answer would, I think be, “to hell and back”.’ His smile became a grin.
Kitty panicked.
‘Let me go now, and I will say nothing of it, I swear.’
‘Oh it is not something you will ever tell anyone about anyway.’
Kitty felt her knees shake. This was one nightmare changing into another. She had to fight the helplessness and think of something, anything, that could save her. She noted that he had placed himself between her and the door. She wondered if there might be an opportunity when food was brought in to get out and into somewhere public enough that she could prevent him reclaiming her. Trusting to this very vague plan she sat upon a chair by the fireside and looked as passive as she could. Her captor was far too quick at picking up signs.
Footsteps sounded on the flagstones outside and a serving maid entered with a tray of tea and a tankard of ale. Just for a moment the girl was between her and Knowle, a vital obstruction. She rose suddenly and half stumbled to the doorway, her fingers touching the doorknob before the tray hit the floor as the maid was pushed aside, and a strong hand gripped her wrist.
Knowle said nothing, though he would have had to shout above the serving girl loudly declaring that the breakages were not her fault. The grip was vice-like, but his expression devoid of any emotion whatsoever. The commotion drew the proprietor, full of apology.
The grip twisted her wrist so that she stepped back and sat upon the chair again. Knowle’s eyes remained upon her even as he dismissed the man behind him, who ushered out the maid whilst berating her.
‘Now you have kept us from refreshment. How silly.’ His very calm was terrifying. ‘What you have to accept, my lady, is that there is nothing you can do, and nobody to rescue you.’ He drew a small pistol from his pocket. It was rather ornate, all mother of pearl butt and silver chasing, the sort of thing ladies occasionally used to carry. ‘This was for later, but you might as well know now…’
He stopped as voices were heard outside, authoritative, urgent, and as he dragged Kitty to her feet and pushed her towards the corner of the room the door was flung open, and Lord Ledbury stood upon the threshold, with Lord Inglesham close behind. Kitty cried out, thinking the obvious act for Knowle was to shoot her husband, unarmed and unprepared, but instead the man laughed and pulled her close as a shield, though the pistol held the earl at bay. Lord Inglesham was no longer in view.
‘Even better, so much better. Do you not think so, Mama? You want your wife, Ledbury? My father wanted his own wife too, but your father took her first and he had to put her away. She went mad you know. Will yours go mad when you lock her up so that nobody sees her shame?’
‘She has nothing of which to be ashamed.’ The earl’s eyes were fixed upon Knowle, but he stressed the ‘nothing’.
‘Has she not? And who will believe her? She left with me, in full view of the servants, this morning, and it will be all round London by now, I promise you, even if their silence is bought. You cannot save her honour. Do you think she tried to do so on the way? Perhaps it would be noble of me to salvage yours for you.’ He laughed, a jangling, discordant laugh.
The pistol, which had been pointing at the earl, keeping him back, was suddenly pressed over Kitty’s heart. She did not move, nor look anywhere but at her husband, and her look told him everything he needed to know.
‘Only you,’ she breathed, softly, and smiled at him, and for a moment their eyes met before he returned his stare to her captor.
‘You have no quarrel with her. Let her go.’
‘I do not, but she is my knife to twist into your heart.’
‘You’re mad, Knowle.’ His voice was very even and calm. ‘Let her go. Your grievance if it exists at all, is with my blood, not hers. You would not kill an innocent woman. If you need to shoot anyone, make it me.’
The earl tried to keep the focus from Lord Inglesham, who was now just outside the doorway with a stocky individual in homespuns, and who whispered, ‘When you hear the crash, tackle him low.’ The earl indicated he had heard by the clenching of one hand.
‘But killing her will hurt you more than a bullet in your own flesh. We know that,’ Knowle hissed.
‘But I never harmed your mother. You are saying that to take revenge upon my father you will shoot not his son, but the son’s wife. My father never met my wife.’
For a moment the barrel wavered between husband and wife, and as it did so Lord Inglesham threw something large and ceramic which hit the floor to the right of the doorway and smashed with a loud crash. Knowle could not but be distracted. Lord Ledbury launched himself to grapple the man and drag him down, away from Kitty. They rolled on the floor, a chair toppling, and then Knowle wrenched an arm free. Ledbury pushed it upwards, there was a laugh, and a shot rang out.
A silence followed the ringing echo of the explosion in the confined space.
Lord Inglesham took the three steps into the room, snatched the cloth from the table and cast it over the corpse and the floor spattered with blood and brains. Kitty opened her mouth but not even a scream emerged. She remained leaning against the wall, transfixed. The earl clambered to his feet, wiping a trickle of blood from his brow, and pulled her into his arms, blocking further view.
‘Get her out of here, George,’ muttered Lord Inglesham, and then turned to the man in homespuns, who was standing, gaping-mouthed in the doorway. ‘Constable, give me a hand here.’
*
Lord Ledbury supported his wife into the passageway, and thence into a small parlour. The innkeeper, wringing his hands, was ordered to fetch brandy.
‘It’s all over, Kitty.’
‘You are safe. He said… I could not think. And Lord Inglesham’s note said you were desperate. I had to come… I was so afraid.’
‘Sssh.’
She was shaking, and his arm tightened about her. The landlord returned with brandy, a glass, and nervous gabbling, and was unceremoniously told to get out. His lordship poured three fingers of brandy and held it to her lips.
‘Drink this. It will do
you good.’
She sipped, spluttered, choked, but obeyed.
‘What he said… it is true, isn’t it? I am ruined, whatever the truth. There will be such scandal.’
‘No. What happened here was witnessed by the Law, for all the use it was, and was clearly the action and ranting of a madman. Our own servants will not gossip, and the Rowingtons will not let the tale get out. The story we put out is half true. You were approached this morning by Knowle who said he had caught word that I had been involved in an accident upon the Great North Road. You knew I had been called back to Melling Hall and in your agitation, believed his falsehood, and only discovered it when, by chance, he changed horses here just as Inglesham and I were changing horses upon our return journey. You and I will return to London tomorrow, and once you are over the “shock” will appear together as if all is well.’
‘As if… It is madness though.’ Her teeth chattered, but she took a rather large swig to drain the last of the unpleasant brandy. His heart thumped, but then she added, ‘…for there was no reason for his actions,’ and he breathed again.
‘Knowle was mad. No doubt he inherited it from his mother.’
‘Was… was it true?’
‘About his mother? A version of true. I believe my father strayed in that direction, some years after Mama died. You see he could never bear to remarry, but he, like me, had appetites. The thing was that Maria Knowle was unstable even then. It was, I believe, a very brief liaison, cut short by the realisation that she was simultaneously conducting affairs with three other gentlemen. Which of them fathered the child she bore I do not think anyone knew. Knowle kept her private, of course, but then the baby died, in an “accident”, it was said. I was at Eton, and did not get the facts. Rumour filtered to school that in reality she had killed it, because after that she was indeed put away on one of his small estates. She died a few years later, by her own hand.’
‘It is tragic.’ She held out the empty glass.
‘Yes, but long ago.’ He took it from her hand. There was silence for a few minutes. He could hear Inglesham’s voice in the corridor, calm, in command of the situation. Kitty still shook in his arms as if she had the ague.
‘I could not face breakfast… have had… nothing but a biscuit… on the journey… could not brook any delay…’ she mumbled, her words slurring a little.
‘Ah.’ It had been quite a full glass, and on an empty stomach and for one unused to spirits…
‘Well, a little sleep will do you good, and will stop the tremors.’
There was a knock at the door, and Lord Inglesham entered.
‘Is she all right?’ He looked at Kitty.
‘Sort of. I gave her brandy… on a very empty stomach.’
‘Ah.’
‘Just what I said.’
‘Well, I suggest you take her home and…’
‘We are going back to Melling Hall tonight but will return to Town tomorrow. Easiest way to quash rumour. This… this was all the action of a lunatic, deception, kidnap, whatever you wish. We will decide later. By the way, the village constable was an inspired thought.’
‘Well, I thought a witness useful when you killed him. But since he did it himself…’
‘It did not occur to you that he might kill me?’ Lord Ledbury grinned at his friend.
‘Oh no, not after he did not fire immediately he saw you.’ The grin was mirrored, briefly. ‘I am going to speak with the local magistrate, if not the coroner,’ announced Inglesham, ‘though that might not be until the morning. We might get away with what the constable saw, which was that a madman, ranting, took a lady hostage in front of her husband, and after being “dissuaded” from shooting her, took his own life after a tussle. The constable has never dealt with anything worse than petty larceny. He is all of a jumble as to what he saw and heard.’
‘It would help. If Louisa Yarningale is spreading rumour we just put up a united front.’
Kitty’s trembling was a little diminished, but she seemed half asleep against her lord’s chest.
‘She loves you, you know that.’
‘I don’t deserve her love.’
‘I did not say you did, but then what man ever deserves the love of a really good woman?’
‘Thank you, for back there. And for stopping me…’
‘Forget it. What are friends for… And you did as much for me, over a longer timescale. Just take my advice on this, and never tell her the whole tale. She would blame herself. You take the curricle and I will return to London in the chaise Knowle hired, when all is tidy here. If I can I will come and see you…’
‘Tomorrow evening.’
‘Of course.’
‘And thank Miss Sudbury for me.’
Lord Inglesham actually blushed.
*
His lordship drove home at a steady pace, with his wife very drowsy and leaning heavily against him. At one point he handled the reins and whip in one hand, and his free arm was about her. The shadows were lengthened and the evening cool when they reached Melling Hall.
The door was opened by Norton, a look of shock upon his face as he beheld his master with his mistress in his arms and blood upon her gown. He blanched.
‘My lord!’
‘She is unharmed. Follow me.’
Lord Ledbury stepped over his own threshold and strode towards the great staircase, at the top of which he turned not to his own suite but to the yellow bedchamber. Norton, speechless and stunned, bustled in front of him to open the door.
‘Bring candles.’ The room would soon be in darkness.
Norton hurried away and returned with a branch of candles, and, on his own initiative, a glass of water.
‘For her ladyship reviving, my lord.’
‘Thank you, Norton. That will be all for this evening.’
The butler nodded and withdrew to pour himself a stiff brandy in the privacy of his little sitting room. It had been a very upsetting forty-eight hours.
Kitty was barely stirring. Lord Ledbury laid her on the bed, removed her kid boots, pulled off his own boots and his coat with some difficulty, and then lay facing her. He had brought her to this room because it felt right. It had been the room of the only other woman he had loved, and it was an expression of his admitting to himself as much as to his wife, just how he felt about her now. He watched her breathing, drinking in her closeness. Her face, every tiny part of it, was beautiful to him, from the little pockmark beside her left eye, the curl of her lashes, which were, he realised, rather long, to the hint of dimple in her chin. This was his wife, and from what she had said at their meeting, all was not lost. He dare not be certain, for perhaps that had been shock, or fear or… ‘Only you,’ she had said, but did that mean she had not been harmed, or also that she loved him? Well, she had also said that she had come because she was afraid for him, he who was so unworthy of her. Last night Henry Inglesham had saved him, but in the long term it would be his Kitty who saved him, would help him be closer at least to the husband she deserved, closer perhaps to the man Mama would have wanted him to be.
Kitty opened her eyes a little blearily. He stroked a finger tentatively down her cheek and smiled, with even less confidence, at her confused waking.
‘Where are we?’ she whispered.
‘Home.’ It was just one word, but it meant so much, because the ‘our’ was implicit.
‘Home.’ She repeated it, and sighed. It was a contented sigh, he thought.
‘I gave you too much brandy, my love. I am sorry. You have been asleep.’
‘I feel a bit… strange.’ She frowned. ‘Muddled. I…’ she stopped, as the memory of what had happened returned. ‘Oh! I did not dream it, it happened. He…’ Her eyes widened.
‘Yes, it happened, but it is over. Do not think about it.’ He paused. ‘Kitty, what you said, about coming to me, ‘“only you”… you meant you do love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank God.’ He held her tightly, his cheek to hers. He could not say an
ything for a few minutes, then he pulled back a little and looked into her face again. His own expression was very serious.
‘When you accepted me, under duress, you said that rakes do not reform, and I said I had no intention of trying. Well, I still think you were right. I shall always be a rake at heart, Kitty, prone to wild passions and waywardness, but I swear to you, I want to be your rake, just yours. When I saw Knowle charming you, saw your friendship with him, I was jealous, as you said. But I was not the dog whose bone had been stolen, and wanted it back because it was mine. I discovered it was so much more than that.
I have wanted women to need me, to want me, but never have I actually wanted a woman to love me, Kitty, and I have made love to women but never loved one, until you. I have been such a blind, almighty fool. I so want you to love me, as I love you. You are sure it is not too late?’ He had good reason to hope, but needed her affirmation again, to be sure.
‘It is not too late, George.’ Her voice was still barely above a whisper. She took his face between her hands and blinked away tears as she looked into his eyes, eyes filled with longing. ‘You are my fool, my husband, and yes, my rake, and though I tried so hard to remain impervious to your oh-so-widely advertised charms, I did fall in love with you, do love you. Geoffrey Knowle wanted my ruination for a revenge. He was a devil in the disguise of a friend. I prefer the devil I know, George. Oh, George.’ Her breath caught on a sob, even as her lips touched his.
He wrapped himself about her. When Louisa Yarningale had pressed so close, his reaction had been merely physical instinct. Now his heart sang, for his wife, his Kitty, was so much more to him, and he wanted her as he had never wanted another woman. The first kiss was very tender.
‘I love you,’ he whispered between further kisses, ‘I love you, want you so much.’
The brandy had intoxicated her and made her sleepy. His desire intoxicated her but made her tingle with a spark that became a flame and vied with the overwhelming exhaustion of her body, and a vague feeling of nausea. It lost.
The Devil You Know Page 28