by Amanda Quick
“Very well, mayhap there were a few tears,” Elenora admitted. “But I assure you, she was quite sincere. I do not think that anything except the most extreme desperation could have induced her to approach me.” She took a breath. “My lord, I realize that your private affairs are none of my business.”
“A very insightful observation, Miss Lodge. I could not agree more.”
“Nevertheless—”
“Nevertheless, you are interfering in my affairs,” he finished for her. “No doubt because you simply cannot help yourself. Indeed, I believe that it is in your very nature to intrude into my private business, just as it is in the nature of a cat to bedevil a hapless mouse that it has cornered.”
She flushed, shaken by his opinion of her.
“You are no mouse,” she managed weakly. She did not add that if there was a hunting cat in this vehicle, he was seated directly across from her.
Arthur, however, did not appear convinced of her assertion. “You are certain that I am not playing mouse to your cat?”
“My lord.” She swallowed, tightened her fingers together in her lap and glowered. “You are teasing me.”
“Hmm.”
He was teasing her, she assured herself. There was nothing for it but to ignore the deliberate provocation and conclude her plea on Juliana’s behalf. She had promised the young woman that she would see this through.
“What I am attempting to convey here,” she continued, “is that you are involved in this unfortunate muddle, whether you like it or not. Furthermore, it is within your power to set matters straight.”
“Mmm.” The prospect of setting matters straight did not appear to hold great appeal to him. He pinned her with a steely look. “Given your interest in the subject of finances, I’m sure you comprehend that if I were to offer young Roland a share in a consortium, I would also be obliged to loan him the money to make the purchase?”
“Well, yes, I do see that, but he could repay the loan with what he makes off the investment.”
“And if it transpires that the investment founders? What then, my clever little cat? I must suffer Roland’s loss as well as my own?”
“By all accounts, your investment schemes rarely, if ever, fail. Margaret and Mr. Fleming assured me that you are a genius when it comes to finances. Sir, I feel confident that, although you are not pleased with this turn of events, you will nevertheless give Juliana’s appeal close consideration and decide to go to her rescue.”
“You are confident of that, are you?” he asked politely.
“Yes.”
He returned his attention to the scene outside the window for an uncomfortable length of time.
She was beginning to grow restless, wondering if she had pushed him too far.
“I suppose I should do something about the mess in which Roland and Juliana find themselves,” he said after a while.
She exhaled a soft sigh of relief and gave him an approving smile. “I knew you were too kind to turn your back on Juliana and Roland, sir.”
“It is not a question of compassion,” he said, sounding resigned, “but rather of guilt.”
“Guilt?” She considered that, lips pursed, and then shook her head. “That is putting too fine a point on it, sir. The entire affair was simply a very unfortunate mistake that you can correct, but I don’t think you should feel guilt-ridden about events.”
“Asking for Juliana’s hand was, indeed, a disastrous miscalculation on my part, and it is true that I chose not to chase after her the night she eloped. But those two factors are not the source of my guilt.”
She was not reassured by this twist in the conversation. Alarmed that he might be taking on more blame than was strictly necessary, she reached out unthinkingly and touched his knee.
“You must not be too hard on yourself, sir,” she said very earnestly. “Juliana was very young, very sheltered and, I suspect, somewhat lacking in common sense. She did not realize that you would make an excellent husband.”
There was a short silence.
He looked down at her gloved fingertips resting lightly on his leg.
She followed his gaze and froze at the realization of just how intimately she was touching him. She could feel the heat of his body penetrating the soft kid leather of her glove.
They both contemplated her hand on his leg for what seemed an eternity. Elenora could not move. It was as if she had been placed in a mesmeric trance. A strange panic sizzled through her.
She recovered an instant later. Mortified, she hastily removed her hand and folded it neatly in her lap. It seemed to her that the tips of her fingers continued to burn.
She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, there is no need to feel outright guilt in this affair. After all, you did nothing wrong.”
He looked at her. She was startled to see that his eyes gleamed with wry humor.
“That is a matter of opinion,” he said. “Who do you think was responsible for working out every damned detail of the plan for that elopement?”
“I beg your pardon?” And then comprehension struck. “You arranged for the pair to run off that night?”
“I took care of everything.” He shook his head. “Right down to selecting the date, purchasing a ladder of the correct length to reach Juliana’s bedroom window, and ordering the coach and team from the livery stable.”
21
She stared at him in astonishment. He allowed himself to savor the expression. It was not often that he was able to disconcert her like this.
But as amusing as it was to see her flustered and amazed, the sensation was nowhere near as satisfying as had been the touch of her fingers on his thigh a moment before. It seemed to him that he could still feel the warmth of her hand through the fabric of his trousers.
Elenora’s shock turned to wonder. “Of course.” Her lips twitched and then curved into a laughing smile. “You were the one who drew up that infamous escape plan, not Roland.”
“Someone had to do it for him. It was obvious that young Burnley was quite passionate about rescuing his lady from the doom that awaited her. And an elopement was the only way I could escape the tangle without humiliating Juliana and her family.”
“How on earth did you convince Roland to accept a plot that you had crafted? He must have considered you his arch enemy.”
“Quite true. I believe that I was very much the devil incarnate to him. I still am, for that matter. Bennett Fleming was my assistant in the matter.”
“Of course.” Her eyes sparkled with delight.
“He was the one who took Roland aside and convinced him that the only way to rescue Juliana was to run off with her. When Roland appeared enthusiastic but bewildered about how to go about it, Bennett gave him the strategy I had concocted.” He thought about the entire day and a half he had been obliged to devote to creating the plan. “I wrote out every instruction. Do you have any notion of how complicated it is to stage a successful elopement?”
She laughed. The sound tugged at his insides. He had an almost irresistible urge to reach across the narrow space between them, pull her into his arms and kiss her until her amusement was transformed into desire.
The words she had spoken a short while before echoed again and again in his head. Juliana was very young, very sheltered and, I suspect, somewhat lacking in common sense. She did not realize that you would make an excellent husband.
“I must admit, I have never had occasion to consider what would be required in an elopement,” she replied cheerfully. “But now that I stop and ponder the subject, I can see that it could get complicated.”
“You may take it from me, it is not a simple task. Roland clearly had no notion of how to go about the business. I had a nasty feeling that if I left it in his hands, he would make such a complete hash of the business that Juliana’s father would get wind of it in time to stop the pair before the, uh, damage was done, as it were.”
“You mean before Juliana had been compromised to a degree that left no alternative but ma
rriage.”
“Yes. In the end it was a near thing, in spite of all my careful planning.”
“The storm.” She chuckled. “In spite of all your foresight, you could not anticipate such a dramatic change in the weather.”
“I assumed that Roland would have the good sense to postpone the elopement until the roads were passable.” He sighed. “But, no, the young hothead insisted upon sticking to every single detail of the scheme, including the time and date. You cannot imagine my dread when I got word that the pair had fled into the teeth of the gale. I was certain that Juliana’s father would find them and drag his daughter home before she and Roland had thoroughly compromised themselves.”
“That concern no doubt explains the reports that you played cards until dawn.”
“It was one of the longest nights of my entire life,” he assured her. “I had to do something to keep my mind off the possibility that my plan would fail.”
He felt the carriage rumble to a halt. They could not possibly be home. It was much too soon. He wanted a little more time in the close confines of the carriage; a little more time to be alone with Elenora.
He glanced out the window and felt a whisper of unease when he realized that they had not halted in Rain Street. Rather, the carriage had stopped near a park. Another vehicle had drawn up alongside.
Arthur raised the cushion beside his leg and reached into the hidden compartment for the pistol he kept there. Across the way, Elenora’s brows drew together in a concerned frown. He felt her tension, but she did not ask any bothersome questions.
The trap door in the roof opened. Jenks looked down from his perch on the box. “A hack just hailed me, sir. Says his passenger spotted this carriage and wishes a word with ye. What do ye want me to do?”
Arthur watched the door of the hackney fly open. Hitchins jumped down to the pavement and strode toward the carriage.
“It’s all right, Jenks.” Arthur put the pistol back into the compartment and lowered the cushioned lid. “That man works for me.”
“Aye, sir.” The trap closed.
Hitchins opened the door of the cab.
“M’lord,” he said. Then he noticed Elenora. A broad grin crossed his rugged face. “A pleasure to see ye again, ma’am. And looking very fine, indeed.”
She smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Hitchins.”
“I told his lordship yesterday when he came to Bow Street to hire me that I remembered you well. I knew that day I escorted you out of your house that you would come about. You’ve got spirit, ma’am. And now look at ye, riding in a fine carriage and engaged to an earl.”
Elenora laughed. “I can hardly believe it myself, Mr. Hitchins.”
Arthur thought about the rest of what Hitchins had told him the day before, when they had talked about the time he had been hired to assist in the eviction. “It was an amazing thing, sir. Amazing. There she was, sir, about to lose everything she possessed, but Miss Lodge’s first concern was for the servants and the rest of ’em that worked on the farm. Not many people in her situation would have worried about anyone else at a time like that . . .”
Arthur looked at Hitchins. “What have you come to tell me?”
The Runner swiveled his head back to Arthur, his manner very serious now. “I went to yer club, like you instructed, sir, but the porter told me you’d left. He said you were off to a fancy-dress ball and gave me the address. I was on my way there when we passed your carriage.”
“Does this concern Ibbitts?”
“Aye, sir. You said I was to tell ye if anyone came to see him. Well, someone did. A gentleman went to his lodgings not two hours past. He waited there until Ibbitts returned from a tavern. They were private for a time. After a while, the visitor left. Had a hackney waiting in the street.”
A cold mist sleeted through Arthur’s veins. “Did you get a look at Ibbitts’s visitor?” he asked in a voice that made Hitchins raise his brows.
“No, sir. I was not close enough to see his face. Nor did he notice me. You told me that I was not to let anyone know that I was watching Ibbitts.”
“What can you tell me about his visitor?”
Hitchins’s face scrunched in deep concentration. “As I said, he arrived in a hack. The light was bad, but I could see that he had on a cloak with the hood pulled up over his head. When he left he was in a great hurry.”
Arthur realized that Elenora was following the conversation very intently.
“You’re certain the visitor was a man, Mr. Hitchins?” she asked.
“Aye,” Hitchins said. “I could tell that from the way he moved.”
“What of Ibbitts?” Arthur asked. “Did he leave his lodgings again?”
“No, sir. As far as I know, he’s still inside. I went around to the back of the building and checked the window. There’s no light inside. Expect he went to bed.”
Arthur glanced at Elenora. “I will see you home and then I will pay a call on Ibbitts. I intend to find out everything I can about his visitor this evening.”
“What if he will not tell you the truth?” she asked.
“I do not think it will be difficult to get Ibbitts to talk,” he said calmly. “I know his sort. All I need do is offer him money.”
“It is quite unnecessary to escort me back to Rain Street before you talk to Ibbitts,” Elenora said quickly. “Indeed, it would be a great waste of time. The streets are clogged with traffic and the journey will no doubt cause you a considerable delay.”
“I do not think—” he began.
She did not allow him to finish. “It is the most reasonable course of action under the circumstances. I can see that you are eager to interview Ibbitts. There is no reason why I cannot accompany you.”
“She’s got a point, sir,” Hitchins offered helpfully.
They were right, Arthur knew. Nevertheless, had Elenora been any other lady of his acquaintance, he would not have even considered taking her into that part of town. But she was not any other female. Elenora would not faint at the sight of a drunken tavern patron in the street or a prostitute plying her trade in an alley. Between Jenks, Hitchins and himself, she would be quite safe.
“Very well,” he finally agreed, “provided you give me your word that you will remain in the carriage while I speak with Ibbitts.”
“But I might be of some assistance in the interview.”
“You will not enter Ibbitts’s lodgings, and that is final.”
She did not look pleased, but she did not argue. “We are wasting time, sir.”
“Indeed we are.” He shifted position on the seat. “Come with us, Hitchins.”
“Aye, sir.” Hitchins hauled himself up into the carriage and sat down.
Arthur gave the address to Jenks. He then turned down the interior carriage lamps and lowered the curtains so that no one in a passing carriage could see Elenora.
“It was a brilliant notion to set Mr. Hitchins to watch Ibbitts, sir,” she said.
Arthur almost smiled. The glowing admiration in her voice was absurdly gratifying.
22
The carriage clattered to a halt in the darkened street outside Ibbitts’s lodgings some thirty minutes later. Elenora had been correct about the traffic, Arthur thought, following Hitchins out of the vehicle. Escorting her back to the house in Rain Street would have cost him upward of an hour in lost time.
Before closing the door of the carriage, he looked back at her, intending to remind her of her vow to remain in the vehicle.
“Be careful, Arthur,” she said before he could speak. Her face was pale in the deep shadows cast by the hood of her domino. “I do not like the feel of this situation.”
The urgency in her voice took him by surprise. He studied her as she sat in the darkness. Until this moment she had seemed quite calm and utterly sure of herself. This attack of nerves surprised him.
“Do not be anxious,” he said quietly. “Jenks and Hitchins will watch over you.”
“It is not my safety that I am concerned about
.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “It is just that for some reason I have developed a very nasty feeling about this business. Please do not go in there alone. I do not need the protection of both men. I beg you to take one of them with you.”
“I have my pistol.”
“Pistols are notorious for misfiring at inopportune moments.”
This show of unease was uncharacteristic of her, he thought. He did not have time to talk her out of her agitation. It was easier to placate her.
“Very well, if it will soothe your nerves I will take Hitchins with me and leave Jenks to guard you and the carriage.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Her relief and gratitude worried him more than anything she had said.
He closed the door of the carriage and looked at Jenks. “Give us a lantern. Hitchins and I will go inside. You will stay here to watch Miss Lodge.”
“Aye, m’lord.” Jenks handed down one of the lanterns.
Hitchins lit the lamp and then took a wicked-looking knife out of a deep pocket.
Arthur glanced at the gleaming blade. “Kindly keep that concealed unless it becomes absolutely necessary to employ it.”
“Whatever you say, sir.” Hitchins obligingly slipped the knife into its hidden sheath. “Ibbitts’s lodgings are upstairs at the back.”
Arthur led the way into a dingy front hall. No crack of light showed under the door of the single ground-floor room.
“A couple of tavern girls live there,” Hitchins explained. “Saw them leave several hours ago. They won’t be back until near dawn, like as not.”
Arthur nodded and went swiftly up the steps. Hitchins followed close behind with the lantern.
The short upstairs hall lay shrouded in intense darkness. Hitchins raised the lantern. The weak yellow glare fell upon a closed door.
Arthur crossed the hall, made a fist and knocked sharply.
There was no response.
He tried the knob. It turned easily in his hand. Too easily.
He knew then that Elenora’s apprehension had been well-warranted. There was something very wrong here.
He opened the door.