by Merry Farmer
Stephen stopped, glancing forward with a suddenly shocked expression. Max whirled around to see what he was looking at. His heart nearly dropped to his feet when he saw Lady Bardess striding forward, dressed as though she were going to tea at Buckingham Palace, a pair of grim-faced men in suits flanking her. As soon as she spotted Max, she pulled up short, her mouth dropping in shock.
“Lord Hillsboro.” Lady Bardess recovered from her shock first, though she continued to glance around desperately, as though she’d been caught stealing. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Lady Bardess,” Max said, striding toward her.
“Well, I…that is to say…er….” Lady Bardess’s chest rose and fell as though she were close to hyperventilating. She glanced desperately to the men with her.
Another, familiar voice cut into the rising tension of the scene with, “That’s them! There they are.”
Max glanced past Lady Bardess to see none other than Sister Constance charging toward them. Behind her were at least half a dozen Metropolitan Police officers. Sister Constance’s wimple shook with every fierce step she took on her way to Max, Stephen, and the cluster of children.
“Yes, that’s them,” Lady Bardess echoed, her face suddenly lighting with victory. “Arrest those two men at once.”
Chapter 19
There were too many wild details for Stephen to process at once in the mad scene in front of him. Sister Constance was the last person he expected to see in Leicestershire. Lady Bardess should have been as well, but he wasn’t at all surprised by her presence. The two men with her were clearly thrown by the presence of two men surrounded by dozens of children—numbers that were growing by the second as more young people fled the secret factory floor. Those men seemed even more alarmed by the Metropolitan Police officers, though. Stephen himself was surprised to find such a large contingent of London officers so far from the city, especially after what Wrexham had said about the importance of the investigation in the Met’s eyes.
His thoughts happened all within the space of a few seconds before Lady Bardess raised her voice to repeat, “Arrest those men. They’re horrible, perverted kidnappers.”
The policemen had already started forward, but their steps slowed when Sister Constance shouted, “No, not them! Arrest…arrest….” She suddenly seemed at a loss, glancing around with a fretful expression as though she wasn’t certain who should be arrested.
“If anyone is to be arrested, it should be you, Lady Bardess,” Max said, stepping away from Stephen and the children.
The children were loath to let him walk away from them, whimpering and reaching for him as he passed, as though he were their last hope and if he left, they were doomed. The sight broke Stephen’s already shattered heart. Calming a growing mob of mistreated and malnourished children was only one of their problems, though. He struggled to set Jane down, prying her hands off his neck.
“Can you keep them calm and organized?” he asked one of the older girls, even though she didn’t look calm herself. He glanced on to the painfully thin boy who had begged for Max’s help in the factory. “Keep everyone together. Protect the younger ones.”
It was enough of an order for the two young people to pull themselves together in an attempt to do as Stephen asked. A few more older children joined the efforts, leaving Stephen free to step away from the children and up to Max’s side as the confrontation continued.
“What possible business could you have here, unless it is connected to your family’s activities, Lady Bardess.” Max was in the middle of confronting the woman. He glanced to the police officers. “It’s no coincidence that this woman’s brother was arrested last week in connection with a ring of child kidnappers, or that her father has been implicated as well and gone missing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lady Bardess nearly screamed, her voice hysterical. “I…my brother is settling abroad and my father is with him. I merely came here to…to….” She floundered, her face growing redder by the moment.
She was saved by Sister Constance’s shout of, “Jerry!” She leapt forward, arms outstretched, as Jerry broke free of the huddle that the older children were trying to organize the youngsters into. Robbie worked his way out of the scrum as well. Both boys rocketed toward Sister Constance, throwing themselves into her arms. “Oh, my darlings, I’ve been so afraid for you,” Sister Constance wailed.
Stephen headed toward her, his instincts prompting him to comfort her if he could. “How did you know they were here?” he asked, slipping an arm around her shoulder.
“My sister showed up on my doorstep this morning and told me where you’d gone,” Sister Constance said in a hurry. “She said you might have discovered where the boys and your Jane were. How dare you leave to rescue them without taking me along?”
Her righteous anger was the first thing that felt right in the entire, mad day they were having. It settled Stephen and filled him with confidence. “We need to get these children to safety,” he told the police officers in a commanding tone. “We need to find out where they were each stolen from and return them to—”
“What is the meaning of this?”
Stephen was interrupted by the factory manager and clerk he and Max had encountered earlier charging onto the scene. They had at least a dozen men with them, all of whom looked as though they could win a prize fight. Their arrival meant that even with the police officers, Stephen, Max, and Sister Constance were outnumbered.
It was little consolation that the factory manager’s expression pinched into fear that went far beyond ordinary alarm at the sight of the dozens of children huddled together and the police officers. “Who are these children?” he stammered, his face going red.
A surge of energy shot through Stephen. The manager’s poor attempt to feign ignorance was all the proof he needed that the man was as guilty as sin. “There’s the man that should be arrested,” he told the police officers. “Arrested for holding these children against their will. I doubt that forced labor is the only reason they were snatched either.” He searched quickly around for the dark-haired young woman who had been dressed up like a tart. She was nowhere to be seen.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the manager said, unable to stay still or look at one person for more than a split-second. “This factory does not employ children. I’ll fetch the owner to prove it if you—”
“I don’t think I’m needed here,” Lady Bardess interrupted, attempting to turn and flee.
Max leapt forward and caught her by the wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Lady Bardess shrieked and tried her best to pull away. When she saw that Max wasn’t going to let her go, she burst into wailing sobs. “I don’t have anything to do with it, I swear. I don’t know anything.”
“Who are these men with you?” Max demanded.
“They’re the snatchers,” one of the older girls called from the group of children. Her face had gone completely white, and she stared at the two men with hollow, frightened eyes. “They show up, and we never see the ones they take ever again.”
“They’re solicitors,” Lady Bardess contradicted the girl in a high-pitched voice, her eyes wide. “Just my solicitors, that’s all.”
The two men exchanged anxious looks, twitching and scanning the area as though thinking of running. The police officers all seemed overwhelmed by the scene, glancing between the players as though they had no idea what to make of any of it. Stephen would have given anything for Wrexham to be there among them, but they were out of luck.
“These children need to be taken to safety,” Stephen said, grasping for some sense of control.
Before he finished, the factory manager shouted, “The lot of you need to get off this property before I call in the real police.”
“Yes, call the real police.” Lady Bardess wrenched away from Max at last, leaping toward the manager. “These men are kidnappers. They’ve stolen all these children for their
nefarious purposes.”
“They’ve done no such thing,” Sister Constance snapped. She glared at the police officers. “Don’t just stand there, arrest this woman and her accomplices.”
The Metropolitan officers didn’t move. They gaped at everyone and everything around them like clueless oafs. Every nerve in Stephen’s body frayed at the lack of action when it was clear as day to him what needed to be done.
“Enough of this,” the manager said at last. He sent the briefest of glances to one of Lady Bardess’s accomplices before stepping forward, motioning to the thugs behind him. “Back to work.”
Before Stephen could shout in protest, pointing out the contradiction of the manager claiming not to employ children, but then advancing on the poor things, everything erupted into chaos. The thugs hurried toward the crowd of children. The children screamed and wailed, breaking away from the tight knot the older ones had focused them into and scattering in all directions. The manager must have intended for exactly that to happen. He nodded to Lady Bardess’s accomplices, who instantly sprinted away from the scene.
“Stop them!” Stephen shouted. But no one listened.
It was complete pandemonium as the toughs from the factory chased the children across the vast expanse of the factory’s property. Stephen could see in an instant that none of them were actually trying to catch the children, only frighten them into scattering. The London policemen made a few, halting attempts to chase after the children or the men from the factory, but none of them followed the snatchers.
Max tried to go after them himself, but when Lady Bardess shouted, “Stop that man!” one of the Metropolitan officers lunged after Max, grabbing him and holding him to the spot.
“What are you doing? Let me go.” Max struggled and flailed in the man’s grasp.
Stephen started toward him, but another of the officers grabbed hold of him and held him to his place. “Get off of me,” Stephen shouted, elbowing the man in an attempt to break free.
He only succeeded in angering the officer, who clamped an arm tighter around him.
“Arrest him,” Lady Bardess shouted, surging forward. “He’s the kidnapper. He’s the one who has put these children in danger.”
“I have not,” Stephen said, struggling in the officer’s grip.
“He’s…he’s a filthy sodomite,” Lady Bardess yelped, then clapped her hands over her mouth as though she couldn’t believe her own daring.
Stephen felt the tension that suddenly washed over the officer holding him. “A what?” the man barked.
Lady Bardess’s eyes were bright with excitement as she drew her hands away from her mouth and squeaked, “He’s a sodomite. Wicked, filthy, and vile. He…he kidnapped these children to use for his own disgusting reasons. For him and for others like him. He should be hanged for his crimes.”
The officer jerked Stephen so hard he nearly lost his balance. “Is that true?” the man growled.
Deep dread filled Stephen’s gut. He glanced across the tumultuous scene to Max, who was fighting the officer who held him as best he could. No matter how Stephen answered, his fate was sealed. The best he could hope for was that Lady Bardess had even a shred of loyalty for her own class.
“I did not kidnap these children,” Stephen said, ending his struggle.
“I knew it.” Lady Bardess pointed a finger at him as though he’d admitted to everything. “He is the one who should be arrested. He should be locked up where he cannot hurt another child ever again.”
“Are you mad?” Sister Constance stepped forward, Jerry and Robbie clinging to her and impeding her progress. “Stephen Siddel is the kindest, most fatherly man I’ve ever met. He would never harm a hair on a child’s head. He won’t even take the switch to them when they deserve it.”
“He’s evil and vile and you know it,” Lady Bardess insisted. “You know what he is.”
“I….” Sister Constance’s jaw worked, but no more words came out. The truth was in her eyes. It was a surprise to Stephen that she knew fully who he was. He could tell by the look of regret she sent his way that she’d known all along, but not once had she said anything to him or called him out for his sins.
“Arrest him,” Lady Bardess demanded again. “Take him back to London and lock him away forever.”
“What about that one?” The officer holding Stephen gestured with his chin to Max.
“Him?” Lady Bardess’s face went pink as she turned toward Max. She wrung her hands and bit her lip as if trying to make up her mind what to do. “Lord Hillsboro is…he’s…he should be….”
“What do you think Lord Eastleigh would say if you caused his son to be arrested?” Stephen demanded. When Lady Bardess whipped back to face him, he stared hard into her eyes.
All the color drained from Lady Bardess’s face and she gulped. “Lord Hillsboro is my fiancé,” she said in a thready voice, looking at Stephen instead of any of the police officers. “I shall deal with him myself.”
It was the best Stephen could hope for. At least Max would remain free to continue the fight.
“I am not your fiancé,” Max said, breaking away from the officer holding him at last and charging toward Lady Bardess. “I don’t care what my father says, I could never marry a bitch like you.” He snapped his head toward Stephen. “Stephen is my—”
“Don’t be a daft fool, man!” Stephen shouted, more terrified of Max landing himself in as much hot water as he was in, than angry. “Get help.”
“That’s enough from you,” the officer holding Stephen said, jerking him hard enough to yank him off his feet and knock his spectacles off. As if for fun, the officer crunched his heel against the fallen spectacles, shattering one lens.
“Unhand him,” Max demanded marching forward.
“This is intolerable.” Sister Constance rushed forward as well.
“I’ll be all right,” Stephen told both of them. He glanced to Max, frustrated by his fuzzy vision. “Go back to London and tell my solicitor what’s going on.” He trusted that Max would know to contact David Wirth immediately.
“I’ll do more than that,” Max growled before turning to stride off.
“Where are you going?” Lady Bardess called after him. At least she didn’t follow.
“Take care of the children,” Stephen told Sister Constance. “Get them to safety.”
“Yes,” Sister Constance said with a nod, though she sounded deeply uncertain.
“Help the nun with the children,” the officer holding Stephen ordered the others. At least the dolt could do one thing right. “I’ll get this sorry sod on the road to where he belongs.”
The officer yanked Stephen into motion. Without his spectacles, it was hard to tell where exactly he was going. It hardly mattered, though. The man was Met police, meaning he would end up back in London, which was exactly where he wanted to be. It was getting there and what would happen once he was there that made Stephen nervous.
The journey back to London felt interminable for Max. More than anything, he’d wanted to stay by Stephen’s side and fight for him. It was agony walking away from the man that he loved more than life itself. And it had taken a tremendous leap of faith to run from the factory with so many of the children they’d tried to rescue scattered and still in danger. As he walked toward Leicester, finally managing to secure a ride with a passing tradesman, and purchased train fare, he had to constantly remind himself that Stephen was right to tell him to seek out David’s help and that Sister Constance was strong enough to stop at nothing until all of the children were safe.
All the same, the journey back to London was the most painful Max had had to make in his life. As much as he told himself to take the time to rest as the countryside sped past him, his mind and heart refused to stay still. As soon as the train pulled into St. Pancras Station, he shot off, dodging slower travelers in his haste to reach the street and hire a cab. Once in the cab, however, he did not head straight to the offices of Dandie & Wirth. He had a far more desperate err
and to run.
“You are responsible for this,” he shouted as he charged into his father’s study. He couldn’t stay away from the lion’s den, not when he knew his father was at least partially behind everything he’d witnessed in Leicestershire. “You unspeakable bastard.”
His father glanced up from the desk he sat behind, a banal look on his face. “What drivel are you spouting now, you miserable piece of excrement.”
Max pulled up short at the insult. He expected a war of words with his father, but the man’s cold look unnerved him. “Gretton Mills,” he spat. “I’ve just been there. I’ve seen the plight of those children. Don’t tell me you aren’t as deeply involved in this evil as Lord Chisolm is.”
His father didn’t reply. He merely stared back at Max with narrowed eyes. The silence was painful.
“I saw with my own eyes what has become of those missing children,” Max went on. “I saw the deplorable conditions they are working in, and I saw evidence of other sins they’ve been thrust into.” The image of the girl, Lily—the one who had told him to find her brother and tell him about the man with the lion—was burned in his mind. “If I find out that you’ve done more than simply mastermind this evil—” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His anger was too powerful.
His father put down the pen he’d been rolling between his fingers and narrowed his eyes at Max. “My business ventures are none of your concern,” he said.
Max gaped at him. “Children are being starved and abused. That will always be my concern.”
“Why?” his father asked with a shrug. “Because you are buggering that fag who fancies himself a father to legions of little girls? He’s more of a tart than any of his pitiful charges are.”
Rage at the layers of insults burned in Max’s stomach. “Stephen is a hundred times the man you are or could ever be.”
His father appeared unaffected by the statement. He continued to stare at Max in frosty silence for a few more seconds before sucking in a breath and sitting straighter. “Holmes,” he called in a deep, booming voice.