Not Quite a Duchess: A Sweet Victorian Gothic Historical Romance (The Boston Heiresses Book 1)

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Not Quite a Duchess: A Sweet Victorian Gothic Historical Romance (The Boston Heiresses Book 1) Page 14

by Ava Rose


  “She’s here, sleeping.”

  Pen let out a relieved breath. Two had been accounted for.

  “Good. Go back inside and lock this door. Don’t open it for anyone. Don’t open your windows either.”

  Alarm widened her eyes and she glanced nervously at Pen before asking, “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing. Only that this place is not very safe, especially for young ladies.”

  Her worried look quickly turned into a glare. “Then why did you bring us here?”

  “Rowena, dear, I am sure you remember the storm that drove us inside,” Hoffman replied, sounding irritated.

  “It is over now. We can leave.”

  A sigh of frustration escaped. “It is past three in the morning,” Hoffman said through clenched teeth. “Now do as I say. Go back in and lock your door.”

  She complied without further dissent just as the other door opened. A dark-haired woman, about Anna’s age, stepped out.

  “Alex, what’s going on?” she asked.

  Hoffman rushed to her and took her in his arms. “Sophia…”

  A large stone on her left hand glittered in the hall lamps and Pen determined her to be Hoffman’s fiancée.

  “This place is not very safe and I wanted to make sure you are all right,” he said, pulling away.

  She smiled and reassured him. “I am fine.”

  “Your sisters?”

  “Still sleeping soundly.”

  He kissed her forehead then. “Go back in and lock the door. Do not open it to anyone except me, or Rowena. Do you hear me?”

  The woman nodded, suddenly wide-eyed.

  “We will leave as soon as the sun is up. Now go, and don’t come out.”

  Pen had watched Hoffman and his fiancée’s interaction with Anna on his mind. He recalled Anna’s lovely face and her soft voice—when she was not censuring him—and tenderness stoked his heart. But then worry began to creep in. The Lexington Inn being of higher quality than this abode did little to allay his fears and he had to remind himself that Anna had a Colt with her and she was not a person to be trifled with. And now she had Libby—who was just as spirited—to support her.

  “My felicitations,” he said to Alexander after Sophia had disappeared.

  Hoffman’s grin was wide, no doubt the happiness of a man in love. “Thank you. The wedding will be in Spring and I am extending the first invitation to you.” He held out his hand and Pen automatically shook it. “Thank you for the warning. I will dress now and keep watch until morning.”

  Pen nodded. “Good. I must go after them now.”

  “Then I change my mind. I am coming with you. Allow me a minute to get into something appropriate and arrange for my man to watch the ladies instead.”

  Pen decided it would be worth having an extra person on his side, so he consented to wait. Hoffman reappeared shortly later, dressed rather haphazardly and holding a pistol. “Are you armed?”

  “Yes.”

  They crossed the hall to the stairwell. “How did you come to know about this scheme?”

  “One of them took my sister some days ago.”

  Hoffman stopped dead in his tracks, his expression horrified. “Tell me you’ve found her.”

  “I have.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “At the Lexington Inn with Duchess Wrexford. Lady Anna helped me find and rescue Elizabeth.”

  “Good Lord,” Hoffman said again. It seemed he was still somewhat in a state of shock. He clenched his jaw and gave Pen a determined look. “Let’s make sure these scoundrels pay for this.”

  Pen gave him further details on their way down. Hoffman was the first to reach the bottom of the stairs and someone crashed into him. It was Julius Crispin. Hoffman was a stocky man and the force of the impact sent the duty manager tumbling to the floor.

  “Sir, I saw him,” Julius said in a loud whisper.

  Hoffman eased from his defensive stance on seeing that Pen knew the man.

  “Where?” Pen asked.

  The manager struggled to his feet, panting. “He is in his chambers gathering his belongings. He plans to run.”

  With Julius leading them, they raced to Mr. Baker’s room, and sure enough, found him throwing clothes into a valise. When he saw them, he stopped packing and made for the window. Oh no, you don’t, Pen thought, and launched around the bed. He grabbed the man by his collar before tackling him to the ground.

  Since tying people up was fast becoming second nature to him, so to speak, he ordered the duty manager and Hoffman to find something with which to restrain Baker before dragging him to the bed and pulling him up into a sitting position beside a post. Pieces from a ripped shirt were handed over and he tied the man securely to the bedpost.

  He stepped away to catch his breath as Hoffman asked, “Who are those involved in the plan to kidnap the ladies in my party?”

  The man did not answer and Hoffman pulled out his pistol.

  “Please don’t shoot! I will tell you anything you want.”

  Just for the sake of it, Pen pulled out his revolver, too. “You’d better start talking, before one of us completely loses our patience.”

  The man started sobbing. “It was not my idea. It was Singer’s. He was hired by a Sir Anthony to kidnap a lady in Boston and he discovered he could kidnap young ladies and demand ransoms from their families.”

  “And you thought it would make you quick money, too, you greedy scum.” Pen seethed. He did not think himself particularly quarrelsome, but people appeared to be bringing out the worst in him lately.

  “We have aborted the plan, I swear!”

  “Who released Singer and Lily?” Pen asked.

  “It was me. I heard them calling when I entered the bar—”

  “Don’t ramble. Just answer the question.” Hoffman cut him off. “Where are they now?”

  “I don’t know. Once I heard we’d been found out I just wanted to leave.”

  “So you were going to abandon this place?” Pen asked.

  Baker shook his head. “I was going to return later, after things calmed down.”

  Pen shrugged. “Well, you are not going anywhere now.” Then he said to Hoffman, “Will you watch him while I search the building?”

  “I’ll watch him,” Hoffman confirmed.

  ***

  A sweep of all accessible rooms in the inn yielded nothing. Pen confirmed that James had found the maid and delivered her as directed to Anna. On his man’s return, they all waited in Baker’s room until it was light enough to send James out to fetch the police. When they arrived, Pen explained in detail what had happened and had to admit to a huge sense of relief when first Baker, and then the minister Anders, were arrested. The remaining thugs and the mysterious Sir Anthony still needed to be tracked down. The task was not beyond the police here in Lexington, but Pen felt the Boston Police Department might be marginally more capable. He couldn’t wait to collect Anna and his sister and return home.

  “I cannot thank you enough, Penforth,” Hoffman said as they watched the criminals taken away.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Please give my best to Lady Elizabeth and Lady Anna.”

  “I will.”

  The whole situation had seemed like it would never end, but victory was finally theirs. Pen could now take his beloved and sister home. After providing Julius with a hefty reward for his help he mounted his horse and began the short journey back to the Lexington Inn.

  It was fortunate that he was not riding fast because, as he approached a small house along the road, he watched a man attaching a satchel to the saddle of a horse. There was something about the man’s manner that hinted at furtive. Pen couldn’t put his finger on it, but his attention stayed on the man rather than glancing and dismissing as one would normally do. The man had blonde hair and a wide-brimmed hat that obscured his face, until he looked up and caught sight of Pen.

  Their eyes met and he saw recognition flare in the man’s face. Was this the
mysterious Sir Anthony? Just as Pen shifted direction and started to head toward him, the man launched himself onto his horse and whipped it into motion.

  Damn it! Pen chased him at full speed. His blood rushed, carrying the resolve to take down Sir Anthony Hart all the way through his body. He rode hard and fast, and his opponent did just the same. Pen started to gain some ground, until Sir Anthony pulled out a gun and wildly fired a shot at his pursuer.

  Pen grinned. Since everyone seemed to be going mad, he decided to join in the madness and pulled out his own firearm. He thought a warning shot might slow the man down or even deter him from shooting again, but it did not. Another loud blast that barely missed Pen’s ear caused his mount to suddenly rear up and almost unseat him.

  He maintained his tight grasp on the reins and gripped his legs against the horse’s body until it returned to four legs and began to calm. They were no longer moving. Sir Anthony quickly disappeared into the fog ahead. Whatever Pen did, he could not convince the horse to move while still on its back, so eventually he dismounted and walked it instead. By the time he reached the inn housing his loved ones, his bad leg hurt. A lot.

  ***

  The inn was already abuzz with early morning activity when Pen arrived and he went straight to Anna and Libby’s room.

  He heard Anna’s voice asking who it was.

  “It’s me, Anna. Let me in.”

  The door flew open and she flung herself into his arms. He held her tightly. She was trembling.

  “What is it?” He pulled away to look into her eyes.

  “I was so worried.”

  “For me?” A smile curved his lips and he pulled her back to him, cradling her head under his chin. “I am fine. The police have taken over now. Several of the perpetrators are now in custody.”

  “Thank God!” She looked up at him, with relief in her eyes. But the worry was still there, etched in her brows and around her mouth. “There is something you should see.” She led him into the room.

  Libby slid off the bed when he entered and handed him a paper from the vanity table. He read the words carefully: I am not finished with you!

  “Not long after you left, this was slipped under the door.”

  “It is in Sir Anthony’s hand,” Libby confirmed.

  “I saw him,” Pen said grimly, recalling his failed chase.

  “He’s been captured?” Anna asked hopefully.

  “Unfortunately not. He shot at me and scared my horse. There was no catching him. But I will see that the police track him down. And this threat?” He began ripping the paper. “No harm is going to come to either of you again. I promise.”

  Libby hugged him and Anna joined. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Marguerite sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment and she blushed.

  He asked for food to be brought up to the room and after they had all eaten, they got into the Armstrong-Leeds carriage and began the journey home. Libby and Marguerite sat on the front-facing seat while he and Anna shared the one opposite. He didn’t want her far from him. Not anymore. Once the carriage began moving, he leaned back and closed his eyes, finding some peace for the first time in nearly a week. Exhaustion settled in and he finally gave into it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sometimes life went by with ease and placidity, and sometimes it served hardship after hardship. Instead of giving the Armstrong-Leeds and the Trevallyn families a moment of reprieve after the anguish they had endured, it sent a scandal their way, and it did so with merry satisfaction.

  The scene that welcomed them as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Armstrong-Leeds house almost sent Anna into shock. There was a huge crowd gathered; gossipy aristocrats, curious passersby, and vulture-like reporters.

  She was certain that right now there was nothing quite as diverting as the story they were after. And until a bigger story came out, this was their life now.

  A man pointed to their carriage—it was rather unmistakable with the family crest emblazoned so boldly—and cried, “They have returned!” The mob surrounded the carriage, yelling at the top of their lungs.

  Libby buried her face in her hands while Marguerite’s eyes widened with fear. Not the best first impression of Boston, Anna supposed. Pen cursed under his breath and pushed his head through the window.

  “Get away! Move!” He shouted over the din.

  Anna pulled him back inside. He could get hurt. He rapped on the carriage roof, but the driver could not move, at least not without running someone over.

  “What are we going to do?” Anna asked, trying to keep calm. She reached forward and gave Libby’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

  “Let us wait for a bit,” Pen suggested. “Someone will be out to clear the way in a moment, I am sure.”

  Fortunately, he was correct. Anna snuck a peek out the curtained window and watched as a small army of footmen emerged from the side of the house carrying hunting rifles. Like magic, the crowd dispersed somewhat, allowing the footmen to clear a path leading up to the front door of Pen and Libby’s Boston home.

  They alighted quickly, Anna throwing a protective arm over the young maid who was trembling. As they marched up the steps and into the house, the crowd surged back, ad questions were thrown at them from every which way.

  “Is it true that Lady Elizabeth eloped?”

  “Can we get an interview for The Brahmin Times?”

  “Is she married now?”

  “Who is the husband?”

  “Was she kidnapped?”

  Libby covered her ears and ran, and Anna ushered Marguerite inside as quickly as she could.

  Finally, they were safe within the walls of the house where the raucous crowd couldn’t reach them. Christiana came running into the hall with her arms open wide. Anna had never seen a happier mother.

  “Libby! Oh, Libby!” She took her daughter into her arms and peppered Libby’s face with kisses. “My darling girl!” She was crying now and Mary joined them, also hugging and crying. Anna felt her eyes pooling too so she looked away.

  Pen’s hand found hers and he leaned close and whispered, “We did well, did we not? We make a good team.”

  She grinned. It was the first time he’d acknowledged her as being his equal and it delighted her no end.

  “Pen, Anna,” Christiana interrupted her musing. “Thank you for bringing her home to me.” Then she embraced them one after the other.

  Pen turned to Anna. “Get yourself settled. I am going to take care of the drama outside.”

  “All right.”

  She was so exhausted every part of her body ached, but it appeared as though her exhaustion was nowhere near as deep as his. His limp was more pronounced, his jaw was shadowed with stubble and the left side of his face where Singer had hit him was purple with bruising. But he looked happy. That stern brooding countenance was somehow more approachable.

  Perhaps she had done that, or partly so. It would be splendid indeed if she had contributed to his newfound happiness. He had certainly created a bloom of new feeling within her own heart.

  "Ma'am?" Someone called her.

  She turned to find Marguerite wringing her hands and looking lost.

  "Oh, Marguerite! Forgive me."

  The girl smiled tremulously. "It is all right. I..." She stopped suddenly and shrugged, and Anna realized she was lost as to what to do or where to go now that she was in Boston.

  The other ladies had disappeared upstairs already, so Anna motioned for Antoine.

  "What do you want to do?" Anna asked the girl.

  She smiled shyly. "I was hoping I could be in your employ, ma'am."

  She wanted security, poor thing.

  "Of course, you can stay with me as long as you wish. This is not my house, however. I live just a short distance away and when the crowd clears we can go there. In the meantime..."

  She gestured to Antoine who had been waiting for her instruction. "This is Marguerite. In the future she will be in
my employ, but for today she is a friend. Please see that she's taken care of while we're here."

  He bowed to Anna. "As you wish, Your Grace."

  ***

  After a hot bath and a delicious lunch, Anna felt much better. She borrowed a dress of cream and green from Libby and dressed herself, for once deciding to ditch a corset entirely. She was not in the mood to suffer any constraint.

  “Anna,” Libby called from the bed where she was rearranging the pillows behind her to make them more comfortable.

  “Yes?” Anna looked up from tying the laces of her boots.

  “You and Pen…”

  Anna smiled at her friend, feeling her cheeks warming.

  “When did it happen?” Libby’s eyes gleamed, and Anna realized immediately that she had her friend’s blessing.

  “It happened while we were searching for you. When we finally acknowledged our feelings, however, we realized that we’ve wanted each other for a long time, but have both been too foolish and stubborn to admit it.”

  Libby burst into delighted laughter. “That is so like you and Pen. You are both too headstrong for your own good. It will be an interesting match, to say the least.”

  “I love him,” Anna admitted, sitting beside Libby on the bed.

  She was folded into a prolonged sisterly embrace. Finally, Libby let her go and said, “I am sure he loves you, too.” She pulled away then and gave Anna a funny look. “I knew something was up with him. Did you know, he has never missed any of your social events.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t realize that until he mentioned it.”

  Libby’s eyes took on a dreamy cast. “This is so romantic.”

  Anna nodded, feeling her cheeks grow even warmer than before.

  “All our talk about never getting married,” she began, then stopped, appalled. “Oh, Libby, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine,” Libby assured her. “Pen will help ensure the annulment, and then…sisters for real!”

  Anna chuckled self-consciously. “He hasn’t actually asked, yet.”

  Libby smacked her gently on the arm. “Of course, he will! And I hope you’ll say yes when he does!”

  “I wouldn’t have admitted my feelings to him otherwise.”

 

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