A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3)

by Rebecca Connolly

  Lady Lavinia laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “I am not here with my husband, you great fool. And you know better than to send for a servant. This is no social call.”

  “Is it not?” he clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her as if only a little curious.

  Her painted lips pursed slightly. “Let me ask you this, my lord. Do you always come home to such abject darkness?”

  Malcolm looked around a little. “Not particularly, but my son has been known to play a joke or two, and the servants tend to indulge him. I expect to be pounced upon the moment I get close enough to his hiding place.”

  “I think you will be looking for quite some time.” She offered an utterly superior smile that set his teeth on edge.

  “No doubt, no doubt,” he agreed with a sage nod. “My oldest is quite adept at hiding. I have no idea where he learned such things.”

  “Probably from me,” Fritz’s voice answered in warm tones as he appeared in the room, all ease and friendliness. “I am his godfather, after all.” He grinned at Lady Lavinia and gave her a low bow. “Lovely to see you, my lady.”

  Lady Lavinia considered Fritz with open admiration, and no small amount of derision. “Lord Rothchild. I hadn’t thought to have you come in here along with Monty. Surely cowering in the hall is more like you.”

  Fritz shrugged. “Usually. But Monty’s house is so blasted cold at the moment, I fancied being closer to the fire.”

  He and Malcolm shared a smile, as if this were all some very fine joke.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me?” she asked, sounding rather petulant.

  “Ask you what, my lady?” Malcolm asked, tilting his head, his hands still clasped behind him.

  Her thin brows knitted a little. “How I knew about your little spy game.”

  “Spy game?” Malcolm echoed with a frown. “I’m not aware of any spy game.” He looked at Fritz, still frowning. “Did you start another game with Archer without telling me?”

  Fritz shook his head, making a face. “Not one involving spies. He’s always preferred military over covert. I did send him a letter spelling out the failures of the British army in the battle in the Americas, but other than that…”

  “Don’t toy with me!” Lady Lavinia snapped, rising from her chair. “I know that the pair of you are covert operatives working with the Crown! You have been intercepting letters for months to try to solve the puzzle my associates and I have laid out, and now you are here because somehow you broke the code!”

  Malcolm blinked, keeping his emotions at bay, ignoring the rising tension within him. “Covert operatives?”

  Fritz barked a hard laugh. “You think Monty is a spy? Oh, Lady Lavinia, that is a story worthy of the gossip sheets if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “How else would you know to come here?” she demanded with a sneer.

  “It is my house,” Malcolm reminded her. “I’ve been gone for a few days and was fortunate enough to be able to return early. Lord Rothchild was anxious to see the children and came back with me.”

  “Liar!” she half shrieked. “I know all about your little operations, your league of cohorts in London. All of it! My husband has access to all the most sensitive information, and he is too great an idiot to hide any of the evidence! I know what you all have suspected him of, and we have used that greatly to our advantage! Why do you think he has suddenly become so important as to warrant your attention? Who has been making it easy to examine his dealings and his activities? I hold all the cards, gentlemen, and I have been playing a beautiful hand.”

  Fritz tsked slightly, shaking his head. “Dear Lady Lavinia, have you been abusing your husband’s position of power? For shame, that is badly done indeed. I have no authority in the government, to be sure, as I am only a dignitary now, but if I did, your confession just now would land you into a great deal of trouble. But how could you think that Monty would be party to such operations, should they exist?”

  “He is!” she insisted. “You know he is! Get in here!” she suddenly barked, looking behind them.

  Four very large men dressed in dark clothing entered, and three came to stand behind them while one stood by the door.

  “See here,” Malcolm protested, oddly not feeling in any way pressured by them and still maintaining his proper demeanor. “You are all entering my house without permission. That is trespassing and is a punishable offense. I am a magistrate, and I will be obliged to act.”

  “You are a bloody spy!” Lady Lavinia spat. “You came riding up just now with a party of men in response to the letters you intercepted!”

  Malcolm shook his head slowly. “Lady Lavinia,” he sighed sadly, giving her a pitying look, “has my spurning of your repeated offers to be my lover, and all the physical attentions you’ve attempted, truly driven you to this?”

  He hit a mark, he could see it in the slight flicker across her furious features. The men behind him shifted restlessly, darting confused glances at each other.

  “Intercepting letters?” He made a disapproving noise. “That is also a punishable offense, and I would never do anything so intolerably rude. The men I rode in with are fine members of the local militia. They had just finished their monthly drills and saw fit to escort me home, as I am their superior officer when in residence. I thought my children would find the spectacle amusing.”

  Now the men were muttering to each other and eying Lady Lavinia with suspicion.

  “You should have taken me when you had the chance!” she half shrieked. “I would have given you everything and kept your every secret!”

  “I have no secrets,” he assured her, trying for a smile. “None at all. I am the most boring Englishman I have ever met, and I have no doubt you would have discovered that yourself.”

  “I’ll vouch for that,” Fritz chuckled. He glanced back at the men behind him. “He followed every single rule as a captain in the army. I’ve never met anyone so tiresome.”

  That drew a small chuckle from one of them.

  “Where are his mouse of a wife and the little brats?” Lady Lavinia demanded. “Where?”

  “We never found them, my lady,” the guard by the door replied, his tone indicating he was not altogether sure about her. “Nor any sensitive documents. Nothing in the study or any of the rooms. We’ve searched.”

  His servants had done the job correctly, then. He was never so careless as to leave anything lying around, but there were caches about in case of emergency. Either they had been hidden enough to avoid discovery or they had been emptied, as they ought to have been.

  “My house was searched, as well?” Malcolm asked with all the imperiousness he could muster. “Without my consent or permission? By what authority?”

  The men behind him looked slightly ashamed. “She said…” one of them offered, trailing off uncertainly. “Well, you see…”

  “Monty,” Fritz broke in firmly, “I do believe you must take action. Clearly, there have been crimes committed against you and your home, and if you will permit me to call for your fine militiamen, I shall see these men apprehended until the truth will out. And,” he leveled an utterly superior look at Lady Lavinia, “Lady Lavinia will be escorted back to London, and held under guard at Bow Street until the proper measures may be taken.”

  The men all nodded in agreement, obviously not entirely convinced that the woman who had led them here had done so for the right reasons. What part they had played in the scheme would remain to be seen, but playing on their doubts was only too easy.

  “I agree, Fritz,” Malcolm answered easily, staring down his nemesis. “Perhaps these fine men might be able to shed some light on how Lady Lavinia managed to persuade them into such lawlessness.”

  Fritz gave a short whistle and some of their men appeared, dressed in the garb of Malcolm’s stable hands. “Will you fellows kindly escort these men and this… lady… out to the front until the militia comes? And one of you ride to inform them, eh? We’ll need a carriage for the lady.”

  T
wo of the men came in to escort out a sputtering Lady Lavinia, while her men traipsed outside obediently. They had either been trained enough to avoid unnecessary trouble, such as causing a stir at an earl’s home, or they truly had no idea of the true nature of their assignment. They would know soon enough, however. Once taken to Bow Street, they would know indeed.

  “You just try to imprison me!” Lady Lavinia shrieked, her face contorting. “I won’t say anything, not a single word! You’ll see! J’ai vecu!”

  J’ai vecu. I lived. That phrase alone would have given him cause to have her incarcerated and questioned. It was a phrase they knew to be used by the traitors and sympathizers of the faction, as well as members of the faction itself. He doubted that Sieyès had intended his memorable line from the inquest into the French Revolution to take hold with such force, but this group had made it their battle cry, it seemed, and Lady Lavinia Herschel could now be counted among those ranks.

  Malcolm did not wait to see the woman carried out, as she undoubtedly would need to be, given her squawking in indignation. He didn’t care. He strode from the room with a brief nod at her, and turned down the hall, Fritz hot on his heels.

  “Where are they?” he hissed to Fritz.

  “No idea,” he replied. “The house has been searched. We’ll go out to the grounds.”

  Malcolm nodded, allowing himself to feel the panic that had been welling. Lady Lavinia didn’t have his family, but that did not mean they were safe. He had no idea how many men she had brought; there could be more on the grounds, and those had not been persuaded that Lady Lavinia was a jilted lover with a taste for vengeance.

  “I didn’t see that coming,” Fritz muttered behind him. “This is not going to go over well up the ranks.”

  No, it most definitely was not. Mr. Herschel would be investigated thoroughly for any part in his wife’s treachery, and likely be forced to give up his position in Parliament. The fallout could be immense.

  He would think about all that later… if he remembered to.

  Gent, Rogue, and Rook were waiting for him just outside the house, having rounded up some of his servants.

  “Beth and the children left the house some time ago,” Rook reported just as Malcolm opened his mouth. “Your footmen saw them safely escorted into the woods. Two more are still in hiding somewhere around, we haven’t attempted to reach them yet.”

  Malcolm stared at the woods intently, as if he could somehow penetrate them and find his family.

  Rogue stepped forward with a nod. “The rest of the enemy has been rounded up, we believe, and Gaines is leading a group back to the city with them in custody. We still have four of your local contacts scouring the grounds.”

  Malcolm nodded almost frantically, his emotions growing harder and harder to control.

  “Hudson, Mrs. Rawlins, and Mrs. Franklin had the maids with them in the gamekeeper’s cottage,” Gent told him. He smiled a little. “Hudson apparently shot two men and is quite pleased.”

  “I expect so,” Malcolm managed.

  Fritz clapped a hand on his shoulder. “To the woods, then, Cap. The sun will be gone soon, and your children will be getting cold.”

  Malcolm was already moving before his friend had finished, his gaze having never left the trees. He was all-out running before he knew what he was about. “Beth!” he bellowed as he neared them. “Beth, can you hear me? Beth!”

  They spread out, each of them calling for the children and for Beth, and no answers were coming. He happened upon one of his footmen, who seemed relieved to see him and returned to the house on his orders, after pointing him in the direction his family had gone.

  The sun dipped beyond the horizon, and with it his vision. One of the others had had the foresight to bring a lantern. It was close enough to allow him to see a bit further into the gloom, though he was beginning to think they would need to light torches and roust the entire village to find them.

  “Beth!” he called again, his voice almost breaking as he looked around him.

  Just then, there was a rustling in the brush to his left. He stopped, holding his hand out to halt the others.

  A lean figure appeared through the leaves, dressed in oversized trousers, boots, and a coat, her fair hair braided and littered with twigs. A pistol trembled in one hand and her eyes were wide and terrified, almost eerie in the faint light of the lantern as she stared at him in disbelief, her jaw tightly clenched.

  Malcolm couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, all his abilities suddenly consumed by a choking sensation in his throat and chest.

  Beth wet her lips a little. “Well,” she managed to announce in a shaking voice, “you can come out now, children. The… the surprise I promised is here.”

  On that cue, four smaller figures pushed through the brush with squeals of delight, which only grew when they caught sight of Malcolm.

  “Papa!” they all shrieked, running at him and slamming their little bodies against his legs.

  Malcolm dropped to his knees, hugging and kissing each one of them repeatedly, fighting the tears that were rising within him.

  “Bitsy played such a fun game with us!” Archer was saying, pounding Malcolm on the shoulder. “We were so quiet, and we heard all kinds of things!”

  “I was the quietest!” Jane told him proudly.

  “Were not!” Archer argued.

  “I found a flower!” Greer told him, ignoring the other two and showing it to him.

  “The ground was cold, but I liked it,” Samuel said.

  Malcolm smiled and laughed and tried to say something to each, but his eyes kept travelling to Beth. She stood there watching him, not smiling, but fixed on him with an intensity that struck him to the core.

  The pistol shook more tremulously in Beth’s hand and Rook, thinking quickly, moved to her at once and pried it gently from her hold. She shook herself and looked up at him, finally managing a wan smile.

  “What about hugs for us?” Gent demanded, putting his hands on his hips. “How long has it been since Uncle Rafe received a hug?”

  “Or me?” Fritz countered.

  The children giggled and ran to each of them, and even Rogue swept one of them up with a whoop of delight, and Rook watched it all with a wide grin. “I need an introduction to these brave children!” he demanded. “I want to be an uncle, too!”

  Malcolm ignored all of them, still kneeling on the ground, staring in agony at his wife.

  Beth stared back, her jaw quivering slightly, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Introductions back at the house, I think!” Fritz announced too quickly, eying the pair of them. “Mrs. Rawlins will be ordering a fine dinner, and we can eat dessert first, if you run fast enough.”

  They all left with remarkable haste, leaving Malcolm and Beth alone, their voices fading in the distance.

  Slowly, painfully, Malcolm got to his feet. Beth watched him, her breathing growing more unsteady. He stared at her in wonder. She had been alerted to the danger and dressed in his clothing to make her venture easier and had turned the whole thing into a game for the children. Somehow, she had avoided showing any hint of fear while lying hidden in the forest with a loaded pistol she likely had no idea how to fire. She had been prepared to give her life for his children.

  He had thought his wife an incredible woman before, but now…

  She was nothing short of magnificent.

  “Malcolm?” she whispered as one tear rolled down her cheek.

  He was to her in the space of a heartbeat, sweeping her into his arms and pulling her trembling frame against him.

  “Oh, my love,” he rasped as he shuddered with relief and pain. “Oh, Beth, I’m so sorry.”

  Her arms clenched a tight grip around him and she gave way to her tears in full. “Malcolm, you’re here…”

  He kissed her head quickly, pulling back to rain kisses across her cheeks and nose, her hair, her brow, anything he could reach. “I’m here, love. I’m here. I’m so sorry, I had no idea…”


  Beth shook suddenly and fisted his shirt in her hand as a sob broke free. “I missed you so much, and I was so afraid…”

  Malcolm groaned and took her face in his hands, kissing her hard as a tear or two fell from his own eyes. “I love you,” he told her with all the fervor and intensity he could manage. “I love you, Beth. I swear to you, I’ll never leave you alone again, never… I’m so sorry.”

  She silenced his rambling with a fierce kiss that stirred his soul and humbled him beyond measure. “You love me?” she whispered against his lips, her disbelief making him ache.

  He winced and forced her to look at him. “I love you,” he said slowly, emphasizing every word. “I would have loved you had you never seen again. I would have loved you if you had never lost your sight. I would have loved you no matter what, I know that now. Loving you was the easiest thing I have ever done, and it was inevitable. I was always going to love you. I should have seen that from the start.” He smiled and ran a hand over her hair, then stroked her cheek. “I love you with a depth that terrifies and exhilarates me. I didn’t think I would ever love again, but here I am, weak at the knees and on the verge of tears for loving you. And if you can forgive me, if you can take pity on me, I will prove my love to you every day for the rest of our lives.”

  Beth beamed at him, then slid a hand up to cup the back of his head as she dragged his lips to hers again for a slow, maddening, breathtaking kiss.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  He touched his brow to hers, sighing. “Do you forgive me?”

  She nodded at once. “Absolutely. Do you forgive me for lying to you?”

  He kissed her nose softly. “I forgave you even as I was riding away, I was just too proud to turn around.” He exhaled in a rough noise. “But I should have. What happened tonight is my fault, too, and if I had been here, it might not have…” He shook his head and pulled back a little. “I’m a spy for the Crown, Beth. I have been for years.”

  Her brows rose in surprise, and her mouth curved in a smile. “Well, I didn’t quite expect that, but I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.” She laughed a little and linked both hands around his neck. “You’re probably one of the best, aren’t you?”