The Marquess's Stolen Vow: A Regency Romance, page 9
Which was why he was greatly displeased with Lady Eleanor’s determination to help him.
“Here we are, then.” With a nod, Lord Preston gestured to the house. “Are you quite ready?”
Rupert looked down at the money again and then sighed. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Preston’s lips quirked. “You know, I am sure, that she was never going to be set back from this. It is quite clear to me that she still cares for you very deeply, brother.”
“As I care for her,” Rupert answered, as they both climbed down from the carriage. “But I must protect her. I want her to do nothing other than to stay back from it all, but she will not.”
“Because of what could be taken from her, if this does not come to an end,” his brother replied, setting one hand on his shoulder for a moment. “I do hope you are grateful for such a devotion, brother. It is rare indeed.”
Rupert swallowed hard, said nothing, and walked towards the house, telling himself not to look over his shoulder even though that was all he desperately wanted to do. Yes, he did value what he had in his connection with Lady Eleanor, for if it had not been so very precious, then he would not feel the loss of it so keenly.
“Do you think her carriage is there?” he asked, as Preston shrugged. “I do not like this plan.”
“It is a good plan!” his brother protested, as Rupert grimaced. “Lady Eleanor will sit in her carriage and watch what takes place. Thereafter, she will return to the ballroom and tell us all.”
“Unless,” Rupert replied, worry biting at his heart, “unless she decides to do something very foolish indeed… which I pray she will not.”
Preston frowned. “Foolish? By that you mean…?”
“That she will follow whoever takes the money,” Rupert answered, as they stepped inside. “And will come to harm because of it.”
“Cousin, there you are.” Rupert tried to smile as he shook his cousin’s hand and then looked to the lady beside him. “Good evening, cousin Emma. Might I say that you look quite resplendent this evening.” This was not the conversation Rupert wanted to have, but given that he had not yet spent long in the company of his cousins, he felt obliged to speak with them both. “You are dancing this evening, yes?”
“I am. My dance card is entirely taken up this evening!” Emma smiled at him, although Rupert caught the slight grimace that appeared on Lord Howerton’s face. “In fact, you must excuse me, for I am now to dance with Lord Helensburgh and I can see him approach.”
“But of course.” A little relieved, Rupert waited for her to take her leave and then turned back to Howerton. “It is good to have you alone for a few minutes. My brother and I were hoping to speak with you this evening.”
“Oh?” Glancing from Rupert to Lord Preston, Lord Howerton frowned. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, no.” Rupert, aware that his voice sounded strange in its overly light-hearted tone, looked to Preston. “Nothing at all.”
Preston rolled his eyes, conveying to Rupert that he had gone a little too far in his attempt to be delicate about this particular situation. “You must forgive Finchley. He is a little… well, truth be told, we are both a little concerned about a particular matter. Might we ask you something?”
“Of course.” Lord Howerton’s frown deepened. “I do hope there is nothing overly concerning.”
“Do you have anyone against you, Howerton?” Rupert leaned closer so as not to be overheard. “Is there anyone against any of you?”
“Against us?” Another familiar voice had Rupert turning, seeing Baron Wishart, brother to Lord Howerton, standing behind him. “Goodness, whatever is this about?”
Rupert stepped back and welcomed his cousin into the conversation. “Good evening, Wishart. I was asking your brother – and now yourself also – if you know of anyone who might wish to cause you or this family harm in some way.”
Lord Wishart’s eyes flared. “Harm? No, indeed not.”
Lord Howerton shook his head as Rupert looked back at him. His own shoulders slumped as he let out a heavy breath. There was no answer here, then, for they had both just informed him that there was none they knew who might wish them harm. That meant that the perpetrator remained just as much encased in mist and shadow as before.
“Why do you ask?” Lord Howerton wanted to know. “You are concerned about something, as Lord Preston has just said.”
Rupert, choosing not to go into any particular detail, shrugged lightly. “It is nothing of consequence, truly.” He did not want to speak honestly about the situation, thinking it best to make certain as few people as possible knew the truth. “How do things fare with your sister? She clearly has done well thus far, given her dance card is so very full!”
Changing the subject seemed to bring a fresh light to Lord Howerton’s eyes, though Lord Wishart scowled. “She is doing very well, I must say. She has many suitors and – ”
“Though she favors one she ought not to,” Lord Wishart added, the reason for his scowl now apparent. “I have told her many a time, but she will not be dissuaded.”
“I shall not permit the match, of course,” Lord Howerton said, with a shrug. “But Wishart is quite correct; her insistence upon that particular gentleman is somewhat frustrating, especially when she has so many other suitors!”
Lord Preston chuckled. “I am very glad that I do not have a sister to marry off, given that our own dear sister is now happily married and quite settled.”
“It was not a match of her choosing, but it has done her very well. Lord Nottingham is an excellent fellow and cares for her dearly. I think she is quite contented, truth be told.”
“I have told Emma that,” Lord Howerton replied, with a heavy sigh. “I believe that your sister and mine have been exchanging the occasional letter, as cousins do, so Emma is well aware of Rebecca’s contentedness. All the same, however, she seems quite determined to accept the attentions of this Lord Wigton.”
Rupert frowned. “I do not know him.”
“That is because he is a gentleman who has not only a poor fortune but poor judgment,” Lord Wishart told him. “He bears the title of Viscount, but his behavior does not resemble that of a gentleman. He has become fixed upon Emma solely because she thinks him very handsome and returns his attentions when many others do not! They know that he is foolish with his money, that he gambles much too frequently and does nothing by way of caring for his estate or his family.”
A frown tugged at Rupert’s eyebrows. “Why, then, does she think so well of him?”
Lord Howerton rolled his eyes. “She believes herself in love with him. I am sure there have been one or two stolen kisses when myself or my brother were absent from her side for a few moments. I dislike the gentleman greatly and have informed him that I will never accept his offer of courtship, but all the same, he continues to draw near her.”
Rupert grimaced. “That is unfortunate.”
“You will have to take care she does not elope!” Lord Preston’s words had Lord Wishart and Lord Howerton exchanging a quick glance. “I have heard that those who think themselves in love can be quite determined with it, refusing to listen to reason and the like.”
“She is dancing at present,” Lord Howerton said, beginning to walk away from them all at once. “But you are quite right, Lord Preston. Excuse me.”
“And I should do my duty also, as her responsible brother,” Lord Wishart added, with a nod. “Enjoy the evening.”
Rupert watched them both take their leave, feeling a tightness in his chest that he could not seem to push away. Their conversation had yielded nothing to him, and now he felt as if he were swimming in a cold, icy lake with no hope of ever finding land. Would he be obliged towards this person forever, forced to give them every single penny they wanted until he had no coin left? Dropping his head, he rubbed one hand over his eyes, trying to think clearly and refusing to let fear take complete control of him.
“Brother, look!”
Lifting his head sharply, Rupert turned his gaze in the direction his brother was pointing. To his utter relief and joy, he saw Lady Eleanor walking, arm in arm with Lady Catherine, looking entirely unharmed and with a delighted smile on her face. Their eyes met, and Rupert felt himself near glow with the joy of simply watching her approach.
“Lord Preston, good evening.” She smiled first at his brother and then looked to him. “Lord Finchley.”
“My dear Eleanor,” he breathed, heedless to whoever was around him as his brother pressed a kiss to the back of Lady Catherine’s hand. “Thank goodness you are quite all right. What happened?”
Her smile still lingering, she tilted her head and, bringing her arm round from behind her back, handed him the small bag that contained the money. “I was able to secure this,” she said, as Rupert’s breath swirled in his chest, shock rushing through him. “Your money, Lord Finchley. It is all quite safe.”
13
Earlier that evening.
Eleanor shifted in her seat, Catherine beside her. “I am sorry that your mother is not feeling particularly well but I must say, it has made this adventure a little easier.”
“Indeed it has.” Catherine’s voice was higher than usual, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “I know that we are only sitting in the carriage, but I must confess that I find myself quite anxious.”
“There is nothing to worry about,” Eleanor reassured her, quickly. “Look, there is Lord Finchley’s carriage. Watch now.” Her heart began to quicken as Lord Finchley and his brother stepped out, with Lord Preston putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Her heart leapt upwards at the sight of her beloved, wishing that she could leap out of the carriage and, in the darkness of the London street, throw herself into his arms just as she had done so many times before… but was denied at present. A small sigh broke from her lips as she watched them walk away, wondering if he would look over his shoulder to see if she was nearby.
He did not.
“They cannot give any sign that we are present,” Catherine murmured, as if she could read all of Eleanor’s thoughts. “They must continue on their way.”
“Yes, you are quite correct.” Closing her eyes, Eleanor gripped the bottom of the carriage seat, trying to contain both her own nervousness and anticipation about what was to come. Leaving the ball had been easy enough, for her father had permitted herself and Catherine to take a turn about the room together, while he went in search of some fine French brandy. Eleanor had every expectation that he would not remember their presence until they returned, although they could not take too long.
The carriage rolled forward, the driver following after Lord Finchley’s carriage as he had been instructed. Eleanor held her breath as they came to a stop, relieved that there was still enough light from both the full moon and the flickering lanterns for her to see by.
“You are not going to step out, are you?” Catherine whispered, as Eleanor nodded. “You cannot, Eleanor! You will be – ”
“I have a plan,” Eleanor broke in, taking her cousin’s hand and pressing it. “Trust me, my dear cousin. When we see someone approach, we must step out of our own carriage and quickly make our way towards Lord Finchley’s. It is only a small distance away. All will be well.”
Catherine, her eyes rounded, said nothing but looked out of the window instead, leaving Eleanor to do the same. Quite how long they sat there for, Eleanor did not know – but all thought of the ball and her father was quickly forgotten. Instead, she thought of Lord Finchley, of the threat he was under and about his sister… and what would become of them all should news get out about her child.
“There.”
Catherine nudged her, and Eleanor’s breath caught in her chest, seeing a small figure stepping out from the other side of the street. She could not make them out, but seeing them begin to approach the carriage, reaching for the door, she quickly stepped out herself.
“Do come along!” she exclaimed loudly, walking towards Lord Finchley’s carriage with hastened steps and hoping that Catherine was following behind. “It must be this one, I am sure of it!”
The figure ahead of her stopped at once, the door of the carriage now pulled open.
“Goodness, you quite frightened me!” Eleanor put one hand to her heart as Catherine followed after her. “Forgive me, I have left something… well, something of note in another carriage, and I cannot seem to locate it. The carriage, that is.”
The person stepped back from the carriage but said nothing, and Eleanor, her eyebrows lifting, saw that it was nothing more than a young man – a young man who was not dressed in any sort of finery.
“Is this your master’s?” Catherine, coming to stand beside Eleanor, shook one hand in the young man’s face. “You are not here to steal from these fine carriages, are you?”
“What else can I do, miss?” The fellow dropped his head but began to step back, moving away from them. “I am ever so hungry and these rich folks… well, sometimes there’s something that might get me some food.”
Catherine tossed her head. “And you thought to approach this carriage?” she asked as Eleanor let out an exclamation of what she hoped sounded like shock. “Would you have come for my own one next?”
“No, miss, I promise you, I – ” Without warning, the young man turned on his heel and ran off into the darkness, leaving Eleanor and Catherine alone. Eleanor made to shut the door of the carriage, only to frown and pause. Then, after a moment, she looked back at Catherine, speaking in a loud voice.
“I think we should make quite certain there is nothing in this carriage that has any value, for fear that it will be taken. What if that thief should return?”
“Quite,” Catherine agreed, taking hold of the idea swiftly. “Is that not the driver? He must be quite deaf not to have heard that fellow approaching!”
“He was very quiet,” Eleanor replied, hoping that whoever that young man had been, he was now listening to every word. “Driver, to whom does this carriage belong?”
Within a few moments – and with as loud a conversation as they could manage without appearing as if to shout – Eleanor and Catherine returned swiftly to the ball, the bag with money held tightly in Eleanor’s hand. Her heart had been beating at a furious pace for the last few minutes, but a big, bright smile spread across her face as she stepped inside.
“We did very well, I think,” Catherine breathed, as the light and the laughter of the ballroom welcomed them back in. “I am sure that the thief will think it nothing but a mistake, an unexpected interruption.”
“And Lord Finchley’s money is quite safe,” Eleanor added, looping her arm through her cousin’s. “I only wish that we were able to offer Lord Finchley more.”
“I think he will be very grateful for what we have achieved,” Catherine said firmly. “Look, now, there he is… and there is Lord Preston with him.”
Hearing the warmth that flooded Catherine’s voice at the mention of Lord Preston, Eleanor hid her smile, set her hand with the bag of money behind her back, and then moved directly towards the two gentlemen. The moment Lord Finchley saw them, Eleanor’s heart leapt at the tenderness and the relief in his eyes. He took a step towards her but then stopped, permitting them to make their way towards them instead of rushing forward as she knew he wanted to.
“Lord Preston, good evening.”
“My dear Eleanor,” he responded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Thank goodness you are quite all right. What happened?”
Tilting her head just a little, she brought her other arm back around, revealing to him the money. “I was able to secure this,” she said, as shock wiped the color from his face in a moment. “Your money, Lord Finchley. It is all quite safe.”
He took it gingerly, as if he could not quite believe that she had it safe. “How… how could it be?”
“We pretended that we were looking for something and came upon the thief just as he was opening your carriage,” Catherine told them, as Eleanor nodded. “I do not think that he had any awareness that we were doing so purposefully.”
Lord Finchley looked down at the bag, then shook his head. “Goodness, I do not know what to say. I am relieved that you are both quite all right and grateful indeed that you stopped them from taking this bag. It will not be long before they require the coin again, however.”
“But it gives us a little time to ascertain who it is that desires to steal your wealth in such a way,” Eleanor said, as Lord Preston nodded fervently. “That can only be a good thing.”
With a deep breath, Lord Finchley smiled at her. “You are quite right.”
“I do wish that we could tell you we recognized a gentleman and we knew precisely who it was, but I am afraid there was no gentleman there this evening.” Eleanor’s spirits dipped. “There was a young man at your carriage, but he was dressed very poorly and made it appear as if he wanted to find some coin to buy himself some food.”
Lord Finchley’s lips pursed, his brow furrowing. “Whoever is behind this is clearly unwilling to do such a thing himself.”
“It seems as if they are willing to use the poorer class to gain what they want.” Catherine spread out her hands. “It protects them also, does it not?”
“Because there is so little chance for us to discover their true identity, yes,” Eleanor said, with a small sigh. “But there is something in what we have discovered, at least. Did you have any information from your cousins that might be of use?”
With a wry smile, Lord Finchley shook his head. “Save for the fact that my cousin is, evidently, unwilling to give up the pursuit of one particular gentleman, no. They have no enemies they know of.” His smile faded. “Which means we are still in great difficulty.”
Eleanor frowned. “From what we have learned, there must be something more we can do.”
