“No, my lord, we came to an… understanding, him and I. He is running illegal fights on the place and we reached an agreement of sorts. Believe me, Ellery’s tab is covered.”
“So, what happens next?” Drake asked.
“I’ll want a word with the young lady you spoke of before I decide what I’m going to do here,” Redmond replied. “Meanwhile, I’ve sent word up to London by messenger to warn the inmates at your townhouse. It will be watched.”
“Do you have any idea how fast the Andalusian breed can run?” Drake snapped.
Redmond shook his head.
“No, eh? Well, all I can say is, you’d best pray that your bloody messenger is endowed with a sturdy pair of wings.”
Twenty-one
Melly had her dinner on a tray in her sitting room, but that didn’t spare her an interview with Jasper Q. Redmond. He had Smithers summon her to the library for a private consultation, while Bradshaw joined Drake upstairs in his sitting room for brandy and cigars, since the doctor hadn’t yet given Drake leave to go down to the drawing room. The Runner sat in silence while she told him how she and Ellery met when she was delivering her cousin’s herbal remedies to the Terrill croft. She related what had occurred since—that Ellery seemed to shadow her, that she felt uncomfortable in his presence, that she never encouraged his attentions, and that he had made improper advances toward her one night in the library after he’d drunk too much wine, and she’d had to put him in his place.
“That was while his lordship was touring his properties?” he queried.
“Yes.”
“You and Ellery both left Drake’s Lair at about the same time,” the Runner mused.
“Look here, if you’re trying to insinuate that—”
“Nothing of the kind, Lady Ahern,” he cut in. “I’m simply setting a time frame here.”
“I left Drake’s Lair before Mr. Ellery was ejected, Mr. Redmond,” she said defensively, “and went to stay with the Tinkers until lodgings were available at the local boarding house. I no longer needed to take advantage of his lordship’s hospitality, now that I was financially independent. I didn’t see Mr. Ellery again until I went up to Truro to replace my wardrobe, which was lost in the fire at my cottage. We went up on the same mail coach.”
“And you spent the day together?”
“Hardly. Mr. Ellery insisted upon accompanying me as a gentlemanly gesture, which I protested. Continually. He simply would not take no for an answer. We returned on the same post chaise.”
“His lordship paints him as a sponger. He’s of the opinion that Mr. Ellery might have had designs on your funds, that he might have made overtures in that direction.”
“No. Well… possibly, now that I think about it. He left me for a time to tend to business. When he returned he had fallen into the dismals. He told me things hadn’t gone well. More than once, I saw him pouring over his money pouch when he thought I wasn’t looking. I think, looking back on it now, he may have been trying to entice me to inquire as to the nature of his dilemma. I did not, and he didn’t pursue it, but his black mood remained until we parted at the coaching station.”
“And you never saw him again?”
“No.”
“His lordship believes that you might be in danger from Ellery. He wants you to remain here under his protection until all this is settled, and I agree.”
“But, I don’t want to stay here. I want to get on with my life. As I told you, I’d planned to take a room at the boarding house in the village until his lordship raises a new cottage on the land he purchased from me. I am to have first option to lease it if I wish. I haven’t decided yet. I am an herbalist, Mr. Redmond. This community depends upon what I do. I cannot do it here.”
“I understand, but I must insist that you remain… temporarily.”
“Is that an official order?” she cried, vaulting out of the Chippendale chair. Drake was at the bottom of this. There was no doubt in her mind. Would his meddling in her life never cease? “I will
not
be held prisoner here!” she shrilled.
“Sit down, Lady Ahern,” the Runner said steadily. “There is something you aren’t aware of… something I had wanted to keep confidential for the present. But I can see now that shan’t be possible in your case, though I must insist that what I’m about to tell you go no further.”
“Yes?” she snapped, waiting.
“It looks as though it was Mr. Ellery who attacked his lordship in the study downstairs and set the fire. We have all the evidence we need to bring him in. The cloak his lordship was wearing when he was struck down that night was found in Mr. Ellery’s portmanteau at the Black Stag Inn.”
Melly dropped slack-jawed into the chair like a stone.
“Are you all right, Lady Ahern?” the Runner queried.
“T-that occurred before we went up to Truro,” she murmured, “and his behavior was above suspicion; he even praised his lordship—admitted they’d had a dust-up, and that they would eventually settle their differences. He said he’d been accused unjustly, and that his lordship hadn’t been ‘right’ since he returned from Spain. He was very gratuitous, Mr. Redmond… he—”
“He was obviously desperate, “the Runner concluded. “He was soliciting your support, and he might have succeeded, given the time to pursue it.”
“I am not all that gullible, sir,” she said haughtily.
“Yes, well, the man’s a slippery eel, and a dangerous one. Neither his lordship nor I feel it prudent to put you in harm’s way. Therefore, we must ask you to remain under our protection until Ellery is apprehended.”
“Where is Mr. Ellery now?” she probed, almost afraid of the answer. “Why haven’t you put him under arrest?”
“He’s on his way up to London. We believe to clean out his lordship’s blunt at the townhouse. He stole one of his lordship’s prize stallions from the livery this morning.”
“And you’re calmly sitting here wasting your time with me?” she cried, on her feet again. “
Do
something! Go after him!”
“I have done. I’ve sent a messenger to Mayfair. They’re going to be on the lookout for him.”
“Well, if he’s in London, he’s certainly no threat to me. I can’t see why I must remain captive in this house.”
“If he reaches London and gets his hands on more money, chances are that he won’t return here—at least not directly. He’s a gambler, Lady Ahern, a compulsive one. He won’t be able to stay away from the hells, and we’ll get him. If, on the other hand, he does not succeed in Town, it will be because of our surveillance. He will know that we’re looking for him there, and he may well return to the coast and try to extort from you. With no blunt, and half of London looking to run him to ground for his outstanding vowels, you could well be his only option. He’s infatuated with you as well. That gives him two reasons to return. Don’t forget, he is desperate, my lady. Desperate men do desperate deeds. You are simply not safe on your own ‘till we sort all this out.”
Her head was spinning. She had sat in a coach—spent the day—with a man who had just tried to commit murder for money. He had given no clue. Long fingers of gooseflesh inched along her spine reliving their encounter in the library, recalling his forced closeness, his foul breath fetid with stale wine—his veiled threat. A visible shudder moved her.
“You are not a prisoner here,” the Runner said softly. “His lordship is concerned for your safety. Once we’ve got Ellery in hand, and there’s no more danger, you may go wherever you will.”
There was that deuced word again,
danger
—from all sides, so it seemed. But which was the greater danger? The madman who had taken her hostage? Or the desperate criminal who planned to do the stars only knew what to her? She didn’t know. Only one thing was certain—whether Jasper Q. Redmond chose to believe it or not, she most definitely was a prisoner.
*
Melly had scarcely changed into the new nightgown and wrapper of butter-colored lawn, with silk ribbon embroidery that she’d bought in Truro, when a knock on her bedchamber door sent her to answer. Drake stood on the threshold, dressed this time in black pantaloons, and a white linen shirt buttoned loosely over his burns.
“May I come in?” he queried humbly.
“It is late, my lord,” she snapped, and as you can see, I am about to retire.”
“I shan’t keep you. There is something we need to discuss.”
“I don’t know what that could be,” she returned frostily. “You’ve got your way, you’re my jailer, but this is
my
cell, my lord, and you are not welcome here.”
“Melly, please, I’m not your jailer, though you need one—badly. Are you going to let me in, or must I just barge in like I did the last time. Make up your mind. This may be your cell, but so long as it’s in my house if I want to enter it, bigod, I shall do so.”
“Zoe is right next door in that dressing room,” she warned him, pointing a wagging finger.
“Good, then you’re properly chaperoned. Now, may I please come in?”
She stepped aside and let him pass, meanwhile pulling the wrapper close around her in defense of his eyes. They devoured her.
“That color becomes you,” he said awkwardly.
“Thank you, my lord,” she served. “It is mine, the gown, not borrowed,
mine
.”
“You have impeccable taste,” he observed. “Was Jim with you when you purchased it? Did he perhaps help you pick it out?”
“Certainly not!” she cried. “How dare you? Not that it’s any of your affair, because it’s not you know,” she snapped, “I made my personal purchases while he was attending to business.”
“In the gambling hells no doubt?”
Her hand flew to her lips. Perhaps Ellery didn’t have business in Truro at all… perhaps he had been stalking her… perhaps he had eaten such a spare nuncheon to save his blunt for the gambling hells down by the river, while she shopped Lemon Street. Losing at the tables would certainly explain the blue funk he was in when he rejoined her. Her breath caught in a gasp. He said things hadn’t gone well. He could well have been leading up to soliciting her for money. She gasped again and sank down on the lounge. He had asked her where she’d hidden her notes… offered to carry them for her to keep them…
safe
.
“What is it, Melly?” Drake murmured, sitting beside her. “You’ve gone as white as chalk.”
“I didn’t tell Mr. Redmond about that,” she said absently, thinking out loud.
“About what?
Zeus
! What’s this now?”
“Mr. Redmond asked me about my trip to Truro,” she told him. “He wanted to know if Mr. Ellery might have had designs on my funds. At first I said no, but then I remembered that he’d said the business he came to attend to hadn’t gone well.”
“And?”
“Drake, I don’t think he had any business, except stalking me. I didn’t have a reticule you see, and before we ever left the platform, he insisted I tell him where I had hidden my notes… offered to hold onto them for me for safekeeping.”
“You didn’t—”
“Certainly not, but he persisted. He scarcely ate any nuncheon, and then disappeared while I purchased the… unmentionables, you are so concerned about, and when he returned he was downcast. He said things hadn’t gone well. If I hadn’t kept him talking about you… and what happened five years ago on the return trip, I believe he would have gotten around to my money. He wanted to take me to the Tinkers camp on his horse when we got in, and he was quite put out that Pascoe had the good sense to collect me in the cart. When you mentioned the gambling hells just now, that’s certainly where he could have gone. If he did, he evidently lost at the tables. It would also explain why he ate like a sparrow at nuncheon.”
“You had nuncheon with him?” Drake said gravel-voiced.
She bristled. His eyes were doing that strange thing again—sinking behind the ledge of his brow. She half expected smoke to come puffing out of his flared nostrils.
“Yes, I did, at Wilburtson’s Café, in Boscawen Street; very crowded, and very proper,” she informed him haughtily. “As I told Mr. Redmond, I couldn’t get rid of the man, so I put him to use toting my purchases until he left me in Lemon Street to go off and tend his ‘business’.”
“Now do you see why I want you here, where I can protect you? He had just tried to murder me when all that occurred, Melly. If he would do that to me after nearly twenty years of what I believed to be close friendship, what hope do you think you might have had if he’d gotten you alone? I shall thank Pascoe personally for being at that station. He probably saved your life! I
know
he saved your blunt.”
“I shan’t be flummoxed by the same trick twice, my lord.”
“I much preferred it when you called me Drake.”
“Yes, well, we can’t have everything we ‘prefer’ now can we? And, who gave you leave to call me Melly, I should like to know?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Jim made advances toward you while I was away?” he interrupted.
“Why should I? You left me here at the man’s mercy—even thought—”
“I know, and I’m sorry for what I thought. I need to know what happened?”
“Why? Because you want to ease your conscience?”
“He… didn’t…”
“No, he didn’t. He was foxed, and obnoxious, and I put him in his place. It happened just before dinner, and afterward I had mine in my chamber. Why don’t you go and interrogate Mrs. Laity? She’ll tell you. You certainly don’t suppose I’d sit at table with an unseemly elbow-bender who had just tried to maul me do you?”
“It occurred in the library?”
“Yes. I’d gone there to view the portrait of your wife. He recommended it.”
“I’ve no doubt he did. I’d forgotten all about Eva’s portrait. There’s been so much afoot here since I returned, it never even entered my mind. It will be gone in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that on my account, my lord. If I had my way,
I’d
be gone in the morning also.”
“I’m doing it because it has no place here any longer,” he said. “Look at me! Do I look as though I’ve had time to address silly women’s issues?”
“No more time than you’ve had to address silly gentleman’s jealousies, my lord,” she hurled at him.
“All right, truce,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I did not come here for this.”