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Authors: Joan Smith

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BOOK: Love's Harbinger
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But she wanted only to rule this man, whose hot kisses drove her to ecstasy. She felt his body suddenly quiver, then stiffen. He pulled away swiftly, leaving her in a state of emotional chaos. He actually pushed her from him and regarded her with contempt. It was the last thing she expected.

In confusion, she asked, “Why did you do that?”

“I’ve just been asking myself the same thing about your sudden warmth. It wouldn’t have anything to do with Thomas, would it? Exerting your feminine guiles on his behalf? Give the commoner a taste of the real stuff and he’ll do your bidding? I’m not so easily gulled as Willie Shaft.”

“No!”

“I understand your reasoning.”

She stared at him silently while trying to make sense of this charge. It had all been some sort of stunt. Pride came to her rescue. Her passions were directed in a new course, lending heat to her reply. “And I understand yours. You’d do anything to persecute Thomas, wouldn’t you? You’re afraid I’ll convince him to return the money—if he ever took it in the first place! That would make dull reading, indeed! Nobleman not guilty in fraud scheme! Much livelier muckraking to blazon his guilt across the banner. Why, I shouldn’t be surprised if you sell an extra dozen subscriptions. You might even be able to afford two rooms instead of that small pig sty you usually wallow in.”

Her words, so adamant and insulting and angry, showed him his case was hopeless. Any hope of pacification was at an end, and frustration turned his neck red. “I wonder where you’d be today if you hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in your craw. It’s easy to look down your patrician nose at me. At least I pay for my own pig sty by the sweat of my brow and not by stealing from honest men.”

“The sweat of your brow?” She emitted a high, ironic laugh. “The sweat of your common, twisted mind is more like it. You’d be less contemptible if you dug ditches. You planted evidence to have me arrested, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you mean to do the same to Thomas. At least you’ve the low cunning to realize the profit in writing about your betters.”

His voice took on a new, menacing tone as his yellow eyes narrowed. “Don’t goad me too far, milady. There’s more than one noble scoundrel involved in this affair now. ‘Lady Faith Mordain Arrested as Accessory’ would amuse Mam’selle Ondit’s readers.”

“You go beyond my worst opinion of you. You achieve depths I could never have imagined. I knew you were low, but till this minute I had no idea how low and disgusting a man can be. I can hardly credit that I once admired you. Yes, you may well stare. You waste your talents, sir. You ought to be on the stage, ranting of honest reporting and the duty of a journalist to right the wrongs of society.
Hypocrite
!” She spat the word at him.

“I have no intentions of printing that! I was just . . . Dammit, Faith . . .”

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. The lump in her throat made further words impossible. She clenched her hands into balls in an effort to control her emotions. Delamar stood uncertainly, still hoping to conciliate her.

“I just wanted to keep you clear when the dirt flies,” he said, not quite truthfully.

“Have you had Thomas arrested?” she asked. Her voice was flintlike, the only tone possible to her if she was to speak at all.

“It will happen within the next few hours.”

“What have you learned?”

“I know where he’ll be and where he has the money. Elwood isn’t with him. He robbed Elwood as well. Noble behavior, indeed! But then we must remember his origins,” he said sardonically.

She swallowed down her hot retort. “Where is he?”

“It doesn’t matter.
I
know where he is.”

“You must tell me!”

“I think not. You’d spoil the story,” he said, and turned to leave the room.

“Wait! You can’t leave me here!”

“Can’t?” he asked, and looked at her for a long moment. “I don’t see why not.” He opened the door and said in a loud voice to Mather, “Book her, Officer. I’ll lay charges now.”

Mather stared at him as though the world had gone mad. “Eh? You mean write it up in my book?”

“Whatever the normal procedure is, follow it.” He scribbled his name on the sheet, stalked from the roundhouse, hopped into his carriage, and returned to the Royal Bath Hotel. Faith’s insults rang in his ears, raising his anger to such heights that he didn’t regret his rash acts for several blocks. Accusing him of exploiting his betters and wallowing in a pig sty was bad enough, but it was the slur on his journalistic integrity that cut the deepest. To accuse him of setting Thomas up for the sake of a story was unforgivable. He was tempted to print the news of her arrest, but discretion hadn’t abandoned him entirely. That was going too far, given the circumstances.

He should go back now and have Mather free her, but she might find her way to Thomas and undo his work. She still loved Thomas, that was obvious. But for one wild, unbelievable moment it tasted like she loved him. There was passion lurking there—why couldn’t there be any common sense? A blind, foolish girl fascinated by Thomas Vane’s handsome looks—that was what it amounted to. She didn’t know, or care, a thing about his character. Yet she had said she had admired him before . . . He had begun to wedge his way into her affections, but it was hopeless now. He’d take a constable to the flats on Poole Hill Road and arrest Lord Thomas Vane. At least Eddie and Buck would get their money back—and the others, too, of course. Lady Lynne would recover her five thousand guineas. Perhaps Lady Lynne would put in a good word for him with Faith

He shook himself back to reality when he realized what he was thinking. He never gave up: that was his strength, and his weakness. He always assessed his tools and talents, then determined how to do the job that needed doing. It had served him well in war, but in love . . . Why not? All’s fair in love and war. He could . . . No, some courses were too much for civilians. It would be unfair to take the money from the flat and plant it on Elwood, to say Thomas had only gone after him to recover the funds.

Besides, it would leave Lord Thomas smelling of roses and free to return to Faith. Recover the money and let Thomas go free? It would give Eddie and Buck and the others their money back, but it would rob him of his journalistic coup. And it would still not publicly disgrace Thomas. The wedding might still go forth.

He had to make Faith realize that Thomas was a bounder and a thief and that he himself was not so low as she thought. He wasn’t just after the story at any cost. What if he captured Thomas and the money privately without bringing in the police? She and Thomas would be spared public disgrace, but it would be acknowledged privately that Thomas was slime. Surely she wouldn’t marry him after that. She couldn’t be that madly in love. What would Thomas do then? Enough people would know the truth so that he couldn’t return to society. Lady Lynne, for instance, wouldn’t keep her tongue between her teeth forever. He’d disappear to America or France or wherever he felt the life would suit him. A pity to turn him loose on some other society, but the world contained many such creatures and folks must constantly be on their guard.

That was it, then. He’d capture Thomas and send him packing. Once he was gone, he’d try to repair the damage done between Faith and himself. Elwood’s freedom was thrown in as an afterthought. He could hardly arrest the man when he wasn’t the one who ran off with the money, even if he’d intended to do so.

Guy went to his room and took a pistol from his valise. As he was leaving the hotel, he met Millie and Tessie loitering in the street. They eagerly pointed out that Mr. Elwood was hanging around the promenade.

“That guy up on the balcony waved a hanky at him when you went in,” Millie added. “A signal for him to follow you, likely.”

“That’s just what I don’t need. Tessie, you get into my rig. Quick, before he sees who enters. Keep your head clear of the window. Better yet, tuck your hair up under this,” he said, and handed her his hat. “Have my groom drive you around for a couple of hours—out in the country, I think. That will draw Elwood off. Lead Elwood back here later. I’ll want a word with him.”

“What do
I
do?” Millie asked eagerly.

“Stay here and keep an eye on Lady Lynne. Has she left her room?”

“She might’ve done that, but she didn’t leave the hotel. They put me and Tessie out long ago.”

“Do you think you could stop her if she came out?”

“I don’t know that I could, not in broad daylight,” Millie opined. “Unless I bashed her over the head and hog-tied her.”

He gave a rueful laugh. “That won’t be necessary. Tell her—no, don’t bother. If she goes anywhere, it will be to the roundhouse. She can’t do much damage there except to Mather.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve found out where Vane has the blunt. He won’t leave without it. I’ll be waiting for him.”

“How did you find out?” Millie asked.

“Your employer and a girl called Belle told me.”

“That Belle is a moonling, I swear.”

“Yes, but Maggie is sharp as a razor. She’s the one who figured it out.”

He waited till his carriage, with Tessie wearing his hat, had driven off at a fast clip heading west on the Bath Road. In a few minutes, Mr. Elwood’s rig followed it. Guy hailed a passing hackney and directed the driver to Poole Road.

In her chamber, Lady Lynne’s patience had come to an end. She had given up hanging around the lobby an hour ago. What was the point? Guy would come to her when he returned. What could possibly be taking Mr. Elwood two hours to fetch Faith home? Either the man was incompetent or he was running some new rig. There was nothing for it but to go after the chit herself. And she didn’t even have her carriage. She’d have to go in a hired cab.

Before leaving the hotel, she sent a boy up to Mr. Elwood’s room with a note on the off chance that he was there. She was told that Mr. Elwood had not taken occupation of his chamber yet. This gave rise to a hope that he had spotted Guy and followed him. That would account for his tardiness in not fetching Faith. It restored her humor somewhat as she was jostled along the busy street to the roundhouse.

Millie watched uncertainly as Lady Lynne left, then decided she’d best hop into a hackney and follow her to be certain she went where Guy said she would. And on top of it all, it was getting late. She and Tessie needed to be back at the abbey by six-thirty for work.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Officer Mather, already sick with regret at what he had done, was ready to embrace Lady Lynne as a savior when she arrived at his door with fire in her eyes and brimstone in her speech. Devilish though she looked, to him she was an angel of mercy. If only he could propitiate her, he might squeak through this imbroglio with his skin intact.

She cast one withering glance at his ignoble premises and demanded, “Who is in charge of this hovel?”

Mather stepped forward manfully. “I have the honor, madam. That is—I—me. I am responsible. I did it, but it’s all Delamar’s fault, I swear an affeydavey.”

Though truculent, Lady Lynne was by no means sure of success in her endeavor. She was more relieved than propitiated by Mather’s manner, the word fault in particular encouraged her. “Where is Lady Faith Mordain?”

“She wouldn’t have a solicitor. I offered to get her one myself.”

“Bring her out,” Lady Lynne commanded.

“That I will. Not to say that she’ll come—an uncommonly determined young lady, if I may be so bold.”

“No, you may not. What charge is laid against her?”

“It’s the watch, you see. The one she stole—took—borrowed—er,
has
that belongs to Mr. Delamar. He’s the one laid the charge against her.”

“What, Lady Faith has Delamar’s watch?” she asked in confusion. “Where the deuce did she get it?”

“From his pocket, he says. He insisted I arrest her.”

“You’re an idiot. You have certainly misunderstood Mr. Delamar’s instructions. Why, the two of them are close as inkle weavers.”

“More like Punch and Judy, it sounded like to me.”

The matter became more confusing by the moment. “Has Delamar been here? Has he been talking to her?”

“You might call it talking. A shouting and screaming match is what it was. Aye, and a blow or two exchanged as well, it sounded like. He stormed out of here madder than when he come in. ‘Book her,’ he says. Book her I did.”

“Then you must unbook her immediately and expunge her name from your list of felons. I will not have my niece’s name listed in a book with thieves.”

“Do you have a solicitor at all?” Mather inquired doubtfully. He liked to be told what to do by persons with some authority. A lady was intimidating, but she made a poor witness in court.

“Unlock that door this instant or I shall bring a magistrate down on your head, you stupid little man.”

It was a hard decision. Prisoners were not allowed to walk free, but this prisoner was patently innocent and, worse, a lady. “If you’d care to deposit bail . . .” he suggested.

“How much?”

“A shilling,” he said, to ensure acceptance.

Lady Lynne tossed a shilling at his feet, and he scampered forward to unlock the door. Faith had overheard every word and stood ready to leave.

She directed a stem look at Mather and said, “You have not heard the last of this, sir.”

His shoulders fell, and he muttered to himself, “Don’t I know it.”

He watched as the ladies went to their carriage and were driven away. He wondered what that saucy piece of a Millie was doing, following them. Guy was running one of his rigs certainly, and he was glad he was out of it. Then he pocketed his shilling and went to vent his ill humor on his other felons.

Lady Lynne’s manner became more friendly when the ladies were alone. “Poor girl,” she said, taking Faith’s hand to comfort her. “Are you able to tell me how a simple trip to a few hotels to look for Thomas landed you in jail?”

At the first word of sympathy, tears oozed out of Faith’s eyes and she collapsed on her aunt’s shoulder. In bits and pieces, the story came out, very jumbled and very emotional. “He called me a bounder and says he will print in the
Harbinger
that I was arrested.”

BOOK: Love's Harbinger
10.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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