The Last Hellion (37 page)

"Oh, dear," said she, wringing her hands.

"I know you wasn't leadin' me on because you ain't that sort," Bertie said. "You ain't goin' to tell me you was, and you don't like me even a little, are you?"

Her face turned cherry pink. "I like you exceedingly," she said in a disconcertingly saddish sort of way.

"Well, then," said he, disconcerted but undaunted. "We'd best get shackled, don't you think?"

She looked helplessly about Athcourt's music room, where he'd finally cornered her—alone. It was Sunday, and he'd been trying since yesterday, when they arrived. He'd meant to give it one more day, then propose, wherever they were and whoever was about. It was not, after all, as though anything this side of the earth exploding could shock either Dain or Jessica.

Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

"Maybe I should kneel and make a speech of it, do you think, Miss Price?"

Bertie grimaced. "I collect I ought to say how devilish fond I am of you, even though it'd be obvious to a blind man and deaf, too."

Behind the spectacles, her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, please don't kneel," she said. "I'm embarrassed enough. I should not be such a coward. The Duchess of Ainswood would be vastly disappointed in me."

"A coward? By gad, you can't be afraid of
me
?"

"No, of course not. How silly I am." She took off her spectacles, rubbed them on her frock sleeve, and put them back on. "Naturally, you will understand that I did not set out to deceive you. My name is not Price, but Prideaux." She lifted her chin. "Tamsin Prideaux. I am not an orphan. I have a complete set of parents. In Cornwall. But I was obliged to give up on them, for the situation was intolerable.

And so I ran away. Only Her Grace knows the truth."

"Ah." He was confused, but he felt obliged to sort things out quickly, because she believed he would understand, and he did not like to disappoint her.

"Intolerable, was it? Well, then, what could you do but bolt? I did. There was my Aunt Claire forever bringing one heiress or another to the house, or haulin' me wherever they was. And I'm sure there weren't nothin' wrong with 'em, but either a fellow fancies a gal or he don't, and I didn't. And not wantin' to hurt their feelin's nor have to listen to Aunt Claire jawin' forever about it, I made a run for it."

He frowned. "I never thought of changin' my name. Weren't that clever of you?"

he added, brightening. "Prideaux. Price. Thomasina. Tamsin. No, other way about. From Tamsin to Thomasina. Now I think on it, I like 'Tamsin' better.

Sounds like a pixie name, don't it?"

She gazed at him for a while. Then she smiled, and really, she did look rather Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

like a pixie. A shortsighted one, to be sure, but then, he was happy to stand near enough so that she could see him even without her spectacles.

"Is that a 'Yes, I will,' then?" he asked. "Shall we make it 'Lady Trent' and never mind the other names?"

"As long as you don't mind anything else." She adjusted her spectacles, though they seemed straight enough to him. "Obviously, we can expect nothing from my parents, and even for your sake, I could not accept any dowry or settlement from Her Grace, though she will try to press it upon me, I know. But I am not expensive, Sir Bertram—"

"Bertie," he said.

She bit her lip. "Bertie," she said softly.

"Oh, I say, that's pleasant." He made matters pleasanter by gathering her up in his arms and kissing her until they were both dizzy.

He would have gone beyond dizziness if he were not acutely aware they weren't wed yet. Which meant a fellow must behave himself, like it or not. It did not mean, however, that the fellow needed to wait for the preacher a minute longer than absolutely necessary. And so Bertie took his future bride's hand and went to obtain Dain's help in making that future near rather than distant.

Though Athcourt was one of England's largest houses, they did not have to go far, because Dain was looking for them. They met up with him on the landing of the great staircase.

"I say, Dain, Miss P and I want to get shackled," said Bertie.

"You'll have to wait," said Dain. "I've had a letter from Ainswood. His wards have gone missing. You must take Miss Price to London to assist my cousin."

After briefly explaining the situation, he turned to Tamsin. "You must pardon the Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

imposition. My wife may not consider her condition 'delicate,' but I will not permit her to make two long journeys with almost no rest between. She will be easier in her mind if Lydia has a woman friend with her."

"Good heavens, where else should I be but with Lydia?" said Tamsin. "I can be packed in under an hour." She hurried away.

"I wish you happy, Trent," Dain said. "Though I cannot for the life of me ascertain what she sees in you." He shrugged. "We haven't time to ponder that riddle. Ainswood needs help—after which I mean to pound him to a pulp."

Dain continued up the stairs, talking. "I didn't know he had any more wards. But Jessica tells me they've been living with Mars ever since Charlie died. Curse the lout! I must find out everything secondhand. And there have been so dratted many condolence notes that I hardly know who's alive and who isn't 'Who in blazes is Elizabeth?' I ask Jess. 'The sister of the little boy who died about a year before we were wed,' she tells me. 'But she's dead,' I insist. 'It was right after my old friend Wardell was planted. I distinctly remember Mallory—as he was then—

rushing from one funeral to the next.' "That was the boy's mother,' Jessica tells me. 'Then who the devil did my secretary send the last condolence note to, on the lad's account?' I want to know. The elder sister, it turns out."

By this time they had turned into the guest wing, where Bertie's room was.

"And so, not only is the sister not dead, but there's another one," Dain went on.

"And living with Mars, no less, who has nine children of his own and another on the way, for all his wife is five and forty if she's a day."

The marquess pushed open Bertie's bedchamber door. "Ainswood should have told me."

"Well, he didn't tell me nothin', neither," Bertie said, following him inside.

"He hardly knows you," said Dain. He stomped back out into the hall and Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

bellowed for his valet.

When he came back in, he said, "I've been wed for six months. I might have gone for those girls at any time and had them to live here. It isn't as though we're short of accommodation, is it? And Jessica would like to have female company.

Not to mention those are Charlie's girls. One of the finest fellows I've ever known. I should have left Paris posthaste for his funeral had that moron friend of mine thought fit to send me word. But by the time I heard of it, Charlie had been planted for a week."

He found Bertie's bag and flung it on the bed.

Andrews arrived then, but Dain chased him away. "I'll help Trent," he said. "Go pack for me. Her Ladyship will explain what's needed."

Andrews departed.

Dain went to the wardrobe and went on talking while he emptied its contents. "I should have been there when they laid Charlie to rest. I should have been with Ainswood when they lay the boy with his father. A man ought to have his friends with him at such times, and Ainswood had no friend in Charlie's sisters, I'll tell you that. Or their husbands." He threw a heap of clothes on the bed and paused, looking at Bertie. "At least he's asked this time. For help. Doubtless that's my cousin's doing." He returned to the wardrobe. "You will take Miss Price to her—"

"Actually," Bertie said, "it's Miss Prideaux."

"Whatever." Dain pulled waistcoats from their wrappings in the drawer. "Your intended. You will take her to London, and stay there, and do precisely as my cousin tells you. Lydia knows London, and she has information sources the Home Secretary could not begin to match."

"You reckon them gals'll get to London?" Bertie said. "Seein' as how they never Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

made it to Liphook, mebbe they decided to go home."

"Maybe," said Dain. "The question is, where is home?"

Vere pushed desperately through a woodland grown as thick as a tropical jungle.

Clawlike roots snaked out from nowhere, and he tripped and fell, struggled up, and pushed on. It was cold, bitter cold, and black. Neither moonlight nor starlight could penetrate the tangled boughs above. He couldn't see where he was going, but blindly followed the sound, the child's terrified cry.

Icy sweat drenched his shirt.

I'm coming
. His mouth formed the words, but no sound came out. The boy couldn't hear him, wouldn't know, would think Vere had abandoned him.

It's not true. I never would. Never, never.

But Vere had abandoned Charlie's boy, left him to fools and cowards… and worse.

And that was why he was punished now, his voice taken away, suffocated, while the child suffocated… while the foul, killing film of diphtheria spread inside him.

Vere's hand struck marble. His fingers scrabbled over it, searching for the handle. It wouldn't move. Locked. He beat on the door, iron, unyielding.

No!

He tore at the lock, wrenched it off. He pulled the massive door open and ran toward the voice, faint and fading now.

A candle burned at each end of the coffin. He pushed the lid off, tore away the shroud, lifted the boy in his arms.

But it was only cold mist he held, a shadow fading, vanishing… gone.

"No. No!
Robin
!"

Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

Vere's own cries woke him.

He was on his knees, a pillow clutched to his chest.

His hands were shaking. His skin was clammy. Wetness trickled down his cheeks.

He flung down the pillow and rubbed his hands over his face.

He walked to the window. Beyond was darkness, heavy with the fog that had rolled about them during the last weary miles before they'd reluctantly stopped, for it was late, and the servants hadn't had their dinner, and they were exhausted.

Unlike their masters, they hadn't guilty consciences and unrelenting anxiety to kill sleep and appetite.

Vere opened the window. He heard the soft hiss of rain. Though he discerned no hint of coming daylight, the air carried the promise of dawn.

Tuesday, then, he thought. The girls had been missing for a full week, and no one could find a trace of them.

He washed and dressed himself. He'd left Jaynes with Grenville. The valet was more useful in London, knew all its nooks and crannies. He could go anywhere in its netherworld and blend in.

Vere didn't want to think about the netherworld, about his wards stumbling into it, as so many runaways did. Miss Price, for instance. In Coralie's clutches.

If you would take the bawd into custody…

On that day in Vinegar Yard, Grenville had asked no more of him than was any British subject's duty, most especially that of the ruling class.

He'd let Coralie go, to prey on other girls. And she was one of so many predators.

But shame was a weight he'd been carrying since Saturday, and if this added to it, he could hardly feel the increase.

Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

He took out the writing box Grenville had made him take along, drew out paper, unstopped the inkwell, and picked up a pen. He had to write his report.

Grenville had appointed herself general. London was headquarters, and all her

"officers" were required to re-port twice a day. Servants and friends acted as couriers, carrying messages back and forth.

The army of searchers was to keep within a maximum fifty-mile radius of London, though the most intense area of search was within thirty miles. The groups worked along the main coaching routes. Dain, for instance, was in charge of the Exeter and Southampton routes, which converged forty-five miles from London.

Vere and Mars were in Maidenhead, where the Bath, Stroud, and Gloucester roads met.

Vere and Dain worked near enough to exchange messages regularly. As of last evening, Dain had learned nothing.

Vere dutifully reported this as well as his own searches of the previous day, and today's itinerary.

"We must exclude Millie from these plans," he continued, after wracking his brains for something hopeful to write down. "She's shown a tendency to wander from her assigned routes. But she goes in search of the local gossips, and has heard plenty, though not much to the point. The common folk are not so shy with her as with us. Yesterday, we procured a dog cart for her, and gave one of Mars's servants the job of driving her. She did not rejoin us last night. Still, you assured me she might be relied upon, and she has a sturdy fellow with her. I've told myself she's following a trail, in her own way, and I wish with all my heart it may be fruitful."

He frowned at what he'd written. It was cool and factual, as all his notes were.

Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion

Yet not all the facts.

He got up, paced the room, sat down again. He took a fresh sheet of paper and took up his pen once more.

My love,

Twice a day I write to you, and all it amounts to is,
we haven't found the girls. I haven't mentioned what I have found.

Their brother is here. There's no escaping him. We traveled this road together,
Robin and I. Everywhere I look, I see what he and I once looked upon together.

From the carriage window. From the back of a horse. On foot, and from time to
time, with him upon my shoulders.

I had blotted him from my mind, with drink and whores and fights, and by
avoiding everyone and everything associated with him. Since you came into my
life, these cowardly escapes have been cut off. You cut off the last when you
asked me to take you to Bedfordshire. I knew what you wanted. I had a pair of
orphans in my keeping
—
a journalist would have no difficulty finding that out
—

and you wanted to take them in, as you took in Miss Price, and Bess and Millie. I
know you chose those three yourself, and must choose carefully, else every waif
and orphan in London would have been crammed under your roof in Soho
Square. But I recalled what Lady Dain had done, how she'd made Dain take in
his bastard son, because the boy was Dain's responsibility. I doubted your views
of responsibility were any more flexible than hers
.