The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales) (17 page)

‘Is there news?’ she asked, as she took the proffered chair. The men glanced at one another and she said quickly, ‘Please tell me.’

Richard pulled up a second chair and sat down.

‘Wolf is to be tried at the Sessions House in a se’ennight,’ he said.

‘So soon!’ Grace looked at Wolf, who nodded.

‘And Urmston is funding my prosecution for Meesden’s murder.’

Grace frowned. ‘Is that not unusual?’

‘Florence was his cousin,’ said Richard. ‘And since Meesden was her dresser Urmston says it is his moral duty to see justice done.’

‘Justice!’ Wolf’s lip curled. ‘If there were any justice it would be Urmston standing in the dock. As it is he lays my wife’s death and the theft of the diamonds at my door, too. A very neat end to his machinations.’

‘Sophia has directed her lawyers to handle this case,’ put in Richard. ‘They approached Urmston to settle this privately, but he will not budge. He is determined to see you hang, Brother.’

‘Of course. He wants me to take the blame for his crimes.’ Wolf scowled. ‘He knows what happened to Florence, I am sure of it. I have had plenty of time to think while I have been locked up here. When we went to see Meesden, Grace, do you remember her words?
“She would have been happier with—”
She did not say with whom, but I believe she meant Charles Urmston. He and my wife were very close, you see. Too close. That was the reason for our argument the night she died. I told her I was damned if I’d be cuckolded in my own house.’

He began to pace about the room, head down, thinking. ‘It is all tied up with the diamonds. Urmston would sell his own grandmother for a groat. Perhaps he wanted the necklace and Florence did not want him to take it. I think Meesden, too, knew what happened that night. Urmston may well have paid her to keep quiet and her subsequent disappearance did not matter until I returned to England and began to ask questions. And Urmston now seems quite anxious to find the necklace. He asked me about it again when he came here.’

‘Well, it is worth a fortune and his funds are certainly at low ebb again,’ said Richard. ‘When I ran into him in Bath the summer before last he was once more in need for a fortune and trying to find himself another heiress. Even tried to abduct Ellen. My stepdaughter,’ he explained to Grace, adding with a grin, ‘She’s a minx, but fortunately too clever to fall for his tricks. She even bamboozled me into marrying her stepmama.’

Grace saw his face soften as he thought of his wife and felt a momentary pang of envy. Not that it was
Richard
Arrandale she wanted to think of her with affection. A glance at Wolf showed him lost in thought, his countenance very grim, and she sought around for some glimmer of hope.

‘You say your great-aunt has hired lawyers to defend you? They will be the very best, I think.’

Wolf shook his head. ‘With the evidence against me there is little hope of an acquittal, even in a fair trial. But here, where Urmston already has the magistrate in his pocket—’ He leaned on the table. ‘There is no alternative, I must get out.’ His stormy eyes fell on Grace. ‘You had best leave, my dear. I would not have you compromised by what we are about to discuss.’

‘You plan to escape, sir?’

‘I am going to try,’ he said. ‘I have done many foolish things in my time, but I will not be hanged for crimes I did not commit.’

‘Then let me help you.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You have risked enough for me already.’

‘But—’

‘Go back to Arrandale and marry Sir Loftus. Then I need worry about you no longer.’

* * *

Grace winced as his words cut into her, but she would not let him dismiss her so readily. Her determination manifested itself in a steely calm. She gazed at the two men.

‘Do either of you have a plan?’ When neither of them spoke she said, with no little satisfaction, ‘Well, I do.’

Chapter Ten

I
t took a while for the brothers to accept Grace’s idea. Richard finally acknowledged that it might work, but Wolf stubbornly refused to agree.

‘What you suggest is madness,’ he declared. ‘I cannot let you take such a risk for me.’

‘The risk is all yours,’ she replied. ‘I shall be safely away from here before you make your escape.’

‘No!’ he said explosively. ‘I cannot have you involved in this!’

Grace sat back on her chair. ‘Can you think of a better plan?’

Wolf glared at her, his look a mixture of frustration and fury.

Richard laughed. ‘I have to admit, Miss Duncombe, we cannot.’

‘Then we must use mine.’ She rose. ‘It is time for me to go.’

As she walked to the door she heard Wolf’s smothered exclamation behind her.

‘No, Grace, I cannot let you do this!’

She looked back. ‘I do not think you have any choice, sir, unless you want to hang.’

* * *

Grace hurried back to her carriage. The cool resolution she had shown in the prison had been replaced by a nervous energy that made her blood sizzle. How was she ever to explain this to Aunt Eliza, let alone to Loftus? The sad truth was that she had no intention of telling them of her involvement in this daring plan. Indeed, if everything went well there was no need for them to know anything about it. Her part in it was negligible. She would tell Papa and she prayed he would understand, even if he thought her misguided.

A memory stirred. When Henry had been brought back to the vicarage and it had been explained how he had been stabbed protecting a woman from her husband. Papa had given way to emotion then and for once he had railed, saying Henry had been impetuous and misguided to tackle the man alone. Now Grace remembered dear Henry’s words as she nursed him through his final hours.

‘I had to try, Grace. I could no more leave them to their fate than I could stop breathing.’

‘That is it, exactly,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, Henry, you understand why I must do this, don’t you?’

* * *

Wolf paced the floor of his cell. It was five days since they had agreed to Grace’s idea and throughout each of them he had worried their plan would be discovered and she would be arrested. Richard had called this morning to tell him everything was in place, Kennet had been despatched with his instructions and now Wolf was waiting for Grace to make her final visit. He wished to heaven she need not come, but to all his protests she had calmly pointed out that it was necessary if their plan was to work.

‘All your visitors save myself are searched upon entry here,’ she had told him. ‘The guards trust me and that is our advantage.’

And much as he disliked the idea of putting Grace in danger, for the life of him he could not think of any alternative.

When the door was unlocked and she stepped into the cell he fixed her with a grim stare. She put back her veil, pale but composed.

‘Good day to you, Mr Arrandale. I trust you are well?’

Her greeting was the same every time and he replied with his usual scowl, which always made the guard grin as he locked the door upon them.

‘I wish you did not have to come,’ he muttered, as she put her basket down beside the table.

‘I pray this will be the last time.’

Wolf walked to the door and looked out through the grille. The passage was empty, but he was not taking any chances and kept his voice low.

‘Everything is ready?’

She nodded. ‘A hackney coach will be waiting for you across the road from the gaol at the appointed time.’

‘Kennet has found a couple of choice spirits who are even now spending money in the local gin house. Their customers should be roaring drunk and filling the cells within the hour. So you must go as soon as possible, the streets will not be safe.’

‘I am aware. I have an extra footman on the carriage today.’

‘And I have your word you will go home tomorrow?’

‘Yes. That is all arranged.’ She cast a shy glance up at him. ‘Shall I see you, at Arrandale?’

Wolf had been expecting this and had his answer ready.

‘No. I must go to the Hall, but I will not have you or your father involved any further in this business.’

‘But if you can prove you are innocent—’

‘It would take a miracle to get a confession from Urmston, and I have never believed in miracles.’ He shook his head. ‘If we can find the diamonds that will throw doubt upon my guilt. Not enough to convince a jury, I have no doubt that in their eyes the fact that I was found kneeling over the bodies of both my wife and her dresser, with their blood on my hands, would be enough to condemn me, but Richard might convince my daughter I am no murderer.’

‘But we cannot give up hope.’

She looked at him, confident that justice could prevail. Experience had taught Wolf otherwise, but her faith was endearing. He wanted to kiss her, to lose himself in her soft goodness. She had responded to his kiss before, she would again, all he had to do was reach out and take her. Mentally he drew back, reining in his desire. She was betrothed to another man. He might seduce her, kiss and caress her until she was unable to resist him, but she would never forgive herself for breaking her vows. She was too good, too honest to bear the deceit. It would destroy her.
He
would destroy her.

‘I shall not stay in England. Richard and I will appoint a good steward at Arrandale and I shall provide a dowry for little Florence, but then I shall go abroad.’

‘Within the month I shall be married and living at Hindlesham.’ Her eyes sparkled with tears. ‘If your innocence is proved you need not leave Arrandale for my sake.’

He forced a laugh and said carelessly, ‘Grace, m’dear, this isn’t about
you
. The truth is I am too restless to stay in any one place or be faithful to any one woman. I have been a vagabond for too long. I shall never settle down.’

He looked away from the pain in her eyes. He was hurting her, he knew it, but it was for the best. He had never been anything but a wastrel and she deserved so much more than that.

He said, ‘It is time for you to go. Let us get on with it. If you are ready?’

She nodded silently, looking so unhappy that he crossed the space between them in a single stride and took her hands, carrying them to his lips.

‘I am more grateful than I can say for what you have done, Grace, believe me.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. The dark lashes swept down, shielding her eyes. Her fingers trembled in his grasp, he felt her steeling herself for what was to come. Gently she freed herself and gave a little nod. ‘Now. Let us finish this.’

Wolf grabbed the chair and sent it crashing behind him, saying in a loud, angry voice, ‘Damnation, woman, I am
sick
of your moralising!’ He strode across the cell and pounded on the door, exclaiming, once the guard’s footsteps rang on the stone flags, ‘If all you can do is preach at me, madam, then you had best go now. And good riddance to you!’

As the guard opened the door Grace flicked her veil over her face and hurried out. As expected, the outer office was bustling. The usual officer was not yet on duty and she signed herself out. No one questioned that she was leaving within minutes of her arrival and she hurried away to her carriage, tears of despair welling in her eyes. She had been foolish enough to think she was the reason Wolf would not stay at Arrandale and he had lost no time in correcting her. It should not matter, she was marrying Loftus, if he would have her, so why should she care what Wolf thought of her? But she
did
care. Today in that cheerless little cell she had admitted to herself something she had been so resolutely ignoring for weeks. She was in love with Wolf Arrandale.

* * *

Wolf threw himself down on his bed while he waited for the hour to pass. He hated parting from Grace in so rough a fashion, even though they both knew it was contrived. He hated parting from her at all, but it had to be. There was no future for them and he consoled himself with the fact that she would soon forget him, once she was married to her magistrate.

From above came muted shouts and angry voices as drunken rioters were brought in to spend the night in the lock-up. That part of the plan seemed to be working and a few moments later he heard the jovial banter and rough insults that accompanied the changing of the guard. Wolf sat up. That was what he had been waiting for. The officers on duty now would not have seen Grace leaving early and with luck they would not question the veiled figure who would shortly be making her way out of the prison. Quietly, listening intently for any approaching footsteps, he gathered together the clothes Grace had smuggled in for him over the past five days.

* * *

Wolf’s escape from the gaol was almost ludicrously easy. The guard was so used to Grace quitting Wolf’s cell at this time that he hardly looked at the cloaked and veiled figure waiting to be let out and he barely glanced at the dark shape on the bed. The dim light helped to disguise the fact that there was nothing more than pillows and blankets beneath the covers.

Above stairs was a scene of uproar. Constables argued with their more drunk and belligerent charges and, as Grace had predicted, the beleaguered officer in charge merely waved the veiled figure on her way without even looking at the register. From beneath the veil, Wolf watched several drunken men crowd the desk, berating the guards. It might be hours before they discovered the deception. Wolf kept his large hands hidden inside Grace’s swansdown muff and shortened his stride to a more ladylike step as he made his way out of the gaol. No one accosted him, but he did not breathe until he was in the coach and driving away from Horsemonger Lane.

Quickly he discarded the bonnet, cloak and skirts that had masked his identity and replaced them with the hat and riding jacket he found on the seat. Looking out of the carriage, he gave a small grunt of satisfaction. They were travelling south, away from the river. If anyone did remark them they would think he was heading for Dover. So far so good, but he would feel happier once he had reached New Cross, where Kennet should be waiting with the horses.

* * *

Darkness was falling by the time the coach pulled up at a busy inn. If the driver thought it odd that a heavily veiled lady had climbed into his carriage and a fashionable gentleman was leaving it, he showed no sign and Wolf tossed him a silver coin to add to the handsome payment he had already received for his services. Glancing back along the road, he caught a flash of movement on the horizon, riders outlined against the last remaining strip of daylight. Wolf’s eyes narrowed. They were approaching fast. He had hoped for a little more time before his escape was discovered.

Recalling his brother’s instructions, Wolf crossed the inn yard and out through a narrow gate on the far side, into a back lane. Once he was out of sight of any casual observer he began to run. In the dim light of the rising moon he could just make out a stand of trees a short distance ahead of him. As he approached he heard the faint snuffle of a horse.

‘Kennet?’ He spoke softly. ‘Are you there?’

Two horses emerged from the black shadows of the trees but the figure leading them was not Kennet, it was too tall. The pale moonlight fell on a youth, a stripling dressed in riding clothes and a neat jockey cap. Wolf frowned. There was something familiar about the slender shape, the dainty profile.

‘Grace! What the devil—!’

She cut him off. ‘There is no time to explain. I saw the riding officers approaching the inn. They will be searching here very soon. We must go. There is a horse ferry waiting for us at Woolwich.’

Something blazed through Wolf. He ignored the reins she was holding out to him and dragged her into his arms.

* * *

Grace’s nerves were at full stretch and she was defenceless against the onslaught of his kiss. It was fierce, ruthless and possessive. It promised everything she had dreamed of. Everything she knew she could not have. With a superhuman effort she kept her hands clenched on the reins and resisted the temptation to respond. It was over in an instant. Without a word he threw her up into the saddle and scrambled on to his own horse, wheeling the restive animal towards her.

‘Woolwich, you say?’

She dragged her thoughts back, forcing herself to think. Wolf’s life depended upon her now.

‘Yes. Follow me.’

She headed into the trees. The path was barely discernible, but they reached the other side without mishap and she set her horse at a gallop across the open fields. The trees at their back screened them from the inn and as they crested a ridge she risked a quick glance behind. There were no signs of pursuit so Grace steadied the pace to a canter, avoiding roads and skirting villages until at length they reached a crossroads.

‘You appear to know your way around here very well,’ commented Wolf, as she slowed to a walk.

‘Your brother supplied Kennet with very good directions, which I have committed to memory.’ She looked around, then pointed north. ‘That way, I think. You see the church tower over there? We head for that and it will bring us to a small dock, well away from the arsenal.’

‘There is an
arsenal
at Woolwich?’ Wolf cursed under his breath. ‘That means the military. It is madness to consider crossing the river at this point.’

‘And thus no one will expect it.’

As she gathered up the reins, ready to ride on, Wolf reached out and caught her arm.

‘Go back, Grace. It’s not too late. Let me go on alone, do not involve yourself with me.’

She shook her head. ‘I
am
involved, Wolf. There is no going back for me now.’

Wolf’s head was buzzing with questions as she cantered off along the road, but they must wait. For now all he could do was follow. They took a circuitous route around the town and approached the river through a series of narrow lanes.

‘How the devil did my brother find this place?’ he murmured as they rode between two derelict warehouses.

‘I believe you are not the only Arrandale with dubious connections.’ Grace reached into her coat and pulled out a pistol, which she held out to him. ‘You should have this. It is loaded, but I am not familiar with firearms.’