The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake (39 page)

Broderick, who had been slightly burned on one arm and cut by flying glass, said with his dauntless grin, “Well, Colonel, sir?”

“Very well that you and Paige came, and saved my bacon once more, Toby. I don't know what we'd have done without you, but—Gad, you've paid the price! You'd best not visit your mama until your good looks are restored; if she set eyes on you this morning, the poor lady would be frightened to death!”

Broderick laughed and called him an ingrate.

The General said, “Have you looked at yourself this morning, Hastings? Egad! I wondered who that scarecrow was!”

Much of Adair's hair and both eyebrows had fallen victim to heat and flame, and his forehead was cut and blistered; the apothecary, who had spent a busy night, had declared that he'd very likely suffered a concussion, and there was a bone broken in his right wrist which was now splinted and carried in a sling.

He said ruefully, “The pot calling the kettle black, is that the case? I can only hope my lady won't abandon me.”

Cecily said with a fond smile, “Small chance of that, sir.”

“But if she should,” said Broderick, sobering, “no one could blame her after she endured such a frightful ordeal.”

There was a brief pause. Adair found that he could recall only cameo-like episodes after they'd climbed through the window of Uncle Willoughby's study barely in time to escape the collapse of the ceiling. He remembered Toby telling him that Nigel's wound was not as severe as they'd at first feared and that the boy had been carried home to Adair Hall. He remembered leaving the fire as soon as everyone was safely outside, and making his way to Toreador; he remembered his relief to find the big dapple-grey standing, ready to greet him, and being pampered by an admiring young neighbour lad. He remembered a small, scorched and dirty hand slipping into his own, and Cecily murmuring her sympathy for Mr. Chatteris and his family, who had lost so much; and he remembered the lump that had come into his throat and the tears that had filled his eyes at the thought of how nearly his exquisite lady had been taken from him. He remembered the apothecary's painful ministrations, but he couldn't recall having gone to bed, nor anything else until Paige had shaken him gently and said, “I may have the wrong fella, but if you're Colonel the Honourable Hastings Adair, you'd better get up before all the food is gone!”

General Chatteris broke the silence by clearing his throat and declaring in his official voice, “Very well. Now things must be dealt with. I never knew a fire to spread so fast. Does anyone know where it started?”

Broderick said, “In several places at once, I'd guess, sir.”

The General stared at him. “Eh? What's that?”

“It was deliberately set, Grandfather,” said Adair, and before the old gentleman could recover from that revelation, he asked, “Did anyone see where he went?”

Broderick frowned. “Where—who went?”

“Harrington, of course. I had the varmint, but—”

“Harrington?”
boomed the General, his whiskers vibrating. “That damnable villain was
here
last night? Were you aware, Will?”

“To my sorrow,” said Willoughby. “He—er, he tried to kill me, and if Hastings hadn't come, would have succeeded. As it is,” he added sadly, “he destroyed my Lists. The labour of years…”

“We saved some of them, sir,” said Broderick encouragingly. “Perhaps there are enough for you to put the rest together again.”

Willoughby sighed. “I suppose they were really only—er, valuable to me.”

“They were more than valuable to me, sir,” said Adair. “It was those Lists of yours that enabled me to see what treachery I had to deal with. And they were certainly of major importance to Harrington. I think he had no intention of returning here save to make sure the Lists were destroyed, but curiosity drove him to try and discover what you actually had learned about him.”

Broderick said, “Hoist by his own petard, you might say, since his bravos set the fire.”

“What?”
roared the General, leaping to his feet. “Why was nothing said of it till now? Where is the filthy bounder? We'll get the Runners after him! Why the deuce did you allow him to escape, Hastings?”

“He's slippery as an eel, sir. But actually, I had no choice. There was barely enough time for Uncle Willoughby and me to get out. We went through the window, thanks to Toby and Randall. Harrington escaped through the rear door.”

“Devil he did,” argued the General. “I'd gone back there myself, thinking that was the way you would come. If he'd opened that door before the passage ceiling fell, I'd have seen him. I didn't go round to the side till there was no hope of anyone getting out that way.”

“By George,” muttered Broderick. “D'you suppose…?”

Cecily said falteringly, “Hasty—might he have been caught by that collapsing ceiling?”

“It certainly sounds like it.” Adair frowned, and muttered, “In which case, Harrington is spared a traitor's death, and I've lost my witness and am properly against the ropes again. Unless … If Alice is a widow already, she could testify—”

Cecily shrieked, “
Alice?
What are you saying?”

“You curst trickster,” exclaimed the General. “You found Miss Alice and you wait until now to tell us?”

Adair groaned, “Cecily, forgive me. I meant to tell you first thing this morning, but—No—don't cry love, please! I'm a sorry fool, but your cousin is alive, and—”

“And safe,” interposed Broderick loftily.

Adair turned around to face him. “You—
found
her?”

“She's a
widow?
” cried Cecily.

“Harrington was the scoundrel who kidnapped and held her prisoner, then forced her into marriage,” explained Adair.

“Why, that—that unspeakable
filth!
” roared the General.

Cecily's lips trembled. She asked, “Where is she, Toby? Oh, the poor darling! I must go to her at once!”

“There was a coach standing near the crossroads when Paige and I arrived last night,” explained Broderick. “I thought it suspicious, so I glanced inside, and recognized the lady from—from her portrait, y'know.”

“So?” barked General Chatteris. “So?”

“So we—rather—er, collected her, sir.”

Wide-eyed, Cecily said, “You did?”

“I'll not believe he dared leave her unguarded,” said Adair.

“Well, that's true.” Broderick looked at their eager faces and said diffidently, “The fact is, we, er—persuaded the guards to go away. Well, one, anyway. The other sort of—fell down. And then I took Miss Alice to a place where I'm sure she'll be quite safe. Which is why I was a trifle late getting here, Hasty. But I think you're quite right, Miss Hall. We should go to her. She will like to know she's no longer wed to that slug.”

Cecily said, “I can scarce believe it—that between you wonderful men my—my dear cousin is found at last.”

“Where did you take her, Toby?” asked Adair.

“To the Blessed Spirit Nunnery. A good place, wouldn't you say?”

Adair glanced at his uncle's sagging jaw and smiled. “A very good place, old fellow. Well done!”

“And now,” snorted General Chatteris, hiding the fact that he was enormously impressed by these exploits, “will some sane person kindly tell me why this was kept a close secret all these hours?”

Adair answered, “Well, you see, sir—Well, the thing is—She was here and—well, I just couldn't find the words to tell her.”

Cecily said tenderly, “My very dear! As if I could be anything but overjoyed.”

“Not you, love. Minna.”

“Oh—Lord!” muttered the General. “She thinks she's betrothed to the scum! Well, she's better off out of it!”

Adair said, “Except—she loves him, sir.”

“She won't, when she hears what an evil creature he was. But someone must tell the girl.” The General glanced to Willoughby's chair, but it was empty.

Cravenly, Willoughby Chatteris had slunk away.

The General marched off at once to track down his cowardly son; Broderick went off to escort Cecily to a reunion with her beloved cousin at the Nunnery of the Blessed Spirit; and Adair walked with slow reluctance across to the kennels, dreading the fact that it was left to him to break the heart of his gentle cousin. His fears proved to have been unnecessary. He found Minerva seated on a bench outside the dog runs, weeping on Paige Manderville's shoulder. Knowing how fond she'd been of the old house, Adair came up and said, “I think Uncle Willoughby means to rebuild, Minna.”

Paige looked up at him and made no attempt to remove the arm that was around the girl. “I told her about Harrington,” he said, adding a defiant “Well, somebody had to!”

Adair stepped closer and under cover of Minerva's sobs murmured, “With suitable omissions, one trusts?”

“For the time, at least, Colonel, sir.”

The kennelman appeared and all the dogs began to bark.

Manderville added sardonically, “But it will be interesting to see how Whitehall's exalted blockheads will deal with this case of crabs!”

*   *   *

“I can only hope”—Tobias Broderick cast a cautious glance around the quiet waiting room in the Nunnery of the Blessed Spirit—“I can only hope that falling ceiling did write
finis
to Minister Harrington! If ever there was a heartless swine! That poor little soul may very well go into a decline thanks to his slithery schemes!”

Adair, feeling somewhat more like himself this afternoon, asked, “Is Cecily still with her?”

Broderick nodded. “Thank heaven. They're devoted, all right, and I fancy your lovely lady can help her more than anyone.” He frowned worriedly. “What's to be done, Hasty? Will Miss Alice be ostracized because of this horrid train of events?”

Adair thought that very probable, but noting the anxiety in his friend's honest eyes, he said, “I'm sure many people will be compassionate, but she may be wise to keep out of Society for a year.”

“Have to, if she's to be a widow, old fellow.”

“Yes. After that—well, such things are soon forgotten, and if she should re-marry and change her name—”

“Not much doubt of that.” His face becoming very red, Broderick looked Adair steadily in the eye and gave a little nervous cough. “Matter of fact, I'd—I'd be dashed proud to offer for her myself.”

Adair thought of Nigel and of another possibility, but he said, “I rather thought you might, but—”

He paused and both men stood as the Mother Superior came to join them. Miss Prior was asleep, she told them, but Miss Hall would stay with her until she was well enough to be conveyed to her home. “Her family must be notified of what has happened. Could one of you … perhaps…?”

“I'll leave at once,” said Broderick. “They'll be overjoyed to hear she is safe.” He looked at the nun searchingly. “Won't they, ma'am?”

“If they are not, they must be a most strange family,” she answered with her serene smile. “You will also perhaps be so kind as to arrange that Miss Hall's maid will come and bring with her a change of clothing and those things necessary to a lady's comfort.”

Broderick nodded and hurried out.

The Nun said thoughtfully, “He is a good man, that one. And has, I think, a
tendre
in the little widow's direction?”

“He has. My brother has a similar
tendre.
I doubt the lady will want for offers, ma'am.”

Her beautiful eyes turned to him. “I hope not. Though—it is possible, you know, that whoever weds Miss—Mrs. Harrington, may have
un petit paquet
to care for. Have you considered that, Colonel?”

“I have, Reverend Mother.” He wondered if Toby had, but said staunchly, “Knowing both men, I'd think it would not constitute a major problem.”

She smiled. “You have give me the answer I prayed for. Now you will please to tell me what is troubling you,
mon colonel.
”

Despite everything Harrington had done, they had once been friends and had shared many light-hearted moments. Memories of those times and the manner of his dying had haunted Adair.

He hesitated, then said, “Just before the fire at Blackbird Terrace, my aunt took on two servants to replace two of her own people who were ill. They were a married couple named Gillis. They claimed to have come from you. Had they worked here very long?”

He knew what her answer would be before she spoke, and why the people at Blackbird Terrace had been so difficult to waken on the night of the fire.

“I have never known anyone by that name,” said the Mother Superior. “There is, perhaps, the mistake?”

He assured her it was of no importance. But there had, he knew, been no mistake, and he felt a shadow lift from him. The late Julius Harrington had set his traps without mercy.

19

There was no sign of the sun on this cold morning. March had been ushered in on gale-force winds that whipped the smoke from London's countless chimney-pots, rattled windows, and sent many a roof tile tumbling down.

Inside the Horse Guards the outer uproar was no more than a background to the excitement that permeated offices, corridors and meeting rooms. Spurs jingled, military boots stamped briskly, rumours flew, and everywhere was a buzz of excited speculation. An hour earlier, business had been proceeding as usual, and then that rogue and former Lieutenant-Colonel, Hastings Adair, had been brought in under heavy escort and taken to the very room in which, only last month, he had been sentenced to death. Within minutes everyone in the building, from the lowliest private to the highest-ranking officer, had heard the news. Nobody seemed to know why Adair had been arrested again, but a sentry stood as if carven from stone outside the door, which would indicate that the dastardly young libertine was not here voluntarily. Soon, distinguished senior officers began to arrive and one by one went inside, leaving behind another flurry of comment.