by Lucy Adams
Charles’s stomach tightened, and he had to restrain himself from lashing out at the man before him. “He took the cipher and ran.”
Leadsom rolled his eyes, as though Charles was being utterly idiotic. “Hogarth was angry with me for not doing more to Leighton, so I was tasked with finding him.”
“And you thought to try his daughter,” Charles bit out, remembering how the hackney had slammed into the one containing Lady Esther. “Is that right?” He wanted to grab Leadsom by the throat, to demand that he tell him where Lord Hogarth was at this very moment, but by sheer force of will restrained himself. This had to be done. Leadsom had to speak; he had to tell everything one bit at a time.
“She was foolish trying to get into The Shrew,” Leadsom said, with a small smile that made his eyes glint with dark intent. “I only saw her by chance and had to do what I could to find out the truth. Although I soon realized she didn’t know where he was.”
“But you discovered him anyway,” Lord Watt said softly. “In the end.”
Leadsom sniffed disdainfully. “In the end, yes,” he replied proudly. “Lord Hogarth found out that Lord Leighton used to have an old house in the darker parts of London, where he went to hide sometimes, back when he worked for The King’s League.” This was said with such mockery that Charles found himself taking a step forward, before Lord Watt put out a restraining hand. “You can’t imagine the look on Lord Leighton’s face when he saw Hogarth. Thought he was come to help him, given that he was at such a loss as to what to do next.” He chuckled, and the room seemed to grow all the darker. “We soon made him realize that he was mistaken.”
Charles swallowed hard, forcing down his anger. “And you then tried to do whatever you could to get him to tell you the whereabouts of the cipher.”
“So we could destroy it,” Leadsom answered quickly. “So you could never decipher what was written in that book.”
“But you did not succeed,” Lord Watt answered triumphantly. “He did not tell you, even though you tried to threaten his daughter and tried to injure her. And now you are to face the penalty for what you have done. I would not claim that as much of a victory.”
Silence fell across the room, broken only by the occasional flurry of words from Lord Leighton. Charles glared at Leadsom, his whole body consumed with anger. This man had brought harm to Lord Leighton, had worked in conjunction with a traitor, and even now, when he was captured, he seemed to glow with the pride of what he had done. It was all he could do just to remain standing instead of launching himself at the fellow.
“You do not have the cipher,” he grated, as Leadsom’s gaze turned to him. “What is Hogarth intending?”
Leadsom said nothing for some minutes, looking steadily back at Charles in the dim lantern light. Then, he sighed, turned his head away, and began to speak, as though he could not bear to look at the man to whom he was speaking.
“Hogarth knows of your attachment to Lady Esther. He will use her to his own advantage.” He swung his head back around and looked steadily into Charles’s face. “You will have Lord Leighton give him the location of the cipher, else Lady Esther will come to a rather unfortunate end.” He began to chuckle, his teeth white in the gloom – and Charles could take no more.
“Where is she?” he roared, leaping forward and dragging both Leadsom and the chair up from the floor, his hands tight on Leadsom’s collar. “Where has he taken her?” He gave the man a shake, hearing the chair scrape on the wooden floor as the bound Leadsom began to gurgle. “Tell me! Tell me this moment or it will be all the worse for you!”
“Westbrook.”
Lord Watt tugged on Charles’s arm, forcing him to let go. Leadsom, who was now a shade of purple, sagged back in his chair, gasping for air as Charles glared at him, his anger still running like lava through his veins.
“I think you should tell Westbrook where Lady Esther is,” Lord Watt said mildly. “There will be more punishment meted out for you if you do not, Leadsom.”
“I am not…afraid…of pain,” Leadsom said hoarsely, still dragging in air. “I will not be intimidated!”
“You will speak,” Lord Watt said again. “Else there will be a good deal of pain, Leadsom. So much, in fact, that you will beg for the gallows before the end.” His tone lowered, his brows furrowed, and he took a few small steps towards the bound man. “This is your last opportunity, Leadsom. Consider your next actions carefully, for they may very well affect what is left of your life.”
This, Charles noticed, seemed to have a profound effect on Leadsom. He swallowed once, twice, and then a third time, his eyes roving from one to the other. The silence was almost unbearable, with Charles’s hands curling into fists as he waited with impatience.
“Stutton Hill.”
“Just outside of London,” Charles said, taking a step forward. “Where?”
“He-he has a small cottage there. So small you can easily miss it. Covered in ivy and the like.” Leadsom shook his head, his lip curling in disgust – perhaps for himself and his willingness to betray Lord Hogarth. “He’s likely got her there.”
Charles did not hesitate but hurried from the room at once, stepping back outside into the squalid air. Just as he did so, three other gentlemen came forward, having just stepped out of a carriage that was lit by lanterns and looked entirely out of place in what was a very poor part of London.
“Brandley, I need your carriage,” Charles said quickly, seeing that it was ready and prepared. “Lord Leighton is within. Have him taken to his townhouse and send for a doctor at once. I shall return with Lady Esther and Lady Ware presently.” He said nothing more but strode past the three gentlemen, who merely nodded and hurried on inside.
“Oh, and ensure that Leadsom does not escape,” Lord Watt said quickly, hurrying out after Charles. “He is a wily fellow, and I would have him face the gallows rather than find a way to escape.” His jaw set hard as he pulled himself up into the carriage, his expression furious. “Hogarth, then,” he muttered, as Charles rapped on the roof and shouted where they were to go. “Can you believe it?”
Charles swallowed and turned his face away, realizing that he had not expected it and certainly could still not quite believe it. Lord Hogarth had always been an excellent gentleman – at least, as far as he had known him, but now to hear that he had been working for the French and using The King’s League to learn as much as he could about their dealings was utterly sickening. At the same time came a deep, frantic fear that Lady Esther would be either injured or close to death. Lord Hogarth was a hard man, and he did not think he would hesitate when it came to hurting another.
“We will find her,” Lord Watt said gently, as though he knew what Charles was thinking. “Have no doubt, old boy. We will find her. Justice will be done.”
“But we still do not have the cipher,” Charles muttered, knowing that such a thing faded in place of Lady Esther’s safety. “If Lord Leighton does not return to us, does not recover, then…” He shook his head with sorrow.
“We will succeed,” Lord Watt answered. “I will not have any fears from you, Lord Westbrook. You are the strongest of men, the most courageous in spirit.” He leaned forward, his face illuminated by the dim light of the carriage lanterns. “Do not lose your fortitude now.”
“I will not,” Charles grated, focusing his mind on Lady Esther. She was courageous, determined, and wise in her actions. He knew that about her well enough, and he had to trust that she would put such accolades to use when surrounded by such a man as Lord Hogarth. Yes, she would be afraid—terrified perhaps—but he had to believe that she would find her courage and speak up in the face of it. His heart ached for her, his arms desperate to hold her close and to know she was safe. Closing his eyes, Charles leaned against the squabs and tried to think only of her. She was to be his bride, his one and only love. He had never felt anything such as he did for Lady Esther, and to know that she was in danger now tormented him with such agony that every second seemed like an hour. Lowering h
is head into his hands, Charles began to pray silently, praying that they would be able to find Lady Esther and Lady Ware and that both of them would be safe. If they were not, then Charles did not know what he would do.
Chapter Fourteen
“My lord, I did not mean to injure her, I—”
“Return to your seat.”
Esther could hear voices, could hear what was being said quite clearly, but it seemed to be coming from very far away. Her eyes were heavy as she struggled to open them, feeling herself almost weighted to the ground.
“Esther?”
It was Lord Westbrook. She knew that voice. It was her protector come to find her and save her from the clutches of Lord Hogarth.
“Esther?” Lord Westbrook said again, a catch in his voice. “Say you are not gone from me, my love. Say that you are still of this world.”
She felt his hands on hers, his fingers gentle on her cheek, and she forced herself to move. With all the strength she had, she forced her eyes to open, dragging in what felt like the longest breath of air she had ever taken.
A burst of sobbing came from her left.
“She is awake, Lady Ware,” Lord Westbrook said gently, looking down at Esther as she blinked sluggishly, trying to focus on his face which was nothing but shadows and shapes. “Esther? Are you able to sit up? You were hit by one of the horses and fell.”
Swallowing, Esther held Lord Westbrook’s hand with as much strength as she could, seeing his face slowly become clear. There was a lantern being held by Lady Ware, allowing her to see everything with clarity.
“You came,” she whispered, as his strong arm went behind her, helping her to sit up. “You came to find me.”
“I did,” he replied, his hand tight about her shoulders. “I did not know of Lord Hogarth’s treachery until only a short time ago, else I would never have allowed you to go with him.”
Esther sighed and leaned her head against Lord Westbrook as he crouched beside her. Lady Ware, still weeping, pressed one hand to the top of her head. “We are safe now?”
“Yes,” he murmured, his chest rumbling. “You are all safe. Your father is in the depths of a fever and is being taken to his townhouse at this moment. Lord Hogarth has been captured by Lord Watt and will be tried for treason to the Crown – as will his associate, Leadsom.”
Esther blinked, trying to make sense of all that was being said but feeling her mind slower than usual. “Leadsom?”
“The man with the scar,” Lord Westbrook explained. “Your father has been held captive for some days, as they have tried to force him to tell them the whereabouts of the cipher.” His voice rang with pride. “But Lord Leighton told them nothing. The cipher is safe, and once we have it again, we shall be able to decipher the book and ensure that those named within it are caught and tried.” His hand tightened on her shoulder as she lifted her head. “Your father is a very brave man, Esther.”
“He is,” Lady Ware agreed, as Esther began to try to stand up. “As is his daughter.” Quickly, she told Lord Westbrook what Esther had done, how she had saved Lady Ware and then used the brooch to defend herself.
“But we were almost caught,” Esther murmured, as Lord Westbrook rose to help her to her feet. “Had you not appeared at that very moment, we might now be under his control.”
Lord Westbrook sighed and held her close, and Esther leaned into him, hearing her aunt move away as the lantern light faded just a little.
“You are safe,” Lord Westbrook told her gently, his words only for her alone to hear. “I shall not be parted from you again, my love. After all that has occurred and all that you have endured, I am determined that you shall know nothing but safety and security for the rest of your days.” He bent down and kissed her forehead lightly, his arms about her waist and his strength allowing her own fortitude to grow. “What you have done, Esther, the courage you have shown and the determination that has been evidenced time and again – I am in awe of you.” She looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. “When I thought I might lose you to Lord Hogarth, when I feared we would be too late, my future opened up to me like a darkness, like a terrible fog that I might never escape from.” His expression clouded for a moment, making her heart ache for him. “When I saw you lying here, I…” He trailed off, his voice cracking with the emotion of what he felt, and Esther shook her head before sliding her arms about his neck.
“Do not think of it now,” she whispered, as he held her close, his forehead resting against hers. “That has not come. That fate did not reach us. We are safe. I am well, and Lord Hogarth did not succeed. All is at an end. We can look to our future now, Westbrook. There is nothing left for us to fear.”
He let out his breath slowly, and Esther felt it brush across her cheek. Drawing in a deep breath, she lifted her head and looked up into his face. “Will you take me to my father, Westbrook?” she asked, a sob catching in her throat as she thought of her poor, dear papa, lying on his bed in the depths of delirium. “Will you take me to him, please?”
“At once.” Lord Westbrook leaned down, kissed her cheek, and then turned to lead her back towards the carriage, his comforting arm about her waist as they walked together. Esther leaned into him, wanting to be close to him, never wanting to separate herself from him. It was as she had said. All was now at an end, and they could now consider their future together. Nothing would separate them now. They were bonded together, their love for each other forged together by the fire of their difficulties. But they had come out from it with a stronger bond than ever before, a bond that Esther knew would not ever be broken. She would belong to him and he to her, for nothing could separate them now. The danger was passed. She had made her escape, and he had come to her rescue. Nothing would separate her from him now.
* * *
“He is very weak.”
Esther nodded, her hands twisting together as Lady Ware came to stand beside her.
“I have managed to reduce his temperature a good deal,” the doctor continued. “It is not the way of other doctors, Lady Esther, but I find that it produces better results.” He opened the door and Esther was immediately hit with a wall of cold air, making her shiver violently. “Please, come in.”
Esther hurried inside despite the cold, looking desperately about the room only to see her father lying in his bed, his face grey and his eyes closed. Quite what the doctor had done to make the room so cold, she did not know, but when she touched her father’s forehead, it soon became apparent that, despite the chill, he was still very hot indeed. He did not move nor speak when she spoke his name, sitting down in a chair beside him and grasping his hand.
“He has been through a great ordeal,” the doctor said gently, coming to Lord Leighton’s other side and shaking his head gravely, his white hair seeming to float above his head as his sharp, blue eyes looked ponderously at Lord Leighton. “I will not say that I understand why he has endured such things, but he has been very badly beaten on at least two occasions.” He threw a sharp look towards Esther, who felt her eyes fill with tears as she nodded jerkily. She could not tell the doctor why such a thing had occurred but instead merely accepted such a truth from his lips. Her father was one of the bravest men she knew, Esther thought, bending her head to press her father’s hand to her cheek.
“Will he recover?” she asked, her voice hoarse and filled with dread as she forced herself to remain silent, listening for the answer she did not truly want to hear.
The doctor cleared his throat, making Esther look up. Much to her surprise, he was smiling gently which, in turn, made her heart cry out in relief.
“Your father is a very strong man, Lady Esther,” the doctor said quietly. “He has endured a great deal and yet has not given up. I am certain this fever will break soon and that he will recover.”
Esther closed her eyes and began to sob with relief, as Lady Ware came to settle a hand on her shoulder.
“It will take some time,” the doctor continued, as Esther gave in to her tears, “but
he will make a full recovery, I am quite certain.”
Esther could barely speak, looking up at the doctor and thanking him through trembling lips. The doctor smiled gently and nodded, before excusing himself and saying that he would give them a few minutes with Lord Leighton.
“You see?” Lady Ware said, gently, trying to encourage Esther still further. “Your father will recover. He will be well again. He will be weak indeed to begin with, but all will be well soon enough.”
“I thank you,” Esther whispered, holding onto her father’s hand with both of hers and looking desperately into his face as though the sheer force of her presence would make him wake up. “Thank you for all you have done, Aunt. I do not think that I would have been able to endure it all without your comfort.”
Lady Ware squeezed Esther’s shoulder and then walked around to the other side of the bed to look down at her brother fondly. “I confess that I do not understand all that has occurred,” she said, throwing Esther a small smile. “But, mayhap, now is not the time to seek out answers.”
Esther let out a gentle laugh, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was tired, sore, and still feeling very weak, but the relief she felt at being back at home with her father washed over all other emotions. “There is a good deal to explain, Aunt,” she admitted with a wry smile. “And I assure you that all will be told to you come the morrow—when we have had time to rest and recover. For the moment, however, I will say that all has come to an end and that you and I are quite safe.”
Lady Ware nodded, a small smile on her face. “I am glad to know that,” she said truthfully. “And you have been very brave indeed, Esther. I am very proud of you.”
