A Rake's Redemption

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Molly sighed heavily as she twisted her hair and wove in pins to keep it in place. “I really think you should let Anderson accompany you, Mum. The streets aren’t safe.”

  Amanda stopped herself from shaking her head to make sure she didn’t pull a stray wisp from her maid’s hand. They had repeatedly had this conversation. Molly had taken on an obsession. But Amanda refused.

  “Have you thought of getting a carriage, Mum,” Molly said as she tucked and poked. “Anderson could ride on the back, like a proper footman.”

  Amanda couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head this time.

  “No, Molly, no carriage. If I got one, it would mean hiring a coachman, and a stable boy to care for the horses. No, a hired cab is more than adequate.”

  The maid pouted as she slowly nodded, obviously giving up for the moment, but Amanda well knew the argument had not ended. It would be brought up again and again until she probably gave in.

  “There,” Molly said as she stepped back and examined her work. “You are beautiful. Will Lord Warwick be there Mum?”

  Amanda’s heart jumped at the mention of his name. Did Molly know something? No, impossible.

  “I am sure he will be,” she answered. “He is good friends with Lord Bradford after all. Why do you ask?”

  Molly smiled as she reached up to wipe away a stray piece of dust from her mistress’s gown as her cheeks grew slightly pink.

  “It is just that the other morning, Mum. When I came to wake you. I found you tossing and turning as if your sleep was troubled and you called out his name. As clear as day, Mum. I thought…”

  Amanda froze, what had she said in her sleep? Her heart slammed into her chest as she fought to take in a deep breath. No, this could not be. She must put her off, Molly could not be allowed to think such a thing was possible.

  Forcing her shoulders into a shrug, Amanda shook her head. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean. I’m sure you are mistaken. Why would I call out for Lord Warwick? Really, Molly, you do need to work on that overactive imagination of yours. It is unbecoming in a lady’s maid.”

  Molly examined her closely for a long second then looked down. “I don’t know Mum, maybe I was mistaken. You were asleep after all.”

  Amanda sighed heavily. “Tell Anderson to get a cab. I want to get there early to help Lady Bradford.”

  Molly nodded as she quickly dropped a curtsey then turned to leave.

  “And Molly,” Amanda said as the maid’s hand pulled the door open. “Thank you, I do believe you are right, I do feel like a princess. Thank you.”

  The maid smiled, obviously relieved to see that her mistress was not upset with her. She dropped a curtsey again and left to tell Anderson to get a cab.

  Amanda sighed as she forced her heart to slow down. Molly didn’t know anything and eventually, she would stop dreaming about Lord Warwick. Eventually, this pain in the bottom of her soul would disappear. At least she prayed that it might.

  As the cab pulled to a stop in front of the Bradford’s home Amanda took a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

  “Just make it through the night,” she whispered to herself. She could do this.

  Thanking the Bradford’s footman for handing her down, she stepped into the house to find a beehive of activity. Lady Weston was directing the staff as if it were her house. Olivia glanced at Amanda and rolled her eyes.

  Amanda had to bite back a laugh. Somethings never changed.

  Between Lady Weston. An expert in such things if you asked her. Lady Alice, Nathanial’s wife and actual mistress of the house, and Olivia who had grown up there and been in charge before Lady Alice’s arrival. It must all confuse the staff immensely.

  “I came early to help,” she told her friend. “But it looks as if everything is well in hand.”

  Olivia smiled as she took Amanda’s hands in hers and leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “Bradford has sworn that Lady Weston would put General Wellesley to shame when it comes to organizing a campaign.”

  Amanda let herself laugh.

  “Come,” Olivia said, pulling her towards the parlor. “We can wait in here. Benson should be announcing dinner very shortly. I have talked to Cook and we will be done with plenty of time to freshen up before the guests for the dance arrive.”

  Amanda nodded. Olivia ran a tight ship. She had learned how at an early age.

  “Is everyone here?” Amanda asked as she held her breath.

  Olivia nodded, “Everyone except for Lord Warwick. He sent word that he would be late, but promised to make the dance.”

  Amanda’s soul relaxed. A small reprieve she thought. It would be so much easier to hide her feelings in a room full of people.

  “It is strange though,” Olivia continued. “He asked that an additional guest be added to the list. Besides Lord Hicks who he had already requested. I must say, the man has more secrets than my brother. A fact I thought I would never see.”

  Amanda's stomach dropped. Had he requested his new lover be invited. Some beautiful widow. A woman with whom he could dally and the ton not become upset.

  “Who did he want you to invite?” she asked as she held her breath.

  Olivia’s brow furrowed in doubt. “A Mr. Frederick Bartholomew. I have never heard of him. Have you?”

  Amanda’s stomach fell. What was the man up to?

  “No, I don’t believe I have,” Amanda answered as she frantically tried to calm her racing heart. The man was playing with fire. They had already tried to kill him because they believed he was getting too close. She had a faint stain on the floor in her hallway that proved it.

  What would Lord Hicks do if he saw him with Freddie Bartholomew?

  Just what she needed this night. One more thing to worry and fret about. It was bad enough just seeing Lord Warwick again, but now she needed to worry about his safety as well.

  It was going to be a long evening.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lord Warwick handed his hat to Benson and slipped out of his cape before he handed it over as well.

  “Lord Bradford?” he asked the butler as he scanned the overflow of people from the ballroom.

  “In the far corner, My Lord,” Benson told him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “A friend of mine, a Mr. Bartholomew will be arriving soon. Please make sure he finds me.”

  “Of course, My Lord,” Benson said with a slight bow.

  Warwick took a calming breath. Tonight would work or it wouldn’t. It would push Hicks into doing something rash or it wouldn’t. But he had no choice. Not really. Besides, he needed to end this so that he could focus on his true problem. Miss Amanda Waters.

  Speaking of which, there she was walking towards him with a determined glare. Her blue dress highlighting every curve. So much better than those pillar looking dresses woman wore these days. This one actually had a waist. A fact that he found particularly enjoyable.

  “Miss Waters,” he said as he bowed and gently kissed the back of her hand. He felt a sudden surge of energy travel through him. The woman was remarkable. The way her eyes sparkled, the determined set of her chin. Everything pulled at him with an invisible force.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  His brow furrowed. “Greeting a woman of the ton. This is how it is done. Especially one as lovely as yourself.”

  Her eyes softened for a brief moment before she collected herself. “Not that,” she hissed. “Bartholomew. Olivia told me you invited him. And Lord Hicks is already here, talking to Nathanial. Do you want them to shoot you again?”

  Warwick smiled, she was worried about him. “If they do, it will be the evidence I need, don’t you think?”

  She rolled her eyes at him and turned to leave. Obviously unwilling to be associated with such a stupid plan.

  “Amanda,” he said as he reached out and took her arm. She looked down at his hand then up at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

  “Save a dance for me, will you?”

&nbs
p; She froze as she peered into his eyes for a long second then leaned in closer. “I thought we were to be cold and distant,” she whispered. Being careful that no one else would here.

  He smiled at her, “I have made several adjustments to my plans.”

  Her eyes grew very big at his words.

  “Besides,” he continued. “One dance together will not hurt us. Although, if I had my way, you would dance with no one but myself ever again.”

  Her face drained of color as he stepped past her. Good, he thought, let her chew on that for a while, perhaps it would keep her diverted long enough for him to finish what he needed to finish tonight.

  Ah, there he was, Lord Hicks, stood next to the towering Nathanial Caldwell. Perfect, he thought as he scanned the room placing people. Nathanial’s wife, Lady Alice and several of her friends stood by the garden doors.

  Olivia and Bradford were dancing but not with each other. He noticed Bradford shoot Olivia’s partner a deep frown. For the first time, he understood the feeling of possessiveness in his friend’s eyes.

  Lady Weston was sitting with the old biddies along the far wall. Four old women perched like wizened owls. Judging, assessing, ready to issue a disapproving glance at the slightest mistake.

  Knowing Lady Weston, she had placed herself there purposely to ensure nothing reflected poorly on the family. As she would say, - best to stop rumors before they start.

  His Grace, the Duke of Hamilton and his Duchess were also in attendance. Both of them dancing together. The two of them looking at each other like lovebirds trapped in their own world. But then they had never worried about decorum.

  As he wove his way through the crowd, he tuned out the sharp smell of a dozen different perfumes. With a little extra effort, he ignored the orchestra. All he could see was his quarry.

  The man was short, especially next to Nathanial. A fact that Hicks did not even consider. Many such short men would have felt intimidated, or embarrassed and found a reason to be elsewhere. But not Hicks.

  Lord Warwick studied the man. Narrow shoulders, a balding head, nothing significant. But the eyes. They told a different story. Intelligent, almost feral. Like a wild dog. Eyes that missed nothing.

  “Caldwell,” Warwick said as he stepped up next to the two men. His friend Nathanial nodded back then to the man next to him.

  “You know Lord Hicks, I believe,” Nathanial said, raising a questioning eyebrow. An expression that could mean simple curiosity. Or as Warwick well knew, that was secretly asking him why his sister had been forced to invite such a disagreeable guest as Lord Hicks.

  “Of course,” he said as he extended his hand to the short man. “Wasn’t it last year, at court?”

  “Two years ago,” Lord Hicks said as he took Lord Warwick’s hand.

  Both of them held their grip, as they stared directly at each other for a long moment. The tension grew as Lord Warwick fought the impulse to punch the man there and then. Right in the middle of Olivia’s ball.

  Lord Hicks stared back at him, almost daring him to take action.

  “Yes, … Well …” Nathanial said. “Um. If you will excuse me. I believe my wife is signaling that she expects a dance.”

  The tense moment was broken, both men released each other’s hand and stepped back.

  “Of course, Caldwell,” Warwick said. “Please ask Lady Alice to save me a dance.”

  Nathanial snorted as he shook his head. Without another word, the big man left them, parting the crowd as he made his way to his wife.

  “A remarkable man,” Lord Hicks said with a strange smile. “I believe his grasp reaches into almost every part of the empire. What knowledge he must possess.”

  Lord Warwick’s stomach clenched up. So that was how it was to be.

  “Yes,” he said, “And once that knowledge of the empire was merged with Lady Alice’s insights to the ton. It has made him even more powerful.”

  Lord Hicks nodded as he turned from watching Nathanial to look back at Lord Warwick.

  “Are you well enough to dance, Warwick?” Lord Hicks asked with a false sense of concern.

  Lord Warwick’s brow narrowed in confusion, “Why would you think that I wasn’t?”

  Lord Hicks shrugged slightly. “Oh, I thought I saw a slight limp as you made your way through the crowd. What, an old wound perhaps?”

  Warwick pushed back the rising anger, the man was too confident. Too sure of himself. Why? What did Lord Hicks know that he didn’t?

  “Oh, it is nothing. A slight altercation.”

  Lord Hicks smiled knowingly. “Yes, London has become such a cesspool. Why I heard that a man was shot only last month. Twice in fact. I heard that he crawled off like a wounded beast only to disappear.”

  Warwick smiled down at the man, “That would be a concern. It is common knowledge that wounded animals often return and take down their attacker.”

  Lord Hicks laughed slightly as he raised his glass for another sip of his drink. “I have always found that it is best to just put the dumb beast out of his misery.”

  The man knows I can’t take action against him, Lord Warwick thought. The man was almost taunting him, daring him to stop him.

  “That is where we differ, Lord Hicks. I only believe in disposing of an animal if it betrays its master. There really is nothing worse than disloyalty. Don’t you think?”

  Lord Hicks’ eyebrows rose slightly at the veiled insult but he quickly gathered himself. “That would depend upon the master. Now wouldn’t it.”

  Warwick nodded as he raised his glass. The two of them stood there, a tense wall of pure awkwardness between them. He so wanted to put his hands around this man’s neck and drag him to the chopping block.

  Time, he reminded himself. Give it time. This man would pay for his betrayal. He would pay for all the soldiers and sailors who had lost their lives because of the information he had fed to the French.

  Finally, after a long silent minute, Lord Warwick spotted a head bobbing through the crowd. This should be interesting he thought. Let us see if you are able to maintain that smug expression for very long.

  “Ah, Bartholomew, there you are,” Lord Warwick said as he pulled the young man towards them.

  Freddie Bartholomew looked as if he had just been forced to drink Hemlock. As if he knew he was to die within the next few minutes. His eyes darted to Lord Hicks, then back to Lord Warwick. It was very obvious he desperately wished to be anywhere else.

  “I believe you know Lord Hicks,” Warwick said to the young man.

  “Um, … Yes,” Freddie said, quickly glancing at Lord Hicks as he offered a quick bow. He was obviously worried if he had said the wrong thing.

  “Oh, yes,” Lord Hicks said, “Freddie and I are old friends.”

  Warwick had to fight not to smile. The man’s face had lost some of its color and his eyes were probing Freddie. Desperately trying to understand what had happened The man had not known about the arrest. Interesting, his talons did not extend into the King’s jail.

  Good, Warwick thought. That first chink in the armor. That look of surprise behind the man’s eyes was most satisfying.

  He smiled to himself as he answered his own question, Lord Hicks had lost a little of the smugness.

  “Yes,” Lord Warwick began. “Freddie and I met just the other day. Such interesting stories we shared.”

  Lord Hicks pursed his lips as he nodded. Looking at the young man, silently sending some unknown message. Then, very quietly, he looked out over the room, examining exits and possible routes of escape.

  Yes, the man was worried. For the first time, Lord Warwick saw a hint of concern. Slowly, Lord Hicks was realizing that things might not be as safe as he had assumed. Only after seeing that the room remained free of his King’s men did his shoulders slump in relief. There would be no arrest, no not tonight.

  Turning back to Freddie, Lord Hicks cocked an eyebrow. “I am surprised to see you tonight, Freddie, this is a little higher on the ladder than your normal e
vent. It seems you are raising yourself quite well.”

  Freddie blushed as he quickly looked down at his feet. “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Oh, I asked Lady Bradford to add Freddie to the guest list. We have become so close and there are so many things about the young man I have yet to discover.”

  A little more blood drained from Lord Hicks’ face as he slowly nodded. “Of course. Um… now if you will excuse me, I have spotted someone I must talk to.”

  Lord Warwick stopped his lips from cracking into a broad smile. “Yes, I understand perfectly.”

  Lord Hicks froze for a long second as he looked up into Lord Warwick’s eyes. The two men stared at each other, exchanging messages that only the other would ever understand.

  “I will say goodnight, then,” Lord Hicks said as he placed his glass on a side table. “Freddie, until we see each other again.”

  Freddie swallowed hard, “Yes, My Lord.”

  Warwick chuckled to himself as he watched the man walk away. He had accomplished his goal this night. He had put Lord Hicks on the defensive. Now it was but a matter of stepping back and watching what happened.

  His men were in place. Each of the culprits had a dozen men keeping them under observation. Hicks himself had the best dozen, three shifts of four. None of them would be allowed to escape. All Warwick could hope for was that Hicks tried to contact his conduit and use him to escape.

  Turning to the young man next to him, Warwick smiled. “Go find my man Sanderson, he will escort you back to your new home at Newgate.”

  Freddie sighed visibly as he slumped in on himself.

  “You did well, Freddie.” Lord Warwick continued. “You might very well have kept your head tonight. Literally.”

  Warwick watched him turn and slink out of the room. There was no need to worry about the man trying to escape. He well knew he would lose everything if he was to attempt such folly.

  Sighing heavily, Warwick took a long sip from his flute of champagne. Although truth be told, he really would have preferred whiskey. Perhaps he could raid Bradford’s study.

  The thought had no sooner occurred to him when a tiny feminine hand grabbed his arm and spun him around.