Kneeling on the other side of the body, Lawrence bent and lifted it in his arms to turn it. The face was my dear brother’s. A gag was bound cruelly tight across his mouth, but the deep blue eyes that met mine were very much alive.
Lawrence freed the gag and I fought to untie the ropes on my brother’s wrists. ‘Robert! Robert, you’re safe!’ I kept repeating, giddy with relief.
Robert coughed and spluttered as he was freed from the dreadful gag. I flung my arms around him and hugged him tight while Lawrence freed his ankles.
‘I say, Charlie old girl,’ my brother managed to gasp at last. ‘Let a fellow breathe!’
I released him, stroking his grubby face, unable to believe that he was really here, alive and well. Between us, Lawrence and I helped him to his feet and supported him out of the building. Mr and Mrs Saunders, Henry, and Bridges had all reached the icehouse now and greeted us with relief.
Lawrence and Mr Saunders supported Robert back to the house. He was in pain as the blood began to circulate in his hands and feet again after so many hours. He was also dazed from a blow to the head and from lying so long in the dark.
We reached the house just as the constable arrived. Lawrence sent a servant scurrying for some clothes of his for Robert to wear and led us all into a library lined with countless bookcases and furnished with sofas and armchairs with a view out over the gardens. There, Lawrence took the constable aside and spoke earnestly to him. I could see Henry’s suspicious eyes on Lawrence, but for myself, I no longer harboured thoughts that he was guilty of any crime.
I persuaded my brother, who was still horribly pale, to sit down upon a sofa, then I sank wearily down beside him. I had to break the dreadful news to Robert that our father was dead. After his ordeal today, he was no longer surprised, though deeply distressed. He wept, his arms around me, grieving for the father he had loved.
‘What’s happened to you, Charlie?’ he asked when he could speak again. ‘Have you been ill? Is that why your hair is cut short?’
I shook my head. ‘No, I’ve been in danger but quite well.’
‘You've been up to your tricks again, haven't you?’ asked Robert, striving for a more cheerful tone after his tears. He tugged at my shorn hair. ‘Dressing as a boy? What a ragamuffin you are, Charlie.’
‘You sound like Mr Lawrence,’ I said, half laughing and half crying. ‘That’s what he calls me. I had no choice! I needed to hide from those same men who attacked you and father. They were looking for a girl.’
‘Oh, Charlie!’ exclaimed my brother, hugging me tight. ‘What a time you must have had of it! I realized something was terribly wrong when I heard from John Lawrence about my brother! Why did you not write to me?’
‘I was so afraid those men were watching the post or had spies to take letters,’ I explained.
‘Then you were wiser than me,’ said Lawrence walking over to us, the constable at his heels. ‘I did precisely what you were careful not to do, and brought your brother here. In my defence, I’d written to him before we went to London. I had no idea you were already in trouble or that I was putting Robert in danger. And I had not the slightest suspicion of who either of you really were.’ He turned to Robert. ‘I was concerned for your sister, who I thought then was your younger brother. She was so clearly well-born and so young to be making her own way as a stable boy.’
‘Is this what you’ve been up to Charlie?’ exclaimed my brother, shocked. ‘A stable boy? I’m relieved you did write to me, Lawrence!’ he said, stretching out a hand.
Lawrence shook it with a smile. ‘Please, call me John! I think we must be related, you know.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Robert, brows knit. ‘How can that be?’
‘It’s a long story, Robert,’ I said. ‘But it seems our name isn’t Smith at all. These are our mother’s parents.’ I drew Mr and Mrs Saunders forward. They had been waiting patiently all this time at the side of the room to be introduced to their other grandchild.
Robert was astonished, but delighted, to meet them. While they introduced themselves, Lawrence drew me quietly into an adjoining room. ‘Charlie, I’ve told the constable all I can,’ he said. ‘But you are going to have to explain your story to him yourself, to convince him to arrest those two scoundrels above stairs. Can you do that?’
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘You look weary,’ he said. ‘I wish I could spare you this.’
‘No, it’s important. I’m ready now.’
‘He’s in the room next to this, ready to listen to you. Would you like someone with you? Your brother, your grandmother or your friend Henry, perhaps?’
I hesitated. ‘Would you stay with me?’ I asked. ‘I’d feel safe … with you there.’
Lawrence sighed. He stepped forward, taking one of my hands in his and pressing it. ‘I was afraid you no longer trusted me,’ he said. ‘I tortured myself, when you fled with no word to me, thinking you’d run from me. I was afraid you thought … that my intentions towards you weren’t honourable.’
I shook my head; returning the pressure of his hand. ‘That wasn’t it … it was seeing you with that man! And I’d seen the poster too … it’s true: I didn’t trust you.’
‘But you don’t suspect me of plotting for the inheritance now?’
I looked up into his kind, warm hazel eyes. My heart flipped over. ‘I couldn’t think such a thing of you.’
‘But you did.’
‘Most unwillingly, I assure you.’
‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear it. This is scarcely the moment, I know, to speak of love, but, oh, Charlie, it is so good to see you!’
I smiled shyly up at him. With a quick glance at the door to check we were still unobserved, Lawrence drew me into his arms and kissed me. ‘I would have married you, no matter what Lord Rutherford said,’ he whispered to me. ‘When you were a penniless stable girl.’
I put up a hand to touch his cheek and he caught hold of it, pressing my fingertips to his lips. My heart fluttered.
‘I hope you will still wish to do so if it turns out that I am somebody altogether more distinguished?’ I asked.
‘That would depend on whether you would stoop to marry a mere steward, Miss Lawrence,’ he replied seriously. ‘Our positions are quite reversed, you see.’
‘I care nothing for that,’ I assured him. ‘How could I? And please, continue to call me Charlie!’
‘Only if you will call me John.’
‘Very well, John,’ I drew reluctantly back from his embrace. ‘But I don’t think I should keep the constable waiting any longer, should I?’
I thought, as Lawrence accompanied me, that he still looked troubled. Dimly I perceived that there was perhaps a greater gulf between us now than there had been before and it sat uneasily with him; he would prefer to be the one who generously overlooked the difference.
The constable questioned me at length. He then spoke to the others: my brother, the Saunders, Henry, and his brother. It must have made a most bewildering tale for the poor, baffled man. At length he felt he had our story clear, and Lawrence was ready to escort us back to Lord Rutherford.
‘Have you said anything to them?’ I whispered as we all followed him upstairs. ‘To his lordship or to the impostors?’
‘Not a word,’ he replied. ‘I couldn’t speak to Lord Rutherford without alerting the other men and I didn’t wish to set them on their guard just yet. They are at dinner, partaking freely of the wine, and I hope we will take them by surprise.’
Lord Rutherford, Miss Judith, and their two companions were startled when so many of us trooped into the room. My brother, hurriedly dressed in a slightly-too-small shirt and breeches of Lawrence’s, was still badly bruised and dirty after his ordeal. There was not a presentable guest among us for such a grand dining room, save only Lawrence who was as neat and immaculate as ever.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ demanded Lord Rutherford from the head of the table. ‘I ordered those two locked up for the co
nstable!’ he cried, pointing at Henry and me. ‘I don’t wish to be troubled further with them! What are you thinking of, John? And what the devil are my lodge keepers and groom doing in my dining parlour?’
‘The constable is here with us, my lord,’ said Lawrence quietly. ‘He would like a word.’ He walked over to the sideboard where some bottles and crystal glasses were laid out, poured a glass of cognac and brought it to my brother, who was looking very pale. ‘Drink this,’ he said in a low voice, pulling up a chair at the table. My brother sank gratefully into the chair and sipped at the cognac.
While he did so, Mrs Saunders boldly addressed Lord Rutherford: ‘I’m here to tell you, your lordship, that if we hadn’t done our best between us to separate Andrew and Emily all those years ago, we’d all have been spared a great deal of loss and unhappiness. I’m not putting all the blame on you. We thought Emily would be happier marrying in her own class too. But you can’t deny your part in that sorry tale. Well, we both lost our children as a result.’
‘What has that to say to anything?’ blustered Rutherford, staring around at his bewildering array of ill-assorted and unexpected extra dinner guests. He put down his cutlery and groped for his napkin.
‘They ran off together and hid themselves is what,’ said Mrs Saunders. She was unleashing anger and sorrow that had been pent up for many years. ‘All these years we thought Emily had put an end to her life, but she didn’t! She ran all the way to America with your son and they raised these two lovely children you see before you!’
‘Impossible!’ cried Rutherford. ‘That girl is a servant and a thief.’
‘I’ve been both,’ I agreed. I found it difficult to speak up before so many people, two of them my mortal enemies. I braced myself and stepped forward. ‘I worked as your servant and I stole your horse to save her life. But I seem to be your granddaughter for all that. I’m not saying I’m pleased about it, but it’s true.’
‘I can vouch for her, as I said last time I was in this room,’ said Henry. ‘And my brother will speak for me, won’t you, James? I assume you will believe a man who has served you faithfully all his life, your lordship?’
Bridges cleared his throat. ‘It’s true that he’s my brother, my lord,’ he said gruffly. ‘And it’s true that he ran off with Master Andrew twenty-four years ago.’
‘And this girl, your granddaughter and ours, is the spitting image of my Emily,’ added Mrs Saunders. ‘I could see that as soon as she came here. Even dressed as a boy as she was!’
Lord Rutherford looked at me with undisguised horror. I would have found it amusing, if it were not so serious.
‘And this is your grandson, Robert, who these two men attacked this morning, tied up, and hid in the icehouse!’ Mrs Saunders added, pointing at my father’s murderer and his accomplice.
Lord Rutherford glowered at Robert in his ill-fitting clothes. Robert looked back, still pale and bewildered. Even I could see the similarity between them, and wondered that it had not struck me before. Robert had a great look of the old lord, though his features were still softened by youth and by the sense of fun he had inherited from our mother.
I looked at my two enemies: the lawyer and the impostor. Both had blenched at the sight of Robert walking into the room. They must have known their tale was told, but it seemed they were still determined to bluster it out. The murderer, still pretending to be Robert, took a large gulp of wine, pushed back his chair, and got to his feet, looking towards Lord Rutherford.
‘I can see these two have bribed your servants to speak for them and concocted some tale,’ he said insinuatingly. ‘But I assure you, my lord, I am your grandson. I have brought you ample proof. I hold all the papers to prove myself.’ He indicated the sheaf of papers on a side table as he spoke.
‘I’ll take a look at those, sir, if that’s all right with you,’ said the constable stepping forward and taking the papers into his possession. The impostor looked uneasy. ‘What can they show you?’ he demanded, pointing at us.
Lord Rutherford’s eyes swivelled back to Robert and me. He looked confused and unsure of himself; I’d never seen him at a loss before. He passed a tired hand over his face. ‘It’s a fair point,’ he said. ‘What proof do you have?’
‘I had all the papers that man holds, until he stole them by holding Belle at knifepoint,’ I cried angrily.
Robert shrugged. ‘I have no proof at all,’ he admitted. ‘For this is all news to me. He turned to me. ‘Related to a lord?’ he asked. ‘I have to admit, it don’t seem in the least likely, Charlie, old girl. Where’d you get this notion?’
‘There is a great deal to explain,’ I told him. ‘I only began to suspect it recently myself, though the puzzle had been falling into place for a while.’
‘Tell you what though,’ said Robert shaking his head. ‘I don’t understand why these two men should attack me, hide me away, and steal my uniform if they did not wish to do some mischief! It’s not honest, egad!’
‘We did no such thing!’ cried the lawyer. ‘It’s all a lie!’
‘You did,’ said Miss Judith, speaking for the first time. ‘For I saw you. I was out for a ride and I watched it all from the copse. That’s how I knew where to direct the rescue party.’ She smiled triumphantly as everyone gasped.
‘It was you who came in to look at me?’ asked Robert, astonished. ‘Why did you not untie me?’
‘I thought it would be more amusing and instructive to let things play out,’ said Miss Judith. ‘And I was right, wasn’t I?’
‘You still have no proof of your identity!’ insisted the murderer, his eyes flicking from one of us to another in growing panic.
‘Wait!’ I cried, suddenly remembering that I did have proof. I pulled the lace that hung about my neck and drew the ring from inside my bodice. Pulling it over my head, I walked to the head of the table and held it out to Lord Rutherford.
‘My father’s ring, my lord,’ I said as he took it and examined it. ‘It never left his finger until he returned to England. These despicable ruffians never knew I had it, so they could not steal it from me. It bears the Rutherford crest, so I assume you will recognize it?’
‘Indeed,’ breathed Rutherford, turning the ring to read the letters engraved inside. ‘Andrew Stephen Lawrence. It was my gift to him on his twenty-first birthday. Just before he left Deerhurst.’ His voice shook. I knew we had reached a turning point.
He looked up at me with new interest in his eyes. ‘Charlotte, you said your name was? That was my dear wife’s name. Andrew’s mother.’ Then his gaze moved to my brother. ‘You do resemble Andrew most strongly,’ he admitted.
At those words, the man pretending to be Robert made a dash for the door. The lawyer was slower to move, seemingly frozen in horror at the unravelling of their plan. But as my father’s murderer ran from the room, he fell straight into the arms of the butler and three footmen, who swiftly overpowered him.
‘Take care, he’s sure to have a knife!’ I cried. A quick search revealed the knife that had done so much harm concealed in his boot and it was taken from him. Servants then seized the lawyer too.
‘I trusted you,’ snapped Lord Rutherford, staring at him in growing disgust and horror as he struggled in his captors’ arms. ‘I paid you handsomely to track down my son and heir, and you had him murdered! My own son!’
He was pale and shaken. Lawrence hastened to pour him a glass of wine. ‘We both trusted him,’ said Lawrence quietly as he took the glass to Lord Rutherford. ‘This has been a disgraceful betrayal, my lord.’
‘You’re mistaken!’ cried the lawyer, terrified. ‘I’ve served you faithfully for many years, my lord! It was nothing to do with me! I believed this man’s tale! I believed he was Robert Lawrence, your grandson! I brought him to you in good faith!’
‘Don’t put it off on me!’ snarled the murderer. ‘It was all your damned idea for me to impersonate the heir so we could profit one day!’
‘Take them away,’ shuddered Rutherford, dropping
his head in his hands. ‘My own son!’ he repeated, distraught. His shoulders shook for a moment and I wondered if he were crying. After a moment, he straightened himself with an effort and cleared his throat fiercely. ‘There will be a deuce of a scandal over this,’ he said in what was a good imitation of his usual sharp tone. ‘I shall never be able to hold up my head again.’
‘I don’t think you will have any difficulty with that, my lord,’ said Lawrence with a slight smile. He looked over at me and his smile grew warm, lighting up his eyes.
Lord Rutherford was looking at me too, but with a much less enamoured expression in his eyes. ‘I think it will be devilishly difficult to live down. A couple of American savages as my heir and granddaughter? A girl who has been working in my own stables? Dressed as a boy?’ His voice gave way in sheer horror at the thought. ‘There is nothing else for it; you will have to be married as soon as possible before it becomes known. I shall find you a suitable husband!’
‘With respect, my lord, I should prefer to make my own choice.’
‘What? Nonsense! Good God, what would you know about how to choose a husband? We’ve had one shocking mésalliance in the family, it seems; we hardly need another!’ Lord Rutherford glanced at my shabby dress and short hair and could not repress a shudder. ‘No doubt your upbringing was shocking. But … ’
‘You are speaking of my parents!’ I interrupted with a touch of anger. ‘I would consider myself privileged to be as happy as they were!’
I was inclined to announce my attachment then and there, but meeting Lawrence’s eyes across the room, I saw him shake his head slightly at me. Understanding he wished me to leave the matter to him, I bit back the words I had been prepared to utter.
In any case, Lord Rutherford was in full flow once more: ‘You understand nothing, my girl, believe me!’ he said. ‘Take my word for it, marriage in our class is not about love, as I’ve explained to Judith many, many times!’
‘But you are wrong, grandpapa,’ interpolated Miss Judith from her place at his right hand. ‘It’s what I’ve been telling you forever. But you cling to the past. People these days marry for love. You’ve forbidden me to do so and made me very unhappy.’
Runaway Page 24
