The man in the shadows smiled to himself at the sound. The smile faded when he stepped from the bushes to examine his victim’s prone figure. He had not expected Chadwell to answer Penelope’s plea.
Kicking at the sprawled body, he was forced to reconsider his plan. Revenge on Chadwell was very well and good, but now he knew it was actually Graham who was his enemy. And as if knowing his role had been discovered, Graham had taken to hiding in the protection of that Gothic town house of his. The note was supposed to lure him out.
Chadwell moaned and his assailant scowled. He had managed to intercept that one letter from Penelope with the help of one of Graham’s kitchen maids, but that trick wouldn’t work again. The maid had been fired, and he couldn’t rely on the lady staying in the country forever. With Chadwell out of the way Graham would have to come forward, but only if his lady were abducted in truth this time. A second forgery wouldn’t succeed.
Anticipation flowed in his veins. These last years of avoiding trouble had been dull, even with the war to add excitement. He enjoyed a challenge, and this one stood to gain him freedom. No one but Graham would suspect him. With Graham out of the way he could do anything he pleased.
With a sardonic smile he recovered his horse. Lifting Chadwell onto the beast would be a chore, but it should be amusing to imagine the American’s reaction when he woke to his new surroundings. He would wish he had stayed in his own country to face the entire British army.
The wide street with its elegant mansions was relatively empty as the carriage pulled through the gates to the Trevelyan town house. Most of the occupants of these houses had retired to their country estates for the summer, but they would soon return for the fall sessions. Penelope paid little heed to the chimney sweep on the neighboring roof or the window washer rubbing panes across the way. Her thoughts were on the reaction of Graham when she appeared on his doorstep.
Would he be angry? She was interfering, and he had made it plain that he did not want her involved. Of course he would be angry, but she could not tolerate the silence and suspicion any longer. She had to know where she stood.
Guy’s words of the day before had haunted her all night. What had he meant when he had said Graham would never have married a mousy schoolteacher? Graham had married her because of her love for children, and she certainly wasn’t one of the world’s greatest beauties. That made her close enough to a mousy schoolteacher in her own eyes. Was Guy telling her that Graham saw her in a different light? As far as she was aware, he had married her for Alexandra’s sake and because she was not afraid of him.
What pretense could Graham be hiding behind? She suspected he was involved in something here in London to do with Chadwell and his activities. There could be some pretense involved in that, but it should have naught to do with her. Guy was becoming as fanciful as Dolly. Next, he would be patting the gargoyles on the head and calling them by name.
Penelope smiled up at the ugly stone creatures guarding the doors. They would prevent evil from entering the house, no doubt. It was a wonder the carvings did not keep everyone from entering the house.
A servant dashed to open the door for her. She knew immediately that Graham was not here. Despite John at her side, the driver with her bags, and the footman who had scurried from the back, she knew the house was empty. It echoed hollow as the foyer filled with footsteps. Shadows flickered on the ceilings from the lamps hastily lit in the sconces on the wall. Heavy draperies hid the windows, and the covered furniture remained untouched from when they had left last June. She turned toward the stairs, but she knew Graham would not be there.
Minutes later as her maid laid out clean clothes and poured warm water in the basin, John knocked at her door to tell Penelope what she already sensed. Graham had come and gone.
“And Mr. Chadwell? Has he been here?”
Knowledge flickered behind the man’s eyes, but he apparently decided against revealing it. “He’s gone, too, milady. They ain’t been seen since your letter arrived the maid says.”
Penelope studied the servant. “Then he received it. Could something have happened on the road between here and Hampshire?”
John shrugged his narrow shoulders. “There could have been an accident, milady. They say as he took that big stallion of his and left in a tearing hurry, but he’s always got his cards about him. Looks to me like someone would have let us know if they found him.”
“Thieves could have picked his pockets. Or he could have taken one of his shortcuts across the fields and no one’s found him yet. We’ll have to hunt everywhere.”
“Yes, milady.”
Politely, he didn’t mention the possibility racing through Penelope’s head: that this was the season for men to be out in their fields and that hiding a man the size of Graham would be no easy task.
A light repast was prepared for her supper, but Penelope had no stomach for it. She left it on the table and carried a candle to Graham’s chamber. Perhaps he had left some evidence of where he had gone.
Finding nothing but the massive bed they had never shared, Penelope hurried on to the library, avoiding the memories. Memories made her eyes sting and brought a rush of fear. Nothing could have happened to Graham. Not Graham. He had survived that terrible accident. He could not be brought down by some petty thief. She would not believe it. They would find him, and shortly she would be in his arms again. They had a whole life ahead of them. There would be more children. The nursery would be full of laughter, and Graham would laugh with them. She refused to believe anything else.
The library had its own set of painful memories, but they all fled the instant Penelope laid eyes upon the letter lying open on the table. The paper was much the same as she had used to write to Graham. She had not used the Stanhope stationery but the few precious pieces of blank vellum she had hoarded in her desk at the cottage. Even the writing looked like hers, although a little heavier. She had never learned to press firmly on the nib. Some of the words were even the same—whole sentences, in fact. She stared at the letter in disbelief. It was hers, but not hers. How could that be?
Her plea for Graham’s presence stood out loud and clear, but what was this of being held against her will? Hands shaking, Penelope read the letter again, slowly scanning the words and feeling the impact Graham must have suffered as he read them. How could someone be so cruel, and why? Why would anyone want to make Graham think she had been abducted?
Chadwell would know. She had helped him when he needed it. He would help her. Nell would know where to find him. He might even be with her. All she had to do was find Nell. For that, she would need someone familiar with the East End.
Pippin. Pippin knew Chadwell. Pippin had carried his messages before.
Penelope refolded the letter and swept out in the direction of the stables.
Pippin watched her approach, but he did not move from the side of the large yellow mongrel to which he clung. Penelope observed the ugly beast with amusement and stopped to scratch behind its ears.
“Where did you find him?”
“’E followed me ’ere, ’e did,” Pippin answered warily.
“What do you feed him?” The dog’s limpid eyes watched Penelope with such gratitude that she had to smile.
“There’s a bloke in the kitchen what ’elps me find scraps. ’E don’t eat much, and ’e’s a good dog. ’E guards the ’ouse, ’e does. Ain’t no bloomin’ thief goin’ to get in ’ere.”
“Well then, he certainly deserves his dinner, doesn’t he? But dogs take a lot of care. You will have to bathe him and brush him to keep away the fleas and dirt. Will you do that?”
Pippin nodded eagerly. “Yes, mum. I been doin’ that. One of ’em grooms, ’e been teachin’ me. I do the same for Mate ’ere as ’e does for ’em ’orses.”
“Mate?”
“That’s what ’is lordship calls me,” Pippin answered proudly. “And ’at’s what me Mate is. So’s I thought if it’s good ’nough for me, it’s good ’nough for ’im.”
Penelope would have laughed but for this mention of Graham. Anxiously, she inquired, “When did you see his lordship, Pippin?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’ know. ’E comes and goes. Few days back, I reckon.”
“And Mr. Chadwell? Have you seen him?”
The boy looked at her suspiciously. “’Course. Ain’t I supposed to?”
That was a curious question, but Penelope didn’t linger long over it. “I need to find Mr. Chadwell. It’s very important, Pippin. Do you think you could help me find him?”
He brightened momentarily, then frowned. “I can go arsk Nell, but ’is lordship said you ain’t ever to go back there again. Me and Mate will go. ’E’s got a good sniffer. ’E’ll sniff ’im out in no time.”
Penelope dug her fingers into the dog’s thick skin. “I need to talk to Nell if you can’t find him. Can you bring her back here?”
The wariness returned to the boy’s eyes. “She won’t like it, but I’ll bring ’er, if you ask. ’Ow’s Goldie? ’Ave you seen ’er?”
Penelope forced herself to relax. “Just a few days ago. She’s doing beautifully. She had on the prettiest pink dress, and she’s laughing and making noises that sound just like she’s talking. We’ll go to see her sometime, if you like.”
“Yes, mum, milady. I’d like that. Me and Mate better gets goin’. It gets dark early now.”
“You’ll take the carriage. I’ll not have you walking those streets alone. Let me call John.”
John appeared ready to protest when commanded to seek out Chadwell’s mistress with Pippin’s help, but he apparently thought better of it. Graham’s servant would have no familiarity with the East End.
Penelope watched them go with trepidation. She feared to send them where she could not go herself, but she had little choice. She wished she had brought an army of footmen with her.
She walked back toward the house.
The lone figure standing in the shadows inside the gate watched her depart through narrowed eyes. If Graham were in there, he would never capture her quietly.
But the snatches of conversation he had caught caused him to suspect she was alone. If Graham had already escaped his lair, it was all the more important to act fast.
He watched a light appear in an upstairs window, then traced the path of the roofline near the window. Every house in London had a means of reaching the roof so a man might climb up to clean the innumerable chimneys. This one was no exception. Smiling to himself, he located the ledge that would give him access to that room.
Lady Trevelyan was in for a bit of a surprise.
Not longer after, the lady gasped as he applied the cloth soaked in sweet smelling fumes over her mouth and nostrils. She struggled to rouse herself from sleep, but the gagging, noxious fumes sent her back into a sea of darkness.
He hovered above her until she lay still, then released the rag. The substance was dangerous, not to mention volatile, but he had used it before. Sometimes it was convenient to render a victim senseless, and it was easy to do after the mark had a tumble in bed with one of his girls. Out like a light they would be, for as long as he needed it to empty their pockets or their houses or rifle their offices. Then they would wake and blame it on a surfeit of wine and women.
He looked down on Penelope with contempt. She had not changed out of her dark poplin traveling gown. Obviously she expected the others back soon and intended to wait up for them. He had brought girls to the house like this, and by the time they woke, they were fully ruined, but this one would be more trouble than she was worth. He had other plans for her.
Getting her out of here would be easy. The houses’ secret passages and hiding places had been sources of great amusement since they were boys. The one to the street was always kept locked from the outside, but from in here it would provide no difficulty. Graham really should have blocked all those old tunnels long ago. It made things much too easy.
Swinging Penelope into his arms, he headed for Graham’s chambers.
Chapter 34
The cold penetrated Penelope’s senses first. She shivered, then reflexively gasped for air. It came damp and moldy but clean of noxious fumes. A warm, anxious voice whispered in her ear.
“Penny! Thank God, Penny. Wake up.”
Strong arms lifted her, shaking her slightly, and her eyes fluttered. The masculine voice was so familiar, so anxious and tinged with fear, that she wanted to reassure its owner, but her arms wouldn’t quite function. She felt funny all over, and her stomach was queasy. She shivered again, and he drew her into his lap. Her head rested on a broad shoulder, and she felt the coat wrapped around her, trapping her against the heat of his chest. It felt good, and she snuggled closer, her hand instinctively curling into the brocade of his waistcoat. Hard, masculine thighs warmed her bottom, and she squirmed, seeking a more comfortable position.
This time, a hint of laughter laced his voice. “Penny, my dear, sweet Penny, I love you dearly, I do, but if you do not soon wake I will be forced to take advantage of your helplessness. I am a starving man and you are a wickedly attractive woman and even these unfortunate circumstances cannot dampen my ardor.”
His words caused sufficient alarm to wake her. Through his tight trousers and her thin gown she could feel the full length of his maleness pressing into her. The sensation was not unpleasant, but with wakefulness came awareness, and her eyes flew open.
The dim light of this damp chamber was sufficient to note disheveled dark curls and laughing eyes. “Clifton!”
Something besides laughter lurked in those golden depths. She could not quit staring into them. Touching the narrow scar stopping dangerously near his eye, she had to escape by sliding from his lap.
Her feet a the damp floor, and her glance wavered to take in her surroundings. Chadwell rose from the narrow bench, supporting her with his arm as she absorbed their plight.
“Where are we?” she whispered, not backing away from his closeness as she studied the rough rock walls. The cubicle could be no bigger than a tall man in either length or width, and she turned her head toward the source of light. An iron grate exposed them to the elements, and the morning sun sent shadows down the towering walls.
He answered her questioning gaze. “He’s rigged some type of winch outside and lowered you in a basket. From the feel of my head, I think he just dropped me down.”
“Who?” Growing alarm erased the last vestige of ether.
“You did not see him, either?” he asked.
“I. . .I must have fallen asleep.” She searched her memory, and the pain of Graham’s disappearance returned. “I was in bed, asleep. I woke when they covered my face with a rag. I don’t remember anything else.”
Chadwell cursed and stared up at the square of light, his jaw tensing. “They seem to have got things a bit backward. I came out here expecting to find you, but ended up in this hole by myself. You were a little tardy in arriving.”
Penelope faced him with puzzlement. “I thought Graham went looking for me after receiving that horrible letter. I found it in his town library. It was a forgery. They must have taken the letter I mailed from Hampshire and copied parts of it. But Graham has disappeared, too. Did he send you after me?”
Chadwell shook his head in denial, and Penelope brightened in excitement. She caught his hand with renewed hope.
“You read the letter first? Then that means Graham has escaped! Don’t you see? That letter was meant to bring Graham out from hiding, but if it never reached him, then he is still safe. John and Pippin will discover I am gone, and they will send everyone looking for us. Graham will know what to do. Do you know where he is?”
Chadwell opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head mutely. “I know nothing other than that letter. I should not have acted so hastily, but your words were very effective.” He shrugged apologetically.
Remembering how he’d run to rescue Nell, Penelope flushed a little. “Is it the same man, do you think? The one that abducted Nell?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in it. I had just found out some very ugly things about him when your letter arrived. I’d thought he meant to hold you until he left the country, but I’m afraid there may be a little more to it than that.”
“But Graham knows about it, doesn’t he? He can go to the authorities when he discovers us missing.”
Tiredly Chadwell ran his hand through his hair. “It will do no good to worry, Penelope. There is some bread and cheese in that basket under the bench. It seems we were not meant to starve, in any case. Why don’t we have a bite to eat instead of trying to puzzle this out on empty stomachs?”
Brought back to the realization of their situation, Penelope looked around with growing dismay. They had only the narrow bench to sit or lie upon. A tin pitcher and cup hung on a piece of wood jammed between the rocks, presumably holding their supply of water, but there was no basin for washing. Worst of all, there seemed nothing suitable for a chamber pot, and naturally, she discovered this to be her most pressing need.
“Is there no way out of here?” she whispered, her gaze tracing the cold stone walls for any sign of a door.
Chadwell reached out to a jagged rock protuberance and tried to shake it. “Solid, Penny. I have gone over them all. There used to be an old keep here. This would have been part of the dungeon. From what I understand of the times, we are fortunate not to find a skeleton. Our ancestors tended to be a murderous lot.”
“Man has not changed so very much then, has he?” She shivered and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, clutching at her elbows. “I am glad they did not put us in separate chambers, but it will be a trifle inconvenient. How long have you been down here?”
He leaned against the wall farthest from her. “Not long enough to be so desperate as to take a lady against her will, Penelope. I was only jesting earlier, surely you know that.”
She regarded him with wry humor. He really did have a devastatingly handsome countenance, but rape or seduction had not been on her mind. Perhaps it should have been, but she could not believe this charming man guilty of such crimes.
Love Forever After Page 30
