The Nobody: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix)
Page 21
It dawned upon Richard that his friends were brandishing pistols in a manner that struck him as theatrical in the extreme. He was seized with an overwhelming longing for his quizzing glass. Lacking this necessary article, it was difficult to properly express his emotions upon this occasion. His lips twitched.
“Er—I beg your pardons but is this a rescue party?” inquired Lord Kilverton politely. “How very much obliged to you I am! Really, one does not know quite what to say. I had hoped you might arrive a little sooner, of course—prior to my disposing of the danger myself—but after all, it is the thought that counts.”
Mr. Montague, much moved, strode forward and clapped Lord Kilverton on the back so heartily that Kilverton winced. “Aye, you wouldn’t believe me, would you? But I wasn’t far wrong.”
“My dear Ned, you were not wrong at all—hit the nail squarely on the head, in fact.”
“No, no—for I thought your uncle was behind all these attempts on your life!”
Kilverton’s brows lifted. “And so he was. At least—one assumes, naturally—” He glanced round the room in surprise, and took in the meaning of the scene for the first time. Captain Talgarth’s pistol was leveled not at Oswald, but at Sir Egbert, who was still lying facedown upon the floor.
Kilverton pressed a hand to his brow. “I see,” he said slowly. “I think—yes, I really think I had better sit down for a moment.” He waved a hand faintly toward Oswald. “And perhaps someone should untie my good uncle.”
Chapter XXIII
Lady Colhurst, expecting a visit from her grandson Richard, suffered a vague sense of ill-usage when her granddaughter and prospective granddaughter-in-law were announced. Her habits were regular, and her mind was not elastic. The unexpected never failed to annoy her. She peered suspiciously at her footman and thumped her cane in irritation.
“What’s that? Serena and Lady Elizabeth? Alone? Fiddle! You can’t have heard properly. Richard must be with ’em, although why he brought two girls along, without a word to me, is more than I can say.”
The footman, a long-suffering individual, bowed. “I h’apprehend, madam, that, so far from h’accompanying or even h’expecting his lordship, the ladies are h’unaware of his precise whereabouts.”
Lady Colhurst gazed balefully upon her servant. “Ought to buy you an ear-trumpet!” she announced. “You may expect one for Christmas, Addison! Well, I’ll soon get to the bottom of this. Did you leave my granddaughter kicking her heels in the hall? Show her up, man, for heaven’s sake! And the Delacourt chit, of course. Can’t abide her, nor any of her family, and I’m not likely to change at my time of life. Still, if she’s to marry my grandson I suppose I’ll be doing the pretty to that mackerel-backed Arnsford and his whey-faced daughters for the rest of my life. May as well begin now.”
Serena and Lady Elizabeth, ushered into Lady Colhurst’s tiny, but formidable, presence, looked a little the worse for wear. They had not had an agreeable journey. By the time they arrived at Hatley End both were hanging on to their tempers by the slenderest of threads. Serena’s indignation at having Elizabeth’s company forced upon her did not augur well for the expedition at the outset, and the natural differences in the two girls’ temperaments and opinions made their confinement together in the phaeton extremely trying to both of them. The drive had been dusty, long, and excessively warm, and the strong sunshine had given Elizabeth her usual headache. Serena was frantic with anxiety about her brother; Elizabeth, irrationally but unshakably convinced that danger could not possibly threaten persons of Lord Kilverton’s rank, was growing increasingly waspish. Elizabeth could scarcely have been more annoyed if Richard had engineered his own disappearance expressly to embarrass the Delacourts. Her air of exasperated martyrdom naturally infuriated Serena, and something very like a quarrel was brewing between them. Lady Colhurst’s sharp eyes perceived hostility in the air the instant the two girls, tired and travel-stained, walked through her drawing room door.
“Good day to ye both,” said Lady Colhurst. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t rise. I’m not as spry as I once was, more’s the pity. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
At the sight of her beloved grandmother, sudden tears stung Serena’s eyes. She affronted Elizabeth’s already lacerated sensibilities by immediately rushing forward with a little sob, and falling upon her grandmother’s neck. This gratified Lady Colhurst extremely, but she spoke with her accustomed sharpness even as she patted Serena comfortingly with one arthritic hand.
“Well, what’s all this? Serena, you always were a widgeon! Stop behaving like a watering pot and give us a proper kiss.”
With a shaky little laugh, Serena kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I beg your pardon, Grandmama. But it’s been the most dreadful day—you don’t know! I was sure we would find Richard here, and now we see he has never arrived, and oh, Grandmama, what if something terrible has happened to him?”
Lady Colhurst gave a derisive snort. “Nothing more terrible than a lame horse, or a broken trace, I trust! La, child, why should anything terrible have happened to Richard?”
Serena sank down at her grandmother’s feet, clutched the black silk of Lady Colhurst’s old-fashioned skirt, and launched into a tangled and agitated narrative from which Lady Colhurst with difficulty picked the main threads of information. Once she was in possession of a few facts, however, she gave it as her decided opinion that although she would not put much past Serena’s Uncle Oswald, kidnapping the Heir was where one drew the line.
A cynical gleam lit Lady Colhurst’s eyes. “Bad ton,” she pronounced crisply.
“Oh, would he think so?” said Serena breathlessly. “How I hope you are right! Uncle Oswald would never do anything he considered bad ton.”
Lady Colhurst chuckled. “You may depend upon that! Oswald was always full of starch. Men of his stamp don’t give a fig for morality, and they snap their fingers at the Law, but they care a great deal about ‘the done thing.’ Beneath him! You mark my words.”
Serena impulsively jumped up to hug her grandmother again, thanking her over and over. Elizabeth’s sharp voice shattered this affecting scene like the crack of a whip. “Forgive me, ma’am, but if we may descend from the heights of melodrama now, I would be grateful for a dish of tea!”
Lady Colhurst fixed her unwelcome visitor with a basilisk stare, then recalled her determination to treat Elizabeth with civility. She bit back the crushing snub she longed to utter, and instead gave a gruff nod. “Ring the bell for me, if you would, Lady Elizabeth. I daresay you each would be glad of a chance to wash your face and hands as well, eh? Meredith shall see you upstairs and bring you hot water.”
Elizabeth gave a peremptory tug on the bell rope. “I own, I should be glad to lie down for a few minutes. Such an enervating journey! Forgive me if I seem uncivil, but really, I am completely unaccustomed to so much adventure.”
“Well, I can’t think why you came!” said Serena with asperity. “Emily would have satisfied the proprieties just as well, and wouldn’t have driven me to distraction with complaints and crotchets all the way.”
Elizabeth’s upper lip lengthened. “Miss Emily Campbell is a very good sort of girl, I daresay, but hardly a suitable companion for Lady Serena Kilverton. As well take your maid along, like an eloping schoolgirl! It is my duty, Serena, to impress upon you that these wild starts of yours are beyond the line of being pleasing. But this entire situation is outrageous! I intend to speak to Richard on this head before I am much older.”
Serena’s eyes filled with tears. “Indeed, Elizabeth, I hope you may. I hope any of us may speak to Richard before we are much older!”
Elizabeth’s brows snapped together. “There is no occasion for these lurid flights of fancy, Serena. Pray calm yourself!”
Lady Colhurst possessed herself of one of Serena’s fluttering hands and pressed it warningly, hoping to forestall the fury she saw kindling in Serena’s eyes. “Lady Elizabeth is in the right of it, child. You are tired, and you have
been badly frightened, but there’s no need to despair. Go wash your face! When you come back down we will consider what’s best to be done.”
When the girls had gone, Lady Colhurst’s clawlike hands clutched the arms of her chair. She stared fiercely into the drawing room fire and thought about Serena’s tale. Like most of her generation and rank, she had a fine distaste for singularity and an abhorrence of scandal. What a muddle the children have made of it! she thought irascibly. Gentlemen galloping all round the countryside, asking after Richard’s tilbury! As well send to Bow Street and set the runners on him! St. Albans will talk of nothing else for a fortnight. The disappearance of Viscount Kilverton! Fine food for an evening’s gossip!
A commotion in her hall eventually disturbed these ruminations. Lady Colhurst’s limbs may have been twisted with arthritis, but her hearing was as good as ever. A voice she instantly identified as Edward Montague’s was raised in something perilously close to a shout. She had no trouble distinguishing Mr. Montague’s ebullient words.
“Addison, you old pigeon-poacher! Still gainfully employed, eh? Where’s her la’ship? We’ve brought her grandson to her in one piece, as you see, but we’ve had the devil’s own work to bring it about!”
Lady Colhurst’s lips twitched. She had always had a soft spot for that merry rascal, Ned Montague. Her drawing room door then burst open to admit a rather large party of persons in various states of dishevelment. Her grandson Richard was certainly among them, but Lady Colhurst’s brows lifted in astonishment at his appearance. He looked pale and worn, his expression was unusually grim, and he was covered from head to toe with dust and cobwebs. Her brows climbed higher when she saw that he was accompanied by Oswald Kilverton, of all people, whose clothing and demeanor were in the same sorry state as Richard’s. Mr. Montague strolled in behind them, neat as wax and in fine fettle, followed by two complete strangers: a small, grimy Cockney and a stalwart young man of unmistakable military bearing, so excessively handsome he made one blink.
“Well!” said Lady Colhurst, with great relish. “What a delightful surprise, to be sure! Richard, I suppose you will explain the meaning of this to me in your own good time. For pity’s sake, don’t sit on the ottoman! It’s silk! Addison, set two of the wooden chairs for my grandson and Mr. Kilverton before they ruin my furniture. And tell the kitchen to increase the covers for dinner.”
Mr. Montague stepped forward and saluted Lady Colhurst’s hand with rare grace. “Beg pardon, Lady Colhurst—infamous of us to intrude! Such a ragtag crowd as we must appear, too. Permit me to present Captain Philip Talgarth, and—ah—Jamie.” The captain bowed, and the Cockney nervously tugged his forelock, muttering something unintelligible. “As Richard and Mr. Kilverton appear disinclined for conversation, pray allow me to explain—”
But at that moment, Serena flew into the room, laughing and crying together. She flung her arms round her brother’s dirty neck, “Richard, thank God you are safe!” she cried. “I heard you arrive. But what on earth happened to you? You’re all over cobwebs! Are you hurt? Were you kidnapped? Good gracious, if it isn’t Uncle Oswald! What are you doing here? I thought—that is, Ned thought—well! And here you are, looking for all the world like—why, you’re almost as dirty as Richard. What can this possibly mean?” Serena placed her small fists against her hips. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?”
Mr. Montague took Serena firmly by the shoulders and seated her on Lady Colhurst’s silk ottoman. “Willingly, if you stop prattling like the shatterbrained little bagpipe you are—”
“Shatterbrained?” Serena gasped.
Ned’s eyes twinkled. “Shatterbrained, gooseish, and enough tongue for two sets of teeth.” Serena lapsed into offended silence and Ned turned back to Lady Colhurst. “As I was saying, ma’am—”
The door opened again, this time to admit Lady Elizabeth, who was looking, and feeling, extremely put out. Elizabeth had washed the travel stains from her person, but there had been no time to lie down and her headache had not abated. In contrast to Serena, Elizabeth greeted the assemblage punctiliously, and very correctly. Addison beckoned to Jamie, who ducked gratefully out to be taken to the kitchen. Serena fairly danced with impatience. Eventually Elizabeth completed the rituals her upbringing demanded of her, and requested that she be put in possession of the facts. Richard waved a weary hand, deferring to Ned. This time, Lady Colhurst interrupted.
“One moment, Ned! My grandson is completely done-in. Oswald, you don’t look much better than he, if you’ll forgive my saying so. We keep country hours here at Hatley End, and I can’t sit down to dinner with you two looking like you’ve spent the day wrestling pigs in a byre! I’m sending you both upstairs for a wash and a lie-down. Now, don’t argue with me! Dinner in forty-five minutes, gentlemen, and it won’t wait for you. Ned and Captain—Talgarth, is it?—will tell us anything we need to know while you are gone. Be off with you!”
Oswald had been completely silent. He now rose, and, despite his dirt, executed the bow that had made him famous in a younger day. He spoke with a palpable effort. “Lady Colhurst, I will be glad to obey you, but will not then trespass upon your hospitality further. When you have heard the story Mr. Montague is about to pour into your ears, you will have a tolerable understanding of my reasons. I am grateful for the opportunity to compose myself a little before departing, but I cannot stay for dinner. Forgive me. I must return to London post-haste.” His smile was a trifle forced, but he quitted the room with his usual panache.
Richard crossed to his grandmother and kissed her withered cheek. “You’re a rare one, Grandmama,” he told her. “Thank you! I will be right as a trivet in half an hour, I think, and only too ready for my dinner. Forgive me for foisting all these people on you. It really was not my intention, you know—but Ned will explain.” He followed his uncle out the door.
Lady Colhurst fixed Ned with a grim stare. “Well, sir? Begin, if you please!”
Ned scratched his head in perplexity. “Now we come to the point, though, I’m dashed if I know where to begin!” he said. “I feel deuced sorry for Oswald Kilverton, I must say! Why, here I’d thought for months he was the worst kind of unprincipled villain, and all the time—well, I was wrong, that’s all. It makes a chap think. Shouldn’t leap to conclusions, y’know. Mustn’t judge by appearances, and all that. I made a cake of myself; I admit it. That is, I daresay Oswald may be a thorough-going rotter—well, everyone says so! But he’s sure as check not a murderer. Shouldn’t blame him if he called me out for that. Ugly thing to say of a fellow, after all.”
“My head is going round and round!” complained Serena. “Do you mean to tell me Richard was in no danger after all?”
“I told you as much,” said Elizabeth tartly.
“Oh, he was in danger, all right and tight! But not from your Uncle Oswald,” explained Ned. “In fact, the only good thing I achieved in this bumble-broth was when I issued that silly challenge at White’s. Put the wind up your uncle, proper, but not for any reason I ever dreamed of! The very circumstances that sent me haring after Oswald put Oswald squarely on the scent. He instantly knew there was a scheme, knew who was behind it, and knew it was going to be laid in his dish if he didn’t act sharp to prevent it! Once he knew what was toward, Oswald did all he could to keep Richard safe. I say, that was neatly done! Your uncle’s one of the tightish clever sort, Serena! Sent one of his own servants round—that’s Jamie—got him hired on as Richard’s tiger, and paid him to keep his eyes open. Told Jamie to report back to him if he saw anything suspicious. That’s why Jamie wasn’t with your brother today. Jamie came hot-foot back to Town after the ambush, to report it to Oswald just as he was hired to do.”
Serena’s eyes widened. “Ambush!”
“Yes, a couple of ugly customers rode up behind your brother and coshed him—but never mind that!” added Ned hastily, as Serena gasped. “Wasn’t going to mention it. Forgot. But there was no harm done, after all! Jamie took one of Richard’s horses and escap
ed, hid long enough to see where the villains stashed your brother’s tilbury, and then followed them at a distance so he could discover their hiding place. When the fellows left Richard in an abandoned cottage and set off again in search of Jamie—they knew Richard’s tiger had gotten away, of course—Jamie galloped off to find Oswald. Intrepid little fellow! The silly clunches wasted so much time searching for Jamie, they made it possible for him to find your uncle and lead him to the cottage before Sir Egbert could get there.”
All three of the women exclaimed at this. “Sir Egbert!” cried Serena and Elizabeth in concert.
“Before Sir Egbert could get where?” demanded Lady Colhurst testily. “None of this makes a particle of sense to me!”
“Well, once they had Richard secured in the cottage, the blackguards were supposed to bring Egbert there—in Oswald’s traveling coach, no less—how’s that for a nice touch? But, as I say, they didn’t get word to him soon enough. By the time Egbert arrived at the cottage, Oswald had come on horseback and was there to greet him. Or, rather—well, I suppose he would have greeted him, if Richard hadn’t put a gag in his mouth.”
Captain Talgarth, seeing three bewildered faces, took pity on the ladies and stepped forward. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I fancy your skein has gotten tangled, Montague. Allow me to tell the rest.”
Lady Colhurst gave a short bark of laughter. “We’ll be mightily grateful to you, sir! Ned could never tell a story straight.”
Serena shot Ned a provocative look through her lashes. “Shatterbrained,” she murmured.
Mr. Montague grinned down at her appreciatively. “Anything you like, Serena!” he whispered. She blushed, and attempted to concentrate on Captain Talgarth’s summation.
The captain, now with four expectant pairs of eyes upon him, cleared his throat a trifle self-consciously. “You see, it was Sir Egbert, not Oswald Kilverton, who had been making these attempts upon Lord Kilverton’s life.”