The Homeless Heiress

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by Anne Herries


  He knew that his chances of winning her by fair means had virtually vanished into thin air. If she would not have him when she was nothing, there was little likelihood of her favouring him now. Besides, it was difficult to get close to her. Hernshaw had made certain that she was well protected. Damn the man! He should have made sure of him that first night, done the deed himself instead of leaving it to one of his underlings. Hernshaw had others watching his back these days, and was impossible to touch. The girl would not be easy to snatch, but he would manage it somehow.

  His preparations were made. He had the house waiting to receive her. She would be at his mercy and, once she was his, he would find it easy enough to persuade her that she should marry him to save her reputation. After he had done with the little bitch, no decent man would have her!

  Richard frowned as he looked at his informant. The man had come to him as he was preparing to go out, bringing unexpected news. Thierry had been seen in Bath and that was worrying. Richard had been intending to return to London in the morning, because he felt that his continuing presence in Bath could only be uncomfortable for Georgie. The knowledge that the Frenchman was here shocked him. What had brought him to Bath when his business must be in London?

  ‘You are certain of this?’ he said. ‘You saw him yourself or you heard that he had been seen?’

  ‘I saw him,’ the man said. ‘He was following two ladies—one of them was the lady you told me to watch for.’

  ‘Damn him!’ Richard frowned. Obviously, Thierry was still angry about the loss of the inheritance he had hoped to make his. ‘Was he alone at all times?’

  ‘He has met with some gentlemen, but there was nothing in it,’ the agent replied. ‘I saw him with some rogues one night at a seedy tavern on the outskirts of the city. I couldn’t get near enough to hear what they said, but I saw money change hands.’

  ‘Then he is planning something,’ Richard said and frowned. ‘It cannot be the other business, so it must concern Miss Bridges.’ His fingers drummed on the table in front of him. He knew that he had hurt Georgie and it was likely that she now hated him, but that made no difference to his determination to ensure her safety. ‘Make sure that she is followed wherever she goes, do you hear me? I am afraid that he may try to harm her in some way, though…’A muttered curse escaped him. ‘Of course! Abduction is his only option now. He must know that he could never hope to persuade her to marry him in the normal way. Damn him!’

  ‘The men are ready,’ his agent said. ‘We could take him tonight, sir.’

  ‘But we still lack the evidence we need.’ Richard stared at him uncertainly. ‘Without that final piece he might walk free.’ He struck his fist against his knee. ‘We take him tonight. It cannot be left longer. Once we have him, I dare say Rawlings will make him talk.’

  ‘Tonight it is,’ the man said. ‘I’ll alert the others, sir.’

  Richard nodded, watching as the man walked away. He had been waiting until the right moment so that Thierry was caught in the act of conspiracy against the throne, but he could not afford to wait any longer when it meant that Georgie’s safety might be at risk.

  He had planned to attend the ball that evening so that he could dance with her and then say goodbye. Somehow he had to mend fences with her, to show her that she was still his friend…that he cared for her even if he could not marry her. He prayed that she would understand he had held back for her sake rather than his own, though in his heart he knew that only a part of that was true. A part of him was not sure that he could love, at least not wholeheartedly in the way Georgie deserved. For the moment he must concentrate on her safety. He must put his mind to tracking down the dangerous man who was intent on harming Georgie.

  Jenny looked at her young companion’s face as she came downstairs that evening. Something must have happened to make her this way. She had been distant ever since she returned from her drive with Richard. Jenny had been expecting good news, but the expression in Georgie’s eyes had told her that they must have quarrelled. Her friend had looked so strange, not a bit like herself.

  ‘Is something the matter, my love?’ she asked. ‘You seem a little quiet.’

  ‘Oh, I have had a wretched headache,’ Georgie said, ‘but it is getting better. You must not worry, Jenny. I shall do well enough in a little while.’

  ‘Would you prefer to stay home this evening? It is only a small affair and I shall not mind at all if we do not go.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Georgie said and smiled brightly. ‘It is nothing. A mere irritation of the nerves! I shall be perfectly well once we get there.’

  ‘You would tell me if there was something wrong, my love?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Georgie laughed. ‘I told you not to worry, Jenny. I had a headache, but it has gone. I am quite ready to leave if you are.’

  ‘Then we must go, for the carriage is waiting…’ Jenny led the way outside. She guessed that her brother and Georgie must have had a quarrel. Drat Richard for being an insensitive fool! She would have something to say to him when they met that evening!

  Georgie was wearing a gown of pale lilac silk that evening. It suited her well, its slender skirt flaring over her hips and ending in a little flounce. She had draped a spangled stole over her arms, because the night air was a little chilly, but inside the ballroom it was extremely hot because of all the candles in the chandeliers. She had danced every dance, determined not to let anyone see that her heart was breaking. Richard had said he would be here this evening, but he had not come, and she supposed she knew why. He was staying clear of her because she had embarrassed him.

  Oh, why had she made such a fool of herself? She had practically thrown herself at him, almost begging him to ask her to marry him, and he had refused her. It was so humiliating, and she had only herself to blame. Richard had gone out of his way to help her from the beginning. He had been kind and considerate, and he was right—the clothes she had worn had been nothing short of shameless. If she had aroused his baser instincts, she was at fault. Just because he had kissed her, it did not mean that he wished to marry her. She had hoped it might be so, but she was mistaken, and now she had to pay the price. She was not sure how she would ever face Richard again! What a fool he must think her!

  All evening, Georgie had laughed and flirted prettily with the young men who flocked about her. She had accepted their compliments and danced with them, but she could hardly remember their names or their faces. She was hurting so much that she felt she was being torn apart, but she had kept a smile in place. Now she needed a moment alone, and she turned instinctively towards the veranda.

  She would go outside for a few moments to cool herself. Jenny was nowhere about, and Georgie imagined she had gone upstairs to tidy her gown because the rooms were crowded and one became rather too hot after a while. Lord Maddison was talking with some other gentlemen, and she knew the subject was war, for most of the men present that evening had at one time been officers. Many of them were thinking of rejoining their regiments at the first call to arms.

  Not wanting to intrude on their conversation, she decided to go out alone. Her admirers had for the moment abandoned her and she was alone in a room that had been deserted by people in search of refreshment or respite. There were lights strung from the trees in the gardens and Georgie felt no fear as she went out to take the air. She would stay only a moment and then go in search of Jenny, but she really did need a little air to cool her.

  One or two ladies were strolling on the veranda, though mostly in pairs. Georgie had met most of them, but formed no real friendships as yet, at least none that made her feel comfortable about joining the other ladies unasked.

  She walked down the steps of the terrace for there were people about and she did not feel nervous or think herself in any danger. They had heard nothing of Monsieur Thierry and there was no reason to think him in Bath, and here at the house of an acquaintance she could surely not come to harm. She would stroll just as far as the shrubbery and back. Surely there w
as no danger in that, she told herself, holding her stole over her shoulders. Besides, she needed to take the air, to be alone, because her face was beginning to feel as if it might crack from smiling and she was close to tears. How could she continue to laugh and tease when she felt as if she were dying inside?

  The moon was bright and with the lanterns in the trees she was able to see clearly. Georgie breathed deeply as she reached the shrubbery. She must learn to accept the pain inside for what it was. She had suffered a disappointment. In time she would get over it…she would learn to be happy again, and yet she felt as if a part of her had died.

  There were some fine examples of camellias and she bent to look at a flower. What happened then was quite without warning. She heard a slight rustling sound and raised her head, turning to glance behind her just as someone threw something thick and dark over her head. She gave a shriek of dismay, struggling against her unknown attacker. However, she found herself being lifted, thrown over someone’s shoulder, her head hanging down as she kicked and yelled. Even as she did so, she knew that her cries were muffled, the blanket getting into her mouth, choking her as she found it becoming difficult to breath.

  After what seemed an age, but could only have been minutes, she was thrust into somewhere, falling hard and striking her head. The blow robbed her of her senses temporarily and it was a while before she came to herself sufficiently to realise that she was moving, being carried off in what felt more like a wagon than a carriage.

  She tried to move and discovered that a rope had been bound around the blanket, trapping her in a cocoon of smelly wool that made her gag. The blanket smelled of horses and the stench was overpowering. She realised that she must breathe deeply despite the smell, and she must stop fighting what was happening, because otherwise she would not be able to breathe. If she did not wish to suffocate inside this blanket, she must lie quietly and wait to be released.

  But would anyone come looking for her? Georgie knew that Richard had other things on his mind. Why should he bother about a girl who had caused him nothing but trouble? Had he loved her, wanted her as his wife, she would have known he would come for her, but now she felt very alone—and very frightened.

  ‘Damn it!’ Richard cursed furiously. ‘What do you mean you lost him? You were told to follow wherever he went. How could he have slipped away without your seeing?’

  ‘He must have gone across the roof at the back of his lodgings,’ the Bow Street Runner said with a scowl. ‘We had someone stationed there the whole time, sir, and at the back door into the alley behind. The only way he could have got away without being seen was across the roof.’

  ‘He must have known we were watching him,’ Richard said. ‘I should have had him snatched off the street in broad daylight instead of waiting for darkness.’

  He paced the floor of the private parlour, where he had arranged to meet his agent when the business was done. Thierry should have been in custody now or dead, shot in the attempt to escape. He had given permission for his men to shoot first, even though Rawlings had wanted the Frenchman taken alive. Thierry had outwitted them! He must have spotted his shadow and made his plans accordingly. It meant a setback to Richard’s personal plans, because he would need to find Thierry again before he could return to London and his duties.

  He went to the window, staring out at the night, feet apart, hands behind his back. He cursed and turned sharply as the door opened behind him, hoping that there was further news and the Frenchman had been caught trying to slip away from Bath.

  ‘Edward?’ He stared at his brother-in-law, ice sliding down his spine as he saw his expression. ‘What has happened? Georgie…’ He felt a shaft of fear. ‘Is she hurt?’

  ‘She has disappeared,’ Edward said, tight-lipped. ‘Someone told us she went into the garden to take the air at Lady Marten’s house just before supper. She has not been seen since. I am so sorry. Jenny had gone upstairs and I did not notice. I feel I have let you both down.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Richard said roughly. ‘How could it be your fault, either of you? Georgie should have known—’He broke off with a groan as he realised what had happened. ‘Thierry must have snatched her. He was seen in Bath. We had planned to take him tonight, but he escaped by climbing over the roof and my men were fooled into thinking he was still inside. When they went in after him he had gone.’

  ‘My God!’ Lord Maddison had turned white. ‘Jenny is beside herself, weeping and blaming herself for not waiting for Georgie before going upstairs. Neither of us dreamed this could happen, Richard, at the house of a friend. What can we do? You know I will do anything to help you get her back.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Richard replied grimly. ‘We shall have to find him again. I had thought he might return to London, but he will hardly try to take her that far. He must be somewhere not too far distant—a house where he can keep her until he can force her to become his bride.’

  ‘You think that is his intention?’

  ‘He needs money,’ Richard said. ‘His plan to have the Regent assassinated and help Bonaparte regain the throne of France will require a great deal of it. He must hope to get some of it from Georgie.’

  ‘He will be unlucky,’ Edward said, looking anxious. ‘I advised Georgie to tie up her capital. She has a good income, but hardly enough to pay for such grand plans.’

  ‘He will be angry when he discovers the truth,’ Richard said, a pulse flicking at his temple. ‘If she tells him that, he might…’

  ‘Kill her?’ Edward supplied. ‘She would be of no use to him without the money he needs and her testimony could hang him.’

  ‘Will hang him,’ Richard ground out. ‘His other deeds have been well disguised and we were not sure we could convict him of anything. We know that he has cheated his victims at the card tables, ruined young men by introducing them to evil drugs, and that he is involved in plots against the State—but proving it was always going to be hard. Rawlings wanted him dead at one time, but I refused to do it. He has changed his mind now, wants him taken alive and questioned. If I catch him now, I shall not be so nice!’

  ‘Nor I,’ Edward agreed. ‘If he has harmed her…’ He saw Richard’s look and stopped. ‘I am sure he will not, at least until he has done his best to force her to be his wife.’

  ‘And what will that entail?’ Richard asked, feeling sick. ‘Rape or assault, both perhaps? I know Georgie. She will not give in easily, Edward. It might be better for her if she did, but she won’t.’

  ‘I know…but we’ll find her, Richard. We shall find her in time.’

  ‘Where do we look?’ Richard demanded. ‘It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He could have taken her anywhere.’

  ‘Yes…’ Edward frowned. ‘I wonder…’

  ‘What? Out with it, man!’ His anxiety made him harsh, almost rude.

  ‘He inherited the countess’s property, at least that which came to him from her late husband—but she had a house some ten miles from here. It was hers of her own right, not her husband’s, and should belong to Georgie, but it has been empty for some years. I know about it because the lawyers asked me what should be done with it. They thought it best to sell because it is in poor repair and needs a great deal of money spent on it. I told them to leave it for a while. I thought Georgie might like to see it before she decided.’

  ‘Do you know exactly where to find the house?’

  ‘It is called Mulberry Place and is near the village of Munkstowe,’ Edward said. ‘It is about ten miles from Bath, as I said.’

  ‘Would Thierry know of it?’

  ‘Yes, I believe he almost certainly would,’ Edward replied. ‘Is it worth a try?’

  Richard hesitated for a moment. If it was a wrong guess, it would waste precious time. On the other hand, he had nothing better to offer.

  ‘It is worth a try,’ he said harshly. ‘I’ll send word to Rawlings and they can keep an eye out for him in town, but something tells me that you are right, my friend. I am certain he won�
�t try to take her too far tonight. If we chance lucky, we may stop him before he can harm her.’

  Richard prayed that he was right, prayed that it was not already too late. There were perhaps a dozen inns on the road between here and the house Edward had spoken of. Thierry could have taken her to any of them. Some landlords would take no notice if a woman screamed, only too glad of a handful of gold to keep them sweet.

  He gritted his teeth. If Georgie was hurt…but he dare not let himself think that far ahead. The only thing clear in his mind was that if he found the man that night he would kill him!

  Georgie had lost consciousness by the time the blanket was removed. She did not hear Thierry berate his underlings for their careless treatment of her, nor did she feel anything as she was carried upstairs and deposited carefully on a bed. Fortunately, she did not see the look of annoyance in his face as he stood looking down at her in the light of a candle.

  ‘Damned idiots!’ Raoul Thierry’s handsome face twisted with anger as he looked at Georgie’s pale face. ‘I told them to take care of you, not kill you!’

  If the girl died, he would be no better off than he had been before this rash kidnap! She would have been advised to make a will by her lawyers, and he would not be a beneficiary. Besides, she had an aunt and the money would have gone beyond him even if there were no will as yet.

  His only hope of her money was to marry her. He had arranged for a vicar to marry them in the morning, judging that a night in his company would break her will. The Reverend Thorpe was not too nice in his principles that he would refuse a new roof for his church, and if he refused at the last, a pistol to his head should make him see the light.

 

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