The Mystery of Miss Mason (The Lost Lords Book 5)

by Chasity Bowlin

  He’d no more than gotten her back into his arms, pressing her against him and willing the warmth of his body into hers, when the carriage lurched forward. “You will not die. Not after all that we have been through,” he whispered, his voice sharp and angry. “I simply will not allow it.”

  Her eyes fluttered open then. Alex found himself gazing into their dark depths, rendered nearly black in the confines of the carriage. “I certainly will not,” she agreed, her voice raspy from the river water she’d likely swallowed. “Not for a considerable length of time, at any rate.”

  “Just so long as you let me go first,” Alex replied. “I think I’ve seen you at death’s door once too often already.”

  “Why must I always be damp and cold? Just once, I’d like to almost die from being too warm and too cozy. Is that possible?”

  He smiled. “I think, perhaps, you’ve struck your head again.”

  She frowned. “Helena is dead. I saw her body in water… do you think… will they be able to retrieve it?”

  “Are you concerned for her proper burial?” he asked incredulously.

  Mary shook her head. “No. I’m only concerned that you have the proof you require to finally clear your name. If her body is lost to the river, then it is only the word of others that she still lived. I want you to finally be free of it all.”

  Alex couldn’t resist it. He kissed her then. It wasn’t a gesture of passion, but one of tenderness, one that he hoped might show her how much he cherished her. “I am free. I will never be as free as I am with you in my arms. Now that there are no remaining reasons to deny it, I will say without hesitation, I love you. As soon as it is humanly possible, I mean to make you my wife.”

  Her eyes drifted closed again, but her lips curved in a slight smile. Within minutes, they had reached the Vale home. Alex handed her down to the waiting coachman and then disembarked himself. Once his feet were firmly planted on the pavement, he reached for her again. With her tucked safely in his arms, he strode up the steps to the door that was currently being held open by the butler.

  In the hall, he heard Miss Masters and Lady Vale gasp in horror. “Whatever happened?”

  “She and Helena struggled and fell into the river,” he said, offering the short version of the tale. “We have to get her warm as soon as possible. She’s been in these wet things too long already!”

  “Get her upstairs to the guest room,” Lady Vale said, rushing ahead of him. Alex followed hot on her heels. Once inside, he placed Mary on the bed and began removing her cloak and the sodden garments beneath. Immediately, he felt feminine hands tugging him away.

  “You are not in the country in your abandoned mausoleum, Lord Wolverton,” Lady Vale snapped. “In this house, we will do things the proper way. Miss Masters and I will see to her.”

  Before he could utter a protest, he was shoved out the door and it was closed firmly in his face. In the corridor, put rather firmly in his place, Alex was at a loss what to do. Of course, he reasoned someone should send for her brother. But as he descended the stairs he could hear Mr. Middlethorp issuing orders to the footmen to do just that. He was, in that moment, completely extraneous.

  Middlethorp turned to go back to the library and caught sight of him. “Banished you, did they?”

  “Something to that effect,” Alex answered.

  “Come along and we’ll have some brandy. It’s a bit early in the day, but I daresay the day has already warranted it. Of course, you haven’t been to bed yet, so one could argue that it’s actually late for you.”

  He hadn’t felt the exhaustion until that moment. When it was presented to him in that way, when he had a moment to entertain just how long it had been since he had slept, Alex wondered how he was even upright, much less putting one foot in front of the other. Yet, he knew that even if he were to close his eyes, sleep would not come. Not yet. Not when he was still uncertain of Mary’s wellbeing. Once he knew she was well, then perhaps.

  Gratefully, he accepted the cut crystal glass and sipped the warming liquid. It was damned fine brandy, certainly better than he’d been able to afford for some time. He savored the spreading warmth and the sweet, complex flavor as it settled on his tongue.

  “There is no substitute for a fine brandy… unless it’s a woman,” Middlethorp said. “And I’m assuming that there is no woman more vital to your happiness and satisfaction at this time than Miss Mason is.”

  “I have done a disservice to her in being so obvious with my affections,” Alex replied.

  Middlethorp chuckled softly, but it was not a humorous sound. There was a wealth of pain in it. Enough so that Alex glanced up at him and caught the flicker of intense sadness in the other man’s gaze before it shuttered entirely.

  “It is not as if you have made a cake of yourself in society for her. She will not be ruined by what has occurred in this house… and given the amount of gossip already swirling about her, with the kidnapping, the identity of her adopted brother, and whatever occurred today,” Middlethorp lifted his hands in exasperation. “Your degree of indiscretion in exhibiting your attachment to her is hardly the worst thing people will discuss.”

  “No, I suppose it is not. Helena is dead, by the way.”

  “I assumed so,” Middlethorp replied. “The magistrate is currently questioning Albert Hamilton. The man is singing like a bird at present. He has incriminated Harrelson, Helena, his brother, Fredrick, and everyone but himself. He insists that he is nothing more than an innocent bystander lured into their schemes and threatened on pain of death if he spoke the truth.”

  An ugly epithet escaped Alex then. “Will the magistrate buy it?”

  “Unlikely,” Middlethorp said. “But the magistrate isn’t the issue. Albert’s not a peer, but he is the younger brother of one. It is likely that his family will pull enough strings to get him off with a lighter sentence, but I do not think he will escape the consequences of his actions entirely. Tell me what occurred today.”

  “Helena secreted herself in the carriage and held Mary at gunpoint. There was an overturned cart on Pulteney Bridge that stifled traffic, giving Mary an opportunity to jump from the carriage. Helena pursued her, intending to shoot her before my very eyes… and at the last possible second, Mary managed to tip them both over the balustrade and into the river below. Helena drowned in the Avon.”

  “Her body has been recovered?”

  Alex frowned. “Yes. Others were removing her from the water… I did not stay to see it taken care of. I wanted to get Mary here and get her warm. I suppose I ought to go back.”

  “I’ll send someone to take care of it,” Middlethorp offered. “I asked after her body because it will be key in proving that you are not the murderer they claimed you to be. If you have any hope of having the decisions of the courts reversed, your property returned to you and to finally put all the gossip to rest, then there will need to be witnesses who can identify Helena.”

  “How many witnesses would be required?”

  Middlethorp shrugged. “I can only assume that any number of the genteel set leaving the Baths would have recognized your wife. She was marked as a great beauty by society… and she did not make herself unobtrusive in the least.”

  At that moment, Lord Vale entered. “What happened?”

  “Mary fell into the river with Lady Wolverton,” Middlethorp offered succinctly. “Mary has survived but Lady Wolverton has succumbed. She is upstairs, being tended to by your mother and your betrothed. No doubt, they will have her warm, stuffed with hot tea and biscuits. She will be fine.”

  Vale sank into the other chair that faced the desk and reached for the bottle of brandy. He didn’t even bother with a glass but drank straight from the decanter. Under the circumstances, the breech in etiquette was hardly worth commenting on.

  “So, you’re finally the widower, after all,” Vale said after a moment.

  “It would seem so,” Alex agreed.

  “This changes nothing as far as I’m concerned. Mary is in t
oo fragile a state to make such monumental decisions right now, given all that she’s been through,” Vale continued. “I think it best if you return to Wolfhaven Hall while we sort all of this out.”

  Alex’s brows shot up at essentially being dismissed. “Excuse me?”

  “You should go” Vale said. “Before Mary wakes. It will only create problems for her if you remain.”

  It took a moment for Alex to understand precisely what had been said. “If you have concerns that my intentions are dishonorable, you may rest assured that I mean to propose to her.”

  “But you will not do it today,” Vale insisted. “You will not do it until the entire debacle with your late wife and her grasping relatives is resolved. I am not forbidding you to marry her. But I am quite firm that you will not do so until your affairs are in order and until she has had sufficient time to recover.”

  Hot fury washed through him. “And were your affairs perfectly in order when you proposed to Elizabeth Masters, Lord Vale? Though we both know I only use that title as a courtesy as you are just as much at the mercy of the House of Lords as I am!”

  Vale had the decency to flush guiltily. “Whether or not I had a title, I still had the means to support Elizabeth! She would not have gone from living in relative comfort to eking out a meager existence in a falling down hovel! Can you honestly say that you can see to Mary’s comfort there? She is fragile!”

  “She is stronger than you give her credit for,” Alex said, rising to his feet. “She is stronger than you and I put together. The very fact that she has survived all that she has been forced to endure and that her own resourcefulness is largely to thank for it should be proof enough of it!”

  “And is that what you will offer her when your honeymoon is done? A home devoid of servants because you lack the ability to pay them? My sister, who weighs less than five stone soaking wet, will have to use her resourcefulness to scrub your floors and wash your clothes. I will not have it, Wolverton, and if you love her, you will not either. Wait until you have the answers you seek from the powers that be! My sister has suffered enough poverty, pain, and uncertainty in her life without foolishly marrying into more of it.”

  Alex wanted to protest. He wanted to state that he had waited long enough for his chance at happiness. But there was a part of him that recognized the wisdom of Vale’s words. But God above, he resented them. “And when she asks where I’ve gone, what will you tell her? That I’ve abandoned her?”

  “I will tell her that you are working to secure your fortune and your property, and urge her to be patient,” Vale replied. “This is not villainy on my part, Wolverton. I am looking after her because it is my duty to do so.”

  “Is that all it is? Really? She spoke of you, of your devotion to one another. Is it really that, Vale, or is it that you’re so dependent upon your sister worshipping you that you’d stand in the way of her happiness?” Alex demanded.

  Vale rose from his chair, fists at the ready. “If you’re suggesting that my relationship with Mary is in anyway improper—”

  “I am not suggesting any such thing! In spite of what my late wife and her stepbrother have done, I know that isn’t commonplace and it is beneath the both of you!” Alex had risen from his own chair, ready to exchange blows if needed. “What I’m suggesting is that you’ve been her hero and her savior for so long that you find yourself reluctant to grant that role to anyone else. It’s your ego that’s in the way!”

  Vale eased back at that. “Maybe I am. But is that what you want? For her to marry you because you saved her? Do you want her head clouded with such things, or do you want to be certain that it’s really you she cares for and not just the impossible events that have surrounded the two of you and muddled her thinking? Now is not the time, Wolverton, and if you’ll take a moment and consider it, you’ll see that I’m right!”

  It wouldn’t have been so painful if it hadn’t mirrored thoughts of his own. From abduction, rescue, illness, another kidnapping and hostage situation with Helena, Mary’s life had been nothing but upheaval. He had been the first bastion of safety she’d known after weeks of uncertainty. What if it was that which was the basis of her feelings for him? One loveless marriage had been enough for him.

  “How long?”

  Vale relaxed visibly. “Get your affairs settled and then court her as she deserves.”

  Alex nodded. “Then I’ll be off. You can send my things to Wolfhaven. I’ll be making for London to get things sorted out.”

  Walking out the door, knowing that Mary was above stairs and would soon realize he’d left without even saying goodbye—it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. But perhaps, Vale was correct. If he looked at her again, if he had to look into her eyes as they said goodbye yet again, he would not have the strength. Alex prayed that fortune would smile upon him, that the wheels of justice would move with the same sense of urgency in returning his property as they had when they had seized it all from him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What do you mean he’s gone?” Mary demanded. Her heart had dropped, sinking into her stomach, when her brother told her that Alex had left. He had told her he loved her. He had sworn that they would be together. Perhaps not in those exact words, and perhaps her memory of it was a bit fuzzy as she’d only just escaped drowning, but he had! She was certain of it.

  A muscle ticked in Benedict’s jaw as he looked away. “It’s for the best… at least for now. It will take months if not years before he has his finances sorted—”

  “I don’t care about his finances! He would not simply have left me, Benedict! He loves me. He said so,” she whispered fiercely, shaking her head in dismay. “How can a man make such declarations and then simply walk away? That isn’t like him.”

  “To be fair, Mary, you do not know him that well. None of us do. Would it be so awful for you to wait a while before entangling yourself with him in a permanent fashion?”

  There was something in her brother’s tone and in the way he steadfastly refused to look her in the eyes. Suspicion was an ugly thing, but it reared inside her. “What did you do?”

  “Mary—”

  “Tell me, Benedict! What did you do?” she demanded again, all but shouting. In all of her life, she had never raised her voice to him, never been anything but grateful and obedient as he’d sacrificed so much for her. But that only made the betrayal cut even deeper. Had he really sabotaged her chance at happiness?

  “Fine,” Benedict said on a heavy sigh. “I insisted that he wait until his finances and legal woes were taken care of and he could make a respectable offer for you.”

  It cut her to the quick. “You had no right.”

  “I have every right! You are my responsibility—”

  “I am a grown woman! I am twenty-five years old and perfectly capable of making my own choices.”

  “You don’t know him—”

  “And do you know Elizabeth, then? You’ve only just met her within the last two weeks, after all, and yet you are betrothed! And I daresay you behaved far less honorably toward her than Alexander Carnahan behaved toward me!”

  He drew back as if she’d struck him. “Mary, you are overwrought.”

  “No. I’m not overwrought. I’m not hysterical. I’m not going to have the vapors or fall into a faint. While I may be physically at a disadvantage in many ways, Benedict, when it comes to my understanding of the world, we came from the same hovel—from the same drunken, rage-filled, filthy hovel! This was not about what was best for me. If it was, you would have asked for my opinion first!” she snapped.

  He had the decency, at least, to look moderately shamed by that. But Mary was far from done. “Do you really think that my feelings for him, and his for me, are less valid and less urgent than what you feel for Elizabeth? If I told you—or did as you have done and went behind your back! If I told her that she should not marry you until she has her reputation perfectly restored or until you have the title entirely secured… what would you say to that, Ben
edict?”

  “The situation is entirely different!” Benedict protested.

  “No. Our anatomy is different. Because you are male and I am female, you assume that the rules should be applied differently! I’m not having it.” Mary rose from the bed and pulled her traveling gown from the wardrobe.

  “What the devil are you doing?”

  She arched one pale brow at him. “What does it look like I’m doing? I mean to go after him.”

  “He’s off to London. You’d never be able to track him down.”

  Mary laughed bitterly. “You stand here, in the home of the woman who gave birth to you because of my ability to track people down. Or have you forgotten that you’d have never discovered who you truly are if I hadn’t come to Bath to investigate?”

  “And got yourself abducted and very narrowly avoided a fate that could potentially have been worse than death!” he snapped back at her. “Mary, be reasonable. You have been ill. Only hours ago you very nearly died.”

  “Fine. I’ll be perfectly reasonable. I will not travel to London alone. You may escort me or I shall ask Mr. Middlethorp to do so.” It was a rare thing for her to dig her heels in quite so viciously, but it was also a rare circumstance.

  “I will take you to London!” Benedict shouted. “I will take you and I will find bloody Wolverton for you! When did you become this obstinate?”

  “I’ve always been this obstinate, Benedict,” she insisted. “We just rarely ever wanted different things for me. He loves me. And there is nothing that he would not do to see me safe and happy. Can you not see that?”

  “You’ll be poor,” he replied.

  “As I have been before. If marrying Elizabeth meant giving up all of your wealth, would you?”

  His gaze settled on hers and she saw a flash of understanding finally break through his stubborn male pride. “I would do whatever was necessary to be with her.”

  “As would I to be with him. And I know you said you’d take me, but it would be very difficult to convince him to elope to Gretna Green with me if you are staring daggers at his back. If it’s just the same, I’d rather go alone. If I leave now, I might be able to make the posting inn at Wickham. Perhaps he will have stopped there himself.”