The Lord’s Secret (The Regency Renegades - Beauty and Titles) (A Regency Romance Story)

by Jasmine Ashford

  “Yes.” That thought warmed Aaron's heart. “She is indeed.”

  Shauna leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. It was the perfect moment. There was chaos around them outside as the crowd broke up, but inside it was peaceful, quiet. It was almost an over before they spoke, simply enjoying each other’s company.

  “What,” she said, playing with his hands. “Is on your mind?”

  “That I wish it could always be like this,” he said softly.

  “It can be,” she said, but he shook his head.

  “You've seen my strength, Shauna, you've seen...”

  Matheson suddenly poked his head back in.

  “Ah, here's Matheson now,” Aaron said. “Safe and sound at home, is she?”

  “No,” Matheson said. “Miss Annabelle has not been here all day.”

  “What?” Aaron said, just as he heard Wesley's voice from outside the tent.

  “YOU!” he said. “STOP!”

  “What the bloody hell is going on?” Aaron asked, standing up quickly. He barreled past Matheson, out into the open field.

  Lola was practically holding up Wesley, who was pointed across the field to the road.

  Aaron had moved quickly enough to see Marianne get into a carriage, and then the carriage take off. “What is happening?” he asked, sensing that this wasn't just a scene. “Wesley, what are you doing here? Lola, have you seen Gwendolyn?”

  “Aren't you dead?” a little boy asked Aaron, aghast. Normally, he would have engaged. However, right now, he kept his eyes straight ahead.

  “She's missing again?” Lola said, turning to Wesley. The carriage was buckling down the road, and Wesley calculated the odds. He knew there was no point in tearing across the field to catch her. They would never make it. There were too many people in the way, and not another carriage or horse to grab. Instead, he turned to Aaron. The wound was threatening to take him down, but he had to get out the information.

  “That lady is not who she says she is,” Wesley said. “She's an Irish thief who has been captured before and escaped. She works with her husband to defraud the rich and nobles.”

  “What?” Shauna said, joining them. “My daughter is missing.”

  “That woman spent the night in your house,” Wesley said. “And no doubt her husband is not far off. I promise you, she is behind it.”

  “No,” Shauna put her hand to her mouth. “No. Aaron!”

  “Wesley!” Lola cried. She wasn't strong enough to catch him as he wavered, but Aaron moved fast enough. He managed to drag Wesley into the tent before anyone noticed. “We should have never left the hospital.”

  “Where would she go?” Shauna demanded, barreling into the tent. “Tell me where she would go.”

  “I don't know.” Wesley had a thin sheen of sweat on his face. “I have to think. Her husband is tall, dark haired, black Irish...”

  “Damien Ganders,” Aaron said. “I bet he is the man that came to my house. If we described him to Annabelle, she would say he matched the description.”

  “We have to get her back.” Shauna put her hand to her mouth, tears falling down her face. “Aaron, I will do anything to get her back.”

  “We will get her back,” Aaron took her head. “If anyone can figure it out, it's Wesley.”

  “Wesley may be able to figure it out,” Lola said, kneeling beside her rapidly failing intended. “But he is not using brute force to do anything.”

  “This is related to Taners,” Wesley said, “I don't know how, I don't know why, but it is.”

  “And the accidents?” Aaron asked. “Why? Why would he want my daughter? Unless...”

  Suddenly a memory flashed in front of him. Taners, telling him he would pay for his crimes in front of a firing squad. Taners, saying his family was gone. Wesley and Aaron seeming to be the most frequent targets of the attack, from the war protester who kept silent to the ship explosion. Every single one, they had been close enough to have been killed.

  “Unless he wants revenge,” Aaron said slowly, trying to make sense of it himself. “Unless he wants to punish...What if his family isn't just non-existent? What if they are dead?”

  “How?” Wesley asked.

  “Are you sure of the link?” Aaron asked. “Be sure.”

  “I am sure,” Wesley said. “But....”

  “That is all I need,” Aaron barreled out of the tent. He held his head high, storming across the field. He had never done anything like this before, and those who knew him watched him in shock.

  Taners was standing in the middle of the field with his clipboard. He was looking around, as if trying to decide what accident to employ.

  “Mr. Taners,” Aaron said, grabbing his arm. “Where the bloody hell is my daughter?”

  He could tell by the shade of pale Taners turned that he was right. He didn't even have time to stutter out an answer. Aaron yanked his elbow so hard that he almost pulled it out of his socket. However, he didn't care, dragging him across the field.

  He knew that he was risking everything by doing this. Working in head office meant that Taners was his superior, even if he didn't have an official rank. The fact that he was disrespecting him on a public level could mean the end of his career. He could be demoted, or worse.

  Nevertheless, Aaron cared about nothing but Gwendolyn.

  The navy used to be everything to him. His friends were there, a future outside of his rank was there. He could live his life without being treated as fragile or bowed to. He treasured the navy more than anything; and anyone who knew him knew that. Even when he inherited, he never intended to stop working. He thought he could fulfill his duties as a lord and keep sailing.

  Now, he cared about nothing as he shoved Taners into the tent. The stunned public was unsure whether this was a scene or not, and Aaron played on their sense of awe. Only Harold knew that it wasn't and came barreling across the field, wondering if Aaron had lost his mind.

  “I will have you demoted," Taners sputtered, as he rolled on the grass. “I will have you...”

  “Stop talking,” Aaron said, standing strong over him. “Tell me where my daughter is.”

  “I don't know.”

  “You do know,” Aaron delivered a kick to his side, just as Harold came in.

  “Aaron, have you lost your mind?” Harold asked.

  “No, I've finally gained it,” Aaron replied. “Now, Taners, talk, or you'll be out in front of a firing squad at Bamber Manor. I am Lord before I am a lieutenant, and I will be a lord long after.”

  To his surprise, Taners actually laughed. “Well, I'm glad you care about your bastard daughter,” he said. “We took a gamble that you might not.”

  “You bastard,” Aaron was about to choke him, but Harold grabbed him, pulling him back.

  “Do not lose your head,” he threatened in his ear. “Do not, not on him.”

  “Then get him to tell me where my daughter is,” Aaron growled. Harold had never seen him so angry.

  “I don't know!” Taners said. “I told you. Wherever Mary and Don have taken her, that was their part.”

  “Their part?” Wesley spoke up. “Kidnapping is on a new level. Robbing a lord blind, yes, but taking their daughter?”

  “Ah, you're familiar with their work?” Taners sneered. “Of course, you are, Earl Rippon. We took a risk of you recognizing them. And if you are familiar with their work, you know what they can do if we don't get what we want.”

  “And what is it that you want?” Harold tried to keep calm.

  “Now you know what it's like to lose someone that you love,” Taners said. “You lords, you mobilize armies without thought for the innocent lives. The king allows you such freedoms when you are not suited for your positions. All of you together, preying on innocent lives, recruiting young boys to create a new generation of mindless killers who would slaughter villagers...I swore I would put a stop to it. The navy used to be better than this! The navy used to stand for justice...”

  “Tha
t is treason,” Harold reminded him. “Which is prosecuted by death, if you remember. So, if you do not want to be put on trial for that, you’d better speak about what you know.”

  “Was your family killed by a noble army?” Aaron suddenly realized. “Is that what this is about?”

  “You are smarter than you look,” Taners said and Aaron landed a blow to his ribs. “For someone with such a terrible brain.”

  “So you hired Irish thieves,” Wesley said. “To kidnap his daughter. What do you want in return?”

  “You'll have to wait for their ransom,” Taners said “Their price was his house, his daughter. That they would make you pay...like I paid.”

  “Take him away,” Harold said, looking to Corrigan. “Clap him in irons.”

  “Shauna,” Aaron said. “I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this; even if this is the last thing I do. We will find her.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ILLUSION

  ILLUSION

  “I should have told you about that letter from the very start,” Aaron said to Harold when things were a bit calmer. “The letter from HQ for you to investigate the war protester. If you had known from the start, we could have figured this out sooner. If only I....”

  “This is not your fault,” Harold said as they stood in Navy Headquarters. The best person to be here was Wesley, but his body was not strong enough to make another outing. They had to rely on their minds when speaking to the officers at HQ, including the Admiral.

  “Well, it's my problem now,” Aaron said, standing tensely. “The worst part is, I really do think he has no idea where Gwendolyn was taken. I've a good eye for liars, and he doesn't look like he is lying.”

  “Perhaps he will give up some information,” Harold said. “When interrogated.”

  “Or he's already given us all the clues we need...” Aaron tried to think. “By God, if they hurt her...”

  “Gentlemen.” Both stood at attention as they heard a voice in the hallway.

  “Commodore,” Harold recognized Commodore Peckard right away. They had both served under him, years ago.

  “Sirs,” he said. “I'm sorry to see you under such circumstances.”

  “Have you spoken to him?” Harold asked.

  “He told us everything,” Peckard replied. “He thought confession would save him from the noose.”

  “Will it?” Aaron asked.

  Peckard eyed him. He remembered Lt. Bamber as an eager eyed, over active young man, who had a secret that he had pretended not to know. Now, he was older, stronger, and wearier around the eyes. “No,” Peckard replied. “But I understand you now have a personal investment in this.”

  “He worked with Irish thieves,” Aaron responded. “To take my daughter. He infiltrated my home, lied to my face...and now claims to have no idea where they are.”

  “We can send the...”

  “No,” Aaron said. “She is my daughter. I will be involved in this every step of the way.”

  “Ahem,” Peckard said. “Lord Bamber...if I may...this is a bit of a delicate matter since you are...not married to the mother. If you look at the law...”

  “Because I am not married to Shauna, does it make Gwendolyn any less my child?” he replied. “She will inherit my fortune, my title.”

  Harold turned to Aaron. “She will?” he said, in surprise.

  “Yes,” Aaron replied. “Does that make it better to use Navy resources? Now that she is a Lady, a noble woman, an heir?”

  Peckard glanced to Harold, and nodded. “Very well,” he said. “You will be involved...”

  “Sir,” Aaron said. “You can court martial me if you like, but I will not be following Navy protocol to find my daughter. It can be slow and I do not want to waste a moment.”

  “Lt. Bamber,” Peckard said, and then changed his mind. “Lord Bamber,” he lowered his voice. “If it were my child...I would be using every resource I can.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Aaron replied.

  “I will let you know as soon as we have more information,” Peckard said, dismissing them.

  Aaron wanted them to let him into the room and interrogate Taners within an inch of his life. However, it became clear that it wasn't the case. He followed Harold out the door, his mind turning. “If they are going to hold her for ransom,” he said. “Then there should be a note somewhere. A note that says how much they want for her. I should be waiting at the house.”

  “What bothers me the most,” Harold said. “Is that Taners would use the navy as a personal vendetta for his family. The lords aren't to blame for---”

  “No,” Aaron cut him off. “I can almost see his point. The lords often do march against the innocent, for power, for gain, without a thought to those below them. My father did it, Wesley's father did it, and if we aren't careful, we will both do it too. I will leave Gwendolyn a dynasty that is bloody and full of hatred if I do not keep a closer eye on things.”

  “Perhaps the world will change with this generation,” Harold said as they walked. “You sound as if you are reconsidering your duties to the navy.”

  “I am reconsidering everything since Shauna walked back into my life,” Aaron replied. “But at the moment, I am focusing on Gwendolyn. The rest will come.”

  The note came at supper time; not that any of them were eating anything. Scribbled hastily on the back of a pamphlet, it was exactly as Aaron expected.

  If you want to see your daughter again, bring 1000 gold coins to the bridge, and drop it off at the Golden Sheep Tavern at midnight tonight. Someone will be there to collect it and your daughter will be returned to you safely.

  “That is a scrap of her dress.” Shauna put her hand to her mouth as a piece of brown fabric fell out. “They have her. Oh, my God, what if they hurt her?”

  “They aren't going to hurt her,” Aaron said as he read the note again. “It doesn't say who I am meeting; it doesn't give any indication.”

  “1000 gold coins is a grand sum,” Harold said, looking over his shoulder. “Do you have---”

  “Of course, I have it,” Aaron said. It was a grand sum indeed, but it was not too rich for his blood. It seemed low for a ransom, especially for the only child of a lord. There was no guarantee that if he gave it to them, they would give her back. “I can have it removed from the safe right away. But----”

  He flipped over the note, desperately wishing for Wesley's brain. Without it, however, he'd have to solve these problems on his own.

  The pamphlet was from a protest held in the next town. It was old, and it looked like they had used just scraps. However, even though it was damaged, he could make out the date and the place.

  “I think it's a trap,” he said, reading it over. “They aren't even there. There will be someone there, of course, but...I don't think that money will lead to Gwendolyn's safe return. More likely it will lead to us being outnumbered, and a body in an alley.”

  “Aaron, you have to go,” Shauna said. “You can't risk---”

  “Shauna, you need to trust me,” he replied as he closed his eyes. He knew the place this pamphlet came from. It was another inn, one known for its cheap prices. That was where they were holding Gwendolyn; a place where they paid for the room and no one would ask questions. It was known for its rough crowd, and owners who would look the other way. “I am going to get her back.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  PLAY SOMEONE ELSE

  PLAY SOMEONE ELSE

  “Lola,” he turned to her. “Which one of your friends looks like me and will risk his life for a good paycheck?”

  “A few,” she said. “You want a decoy at the Golden Sheep then?”

  “I want a decoy who can fake a fit,” Aaron said. “To give them the impression that I was there, but to stall. The last thing I want is their muscle to run over to the Dolcetti Inn and find me there. Can you find someone?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, glancing at the clock. “The company should be gathered at the theatre now, to start hair and makeup. Th
ere are a few understudies who would be more than happy to play an actual role.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and she winked.

  “Anything for a part,” she replied, and gathered her things to leave.

  Aaron turned to Harold, trying to stay calm. “I've never been to the Dolcetti,” he said. “I know it by reputation, but---”

  “Sir,” Matheson interrupted. “This is where we come in.”

  “Sorry?” Aaron looked up in surprise.

  “The Dolcetti is not a place where an upstanding lord like yourself would have been, now. But Corrigan and I have populated it many times. We know the ins and outs, and we would be familiar faces. We wouldn't arouse suspicion until the moment we whipped out our weapons and demanded the little lady.”

  “You're a genius,” Aaron declared. “If you can remember the layout, it can give us a huge advantage.”

  “What if something happens to you?” Shauna asked. “What if...”

  “Shauna, you have to trust me,” he said. “I will be fine. And if I am not fine...Gwendolyn will be fine. I promise you that. I will lay down my life for her.”

  She looked him right in the eye. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen this personality come out. Aaron had always been funny, easy going, happy to be with anyone. He had also always seen himself as weak, as second in command, as not thinking about the future.

  It was like he was a totally different person. Shauna liked this person. “Good,” she said at last. She trusted him, ultimately, and she also saw no other way out of this.

  “Matheson, Corrigan,” Aaron indicated paper and ink. They got to work, arguing every step of the way, but drawing a layout of what they remembered about the tavern. There was the typical tavern setup; rooms upstairs and the bar downstairs. However, Corrigan also included what looked to be a passageway where the family who owned the tavern lived, and the kitchens.

  “How do you know...?” Aaron asked and Corrigan just grinned.