by Jane Lark
‘We must find her,’ she said. ‘Have a carriage readied.’
‘There is one ready. I was going myself now.’
‘Then I will come. I will tell your father and meet you in the hall.’
‘The carriage will be full if you travel too. We will need two. Have them ready a second. But I will go ahead. She will have gone to the coaching inn and I want to check what time she left there.’
After his mother had left, he gathered some of his things and threw them into one of his bags, then went downstairs to find John.
Why had Charlie not trusted him? John would have protected her family. But nor had Harry trusted her. He had not accepted her judgement and desire to leave yesterday. His mother had refused laudanum and Charlie had said she did not want it; he had insisted she take it because he had thought it right.
Harry’s fingers rubbed at the ache in his temple. He had been confused yesterday and not thinking straight. He had been treating Charlie like a man wounded in battle when she was not that.
Sweet tea…
A cutting painful sound that mocked him left his throat.
He should have gone last night when she had asked. And judging by his mother’s response, he should have given Charlie sweet tea and promised to take her with him—he could have kept her safe from Hillier. Except he did not want her in the same town as that man.
A servant directed Harry to the library and he was told that the others were awaiting him outside as he handed over his bag to be put on the carriage.
Some of his brothers and sisters and their spouses and his aunt and cousins were still in the dining room taking breakfast. He hoped they did not come out and he assumed that was why the others were outside, to avoid questions over their departure.
‘John,’ he said when he walked into the library. ‘Charlie has gone again.’
John had been sitting behind his desk, looking up at the ceiling. He stood as Harry crossed the room. ‘Your wife is a fool.’
‘I do not believe she is thinking clearly.’ She was now travelling to Brighton without money for food or anywhere to stay.
‘I am leaving to Brighton and Mama is coming with me.’
John’s expression stiffened as he walked about his desk. A sense of urgency and concern in his stride. ‘Hillier takes advantage of women. That is his way. He took advantage of my father’s death and offered Mama shelter, then trapped her. He was my father’s superior, whom she trusted. If I were you, I would hold my sword to his throat, then let it slide across his skin as he pleaded for mercy.’
‘Or your sword. You can fence.’
‘That is a thought I have imagined often. But I am not going to hang for him and nor must you.’
‘I will be sensible.’ Harry turned away.
‘May God and justice go with you. Bring your wife back here and her family if they are there. They will be welcome.’
Harry lifted a hand, acknowledging the words as he kept walking.
It was not only Drew and Henry awaiting him outside, but Rob too.
‘You are not supposed to come,’ Harry said to his brother as he climbed up into the carriage.
‘I may enjoy my political career, but my family come first and you were there beside me in my darkest hour.’
Harry smiled at him. ‘Mama and Papa are coming too now. They will follow us and Charlie has gone ahead of us.’
All of them looked at him in surprise.
‘I presume Charlie has gone on the paid coach from the Pheasant Inn. I am about to find out.’ He did not explain further, but looked out of the window as the carriage rolled into motion.
They had married quiet women, although Caro had a past that had made things awkward for Rob in the beginning, but Harry… well… the rebel of the family had found a rebellious wife.
Chapter 14
The skirt of her dress and the layers of her petticoats swirled about Charlie’s legs, blown by a strong breeze as she walked along the seafront. The sea roared up on to the shore beside her. It was angry today and the sound of it had drawn her back from the moment she had climbed out of the carriage. It was as though Harry had never existed in her life and yet she could feel his ring on her finger within her glove. He was real. That had happened to her. She had known happiness for hours at a time.
Then what now?
What would she say to Mark? What would she do now?
She had no money to go elsewhere. No money to return to Harry. She had only thought of coming to persuade Mark to leave Ginny alone.
She strode towards his house, the house she had lived in for years and upstairs was the bed she had lain in with him for years.
Ginny would not be forced to do that.
Her heartbeat thundered so loudly when she saw the house; it deafened her as it pulsed in her ears.
There was nothing in the street that spoke of the sin in that house.
Her hand lifted and her white kid-skin-gloved knuckles knocked.
The door opened and the manservant smiled at her.
Cruel. Mark had been cruel to her. ‘Where is Colonel Hillier,’ she said as she stepped in. Longing for a pistol in her hand. Harry had probably thought she had not known how to fire it. But she knew. Mark had taught her once when she had been watching him clean his weapon.
‘He is in the parlour, Miss. And not to be disturbed. He is with a young woman.’
A young woman… And the whole house had known what that meant and she had hidden in her parlour and let some other poor girl endure what she had sacrificed herself to. Glad that for one night it was not her.
Not any more! No. She would not look away any more.
She turned towards the parlour. The servant moved in front of her. ‘Get out of my way.’
‘No, Miss. You do not want to interrupt him.’
She did. She did! But…
She knew where his pistol was in his room. She turned and ran up the stairs. Her hands shaking as she climbed. The servant, Jackson, did not follow. Perhaps he thought she had gone to her room. The servants must know that Mark had wanted her back.
The pistol was in the drawer, with powder and bullets. She had everything she needed. She charged it quickly, just as he’d shown her. Then, in moments, she was running back downstairs, only now the hall was empty and there was a pistol in her hand.
Mark’s voice seeped through the door of the parlour, in the tone he had that encouraged and urged her to do what he wanted. It was not her in there, but it was another woman.
She turned the handle and threw the door open, holding up the barrel of the pistol and aiming.
The woman had vivid red hair and she turned and looked at Charlie in horror. She was not a young woman, she was a girl. A girl Charlie had not seen for years. She had thought she might walk past her own sister in the street and not know her. But she knew her. ‘Ginny… Run, sweetheart, run.’ She aimed the pistol again as her sister rose from the floor and did exactly as Charlie had said.
Mark’s hands lifted, reaching out towards her as if he reached for the pistol that was aimed at his chest. His trousers hung open, and his skin reddened with anger as his arousal tumbled like a broken tower. The tip of the pistol lowered. She wanted to shoot that.
‘Now Charlie. Do not be silly.’
No. She would not be silly now. But she had been an absolute fool when she was young. Her forefinger squeezed against the trigger as she heard the front door slam behind her fleeing sister.
~
The pace of Harry’s heart was a heavy resounding thud, but his breathing held steady. There was a battle cry yelling inside him, screaming as he charged, holding up his sword, as he knocked on the door.
He had been here twice and met Charlie’s gaze and never guessed what her life had been like behind this door, when it had been closed on guests.
Drew, Rob and Henry stood behind him; his rear guard. His mother and father were on their way here too. His father had been arranging rooms at the inn for them all so they had somewher
e to take Charlie to.
If she was here…
The door opened.
He swallowed, about to speak, but instead of the door opening to let them in someone ran out of it. A woman. A young… girl. With red hair. ‘Catch her!’ He shouted at the others as the door slammed shut, but the girl dodged through them all and kept running. ‘Ginny!’ He shouted after her as a shot went off inside the house.
Damn.
He spun back around and hammered on the door with the side of his fist. Inside he could hear commotion. ‘Let me in!’ He yelled, looking back at Rob and Henry. ‘Run after her. That was Charlie’s sister.’
He turned back to the door and hit it with his fist again and again. ‘Damn it, let me in!’ Was Charlie in there? Who had fired? Who was hurt?
‘Let me in!’ He should have brought his pistol.
A man shouted inside, roaring with anger. Hillier.
Finally the door was opened. ‘Out of my way.’ Harry shoved the servant aside and Drew followed. The noise had come from the dining room, from the room he’d played cards in.
‘Send for the guard!’ Hillier yelled at the servants as Harry ran in there.
Hillier was standing with the pistol in his hand, buttoning up his flap, and Charlie, she was in there.
The shot had made a hole in the plaster across the room at about knee height, as though the shot had been knocked down or aside. ‘Charlie.’ She had fired it and then Hillier must have snatched the pistol.
Her gaze turned to Harry just as Hillier gripped a fistful of her cloak and yanked her back, pulling it tight about her neck. Harry lifted his hand. He had no weapons but his hands. But he had Drew with him as a witness and his father was coming, and he did not think Hillier’s servants fool enough to seek a prison cell in exchange for their service.
‘Let her go,’ Harry said, as he saw Hillier turn the butt of the pistol, as though he would hit Charlie with it.
‘Let her go,’ Drew repeated at his side.
But as Drew said it, Harry could see his fiery wife was freeing herself.
Her hands lifted and pulled the bow tying her cloak loose. Her cloak was left in Hillier’s hand as she ran to Harry. ‘Good girl,’ he said as her bonnet pressed to his shoulder and she gripped his midriff.
Harry’s hand lowered. Now he was no longer afraid, the only remaining emotion was anger. ‘You have hurt enough people. No more. When the guard arrive they will be told what you have done.’
‘And you think they will believe your word against that of a Colonel.’
‘They will have enough witnesses; they will not be able refute the truth. My brother, who is a member of parliament, and my cousin, who is the heir to an earldom, saw Ginny run away. And with a duke as my brother, no one would dare to say anyone within my family lied.’
Charlie let him go. ‘Where is Ginny?’
‘She dodged through us, but Rob and Henry went after her.’
‘She will be afraid of them.’
His hand cupped Charlie’s cheek. She could not have been here long if she still wore her bonnet. ‘She will be fine. We will find her.’
‘Harry!’
‘No!’ Charlie shouted.
Something hard and heavy hit his forehead, making the room spin.
Damn! His hand lifted to his head and swiped at the blood that now ran into his eye. Hillier had used the pistol like a club and then run.
‘Are you well?’ Drew’s hand was on his shoulder.
He was dizzy and confused by the sudden change in the situation, but nothing more. ‘Yes. Where has he gone?’
Drew turned and went to the door. Harry followed, wiping the blood from his eye on to his coat.
Someone knocked on the front door. But Hillier was not in the hall. Two of the servants were. ‘Where did he go?’ Drew asked.
One of the men looked towards a door under the stairs that must lead to a servants’ exit.
‘Charlie.’ Harry looked back. He would not leave her here alone. She was behind him. He clasped her small hand in his now bloodstained one as Drew opened the door and ran ahead of them.
When Harry caught up with Hillier he had no idea what he would do. But as they descended the narrow spiralling stairs he heard the rattle of swords in the hall above. It had been the militia at the door.
They had arrived so quickly, his father must have sent for them.
His feet hurried down the stairs as Drew ran on ahead, while Charlie followed. It was not a big house. As they left it through a servants’ door into a garden they saw Hillier passing through a gate at the far end.
He turned to Charlie. ‘Where does it lead?’
‘To the mews, where his horses and carriage are.’
As Harry wiped the blood from his forehead again, Drew turned back. ‘You go on. I will go the other way and out into the street.’
Harry nodded as he found Charlie’s hand once more. He pulled her on as Drew turned back, wiping the blood off again on to the sleeve of his coat as they walked.
He pulled open the gate and stepped out into an alley.
‘The mews is along there.’ Charlie pointed to an open set of gates further along.
Shouting echoed out from the cobbled courtyard of the mews as they reached it, and it was not only Hillier’s voice.
There was an arch that led out into the street on the far side and in the centre of the arch stood an auburn-haired man waving his cap in his hand. Hillier was yelling at the man, who blocked his path and his horse reared up.
Damn. Hillier did not have a good control of the animal. He lost his seat as the horse’s forelegs kicked out at the man. Good Lord. Hillier’s arms flailed desperately, trying to catch a hold of something to stop his descent as he tumbled backwards. There was nothing for him to grasp.
Harry let go of Charlie’s hand as Hillier landed on the cobbles with a vicious cracking sound and a heavy thud. His head had hit the stone first.
The courtyard was suddenly full of the militia and he heard his father and Drew as he knelt at Hillier’s side. The man’s eyes were open, staring as his body convulsed sharply, while his head lay in a widening pool of vivid red blood.
Harry lifted Hillier’s head with his already bloody hand and he could feel the broken bone of his smashed skull.
‘Ah.’ The exclamation was in his mother’s voice.
He looked up. ‘Turn away, Mama.’ Her face was a white mask of horror. He looked back at Charlie. ‘Do not look.’ He knew such sights could scar a mind for life.
Hillier’s body convulsed one last time, then became still as the pulse of the blood running through Harry’s fingers stopped and became only an ebbing flow of the final moments of life draining away.
Harry set down Hillier’s head on the stone, then unbuttoned his own coat and stripped it off as the Captain of the militia began asking questions of everyone. He covered Hillier’s head. Then stood.
‘It was that man,’ one of the grooms accused, pointing to the man who had been in the middle of the archway. ‘He scared the horse deliberately.’
‘Rodney.’ Charlie was looking at the man too.
So that was the brother.
‘I did nothin’ wrong. I wanted to stop ‘im, that was all. I wanted to speak to ‘im. ‘E reared ‘is ‘orse at me!’
Damn this mess. Harry wiped the sticky blood from his hand on to his trousers as nightmares whispered through his head, but he shut them away.
‘You are under arrest.’ The uniformed men gripped Rodney’s arms. He immediately began to struggle.
Harry wiped the blood from his forehead on to the sleeve of his shirt, unsure now what blood was his own and what was Hillier’s. He lifted his hand as Rodney’s struggle became more violent. ‘Stop. Go with them. Do not make this worse for yourself. We will resolve it later.’
‘And who are you?’
Charlie gripped his arm, her fingers clasping at his thin shirt. ‘My husband.’
‘Where is Ginny?’
‘Gon
e. But my brother and my cousin are trying to find her. Go with these men.’
Charlie’s brother had already ceased struggling. But as the militia turned him away he looked back at Harry. ‘Swear you will find her.’
Harry nodded as Charlie’s fingers gripped more firmly about his arm.
‘Son.’
Harry looked at his father while Rodney was led out through the arch.
‘Your head will need stitching.’
‘I have survived with worse,’ Harry answered.
His mother was still staring at Hillier’s body with wide eyes of disbelief.
‘Mama.’ Drew put an arm about her. ‘Come away. This is not our concern.’ Of course he did not know that Harry’s mother faced a nightmare she had thought was left behind long ago.
Harry looked at Charlie. ‘Go back to the inn with my mother.’
‘I cannot. We must find Ginny.’
‘Papa and I will find her. You go with my mother. It will be dark soon and I will not have you wandering the streets. I will find her, I promise, and she may already even be at the inn if Henry and Rob caught up with her. Go. It is better that you will be there when one of us finds her.’
‘Harry, you should go back too,’ his father said. ‘To change out of those blood-stained clothes and clean your wound, if nothing else. You will frighten the girl if you found her, looking as you do. Drew and I will go and look. You take your mother and Charlie back to the inn.’
His hand lifted to wipe his eyebrow, but then he saw the amount of blood on him. Yes. He should change. If nothing else. He looked down at Hillier’s body. One of the grooms was holding the horse.
‘Harry. Hillier’s household will see to the body. Leave it to them.’ Drew had come to him.
He glanced over to see his father embrace his mother.
‘Go and change,’ Drew said.
Harry looked at Charlie and his fingers pressed over hers as they still held his arm. ‘I will take you to the inn.’ His gaze transferred to his mother as he walked Charlie about Hillier’s corpse. ‘Mama. Come with us.’
