“No, it is a mistake!” Tears began to pool in Larissa’s eyes. She grabbed on to Randall’s arm, tightening her hold as if it could prevent his apprehension.
“I’ll see you hang for this, Trent!” Lord Melton exclaimed. “You stay under my roof, try to seduce my fiancée, and rob me blind!”
“Whether he is guilty or not is up to a judge to decide,” Lawrence silenced Melton.
“You’ve put the saddle on the wrong horse,” Randall claimed. One of the constables wrenched his arms from his side and pulled them to the front.
“There’s been a mistake all right.” Lord Melton leveled an accusing finger at Randall. “You’ve made it, Trent. Highway robbery is a criminal act, but stealing from your host goes far beyond the pale. Hanging’s not good enough for you.”
The second constable placed the manacles on Randall’s wrists. The dirty, cold metal restraints locked with a sickening clink.
Lady Brookhurst, who stood at the top landing, gave a cry and folded to the floor.
“Maman!” Dorothea cried and rushed to her mother’s side. “Bring the salts!”
“Take him away!” Lord Melton ordered. The officers, with Sir Randall between them, took a step toward the front door.
“Please,” Randall pleaded. “A word to my wife before I leave.”
Melton turned to his guests. “I will allow this for Lady Trent’s sake, for it shall be the last time she may set eyes upon her husband if I have anything to say about the matter. Three minutes in the parlor. And make sure you don’t lose sight of him!” he thundered at the soldiers.
Larissa led the way to the parlor. The constables ushered Randall in and stopped at the door, still in full sight of their prisoner. Randall kept his back to them, shielding her from view.
“You are innocent!” she professed, keeping her voice to a whisper. “You cannot let them take you away.”
He shrugged, raising his manacled wrist. “As you see there is little I can do.” He took her trembling hands into his. “I’m afraid there is someone who feels they have a serious score to settle with me.”
“But who? Why?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t know if I ever will discover the reason.” This might be the last time he’d see her. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. “I am only sorry there is not time for—” Mere words felt inadequate. “I wanted you to know what I feel for you—” His voice strained, he could not continue. He glanced over his shoulder and knew the soldiers listened in. “My most fervent wish would be for you not to become further involved, for I am already lost.”
“You must not say such things,” she protested.
“Time’s up,” one of the soldiers announced.
“Sweet Larissa, give me a kiss and bid me farewell.”
Larissa stood on tiptoe and leaned forward to press a kiss upon Sir Randall’s lips. In the next instant, a soldier grabbed him by an elbow and dragged him away, preventing their lips from meeting. In a final attempt to touch him, Larissa reached out to stroke his cheek, only to meet with emptiness.
Robbed of her kiss, Randall gave up hope he would ever set eyes on her again. “Wills, take care of her,” he called out over his shoulder, trudging between the guards through the foyer. His moist gaze met hers for a fleeting moment before he was pulled out of the house.
William caught Larissa, preventing her from watching Randall board the prison transport. He was glad she would be spared from that humiliation.
Larissa hated how Sir Randall had been pulled from her, and it infuriated her that he had been placed in this predicament. What was she going to do? “Where will they take him?”
“To prison.” Lord William placed a sympathetic arm around her, leading her away from the others for the privacy of the parlor and closed the doors.
“He didn’t do it! He didn’t!” Larissa professed in quiet anguish.
“I know he didn’t,” Lord William agreed, when well out of earshot from the others.
Larissa twisted out from under Lord William’s arm to face him. “We have to help him. We have to discover who did this to him.” She grabbed his jacket and shook him. There was no one else who would help her. No one she could trust. Lord William believed in Sir Randall’s innocence as much as she did. He just couldn’t refuse her. He couldn’t. “You have to help me. You must!” she cried in desperation.
“Of course, Larissa. I will help you,” Lord William replied with calm composure. “Please sit and try to calm down.”
The rattle of the tea cart grew louder, nearing.
“Would you care for something stronger than tea? Sherry?”
“No. Tea will be fine.” But she didn’t want even that. It was all she could do to keep a civilized head. Larissa did not know where to start, or how to go about an investigation. Hopefully, Lord William would have an idea.
After emptying her cup, she lurched to her feet and made a dart across the room, feeling the need to move about. “Where shall we begin?”
“I think we should first question motive.” Lord William leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Who would want revenge against him.”
“He did not have any enemies that I know of,” she offered, wringing the silk handkerchief she had used to dry her tears.
“He had made one recently, I believe …” Lord William’s voice trailed off.
Larissa came to a standstill behind the sofa, bracing her arms on the back, riveted in complete attention. “Who is it?”
He hesitated. “I do not think I should make hasty accusations.” Larissa gave him a hard look, hoping to convince him to tell what he knew. “However ….”
Lady Brookhurst’s shrill voice carried through the house. “I will not stay here a moment longer! This has gone quite beyond the pale, Dorothea.”
“Maman, we cannot just up and leave,” Dorothea’s softer voice followed.
“We can do just that.” The groan of the risers told of Lady Brookhurst’s mounting the stairs, with the light tread of Dorothea behind. “Now, I’m going to tell Regina to begin packing our things at once. At once, I say, and we’ll leave this wretched place.”
Lord William reported to Larissa an hour later. “Lady Dorothea and her mother are packing up and leaving for London.”
“Do you know why?” she asked.
“It seems Lady Brookhurst has taken offense to my brother’s involvement in Sir Randall’s arrest. Terrance was quite taken with Dorothea.” Lord William paused. “However, if revenge is what she was after, then there is no reason for her to remain.”
“Revenge? Dorothea? Whatever do you mean?”
“From what I understand, Randall paid particular attention to Dorothea. Almost as if—” Lord William appeared reluctant to continue, but did so. “As if his intentions were toward marriage. But that was of course until it was discovered you two were already wed.”
“I find it very difficult to believe Dorothea capable of such a thing.” Larissa thought Dorothea had been so kind not to harbor any bad feelings. Perhaps she had been too willing.
“Oh, she’s capable, all right.” There was no question of doubt in his voice. “She has quite a reputation.”
“If she has such a reputation then why did Sir Randall, or for that matter your own brother, become involved with her?”
“My brother is blinded by Dorothea’s beauty, polish, and good manners. As for Randall, I cannot say.”
Larissa was glad he did not elaborate about Sir Randall’s experience with the ladies and tried to keep focused on the problem of freeing him from prison.
“If we could just speak to him, perhaps he would know why she would wish to do this.”
“No. I cannot allow you to set foot near Newgate. Under no circumstances would he ever want you there.”
“We must do something.” Then it occurred to her. “Dorothea could not have done this alone. She must have had an accomplice, someone to pose as Bussin’ Billy.”
“It could be almost anyone.”
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“It was a man, of that I’m sure.” The beginnings of a plan began to form in her mind. “If an impostor has been instrumental in condemning Sir Randall, perhaps an impostor can help vindicate him as well.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Lord William gave Larissa a most peculiar look.
“We must return at once to London,” she announced. “And see if we can persuade Lady Dorothea to aid us without her realizing.”
A few hours later, Larissa waited in the foyer with her bonnet in place, her green traveling cloak fastened, and her bandbox in hand. The solitary thought that repeated in her mind was, The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.
“Are you ready, then?” Lord William inquired several minutes later when he arrived.
Larissa nodded and hurried to the front door without waiting. “We must be on our way.”
“Where the devil are you going?” Lord Melton shouted, striding into the foyer. He appeared more short-tempered than usual. “William!”
Larissa stiffened. The marquess was indeed in ill temper. Lord William remained calm and responded. “I am seeing Lady Trent back to London.”
Melton grumbled to himself and glanced from his brother to Larissa, considering his judgment on the matter.
“Terrance, surely you can see Lady Trent cannot remain here. Sir Randall has entrusted her well-being to me. I must see her safely to Rushton House,” Lord William explained.
The fact was all the other guests had gone. With Larissa and Lord William leaving, Melton would indeed be all alone in his monstrosity of a house. It appeared he was suffering and did not intend to suffer alone. Larissa thought in his present condition the marquess should not inflict himself upon others. He was not fit to share company with anyone.
“Oh, all right,” Melton blustered. “But I expect you to return at once. Do you hear?”
With his brother’s blessing, Lord William hurried Larissa outside to the waiting coach. He signaled for the driver to be off to their destination. By the time they arrived, Larissa intended to have a feasible plan to set into motion.
Lord William sat on the opposite bench from her. It did not take more than a few moments before his body began to slouch in the seat and his head lowered onto his chest as sleep overtook him.
“Oh, do stay awake.” Larissa prodded him.
“Awfully sorry,” he apologized. “It’s a bad habit.” He readjusted himself so he sat upright, making a discernible effort to remain alert. “Where shall we begin? Ah, yes. Think back to last night,” he prompted. “I’m certain whatever you can remember about last night will be quite helpful.”
“Yes, you’re right. I must concentrate and recall every detail of the robbery. There must be some hint that would lead us to Bussin’ Billy’s identity.”
“Was there something someone said or did, anything peculiar that happened at the ball?”
Larissa clasped her hands together, setting them in her lap, and leaned back against the squabs, taking a few minutes and staring at some nonexistent point.
“All right, if nothing comes to mind, what about the robbery itself?”
Larissa sighed. “The evening was warm. We took the curricle.”
“The curricle? Dashed bad form. Can’t imagine Randall would suggest such an abominable thing.”
“He didn’t. It was Lord Melton who suggested it. He said it didn’t matter. That this was only a country affair.”
He leaned closer to her and his voice softened to a whisper. “I think the real reason was he wanted to be alone with Lady Dorothea.”
Larissa ignored Lord William’s last statement and concentrated on his first. “It was warm that night, wasn’t it? Did Lord Melton not say Dorothea had the pistol in a fur muff?”
“Why would she carry a muff?”
“I want to know why she would carry a pistol.” Larissa looked up at Lord William, considering hers the more important of the two questions.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She knew. Dorothea must have at least known of, if not orchestrated the robbery herself.
The hour was late when the carriage rolled into Town. Larissa and Lord William had only just arrived and had not yet had a chance to sit when Laurie appeared, announcing Lord Fenton Harding’s arrival.
“By all means, Laurie, show Lord Fenton in,” Larissa responded.
“Harding? Whatever is he doing here?” Lord William mused, taking up a crystal tumbler and heading for the liquor decanters.
“We’ll never find out unless we ask him, will we?” She removed the glass from Lord William’s grasp and pointed to the doorway to an adjoining room. “You’d better get out of sight, or all our plans will be ruined.”
“Me, hide?” he cried, half taken by surprise and half insulted. “How undignified.”
“Better undignified than discovered. Go on now.” She gave him an encouraging push in the direction of the side door. William reclaimed his glass and snagged the brandy decanter before making his exit.
Larissa settled on the sofa, looking calm and manageable, since she didn’t know what to expect from her guest.
Lord Fenton bounded up the stairs, fairly running to Larissa’s side. He settled next to her and took her hand, lending comfort. “I heard the terrible news. I came as soon as I could,” Lord Fenton said this without a trace of the temper he had displayed on the day of the barge party.
“If you had arrived any sooner, you would have been here before me.”
“I hope you are not making jokes at a time like this,” he replied in all seriousness.
“I am sorry. I am feeling rather fatigued.”
“It is I who should be sorry. How inconsiderate of me to overlook your comfort.”
“I appreciate your efforts, Lord Fenton.”
“Please, I do wish you would call me Fenton.”
She smiled. “Fenton, then.”
“I want you to know I shall be here if you should need me.”
“How very kind of you.” Larissa found she almost could forget his momentary burst of anger, as if it had been a dream that she had long ago.
“He didn’t deserve you,” Fenton whispered. “Sir Randall was not at all as attentive to you as a husband should be. He carried on despicably with other women right under your nose. I cannot imagine that you would ever have tolerated his vulgar behavior.”
“I did not find his behavior suspect in any case,” she replied.
“You cannot deny, you in turn sought solace from another quarter.” He made it sound like an accusation.
“Well, I …” Larissa found it quite impossible to refute. How else would it appear when one saw her situation through his eyes?
“Regardless of your past circumstance and because of our prior association, I wish you to know I shall be entirely at your disposal. I beg you, do not hesitate to depend on me.”
After kissing her hand in farewell, Fenton drew her into a warm embrace. She could feel herself tremble within the solidness of his arms.
“Remember, my dear Larissa,” he whispered against her hair, “I shall be here for you.” He released her and strode off, pausing at the top of the stairs to glance back at her as if to assure her of his stoic resolve.
“What do you think of all that?” Lord William drawled. He emerged from his hiding place, holding an open decanter and stopper in one hand and his half-filled glass in the other.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Larissa replied, drooping into a thoughtful repose.
Lord William finished his drink and refilled his glass. With a practiced single motion he set the near-empty container on the sideboard and replaced the stopper.
The next morning, Larissa made straight for the Brookhurst residence on Green Street.
Waiting in the morning room, Larissa gathered all the warmth and kindness she could manage to present a genuine display. The success of the plan depended upon how well she could convince Lady Dorothea of her sincerity. This would be the performance of a lifetime.
&nbs
p; “How kind of you to receive me,” Larissa offered with a warm smile.
“Think nothing of it, Lady Trent,” Dorothea said in a kind and understanding lilt.
“Please, you must not hold with formalities,” she begged. “At Carswell Castle, you called me Larissa.”
“Yes, of course, Larissa. I feel sympathetic with your plight. The only marginally less scandalous thing that occurred was Lord Melton turning in Sir Randall. I’ll never be able to forgive him for that.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “My only distress is that I could have been interested in him.” Dorothea’s gaze darted back to Larissa. “I refer to Lord Melton, of course. I do not for one minute believe Sir Randall is Bussin’ Billy.”
“Of course not. I know you believe in him as much as I do.” Larissa watched Dorothea’s expression. “You’ve been the kindest friend. That’s why I came to see you myself to give you the good news.”
“Good news?” Dorothea’s interest was piqued.
Larissa gave an exhilarated smile. “Sir Randall is being released. They’ve caught the real Bussin’ Billy.”
“Released?” Dorothea looked suitably shocked and stammered, “H-how? W-why?”
“I am so very relieved,” Larissa sighed.
“How fortunate for you and for him as well.” Dorothea added, “I can see that he loves you very much.”
“Can you?” Larissa prompted for conversation’s sake. There were times she had detected a genuine look of adoration in Sir Randall’s eyes.
“It is unmistakable.” Dorothea’s tone flattened, at odds with her usual musical inflections. It sounded as if she were quite envious.
A scant half hour later, Larissa boarded the carriage and traveled down the street, turning the corner away from the townhouse. She called to the driver to stop and leaped out. She ran back toward the house to find Lord William watching the house she had just left.
“How did it go? Do you think she believed you?” Lord William kept his eyes focused on the front of the residence.
“I think so,” Larissa said. “I hope so.”
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