“It’s twenty-nine Park Street,” she told him tersely. “Can you find it?”
“Ol’ Jim can find anythin’ in London,” the man answered.
Caroline turned to the children. Annie had come up beside her, while her brother waited in the shadows. “Would you like to come with me?” she coaxed. “You’d have a warm place to stay, a real bed, plenty of food.”
Annie looked longingly at the coach, but Caroline could see her brother was unconvinced. “If you don’t come with me, I won’t be able to pay you what I owe you. Three guineas it was, wasn’t it?”
“You’ve a man, don’t you?” the boy accused. “‘E’ll turn us out! ‘E won’t want the likes of us in ‘is ‘ouse.”
“I assure you, my ‘man’ will be so grateful to see me, he’ll welcome you into the very drawing room. Please come.”
Annie hesitated, then climbed into the coach. Caroline followed after her, leaving the door open. In a moment, the boy poked his small face into the vehicle. “Three guineas, you said.”
“Yes. And if you don’t like my house, I’ll hire you a coach to bring you back here.”
The boy climbed in, and the hackney took off. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief.
On the way home, the two urchins gave her the brief, sordid story of their lives. No father that they remembered, and a mother who sent her children out on the streets to beg, and beat them when they returned empty-handed. Still, they grieved when she’d died and left them and their younger sister orphans. Baby Jane had not survived the first winter, but they had, banding together with other street children, living like puppies in rickety, makeshift shelters.
It was a grim, hard life, but they had not yet turned to the numbing oblivion of the gin shops nor entirely lost their humanity. Although she wasn’t certain what she would do with them, Caroline had no regrets in bringing Annie and her brother, Billy, back to Mayfair.
When they arrived at the town house, Caroline told the coachman to wait, then walked purposely up to the door and went in.
Walters greeted her in the hallway and gasped. “Madam! Where have you been?”
“I can’t begin to tell you. But I’m very glad to be home. The driver who brought me needs to be paid,” she told the butler, “and have one of the footmen escort my young guests inside.”
“Guests?”
“Yes. Two children. Without their aid, I probably wouldn’t have survived the night.”
“My lady!” Jeanette came shrieking down the stairs. “We’ve been so worried! His lordship thought you’d been kidnapped.”
“I was.” Caroline gently disengaged herself from the maid’s exuberant embrace. “Where is Devon now?”
“Gone looking for you. He was frantic!”
“And he’s not come home yet?” Caroline asked worriedly.
“No. No sign of him, or that young lord who went with him.”
“Shefield?” Caroline gasped.
“No. The other one, with the bonny blue eyes.”
Caroline heaved a sigh of relief. If Shefield were with Devon, there was not telling what he might do. Christian Faraday, she almost trusted.
“Madam, about your guests,” Walters interrupted discreetly.
Caroline turned to regard her two charges, who appeared even more filthy and bedraggled in the gleaming environs of the town house foyer. “There must be a spare bedroom in the servant quarters,” she suggested.
“Perhaps,” Walters allowed. “But they’ll be wanting baths first.”
“No baths!” Billy faced the butler with teeth bared. “Y’ll try to drown me, I know it!”
A thoughtful expression passed over Walters’s face, as if he were considering the possibility.
“Nonsense,” Caroline said. “You must bathe. It won’t hurt you.”
Billy set up a loud shriek, and Annie joined him. Caroline looked helplessly at the two children, wondering if she should not simply give them the money and send them back to Shadwell.
Jeanette came to the rescue. “If you won’t have a bath, you must stay downstairs with the coalman,” she said. “But he does have a dog, a great beast who’s a first-rate rat-catcher. Would you like to see him?”
Billy ceased his wailing and looked at Jeanette warily. “I would, but we ‘aven’t been paid yet. The lady said she would give us three guineas.”
“By all means, pay him,” Caroline said, close to laughter now. “And while you’re about it, feed them as well. But I agree with Jeanette. If they won’t bathe, they’ll have to stay downstairs with Mackie.”
Billy held out his hand, and Walters, sighing, deposited three gold coins in the grubby little paw. “Now, downstairs with you,” the butler ordered.
Billy eagerly followed Jeanette, but Annie stayed behind, watching Caroline shyly. “I would ‘ave a bath now,” she whispered. “I would be a lady someday, a lady like you.”
Caroline smiled at the girl as tears filled her eyes. “As soon as Jeanette returns, she’ll see to a bath for you... and for myself as well. I must look utterly hagged. Good heavens! The night I’ve had!”
Walters gestured and a young footman took Caroline’s arm. “My lady, let me help you upstairs.”
“Yes, I’d like to bathe and change immediately. And we must send someone after Devon.”
“He took the pistols,” Walters told her. “I’m certain he can take care of himself.”
Caroline shook her head. “You don’t know the brute he faces. The murderer is not only cunning and vicious, I believe he is a madman as well.”
Fourteen
He’d failed. Devon leaned his head into his hands as the coach pulled in front of the Beaumont town house. He’d spent all night in the hopeless search for Caroline. Counting the hours that had passed, he knew the truth. She was dead.
He raised his head and glanced out at the graceful mansion. What would Merton Beaumont think of him now? The man had committed a priceless treasure into Devon’s hands and he had destroyed it. There would never be another woman like Caroline. So courageous and full of life, so generous and kindhearted. Compared to the shallow beauties of the ton, she was a vibrant wildflower among a bouquet of vapid hothouse blooms.
The grief inside him deepened, confusing his already weakened wits. This was his penance, this awful pain he felt. He must drag himself through life, bearing this awful burden. If only he could find the strength to go on.
“Sir?” The driver peered in the doorway. “May I help you in?”
“Yes.” Devon bestirred himself. “I’m certain you’re exhausted, and the horses need a rest as well.”
He climbed from the coach, his limbs heavy. Dipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out some coins and offered them to the driver.
The driver shook his head. “That’s not necessary, sir. Lord Bedlington pays me well.”
Devon let his hand drop back into his pocket. He’d been so wrapped up in his search for Caroline, he’d almost forgotten about Christian and Ginter, “I’ll send someone for his lordship,” he told the driver. “Go home now and rest.”
The man bowed. Devon turned and walked up the steps. He felt like an old man, as if he had aged years in the past night. If only it were true, and he had only a little of his miserable life left. How was he to bear it, knowing that he was to blame for Caroline’s death?
Rafe. He invoked the name like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood. He still had his son. For Rafe’s sake, he must endure.
The butler met him inside the doorway. “Your lordship! We were growing concerned.”
“Have a carriage sent to Radcliffe Highway,” Devon ordered. “To a place called the Blue Parrot. The driver should fetch home Lord Bedlington and my man Ginter. They’re probably still waiting in an upstairs room. Have the man tell them that they might as well give up the scheme.”
Walters looked puzzled. Devon considered explaining then decided not to. His failure was too painful to dwell on.
He moved past the butler and began
to climb the stairs to the second level of the house. He paused at the doorway to the huge ballroom. Servants were busily cleaning up the aftermath of the previous night. The polished wood floor had already been covered, and the refreshment tables put away. Devon felt the choking grief well up inside him. Not a dozen hours before, he had danced with his wife there. She had looked magnificent, a dazzling mermaid, a siren. He had wanted to capture her and never let her go. If only he had not left her. She would be safe now.
What had he been thinking? He planned a trap for a man he knew was both clever and dangerous, and then, urged on by his bachelor friends, let down his guard. But he had paid for his stupidity. He would keep on paying the rest of his life.
Drawing back from the doorway, he sought the stairway to the third floor. He needed rest. Although he knew he would not sleep, at least he could lie down. He walked down the hall, pausing in front of the door to his wife’s bedchamber. All he could think of was making love to his wife on that room.
The faint sound of a voice reverberated through the heavy mahogany door. Devon frowned. Was that Jeanette? Did she not yet know that her beloved mistress would not be coming home?
He started to walk on then his conscience stopped him. He would not be such a coward as to refuse to face his wife’s maid. Jeanette must know the risk he had taken with Caroline’s life. Although she would surely never forgive him, avoiding her now would not make her think any better of him.
He knocked softly on the door.
Jeanette opened it. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. “La, sir, but I’m glad to see you. I’m having a terrible time with her ladyship. She kept insisting that she would go looking for you herself. After what she’s been through, she don’t need to be gallivanting around the city.”
“Her ladyship?” Devon forced the words past the constriction in his throat.
“You know how she is—determined as a costermonger’s mule. I’ve had some work to even get her in the tub.”
As Jeanette spoke, there was the sound of splashing water. “Devon? Is that you?” called a voice from the interior of the room.
Devon froze, afraid to believe what he heard. “Caroline,” he whispered.
There was a shriek. Jeanette barely moved out of the way before a naked and soaking wet Caroline came hurtling at Devon. He opened his arms and clasped her to his chest.
“You’re safe,” she murmured over and over. “You’re safe.”
Devon stood there, too stunned to do more than embrace his wife fiercely.
Jeanette had more composure. “My lord, my lady,” she gasped, “the door!” When they didn’t react, she grabbed Devon and shoved him and his dripping burden into the room. She shut the door behind them. “It’s obvious you’re glad to see each other, but really!” she remonstrated.
Devon pushed Caroline’s damp curls away from her face and tilted up her head so he could look at her. “I thought the murderer had you. I thought you were lost to me forever.”
She began to cry. “I’m fine. I’m so relieved to see you. I was so afraid for “you. Your friend Shefield... he drugged me. He was going to kill me.”
Devon went numb. From a distance, he heard Jeanette’s disparaging words. “I’m not surprised,” the maid said. “I never liked the man. Such an arrogant, cold-eyed blighter.”
“Quentin,” Devon murmured. “Quentin drugged you?”
Caroline nodded, her eyes still full of tears. “He’s the murderer. He gave me ratafia to drink, and it must have been drugged. I grew dizzy. The last thing I remember is his taking off his domino and the way he looked at me.” She shuddered in recollection. “Then when I woke up, I was in a hackney with these two ruffians. I knew they—”
Devon gripped her arm tightly. “You’re certain it was Quentin. Couldn’t someone else have put the drug in the punch?”
“If you had seen his face, you wouldn’t doubt it.”
“I don’t doubt you, but I don’t understand either. Quentin told me that you’d taken ill and a footman was going to help you upstairs. He must have hired someone to abduct you.” Devon took a deep breath, facing the enormity of the betrayal.
“There were two men,” Caroline said as Jeanette wrapped a towel around her. “I heard them talking. They didn’t mention Quentin by name, but instead spoke of ‘the master.’ It was obvious they were afraid of him. In fact, that’s how I escaped. I pretended to be dying. When they thought I’d ‘croaked,’ as they put it, they were so terrified that ‘the master’ would exact retribution that they fled, leaving me alone in the hack.”
“My God, Caroline, you came so close to being killed. I will never forgive myself for what you’ve endured!”
Caroline embraced him, holding the towel in place. “You’re too harsh on yourself, darling. You couldn’t have guessed that Quentin was the murderer. You thought he was your friend.”
Devon felt himself grow cold inside. Quentin had framed him for Beaumont’s murder, blackmailed him, then had Caroline kidnapped. “Did your abductors say why ‘the master’ wanted you?” he asked.
“They implied that he meant to ravish me and then kill me.” She trembled in his arms. “I don’t know why he would want to do such a thing. Is he mad, do you think?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps. I know he despises commoners. Perhaps he didn’t think you were good enough for me. Perhaps that’s why he killed your father.” Devon’s rage awoke. “That bastard! And all the while he was posing as my friend!”
“I’m so sorry.”
Devon gently pushed her away and balled his fists. “I’ll kill him for this!”
“My lord,” Jeanette said. “You must not do anything rash. Let the authorities handle this.”
“And what if he’s already bought them off, or they don’t believe us? Quentin can be very cool, very convincing. We have no real proof. If Quentin denies everything, we have no way to link him to Beaumont’s death.”
“Devon,” Caroline said, her eyes wide. “Promise me that you won’t confront him by yourself. Promise me!”
Devon gritted his teeth. “I’ll bring Christian with me as my second. Quentin would not dare take on both of us.”
“If you kill him, there will be a scandal, sir,” Jeanette pointed out. “Everyone will speculate as to the cause of your falling out. There might be unsavory things said regarding Shefield and her ladyship. It’s distressing, but true. The ton like nothing better than gossip, and the cruder the better.”
“She’s right,” Caroline said. “While I don’t care a fig for what society says about me, you have your son to consider. A duel, especially one that leads to the death of a lord, could blacken the Langley name for years to come. You’ve told me of your father’s reputation. Don’t give your son a worse legacy.”
The chill afflicting him deepened. Quentin. Harberry had already cost him too much. He would not allow the fiend to rob him of his good name as well. “A. duel would be too easy a death for him,” he said. “I want to see him suffer as I have suffered.”
Caroline shivered. “He must be stopped somehow. He cannot be allowed to walk the streets of London.”
“I will stop him. Have no fear of that.”
“What do you plan to do, my lord?” Jeanette asked.
‘I’m not certain yet. I must talk to Christian, I would have his aid in this.”
“Oh, Devon, be careful!” Caroline clutched at his arm. “If anything should happen to you, I don’t know how I’d go on!”
Devon stared at her, awed by the concern in her eyes. “I won’t fail you, Caroline.”
Their gazes locked. Devon realized he wanted to crush his wife to him and cover her with kisses. She must have guessed his thoughts, for she turned to Jeanette and said, “That will be all,” in a weak, breathy voice.
“What about your bath? The water has grown cold even as we speak.”
“Have a footman fetch more hot water,” Devon ordered the maid. “Lots of it.”
Jeanette hurried to do as he bid
.
Devon walked deliberately to the fireplace and began to stoke the blaze. “It’s cold in here,” he told Caroline over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”
She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “You can warm me,” she whispered. Her hands slid down and around to rest on the buttons of his breeches.
He removed her hands and turned to face her. “What a wanton you are. What will the servants think?” he teased.
“It’s too late to worry about scandalizing the staff. Bringing home those two little ruffian children has already put me quite beyond the pale of a respectable lady.”
Devon raised a brow. “Children?”
“After I escaped from the kidnappers, I knew I could not risk walking around at night trying to find a coach. I had to find shelter somewhere. I finally took refuge in an old coal bin with these two little urchins. They gave me a blanket. Saved my life, really. I couldn’t just leave them there.”
She raised her gaze to his face. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”
“Angry? How could I be angry with you?” He stroked her unruly blond curls. “My lovely Caroline, you are a remarkable creature. I know many a woman who would have a fit of the vapors at the very thought of being stranded alone in an unknown area of London. Yet, you spend the night in a coal bin and come out of it as unruffled and poised as ever.”
“Well, I truly had no choice. I wasn’t going to freeze to death!”
Devon laughed. “Of course, you had no choice. I meant that I admired you. That you are brave and sensible and smart, and I am so very glad to have you back.”
Caroline’s green eyes glinted. “Then, show me, Devon. Show me how glad you are.” He rose to the challenge in her beautiful, flushed face. He tilted his head down and began to kiss her. All the warmth and life that was hers flowed into his body and took away the dreaded chill. He nibbled her lips, stoking the heat between them. Buried his fingers in her lush softness. It was summer again, bright and bountiful and sweet.
Devil's Own Bargain (London Lords) Page 17
