This was more trouble than Hodgson bargained for.
Retreating to the library, he instructed the butler not to mention to the police that he was here. Let Warren do all the answering. He was just a lowly clerk. In fact, he would prefer not to be anywhere near here when his employer returned.
Hodgson decided against calling for his cloak or hat. Unlocking the window, he looked back into the library. For the next couple of weeks, there were friends he could visit in Scotland. And from there, depending on how serious the charges might be against Warren, Hodgson might just take a trip to America.
Distance was what was called for right now.
Hodgson had one foot out the window and was struggling to get the next one out when his coat was hiked up to his ears and he was physically lifted up and thrown back into the room.
He landed on all fours on the library floor.
“Are you leaving?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Hodgson saw a tall figure climbing in the window after him. He’d never met the man in person, but had no trouble guessing who he was. Captain Seymour. He struggled to his feet in an effort to preserve some shred of dignity.
“No. Just getting some fresh air in the courtyard.”
“Excellent. For I wouldn’t want to let the policemen at the door think that you were trying to escape.”
Hodgson batted at an invisible speck of dust on his sleeve as he backed away a step or two. Best to keep a safe distance.
“Escape? I have no reason to escape. I understand the police are looking for Mr. Warren.”
“They want Warren for questioning. But they have already sent several men to your lodgings to arrest you, Mr. Hodgson.”
“Me?” Hodgson asked, looking up nervously. “For what?”
“They want you on a number of charges, I believe. Including murder.”
He took a step back.
“More than a dozen arrests have already been made. You, sir, are the one that everyone points to. The person who made the deals, who handled the payments, and who ordered the killing,” Seymour said. “Very convenient of your employer to have a puppet like you, against whom everyone will testify.”
Hodgson shrank back, banging into the wall of books. “I am just a clerk, Captain. I have no position or power.”
“That’s not so, according to the men you ordered to follow and kill Miss Warren. In addition, Miss Burdett-Coutts was told yesterday by your employer that you will be taking over the Calcutta operations of the company after your marriage to his niece. So it is obvious you have a great deal to gain.”
This was exactly what he’d been afraid of moments ago. John Warren was as slippery as a snake, and on too many instances in recent months Hodgson's face had been the only one the criminals of London’s underworld knew.
“I assure you, Captain, this is all a mistake. My pitiful income, my modest style of living, will all support my assertion regarding the lowly position I hold. I only pass on orders dictated to me.”
Seymour gestured toward the door. “Excellent. Why don’t you tell all of this to the police? I am certain Warren will also support what you say.”
Hodgson let out a nervous breath. This was the end of him. No one would believe him. And John Warren had already stated his position before he’d left this morning.
His goose was cooked. He would go to prison. He could hang.
Seymour stepped toward him, his intention of physically pushing him to the door apparent.
“Please,” Hodgson begged. “Please help me. Whatever it is you need. Whatever information you are after. Allow me to help you now, before an arrest is made. I have access to my employer’s books. I can give you information that the police will never unearth. They don’t know where to look for it.”
Seymour stopped, glaring down at him. “Do you know the whereabouts of Miss Warren?”
Hodgson recalled the urgent correspondence that had arrived this morning. It was sealed and addressed to John Warren. He’d sent a runner immediately to Captain Seymour’s house with the letter.
“Do you know where she is?” he asked more sharply.
“I cannot be certain. But I can tell you Lord Beauchamp sent a note to Mr. Warren this morning.”
CHAPTER 41
The door closed behind them. She was trapped.
“Thank you for receiving me, m’lord,” Sophy spoke serenely, giving no indication of the confusion and betrayal mauling her insides at the sight of John Warren in Lord Beauchamp’s company.
To give him credit, the nobleman kept up a pretense of civility.
“Catherine. I expected to see you this evening, but not before.”
“My uncle was of the opinion that I would not be attending tonight, so I decided that it would be a dishonor to my family to come all the way to England and not meet you.”
“But we have met,” he said, “when you were an infant.”
“I know my father would not wish to have me slight my godfather.”
Beauchamp nodded brusquely, as if he recognized what she was reminding him of—the importance of their relation and of his responsibility. There was no warmth in his voice or actions, though, as he walked over to where a decanter and glasses sat on a table near the window.
Sophy thought of the ledger book she’d brought along. It was on a table behind her. Neither man seemed to have noticed it. Her uncle was still standing by the door, cutting her with his gaze.
“Would either of you care to sit down?” Beauchamp asked graciously.
“You might have told me your wishes, instead of climbing down the walls like a thief,” Warren scolded, leaning on his cane as he took a seat.
Sophy remained standing in front of the table. “I might have done so, if our meeting last night were a conversation and not so much a reprimand.”
“You deserve nothing more, considering your peculiar behavior these past months.”
“I explained the cause of it. I was injured.”
“Obviously not hurt enough to attend social events and be seen in public.”
Beauchamp turned to Sophy. “So why have you really come here?”
She guessed they were past the pleasantries. And since he’d summoned John Warren here, she might as well speak her mind, regardless of her uncle’s presence. She knew she would not have another chance. Still, she needed to choose which battle she wanted to fight right now.
“I am here to seek your mediation in a matter of great importance. In a disagreement between my uncle and myself.”
“Don’t you dare speak as if I am not here,” Warren growled.
“You are here,” Sophy said calmly. “And that makes this a perfect opportunity to resolve a matter that you had no interest in discussing last night.”
Warren sat forward in the chair, leaning on his cane. “You will marry as your father instructed.”
“My father would not have chosen a husband for me whom he had not even met—especially not someone who is a lowly employee of yours.”
“I have it in writing.”
“A forgery, no doubt.”
“Stop defying me, girl, or—”
“Or what, uncle?” she asked, biting back the words that were so ready to spill out. Sophy wanted desperately to accuse him of all the crimes that she knew he was guilty of. She ached to let him know that she was fully aware of his plans for her demise. But she had no champion in this room.
Her only goal now was to walk out, alive. It had been such a huge mistake to come here.
She turned to Beauchamp. “M’lord, I have no desire to be married.”
“The answer is no,” Warren interrupted sharply. “You will do as I—”
“I'd like to spend some time in London. Take my time and chose a husband…with your guidance,” she added in a rush.
“That’s enough,” Warren snapped, pushing to his feet. “You can forget about waiting three weeks for the banns to be read. You will be on a ship back to India on the next tide. A wedding can be performed once you are
back in Calcutta.”
“My father had so much respect for you,” Sophy spoke to Beauchamp, ignoring the tirade of the other man. “He always told me that you would be my champion in times of difficulty. I only ask you to intercede on my behalf against my uncle's unreasonable wishes.”
With a tired expression on his face, Beauchamp turned and looked out a window. Sophy knew she had her answer.
“You will leave this room with me now,” Warren threatened, “or I will have you forcibly removed and dragged home.”
“Home?” Sophy said with as much disdain as she could put into the word.
Just then, she heard loud noises outside the door. She considered running.
“What is that book?” Beauchamp asked, his attention fixed on the ledger sitting on the table behind Sophy.
She was in enough trouble without her uncle realizing what she had in her possession. The aristocrat walked toward her. Without the ledger, she would lose everything. Her uncle would steal her inheritance and continue his insidious criminal activity. With it, she could fight and bring him down.
Sophy reached for the book and gathered it against her chest. “It is mine.”
There was an urgent knock on the door.
“Bloody hell! That is my private ledger,” Warren bellowed, recognizing what she was holding. “You are a thief. Give that back to me.”
Sophy backed away from the two men. There was another knock, followed by what sounded like a scuffle outside the door.
Beauchamp turned to Warren. “What is in the book?” he asked, suddenly interested.
Sophy edged toward the door.
“A statement of accounts. Profits, losses, expenses.”
“Names?” Beauchamp wanted to know.
Sophy turned and dashed toward the door.
“You don’t want her leaving with it,” Warren warned, moving to cut her off. “There are names and other private details in there that—”
The door behind her uncle burst open, sending him staggering into the room. Sophy whirled around to see Edward push two footmen aside and step in. Shouts of complaint and explanations rang out. There was a crowd outside the door. Sophy ran to him.
“We couldn’t stop him, m’lord.”
“He wouldn’t wait.”
Sophy clutched at Edward’s arm and glanced nervously at the door. More of Beauchamp’s servants were gathering in the hall.
“Your lordship, it was urgent that I speak with you before the arrival of the authorities,” Edward announced, stepping in front of Sophy and blocking her from John Warren.
“Authorities?” Beauchamp asked.
“The police. They will be here momentarily to arrest John Warren.”
“Leave us!” Beauchamp ordered the servants. Everyone scattered and the door closed.
“Stop this nonsense. What would the police want with me?” Warren snapped. “Captain, I told you before. You have no right to be meddling in my private affairs.”
“Your secretary Peter Hodgson has provided more than enough evidence for your arrest.”
Sophy saw Beauchamp visibly shrink back against a table. He appeared to be an expert at assuming the expression of an innocent bystander.
“Get out,” Warren shouted raising his cane and stepping toward Edward. His face was crimson with fury, the veins in his temple bulging. “Nothing you say will make any difference in this chit’s fate. You cannot have her. You will not—”
“Wait by the door,” Edward said under his breath to Sophy.
Sophy backed slowly toward the door, watching the scene unfolding before her. Beauchamp was only an observer, but her uncle appeared out of control.
“There will be no marriage arranged by you, Warren. In fact, you will not be in any position to make any decisions having to do with your niece.”
Sophy froze. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as her uncle pulled a small pistol from his jacket pocket. She could only watch as the old man lifted the weapon and pointed it at her.
“Then I will at least have some satisfaction before going to prison.”
He fired.
She didn’t know how it happened, but Edward reached her uncle, pushing him back as the pistol flashed.
The loud bang, the smoke, and the blood. The ledger book dropped from Sophy’s arms. She cried out and ran toward Edward. He was holding his shoulder and standing over John Warren, who lay sprawled on the floor.
“What the devil!” Beauchamp shouted as the door burst open.
This time, uniformed Metropolitan police officers poured into the room.
During the pandemonium that ensued, Sophy’s focus was on Edward. Blood was seeping though the hole in the fabric and soaking his coat. He appeared to be oblivious to it, though, as he fired instructions regarding the arrest of John Warren.
As they dragged her uncle out, she turned to Lord Beauchamp and found him the very caring godfather, ordering his servants to bring a doctor and reaching for Sophy’s hand to offer fatherly support.
CHAPTER 42
“The ledger book is gone,” Edward told Sophy after returning to Berkeley Square the next day. “No one claims to have picked it up, and Beauchamp denies having seen it in your possession.”
She was relieved that he was back. Moving into his arms, she had to be careful to not put any pressure against his left side. Edward had taken the bullet meant for her in the same shoulder that he’d been wounded before. He claimed the wound was just a scratch and had not slowed him down, but Sophy was in the room with him when the doctor had removed the lead ball from his flesh. He was simply being brave.
“You saw me holding the ledger.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, kissing Sophy on the brow. “But Lord Beauchamp has used his connection with the royal family to distance himself from the entire affair. He denies any involvement with your uncle beyond a few casual investments. And as you know, the ball went on as planned last evening.”
“But without the ledger, what proof is there?”
“Behind the public posturing, Beauchamp has prompted his friends to act. They are all accusing Warren of financial misconduct and of lying to your father and other investors.”
“I wish I had read the entries more closely,” she said. “And what about the other ledger books that might have been in John Warren’s office?”
“The authorities are going through them. I believe they may have been tampered with, however—perhaps by Beauchamp’s people, though we will never know. I was told today that it appears entire sections of the ledgers are missing.”
She took Edward by the hand, leading him upstairs. They’d brought Priya here to Edward’s house last night, but he had yet to meet the older woman when she was fully awake.
“Without those books, will there be enough evidence against my uncle?”
“Peter Hodgson is proving to be a willing and talkative informant. There will be enough to put the old man away for the rest of his life.”
Sophy paused before the closed door of Priya’s room. There was so much that she needed to think through. Most urgent in her thoughts, she needed to shut down the sordid business of supplying young women and children to the brothels of London. And that wouldn’t be easy with those entries gone. Without them, she had no clear view of the scope of the activity or the villains involved.
A thought occurred to her.
“Shill," she said. “The name Shill was included in every entry that I read. And I heard his name at the pleasure gardens and at the warehouse on the Isle of Dogs. He must be important.”
“I have no doubt that you are correct. There has been no arrest of anyone with that name. But we’ll see what our Mr. Hodgson has yet to tell us about this Shill.”
Based on the little she’d discovered, Sophy knew that another shipment of women was on its way to London right now. She needed to be ready not only to intercept that delivery and send the victims back, but to find a life for them so they would not fall into a similar trap. It was a daunting prospect.
<
br /> “Mrs. Perkins tells me that Priya is as devoted to you as anyone could ask.”
His comment brought a smile to Sophy’s lips.
“Do you think your companion will approve of me?”
“How could she not? You saved my life and her life and the lives of countless others. You are a hero.”
"How would she feel about me as your husband?"
"My husband?" she asked brokenly.
"Will you marry me, Sophy?"
She looked up at him with eyes filling with tears. There was nothing she wanted in this world more than to spend the rest of her life with this man. He gave her reason to live. He gave her the hope to face each day. She wanted him. She loved him as she knew it was impossible to ever love another.
“But my name, my family’s reputation, is forever tarnished. I will be an embarrassment to you.”
“I love you. You will be my pride and my pleasure,” he told her softly. “Whatever needs to be put right, we’ll do it together. Whatever reparations need to be made, we’ll make them together.”
She looked up into Edward’s dark eyes and knew that, regardless of the troubles awaiting them, there was no place she wanted to be but beside him. With him, nothing was overwhelming. If he was willing to take her, then how could she refuse?
“What do you say, Sophy? Will you marry me?”
“You should marry him right away, little one, before he realizes how much trouble you really are.”
Both of them turned. They hadn’t heard the door open. Priya stood in the opening, still weak and leaning against the door frame, but her face showed her joy.
She nodded to Sophy. “He is definitely a champion. You should marry him before he has a chance to change his mind.”
Sophy rose on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. “I will. I will marry you.”
EPILOGUE
Six months later
Cornwallis Square, Calcutta
The opening ceremonies of the founding of the new schools for women and girls had been going on all month. This one was the third event Edward and Sophy had attended this week alone, and he was beginning to worry about her becoming overtired.
Ghost of the Thames Page 23
