Lord Geoffrey fell to his knees beside her, and pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips as he did so. She clung to him, a little puzzled but delighted by his actions. Peterson met her eyes over Lord Geoffrey’s shoulder and smiled. Lord Geoffrey pulled back and gazed at her.
“Oh Harriet, you are truly wonderful! Whilst I would never wish for you to have suffered what you have today, I am beyond grateful for what you have discovered. Your courage and resourcefulness never cease to amaze me. When any society miss might be expected to have fainted dead away, you were alert enough to listen and take note. And then on the cart! You are magnificent, magnificent!”
He had spoken her name! Without the ‘Lady’ in front of it! Her heart suddenly beat harder, the intimacy of her unadorned name on his lips leaving her even more flushed than the kiss.
Peterson cleared his throat, whilst feigning great interest in a book which had been left lying on a side table.
Lord Geoffrey, who had, for those moments, completely forgotten Peterson’s presence, dropped Harriet’s hands and leapt to his feet, a flush of embarrassment on his face.
“Ah, Peterson, it seems that we will need to interrogate our prisoners. I am sure that one of them can be convinced to tell us where the box is hidden. That would be considerably quicker than searching every hidden part of the cellars that the maps show, and probably parts that exist, but aren’t on the maps.”
Lord Geoffrey shuddered internally, even as he spoke. He hated interrogations. A good clean fight was one thing, but the process of drawing information forth was a dirty thing. Gerry had always been the one amongst the Hounds who dealt with that – expertly and efficiently. They were all beyond grateful that he had done that dirty work for them. Tonight, Geoffrey would have to deal with it himself.
“Yes, my Lord, I will arrange that – tonight – the less time they have to think about it, the more likely they are to tell us. Will you wish to be present?”
Lord Geoffrey took a deep steadying breath.
“Yes, it is my duty to do so.”
Peterson nodded, having expected nothing less.
“And, my Lord, shall I arrange for Lady Harriet and Miss Carpenter to be conveyed home? And what message do you wish delivered to Viscount Pendholm to explain all of this?”
Harriet paled. The thought of explaining all of this to her brother and mother did not appeal at all.
They were reasonable people, and Charlton, she knew, had dealt with traitors before, but neither of them would be happy about her involvement in this mission, especially when they heard the details of today’s events. But hear they would, for it was now past any reasonable time for her to be returning, even after a supposed dinner.
“I think that, before we consider returning Lady Harriet to her home, we must first call for some ointment for her poor wrists and ankles, which are, I now see, worn quite raw from her struggles. I do apologise, Lady Harriet, for not having that attended to sooner. Also, I suspect that some food would not go amiss, as you have had nothing since breaking your fast this morning.”
Harriet looked positively enthusiastic at the suggestion of food. It was, at least in part, because that would delay facing her family, but the embarrassingly loud growl of her stomach was a pointed reminder of her actual need to eat.
“Whilst those matters are addressed, let us deal with our prisoners. Once that is done, I will personally escort Lady Harriet and Miss Carpenter to Pendholm Hall.”
Harriet met his eyes, her gratitude and relief showing clearly.
“Thank you, Lord Geoffrey, your escort will be most appreciated.”
~~~~~
The three prisoners, when asked questions separately, demonstrated rather different reactions.
Nobby refused to say anything, knowing full well that there was enough wrongdoing in his past to deliver him to the hangman’s noose no matter what he said now. Lord Geoffrey let him be – for he had, as far as they could tell, no knowledge of what had gone on inside the house.
Ashley and Jobs were another matter. Threats of immediate violence had little effect on Ashley, but Jobs was quickly persuaded that cooperation might, perhaps, save him from the hangman’s noose. Compared to death, transportation seemed a far better option. Lord Geoffrey gave his word that, if Jobs provided them a guide to the location of the hidden box, he would do his best to ensure that transportation was the sentence. But only once they had recovered the box – if Jobs gave them falsehoods, he would make certain the sentence was death.
“Jus’ one other thing, milord. If’n I tells ye, don’ ye be putting me back near Ash. If’n he knows I’ve ratted him out, I’m a goner for sure.”
“That can be arranged. Now speak.”
Peterson took careful notes as Jobs described the path to the secret doors in the cellars, and the exact location of the hidden boxes. Lord Geoffrey was startled to hear that below the cellars, there was not only a priesthole, dating back to the time of Cromwell, but below even that, a secret chapel with an ancient altar. The boxes were, sacrilegiously, it seemed, hidden in a cavity within the altar itself. Finally, when Lord Geoffrey was satisfied that they had all of the information needed to recover the boxes, Jobs was locked away separately, still securely bound.
But confirming the truth of his words would need to wait for the morning. For now, he must face Lady Harriet’s family, and admit to the terrible danger he had placed her in, by allowing her to assist him. He would understand should they forbid him from ever seeing her again. At least his mind would. His heart was not so sanguine about that possibility. The ache in his chest at the very thought suggested that such a possibility would leave him empty forever.
~~~~~
Harriet perched on the edge of the carriage seat, desperately wishing that she could lean against Lord Geoffrey’s temptingly close shoulder. But fear of the coming conversation kept her from moving. Miss Carpenter had exclaimed over her poor wrists and ankles, and tutted about the battered state of her dress, but said nothing further. Harriet knew that she would honour their agreement and support her.
When they alighted before Pendholm Hall, Lord Geoffrey graciously offered her his arm, and led her inside. The warmth of the strong muscle beneath her hand reached her, even through the layers of his shirt and coat, making her feel safe and protected somehow, as she had felt in his arms when he had lifted her down from the cart.
Lord Geoffrey, at that moment, was feeling quite as nervous as she was, if not more so, although he strove to keep his manner steady and calm, for her. Her scent wrapped about him, bringing, as it always did, that sense of safety and care. They would manage this conversation, together.
When they were admitted to the house, they were shown to Lady Sylvia’s private parlour. As was their habit, Charlton and his mother had settled for a late evening coze, to talk through the events of their day. Lady Odette had already retired, happy to allow Charlton this time with his mother, knowing that he would not stay away from her long.
Charlton took one look at Lord Geoffrey’s face, and his sister’s dirtied and torn morning dress, and leapt to his feet. Miss Carpenter followed them into the room, and the door closed behind her.
“What has happened?”
“Oh my poor child – your wrists – what has happened to you?”
Charlton’s voice tangled with Lady Sylvia’s as they both spoke at once.
“It is rather a long story, I am afraid, but it must be told now, despite the late hour.” Lord Geoffrey sounded more nervous than Charlton had ever heard him. Geoff didn’t do nervous – in all their years at war, he had always been cool and steady, no matter what happened. This would be most interesting.
“Do sit then, and I’ll call for some tea.” Lady Sylvia was as practical as ever. In that moment, Harriet thanked God for her mother’s nature. They sat, Geoffrey and Harriet instinctively staying together, sinking gratefully onto a comfortable chaise. Miss Carpenter settled on a small chair in one corner of the room, and tried hard to
be invisible.
A somewhat strained silence ensued.
Once a maid had delivered the tea, and left them with it, Charlton’s patience failed him.
“Out with it Geoff – I can see that there is a lot to tell, so please get on with it – or… is it Harriet’s story to tell?” He looked at Harriet, waiting. Harriet looked at Lord Geoffrey, and some unspoken communication passed between them, which Lady Sylvia observed with great interest, then Geoffrey spoke.
“I’ll start at the beginning. Charlton, you know I’ve been working for Setford. Lady Sylvia, I’ll repeat this part for your benefit. You already know that I received ownership of Witherwood Chase as reward for services to the crown during last year. What you don’t know, but Charlton is at least a little aware of, is that along with the property, I received a mission. The previous owner of Witherwood Chase was part of a treasonous plot. When it was discovered, he was dispossessed of all his belongings and incarcerated with many of his conspirators. But not, Setford suspected, all of them. So the price of me receiving the property was to ferret out any evidence still hidden there, and the remaining conspirators.”
He paused for a sip of tea, feeling a little better now that he had begun.
“Hence my obsessive poking into every corner of the house, and taking inventory of everything I found. Which, I must say, has proved a capital idea. One which is set to make me a remarkably wealthy man, when all of those ugly paintings are sold. When Lady Harriet volunteered…”
At this description, Charlton snorted, and Lady Sylvia smiled in amusement. Geoffrey fixed them with a baleful look.
“As I said, when Lady Harriet volunteered to assist, I was most grateful. For, whilst she and Miss Carpenter trailed around with Mr Featherstonehaugh, taking interminable notes about the obvious contents of the house, I was free to search for hidden things. Things which I conclusively failed to find.”
“Ah,” Charlton broke in, “which was when you sought our suggestions at Meltonbrook Chase, about ways in which hidden rooms or passages might be concealed, and how to find them.”
“Correct. Shortly after that, accidentally, Lady Harriet stumbled, quite literally, on a secret door, and opened it. Only I was present at that moment. Inside the room revealed, we discovered detailed maps of the entire house, showing most of the secret passages and rooms as well. We initially kept it between ourselves, but then found ourselves forced to draw Miss Carpenter and Mr Featherstonehaugh into our confidence to some degree.”
At mention of her name, Miss Carpenter squirmed uncomfortably on her chair. So much for not being noticed….
“The last few weeks we have searched, usually separately, through every hidden passage we could. And found nothing but more dust and mouse droppings. This morning, we moved into the last two sections of the passages, except for the cellars. I admit, I was not hopeful, and searching the cellars, with access through the servants’ areas was not a task I looked forward to.”
Lady Sylvia nodded, listening to Lord Geoffrey, but watching Harriet’s face.
“By late afternoon, I had finished searching my allocated section of the passages, with no better luck than on any previous day. I waited in my study for Lady Harriet’s return. But today, she did not appear at the expected time. I waited, thinking that perhaps she had found some extra passages, and it was taking longer. But then I realised that it was far too late. I sent you that message – I do wholeheartedly apologise for the subterfuge – so as not to worry you unnecessarily, and set out to search for her.”
Lady Sylvia had gone very pale, and was looking, again, at Harriet, and her bandaged wrists. Geoffrey continued, telling the tale of his frustrated and increasingly fearful search, the discovery of Harriet’s hair trapped in the passage, and his reaching the room where she was held. When he spoke of noticing the hair and thus finding the door, Harriet gazed at him with open adoration.
At that point, Harriet spoke up, taking over the telling of the tale, describing her day, how she had stumbled upon the secret doors, and walked in on the conspirators, only to be captured and bound. When she spoke of the plans they had made for her, Charlton’s face went hard as stone. When she reached the point in the story where Geoffrey had arrived at the room, he joined her in the telling of the rest, their voices interweaving as they shifted from one part to the next, instinctively finishing each other’s sentences until the tale was complete.
Lord Geoffrey spoke of her heroic capture of the ribbons and controlling the horses, Harriet spoke of Lord Geoffrey’s heroic disabling of Ashley, his leap to the cart, and the capture of Nobby.
To Charlton and Lady Sylvia, watching them, it was very obvious that the bond between them was extraordinary, and that something remarkable had been forged that day, beyond the achievement of capturing the villains. Lady Sylvia wondered if Harriet and Geoffrey had admitted their feelings to each other yet.
“So there you have it. A sordid and distressing tale. I can only most humbly beg your forgiveness for ever placing Lady Harriet in such danger. I will never forgive myself. At that moment when she teetered on the cart, I knew that my life would not be worth living if I had lost her. Now, to complete this damnable mission, all that remains is to go into the cellars tomorrow morning, and retrieve the hidden boxes, confirm that their contents are what Setford seeks, and allow him to carry off the conspirators and the papers.”
“I insist on being the one to open that altar and remove the boxes. After all of this, I think I’m entitled to that.” Harriet’s voice was strong, and her bright cheerful manner was returning, even after all the shocks of the day.
Geoffrey looked at her a moment, then nodded.
“Charlton, would you do me the honour of being there as well? I would like another witness to this, one that Setford knows and trusts.”
“Certainly, I wouldn’t miss it!”
“You’re not leaving me out of this either! After what my daughter has been through for those boxes, I want to see them with my own eyes.”
Lord Geoffrey, seeing a glint in Lady Sylvia’s eyes that was a rather clear echo of her daughter in a determined mood, inclined his head in acknowledgement. She smiled.
“Good, we are agreed then. We will bring Harriet to Witherwood Chase in the morning, and see this thing complete. And Lord Geoffrey – of course I forgive you – I am fully aware of how difficult it is to prevent my daughter from doing anything that she truly wishes to do. I do not blame you in the least. But I am overwhelmingly glad that you were there to save her – as you saved us all last year.”
Lord Geoffrey flushed at Lady Sylvia’s words.
“You are most gracious my Lady. I will look forward to your arrival on the morrow.”
He turned to Lady Harriet, took her hand a moment, and bent to kiss it, before standing and bowing to the others, then took his leave.
~~~~~
In the carriage, he allowed himself to relax, and discovered, to his chagrin, that he was shaking. He had been so afraid that they might blame him, might cast him from their house, that he might never see Harriet again.
The relief was overwhelming. He could not bear to never see her. He loved her, he wanted to…
What! What had he just thought? He rewound the thoughts and there it was. He loved her. It was a startling idea, yet it seemed utterly right.
But… how did she really feel about him? What if her affection really was just the infatuation he had always thought it? What would he do?
Harriet had barely slept, between the aching in her arms and legs from the long hours bound in awkward positions, and the exertion afterwards on the cart, and the feverish dreams of Lord Geoffrey’s arms about her, and his lips on hers, all mixed in with more terrible dreams of being bound in the darkness.
She tried to sit patiently whilst her maid dressed the wounds on her wrists and ankles again, wincing a little at the pressure on the sensitive flesh, then found herself still ravenous after the exertions of the previous day. Lady Sylvia was happy to see that
Harriet’s appetite was undiminished by her adventures.
Once in the carriage, she fidgeted, anxious to see Lord Geoffrey again, desperate to finally see the papers that had brought them all so much trouble, and, at the same time, afraid of what would follow. The days ahead looked bleak and empty if she should no longer have an excuse to spend them in Lord Geoffrey’s company.
She had thought, last night, when he had cared for her, held her, that she saw something in his eyes, in his manner, that she had longed for, this year past and more. In the grey morning light, she was no longer sure. Did he care for her, truly, or was it just her wishes making her see what wasn’t there? If he did not care for her, what would she do? For she loved him. She had from almost the first time she had met him. That would not change. She had known that he was the man she wanted, been quite certain of her feelings from the start – but how would she live if he never returned her love, or even affection?
As Witherwood Chase came into sight, she pushed those thoughts aside – first, the cellars, and the boxes of papers.
They were shown into the study and Lord Geoffrey greeted them a little seriously, although his eyes locked with Harriet’s the moment she stepped into the room. That moment seemed to last forever, and to be gone too fast. He dragged his eyes away, and, showing them to seats placed near the desk, he brought forth the maps of the house.
Peterson had been busy, and had marked, on the map of the cellars, the places described by Jobs. Once they were all clear on the path before them, Lord Geoffrey rose.
“Shall we get this over with?”
“By all means. I would like to see these papers that are so precious as to be, apparently, worth my life and more.” Lady Harriet rose from her seat. Lord Geoffrey led her from the room, followed by the others. The servants were shocked at the procession that entered their domain, and scurried aside.
Being Lady Harriet's Hero: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 4) Page 9
