An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  After all, they had become a team. What sort of partner would he be if he spared a thought for their rivals?

  “Do you think she will join us?” Victoria scuffed the toe of her shoe on the varnished floor of the front parlor, where the butler had duly installed them.

  Christian leaned on the armrest of the settee. “I do not know. I hope so.”

  “As do I.” Victoria observed Christian, who seemed to be struggling to stay awake. The poor fellow looked truly exhausted, with purpled crescents making themselves known beneath his usually bright eyes. Yet, he had not complained once.

  You are made of sterner stuff than I would have thought. Singlehandedly, Christian continued to change her perspective of high society. Or, of his exception to the rule, at least.

  At that moment, the door opened and the Duchess of Sopworth entered. She shuffled slowly, her shoulders stooped, a handkerchief perpetually pressed to reddened eyes that had no doubt shed a veritable flood of tears that morning.

  “Lord Galbury…” the Duchess sniffled. “And… oh, forgive me, I cannot recall your name, dear girl.”

  “Victoria.” She rose abruptly and went to help the older woman. True, she may have held a healthy amount of disdain for this harridan last night, upon seeing the way she had tried to throw her daughter in Christian’s path—despite him already being betrothed with his fiancée missing—but all that had gone now. Victoria saw only a bereft mother, tormented with the intangible pain of a broken heart, whose daughter had been stolen away. The slate had been wiped clean of former distaste.

  The Duchess blinked in confusion. “Victoria? I didn’t think that was your name. Did it not begin with an ‘L’? Liza, perhaps?”

  “Come and sit by me. There is much we ought to speak about.” Victoria took the Duchess by the arm, and carefully led her to the settee, not pausing in her care until the poor woman was comfortably seated.

  “Your Grace, this may come as something as a surprise, but Miss McCarthy here is not my cousin,” Christian chimed in, after a subtle nod from Victoria. She knew it would be better received, coming from him. “She is an investigator, whom I have been working with, in order to rescue my… betrothed, Lady Helena.”

  Victoria heard the hesitation in his voice and felt her chest clench. Had he paused on purpose? Did he no longer feel comfortable, referring to Lady Helena in such terms? Victoria’s mind had been so befuddled by Miss Longacre’s words, that she supposed she was making much out of nothing. He had likely been looking for the correct word, that was all.

  “An… investigator?” The Duchess gaped at Victoria.

  “I know this will be hard to take in, Your Grace,” Victoria said softly. “But it is my solemn promise that I will recover Lady Jane for you, as well as the other ladies who have been taken. I made that promise to Lord Galbury, and I make it to you now. However, in order to do that, we must speak with you about last night’s events. Do you feel able to talk to us? Might I send for some tea, to put you at ease?”

  The Duchess frowned. “I do not understand. Why were you at the ball if you are investigating these kidnappings?” She paused, her eyes widening. “Did you know that someone else was in danger last night? Did you know my daughter would be taken?”

  “We suspected another target, Your Grace, that much is true.” Guilt churned in Victoria’s stomach, for she knew how awfully she had been mistaken. “But we thought it would be Miss Longacre, as she seemed to be the obvious candidate. That was my failing, but I will not fail again.”

  The Duchess began to sob. “I-I-I insisted that we l-leave. If I h-had allowed her to s-stay, then this m-might not have happened. You w-would have been there to p-protect her. Y-you might have s-seen the person who t-took her, and you m-might have realized that m-my daughter was the target instead.”

  Victoria boldly took the Duchess’ hand in hers. “This is not your fault, Your Grace. I made the wrong judgment. Had I not been so certain of myself, and so confident of my ideas, then your daughter might be safe now. I should have been watching everyone. I failed, and that is my fault, not yours. But I will remedy it, and I will find your daughter, with your help.”

  “How can I h-help?” the Duchess stammered.

  “I have some questions. All you have to do is answer them,” Victoria replied.

  The Duchess turned her focus to Christian. “And you trust this young lady? You have trusted her with the safe return of Lady Helena?”

  “I trust her entirely, Your Grace. I don’t believe I would trust anyone else with this case, for she has already made more progress than anyone else who is supposed to be looking for these ladies.” Christian looked to the Duchess in earnest, warming Victoria’s heart despite herself.

  “Very well.” The Duchess dabbed at her eyes. “Ask your questions, and I will answer. Although, I must say… it is rather peculiar to encounter a female investigator, but… I feel more at ease with you than I would with any brutish gentleman who might have tried to sit where you are. I d-do not feel afraid.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” Victoria reassured. “My sole purpose is to solve this case and bring those ladies back. I seek no glory for myself, as other investigators might. I only want justice to be served.”

  The Duchess hiccupped. “Then… I will endeavor to trust you as Lord Galbury seems to. You are certainly convincing. I only hope there is substance to your words, and it is not bluster.”

  “I assure you; it is not.” Victoria kept the affronted edge out of her voice. The Duchess was in the midst of the worst possible nightmare. That allowed for a curt or thoughtless sentiment or two. “Now, may I begin with my questions?”

  The Duchess inclined her head. “You may.”

  “What time did you depart the ball last night?”

  “Midnight,” the Duchess replied. “I remember, because the clock in the entrance hall at the Whitfield household began to chime as we exited.”

  Victoria squeezed the Duchess’ hand tighter. “Very good, Your Grace. And did you take your customary route from the Whitfield residence to your own?”

  The Duchess froze.

  “Your Grace?” Christian prompted.

  “N-no… we didn’t take our customary route.” The Duchess inhaled sharply. “We tried to, but then… the driver stopped. I peered out to see what the delay was and saw a carriage across the road. It looked as though a wheel had loosened, or something of that ilk. The driver asked what the matter was, and a fellow replied by saying that the carriage needed repairing. As such, our driver had to take an alternative route home.”

  Victoria’s heart quickened. “Did you see the fellow who spoke?”

  “Yes, I believe I did.” The Duchess furrowed her brow. “Well, in a manner of speaking. He wore a long, hooded cloak, so I couldn’t glimpse his face, but he was exceedingly tall and slim—I remember thinking he reminded me of a heron. I even remarked it to my darling Jane, though she was having difficulty staying awake.”

  It is him… the skinny fellow that Miss Jennings spoke of. She felt certain of it, but another thought pricked at her mind. A darker, more unsettling one.

  “Did her sleepiness come on suddenly?” Victoria pressed.

  “Y-yes… actually, it did. One moment, she was imploring me to allow her to stay, so she might continue to speak with Lord Marchmont, and the next she could hardly hold up her own delicate weight.” The Duchess’ voice held a note of panic. “Lord Marchmont himself helped her to the carriage. Goodness, he was so very concerned for her.”

  “Who is Lord Marchmont?” Victoria interjected, wondering if they may have happened upon another suspect. One who had resorted to a chemical of some kind, to bring on artificial weariness in the unsuspecting Lady Jane.

  The Duchess shifted awkwardly. “It is not yet common knowledge, but… Lord Marchmont is to wed my sweet Jane. He made his proposal but two weeks ago, so we are awaiting the first of the banns to be placed in the papers.”

  A gasp escaped Victoria’s lips befo
re she could stop it. “Lady Jane is engaged?”

  “A recent occurrence, but yes.” The Duchess paled, biting her lower lip.

  Then why did you attempt to foist Lady Jane upon Christian, despite him being woefully unavailable as a suitor? With Lady Helena’s continued absence, it was easy to forget the reason that Victoria and Christian had been brought together in the first place—because he was to marry Lady Helena, and desired to have her found. He didn’t behave like a gentleman with a betrothed, but then, he had explained to Victoria that he had never quite felt as though he were betrothed, given the friendly nature of his relationship with Lady Helena.

  Do not dare to get your hopes up, Victoria, she chided herself. After all, she had said it herself—Christian was woefully unavailable.

  “Do you not care for Lord Marchmont?” Christian came in unexpectedly.

  The Duchess hesitated, saying a great deal more with her stilted silence than if she had indulged in an outburst. “I… had higher ambitions for my beloved Jane, that is all. It is not that I do not care for Lord Marchmont. I like him well enough.”

  “He is the firstborn of an Earl,” Christian countered. “Did you seek a Duke’s son, instead?”

  “I do not know what I sought,” the Duchess admitted. “But I never thought him worthy of my sweet girl. Her father adores the gentleman, of course, so there is little I can do about it. Oh, I do not know… perhaps there is no one, in a mother’s mind, worthy of their only daughter.”

  “Does Lord Marchmont know what has happened to Lady Jane?” Victoria moved the conversation along. If Lord Marchmont was not a suspect, then he was not important to this case. Blunt, but true. And Victoria was content to strike him from her list, considering they had been recently engaged. There would be no benefit to Lord Marchmont drugging his fiancée and stealing her away, as he could have used the subterfuge of a loving excursion if he had wanted to do such a thing. Besides, Victoria could think of no reason why a fiancé would want to do such a thing, which was more the point.

  “Not as yet. The Duke departed shortly before you arrived, to tell him of the news.” The Duchess lowered her gaze, shaking her head faintly.

  “And what else can you tell us of last night? You left at midnight, and were forced to alter your course, and Lady Jane was experiencing a bout of fatigue that had come on very suddenly.” Victoria paused. “Did you see any other carriages following you? Were there any near the house when you arrived? Did you hear anything in the night, that may have indicated the moment these kidnappers took your daughter?”

  The Duchess looked as though she might burst into fresh tears at any second. “There was one carriage when we arrived home. It trundled up the street not long after we entered the house but carried straight on past.”

  “Can you describe it?” Christian jumped in.

  “It looked… well, it looked rather like the one that had loosened its wheel and blocked the road.” The Duchess nodded to herself. “I presumed the issue had been fixed, and they had gone on their way, though there were no crests or markings to denote it as any person in particular’s.”

  “What about the noises? Did you stir at all when you took to your bed?” Victoria didn’t linger on the evidence of the carriage, for it wasn’t any help them. If there were no crests or sigils on the side, then it would do them no good.

  The Duchess paused. “I thought I heard a wood pigeon, but it sounded… strange. Somewhat too human to have come from a bird, and the wrong hour of the day. I listened for it again, but it did not come, so I assumed I had imagined it.”

  “They were calling to each other,” Victoria said aloud, on impulse. “Your Grace, was your daughter’s bedchamber closed before you discovered her absence?”

  “Yes. That was why we were all so alarmed, for nobody had heard a sound within the house, aside from that pigeon, and the door was locked from the inside. When Jane did not answer my calls, I had two of the staff break the door down, which was when…” she trailed off as wrenching sobs shivered through her.

  “Your Grace, will you grant me permission to observe your daughter’s bedchamber?” Victoria asked softly, giving the Duchess’ hand a sympathetic squeeze. No one deserved to have to endure this torture. No one.

  “Will it help?” the Duchess whimpered.

  “I hope that it may.” Victoria held the Duchess’ tearful gaze, pleading silently with her.

  “Then, you have my permission.” The Duchess rose on shaky legs, and Victoria rose with her.

  Together, they walked out of the front parlor and up the stairs, with Victoria helping the older woman every step of the way, until they reached a bedchamber halfway down the first floor. The door had, indeed, been broken off its hinges, swinging helplessly at an angle. Beyond, however, the room looked oddly undisturbed.

  Victoria left the Duchess’ side to go about her investigations, searching the same places she had searched Lady Helena’s chamber. This time, there was no dust beneath the bed to indicate that anyone had been hiding there, though she did notice that the armoire door lay open. The only thing out of place in a room that was otherwise neat. Even the bedclothes were unruffled, as though Lady Jane had not even made it to her bed before she had been taken.

  “She sank down in the armchair after she had been unrobed for the evening,” Victoria detailed aloud. “She must have been too weary to reach the bed. You see, her slippers are still here, exactly where she must have kicked them off. And here, some strands of hair, where she leant her head against the back of the chair.”

  Victoria glanced from the armchair to the open door of the armoire. A direct line lay between both. “The kidnapper must have waited until Lady Jane was asleep and crept out of the wardrobe to seize her.” Her mind racing, she followed the path from the back of the armchair to the potential hiding place. Sure enough, the articles of clothing that hung from the rail had been pushed aside, and some of the shoes on the bottom were strewn at awkward angles.

  “He hid inside here.” Victoria opened the lid of a large chest that sat inside the armoire. The contents had been dumped in one corner, leaving the chest itself empty. “Not even the lady’s maid would have noticed anything amiss, when she returned Lady Jane’s dress. With it being dark, in addition, all of these removed items would not have been seen.”

  “He hid in the armoire?!” The Duchess turned very pale indeed. Christian swooped into catch her before she could keel over, her entire body trembling with fear. Victoria could not blame her. These kidnappers had violated the sanctity of Lady Jane’s chamber, with at least one concealing himself in a place that should only have brought joy to a young lady. Not terror.

  Victoria closed her eyes and pictured the villain edging out of the large chest and listening out for the soft sound of Lady Jane’s breathing. Whatever chemical they had managed to slip into her drink, at some point during the ball, would have taken full effect by then. All he had to do was pluck his prize and carry her out of the window. She imagined him tiptoeing along the floor, freezing at the slightest creak of a floorboard or snuffle from his sleeping quarry.

  And then… she envisioned him snatching Lady Jane’s limp form up and throwing her over his shoulder. Given her figure, she would barely have weighed more than a child. An easy target.

  Shuddering at the horrifying imaginings, Victoria crossed to the window where a narrow gap let in the cold morning breeze. It had been recently opened, judging by the fine smattering of dust that lay on the sill. With it being autumn, there was little cause to open a window, so that dust had been allowed to gather for some weeks.

  Lifting the window up, until a blast of icy air smacked her in the face, she peered down over the outer ledge and ran her fingertips along the cold stone of the wall. As before, two dark smudges grazed the masonry, where a ladder had been placed.

  The kidnapper must have cooed to his accomplice like a wood pigeon, to let him know that he had stolen their trophy…

  “What have you found?” Christian had
placed the Duchess in one of the armchairs and come to stand at Victoria’s side.

  “Everything and nothing,” she murmured. “They used the same method as before. In fact, I imagine the second kidnapper was already within the house when the thin fellow stopped the Duchess’ carriage on the road. A lookout, if you will, to give his accomplice time to get in position.”

  Christian gazed out of the window. “Why do you say that?”

  “It sounds as though Lady Jane was given something, unawares, to make her sleep. Which means the kidnappers had to have been at the ball,” Victoria explained. “They would have heard the Duchess mentioning they were about to leave and gone on ahead to make sure the blockage delayed the Duchess’ carriage, giving the second man time to reach the house on foot and find a suitable hiding place.”