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

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An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 24

by Emma Linfield


  “I don’t know, My Lord. We didn’t see the carriage upon the road, though I did notice some wheel ruts where we found that bracelet. Perhaps the kidnappers accosted the carriage, to capture Victoria, and brought the evidence here so no one would find it, out in the open.” Benedict tightened his grip on the reins. “Simon would certainly have come to find us, to let us know what had happened, if he’d been able to. So, either he’s here somewhere or…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The silence was telling enough.

  “Let us not think of such things now.” Christian bowed his head subconsciously. “Let us pray that he is alive, and that Victoria is unharmed. And let us hope that the constables arrive soon, before I do something entirely foolish.”

  He had been a brave soldier, in his time. Despite his privileged upbringing, he had charged into battle alongside men of all backgrounds and had not hesitated when the bugle called for action. On that field of war, status had not mattered, and neither had wealth. Death had come for his fellow men, all the same. It did not discriminate.

  And, though he would admit to being scared when duty required him to sit in the saddle of his warhorse and thunder toward a line of artillery, he had never actually feared death. He felt that same resignation as he looked upon the farmhouse. For, if the constables didn’t come in the next few hours, he would charge in there by himself, if it meant saving Victoria from potential harm.

  Until then, he had to hope that her sharp wits and quick mind could keep her safe.

  Christian paced ceaselessly as dawn turned to morning, and morning stretched on toward afternoon. He couldn’t fathom what was keeping the constables. Indeed, he had begun to wonder if they had merely told him they would come to help, without ever intending to follow through on that promise.

  “I cannot simply stand here and do nothing!” he barked, though he was careful to keep his tone hushed. He and Benedict had retreated to a small glade within the forest, where their horses could graze and sup the water from a nearby stream. But the farmhouse still lay within their proximity, and Christian did not know if there might be spies watching from between the moss-covered trunks of the trees.

  “No one is asking you to,” Benedict replied. “We will wait an hour more, and if the constables don’t appear, then we’ll have to come up with a different plan of action. Be patient, My Lord, for Victoria’s sake. If you charge in there, as I’m sensing you want to do, you’ll put her life at risk.”

  Christian dug his fingernails into his palms. “If they touch a hair on her head, they shall feel the full weight of my wrath.”

  “Aye, if they don’t kill you first.” Benedict patted his horse’s neck and stared off toward the farmhouse. “You’re not the only one who’s worried, and you’re not the only one who wants to crush every last one of those ingrates. But Victoria needs us to be prudent. Let’s not disappoint her now.”

  “You appear to have changed your tune, Admiral. When you discovered what Victoria had done, I feared you might be the one to strangle her.” Christian tilted his head. “You were furious with her.”

  “That is the beauty of a relationship between a father and daughter, even if she is not my blood. It gives a person the ability to forgive just about anything.” Benedict gave a wry chuckle. “And I’ve come to see why she did what she did. If she hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here, waiting to strike down all those involved in this abhorrent operation. She took a risk, and it may yet pay off.”

  “You really do care for her as if she were your own, don’t you?” Christian’s tone softened. In truth, it made him miss his own father. His mother, too. They had been so close as a family, and he still did not know how he was supposed to continue without them.

  Will you forgive me if I do not marry Helena? He looked around the glade, seeking some kind of sign. His eyes settled on a pair of wood pigeons who nestled on the bough of a tree, their sleek heads pressed up against each other, their chests puffing as they cooed softly. He had heard that wood pigeons mated for life. And that seemed like a sure enough sign to him.

  Will you forgive me if I ask Victoria to be my proverbial wood pigeon? One of the birds ruffled their feathers and cooed louder. He didn’t know how to interpret it, but he chose to view it as an optimistic blessing from the departed souls of his mother and father.

  “I do.” Benedict smiled sadly. “I never had children of my own, but I was always around Solomon and Victoria, from the very moment she was born. She became a part of my life before I even realized. Perhaps, from the first time I held her in my arms and saw how vulnerable she was. And, when her father died, I knew I had to do what I could to fill that void.”

  “For what it is worth, it seems to me as though you have done an exemplary job of acting in her father’s stead.” Christian offered him a grateful look. “Grief can do curious things to people. I have no doubt that you being at her side prevented her from letting that grief overcome her.”

  “That is all I can ask for,” Benedict murmured. “When Solomon passed, it struck us all hard. He was my best friend. My only friend, in some ways. I suppose I managed my own grief by focusing all my attention on Victoria, making sure she never wanted for anything, and making sure that she remembered how to be happy again.”

  Before their heart-to-heart could continue, Christian heard the sound of hooves approaching. Panicking, he darted out of the glade and onto the road. The constables had arrived at last, but with surprisingly little attempt at discretion.

  Goodness me! They shall reveal us!

  Christian waved his hands wildly, drawing the ten-strong band of constables into the glade, before they could be seen by anyone within the farmhouse stronghold.

  “What is the matter?” the man leading the group asked.

  Benedict answered before Christian had the chance. “Foster, for crying out loud, you can’t show up to an ambush, brazenly riding down the road on your horses!”

  Foster frowned. “An ambush?”

  “There’s a farmhouse over yonder,” Benedict went on. “Victoria’s trail led us here. She’s in there, somewhere, which means the other captured ladies are in there, too. This is where those cretins brought her. So, if you ride along obliviously, sounding like the blasted cavalry on the offensive, they’ll dart for freedom before we can even make a single arrest.”

  “Who are ‘they’? I thought we were dealing with two men?” Foster shifted in his saddle; the glade now exceedingly crowded. Condensation plumed from the nostrils of their mounts, while the steady drop of water, tumbling from the leaves, provided percussion to the cramped exchange.

  “That was something of a surprise,” Christian interjected. “There are at least twelve men down there, perhaps more. This operation is much larger than we thought.”

  Foster stiffened. “Well, that wasn’t on your note, Thomson.” He glanced at Benedict.

  “Lucky for us you brought yourself and nine men, then, even though you only thought you were here to apprehend two culprits.” Benedict gave the shadow of a smirk. For being an investigator himself, Christian sensed he had little love for the constables of Bow Street. And he certainly held little regard for their professionalism.

  “Yes… that is lucky.” Foster scowled.

  “Did a constable reach Miss Longacre?” Christian desired to diffuse the tension.

  Foster nodded. “Of course.”

  “That is comforting to know.” Christian took a breath. “Now, we must come up with a plan. We are so close now, and we cannot risk anyone fleeing. There may be more men here than we anticipated, but we must work together to ensure that they are all apprehended.”

  Foster arched an eyebrow. “Military man?”

  “In my time, yes.” Christian knew how important it was to assert authority in a situation such as this. Even if it meant calling upon some unsavory memories, which he had fought hard to bury.

  “Good. You’ll be of value, My Lord.” Foster tipped his head in a lazy bow. “What did you have in mind?”

  C
hristian sighed, already hating what he was about to say. “If we want to make sure that nobody flees the scene, then we must wait until we have the cover of darkness. It is bitterly cold when the sun sets, which means the men over yonder will be more likely to seek shelter in the barn. That means we can get them all in one place and surround the building. That is when we make our move.”

  “You want to wait, now?” Benedict snorted. “It’s a wise idea, but I didn’t think it’d come from you.”

  “I have had time to think,” Christian retorted. “We will need the night to shroud us if we are to stand a chance of capturing everyone. We have twelve men here, and they have twelve or more there. It seems likely they will still have the greater numbers, which is why we must utilize the element of surprise. That should even the balance in our favor.”

  Foster nodded. “Sounds like our best option.”

  “You mean, you don’t have one, so you’re happy to go along with the first one you hear,” Benedict muttered under his breath.

  “Do you have an alternative suggestion?” Foster shot back.

  “No, actually. I agree. It sounds like our best option.” Benedict huffed out a sigh and looked to Christian with an apprehensive eye. “We should rest here and wait for darkness to fall.”

  He made it sound so simple. But Christian knew he wouldn’t be able to rest, even though his body ached with weariness. No, he would not be able to sink into any sort of slumber again, not until he had Victoria safely back in his arms.

  Chapter 27

  “Have you thought any more about my suggestion?” Solomon asked, having returned to the ramshackle office to speak with Victoria. She had drifted off into a fractured sleep, spurred on by the tears that had exhausted her eyes, only to wake to find him sitting opposite.

  She blinked in confusion, remembering where she was and how she had come to be here. “Your suggestion? Oh… that one. No, not as of yet. I must have fallen asleep. I didn’t mean to. Goodness, what is the time?”

  “Four o’clock.” Her father smiled. “You must’ve been weary, my girl. I imagine you’ve not slept in days, if you’ve been toiling away at this case. You never did know how to rest while you were working. A bad habit that I must’ve taught you.”

  “Four o’clock?!” she gasped in horror. How can it be four o’clock? Where are Benedict and Christian? A creeping doubt slithered through her veins that, perhaps, she hadn’t left a good enough trail for them to follow. Or, worse still, her trail had been obliterated by the winds and the rains that had lashed the world last night.

  “It’s good to get some rest,” he encouraged. “I didn’t know whether to wake you or not, in truth.”

  “I am pleased you did, or I might have slept for a week.” She attempted humor, though it fell flat. Her mind was so very jumbled that she lacked the ability to feel any amusement whatsoever. “Are you cross that I have yet to make up my mind?”

  He shook his head. “There is no rush. I’m just eager to hear you agree. I’ve missed having you at my side, through all of this. Over the years, I’ve had many a partner, but you were always the best of them.”

  “Not Ben?”

  “Ben had his benefits, but he was never as sharp as you. I don’t think there’s anyone alive, man or woman, who has the mind that you have. You always see things that no one else saw, your mind one step ahead of the rest.” He beamed with such tangible pride that it made Victoria’s heart sink. He would be so very disappointed when she turned him down. But this was not what she wanted. She had chosen to be on the side of good, and she wouldn’t switch to the criminal underworld for anyone. Not even her father.

  “What if you were to give up this endeavor, once you have delivered the London ladies back to their homes?” Victoria said nervously, not knowing how he might respond.

  “Oh, I plan to,” he replied, stunning her.

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “For a time. I must leave some years between my operations, so that high society can be lured back into a false sense of peace. I did so in Scotland, and again in Ireland.” He smiled to himself. “I thought I might strike Bath next, after a satisfactory period has elapsed. Or Paris. I always said I would take you to the continent, didn’t I?”

  Oh well… He didn’t plan to give this up, at all, that was clear.

  “You did,” she said quietly.

  “So, join me. Say yes,” he urged.

  She paused. “I… need more time. It will mean leaving Mama, and she won’t understand. I cannot make this decision right now. I have to think it through.” She had no intention of thinking it through, for her mind was already made up. But she didn’t have the heart to tell him that, yet. Instead, she needed time to figure out how she was going to get her father out of this, before the cavalry arrived. If they arrived. True, she may have despised his actions, even if she could understand his reasoning, but that didn’t mean she was ready to see him die for it.

  My moral compass will have to point a little South on this one. She didn’t care what happened to her father’s minions, but she would protect her father to the bitter end, even if it meant going against her sense of justice.

  “How is your mother?” Solomon asked unexpectedly.

  “She fares well,” Victoria replied. “Though I do not see her as often as I would like. I suppose we are alike in that way—I desire to keep her safe, and so I do not do anything that might bring the wolves to her door.”

  He nodded. “That is very wise. But… does that mean you live alone?” He sounded sorrowful.

  “I live above Ben’s office.”

  “You do?” His face crumpled. “I know you have always been independently spirited, but I didn’t… I didn’t think you would isolate yourself like that. You should be around people. That is the only way to defy the curse of the investigative life. If you throw your heart and soul into the work, and nothing else, it’ll destroy you and everything you hold dear. Believe me, I know. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know that, first-hand.”

  “So, you understand that what you are doing is insane?” she blurted out, and instantly wished she had not.

  “I know it is… unusual, but this is where the path of my life has led me. I threw everything I had into bringing the Duke of Rowntree down, and it came to nothing. I had no justice for my sister, or any of the women he murdered. It… broke me. I believed so wholly in the system, and when it failed me… I didn’t know what to do. I felt utterly lost.” His breath hitched. “This was the only way I could fix myself. This was the only way I could make it right.”

  Victoria leaned forward and grasped her father’s hand. “Then stop now and consider your life your own again. Give these ladies back and run as far as you can. Wherever you go, Mama and I will come to you. But you have to cease this before it really does destroy you. Do not make us watch you hang, Papa.”

  His eyes widened. “You haven’t called me that since you were a child.”

  “Perhaps I feel like a child, confused by her father’s behavior.”

  “If anyone hurt your mother, would you not do anything to see justice served, even if it meant following a more drastic path?” he countered.

  She hesitated. “You know I would, but not if it caused others harm. That was your first lesson to me: never put innocents in harm’s way if it can be helped.”

  He sighed wearily. “In this instance, it couldn’t be helped.”

  “Please, Papa. Give this up. Go somewhere, far from here, where you can find peace. Let these innocents go home,” she begged, desperate now. But he merely shook his head.

  “I can’t. I can’t stop until my sister’s ghost no longer haunts me. I can’t stop until all of high society realize that they are not infallible. They need to pay for what they did—they need to pay for protecting a devil in their midst.” Her father’s expression hardened. “They had a funeral for him, for goodness’ sake. A state affair, with all the grandeur of a king. They celebrated his life, knowing full well what he had done
!”

  “That is their failing. Do not let it be yours,” she pleaded.

  Her father rose sharply and crossed the room, pausing in the doorway. “I have to go an attend to further business. Please think about my suggestion. Please say you’ll help me. If you do, perhaps I can put this endeavor to rest sooner than I thought. Perhaps you will bring me peace again, as you did before.”

  With that, he exited. And Victoria burst into tears, hot and furious, and unstoppable. Her father was clearly in a great deal of pain, twisted up with anguish of losing his sister in such a terrible way. It had blinded him, making him unable to see how futile his actions were. High society would never change, but there were good people therein, who offered hope for the future of the elite.

  Christian being one of them.

  Where are you? I need you, Christian… my goodness, I need you.

 

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