The pale man licked his lips. He was the next thing to unconscious. “It was a hired carriage and I heard French spoken. They shot me off my horse and clubbed poor Hill when he tried to protect them.”
“He’s out cold, miss,” Hoby informed her.
“Half a dozen French coves. Gagged and bound them. Then stuffed them in a carriage.”
“But why?” She reached for Hill and felt his heart. It still beat but he lay as still as stone.
“Ransom, I suppose.”
“This is insane. I must think.”
Wyle’s carriage pulled up then. All the footmen they employed began loading the injured groom and Hill.
“Hoby, listen carefully. Everything depends on you. Ride back to the house and tell Trumby to send for the surgeon and also the local magistrate. Then you must find Lord Wyle and apprise him of the situation. Do you know how to find him?”
“Aye, miss. I’ve been to Woolwich. Leave it to me.”
“Tell him what Reed said about them speaking French. He may wish to ride to the port and get the harbor master to check all shipping about to depart.”
“But why, miss?”
“In case his former wife is at the bottom of this.”
He raced off and Marian supervised the position of Reed in the coach so that his leg wound would not reopen.
“Well done of you, miss,” Reed said.
“Well I am a soldier’s daughter, so in some ways nothing surprises me. If only the children are not harmed.”
“We’ll find them, miss. Don’t you worry.”
* * * * *
Half an hour later Marian was pacing the library, still in her bloody riding habit, as she told the magistrate all that Reed had said before the surgeon went to work on him. She’d made out some of the words he quoted. Bordeaux could have meant wine or the city.
Marian had never felt so helpless in her life. The magistrate promised to alert all his subordinates but really there was very little they could do. The Watch was meant to patrol the streets, not find missing children. He advised her to hire someone from Bow Street. She was considering taking this measure without Wyle’s consent. At least she would be doing something.
Her mother had invaded the kitchen to take charge and they discovered that Reed was the Cook’s nephew. Cook was still coherent but so many of the maids were weeping and someone had to keep order. Mr. Hill was resting with a cold compress on his head and a footman in attendance but he was still unconscious.
For the first time in many years Marian had an issue that required prayer and yet she could not focus when she felt there was something she should be doing, something she had not thought of. If only she had possession of her fortune so that she could help with the ransom if indeed that was what the abductors wanted.
Frobisher wandered into the drawing room unannounced as though nothing untoward had happened. “Where’s Wyle?” he asked Marian.
“Woolwich Academy or he was. Didn’t you see him there?”
“Nothing is happening there today.”
”He went in response to your note.”
“I sent nothing. We were supposed to lunch at White’s today.”
“Then who sent it?”
“Why is everyone below stairs wailing? Did someone die?”
“The children have been abducted and Hill and Reed both injured.”
Frobisher staggered with alarm. “What? Where?”
“From Hyde Park.”
He clutched his forehead. “But that’s impossible. Who would do such a thing?”
“It is possible because it happened and I suspect his former wife. At least we have received no ransom demand as yet.”
“This is terrible. I must find Wyle.”
“He may be scouring the docks by now in case the abductors were sent by Louisa.”
Frobisher spared her one anguished look before he strode from the room and Marian resumed her pacing, still convinced there was something else she should be doing if she could only think of it.
Hoby came back to report that Wyle was kicking up a dust in the port, threatening to search each ship personally if no one else would. Marian wrote him a brief note stating what little they knew. Reed had recalled some of the words but not understood them so the only certain fact that could be established was that all the abductors were French. She sent Hoby off again with a brace of grooms in case Wyle needed them.
Trumby entered in Hoby’s wake. “Miss, there is a gentleman here to see Captain Wyle but he’s the same one who called on you.”
“Good Lord, what could Cole want? And at such a time. Show him into the drawing room.”
She went downstairs, opened the door and found Cole staring at the family portrait over the fireplace. Henry must have been no more than two when it was painted. “What do you want now? I really I cannot deal with you just at the moment.”
He started, then turned to her and drew himself to his full height. “I asked to see Captain Wyle.”
“He is not home at the moment and I do not want you bothering him like you bothered my former employers.”
“I came as soon as I heard.”
“Heard what?” Marian snapped.
“That Lord Wyle’s children have been abducted.”
“I don’t understand. How could you have heard?”
“It scarcely matters. Servants talk and news passes along the docks faster than through a ballroom. I have a yacht in port to take on war supplies. It is at Wyle’s disposal since the cargo is not yet ready for shipment.”
Marian felt so overwrought that she was ready to grasp at even this unwelcome aid. “He has not returned yet. The groom reports he is canvassing the docks. But we have no idea if the children have been carried out of the country.”
“He can take my ship, the Corunna. It’s small and can get into some ports not open to naval vessels. Or my crew can land him in a river mouth in a small boat.”
“But where?” Marian pressed her fingertips to her temples for a moment. “Even if their French mother has had them abducted, we have no idea where she is.”
“His wife is married now to the Compte de Villars, as I recall. If he finds them, I wager he will find the children.”
“But he has no idea where Louisa is staying.”
“Temporarily at least they are at Blaye near the mouth of the Gironde River.”
She felt herself gaping at him. “How could you possibly know this?”
“One of my duties for the government is to keep track of British and émigrés on the continent.”
“You are a spy?” She took a step closer, staring at his face in disbelief.
Cole looked modest, a reach for him.
“I prefer the term intelligence officer.”
“But why help us after all you have done to hinder me?”
“I admit I underestimated you. I thought you would concede that it is easier for me to handle your affairs than for you. Once we were locked in this battle…”
“Yes, your pride.” Was he truly repentant?
“I will make it right with you. But that can wait. Wyle must take this ship. It is his one chance to get into France incognito and recover his children.”
“Cole, you are a good man after all.” She felt overwhelmed by his generosity and embraced him.
The door opened and Wyle halted in his tracks. “Pardon me,” he growled.
“Wyle, Cole has offered his ship. And he knows the location of Louisa.”
Wyle looked stunned. “But how?”
“I have connections in France. My mother was French. I have sometimes been able to get people out of France. As it happens the Compte de Villars contacted my French agent seeking passage out of France for Louisa de Villars.”
“And you refused?”
“Yes, since Villars is also a Captain of Horse in Napoleon’s army, I sensed a trap. I suspect the upshot is they have abducted the children so they can take them to another country.”
Wyle shook his head. “It s
eems so unlike Louisa.”
“Please accept my help. I feel partly responsible for this situation. By refusing to bring her here I may have provoked the abduction.”
Wyle still looked puzzled. “No, you cannot be held to blame. You did the right thing.”
“I offer my ship, the Corunna, to carry you across. It can wait offshore until you find them.”
“When can I leave?” Wyle demanded.
“On the next tide if you wish.”
“I’ll pack,” Marian said.
“You are not going,” Wyle said flatly.
“Why not?” asked Cole. “She will be perfectly safe on the ship.”
“An unmarried lady on a commercial vessel without accompaniment in a time of war. Need I say more? I must go and make arrangements for the ransom in case we have guessed wrongly and it is needed here.”
Marian bit her lower lip. “Perhaps Wyle is right. Someone must be here in case a ransom demand comes.”
“It’s a good thing I planned to resign my commission. I must be at liberty to search for the children.”
Cole glanced at him. “As a British officer you would be safer in France than as a private citizen.”
“Perhaps. I must give orders and I have some other documents to prepare.” Wyle left them without even looking back. Marian felt abandoned.
“I cannot stand here doing nothing,” she said.
“I know you. I will send my carriage in the early morning, well before we sail. If you wish to go, it should be your choice, not Wyle’s. The girl especially may have need of you.”
“Yes, of course. I will watch for the carriage. And I’ll be discreet when I get to the ship.”
“Good. I will keep Wyle busy. Do not bring a ton of baggage.”
She just looked at him.
“No, of course you would not. Until then.” Cole kissed her hand. It was the first time she had thought of him in a companionable way, as though he were useful instead of an obstruction. Had she misjudged him?
She saw him out of the house and watched through the hall window as he mounted his horse and galloped off. She had just turned to go up the stairs to pack a small valise when the front door opened and a very grubby Henry staggered in.
“Oh, Henry. Are you all right? What happened?” She ran down to him so fast she nearly fell.
“They’ve taken Charlotte and it took me all this time to make my way home. Catch me going about without fare for a hack again.”
“Trumby, tell Lord Wyle Henry is back.”
“They’ve taken her to an inn. I saw the name of it. The Pelican Inn,” he gasped then sat on the floor in exhaustion.
Wyle almost fell loping down the stairs to clutch Henry in his arms. “Are you indeed unharmed?”
Marian could see the tears in Wyle’s eyes and Henry began to cry as well but sniffed and looked up. “Charlotte helped me get away. She kicked one of the men in the carriage, then bit the other one and told me to run. I hopped out and hid in a milk cart until I could get my hands free. Did my horse come home?”
“Yes, he’s fine. Where did they take her?”
“We were south of the river in a very nasty part of town. It stank of fish.”
“Tell me how you came home.”
“I saw a sign that said Pelican Inn. I ran for half an hour before I came to Blackfriers Bridge.”
“You did well, Henry. Now rest and the surgeon will look at you. Trumby, have four horses saddled and tell three of the grooms we have an errand. I want them armed.”
“Be careful,” was all Marian said before she helped Henry to his feet and to the kitchen. If she guessed aright a meal was what he needed. A good sleep would come soon enough.
* * * * *
It seemed as though Wyle had been gone for hours. Henry was asleep after telling his tale to the magistrate whom they had summoned again. Blessedly Hill was awake though he did not remember the attack at all. He was trying to get up and it was all Marian could do to dissuade him. Leaving a footman to restrain him and also get some food into him, she was pacing the drawing room, a lamentable habit but it was better than doing nothing.
Wyle thundered into the courtyard with his grooms but no Charlotte. A moment later he entered and threw off his cloak. “Is Hill coherent yet? And can you rouse your mother and Cook and bring them to the drawing room?”
She felt a shiver but her mind leaped immediately to match the people he requested with his mission. “A special license?”
“Easy enough to obtain these days.”
“Well, time is short. But Mr. Hill must not leave his bed.”
“Very well, we shall go to him.”
Marian returned a few minutes later with the other two women and now Wyle seemed to hesitate. “There should be flowers or something.”
“There will be later. For now we must find Charlotte. Your promise is enough.”
She gripped his hand and found it cold but strong, so they went up the stairs to Hill’s room.
“It seems fantastic that you should be sailing off to France and on Cole’s ship. Do you really believe Louisa has done this thing?”
“All evidence points to it. Besides we have received no ransom demand. If one comes after I leave then you have the power to act for me but only as my wife.”
When Wyle explained their errand, Hill looked confused. “You want me to marry you? From my bed?”
“Is there any rule against it?”
“None that I know of. This means you have not found Charlotte and mean to go after her into France.”
“I want to leave Marian in charge as my wife, a stronger position than my fiancée. I have brought your Book of Common Prayer.”
“Very well, may I at least stand?”
“If you think you can.”
Hill struggled into a robe and stood, swaying only slightly. He then read the words that would bind Marian to her fate. Wyle’s kiss at the end was chaste and they left Hill to sleep. Wyle went to the library to plan his passage. Cole was back by then with French maps and harbor charts.
She was in accord with him when he left her at her bedroom door. Their marriage could not be consummated while Charlotte was in danger. She might even be dead by now. If alive she was certainly terrified.
By tomorrow Wyle would be on his way to France and she would either be here pacing or be stowed in a cabin waiting to surprise and defy him. For once the choice was hers. How ironic that it was Cole who gave her that choice.
* * * * *
Marian fell into a fitful sleep but awoke after a few hours, upbraiding herself yet again for not riding with the children. If she had been along…what? Would she have been able to prevent the abduction? She did not normally ride armed except for the boot dirk her father had given her. And not even Wyle had foreseen the possibility of the kidnapping.
And that was the strangest part of the whole misadventure. If it were someone seeking ransom, they would have sent a note by now. If it was his wife wanting to hurt Wyle, would she have terrified her own children in the process? It made no sense.
Unless the villain was not Louisa. Perhaps Isabelle’s early morning visit was more than an accident. What if she was there to distract her and Wyle from the children. But what motive could she have other than her jealousy. Surely even the vicious Isabelle wouldn’t risk the lives of Wyle’s children just to show Marian up as incompetent. And she could not hope to carry out a ransom scheme.
Marian shook her head. Fatigue and stress were making her irrational. She just had to sleep. At least they had gotten a start on the rescue with Cole’s help. He had found out about the abduction very quickly. They were lucky to have his aid though it seemed overly convenient. Perhaps he was just more a man of action than she had supposed. When he had returned, he had already made preparations for Wyle’s rescue mission and Wyle had agreed to them.
Cole’s claim that he had heard of the abduction via gossip seemed strange. Though Wyle had made a stink at the harbor that was among the officials
and his servants did not gossip. Even if they did, there would have been no time.
What was the point of going over it again and again in her head when they knew so little? She feared for more than Charlotte’s life. If those rough men hurt her in any way she would take a pistol to them herself. Why? Why would her mother send creatures like that who were sure to terrify her. Marian could only picture the girl, bound, without a decent change of clothes.
If only Wyle had not been called away. But if Frobisher had not sent the note, who had? Clearly someone who knew Wyle’s circumstances with the army, plus when and where they rode.
The blood froze in her veins and she sat bolt upright. Cole. If he was able to get detailed information on Louisa, then finding out about Wyle would be no challenge. But if he needed money, why not complete the ransom? Because he wanted something else. Then it hit her that if not for Isabelle, Marian would have been with the children.
Cole wanted Marian. She already knew that it was a matter of pride. She considered the possibility that if she had been in the park the children would not have been taken. But Cole knew he could never compel her to marriage without the children as hostages. Yes, she would do anything to protect them. Besides, he’d sent half a dozen men. They had meant to take all three of them.
Cole had been surprised when she walked into the drawing room. He had asked for Wyle because he assumed Marian was tied up in a carriage somewhere, possibly aboard a ship by now. So he had meant to trap Wyle as well, not just coerce her into marriage but possibly have his revenge on the man who loved her. It was her fault Wyle’s children were in danger and he was being led into a trap. How could she tell him that? If she told him would he even believe her?
She rose and dressed, then loaded a brace of pistols, packed a few clothes and penned a document that might make up for her dereliction. The adjoining door opened and her mother came through in her dressing gown.
“What are you doing?”
“Writing you a power of attorney that will put you in control of Henry and Wyle’s affairs until we return. Then I am packing. I sail with Wyle. I have prepared my will also.”
“I suspected as much. Marian, are you sure you should do this?”
“Cole said it. She will need me more than her father when we find her.”
GovernessForaWeek Page 12
