Lightning Strikes Twice (The Heart of a Hero Book 4)

by Jillian Chantal

  “Make way. Make way.” Mr. Hale cut through the people as if he were an overseer handling a scythe.

  As soon as he saw his daughter, he knelt beside her. “What happened?”

  “I lost my way from the ladies retiring room and slipped. I fell into the cascade.”

  “Where is your brother? He was to escort you,” Mr. Hale practically bellowed.

  Gratified that the plan he’d devised was working, Laurence turned to walk away and leave Miss Hale in the capable hands of her father. Her mother had also arrived and stood over her husband and child wringing her hands together.

  Before Laurence could his escape, a voice called out, “Mr. Fortescue.”

  There was no use in pretending he didn’t hear the man. He stopped and faced Mr. Hale. “Yes, sir?”

  “Could you please do me the favor of finding my coachman and making sure he’s at the entrance? We need to get Hester home and into some dry clothing as soon as possible. She mustn’t get ill.”

  “I’d be happy to assist,” Laurence said and made haste to the entrance to do Mr. Hale’s bidding.

  By the time he found the correct carriage and the man drove to the gates, the Hale family—minus John—was there waiting.

  When he saw Miss Hale leaning on her father, swathed in numerous shawls, Laurence realized his own clothes were most likely in a horrible state of disarray as well.

  Once the Hales were on their way, Laurence paid a young man a shilling to locate his mother the countess and let her know he’d made his own way home. She would probably be angry about him leaving, but she’d be less likely to be furious once he told her what had occurred. Unless someone else beat him to it.

  His breeches stuck to his body like a second skin and he didn’t relish the idea of everyone in the ton seeing him in such a state.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Hetty woke with a sore throat as well as body aches and pains. She knew the throat issue was probably related to her dive into the cascades. The other, of course, was because of those ruffians.

  When she thought about those two evil men who accosted her, she shuddered and was glad that all they took from her was some dignity. She was sure she was the talk of the town by the time Vauxhall had its fireworks show, but at least it was for falling in the water and not for any other reason.

  Thank goodness for Laurence coming to her rescue. Of course, he probably certainly would never have any interest in courting her. Now that he knew how reckless she truly was. With no thought of her reputation, she’d wandered off and gotten herself into a position that no decent girl would’ve ever been in.

  She still couldn’t believe how the evening she’d been so looking forward to had turned out. Would she never learn? Why was she so impetuous? And to be caught like that following a man. One who had no interest in her other than as an experiment.

  A tap on the door made Hetty sit up against the pillows. “Come in.”

  Mary entered the room carrying a tray with a pot and cup on it. They had the pattern of little pink flowers Hetty loved. "Your mother thought you might like some chocolate before you rise. She's concerned as you've been abed so long." The maid set the tray over Hetty's knees.

  "Thank you so much. I admit, I'm quite exhausted by my ordeal." Mary had no idea exactly what ordeal Hetty was really referring to and Hetty was glad of that. She couldn't bear her maid's censure.

  "It must have been frightening having all that water spill over you. I don't know how you could even breathe." Mary shuddered. "I have to tell you, Miss, the entire household staff were that worried about you when your father carried you inside. You were limp and so pale. We were ever so relieved when the doctor came and said you would recover."

  "Thank you. I was terribly scared, but thank goodness for my rescuer." Hetty took a sip of the delightful chocolate. It was a treat to have it in bed since her father was usually very strict about requiring her to come down to the small dining room for breakfast.

  "Oh, Miss. I nearly forgot, your mother asked me to tell you Mr. Fortescue sent a note that he would be calling today to check on you. He was the one who fetched the carriage last night if you don't recall."

  Hetty didn't correct Mary that Laurence was actually her rescuer. She didn't know why that wasn't known, but decided to wait and ask him about it. Truth be known, she didn't recall much after going into the icy water.

  Shuddering at the memory, it suddenly dawned on her exactly what Mary said. "He's coming here?"

  "Yes, Miss." Mary walked over to the wardrobe along the far wall. "Which morning gown would you like to wear?"

  Setting aside the tray, Hetty pushed her coverlet off and eased off the side of the mattress. Every limb on fire. Parts of her body she didn’t even know existed twinged. Why hadn’t she realized she’d be in agony as soon as she moved?

  Remembering the way the man smacked her face sent her into a panic at how horrible she must look, Hetty hurried over to her dressing table as best she could and took in her reflection in the mirror.

  Letting out an audible groan, she placed her hand on her cheek. “How can I go downstairs? Can you see my face? It’s awful. I can’t receive callers like this.”

  “Surely you can, Miss. Mr. Fortescue knows about your fall. He won’t judge you for some bruises.” Mary fussed with a couple of her gowns. She held up a pale blue one and a light mauve one. “Which of these do you wish to wear?”

  “Whichever one will look better with the ugly color of the whole side of my head.”

  “It’s not as bad as all that. Let me see if there’s a way to style your hair to cover it some.” Mary shook the gowns. “If I may be so bold, I think the pink will show your complexion the best. You’ll see. I can help you look lovely.”

  “Can’t we send a note to my mother that I’m not up for entertaining?”

  “You certainly can, Miss but will you be wanting to hide up here until your face heals?”

  “No.” Hetty shook her head. “You’re right. I’ll be unhappy inside for that long.” She let out a sigh. “See what you can do with my hair.”

  Mary came to the dressing table still holding the pink gown. “Step into this first, then we’ll see what we can do.”

  Hetty stood to be assisted in changing garments.

  By the time one of the footmen came to the door to let Hetty know her caller was there, she was dressed and almost satisfied with the way her hair was arranged. She had to admit, Mary did a good job in trying to minimize the effect of Hetty’s bruised skin.

  Her stomach in her throat, Hetty made her way down to see Laurence. She wished he were coming to see her as a suitor rather than as a rescuer. A rescuer who didn’t seem to have let anyone know he was the one to help her out of the waterfall. How no one noticed it was him was a mystery. Wasn’t he as wet as she when they came out?

  At the door to the drawing room, she braced herself, then opened it.

  “Good morning, dear. You have a visitor who has come to call to inquire about your recovery.” Her mother smiled from her seat on the settee.

  Laurence turned to face Hetty. He was standing beside the fireplace holding one of the Staffordshire shepherdesses that usually reposed on the mantel. Was he nervous?

  He quickly replaced the figure. It trembled on its perch for a moment. Hetty held her breath, hoping it wouldn’t fall.

  Stepping forward, Laurence said, “Miss Hale, I wanted to ascertain how you fared overnight after your fall.” He smiled and waved his hand toward her gown. “You seem to have come through the ordeal intact.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Fortescue. I appreciate your assistance last evening. My family will always be grateful to you. It could have been much worse than it was.”

  “I was happy to do what little I could in order to help.”

  Hetty wished they could have a real conversation about what happened, but with her mother seated there in the room, there was no possibility of that occurring.

  “We are grateful, Mr. F
ortescue,” her mother said. “I know we discussed you coming again for dinner in Oxford, but we hope you’ll come tonight as well. It’s a smaller group than before, but with Hester having had her accident, we want to keep visitors to a minimum.”

  “I shouldn’t want to impose,” he said.

  “It’s no imposition. After all, we owe you a debt of gratitude and since you and Mr. Hale are already great friends, it’s only right for you to come to dinner while we’re all here in town.” Her mother stood. “I hope you’ll say yes.”

  “Of course. I would be delighted.”

  “If you’ll excuse me for one moment, I’ve just thought of something I needed to discuss with Cook about this evening.” Her mother turned to Hetty. “I’ll send Mary in to be chaperone and will return shortly.

  Was her mother leaving them alone on purpose? Could she suspect Hetty’s true feelings for Laurence? Or was she really thinking about the dinner?

  As soon as her mother was out of the room, Laurence's face changed. He seemed to relax a bit. "Are you truly doing well? I noticed when you came in that you were moving slowly. Did either of those blackguards cause you any other harm? Broken bones?"

  "No. The doctor said I would be healed soon, but will be achy. He's right." Hetty didn't want to give him any details about how sore her bottom was. She'd landed hard on it and even sitting on the seat to have her hair finished by Mary had been difficult.

  "I'm so glad I came upon you before your distress worsened."

  "As am I, but why do my parents think you merely fetched the carriage? Why don't they know you were the one to pull me out of the water?"

  "A man took you from me when I was struggling to come up the embankment. The crowd then gathered around. I was still off to the side clearing the lenses of my spectacles when you father arrived."

  Hetty eased herself gently to a seated position. "Oh, I didn't even think about the possibility of you losing your spectacles. That would've been terrible."

  "My dear Miss Hale, the loss of these lenses would be nothing compared to the danger you were in." He touched the edge of the spectacles.

  "Won't you be seated? You can't be comfortable standing there by the fireplace." Hetty resisted the urge to pat the cushion beside her. That would be too bold even for her.

  "I really must be on my way. I have an appointment I must keep. I wanted to call on you first and see how you came through the night."

  Disappointed he wasn't going to stay, Hetty tried to make her face impassive. She stood. "Then don't let me delay you. I'll show you out."

  The door to the drawing room flew open.

  "Look at this. Look at this." Hetty's father barged in waving a newspaper in his hand. He came to an abrupt halt upon seeing Laurence. "Well good day to you, Fortescue. “Did you see the paper this morning?"

  “No, sir. I haven’t. I was in rather a rush when I left my parents’ town house. Is there something interesting?”

  “I’d say so. Read this.” Hetty’s father held the paper out.

  “May I hear it, Father?”

  “Read it out loud, Fortescue,” her father said.

  Laurence turned white when he glanced down at the newsprint. He passed the paper to Hetty’s father. “You go ahead, sir.”

  Hetty was going to take the thing from her father forcibly if someone didn’t tell her what it said. “What is it?”

  “Come and sit. This will shock you and I don’t want you to get an attack of the vapors.” Her father led her to the settee her mother had previously vacated and handed her the document.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had an attack of the vapors.” She looked at the headline and then almost did have such a fit.

  Two Ruffians Found Dead in Woods at Vauxhall Gardens

  She couldn’t read the rest of the article since her eyes had black spots in front of them. Was this what swooning was like?

  “When you wandered off, these two men could have been lying in wait for some young girl to accost. Someone killed them, but the article says they’d been bothering ladies all evening. Grabbing them and kissing them as well as handling them roughly. It’s a miracle they didn’t find you when you were lost,” her father said.

  Hetty looked over at Laurence. Had he done this? Did he kill those men? She was distraught when the men took her, but had she been so distracted she didn’t realize Laurence had actually killed them?

  Laurence shook his head slightly.

  She wasn’t sure how to interpret his gesture. Was he telling her to be quiet or was he saying he this was not his doing?

  “But it didn’t. They didn’t,” Hetty said to her father.

  “Only because God was protecting you. There’s some Bible verse that speaks of how God protects children like you. Don’t tell your mother that I can’t recall which at this moment,” her father said.

  “Don’t tell me what, dear?” her mother asked as she returned to the room.

  “Two men were found dead in the Gardens last night. Can you imagine if they’d gotten their grimy hands on our daughter? They were apparently wandering the area with the purpose of accosting young ladies.”

  Hetty’s mother paled and almost fell. She was saved from doing so by her father’s arms waiting to catch her.

  “Oh no. That would have been terrible, James. There would be no recovery for our Hester if that had happened.” Her mother took a seat beside her and held Hetty’s hand. “I’m so glad they didn’t see you.”

  Dropping her mother’s hand, Hetty stood. “I’m sorry. This is so distressing that I need to return to my room. I apologize, Mr. Fortescue. Would you excuse me?”

  “Of course. In fact, I need to be on my way as well. As I told you earlier, I have an appointment I mustn’t miss.” Laurence followed Hetty toward the door. “If you will all allow me to give my regrets at having to go so soon, I’ll take my leave now as well.”

  “Will we still see you for dinner this evening?” her mother asked.

  “Yes. I’ll be here.” Laurence paused for a moment. “Unless you’ve changed your mind because of those men. If you’re too upset to entertain, I will understand.”

  “No. No. We’d love to have you return,” Hetty’s father said.

  “May I return to my room?” Hetty asked.

  “Of course, dear. Make sure Mr. Fortescue is shown the way to the front door. I sent the butler to bring tea and since he’s not here yet, he won’t be able to see our guest out. You don’t mind do you?” her mother asked.

  “I don’t mind.” Hetty held her hand out to usher Laurence toward the front door.

  He followed her out into the hallway. On the way down the corridor, she addressed him in a whisper, “Did you kill those men?”

  “They were breathing when we left them. I knocked them out, but they were definitely alive when we left the area.”

  “Are you sure?” Hetty didn’t like to think of Laurence as someone who could kill a man, but he’d surprised her the evening before when he was able to subdue two men by himself. She’d thought of him as scholarly and interested in science and was shocked to learn of the other side of him.

  “I hope you don’t think of me as someone who brawls with ruffians on a daily basis.” He smiled, but it seemed more of a grimace.

  “Of course not.” But maybe she did. How exactly had it happened that he took on two men at once and came out the winner? Especially when those two men were so much bigger and bulkier than him?

  Laurence could scarcely believe those two men were dead. If it wasn’t in the papers and he’d merely heard the information from someone in the street or a café, he wouldn’t have given it any credence.

  They were definitely alive when he left them. He’d used the techniques he’d learned in his training with the War Office to make sure they stayed unaware for long enough for he and Miss Hale to safely make their escape. He didn’t kill for no reason and even though the men had nefarious intentions against Miss Hale, the fact was, they hadn’t done much but scare he
r and cause some bruises. Not enough to warrant death.

  “I don’t want to think such things about you, Mr. Fortescue, but you have to admit it is odd. You fought with them—to rescue me—and now they’re dead. What am I supposed to think?”

  “I would hope you’d know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  “But that’s really it, isn’t it?”

  “What?” He shook his head.

  “I don’t know you. Not in truth. We’re acquaintances, but not truly friends are we?”

  He took her hand. Her warm—too warm—hand. “No, we’re not, but let’s try and rectify that, shall we?”

  In response, she bestowed a brilliant smile on him. “I’d like that.”

  Now he was worried. What did he just do? Did she think he meant to court her? Surely not. “I’ll see you this evening, then.” Laurence bowed and took his leave.

  When he made it to the street, he glanced around for a hackney. He was going to be late if he didn’t make haste.

  Luck was with Laurence and he hailed a conveyance easily.

  Inside, he leaned back against the squabs and thought over the events at Vauxhall. He would've sworn the men he'd rescued Miss Hale from were still breathing when they left them. Of course he could've killed them if he'd wanted to. He had the ability, but he didn't act to kill unless he was himself in danger of death.

  Who could have done it?

  By the time he reached Westminster, Laurence knew he'd have to tell Jones not only about his missed opportunity to follow Hammond, but the incident with Miss Hale.

  Grimacing at the thought of betraying her to his supervisor, Laurence alighted from the cab.

  "Mr. Fortescue, isn't it?" a voice behind him asked.

  He turned as the man continued to speak, "I don't know if you recall, but we met at a dinner in Oxford. At Mr. James Hale's home."

  Laurence knew exactly who the man was. One of his prey. The Member of Parliament, Mr. William Roundtree. "Yes. Of course. I recognize you. I apologize, but I was introduced to so many new people that evening, your name escapes me at the moment." Laurence presumed the gentleman would be offended he didn't recall his name, but it seemed more important for Roundtree to believe he wasn't memorable to Laurence.